In confusion they drew apart, and turned to see a short, stocky shape standing on the edge of the beach.
"Oh—Colonel Devreaux!" said Dexter awkwardly.
"Yes." The old man advanced and fixed them with his grim scrutiny. "It looks to me as though I'd lost one of my best boys. I dislike to say it, but I'm afraid you're dropped from the rolls of the mounted."
"Just a moment," he went on as the corporal tried to speak. "Unless my eyes have gone bad, I take it that you two have a sort of an understanding between you. And the service is no place for a man's wife." He was silent for a moment as he measured Dexter up and down with his eyes. "You would have gone high in the ranks of the police," he said in a musing voice. "Now that you're leaving us I don't mind telling you that you've got the stuff. And that's why I know you'll go higher still outside the police—in civilian life. Your job from this time on is to make this girl happy."
The colonel turned on his heel, but before he could move away Alison stepped impulsively forward, caught him by both shoulders and kissed his stern-drawn lips.
"I wanted to," she said with a fluttering laugh. "I've wanted to do it for a long time."
Devreaux chuckled to himself, and his glance shifted back to the corporal. "I told you long ago," he remarked—"women—you never can tell about 'em. You're luckier than most of us. You've found the one in a billion. Hold on to her, David." The colonel drew a breath that sounded very much like a sigh, faced about abruptly, and strode off into the darkness.
"Like this!" said Alison. She found Dexter's hand, and drew his arm about her shoulders. "Your officer told you what to do. Tight—tighter!" She looked up at him with a tremulous smile, and her eyes slowly closed. "Still your prisoner," she whispered softly—"just like this—always."
THE END