Part 17

"They said that the sentinels on the hills saw the white men break camp and come this way--many of them--so they say."

"Where are they now?"

"They are hidden in the pines of the valley. They will soon be here--so they say."

"Take a fresh pony and ride back and tell all who have children here to come down and talk with me. Tell them I will turn the white men away. No one shall be harmed. The children are safe. There will be no war. I will meet them in the old camp. I keep repeating there is no danger because I believe it," he said to the silent group around him, after Wolf Robe rode away. "There is nothing to be done but wait. So go about your duties," he added, with a note of command.

One by one the employes dropped away till only Wilson remained. His only sign of nervousness was a quiver of the muscles of one cheek, where he held his quid of tobacco. His bright blue eyes were fixed on the sentinels, while he leaned negligently against the fence. Lawson, smoking a German pipe, was watching the warriors on the hills, a rapt expression on his face, as if he were working out some problem in ethics which demanded complete concentration and absorption of thought. The two girls had drawn close together as if for comfort, their nerves a-quiver with the strain.

"Are you waiting for something to go off?" suddenly asked Curtis.

Each one started a little, and all laughed together.

"I think I was," confessed Elsie.

"You seemed to be holding your breath. I wish you'd both go in and rest," he pleaded. "It is no use--"

"They're coming!" interrupted Lawson.

"Where? Where?"

"The sentinels are signalling again."

All turned to the east, but nothing could be seen--no smoke, no dust, no sign of horsemen--yet the swift circling of the sentinels and the turmoil among the warriors on the butte indicated the menace of an approaching army. Another little band detached itself from the huddle of the camp and came down the hill, slowly and in single file.

"The squaws are coming for their children, even before Wolf Robe reaches them," said Lawson.

"And there's the mob!" said Curtis, and at his words a keen thrill of fear ran through the hearts of the women. With set, pale faces they looked away beneath levelled finger.

"That's right," said Wilson, "and two hundred strong."

The sad-colored horsemen were pouring over a high, pine-clad ridge some two miles to the east, and streaming down into a narrow valley behind a sharp intervening butte.

"Now, girls, you _must_ go in!" commanded Curtis, sharply. "You can do no good--"

"George, let us stay!" pleaded Jennie. "We saved you yesterday, and we may help to-day."

"What is the use of shutting us in the house? I'm not afraid," added Elsie. "These men will do us no harm."

"I beg you will not interfere," he said, looking at Jennie, but Elsie knew he included her as well. "It isn't a bit impressive to have an agent flanked with women--in a council of war."

"Hang the looks! they're mighty effective sometimes," remarked Lawson.

"That's right!" chimed in Wilson. "By the Lord! they look sassy," he added, referring back to the cowboys.

They formed a sinister cavalcade as they came streaming down the rough road, two and two, like a monstrous swift serpent, parti-colored, sinuous, silent, save for the muffled clatter of their horses' hoofs. Curtis nerved himself for the shock, and, though weakened and embarrassed by the presence of Elsie and Jennie, he presented a soldierly breast to the mob. Had it been a question of protecting the women, the case would have been different, but to argue a point of law with them at his elbow exposed him to ridicule and to interruption.

As the horsemen debouched upon the valley road, a prodigious cloud of dust arose and sailed away on the wind, completely hiding the rear ranks so that they could not be numbered. As they drew near, the sheriff could be seen riding at the head of the column side by side with a big man in a blue shirt. They approached at a shacking trot, which was more menacing than a gallop would have been--it was steady, inexorable, self-contained as a charge of cavalry.

As they reached the issue-house, Curtis opened the gate and stepped out into the road and faced them alone, and Elsie grew cold with fear as the sheriff and his formidable following rode steadily up. When almost upon the agent the leader turned, and, pushing his limp hat away from his eyes, shouted:

"_Halt!_" As the men pulled in their horses he added, "Keep back there!"

The mob had found a leader, and was organized for violence. Curtis, with folded arms, seemed small and weak as the army of invasion came to a stand, filling the lane between the office and the agency house with trampling horses and cursing men.

"Good-morning," growled the leader, surlily. "We're come for old Elk, and I want to say we get him this time. No monkey business goes with old Bill Yarpe. Women can't fool me."

Calvin Streeter rode out of the throng and pushed his way to the front.

Yarpe yelled: "H'yar! Keep in line there!"

"Go to hell!" replied Calvin, as he rode past him. "I'm no nigger. I want to hear what goes on, and I tell ye right now you treat these people fair or you'll hear from me."

"I'll shoot you up a few if you ain't keerful, young feller," replied the old ruffian.

"That's right, General, he's too fresh," called some one.

Calvin spurred his horse alongside Yarpe's and looked him in the eye with a glare which made the older man wince. "You be decent before these women or I'll cut the heart out o' ye. You hear me!"

Curtis stepped forward. "Careful, Streeter--don't provoke trouble; we'll protect the women."

The sheriff rode between the two men. "Cal, git away--you're my deputy, remember."

As Cal reined his horse away, Curtis went to him and said, in a low voice: "I appreciate your chivalry, Calvin, but be careful; don't excite them."

As he looked into the big, red, whiskey-bloated face of Yarpe, Curtis was frankly dismayed. The old ruffian was not only inflamed with liquor, he was intoxicated with a subtler elixir--the pride of command. As he looked back over his followers he visibly expanded and a savage glare lit up his eyes. "Keep quiet, boys; I'll settle this thing."

Curtis again stepped towards the sheriff. "What do you propose to do, Mr. Sheriff?"

Yarpe broke in boisterously. "We want old Elk. Bring him out or we go after him." A chorus of applause followed.

"On what authority do you make this demand?" asked Curtis, facing Yarpe.

"On the authority of the sheriff of Pinon City," replied Yarpe, "and we come along to see he does his duty."

"The sheriff is present and can speak for himself. He was my guest last night and made an agreement with me, which, as an honorable man, he is disposed to keep."

The sheriff avoided Curtis's eye, but Yarpe replied:

"He showed the white feather. He let you fool him, but you can't fool this crowd. Bring on your Injun, or we go get him."

"Have you a warrant?"

"Oh, damn the warrant!"

The sheriff cleared his throat. "Yes, I have a warrant for Crawling Elk and Grayman," he said, and began searching his pockets. The decisive moment had arrived.

XXIV

THE GRAY-HORSE TROOP

Curtis minutely studied the crowd, which was made up very largely of reckless young men--cowboys from all over the range, together with the loafers and gamblers of the cow-towns. The sheriff's deputies were all well to the front, but were quiet; they seemed to be a little abashed by the gaze of the women to whom they were indebted for their dinner of yesterday. Each member of the gang was burdened with ammunition and carried both rifle and revolver.

The sheriff dismounted and handed a paper to Curtis, who took plenty of time to read it. It was manifestly bogus, manufactured for use as a bluff, and had not been properly sworn out; but to dispute it would be to anger the cattlemen. There was only one chance for delay.

"Very well," he said, at last. "This warrant calls for two of the head men among the Tetongs. Of course, I understand your motives. You do not intend to charge these chiefs with the crime, you only wish to force the tribe to yield some one else to your vengeance. In face of such a force as this of yours, Mr. Sheriff, I can only yield, though I deny your right to lay hand on one of my charges. I do all this under pressure. If your men will retire a little I will call a messenger and communicate with the chiefs named, and ask--"

Yarpe glared. "Communicate hell! Sheriff, say the word and we'll go and get 'em."

Curtis fixed a calm gaze upon him. "You are a brave man, Mr. Yarpe, but you'll need all your resolution when you charge up that hill in the face of those desperate warriors." As he swept his arm out towards the west all eyes were turned on the swarming mass of mounted Tetongs. The women had moved higher, and were halted just on the eastern brow of the high ridge, behind and to the right of the fighting men. "Now what will you do, Mr. Sheriff?" pursued Curtis; "act with me through the head men, or make your demand of the whole tribe?"

A dispute arose among the crowd. A few shouted, noisily, "Say the word and we'll sweep the greasy devils off the earth." But the larger number, like the sheriff's posse of the day before, found it not easy to overawe this quiet soldier.

Calvin harangued the leader. "No, I will not button my lip," he shouted again, confronting Yarpe, "for you nor no other man. You let the sheriff and the Captain fix this thing up. What are you in this thing for, anyhow? You don't own a foot of land nor a head o' stock. You're nothing but a bum! You can't get trusted for a pound of tobacco. Nice man to lead a mob--"

"Shut him up, Bill," shouted one fellow.

"Cal's right," called another.

"Don't let 'em fool ye, Bill; we come fer a redskin, and we'll have him or burn the town."

Calvin had a revolver in each hand, and on his face was a look that meant war.

Curtis called to Lawson. "Take the women in, quick!" He feared shooting among the leaders of the mob. "Don't shoot, Calvin. Keep the peace."

With tears of impotent rage filling her eyes, Elsie retreated towards the office under Lawson's care. Curtis stepped to the side of the leader. "Silence your gang," he said.

Yarpe raised his bellowing voice. "Keep quiet, there! I'll settle this thing in a minute."

"Keep back!" commanded the sheriff.

The crowd fell back a little, with Calvin crowding them hard, revolver in hand. "No more funny business with me," he said, and death blazed from his eyes. "Get back!"

Quiet having been restored, the sheriff, Curtis, and Yarpe were revealed in animated argument. Curtis was talking against time--every moment was precious.

"If you give in, your chances for re-election ain't worth a leatherette," Yarpe said to the sheriff.

"You crazy fool! You wouldn't charge that hill?" asked the sheriff.

"That's what I would, and that's what the boys come for."

"But what good would it do?"

"It would learn these red devils a lesson they wouldn't forget, and it would make you an' me the most popular men in the county. If you don't do it, you're dead as the hinges of hell."

"If you charge that hill, some of you will stay there," put in Curtis.

Yarpe turned and roared: "Boys, the sheriff has weakened. Will you follow me?"

"We will!" shouted the reckless majority.

At this precise moment, while looking over the sheriff's head towards the pinon-spotted hill to the west, Curtis caught the gleam of something white bobbing down the hill. It disappeared, but came into sight lower down, a white globe based in a splash of blue. It was a white helmet, topping the uniform of a cavalry officer. A sudden emotion seized Curtis by the throat--his heart warmed, swelled big in his bosom. Oh, the good old color! Now he could see the gauntleted gloves, the broad shoulders, the easy seat of blessed old Jack Maynard as he ambled peacefully across the flat.

"Look there!" he cried, turning to the group inside the gate, his finger pointing like a pistol. His voice rang out joyous as a morning bugle, and the girls thrilled with joy.

Yarpe looked. "Hell! The cavalry! We're euchred--clean."

Over the hill behind the officer appeared a squadron of gray horse, marching in single file, winding down the trail like a long serpent, spotted with blue and buff, the sun sparkling fitfully from their polished brass and steel. When Curtis turned to the sheriff his face was pale with excitement for the first time, quivering, exultant. "You'll have the federal troops to deal with now," he said. "At last we are on equal terms."

A deep silence fell on the mob. Every ruffian of them seemed suddenly frozen into immobility, and each sat with head turned and eyes wide-staring, watching the coming of the blue-shirted horsemen.

As the officer approached he was distinguishable as a powerful, smooth-faced young man in a captain's uniform. As his eyes rested on Curtis his plump, red face broke into a broad smile. It was plain that he was Irish, and not averse to a bit of a shindy.

Riding straight up to the agent, he formally saluted, and in a deep, dry, military voice, said:

"Colonel Daggett presents his compliments to Captain Curtis and tenders Squadron B, at your service. Captain Maynard in command."

With equally impersonal decorum Curtis acknowledged the courtesy.

"Captain Curtis returns the compliment, and thanks Captain Maynard for his prompt and most opportune arrival--Jack, I'm mighty glad to see you."

Maynard dismounted and they shook hands. "Same to you, old man. What's all the row?"

A clear, distant, boyish voice cried, "By columns of four into line!" and the bugle, breaking voice, caused the hair of the agent's head to stand; turning, he saw the squadron taking form as it crossed the stream. It required his most heroic effort to keep the tears from his eyes as his ear heard the dull rattle of scabbards and he watched the splendid play of the gray horses' legs and broad chests as they came on, weary but full of spirit yet. There was something inexorable in their advance. In their order, their clean glitter, their impersonal grace, was expressed the power of the general government.

Turning to the sheriff, he said: "Sheriff Winters, this warrant is bogus--forged this morning by some one of your lynching-party; the ink is hardly dry. I decline to serve it," and he tore it into strips and flung it on the ground.

"Halt!" cried the oncoming commander, and with creak of saddle and diminishing thunder of hoofs the Gray Squadron stopped within fifty feet of the agency gate, and out of the dust a young lieutenant rode forward and saluted.

"Hold your position, Mr. Payne," commanded Maynard.

"I just _love_ Captain Maynard!" said Jennie, fervently.

"I'll tell him," said Lawson.

"Now," said Maynard, "what's it all about? Nice gang, this!"

The mob that had been so loud of mouth now sat in silence as profound as if each man had been smitten dumb. It was easy to threaten and flourish pistols in the face of an Indian agent with a dozen women to protect, but this wall of Uncle Sam's blue was a different barrier--not to be lightly overleaped. The cowboys were not accustomed to facing such men as these when they shot up towns and raced the Tetongs across the hills.

"Now what is it all about?" repeated Maynard, composing his comedy face into a look of military sternness.

Curtis explained swiftly in a low voice, and ended by saying: "This is, in effect, a lynching-party on federal territory. What would you do in such a case?"

"Order them off, instanter!"

"Precisely. I have done so, but they refuse to go."

"Do they?" Maynard turned and remounted his horse. Saluting, he said:

"Captain Curtis, I am ready to execute any order you may choose to give."

Curtis saluted. "You will see that these citizens, unlawfully assembled, leave the reservation at once. Sheriff Winters, with all due respect to your office, I request you to withdraw. Captain Maynard will escort you to the borders of the reservation. When you have a warrant properly executed, send or bring it to me and I will use every effort to serve it. Good-morning, sir."

Captain Maynard drew his sword. "_'Tention, squadron!_" The tired horses lifted their heads as the dusty troopers forced them into line.

Maynard's voice rang out: "_Left wheel, into line--march!_"

"You'll hear from this!" said the sheriff. "You'll find the State won't stand any such foolishness."

Yarpe's ferocity had entirely evaporated. "'Bout face, boys; we're not fightin' the United States army--I had enough o' that in '63. Clear out! Our bluff don't go."

The cowboys, cursing under breath, whirled their ponies and followed Yarpe, the redoubtable. The sheriff brought up the rear, still contending for the rights of the county, but he retreated. Small as the dusty squadron looked, it was too formidable, both because of its commanders and because of the majestic idea it embodied.

Calvin was the last to leave. "I done my best, Major," he said, loudly, in order that Jennie might hear.

"I know it, Calvin; come and see us again in your civil capacity," replied Curtis, and waved a cordial salute.

As the squadron fell in behind and was hidden by the dust of the passing cattlemen, Curtis turned to where Elsie still stood. He was smiling, but his limbs were stiffened and inert by reason of the rigidity of his long position before the posse.

"We are saved!" he said, in mock-heroic phrase.

"Oh, wasn't it glorious to see the good old blue-and-buff!" cried Jennie, the tears of her joy still on her cheeks. "I could have hugged Captain Maynard."

"There is chance yet," said Curtis. "He's coming back."

Elsie did not speak for a moment. "What would you have done if they had not come?" she asked, soberly.

"I could have delayed them a little longer by sending couriers to Elk and Grayman; but let's not think of that. Let's all go into the house; you look completely tired out."

Elsie fairly reeled with weakness, and Curtis took her arm. "You are trembling," he said, tenderly.

"I haven't stirred for a half-hour," she said. "I was so tense with the excitement. I feared you would be shot, and the tribe isn't worth the sacrifice," she added, with a touch of her old spirit.

"I was in no physical danger," he replied. "But I should have felt disgraced had the mob had its way."

"The people are coming back," said Lawson. "They have seen the soldiers."

"So they are!" exclaimed Curtis. "They are shouting with joy. Can't you hear them? The chiefs are riding this way already; they know the army will protect them."

The thick mass of horsemen was breaking up, some of them were riding towards the women with the camp stuff, others were crossing the valley, while a dozen head men, riding straight towards the agency, began to sing a song of deliverance and victory. Joyous shouts could be heard as the young men signalled the good news.

"_The cattlemen are going--the soldiers have come!_"

XXV

AFTER THE STRUGGLE

Upon reaching the library each member of the party sank into easy-chairs with sighs of deep relief, relaxed and nerveless. The storm was over. Jennie voiced the feeling as she said, "Thank the Lord and Colonel Daggett." Elsie was physically weary to the point of drowsiness, but her mind was active. Mrs. Parker was bewildered and silent. Even Parker was subdued by the grave face of the agent.

Lawson, with a curious half-smile, broke the silence. "There are times when I wish I owned a Gatling gun and knew how to use it."

Curtis started up. "Well, it's all over but the shouting. I must return to the office and set things in order once more."

"You ought to rest a little," said Elsie. "You must feel the strain."

"I am a little inert at the moment," he confessed, "but I'm Hamlet in the play, you know, and must be at my post. I'll meet you all at lunch. You need have no further worry."

The employes responded bravely to his orders. The cheerful clink of the anvil broke forth with tranquillizing effect. The school-bell called the children together, the tepees began to rise from the sod as before, and the sluggish life of the agency resumed its unhurried flow, though beneath the surface still lurked vague forms of fear. Parker returned to his studio, Lawson sought his den, and there stretched out to smoke and muse upon the leadings of the event, while Jennie planned a mid-day dinner for a round dozen. "It will be a sort of love-feast to Captain Maynard," she said, roguishly.

"Will he return so soon?" asked Elsie.

"Oh yes, he'll only go a little way. Jack Maynard can smell a good dinner across a range of foot-hills. Didn't he look beautiful as he smiled? I used to think he grinned, but to-day--well, he looked like a heavenly cherub in the helmet of an archangel as he rode up."

Elsie was genuinely amused. "What is the meaning of this fervor. Has there been something between you and Captain Maynard in the past?"

"Not a thing! Oh, I always liked him--he's so good-natured--and so comical. Can you peel potatoes?"

"I never did such a thing in my life, but I'll try."

About one o'clock Maynard came jogging back, accompanied by a sergeant and a squad of men, dusty, tired, and hungry.

Curtis met him at the gate. "Send your horses down to the corral, Captain. You're to take pot-luck with us."

Maynard dismounted, slowly, painfully. "I've been wondering about those girls," he said, after the horses were led away. "One is your sister Jennie, of course; but who is the other? She's what the boys would call a 'queen.'"

"You've heard of Andrew J. Brisbane?"

"You mean the erstwhile Senator?"

"Yes; this is his daughter."

"Great Himmel! What is she doing here?"

"She's an artist and is making some studies of Indians."

"I didn't suppose a man of Brisbane's blood and brawn could have a girl as fine as she looks to be."

"Oh, Brisbane has his good points--But come over to the house. Of course the mob gave no further trouble?"

"Not a bit, only the trouble of keeping them in sight; they rode like Jehu. I left the chase to Payne--it was what Cooper used to call a 'stern chase and a long chase.' Your quarters aren't so bad," he added, as they entered the library.

Jennie came in wearing an apron and looking as tasty as a dumpling. "How do you do, Colonel Maynard?" she cried out, most cordially.

He gave his head a comical flirt on one side. "I beg pardon! Why Colonel?"

"I've promoted you for the brave deed of this morning."

He recovered himself. "Oh!--oh--yes!--Hah! I had forgotten. You saw me put 'em to flight? I was a little late, but I gave service, don't you think?"

"You were wonderful, but I know you're hungry; we're to have dinner soon--a real dinner, not a lunch."

He looked a little self-conscious. "Well--I--shall be delighted. You see, I was awake most of the night, and in riding one gets hungry--and, besides, breakfast was a little hurried. In fact, I don't remember that I had any."

"Why, you poor thing! I'll hurry it forward. Cheer up," and she whisked out of the room.

Maynard flecked a little dust from his sleeve and inquired, carelessly: "Your sister isn't married?"

"No, she sticks to me still. She's a blessed, good girl, and I don't know what I should do without her."

"You mustn't be selfish," remarked Maynard, reflectively. "But see here, I must knock off some dust, or I will lose the good impression I made on the ladies."

"Make yourself at home here and we'll have something to eat soon," said Curtis at the door.

The dinner was unexpectedly merry. Every one felt like celebrating the army, and Maynard, as the representative of the cavalry arm, came near blushing at the praise which floated his way on toasts which were drunk from a bottle of sherry, a liquor Jennie had smuggled in for cooking purposes.

"I admit I did it," he rose to say, "but I hold it not meet to have it so set down."