When the cattle had been secured, Flora Grant welcomed the new arrivals graciously, and after a while they sat down to supper with the hired men in a big room. It was plainly furnished, but there was everything that comfort demanded, for the happy mean between bareness and superfluity had been cleverly hit, and George thought Miss Grant was responsible for this. He sat beside her at the foot of the long table and noticed the hired hands\' attitude toward her. It was respectful, but not diffident. The girl had no need to assert herself; she was on excellent terms with the sturdy toilers, who nevertheless cheerfully submitted to her rule.
When the meal was over, Grant led his guests into a smaller room, and produced a bag of domestic tobacco.
"The stock have gone far enough," he said. "You\'ll stay here to-night."
Flett looked doubtful, though it was obvious that he wished to remain. He was a young, brown-faced man, and his smart khaki uniform proclaimed him a trooper of the Northwest Mounted Police.
"The trouble is that I\'m a bit late on my round already," he protested.
"That\'s soon fixed," said Grant.
He opened a roll-top desk, and wrote a note which he read out:
"\'Constable Flett has been detained in the neighborhood of this homestead through having rendered, at my request, valuable assistance in rounding up a bunch of cattle, scattered in crossing the flooded river.\'"
"Thanks," said Flett. "That kind of thing counts when they\'re choosing a corporal."
Grant turned to George with a smile.
"Keep in with the police, Lansing—I\'ve known a good supper now and then go a long way. They may worry you about fireguards and fencing, but they\'ll stand by you when you\'re in trouble, if you treat them right. If it\'s a matter of straying stock, a sick horse, or you don\'t know how to roof a new barn, you have only to send for the nearest trooper."
"Aren\'t these things a little outside their duties?" Edgar asked.
The constable grinned.
"Most anything that wants doing badly is right in our line."
"Sure," said Grant. "It\'s not long since Flett went two hundred miles over the snow with a dog-team to settle a little difference between an Indian and his wife. Then he once brought a hurt trapper a fortnight\'s journey on his sledge, sleeping in the snow, in the bitterest weather. They were quite alone, and the hurt man was crazy most of the time."
"Then you\'re supposed to look after the settlers, as well as to keep order?" suggested Edgar, looking admiringly at the sturdy young constable.
"That\'s so," replied Flett. "They certainly need it. Last winter we struck one crowd in a lonely shack up north—man, woman, and several children huddled on the floor, with nothing to eat, and the stove out—at forty degrees below. There was a bluff a few miles off, but they hadn\'t a tool of any kind to cut cordwood with. Took us quite a while to haul them up some stores, though we made twelve-hour marches between our camps in the snow. We had to hustle that trip."
He paused and resumed:
"Better keep an eye on that bunch of young horses, Mr. Grant; bring them up nearer the house when the nights get darker. Those Clydesdales are mighty fine beasts and prices are high."
Grant looked astonished.
"I\'ve been here a good many years, and I\'ve never lost a horse," he declared.
"It doesn\'t follow you\'ll always be as lucky," the trooper said pointedly.
"I was told that property is as safe in the West as it is in England,"
Edgar broke in.
"Just so," remarked the trooper. "They say that kind of thing. I never was in the old country, but young mavericks aren\'t the only stock to go missing in Alberta, which isn\'t a long way off. The boys there have their hands full now and then, and we have three or four of the worst toughs I\'ve struck right in Sage Butte."
Grant leaned forward on the table, looking steadily at him.
"Hadn\'t you better tell me what you have in your mind?"
"I can\'t give you much information, but we got a hint from Regina to keep our eyes open, and from things I\'ve heard it\'s my idea that now that the boys have nearly stopped the running of Alberta cattle across the frontier, some of the toughs they couldn\'t track mean to start the same game farther east. Some of you ranchers run stock outside the fences, and I guess one could still find a lonely trail to the American border."
"Well," said Grant, "I\'m glad you told me." He turned to George. "Be careful, Lansing; you would be an easier mark."
They strolled outside; and after a while George joined Flora, and sauntered away across the grass with her. It was a clear, still evening, and the air was wonderfully fresh.
"Though he wouldn\'t let me thank him, I feel I\'m seriously indebted to your father, Miss Grant," he said. "Our horses were worn out, and the stock had all scattered when he turned up with the trooper."
"I believe he enjoyed the ride, and the night in the rain," replied Flora. "You see, he had once to work very hard here, and now that things have changed, he finds it rather tame. He likes to feel he\'s still capable of a little exertion."
"I shouldn\'t consider him an idle man."
Flora laughed.
"That would be very wrong; but the need for continual effort and the strain of making ends meet, with the chance of being ruined by a frozen crop, have passed. I believe he misses the excitement of it."
"Then I gather that he built up this great farm?"
"Yes; from a free quarter-section. He and my mother started in a two-roomed shack. They were both from Ontario, but she died several years ago." The girl paused. "Sometimes I think she must have had remarkable courage, I can remember her as always ready in an emergency, always tranquil."
George glanced at her as she stood, finely posed, looking out across the waste of grass with gravely steady eyes, and it occurred to him that she resembled her mother in the respects she had mentioned. Nevertheless, he felt inclined to wonder how she had got her grace and refinement. Alan Grant was forceful and rather primitive.
"Have you spent much of your time here?" he asked.
"No," she answered. "My mother was once a school-teacher, and she must have had ambitious views for me. When the farm began to prosper, I was sent to Toronto. After that I went to Montreal, and finally to England."
"You must be fond of traveling."
"Oh," she said, with some reserve, "I had thought of taking up a profession."
"And you have abandoned the idea?"
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