r of other things we'll have to dispense with."

"We'll pull through by some means," Edgar rejoined encouragingly, and
George got up.

"I feel rather worn out," he said. "I think I'll go to sleep."

He walked wearily from the room, crumpling up the letters he had risked
his life to secure.

CHAPTER XXI

GRANT COMES TO THE RESCUE

The storm had raged for twenty-four hours, but it had now passed, and
it was a calm night when a little party sat in George's living-room.
Outside, the white prairie lay still and silent under the Arctic frost,
but there was no breath of wind stirring and the room was comfortably
warm. A big stove glowed in the middle of it, and the atmosphere was
permeated with the smell of hot iron, stale tobacco, and the exudations
from resinous boards.

Grant and his daughter had called when driving back from a distant
farm, and Trooper Flett had returned to the homestead after a futile
search for the liquor smugglers. He was not characterized by mental
brilliancy, but his persevering patience atoned for that, and his
superior officers considered him a sound and useful man. Sitting
lazily in an easy chair after a long day's ride in the nipping frost,
he discoursed upon the situation.

"Things aren't looking good," he said. "We've had two cases of
cattle-killing in the last month, besides some horses missing, and a
railroad contractor knocked senseless with an empty bottle; and
nobody's locked up yet."

"I don't think you have any reason to be proud of it," Edgar broke in.

Flett spread out his hands in expostulation.

"It's not our fault. I could put my hands on half a dozen men who're
at the bottom of the trouble; but what would be the use of that, when
the blamed jury would certainly let them off? In a case of this kind,
our system of justice is mighty apt to break down. It's a pet idea of
mine."

"How would you propose to alter it?" Edgar asked, to lead him on.

"If we must have a jury, I'd like to pick them, and they'd be men who'd
lost some stock. You could depend on them."

"There's something to be said for that," Grant admitted with a dry
smile.

"This is how we're fixed," Flett went on. "We're up against a small,
but mighty smart, hard crowd; we know them all right, but we can't get
after them. You must make good all you say in court, and we can't get
folks to help us. They'd rather mind the store, have a game of pool,
or chop their cordwood."

"I can think of