The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop

"But the dog?"

"Oh, he killed the dog to keep him from being traced. There isn't a thing in it, Major."

"I'm inclined to think you're right, but we must make careful investigation; the people are very censorious of my policy."

Next morning Crawling Elk brought word that no trace of the man could be found. "The grass is very dry," he explained, "and the trail is old. We discovered nothing except some horses' hoof-marks."

"Keep searching till every foot of land is covered," commanded Curtis. "Otherwise the white man will complain."

On Friday, just after the bell had called the people to resume work at one o'clock, Crow, the police captain, rode into the yard on a pony covered with ridges of dried sweat. His face was impassive, but his eyes glittered as he lifted his hand and signed:

"The white man's body is found!"

"Where?" asked Curtis from the door-way.

"On the high ground near the spring. He has three bullet-holes in him. Three cartridge-shells were found where the horses' hoof-marks were. The ones who shot dismounted there and fired over a little knoll. There are many white men over there now; they are very angry. They are coming here – "

"Be silent! Come in here!" Once within the office, Curtis drew from Crow Wing all he knew. He was just in the midst of giving his orders when Wilson opened the door and said, quietly, though his voice had a tremulous intensity:

"Major, step here a moment."

Curtis went to the door. He could not restrain a smile, even while a cold chill went to his heart. Nothing could exceed the suddenness of the change which had swept over the agency. As he had stood in the office door ten minutes before, his ears had been filled with the clink-clank of the blacksmiths' hammers, the shouts of drivers, and the low laughter of young women on their way to the store. Crane's Voice was hitching up his team, while Lost Legs and Turkey Tail were climbing to the roof of the warehouse with pots of red paint. Peter Wolf was mending a mowing-machine, and his brother Robert was cutting wood behind the agency kitchen. All about he had observed groups of white-blanketed Indians smoking cigarettes in the shade of the buildings, while a crowd of nearly twenty others stood watching a game of duck-on-the-rock before the agency store.

Now as he looked over the yards not a redman could be seen at his work. On every side the people, without apparent haste, but surely, steadily, and swiftly, were scattering. The anvil no longer cried out, the teamsters were silent, all laughter had ceased, the pots of paint sat scorching in the sun. There was something fiercely ominous as well as uncanny in this sudden, silent dispersion of a busy, merry throng, and Curtis, skilled in Indian signs, appreciated to the full the distrust of the white man here expressed. He understood this panic. The settlers had long threatened war. Now the pretext had come, and the sound of guns was about to begin.

"Wilson," said Curtis, calmly, "if the settlers fire a shot they will regret it. See Crane's Voice, if you can find him, and send him to me." He turned to Crow and signed: "Go tell your people I will not let the cowboys hurt them. Hurry! Call them all back. Tell them to go to work. I will call the soldiers, if necessary, to keep the white man away. There is no danger."

Crow was a brave and loyal man, and, weary as he was, hastened to carry out his orders. The call for "assembly" was rung on the signal-bell, and a few of the red employés responded. To them Curtis spoke reassuringly, but his words were belied by Thomas Big Voice, the official interpreter, who was so scared his knees shook.

Curtis sent Wilson to quiet the teachers and hurried immediately to the studio, where Elsie was at work painting a portrait of old Chief Black Bull. The old man sprang to his feet the instant he caught sight of his agent's face.

"Friend, what is the matter?" he asked.

To Elsie, Curtis said: "Do not be alarmed."

"There is no danger," he signed to Black Bull. "The white man's body has been found near the spring. He was shot by two men with horses. The white men are coming to see me about it, but there is no need of alarm. Tell your people to go quietly to their camps. I will protect them."

The old chief's face grew sterner as he flung his blanket over his arm. "I go to see," he said. "The white men are very angry."

"Wait!" called Curtis. "Keep your people quiet right where they are. You must help me. I depend on you. You must not alarm them."

"I will do as you command," Bull replied, as he went away, but it was plain he apprehended violence.

"What is the matter?" inquired Elsie.

"The settlers have discovered the body of the herder who was killed, and Crow brings word they are angry. I don't think there is any danger, but I wish you and Jennie were at the fort for a few days. I don't like to have you disturbed by these things."

It was their first meeting alone since their return from the camping-trip, but Elsie was too much concerned with the serious expression of his face to feel any embarrassment.

"You don't think there will be trouble?"

"No, only a distracting wrangle, which may prevent your getting models. The Indians are nervous, and are even now getting out for the hills. But I hope you will not be alarmed."

"I'm not a nervous person."

"I know you're not – that is the reason I dared to come and tell you what was going on. I deeply regret – "

Wilson rapped on the door. "Major, you are needed. Bow-legs reports two bodies of armed men riding up the valley; the dust of their horses' hoofs can be seen. There are at least twenty men in the two squads," Wilson continued; "one came across from the West Fork, the other came from the south. It looks like a prearranged invasion."

"Very well, Wilson, I'll be at the office in time to meet them."

Curtis turned on Elsie a look which went to her heart. His voice was low as he said: "Let me take you over to Jennie. I presume these men are coming to make a demand on me for the murderers. They may or may not know who the guilty ones are, but their coming in force by prearrangement has alarmed the people."

As she laid down her brushes and took up her hat she said, gleefully: "Father won't be able to ask me what I know about war – will he? Will they begin shooting at once?"

"I don't think they are likely to do anything as a body, but some reckless cowboy may do violence to some Tetong, which will rouse the tribe to retaliation. The settlers have too much sense to incite an outbreak." At the door he said: "I wish you would go to Jennie. Tell her not to get excited. I will let you know what it is all about as soon as I find out myself. It may be all a mistake."

As he was crossing the road Lawson joined him, and when they reached the gate before the office, several of the invaders had dismounted and were waiting the agent's coming. There were eleven of them; all were deeply excited, and two or three of the younger men were observably drunk and reckless. Streeter, stepping forward, introduced a short, sullen-faced man as "Sheriff Winters, of Pinon County."

"What name?" said Curtis, as he shook hands pleasantly.

"Sheriff Winters," repeated Streeter.

"What is the meaning of all this?" queried Curtis.

"We have come for the man that killed Ed Cole. We are a committee appointed by a convention of three hundred citizens who are holding an inquest over the body," said Winters. "We have come for the murderer."

"Do you know who committed the murder?"

"No, but we know it was an Injun."

"How do you know it?" They hesitated. "Do you come as an officer of the law? Have you a warrant?"

"No, I have not, but we are determined – "

"Then I deny your right to be here. Your coming is an armed invasion of federal territory," said Curtis, and his voice rang like steel.

"Here comes the other fellers," called some one in the crowd. Turning his head, Curtis saw another squad of men filing down over the hill from the north. He counted them and made out fifteen. Turning sharply to the sheriff, he asked: "Who are those men?"

"I don't know."

"Are you responsible for their coming?"

"No, sir, I am not!" the sheriff replied, plainly on the defence.

As the second squad came galloping up, the sheriff's party greeted them with nods and low words. Curtis heard one man ask: "Where's Charley? I thought he was coming," and became perfectly certain that this meeting had been prearranged. The new-comers mingled with the sheriff's party quite indistinguishably and made no further explanation of their presence.

The young officer burned hot with indignation. "Sheriff Winters, order these men to retire at once. They have no business here!"

A mutter of rage ran over the mob and several hands dropped ostentatiously upon pistols.

One loud-voiced young whelp called out an insulting word. "You go to – ! We'll retire when we get an Injun, not before!"

"Shut up, you fool!" called the sheriff, and, turning to Jenks, began to mutter in consultation. Curtis advanced a step, and raising his voice addressed the entire mob.

"As commander of this reservation, I order you to withdraw. Your presence here is unlawful and menacing. Retire to the boundary of the reservation, and I will use every effort to discover the murderer. If he is in the tribe I will find him and deliver him to the county authorities."

At this one of the same young ruffians who had challenged him before spurred his horse close to Curtis, and with his pistol in his hand shouted: "Not by a d – sight. We come to take it out o' these thieves, and we're goin' to do it. Go ahead, Winters – say the word and well clean out the whole tribe."

Curtis looked the youth in the eye. "My boy, I advise you to make war slowly, even with your mouth."

Calvin Streeter, with his teeth clinched, crowded his horse forward and struck the insolent hoodlum in the face with his hat. "Shut up, or I'll pinch your neck off! Think you're sheriff?" The belligerent retired, snarling wild curses.

Curtis addressed himself again to Winters, assuming a tone of respect and confidence which he did not feel. "Mr. Winters, you are here as a representative of the courts of Pinon County. I call upon you, as sheriff, to disperse all these men, who are here without warrant of law!"

The sheriff hesitated, for the cattlemen were now furious and eager to display their valor. Many of them were of the roughest types of cowboys, the profane and reckless renegades of older communities, and being burdened with ammunition, and foolhardy with drink, they were in no mood to turn tail and ride away. They savagely blustered, flourishing their revolvers recklessly.

The sheriff attempted to silence them, and said, petulantly, to Curtis: "If I hadn't come you'd 'a' had a mob of two hundred armed men instead of twenty. I had hard work to keep 'em back. I swore in these ten men as my deputies. This second crowd I don't know anything about. They just happen to be here."

Curtis knew this to be a lie, but proceeded to cajole the sheriff by recognizing him and his authority.

"In that case I shall act." Addressing the leader of the second party, he said: "Sheriff Winters is the legal representative of the county; you are an unlawful mob, and I once more command you to leave the reservation, which is federal territory, under my command."

"No, you don't! We stay right here!" shouted several.

"We'll see whether the people of this State have any rights or not," said Jenks, deeply excited. "We won't allow you to shield your murdering redskins under such a plea; we'll be judge and jury in this case."

Curtis turned sharply to the sheriff: "Officer, do your duty! Dispose of this mob!" His tone was magnificently commanding. "I shall hold you responsible for further trouble," said Curtis, turning a long look on Winters, which stung.

The sheriff angrily addressed the crowd. "Get out o' this, boys. You're twisting me all up and doing no good. Vamoose now! I've got all the help I need. I'm just as much obliged, but you'd better clear out." Then to his deputies, "Round 'em up, boys, and send 'em away."

Calvin's face wore a smile of wicked glee as he called out:

"Now you fellers git!" and spurring his horse into their midst he hustled them. "Hunt your holes! You're more bother than you are worth. Git out o' here!"

While the sheriff and his deputies alternately pleaded and commanded the mob to withdraw, Lawson touched Curtis on the arm and pointed to the crests of the hills to the west. On every smooth peak a mounted sentinel stood, silent and motionless as a figure on a monument – watching the struggle going on before the agency gate.

"Behind every hill young warriors are riding," said Lawson. "By sundown every man and boy will be armed and ready for battle. If these noble citizens knew what you have saved them from they would bless you."

The mob of cattlemen retreated slowly, with many fierce oaths and a jangle of loud debate which Curtis feared each moment might break into a crackle of pistol shots.

"That was a good stroke," said Lawson. "It sets up division, and so weakens them. You will be able to handle the sheriff now."

XX

FEMININE STRATEGY

Having seen the horsemen ride away, Jennie and Elsie came across the road tense with excitement.

"Tell us all about it? Have they gone?"

"Who are they?"

"We hope they are gone," Curtis replied, as lightly as he could. "It was the sheriff of Pinon County and a lynching party. I have persuaded one mob to drive away the other. They were less dangerous than they seemed."

"See those heads!" exclaimed Lawson, pointing out several employés who were peering cautiously over roofs and around corners. "Not one has retained his hat," he added. "If the danger sharpens, off will come their shirts and trousers, and those belligerent white men will find themselves contending with six hundred of the best fighters in the world."

"We must temporize," said Curtis. "A single shot now would be disaster." He checked himself there, but Lawson understood as well as he the situation.

Jennie was not yet satisfied. "Has the sheriff come for some one in particular?"

"No, he has no warrant, hasn't even a clew to the murder. He is really at the lead of a lynching party himself, and has no more right to be here than the men he is driving away."

"What ought he to do?" asked Elsie.

"He should go home. It is my business as agent to make the arrest. I have only a half-dozen police, and I dare not attempt to force him and his party to leave the reservation."

"The whole situation is this," explained Lawson. "They've made this inquest the occasion for bringing all the hot-headed fools of the country together, and this is a bluff which they think will intimidate the Indians."

"They wouldn't dare to begin shooting, would they?" asked Elsie.

"You can't tell what such civilized persons will do," said Lawson. "But Curtis has the sheriff thinking, and the worst of it is over."

"Here they come again!" exclaimed Wilson, who surprised Curtis by remaining cool and watchful through this first mutiny.

At a swift gallop the sheriff and his posse came whirling back up the road – a wild and warlike squad – hardly more tractable than the redoubtables they had rounded up and thrown down the valley.

"I think you had better go in," said Curtis to Elsie. "Jennie, take her back to the house for a little while."

"No, let us stay," cried Elsie. "I want to see this sheriff myself. If we hear the talk we'll be less nervous."

Curtis was firm. "This is no place for you. These cowboys have no respect for God, man, or devil; please go in."

Jennie started to obey, but Elsie obstinately held her ground.

"I will not! I have the right to know what is threatening me! I always hated to go below in a storm."

In a cloud of dust – with snorting of excited horses, the posse, with the sheriff at its head, again pulled up at the gate. The young men stared at the two daintily dressed girls with eyes of stupefaction. Here was an unlooked-for complication. A new element had entered the controversy. The sheriff slid from his horse and gave a rude salute with his big brown fist.

"Howdy, ladies, howdy." It was plain he was deeply embarrassed by this turn of affairs.

Elsie seized Curtis by the arm and whispered: "Introduce me to him – quick! Tell him who I am."

Curtis instantly apprehended her plan. "Sheriff Winters, this is Miss Brisbane, daughter of ex-Senator Brisbane, of Washington."

The sheriff awkwardly seized her small hand, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss," he said. "I know the Senator well."

Curtis turned to Jennie, who came forward – "And this is my sister."

"I've heard of you," the sheriff said, regaining his self-possession. "I'm sorry to disturb you, ladies – "

Elsie looked at him and quietly said: "I hope you will not be hasty, sheriff; my father will not sanction violence."

"You're being here makes a difference, miss – of course – I – "

Jennie spoke up: "You must be hungry, Mr. Sheriff," she said, and smiling up at Calvin, added, "and so are your men. Why not picket your horses and have some lunch with us?"

Curtis took advantage of the hesitation. "That's the reasonable thing, men. We can discuss measures at our ease."

The cowboys looked at each other with significant glances. Several began to dust themselves and to slyly swab their faces with their gay kerchiefs, and one or two became noticeably redder about the ears as they looked down at their horses' bridles.

Calvin broke the silence. "I don't let this chance slip, boys. I'm powerful keen, myself."

"So'm I," echoed several others.

The sheriff coughed. "Well – really – I'm agreeable, but I'm afeerd it'll be a powerful sight o' trouble, miss."

"Oh no, let us attend to that," cried Jennie. "We shall expect you in fifteen minutes," and taking Elsie by the arm, she started across the road.

As the cowboys followed the graceful retreating figures of the girls, Lawson and Curtis looked at each other with eyes of amazement; Lawson acknowledged a mighty impulse to laugh. "How unmilitary," he muttered.

"But how effective," replied Curtis, his lips twitching.

The cowboys muttered among themselves. "Say, is this a dream?"

"Who said pork-and-beans?"

"Does my necktie kiver my collar-button?" asked a third.

"Come, boys!" called Curtis, cheerily. "While the sheriff and I have a little set-to, you water your ponies and dust off, and be ready for cold potatoes. You're a little late for a square meal, but I think we can ease your pangs."

With a patter of jocose remarks the cowboys rode off down towards the creek, taking the sheriff's horse along with them.

Curtis turned to Lawson. "I wish you'd bring that code over to the house, Lawson. I want to show that special clause to the sheriff."

Turning to Winters, he said: "Come, let's go across to my library and talk our differences over in comfort."

The sheriff dusted his trousers with the broad of his hand. "Well, now, I'm in no condition to sit down with ladies."

"I'll give you a chance to clean up," replied Curtis, who plainly saw that the girls had the rough bordermen "on the ice and going," as Calvin would say. A man can brag and swear and bluster out of doors, or in a bare, tobacco-stained office; but in a library, surrounded by books, in the hearing of ladies, he is more human – more reasonable. Jennie's invitation had turned impending defeat to victory.

Curtis took Winters into his own bedroom and put its toilet articles at his service and left him. As the sheriff came out into the Captain's library five minutes later, it was plain he had washed away a large part of his ferocity; his hair, plastered down smooth, represented the change in his mental condition – his quills were laid. He was, in fact, fairly meek.

Curtis confidentially remarked, in a low voice: "You see, sheriff, we must manage this thing quietly. We mustn't endanger these women, and especially Miss Brisbane. If the old Senator gets a notion his daughter is in danger – "

Winters blew a whiff. "Great God, he'd tear the State wide open! No, the boys were too hasty. As I say, I saw the irregularity, but if I hadn't consented to lead a posse in here that whole inquest would have come a-rampin' down on ye. I said to 'em, 'Boys,' I says, 'you can't do that kind of thing,' I says. 'These Tetongs are fighters,' I says, 'and you'll have a sweet time chasin' 'em over the hills – just go slow and learn to peddle,' I says – "

Lawson, entering with the code, cut him short in his shameless exculpation, and Curtis said, suavely: "Mr. Winters, I think you know Mr. Lawson."

"We've crossed each other's trail once or twice, I believe," said Lawson. "Here is the clause."

Curtis laid the book before the sheriff, who pushed a stubby forefinger against the letters and read the paragraph laboriously. His thick wits were moved by it, and he said: "Seems a clear case, and yet the reservation is included in the lines of Pinon County. 'Pears like the county'd ought 'o have some rights."

"Well, here comes the posse," said Curtis; "we'll talk it all over with them after lunch. Come in, boys!" he called cheerily to the straggling herders, who came in sheepishly, one by one, their spurs rattling, their big, limp hats twisted in their hands. They had pounded the alkali from each other's shirt, and their red faces shone with the determined rubbing they had received. All the wild grace of their horsemanship was gone, and as they sidled in and squatted down along the wall they were anything but ferocious in manner or speech.

"Ah, now, this is all right," each man said, when Curtis offered chairs. "You take the chair, Jim; you take it, Joe – this suits me."

Lawson was interested in their cranial development, and their alignment along the wall gave a fine opportunity for comparison. "They were, for the most part, shapeless and of small capacity," he said afterwards – "just country bumpkins, trained to the horse and the revolver, but each of them arrogated to himself the judicial mind of the Almighty Creator."

The sheriff, leaning far back in the big Morris chair, wore a smirking smile which seemed to say: "Boys, I'm onto this luxury all right. Stuffed chair don't get me no back-ache. Nothing's too rich for my blood – if I can get it."

The young fellows were transfixed with awe of Calvin, for, though the last to enter the house, he walked calmly past the library door on into the dining-room, and a moment later could be heard chatting with the girls, "sassy as a whiskey-jack."

One big, freckled young fellow nudged his neighbor and said: "Wouldn't that pull your teeth? That wall-eyed sorrel has waltzed right into the kitchen to buzz the women. Say, his neck needs shortening."

"Does he stand in, or is it just gall?"

"It's nerve – nothing else. We ain't onto our job, that's all."

"Oh, he knows 'em all right. I heered he stands in with the agent's sister."

"The hell he does! Lookin' that way? Well, I don't think. It's his brass-bound cheek. Wait till we ketch him alone."

Cal appeared at the door. "Well, fellers, come in; grub's all spread out."

"What you got to say about it?" asked Green.

"Think you're the nigger that rings the bell, don't ye?" remarked Galvin. "We're waitin' for the boss to say 'when.'"

Not one of them stirred till Curtis rose, saying to the sheriff, "Well, we'll take time later to discuss that; come right out and tame the wolf."

The fact that Curtis accepted Calvin's call impressed the crowd deeply.

"You'd think he was one o' the fambly," muttered Galvin. "Wait till we get a rope 'round his neck."

The table, looking cool and dainty in its fleckless linen, was set with plates of cold chicken and ham, with pots of jelly and white bread at each end of the cloth, beside big pitchers of cool milk. To the cowboys, accustomed only to their rude camps and the crude housekeeping of the settlers round about, this dainty cleanliness of dining-room was marvellously subduing. They shuffled into their seats noisily, with only swift, animal-like glances at the girls, who were bubbling over with the excitement of feeding this band of Cossacks.

As they drank their milk and fed great slices of bread and jelly into their mouths, fighting Indians seemed less necessary than they had supposed. Whiskey and alkali dust, and the smell of sweating ponies, were all forgotten in the quiet and sweetness of this pretty home. The soft answer had turned wrath into shamefaced wonder and awkward courtesy.