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 it