“Aunt,” she said, with a little tremor in her voice, “It is almost bewildering.  Still, one seemed to feel that what that man has done could never have been the work of Lance Courthorne.”

Miss Barrington made no answer, but her face was very grave, and just then those nearest it drew back a little from the door.  A trooper stood outside it, his carbine glinting in the light, and another was silhouetted against the sky, sitting motionless in his saddle further back on the prairie.

“The police are still here,” said somebody.  One by one they passed out under the trooper’s gaze, but there was the usual delay in harnessing and saddling, and the first vehicle had scarcely rolled away, when again the beat of hoofs and thin jingle of steel came portentously out of the silence.  Maud Barrington shivered a little as she heard it.

In the meanwhile, the few who remained had seated themselves about Colonel Barrington.  When there was quietness again, he glanced at Winston, who still sat at the foot of the table.

“Have you anything more to tell us?” he asked.  “These gentlemen are here to advise me if necessary.”

“Yes,” said Winston quietly.  “I shall probably leave Silverdale before morning, and have now to hand you a statement of my agreement with Courthorne and the result of my farming here, drawn up by a Winnipeg accountant.  Here is also a document in which I have taken the liberty of making you and Dane my assigns.  You will, as authorized by it, pay to Courthorne the sum due to him, and with your consent, which you have power to withhold, I purpose taking one thousand dollars only of the balance that remains to me.  I have it here now, and in the meanwhile surrender it to you.  Of the rest, you will make whatever use that appears desirable for the general benefit of Silverdale.  Courthorne has absolutely no claim upon it.”

He laid a wallet on the table, and Dane glanced at Colonel Barrington, who nodded when he returned it unopened.

“We will pass it without counting.  You accept the charge, sir?” he said.

“Yes,” said Barrington gravely.  “It seems it is forced on me.  Well, we will glance through the statement.”

For at least ten minutes nobody spoke, and then Dane said.  “There are prairie farmers who would consider what he is leaving behind him a competence.”

“If this agreement, which was apparently verbal, is confirmed by Courthorne, the entire sum rightfully belongs to the man he made his tenant,” said Barrington, and Macdonald smiled gravely as he glanced at Winston.

“I think we can accept the statement that it was made without question, sir,” he said.

Winston shook his head.  “I claim one thousand dollars as the fee of my services, and they should be worth that much, but I will take no more.”

“Are we not progressing a little too rapidly, sir?” said Dane.  “It seems to me we have yet to decide whether it is necessary that the man who has done so much for us should leave Silverdale.”