passed.
He observed that Lawson merely bowed when she said "Good-night"
politely. Surely some change had come to their relationship.

Lawson turned. "I think I will turn in, Captain; I have endorsed the
telegram."

"It must go at once." He tapped on the pane, and almost instantly a
Tetong, sleeping under the window, rose from his blanket and stood with
his face to the window, alert and keen-eyed. "Tony, I have a long ride
for you."

"All right," replied the faithful fellow, cheerfully.

"I want you to take some letters to Pinon City. Come round to the door."

As he stepped into the light the messenger appeared to be a boy of
twenty, black-eyed and yellow-skinned, with thin and sensitive lips.
"Take the letters to the post-office," said Curtis, speaking slowly.
"You understand--and these despatches to the telegraph-office."

"Pay money?"

"No pay. Can you go now?"

"Yes, go now."

"Very well, take the best pony in the corral. You better keep the trail
and avoid the ranches. Good-night."

The young fellow put the letters away in the inside pocket of his blue
coat, buttoned it tightly, and slipped out into the night, and was
swallowed up by the moonless darkness.

"Aren't you afraid they will do Tony harm if they meet him?"

"Not in his uniform."

"I wouldn't want that ride. Well, so long, old man. Call me if I can be
of any use."

After Lawson went out Curtis sank back into his big chair and closed his
eyes in deep thought. As he forecast the enormous and tragic results of
the return of that armed throng of reckless cattlemen he shuddered. A
war would almost destroy the Tetongs. It would nullify all he had been
trying to do for them, and would array the whole State, the whole
Indian-hating population of the nation, against them. Jennie re-entered
softly and stood by his side. "It's worrisome business being Indian
agent, after all, isn't it, George?" she said, with her hand in his
hair.

He forced himself to a cheerful tone of voice. "Oh, I don't know; this
is our first worry, and it will soon be over. It looks bad just now, but
it will be--"

A knock at the outer door startled them both. "That is a white
man--probably Barker," he said, and called, "Come in."

Calvin Streeter entered, a little abashed at seeing Jennie. Meeting
Curtis's look of inquiry, he said, with winning candor, "Major, I been
a-studyin' on this thing a good 'eal, and I've come to the conclusion
that you're right on all these co