"Then his sudden departure at this time, without a word to anybody looks--odd," said the general, thoughtfully. "But _he_ had no need of money. He's one of the wealthiest men in Wyoming. And she--his wife,--needs nothing. He gives her all she can possibly want." By this time they were at the door. A lamp still burned dimly in the hallway, and Dade blew it out, as he ushered the general into the cosily lighted dining-room. "You'll excuse Mrs. Dade and Esther, I hope, sir. They are not yet up--quite overcome by anxiety and excitement,--there's been a lot about Frayne the last two days.--Take this chair, General. Coffee will be served at once. No, sir, as you say, the Hays have no need of money--he and his wife, that is." "But you suspect--whom?" asked the general, the blue-gray eyes intent on the troubled face before him, for Dade's very hesitancy told of some untold theory. The doctor and the aide had taken seats at the other end of the table and dutifully engaged in low-toned conversation. "That is a hard question for me to answer, General," was the answer. "I have no right to suspect anybody. We had no time to complete the investigation. There are many hangers-on, you know, about Hay's store, and indeed, his house. Then his household, too, has been increased, as perhaps you did not know. Mrs. Hay's niece--a very brilliant young woman--is visiting them, and she and Field rode frequently together." The general's face was a study. The keen eyes were reading Dade as a skilled physician would interpret the symptoms of a complicated case. "How old--and what is she like, Dade?" he asked. "The women can answer that better than I, sir. They say she must be twenty-four;--Mrs. Hay says nineteen--She is very dark and very handsome--at times. Most of our young men seem to think so, at least. She certainly rides and dances admirably, and Mr. Field was constantly her partner." The general began to see light. "Field was constantly with her, was he? Riding just by themselves or with others when they went out?" he asked. "By themselves, sir. I doubt if any other of our equestriennes would care to ride at her pace. She rather outstrips them all. The major told me they seemed to go--well, every time he saw them, at least,--up to Stabber's village, and that was something he disapproved of, though I dare say she was simply curious to see an Indian village, as an Eastern girl might be." "Possibly," said the general. "And what did you tell me--she is Mrs. Hay's niece? I don't remember _his_ having any niece when they were at Laramie in '66, though I knew something of Mrs. Hay, who was then but a short time married. She spoke Sioux and _patois_ French better than English in those days. What is the young lady's name?" "Miss Flower, sir. Nanette Flower."