Also that we have recovered all the stolen money."
"What sort of cock-and-bull story is this?" Stone broke in angrily.
"Preposterous! Orderly, call----"
"Easy, easy now, Captain Stone," the older man cut in sharply. "A man
doesn't make a statement like that without some proof. By the way," he
asked abruptly, "how did you manage to elude Major Lessard and get in
here?"
MacRae pointed to one of the horses. "We didn't elude him. You'll find
what's left of the black-hearted devil under that canvas," he answered
coolly. "Lessard was at the bottom of the crookedness. We've packed him
and Paul Gregory fifty miles for you to see."
"Ha!" the old fellow seemed not so surprised as I had expected. He
glanced over the lot of us and let another long-drawn "ha" escape.
"May I ask a favor, Colonel Allen?" MacRae continued. "This lady has had
a hard day. Will you excuse her, for the present? We have a story to
tell that you may find hard to credit."
The colonel (I'd heard of him before; I knew when MacRae spoke his name
that he was Commander-in-Chief of the Northwest Mounted Police, the
biggest gun of all) favored us with another appraising stare.
"These men, I take it, are prisoners?" he said, pointing to Hicks and
Bevans.
"You bet your sweet life them's prisoners," Piegan broke in with
cheerful assurance.
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