"You were speaking of a girl on Ranger’s farm that the chap Fellows was supposed to be sweet on. Now, as there is one on the same farm that I have had my eye upon for some time, you’ll understand the interest I may appear to be taking in this matter. I should like to know the name of the girl referred to, if you can tell me?" "Oh! is that how the wind blows?" laughed the other. "Well, I don’t want you to go blabbing about the matter; we’ve all got soft moments in our lives." "Never fear, my boy! Jack Hart’s not the chap to spoil sport." "Call it sport if you like, but tell me who is the girl this Fellows is after?" "Her name is Jess Russell. She is the daughter of one of Ranger’s men; and they do say as fine a looking specimen of the sex as is to be found in the North-West." "That’s not the one I was thinking about. I don’t know her; but beauty though she maybe, I’ll back my girl to go one better." "Poor old Puffey! Hit at last! I shouldn’t have thought it of you." "Well, it’s not a case yet; so mind what I’ve said, that ’mum’s’ the word." "Right you are! Nor is it a clear case yet with that Fellows, as it is said a chap named Barton has been noticed sneaking round after the same girl." "Oh," was Puffey’s comment; "then there’s likely to be ructions there before long, if that’s the case." "Just as likely as not," was the reply. "Well, good-night, Puffey. I must be going." "So long, old chap," was his parting salute, as Puffey mounted his horse and rode away, feeling that he had learned one thing from what he had heard, and that was the cause which had led up to Barton’s letter. The next day Puffey, pursuing his quest, ventured to ride boldly up to Ranger’s homestead and inquire for Fellows by name. He was told he was at work in the fields, but on receiving directions where he was to be found, and how he might know him, he resolved to go in search of Fellows, first stating, in order to allay any fears as to his motives, that he was commissioned by his officer personally to thank him for the part he had taken in the recent raid. After a rather extended search, he at length came across his man, out on a distant part of the prairie cutting corn. Some astonishment was naturally manifested at the sight of a member of the mounted police inquiring for one of the workers on the farm. There are certain people who are seldom regarded as welcome visitors. A man never hears that a policeman is inquiring for him without a feeling of uneasiness beginning to steal over him, he could not perhaps tell why, although all the time perfectly conscious that there was no need to be at all apprehensive as to his object. With Fellows it was different, since, although he had no reason to think that his secret had been discovered, there was his own consciousness of guilt, ever present, and ready to start into activity at the first symptoms of coming danger.