Sam winked at the policeman. "Don't you ever worry abaht us, miss; we know our way abaht, don't we, Capting?"
"Sure," laughed the horseman, removing his eyes from Esther for a fraction of a second. He still sat his horse. Bert perceived how he and Miss Trailey were momentarily smitten with each other. Mounties used to see girls like this one only in dreams; and handsome, red-coated horsemen, more like cavalry than policemen, will cause any romantic female's heart to flutter.
Pressed to stay for breakfast, the rider politely declined food, but accepted a cup of coffee. He said he had bivouacked and breakfasted with some Devonshire people a mile or two farther along the trail. Dismounting, he slipped an arm through his bridle rein, and stood sipping the drink, whilst his horse tugged to be free to nibble away at the tawny grass. He was a tall man with strong features and clear, blue eyes. The great, wide spaces had painted a vivid picture of health on his pleasant face.
He proved to be a highly-interesting fellow, too. His prairie experience reached back to the Riel Rebellion. Between glances at Esther, he contrived to let drop much useful information, without seeming to be preaching, or tendering advice.
As he remounted to depart, Sam, with many recollections of London bobbies, tipped him a wink and went through the motion of drinking something from a phantom cup, an invitation which all over creation means but one thing.
"No, thanks," said the mountie; "I never touch it." In explanation of his refusal, he said the constables of the N.W.M.P. were all of them rigid teetotalers—a statement which to Trailey was conducive of the keenest gratification, but which surprised Sam almost to the point of shock.
"Keep your eyes skinned for that Eagle Creek," shouted the horseman warningly as he rode away.
CHAPTER X
Indian Freighters—Eagle Creek
Notwithstanding Mrs. Trailey's covert opinion to the contrary, Bertrand Paul Tressider was not entirely devoid of ideas. True, he had been educated at one of England's most ancient, and, therefore, most noted, preparatory schools, which, like all others of its kind, annually turned out droves of mediocrities. Sparring with the gods of Greek mythology, wrestling with the heroes of Roman history, and dabbling in other ancient and dead things, though ruining many good men's chances of excelling as first-rate stevedores, or potmen, hadn't spoiled Bert. The very fact of his cutting loose from the fustiness of English law in order to join in Barr's search for a prairie Elysium proves that. And his training among Yorkshire men, in a Sheffield solicitor's busy office, had taught him that indubitably five beans counted five. No one, no matter how finely educated, can mix for very long with Yorkshire men without learning that much. If the beans are represented by pounds, or even by halfpence, the knowledge is usually acquired very quickly.