dreaded then what
recollection would bring to her awakening. But there was neither grief
nor terror in the quiet look she bent first on one then the other; only
a kind of annoyed perplexity. She closed her eyes again without
speaking, and presently her deepened breathing told them that she slept.

"Thank God!" whispered Stonor. "It's the best thing for her."

Mary followed him out of the shack. "Watch her close," he charged her.
"If you want me for anything come down to the beach and hail."

Stonor procured another knife and returned to the body. In the light of
Clare's identification he could have no further doubt that this was
indeed the remains of the unhappy Imbrie. She had her own means of
identification, he supposed. The man, undoubtedly deranged, must have
pushed off in his canoe and let the current carry him to his death.
Stonor, however, thinking of the report he must make to his commanding
officer, knew that his speculations were not sufficient. Much as he
disliked the necessity, it was incumbent on him to perform an autopsy.

This developed three surprising facts in this order: (a) there was no
water in the dead man's lungs, proving that he was already dead when his
body entered the water: (b) there was a bullet-hole through his heart:
(c) the bullet itself was lodged in his spine.

For a moment Stonor thought of murder--but only for a moment. A
glance showed him that the bullet was of thirty-eight calibre, a
revolver-bullet. Revolvers are unknown to the Indians. Stonor knew
that there were no revolvers in all the country round except his own,
Gaviller's forty-four, and one that the dead man himself might have
possessed. Consequently he saw no reason to change his original theory
of suicide. Imbrie, faced by that terrible drop, had merely hastened
the end by putting a bullet through his heart.

Stonor kept the bullet as possible evidence. He then looked about for a
suitable burial-place. His instinct was to provide the poor fellow with
a fair spot for his last long rest. Up on top of the low precipice of
rock that has been mentioned, there was a fine point of vantage visible
up-river beyond the head of the rapids. At no small pains Stonor dragged
the body up here, and with his knife dug him a shallow grave between the
roots of a conspicuous pine. It was a long, hard task. He covered him
with brush in lieu of a coffin, and, throwing the earth back, heaped a
cairn of stones on top. Placing a flat stone in