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"Then it must be the Bloods, or the Piegans or the Stonies. We will call their Chiefs together." There was no hurry in Cameron's manner. He had determined to spend the day if necessary in running down these thieves. At his suggestion Running Stream called together the Chiefs of the various bands of Indians represented.
It is enclosed by high mountains on all sides, with an entrance which partakes of the nature of a natural gateway. In summer time this park is a profusion of bloom, with wild flowers and vines seldom seen in any other part of the world in such splendor. There are several elevated spots from which the surrounding country can be seen for miles. Above the park is Cameron's Cone.
It came from a sudden recollection of Division Superintendent Cameron's prediction of interference from the K. & Z. "Could that be the real explanation?" he asked himself with some excitement. The first streak of dawn found Alex again at the scene of the fire, bent on proving or disproving the theory of incendiarism.
There was a carter at Turrifs drunk himself to death because of this unfortunate Mr. Cameron's rising again that's one murder; and there'll be another." With that he turned on his heel and left her in his own room. He only turned once to look in at the door again. "If you're in any trouble, I'm real soft-hearted, Eliza; I'll be real good to you, though you've been crusty to me."
The two men smoked with their eyes upon the minute hand that slowly crept toward twelve. Now and then Cameron's glance strayed through the window toward the trading post, as though he half expected to see John McNabb step to its door. "Twelve o'clock!" announced Orcutt, in a voice that held a ring of triumph.
One boat was sunk by a discharge of grape from Dennis's howitzer; another, with Colonel Fenwick, of the U.S. artillery, was swept below the landing to a cove where, in the attack by Cameron's volunteers that followed, Fenwick, terribly wounded, was, with most of his men, taken prisoner.
"Were it only as Miss Cameron's guardian," said Lord Vargrave, pointedly, "I should certainly object to such a mode of performing such a journey. Perhaps Mr. Aubrey means to perfect the project by taking two outside places on the top of the coach?" "Pardon me," said the curate, mildly, "but I am not so ignorant of what is due to Miss Cameron as you suppose.
Maybe I used it all up, back in those old kid days when I ran away to be 'Nita' and played at being 'the abused chee-ild'. Remember?" "Oh, don't we!" cried Helen and some of the other girls. Something dropped on Tom Cameron's plate. He glanced up, then down again at the object that had fallen. It was a piece of plaster from the ceiling. Chess Copley likewise shot a glance ceilingward.
"It's all right now," he comforted. "Yes of course!" How futile were the words, but they opened the way for truth to flood in. Joan, her hands still in Cameron's, her eyes clinging to his, murmured again, "Yes; of course now!" Then she turned to the two silent, amazed people in the doorway and, by some magic, they were making her realize that she was facing her Big Chance. Hers!
In the midst of this exciting scene there was one heart there which beat with a nervous vehemence that well-nigh burst it. This was the heart of Dick Varley's horse, Charlie. Well-known to him was that distant rumbling sound that floated on the night air into the fur-trader's camp where he was picketted close to Cameron's tent.
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