And that was as far as the famous Shingleville raid ever got. Daly did his best to collect even circumstantial evidence against the participants, but in vain. He could not even get anyone to say that a single member of the village of Carpenter had absented himself from town that morning. This might have been from loyalty, or it might have been from fear of the vengeance the Fighting Forty would surely visit on a traitor. Probably it was a combination of both. The fact remains, however, that Daly never knew surely of but one man implicated in the destruction of his plant. That man was Injin Charley, but Injin Charley promptly disappeared. After an interval, Tim Shearer, Radway and Kerlie came out again. “Where's the boss?” asked Shearer. “I don't know, Tim,” replied Wallace seriously. “I've looked everywhere. He's gone. He must have been all cut up. I think he went out in the woods to get over it. I am not worrying. Harry has lots of sense. He'll come in about dark.” “Sure!” said Tim. “How about the boy's stakes?” queried Radway. “I hear this is a bad smash for the firm.” “We'll see that the men get their wages all right,” replied Carpenter, a little disappointed that such a question should be asked at such a time. “All right,” rejoined the contractor. “We're all going to need our money this summer.” Chapter LVII Thorpe walked through the silent group of men without seeing them. He had no thought for what he had done, but for the triumphant discovery he had made in spite of himself. This he saw at once as something to glory in and as a duty to be fulfilled. It was then about six o'clock in the morning. Thorpe passed the boarding-house, the store, and the office, to take himself as far as the little open shed that served the primitive town as a railway station. There he set the semaphore to flag the east-bound train from Duluth. At six thirty-two, the train happening on time, he climbed aboard. He dropped heavily into a seat and stared straight in front of him until the conductor had spoken to him twice. “Where to, Mr. Thorpe?” he asked. The latter gazed at him uncomprehendingly. “Oh! Mackinaw City,” he replied at last. “How're things going up your way?” inquired the conductor by way of conversation while he made out the pay-slip. “Good!” responded Thorpe mechanically.