ith Torrance amicably, and it was not until
he was returning to the hall with Clavering that he found an opportunity
of expressing himself freely. Torrance, he realized, was an old man, and
quite incapable of regarding the question except from his own point of
view.

"I am just a little astonished you did not consider it advisable to follow
the thing up further, when you must have seen what it pointed to," said
Clavering.

"That," said Cheyne, smiling, "is foolish of you. I would like to explain
that I am not a detective or a police officer."

"You were, at least, sent here to restore tranquillity."

"Precisely!" said Cheyne. "By the State. To maintain peace, and not
further the cattle-men's schemes. I am, for the present, your leader's
guest; but I have no reason for thinking he believes that in any way
constitutes me his ally. In his case I could not use the word
accomplice."

Clavering flashed an observant glance at him. "It should be evident which
party is doing the most to bring about tranquillity."

"It is not," said Cheyne. "I don't know that it is my business to go into
that question; but one or two of the efforts you have made lately would
scarcely impress the fact on me."

"You are frank, any way," with a disagreeable laugh.

"No," said Cheyne, with a twinkle in his eyes, "I'm not sure that I am. We
occasionally talk a good deal more plainly in the United States cavalry."

He passed on to the hall and Clavering went back to Torrance's room. "We
have got to get rid of that man, sir," he said. "If we don't, Larry will
have him. Allonby had better go and worry the Bureau into sending for
another two or three squadrons under a superior officer."

Torrance sighed heavily. "I'm 'most afraid they are not going to take
kindly to any more worrying," he said. "In fact, now it's evident how the
feeling of the State is going, I have an idea they'd sooner stand in with
the homestead boys. Still, we can try it, any way."

It was about the same time that Grant flung himself wearily into a chair
in the great bare room at Fremont ranch. His face was haggard, his eyes
heavy, for he had spent the greater part of several anxious days and
nights endeavouring to curb the headstrong passions of his followers, and
riding through leagues of slushy snow.

"Will you hurry Tom up with the supper, while I look through my letters?"
he said.

Breckenridge went out, and, when he came back a little while later, found
Grant wit