The two horsemen drew nearer, and it appeared that both wore uniform, while I caught the glint of carbines. This in itself was significant, and I wondered whether Mackay had discovered the identity of Boone. Shortly I recognized the sergeant and Cotton, who a little later drew bridle beside the seeder. Mackay's face was expressionless, but Cotton looked distinctly unhappy, and once more I felt sorry for Boone.
"I have a word for ye. Will ye walk to the house with me?" said the former. I glanced at Cotton, who, stooping, pretended to examine his carbine. Thorn appeared suspicious, for he dropped the lines he held, and his eyes grew keen.
"I'm sorry that is the one thing I can't do just now, when every moment of this weather is precious," I said. "If you can't wait until we stop at noon, there's no apparent reason why you shouldn't state your business here."
"Ye had better come," said Mackay, looking very wooden. "Forby, I'm thinking ye will sow no more to-day."
"I'm not in the humor for joking, and intend to continue sowing until it is too dark to see," I answered shortly. "Have you any authority to prevent me?"
"I have," said the sergeant. "Well, if ye will have it—authority to arrest ye on a charge of unlawfully burning the homestead of Gaspard's Trail."
Astonishment, dismay, and anger held me dumb between them for a few moments. Then, as the power of speech returned, I said: "Confound you, Mackay! You don't think I could possibly have had any hand in that?"
"It's no' my business to think," was the dry answer; "I'm here to carry out orders. What was it ye were observing, Foreman Thorn?"
"Only that Niven or Lane was a mighty long time finding this thing out; and that, while nobody expects too much from the police, we never figured they were clean, stark, raging lunatics," said Thorn.
"I'm no' expecting compliments," said Mackay. "Ye will do your duty, Corporal Cotton."