Chapter II. His Country's Need

For full five miles they rode in unbroken silence, the Superintendent going before with head pressed down on his breast and eyes fixed upon the winding trail. A heavy load lay upon him. True, his immediate sphere of duty lay along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway, but as an officer of Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police he shared with the other officers of that force the full responsibility of holding in steadfast loyalty the tribes of Western Indians. His knowledge of the presence in the country of the arch-plotter of the powerful and warlike Sioux from across the line entailed a new burden. Well he knew that his superior officer would simply expect him to deal with the situation in a satisfactory manner. But how, was the puzzle. A mere handful of men he had under his immediate command and these dispersed in ones and twos along the line of railway, and not one of them fit to cope with the cunning and daring Sioux.

With startling abruptness he gave utterance to his thoughts.

"We must get him--and quick. Things are moving too rapidly for any delay. The truth is," he continued, with a deepening impatience in his voice, "the truth is we are short-handed. We ought to be able to patrol every trail in this country. That old villain has fooled us to-day and he'll fool us again. And he has fooled Pinault, the smartest breed we've got. He's far too clever to be around loose among our Indians."

Again they rode along in silence, the Superintendent thinking deeply.

"I know where he is!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling up his horse. "I know where he is--this blessed minute. He's on the Sun Dance Trail and in the Sun Dance Canyon, and they're having the biggest kind of a powwow."

"The Sun Dance!" echoed the Sergeant. "By Jove, if only Sergeant Cameron were on this job! He knows the Sun Dance inside and out, every foot."

The Superintendent swung his horse sharply round to face his Sergeant.

"Cameron!" he exclaimed thoughtfully. "Cameron! I believe you're right. He's the man--the very man. But," he added with sudden remembrance, "he's left the Force."

"Left the Force, sir. Yes, sir," echoed the Sergeant with a grin. "He appeared to have a fairly good reason, too."

"Reason!" snorted the Superintendent. "Reason! What in--? What did he--? Why did he pull off that fool stunt at this particular time? A kid like him has no business getting married."

"Mighty fine girl, sir," suggested the Sergeant warmly. "Mighty lucky chap. Not many fellows could resist such a sharp attack as he had."

"Fine girl! Oh, of course, of course--fine girl certainly. Fine girl. But what's that got to do with it?"

"Well, sir," ventured the Sergeant in a tone of surprise, "a good