THE FLAG OF TRUCE.
In one important respect the combatants showed commendable discretion.
Although there had been considerable firing on the part of the
rustlers, none of the cattlemen were hurt. It is not unlikely that the
bullets were intended to frighten them, since such excellent marksmen
otherwise could not have discharged their weapons without execution.
Capt. Asbury and his men had not returned a shot. When their enemies
appeared on more than one side of the building it would have been easy
to pick off several without risk to those sheltered within the house,
but he gave orders that nothing of that sort should be done.
The bitterness between the parties was already intense. There were
hot-heads on both sides eager to open the lamentable conflict, but
were it done, there was no saying where it would end. It was wise,
therefore, that the leaders forbore from active hostilities at this
early stage of the business.
From the front of the structure the plain stretched in the direction
of the Big Horn Mountains. It was across this that Jennie Whitney
descried, two days before, the return of her friends with the body of
her father. She now ascended to the second story and peered long and
frequently in the same direction, in the hope of catching sight of her
brother.
Meanwhile Capt. Asbury disposed of the members of his party as best
he could. They needed no instructions from him to avoid in every way
possible annoying the ladies, who were considerate and kind.
About midday, excitement was caused among the besieged by the
appearance of a flag of truce. A man rode over the ridge, down which
the cattlemen had come in such haste, holding a white handkerchief
fluttering over his head. His horse walked slowly and the rider
kept his gaze on the front of the house, as though in doubt of the
reception awaiting him. A hundred feet away he came to a halt, still
flourishing the peace signal above his hat.
Capt. Asbury was the first to discover the messenger and hurriedly
arranged for the interview.
"Inasmuch as that fellow is neither Inman, Cadmus, nor anyone of the
leaders, it is not the thing for me to meet him."
"You have recognized him?" was the inquiring remark of Hawkridge,
glancing with a smile at the officer.
"No. Who is he?"
"Duke Vesey, who does not feel particularly amiable toward you."
"I will meet him," volunteered Monteith Sterry. The captain shook his
head.
"While that fellow is friendly to you, perhaps, others of the company
are very resentful; it isn't best to tempt them. Hawkridge, you are
the best one to act."
"Very well; I will do so."
The horseman had come to a stop and was gazing fixedly at the
building, as if waiting for a response to his advance.
Jennie Whitney descended the stairs at this moment.
"I think I see Fred coming," she said, with some agitation; "will they
do him any harm?"
"No," replied Sterry, "they have nothing against him."
"But the other day--" she ventured, doubtfully.
"Was a scrimmage, likely to take place at any time; that is ended, but
they will probably hold him prisoner."
During this brief conversation a brisk search was going on among the
three men for a white pocket-handkerchief. None of them possessed such
an article, the hue in each case being different. Hawkridge appealed
to Miss Whitney, and she produced a linen handkerchief of snowy
whiteness.
"Just the thing," he said, drawing back the door sufficiently to allow
him to pass out. "I don't think I will be detained long. It is
understood," he added, turning to the captain, "that we don't consider
the question of surrender under any terms."
"It will be better to report, and then decide what to do."
Hawkridge bowed and passed out. He waved the spotless linen in front
of his face as he walked toward the horseman, and both smiled when
they recognized each other.
"Well, Duke, what is it?" asked the footman, as though he were asking
an ordinary question of a friend.
"I reckon you can guess. Since the two companies came together Ira
Inman is at the head of the army. Some of the boys are wild to begin
shooting, and they'll do it pretty soon. Before that, Inman decided to
offer you folks a chance to give in. That's my business."
"You simply demand our surrender, as I understand it?"
"You've guessed it the first time," replied Vesey, with a nod of his
head.
"What terms do you offer?"
"You'll be treated as prisoners of war; but," added the rustler, "it
is hardly right to say that. It's Inman's idea to hold you as hostages
for the right treatment of any of our boys that may fall into the
hands of the stockmen."
"That is quite different. Let me ask, Duke, whether this treatment is
guaranteed to all of our folks?"
"I wish I could say it was, Dick, but I can't; Inman makes two
exceptions--Capt. Asbury and Mont Sterry. That Sterry showed himself
so much of a man and was so square toward me when I was caught that I
would do anything I could for him. I appealed to Inman to let up on
him, but he won't; some of the boys are so mad they will shoot him on
sight."
"And Capt. Asbury?"
Vesey's face became hard.
"He ought to be hanged because of the way he acted last night."
"But what is proposed to do with him and Sterry?"
"Give them a fair trial."
Hawkridge shook his head with a meaning smile.
"It won't work, Duke; there isn't a man in our company who would
consent to anything of the kind. There could be but one issue to such
a trial, and it would be nothing less than the betrayal of our leader
or a comrade by us."
"Inman declares he will burn down the house if you refuse his terms."
"Let him try it as soon as he pleases; you can tell him for Capt.
Asbury that his terms are rejected."