He merely nodded; but a look in his eyes gave her to understand that he
would do his duty.
The cattlemen, seeing the wagon whirling round the mesa, mounted and
massed in stern array, believing that the carriage contained the sheriff
and his prisoner. They were disappointed and a little uneasy when they
recognized Brisbane, the great political boss; but with ready wit
Johnson rode along in front of the gang, saying, with a wink: "Put up
your guns, boys. This is a meeting in honor of Senator Brisbane." Then,
as a mutter of laughter ran down the line, he took off his hat and
lifted his voice:
"Boys, three cheers for Senator Brisbane--hip, hip, hurrah!"
After the cheers were given the horsemen closed round the carriage with
cries for a speech.
Brisbane, practised orator and shrewd manipulator, rose as the carriage
stopped, and removed his hat. His eyes were dim and the blood seemed
about to burst through his cheeks, but he was not without
self-possession.
"Gentlemen, I thank you for this demonstration, but I must ask you to
wait till I have rested and refreshed myself. With your permission I
will then address you."
"Right--right!"
"We can wait!" they heartily responded, and opened a way for the
carriage.
Elsie shuddered as she looked into the rude and cruel faces of the
leaders of this lynching party. They no longer amused her. She saw them
now from the stand-point of Captain Curtis and his wards, and realized
how little of mercy they would show to their enemies. On Lawson's lips
lay a subtly contemptuous smile, and he uttered no word--did not lift a
hand till the carriage was at the door.
Streeter helped the Senator out, and with unexpected grace presented his
hand to Elsie. "I do not need help," she said, coldly, and brushed past
him into the little sitting-room, which swarmed with excited, scrawny,
tired, and tearful women.
"What is goin' on out there? Have the soldiers put down the pizen
critters?" asked one.
"You're Miss Brisbane--we heerd you was all killed at the agency.
Weren't you scared?"
Almost contemptuously Elsie calmed their fears, and by a few questions
learned that this house had been made a rallying-point for the settlers
and that the women were just beginning to feel the depressing effects of
being so long away from their homes without rest and proper food.
"_Do_ you think we can go home now?"
"Certainly. Captain Curtis will see that you are not harmed," she
replied, and she spoke with all a wife's sense of joy and pride in her
husband.
"We've been camping here for most a week, seems like, an' we're all wore
out," wailed one little woman who had three small children to herd and
watch over.
Brisbane, inspirited by an egg-nog and a sandwich, mounted a wash-tub on
the low porch and began a speech--a suave, diplomatic utterance, wherein
he counselled moderation in all things. "We can't afford at this time to
do a rash thing," he said, and winked jovially at Johnson. "The election
coming on is, after all, the best chance for us to get back at these
fool Injun apologists. So go slow, boys--go slow!"
As these smooth words flowed from his lips Elsie burned with shame and
anger. Some newly acquired inward light enabled her to read in the
half-hearted dissuasion of her father's speech a subtle, heartless
encouragement to violence _after_ election. While the cheers were still
ringing in her ears, at the close of the address, Elsie felt a touch on
her shoulder and turned to face Calvin, standing close beside her, timid
and flushed.
She held out her hand with a swift rush of confidence.
"Why, how do you do, Mr. Streeter?"
"I'm pretty well," he said, loudly, and added, in a low voice, "I want
to see you alone." He looked about the room. The corner least crowded
was occupied by a woman nursing a wailing baby. "Come this way; she's
Norwegian; she can't understand us."
Elsie followed him, and when he spoke it was in a rapid, low mutter. "Is
the Major goin' to come with Cut Finger?"
"I'm afraid so."
"He mustn't. You know what this gang's here for?"
"What can we do? Can't we warn him?"
"Well, I'm goin' to take a sneak and try it. It's all my neck is worth
to play it on the boys; but it's got to be done, for the Major is a
fighter, and if this mob meets him there will be blood on the moon. Now
don't worry. I'm going to slide right out through the first gate I see
and head him off; mebbe you'd like to write a word or two."
"You are a real hero," she said, as she put a little slip of paper into
his hand, and pressed it there with both of hers.
"Don't do that," he said, hurriedly; "they'll think something's up. I'm
doin' it for the Major; he's treated me white all the way along, and
I'll be derned if I let this gang do him."
A pain shot through her heart. Putting her hand to her bosom, she said:
"It means everything to me, Calvin. Good-bye. I am trusting you--it's
life or death to me. Good-bye!"