o me from Hawley;
he had written it that way." She crossed the room, sinking down into
a chair facing him. "And you have actually confused me with Christie
Maclaire all this while? Have never known who I was?"

He shook his head.

"I told you to call me Hope; that is my name--I am Hope Waite."

"Waite!" he leaned forward, startled by the possibility--"not--not--"

"Yes," she burst in, holding out her hands, clasping the locket, "and
this was my father's; where did you get it?"

He took the trinket from her, turning it over in his fingers. Little by
little the threads of mystery were being unravelled, yet, even now,
he could not see very far. He looked up from the locket into her
questioning face.

"Did I not tell you? No; then it was an oversight. This was about the
throat of one of the men I buried at Cimmaron Crossing, but--but, Hope,
it was not your father."

"I know," her voice choking slightly. "Mrs. Murphy found that out; that
is why I am here. I heard my father came to Sheridan, and I wanted you
to help me find him."

He was thinking, and did not answer at once, and she went on in some
alarm.

"Do you know anything about him, Captain Keith? Where is he? Why is he
here? Don't be afraid to tell me."

He pressed the locket back into her hand, retaining the latter,
unresisted, within his own.

"I have not seen your father, Hope, but he was certainly here a few days
ago, for Fairbain met him. They were together in the army. I am going to
tell you all I know--it seems to be a tangled web, but the ends must be
somewhere, although, I confess, I am all at sea."

He told it slowly and simply, bringing forth his earlier suspicion, and
how he had stumbled upon facts apparently confirming them. He related
her father's robbery, his loss of valuable papers, and the conversation
between Hawley and Scott which led to the suspicion that these same
papers had fallen into the hands of the former, and were the basis of
his plot. Hope listened, breathless with interest, her widely opened
eyes filled with wonder. As he concluded speaking she burst forth:

"But I don't understand in the least, Captain Keith. Why did this man
Hawley send me to the Salt Fork?"

"He thought he was dealing with Christie Maclaire. He had some reason
for getting her away; getting her where he could exercise influence over
her."

"Yes--yes; but who is she?"

"That is what makes the matter so hard to unravel. She doesn't even
know herself.