"Look here, Grey," interrupted the Major, "I've had my eyes and ears open to that region for some time now. I've heard all those Indian stories, and believe them to be so many fairy tales, all purely imagination. I have lately received information, which I think is reliable, that certain men have crossed the mountains from the East, and are now prospecting up Hishu Creek. They have a small settlement at its mouth near the river. A notorious character, Siwash Bill by name, has a trading store there, and I believe him to be the ringleader of the gang who kidnapped that child. Prospectors on the Mackenzie River side of the mountains carried this news to Edmonton, which was forwarded to me only last week. I intended to send a man there shortly to investigate, but this unexpected occurrence demands immediate action."
Thus for an hour officer and subordinate sat and talked in the deepening twilight. When at length the latter rose to go, the Major reached forward and drew from a pigeon hole in the desk a small slip of paper.
"Wait a minute, Grey," he commanded. "I find that your time will be up two weeks from to-day."
"Yes, sir."
"And you intend to leave the Force then?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you don't mind being sent out on this business at the end of your time?"
"No, sir."
"Well said. I'll remember that. Good night, Grey, and God be with you."