hoping to find the two
redmen looking on from a door-way on the outskirts of the throng.

He had crossed but one side of the plaza, when a band of cowboys dashed
in from the opposite corner with swinging lariats, whooping shrilly, in
close pursuit of a flying footman. A moment later a rope looped, the
fugitive fell and the horsemen closed round him in joyous clamor, like
dogs around a fox.

With a fear that this was one of his men, Curtis raised a great shout,
but his voice was lost in the rush and roar of the throng pouring in
towards the fugitive. In fierce rage he rushed straight towards the
whirling mass of horsemen, but before he had passed half the intervening
space a horseman circled the pavilion, and the popping of a revolver,
swift yet with deliberate pauses, began. Wild yells broke forth, the
pursuers scattered, other revolvers began to crack, and as the press of
horsemen reeled back, Curtis perceived Calvin, dismounted and
bareheaded, with his back against the wall of the little wooden
band-stand, defiant, a revolver in each hand, holding the mob at bay,
while over his head a light sputtered and sizzled.

A lane seemed to open for Curtis as he ran swiftly in towards the
writhing, ensnared captive on the ground. It was Two Horns, struggling
with the ropes which bound him, and just as his Little Father bent over
him the big Tetong freed himself, and, with a sliding rush, entered the
shadow by Calvin's side. Instantly his revolver began to speak.

Curtis, left alone in the full light of the lamp on the pavilion, raised
his arms and shouted: "Hold! Cease firing!" The crowd recognized him and
fell silent. The army blue subdued them, and those who had done the
shooting began to edge away.

For a moment the young soldier could not speak, so furious was he, but
at last he found words: "Cowards! Is this your way of fighting--a
hundred to one? Where is your mayor? Have you no law in this town?" He
turned to Calvin, who stood still, leaning against the pavilion. "Are
you hurt?"

Calvin lifted one dripping hand. "I reckon I'm punched a few. My right
arm feels numb, and the blood is fillin' my left boot. But I'm all here,
sure thing." But even as he spoke he reeled. Curtis caught him; he
smiled apologetically: "That left leg o' mine, sure feels like a
hitchin'-post; reckon some one must o' clipped a nerve somewhere."

Two Horns seized him by the other arm, just as Winters blustered into
the circle. "What's going o