"I'd give a heap to git a cinch on him," Seth replied thoughtfully. "He's smart. His tracks are covered every time. Howsum, if things git doin' this spring, I've a notion we'll run him down mebbe--later." The Agent was all interest. "Have you discovered anything?" "Wal--nothin' that counts your way. It's jest personal, 'tween him an' me." The other laughed cheerfully. "Couldn't be better," he exclaimed. "I'd sooner it depended on you than on the government." Seth let the tribute pass. "We must locate them Sun-dances," he said. "Yes. We've got troops enough to stop them." "Troops?--pshaw!" Seth rose. Parker understood his last remark. The presence of troops had long since been discussed between them. The visitor moved toward the door, and the Agent went to his desk. At the door Seth turned as some thought occurred to him. "Guess I'd not report anything yet. Not till the Sun-dances are located. I'll git around some." He slipped into his fur coat and turned up the storm collar. Parker nodded. "Keep a smart eye for yourself, Seth," he said. "Little Black Fox isn't likely to forget. Especially with Steyne around." Seth smiled faintly. "And Steyne 'll kind o' remember, sure." He passed out and left his sturdy friend wondering. "I'd give something to know," that individual said to himself, when the sound of horse's hoofs had died out. "Seth's dead against Steyne, and I'd like to bet it's over Rosebud." The object of the Agent's thoughts passed unconcernedly on his way. He branched off the ford trail intending to make for the bridge, below which his men were cutting the timbers for the corral. His way was remote from the chief encampment, and not a single Indian showed himself. The skeleton woods that lined the trail gave a desolate air to the bleak, white prospect. The whole of that northern world offered little promise to the traveler, little inducement to leave the warmth of house or tepee. As the horseman neared the bridge he paused to listen. Something of his attitude communicated itself to his horse. The animal's ears were laid back, and it seemed to be listening to some sound behind it. Whatever had attracted master and horse must have been very faint. A moment later Seth let the horse walk on and the animal appeared content. But if the animal were so, its master was not. He turned several times as he approached the bridge, and scanned the crowding branches on each side of the snow-covered trail behind him. Seth knew that he was followed. More, he knew that the watcher was clumsy, and had not the stealth of the Indian. At the bridge he faced about and sat waiting. The gravity of his face was relieved by a slight smile. Suddenly the crack of a rifle rang out. The horseman's smile died abruptly. His horse reared, pawing the air, and he saw blood on the beast's shoulder. He saw that the flesh had been ripped by a glancing bullet, and the course of the wound showed him whence the shot had come.