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 employes 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."