"Man?" Mr. Ramsay had found his tongue at last; so while the Mess Orderly was laying breakfast before him, the Colonel went on reassured—
"Yes. My Division has been sent across the Rockies here into British Columbia because the Kootenay tribes have been a little restive. There was a medicine man from somewhere in Idaho at the bottom of all the trouble, and he being an American subject, I was not willing to risk the loquacity of the newspapers yonder. To arrest him meant worry and red tape without end."
"What, sir?" the senior Subaltern spoke anxiously. "Have you"—
"No," the Colonel smiled over his coffee cup, "I went as a civilian; as a civilian I herded him like a steer across the Tobacco Plains, and left him in gaol under a bogus charge in United States territory. That's my hunting, gentlemen."
The Colonel had given his guest time enough to shake off any embarrassment; indeed, the youngster had by this time helped himself uninvited to a second rasher of bacon, put on an air of assured worldliness, and was evidently trying to assume the easy devil-may-care freedom of manners which he supposed to be characteristic of the Far West.
"A little more bacon?" said the Colonel gracefully, with a wink towards his senior Inspector.
"Oh—ah—thanks—yes—I mean I've helped myself." The Tenderfoot was blushing to the roots of his hair.
"I hope my young gentlemen have been entertaining you properly?" continued the Colonel, at which the junior Inspector burst out laughing.
"We've tried, sir." Mr. Fraser Gaye met an inquiring glance from the Colonel. "We gave this gentleman your tent, with some of our bedding; but when he tried to turn in last night he fell foul of one of the Quartermaster's sheep lashed to the cot. Mr. Ramsay says he was kicked half-way across the parade ground."
"I must say," the Colonel tried to be grave, "I had some misgivings when I met La Mancha just now. He wore that eager-child innocence of expression which always means some fresh outrage. I promise you, Mr. Ramsay, that he shall have occasion to repent."