o tell you about it. It had me scared to death. That's so.
Even McDowell shirked it. He told me Steve had to get the whole yarn
before he got into Reindeer. That's the sort of folk we are. And it's
not a thing to brag about."

The other shook his head.

"It needs good men to hate hurting another," he said. "Guess it's a
scare you don't need to be ashamed of. I'll tell him because I've got
to. I hate it worse than hell. But I owe the hurt to myself for the way
I've--failed his trust."

"I don't see you need to blame yourself, Doc," the youngster returned,
becoming judicial under his relief. "Steve won't, if I know him. This
sort of thing happens right along under a husband's nose. Just as long
as woman's what she is, and there's low down skunks of men around,
why--But, say, there's something doing at the camp!"

He lifted his reins and urged his weary horse into a rapid canter, and
the doctor's horse clung close to its flank. The eager eyes of both were
searching for the meaning of the stir which the youthful Inspector had
detected. And instinctively they gazed out down the broad waters of the
placid river as far as the rapidly deepening twilight would permit.

Simultaneously their eyes rested on two objects, a little indistinct,
floating upon the water. They looked so small in the immensity of the
spread of the river. But even so their outline was familiar enough.

"Canoes!" cried Belton.

"It's him!" came in the deep tones of the doctor.

Five minutes later they were out of the saddle and standing with others
on the grassy river bank watching the steady approach of two canoes,
paddling their way up against the easy, sluggish stream.

Near by were the two four-horsed wagons, and the camp-fire with the
forgotten supper still wafting its pleasant odours upon the breathless
air. Flies, too, and mosquitoes were in abundance. But these, like the
rest, were forgotten. The men of the police outfit had eyes and thoughts
for the canoes only. Each and all were wondering at that which they were
to reveal.

Suddenly a shout broke the profound stillness. It came from the young
officer who could restrain himself no longer.

"Ho, you, Steve!"

The shout carried away over the water. Those on the bank could almost
hear it travel. Then followed what seemed an interminable interval. But
it was seconds only before a faint call came back.

"Hoo-y!"

The policeman was given no opportunity for reply. The doctor's great
husky