Edgar looked at his comrade reproachfully.
"If you could only have sprinted a little and kept ahead, we would either have outflanked them or have had the finest imaginable ride with every chance of running the fellows down. As things turned out, I couldn't go off with the troopers until I found that you had got through unhurt."
"I'm sorry," George told him, with a little dry laugh. "But I don't think I spared any effort during the last quarter of a mile."
Then he related his adventures, and answered a number of questions.
"You'll take my horse," said Flett, "and start for the railroad as soon as you feel able. Get on to Regina by the first train; judging by the last wire I got, you'll still be in time. West had better go with you to the station, and he can send a wagon for the man who's hurt. Now I guess we'll get you something to eat."
"I shouldn't mind," said George. "It's twenty-four hours since my last meal, and that one was remarkably small."
He drank a canful of cold tea, and then went suddenly to sleep while the others lighted the fire.
CHAPTER XXXI
THE REACTION
The trial at Regina proved sensational. Crimes attended with violence were not unknown in the vicinity, and cattle were now and then stolen in the neighboring province of Alberta; but that such things as the prosecutor's tale revealed should happen aroused wide-spread astonishment and virtuous indignation. Nevertheless, they were proved, for Flett had procured a number of witnesses and, what was more, had secured their attendance.