ral smiler grinned broadly. All warmed to the evening's amusement.

Now came the festive barn dance. The moccasined feet pounded the filthy
floor, and the dust gathered thick round the gums of the hard-breathing
dancers. The noise of coarse laughter and ribald shoutings increased.
All were pleased with themselves, but more pleased still with the fiery
liquid served out by Baptiste. The scene grew more wild as time crept
on, and the effect of the liquor made itself apparent. The fiddler
labored cruelly at his wretched instrument. His task was no light one,
but he spared himself no pains. His measure must be even, his tone
almost unending to satisfy his countrymen. He understood them, as did
Baptiste. To fail in his work would mean angry protests from those he
served, and angry protests amongst the Breeds generally took the form of
a shower of leaden bullets. So he scraped away with aching limbs, and
with heavy foot pounding out the time upon the crazy dais. He must play
until long after daylight, until his fingers cramped, and his old eyes
would remain open no longer.

Peter Retief had not as yet put in an appearance. Horrocks was at his
post viewing the scene from outside one of the broken windows. His men
were hard by, concealed at certain points in the shelter of some
straggling bush which surrounded the stable. Horrocks, with
characteristic energy and disregard for danger, had set himself the task
of spying out the land. He had a waiting game to play, but the result he
hoped would justify his action.

The scene he beheld was not new to him, his duties so often carried him
within the precincts of a half-breed camp. No one knew the Breeds better
than did this police officer.

Time passed. Again and again the fiddle ceased its ear-maddening screams
as refreshment was partaken of by the dancers. Wilder and wilder grew
the scene as the potent liquor took hold of its victims. They danced
with more and more reckless abandon as each time they returned to step
it to the fiddler's patient measure. Midnight approached and still no
sign of Retief. Horrocks grew restless and impatient.

Once the fiddle ceased, and the officer watching saw all eyes turn to
the principal entrance to the barn. His heart leapt in anticipation as
he gazed in the direction. Surely this sudden cessation could only
herald the coming of Retief.

He saw the door open as he craned forward to look. For the moment he
could not see who entered; a crowd o