“What!—How?” cried Tom Clifton, springing to his feet.
A ripple of exclamations came from the others. Sergeant Erskine surveyed them gravely.
“Just this: his horse was recovered on the other side of the international border. It had evidently been turned loose. What do you make out of that?”
“Never see him more,” exclaimed Teddy Banes.
“You mean to say that Jed—Jed Warren—is a deserter?” demanded Bob Somers, incredulously.
“We let the facts speak for themselves,” answered Erskine. “If you were not such particular friends of his I might tell you that the Mounted Police are not accustomed to discuss their affairs with strangers, but——”
“Of course we understand,” said Dave Brandon.
“What are the facts? Just these: It takes a man of resourcefulness and iron nerve to work on the kind of a case we put into Jed Warren’s hands.”
“Jed has both,” broke in Tom Clifton.
The sergeant inclined his head, then resumed: