y fellow,--a man with a history and a
mystery, I judge."

"A man with a history,--a mystery,--who is tall, slim, has dark eyes and
swarthy complexion, and faints away at sight of Miss Renwick, might be
said to possess peculiar characteristics,--family traits, some of them.
Of course you've kept an eye on McLeod. Where is he?"

Chester stood leaning on the rail, breathing slowly and heavily. His
eyes dilated as he gazed at Armitage, who was surveying him coolly,
though the tone in which he spoke betrayed a new interest and a vivid
one.

"I confess I never thought of him in connection with this affair," said
Chester.

"There's the one essential point of difference between us," was the
reply. "You go in on the supposition that there is only one solution to
this thing, and that a woman must be dishonored to begin with. I believe
there can be several solutions, and that there is only one thing in the
lot that is at all impossible."

"What's that?"

"Miss Renwick's knowledge of that night's visitor, or of any other
secret or sin. I mean to work other theories first; and the McLeod trail
is a good one to start on. Where can I get a look at him?"

"Somewhere out in the Rockies by this time. He was ordered back to his
troop five days ago, and they are out scouting at this moment, unless
I'm vastly mistaken. You have seen the morning despatches?"

"About the Indians? Yes. Looks squally at the Spirit Rock reservation.
Do you mean that McLeod is there?"

"That's where his troop ought to be by this time. There is too small a
force on the trail now, and more will have to go if a big outbreak is to
be prevented."

"Then he has gone, and I cannot see him. Let me look at the window,
then."

A few steps brought them to the terrace, and there, standing by the west
wall and looking up at the closed slats of the dormer-window, Captain
Chester retold the story of his night-adventure. Armitage listened
attentively, asking few questions. When it was finished, the latter
turned and walked to the rear door, which opened on the terrace. It was
locked.

"The servants are having a holiday, I presume," he said. "So much the
better. Ask the quartermaster for the key of the front door, and I'll go
in while everybody is out looking at dress-parade. There goes first call
now. Let your orderly bring it to me here, will you?"

Ten minutes later, with beating heart, he stood and uncovered his
handsome head and gazed silently, reverently a