his head like a young lion listening to a
battle-call. "They are beating in the gates!" he said. For a moment he
hesitated, but only for a moment. "She is safe!" he thought, with a
glance towards Elsie's door. "My man and the poor little wife are not,"
and he rushed down the stair-way and out into the street with intent to
find and defend his faithful men.

XXXIII

ELSIE CONFESSES HER LOVE

As he paused on the steps to the hotel, a gust of bitter rage swept over
him. "What can I do against this implacable town? Oh, for a squad of the
boys in blue!"

The street and square were filled with men all running, as to a fire,
from left to right--a laughing, jesting throng. Along the hitching-poles
excited and jocular cowboys were loosing their ponies and leaping to
their saddles. Some excitable citizen had begun to ring the fire-bell,
and women, bareheaded and white with fear, were lining the sidewalks and
leaning from windows. The town resembled an ant-hill into which a
fleeing bison has planted a foot.

"Oh, sir!" cried one young mother as she caught sight of Curtis, "are
the Injuns coming?"

"No," he replied, bitterly, "these marauders are not Indians; they are
noble citizens," and set off at a run towards the corral in which Two
Horns and Crow were camped. The tumult behind him grew fainter, and at
last died to a murmur, and only one or two houses showed a light.

Ladue's was an old ranch on the river, around which the town of Pinon
had for twenty years been slowly growing. The cabin was of stone, low
and strong, and two sides of it formed the corner of a low corral of
cottonwood logs. In this enclosure teamsters (for two bits) were allowed
to camp and feed their horses. A rickety gate some fifty feet south of
the house stood ajar, and Curtis entered the yard, calling sharply for
Crow Wing and Two Horns. No one replied. Searching the stalls, he found
the blankets wherein they had lain, but the tumult had undoubtedly
called them forth into danger.

Hurrying to the house, he knocked most vigorously at the door--to no
effect. The shack was also empty. Closing the door with a slam, the
young officer, now thoroughly alarmed, turned back towards the hotel. A
vast, confused clamor, growing each moment louder, added edge to his
apprehension. The crowd was evidently returning from the jail, jubilant
and remorseless. Upon reaching the corner of the square Curtis turned to
the left, with the design of encircling it,