The policeman rested with us in the shade of the house for an hour or two, chatting breezily, and smoking numerous cigarettes. Neither Jack nor I smoked at that time, but I think it must be recorded that Brook introduced us, somewhat hesitatingly, to the alleged charms of Lady Nicotine. In short, we smoked rather less than half a cigarette each. It is one of the complexities of woman's nature which I did not understand then, and do not understand yet, that Jean, who openly admired this cigarette-smoking policeman, scaled me down many feet in her estimation because I surrendered to a single inch of temptation. At length Brook insisted that he must be on his way, but before going he laid a dollar bill on the table in payment for his meal. We objected most strenuously to accepting money for our hospitality, but as he pointed out that it was the Government that footed the bill, we allowed ourselves to be persuaded. Governments, like railways, are legitimate prey. Also, from somewhere, the policeman produced a small box of candy, which he presented impartially to Marjorie and Jean. But most important, in-so-far as this story is concerned, was a bundle of letters. They were tied together with a stout string, with only the backs of the envelopes exposed, and on them was written in a bold hand the single word "Spoof". "They're for a young Englishman who is to be a neighbour of yours," Brook explained. "He left word at the Regina post-office, asking to have his mail sent out if there was any chance. It seems he had some local fame under the name of Spoof, and the clerk in the post-office readdressed his letters that way. That's discipline for you! My word, what they wouldn't do to a man in the Force----" "I know him," I broke in; "at least I have heard of him. Jake, our land guide told us about him. Where does he settle?" "North-west quarter of Two," said the policeman. "Two miles due south of you, as the crow flies, or would fly, if he had occasion to. Spoof isn't there yet--I came by the quarter this morning. I suppose he's travelling by ox-team and will arrive some time later in the season. You'll see his sign up on Two when he gets here, and perhaps one of you wouldn't mind dropping in on him with this mail, if he doesn't call on you within a few days. He's English, and he may wait for an introduction." We shook hands with the policeman and parted with him, and the girls stood watching the scarlet figure as it faded to a speck in the distance. "Isn't he wonderful, Frank?" said Jean, turning to me with an enthusiasm dancing in her eyes which, under any other circumstances, it would have been good to see. "Don't you think that he --that all of the Mounted Police--are very wonderful?" "_All_ of the Mounted Police are wonderful," I agreed, catching at the impersonal noun. "They are a wonderful Force. They have a tradition which has made them what they are. It is '_Get your man!_'"