It proved to be a moving tale of weary rides in scorching heat and in the dusk of night, of rebuffs and daunting failures.  Flett, as he admitted, had several times been cleverly misled and had done some unwise things, but he had never lost his patience nor relaxed his efforts.  Slowly and doggedly, picking up scraps of information where he could, he had trailed his men to the frontier, where his real troubles had begun.  Once that he crossed it, he had no authority, and the American sheriffs and deputies were not invariably sympathetic.  Some, he concluded, were unduly influenced by local opinion, which was not in favor of interfering with people who confined their depredations to Canadian horses.  Others, who acknowledged past favors from Regina, foresaw troublesome complications before he could be allowed to deport the offenders; but some, with a strong sense of duty, offered willing help, and that was how he had been able to make the arrests on Canadian soil.

“Now,” he concluded, “we tracked these men from point to point and I’ve evidence to prove most of their moves, but they never had the four horses in a bunch until they made Montana, which is a point against us.  We can show they were working as a gang, that they were altogether with the horses on American soil, but as we haven’t corralled the only man Mr. Grant could swear to, there’s only one way of proving how they got them.  You see where all this leads?”

“It looks as if you depended on my evidence for a conviction,” said George.

Flett nodded.

“You saw Mr. Grant attacked and the horses run off.  You can identify one man, and we’ll connect him with the rest.”

He took out a paper and handed it to George.

“It’s my duty to serve you with this; and now that it’s done, I’ll warn you to watch out until after the trial.  If we can convict these fellows, we smash the crowd, but we’d be helpless without you.”

George opened the document and found it a formal summons to attend the court at Regina on a date specified.  Then he produced another paper and gave it to Flett with a smile.

“The opposition seem to recognize my importance, and they move more quickly than the police.”

The trooper took the letter, which was typed and bore no date or name of place.

“‘Keep off this trial and you’ll have no more trouble,’” he read aloud.  “’Back up the police and you’ll be sorry.  If you mean to drop them, drive over to the Butte, Thursday, and get supper at the Queen’s.’”

“Yesterday was Thursday, and I didn’t go,” George said after a moment’s silence.

The quiet intimation was not a surprise to any of them, and Flett nodded as he examined the letter.

“Not much of a clue,” he remarked.  “Toronto paper that’s sold at every store; mailed two stations down the line.  Nobody would have met you at the Queen’s, but most anybody in town would know if you had been there.  Anyway, I’ll take this along.”  He rose.  “I can’t stop, but I want to say we’re not afraid of your backing down.”