A blizzard came on and
we feared we had lost them. We fell in with a band of Stony Indians,
found that the band had been robbed and two of their number murdered."
"Two murdered?" The Commissioner's voice was stern.
"Yes, Sir. Shot down in cold blood. We have the testimony of an eye
witness. We followed the trail and came upon two of them. My horse was
shot. One of them escaped; this man we captured."
The Commissioner sat pondering. Then with disconcerting swiftness he
turned upon the prisoner.
"Your name?"
"Cameron, Sir."
"Where from?"
"I was working in McIvor's survey camp near Morleyville. I went out
shooting, lost my way in a blizzard, was captured by a man who called
himself Raven--"
"Wait!" said the Commissioner sharply. "Bring me that file!"
The orderly brought a file from which the Commissioner selected a
letter. His keen eyes rapidly scanned the contents and then ran over the
prisoner from head to foot. Thereupon, without a moment's hesitation, he
said curtly:
"Release the prisoner!"
"But, Sir--" began Sergeant Crisp, with an expression of utter
bewilderment and disgust upon his face.
"Release the prisoner!" repeated the Commissioner sharply. "Mr. Cameron,
I deeply regret this mistake. Under the circumstances it could hardly
have been avoided.
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