g afraid, indeed! Turning his horse
over to an orderly and sending him within the stockade, Boynton ordered
the gate closed.

"We'll have a breeze here in a minute," he whispered to Davies. "That
sinner means mischief. You watch him and the agent. I'll keep my eye on
the main body."

Fifteen yards away, Red Dog halted and silently studied the shadowy
group on the agency porch. There stood the bureau's "ablegate," the
official interpreter by his side. In the door-way, dimly outlined, were
two of his assistants, men who had known the Sioux for years, but knew
not influential relatives in the East. Boynton ranged up close alongside
in hopes of prompting the official. "He's beginning to look knee-sprung
already," whispered he to Davies, "but I'll brace him if I can." Just
behind the agent stood one of his police, and this was before the days
of an Indian police that, properly handled, proved valuable as
auxiliaries. Then Red Dog in slow, sonorous speech began to declaim.

"Choke him off! Make him dismount and report at your office. He'll only
insult you where he is," whispered Boynton.

"Red Dog says, as the agent didn't dare come and get him, he concluded
to come in and see whether the agent would dare take him," began the
interpreter, in trembling tones, the moment the Indian paused.

"Too late, by God!" hissed Boynton between his set teeth. "He means to
blackguard the whole party right here and then ride off rejoicing."

And Red Dog reined closer and began anew. Throwing back his
quill-embroidered robe, he lifted a muscular arm to heaven, and with
clinching fist and flashing eyes seemed to hurl invective straight in
the agent's face.

"You dare demand the arrest of Red Dog, do you?" he thundered in his
native tongue, leaving hardly an instant for the interpreter. "Now hear
Red Dog's reply. The blood of one of our young men calls aloud for
vengeance. His slayer is here and you know him. Red Dog, backed by the
braves of every tribe at the reservation, comes to demand his surrender.
Give him up to us and your lives are safe. Refuse, and you, your wives
and children, are at the mercy of my young men. Red Dog dares and defies
the soldiers of the Great Father."

Consciously or unconsciously, in the magnificence of his wrath, the
chief had ridden almost to the very edge of the porch and there shook
his clinched fist in the ghastly face of McPhail. The agent started back
amazed, terrified, for as though to emphasize his