ust surprise him if we can," said Curtis to Crow. "We must not
shoot. I will talk to him. If he cocks his gun kill him; but I don't
think he will want to fight."

The lads could be heard singing their plaintive songs as they climbed
the hills for their ponies. Smoke was rising from each lodge, and
children, dogs, and hens were outdoing each other in cheerful uproar as
Two Horns drove up to where Black Wolf stood, an old man with thin, gray
hair, shielding his eyes with the scant shadow of his bony wrist.

"Ho, agent!" he cried. "Why do you come to see us so early?"

"Is Cut Finger here?"

"Yes; he is in there." He pointed to a tepee near.

"Be silent!" commanded Curtis, as he alighted swiftly, but without
apparent haste or excitement. Crow instantly followed him, alert and
resolute. As they entered the tepee Cut Finger, still half asleep on
his willow hammock, instinctively reached for his rifle, which lay
beneath him on the ground, dangerous as a half-awakened rattlesnake.

Curtis put his foot on the weapon, and said, pleasantly: "Good-morning,
Cut Finger; you sleep late."

The young man sat up and blinked stupidly, while Crow took the gun from
beneath the agent's foot.

Curtis signed to Black Wolf. "This boy has killed a herder and I have
come for him. You knew of his deed."

"I have heard of it," the old man replied, with a gesture.

"It is such men who bring trouble on the tribe," pursued Curtis. "They
must be punished. Cut Finger must go with me down to the agency. He must
not make more trouble."

The news of the agent's mission brought every soul hurrying to the tent,
for Cut Finger had said, "I will fight the soldiers if they come."

Curtis heard them coming and said: "Crow, tell all these people outside
that Cut Finger has done a bad thing and must be punished. That unless
such men are cast out by the Tetongs they will always be in trouble."

Crow lifted up his big, resounding voice and recounted what the agent
had said, and added: "You shall see we will take this man. I, Crow, have
said it. It will be foolish for any one to resist."

The agent, sitting before Cut Finger, addressed him in signs. "I am your
friend, I am sorry for you. I am sorry for any man who does wrong and
suffers punishment; but you have injured your people, you made the white
man very angry; he came ready to shoot--you saw how I turned him away.
I said: 'I will find the man who shot the herder. I will bring him--I do
not want