d at Bill Bryant's feet and the

? Gee," he went on, while Fyles nodded a smiling affirmative, "it surely

he hill in silence, while Bill Bryant's shining eyes dr

ment for answering questions had passed. Any form of cross-examination now might lead him into imparting information that might hurt

Bryant made no further attempt at speech. Once more dou

ew church, and sounds of activity broke the sylvan peace of the valley. But these things were of a lesser interest. A pedestrian, evidently leaving the neighborhood of t

smile was probably unconscious, but it was nevertheless pronounced. In a moment, off came Bill's hat in a respectful salute, and only by the greate

uosity: "Are they all like that in-this place? If so, I'm surely up to my neck in the valley of Leaping Creek

volley of questions came wi

of the one they call-Kate. They're sort of fa

"Why, that girl might have stepped off

," replied Fyles, "and they've

r pretty face and dandy eyes-not married? Say, the boys of this

p at the point where the trail merg

t-their fault,

ignation was s

ke to know w

laughe

y surely do need lynching-most of 'em-but not for

and pointed down the tra

ght along the trail for nearly half a mile till you come

ointing finger to a distant house on t

and, unless I'm mistaken, that's your brother standing right there on the veranda looking out this way. For a

re Bill could give expression to any of the dozen questions which leaped to

atching with eyes of anxious longing for the sight of a familiar figure emerging from a hou

rk eyes when they were turned upon the house of Kate Set

. But to-day she had remained invisible. He wondered why. It was her custom to be abroad e

the many other small activities of the village, usually claimed Helen's morning. That was the difference, one of the ma

infully. Ever since he had heard of Inspector Fyles's coming to the village a sort of depression had settled like a cloud

slope beside the house. There was work to be done there, some repairs, which he had intended to s

emen in the distance making their way down toward the village. For awhile he only caught odd glimpses of them through the t

s civilian clothing he recognized the easy poise in the saddle of Inspector Fyles. He had s

yes, and all the mildness, all the gentleness vanished out of his expressive features. They had suddenly grown hard and cold. He knew that trouble was knock

e other turned westwards, but the now hot eyes of the watching man followed only the f

red the rancher made a

as though about to strike the unconscious horsema

a man who is endeavoring to escape from himself. He su

forgotten the second horseman in his bitter interest in the policeman. Now he remembered that he had turned westward, which was in the direction of his ranch. The sounds we

rail. And the look in his eyes augure

e, a somewhat familiar voice. It was big, an

u can go, my four-footed monument to a blasted rogue's perf

evidence it came forthwith, for, with a rush, at a headlong gallop, a horse

arl

Good ol

nt Big Brother Bill flung out of the saddle, and

see you, Charlie,

and-and I took you for o

ome and relief, that all Big Brother Bill's doubts

thing of the other'

changed your mind. Say, where's your baggage? Coming on behind? You

Bill cried, with a great laugh at his own folly. "Why

ling eyes sud

in the name of

y. "I've had one awful journey. If it hadn't been for a fell

nd the smile died

tainly were traveli

me good-natured St. Bernard o

re 'cross country from Moosemin on the advice of the only bigger fool than myself I've ever met, until

reat brother of his was the brightest landmark in his

on bare ground," he re

nt up to the accomp

week as a boarding-house spring lamb. But for that feller, I surely guess I'd

quiry flashed in t

?" he i

anching line. Rounds up 'strays,' and herds 'em to

elings Fyles's name inspired. Then he gave way to the appeal of a so

widely open. Then he caught the infection, and

er, Charlie sobered and c

g up 'strays,' and herding 'em to their right homes. But the 'strays' are 'crooks,' and their homes the penitentiary. That's Inspector Stanley Fyles, of the Mounted Police, and just about the smartest man in the force.