constantly in his mind. He thought of her standing at the door of the mission house bidding them good-by. How beautiful she looked then, although her eyes were misty, and her voice trembled as she tried to be brave and smile a cheery farewell. He had stooped and kissed her right before the constable, and he did not know that the latter’s heart was strangely stirred. He, too, longed for someone to care for him as Marion did for the sergeant. He envied North his good fortune, but it was envy robbed of all sting and malice. But away from The Gap his buoyant spirit once more gained the mastery, and he was apparently as light-hearted as ever. He joked, sang snatches of songs, and quoted poetry to his heart’s content. North, if he heard, paid no attention to his companion, so completely wrapped up was he in his own affairs.
The first night they encamped with the band of Indians who had given Tom such a warm welcome. These natives had heard nothing about the presence of any white man in the hills. They were enthusiastic over the idea of returning to The Gap, and asked the police numerous questions about the Gikhi. The visitors listened with much interest to the Indian service that night, which was conducted by the oldest native present. The constable’s face showed his approval, and his eyes sparkled with animation. The sergeant, on the other hand, expressed no outward sign. But he was doing considerable thinking, and his heart was stirred more than usual. He made no comment then, but the next day while resting and eating a cold lunch, he turned suddenly to his companion, who was seated on a fallen log by his side.
“Say, Tom,” he began, I’ve been thinking much to-day about that Indian service last night.”
