He took a deep breath.
Lescheneaux, seeing himself already engaged in hounding the rebels, slipped jubilantly away with his command that night and Hector was left alone.
IV
The uprising, as everybody knew, was the product of the campaign which had been continued throughout the winter, among the ignorant and inflammable half-breeds and Indians.
That winter had been a busy one for Hector. In co-operation with Lescheneaux, he had kept Bear Tooth's reserve under constant observation. Indian and half-breed scouts helped the Police in watching the camps, attending the meetings and patrolling. Hector did his best to allay the mischievous talk. The Indians knew they were being closely observed but they did not know that no man went to or from the reserve or spoke a single word of sedition without Hector's knowledge. Night and day, week after week, in thaw or blinding blizzard or bitter cold snap, Hector and his men were in the saddle—silent, inconspicuous but never-resting guardians of the Queen's peace on the great frontier.
Meanwhile, the shadow of revolt grew darker and darker over the land.
And now—the shadow had become substance. Broncho lay at Bear Tooth's mercy—unless Hector could hold his warriors in check.
It was a terrible position.
Fortunately he had two staunch allies: Bear Tooth himself and Father Duval.
Hector had kept in touch with Father Duval, whom he knew to be using all his tremendous influence to divert disaster. He had also sounded and consulted Bear Tooth. The chief, he felt, was reliable and loyal.