There was but one course for Hamlin to pursue. He had no trail to follow, only a vague suspicion that these plotters were in some way concerned in the mysterious disappearance. Thus far, however, they had left behind no clue to their participation. Moreover he was seriously handicapped by ignorance of any motive. Why should they desire to gain possession of the girl? It could not be money, or the hope of ransom. What then? Was it some accident which had involved her in the toils prepared for another? If so, were those unexpected orders for Major McDonald a part of the conspiracy, or had their receipt complicated the affair? The Sergeant was a soldier, not a detective, and could only follow a straight road in his investigation. He must circle widely until he found some trail to follow as patiently as an Indian. There would be tracks left somewhere, if he could only discover them. If this was a hasty occurrence, in any way an accident, something was sure to be left uncovered, some slip reveal the method. He would trace the movements of the father first, and then search the saloons and gambling dens for the two men. Though unsuccessful with Mrs. Dupont, he knew how to deal with such as they. The stage agent was routed out of bed and came to the door, revolver in hand, startled and angry. "Who?" he repeated. "Major McDonald? How the hell should I know? Some officer went out--yes; heavy set man with a mustache. I did n't pay any attention to him; had government transportation. There were two other passengers, both men, ranchers, I reckon; none in the station at all. What's that, Jane?" A woman's voice spoke from out the darkness behind. "Was the soldier asking if Major McDonald went East on the coach, Sam?" "Sure; what do you know about it?" "Why, I was outside when they started," she explained, "and the man in uniform was n't the Major. I know him by sight, for he 's been down here a dozen times when I was at the desk. This fellow was about his size, but dark and stoop-shouldered." "And the others?" asked Hamlin eagerly. "I did n't know either of them, only I noticed one had a black beard." "A very large, burly fellow?" "No, I don't think so. I did n't pay special attention to any of them, only to wonder who the officer was, 'cause I never remembered seein' him here before at Dodge, but, as I recollect, the fellow with a beard was rather undersized; had a shaggy buffalo-skin cap on." Plainly enough the man was not Dupont, and McDonald had not departed on the stage, while some other, pretending to be he, possibly wearing his clothes to further the deceit, had taken the seat reserved in the coach. Baffled, bewildered by this unexpected discovery, the Sergeant swung back into his saddle, not knowing which way to turn. CHAPTER XXIII THE DEAD BODY