They were approaching Talpers's store as the agent spoke. The store was a barn-like building, with a row of poplars at the north, and a big cottonwood in front. A few houses were clustered about. Bill Talpers, store-keeper and postmaster, looked out of the door as the automobile went past. Generally there were Indians sitting in front of the store, but to-day there were none. Plenty Buffalo volunteered the information that there had been a "big sing" on a distant part of the reservation which had attracted most of the residents from this neighborhood. Talpers was seen running out to his horse, which stood in front of the store. "He'll be along pretty soon," said the agent. "He knows there's something unusual going on." The road over which the party was traveling was sometimes called the Dollar Sign, for the reason that it wound across the reservation line like a letter S. After leaving White Lodge, which was off the reservation, any traveler on the road crossed the line and soon went through the agency. Then there was a curve which took him across the line again to Talpers's, after which a reverse curve swept back into the Indians' domain. All of which was the cause of no little trouble to the agent and the Indian police, for bootleggers found it easy to operate from White Lodge or Talpers's and drop back again across the line to safety. Another ten miles, on the sweep of the road toward the reservation, and the automobile was sighted. The body was found, as Plenty Buffalo had described it. The man had been murdered--that much was plain enough. "Buckshot, from a sawed-off shotgun probably," said the agent, shuddering. Whoever had fired the shot had done his work with deadly accuracy. Part of the man's face had been carried away. He had been well along in years, as his gray hair indicated, but his frame was sturdy. He was dressed in khaki--a garb much affected by transcontinental automobile tourists. The car which he had been driving was big and expensive. Other details were forgotten for the moment in the fact that the man had been staked to the prairie. Ropes had been attached to his hands and feet. These ropes were fastened to tent-stakes driven into the prairie. "The man had been camping along the route," said the agent, "and whoever did this shooting probably used the victim's own tent-stakes." This opinion was confirmed after a momentary examination of the tonneau of the car, which disclosed a tent, duffle-bag, and other camping equipment. "Look around the prairie and see if you can find any of this man's belongings scattered about," said Lowell. "Plenty Buffalo wants to know if you noticed all the pony tracks," said the interpreter. "Yes," replied Lowell bitterly. "I couldn't very well help seeing them. What does Plenty Buffalo think about them?" "They're Indian pony tracks--no doubt about that," said the interpreter, "but there is no telling just when they were made."