oad, case any of them double back
and try that way. They've got a hell of a haul among them. We'll be
coverin' nearly every road, for Downie has scared up a bunch and is
off up the B.X. route. McConnachie got three with him on to the
Landing. Thompson, the Government Agent, is away hell-for-leather with
Morrison on the Coldcreek Road.

"Gee!--but it'll be great dope if I land them."

"It will be further promotion and highly commended," remarked Phil.

Howden grinned, but the grin could only be surmised by the others, for
it was dark just preceding the dawn. They cantered quickly up the hill
and on to the level winding road cut along the side of the hills, with
the endless ranges on the right and a sheer drop into the Kalamalka
Lake on the immediate left.

"But how did they pull it off, Howden? Didn't the bank have a watchman
on the premises?"

"Sure they had!--that greasy Chink, Ah Sing, and half a dozen black
cats."

Jim laughed.

"We found Sing gagged and tied up to one of the big desks."

Jim whistled.

"Where is Sing now?"

"Where we can get him when we want him," answered Howden. "I put him
under lock and key right away."

"The best place for him," remarked Jim.

"He's whimpering like a baby-monkey, too. We'll get all we want out of
him before he's long there."

"Did you find out how they got into the bank?"

"That's the fishy bit! Sing says he opened the door and looked out for
a breath of air, when someone hit him over the nut. The next he says
he remembers was being tied up. His head is cut open all right, but
all the same, I wouldn't wonder if the Chink's a liar."

"They say they have a reputation for that kind of thing," put in
Phil.

Jim's brain was busy, but he remained silent.

They galloped hard along that part of the road which diverged from the
Lake, keeping their eyes to the right in the direction of the old
trail between the hills to the Landing, and straight ahead also where
the road ran parallel again three hundred feet above the water.

There was no moon. The night was dark, but away over Blue Nose
Mountain the grey of dawn was slowly creeping.

Like a writhing snake, the Kelowna Road turned and twisted round the
hills which almost precipitated into the dark waters below.

The riders were now going Indian file owing to the darkness and the
narrowness of the path. Phil, who was ahead--for he had a horse that
refused to stay in the rear of any other horse--turned the first b