Stimson raised a restraining hand. "My lad," he said dryly, "the police trooper who gets advancement is the one that carries out his orders and never questions them, until he can show that they are wrong. Then he uses a good deal of discretion. Now you know your duty?"
"Yes, sir," said Payne, and Stimson, shaking his bridle, cantered off across the prairie.
Then, seeing no need to waste time, the corporal rode towards Courthorne's homestead, and found its owner stripping a binder. Pieces of the machine lay all around him, and from the fashion in which he handled them it was evident that he was capable of doing what the other men at Silverdale left to the mechanic at the settlement. Payne wondered, as he watched him, who had taught the gambler to use spanner and file.
"I will not trouble you if you are busy, Mr. Courthorne, but if you would give me the returns the Bureau ask for, it would save me riding round again," he said.
"I'm afraid I can't," said Winston. "You see, I haven't had the papers."
"Trooper Bacon told me he had given them to you."
"I don't seem to remember it," said Winston.
Payne laughed. "One forgets things when he is busy. Still, you had them--because you signed for them."
Winston looked up suddenly, and in another moment smiled, but he was a trifle too late, for Payne had seen his astonishment, and that he was now on guard.
"Well," he said, "I haven't got them now. Send me a duplicate. You have, no doubt, some extra forms at the outpost."