;d some words with Wandle about the matter this morning; Jernyngham warned me he might pretend he had a claim. However, that’s not to the purpose; somehow I feel convinced he’ll turn up again. What motive could any one have for killing him? The only man we might have suspected—the fellow who went off with Ellice—must have been on the train bound for St. Paul.”

“He was; we wired the conductor. But the thing’s quite simple—the motive was robbery. You remember that wad of bills?” The corporal paused before he added: “Where did you last see Jernyngham?”

“At the trail-forks near my place. He rode right on; I took the turning.” 65

“Did you see your man, Svendsen, or his wife when you got home?”

“I didn’t; they live at the back of the house. I put up the horses, slipped in quietly, and went to bed.”

“Then you can’t fix the time you got back?”

Prescott moved sharply, lifting his head, while an angry color suffused his face.

“Curtis, you can’t think—Jernyngham was my best friend!” Then he laughed indignantly. “You always struck me as a sensible man.”

The corporal regarded him with scrutinizing eyes, his manner stamped with official austerity.

“I’m forming no opinions—yet. It’s my duty to find out all I can about the matter and report. If there’s anything you’re open to tell me, I’ll make a note of it.”

Prescott’s face grew stern and his glance very steady.

“I can add nothing to what I’ve said, and I’m busy.”

Curtis rode away, but when he was out of the rancher’s sight he broke into a dry smile. He was an astute young man and