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Rh Ferguson, who met with an accident. Please have a room ready for him. Constable Rolfe is with me. We should reach Kynox at the end of this week. I am sending this note by Joe Dart, who is going to town to record a claim.

“Hoping to see you soon,

That was all the letter contained in mere words, yet to Marion it meant a great deal more. She saw the writer, the strong, manly sergeant, who had made such a deep impression upon her. She recalled the last time he had been at Kynox when he had brought in a sick miner from an outlying creek. She had heard much about John North, the great trailsman and the fearless defender of law and order. Many were the tales told of his prowess to which Marion always listened with keen interest and a quickening of the heart. To her he was the very embodiment of the ideal hero, and one with King Arthur’s Knights of the Table Round. He was ever moving from place to place, bringing relief to the afflicted and redressing human wrongs. What a difference between this man and many of the men she had met. He was not in the country for gain, but in the noble service of his King and country. Her mind suddenly turned to the strange, long-bearded man asleep on the kitchen floor. What a contrast between him and John North. Who was he? she wondered, and where had he found the child? She thought, too, of his oddity in wearing his cap all the time. Was there some reason for this? Did it cover some scar or other disfigurement?