“No!” defiantly, her cheeks red.

“Nor of what has become of Connors, or your ranch manager?”

She shrugged her shoulders, endeavoring to smile.

“The parties mentioned are of very small interest to me.”

“And Major McDonald,” he insisted, utterly ignoring the increasing anger of the officer beside her.  “Possibly you were aware of his departure?”

“Yes,” more deliberately; “he told me of his orders, and bade me good-bye later.  So far as Connors is concerned, he was to have the carriage here for us at two o’clock.  Is that all, Mr. Sergeant Hamlin?"’

“You better make it all,” threatened the Captain belligerently, “before I lose my temper at this infernal impertinence.”

Hamlin surveyed the two calmly, confident that the woman knew more than she would tell, and utterly indifferent as to the other.

“Very well,” he said quietly, “I will learn what I desire elsewhere.  I shall find Miss McDonald, and discover what has actually occurred.”

“My best wishes, I am sure,” and the lady patted the Captain’s arm gently.  “We are losing this waltz.”

There was but one course for Hamlin to pursue.  He had no trail to follow, only a vague suspicion that these plotters were in some way concerned in the mysterious disappearance.  Thus far, however, they had left behind no clue to their participation.  Moreover he was seriously handicapped by ignorance of any motive.  Why should they desire to gain possession of the girl?  It could not be money, or the hope of ransom.  What then?  Was it some accident which had involved her in the toils prepared for another?  If so, were those unexpected orders for Major McDonald a part of the conspiracy, or had their receipt complicated the affair?  The Sergeant was a soldier, not a detective, and could only follow a straight road in his investigation.  He must circle widely until he found some trail to follow as patiently as an Indian.  There would be tracks left somewhere, if he could only discover them.  If this was a hasty occurrence, in any way an accident, something was sure to be left uncovered, some slip reveal the method.  He would trace the movements of the father first, and then search the saloons and gambling dens for the two men.  Though unsuccessful with Mrs. Dupont, he knew how to deal with such as they.

The stage agent was routed out of bed and came to the door, revolver in hand, startled and angry.

“Who?” he repeated.  “Major McDonald?  How the hell should I know?  Some officer went out—­yes; heavy set man with a mustache.  I did n’t pay any attention to him; had government transportation.  There were two other passengers, both men, ranchers, I reckon; none in the station at all.  What’s that, Jane?”

A woman’s voice spoke from out the darkness behind.

“Was the soldier asking if Major McDonald went East on the coach, Sam?”