"We have a visitor,'* she said. "He is Constable Morgan, of the Mounted; and he is having the best time with the children—he is only a boy himself."
Connie grinned and extended his hand. "Just dropped in to spend the evening," he said.
The man took the hand and nodded. "You're welcome," he answered gruffly. "Hank Dubro's my name—I'm a new settler in these parts."
"Supper is ready!" announced the woman, and Connie noticed that the man carefully lifted the children to their places and saw that his wife was seated before drawing up his own chair. Somehow, in spite of the man's gruffness, the boy liked him for that. When the meal was finished the man lifted the children down and then filled his pipe.
"Where you headin'?" he asked.
"Oh, just on special patrol," answered the boy. "Thought I'd cross over and have a look at the Indians on the head- waters of the Gravel River." Again he was conscious that a swift glance passed between the man and his wife.
"You headed up the wrong creek!" exclaimed the man. "You should have kept on up the Stewart till you struck Little Brown Bear. It's the
