I never was in the old country, but young mavericks aren't the only stock to go missing in Alberta, which isn't a long way off.

The boys there have their hands full now and then, and we have three or four of the worst toughs I've struck right in Sage Butte." Grant leaned forward on the table, looking steadily at him.
"Hadn't you better tell me what you have in your mind ?" "I can't give you much information, but we got a hint from Regina to keep our eyes open, and from things I've heard it's my idea that now that the boys have nearly stopped the running of Alberta cattle across the frontier, some of the toughs they couldn't track mean to start the same game farther east.

Some of you ranchers run stock outside the fences, and I guess one could still find a lonely trail to the American border." "Well," said Grant, "I'm glad you told me." He turned to George.

"Be careful, Lansing; you would be an easier mark." They strolled outside; and after a while George joined Flora, and sauntered away across the grass with her.

It was a clear, still evening, and the air was wonderfully fresh.
"Though he wouldn't let me thank him, I feel I'm seriously indebted to your father, Miss Grant," he said.