me comes."

Bill had no reply. He suddenly experienced the chill of the cold steel
of police methods. A series of painful pictures rose up before his
mind's eye, which held his tongue silent. Helen quickly came to his
rescue.

"But who's to say who did it?" she demanded.

Fyles smiled down into her pretty face.

"Those who want to save their skins--when the time comes."

It was Helen's turn to realize something of the irresistible nature of
the work of the police. Somehow she felt that the defeat of the police
last night was but a shadowy success after all, for those concerned in
the whisky-running. Her thought flew at once to Charlie, and she
shuddered at the suggested possibilities in Fyles's words.

She turned away.

"Well, all I can say is, I--I hate it all, and wish it was all over
and done with. Everybody's talking, everybody's gloating, and--and it
just makes me feel scared to death." Then she turned again to Bill.
"Let's go on," she cried, a little desperately. "We'll finish our
shopping, and--and get away from it all. It just makes me real ill."

She waved a farewell to Kate and moved away, and Bill, like some
faithful watchdog, followed at her heels. Fyles looked after them both
with serious, earnest eyes. Kate watched them smiling.

Presently Fyles turned back to her.

"Well?" he demanded.

Kate's eyes were slowly raised to his.

"Well?" she echoed. "So----"

She broke off. Her generous nature checked her in time. She had been
about to twit him with his defeat. She sympathized with his feelings
at the thought of his broken hopes.

"Better say it," said Fyles, with a smile, in which chagrin and
tenderness struggled for place. "You were going to say I have been
defeated, as you told me I should be defeated."

"I s'pose I was." Kate glanced quickly up into his face, but the
feeling she beheld there made her turn her eyes away so that they
followed Bill and Helen moving down the trail. "Women are usually
ungenerous to--an adversary." Then her whole manner changed to one of
kindly frankness. "Do you know my feelings are sort of mixed about
your--defeat----"

"Not defeat," put in Fyles. "Check."

Kate smiled.

"Well, then, 'check.' I am glad--delighted--since you direct all your
suspicions against Charlie. Then I am full of regret for you,
because--because I know the rigor of police discipline. In the eyes of
the authorities you have failed--twice. Oh, if you would only attack
this thing wi