he said in a quiet stern voice. "I want
you to come along with me."

His hand had hardly closed upon the wrist than with a single motion,
swift, snake-like, the Indian wrenched his hand from the Inspector's
iron grasp and, leaping back a space of three paces, stood with body
poised as if to spring.

"Halt there, Chief! Don't move or you die!"

The Indian turned to see Cameron covering him with two guns. At once
he relaxed his tense attitude and, drawing himself up, he demanded in a
voice of indignant scorn:

"Why you touch me? Me Big Chief! You little dog!"

As he stood, erect, tall, scornful, commanding, with his head thrown
back and his arm outstretched, his eyes glittering and his face eloquent
of haughty pride, he seemed the very incarnation of the wild unconquered
spirit of that once proud race he represented. For a moment or two a
deep silence held the group of Indians, and even the white men were
impressed. Then the Inspector spoke.

"Trotting Wolf," he said, "I want this man. He is a horse-thief. I know
him. I am going to take him to the Fort. He is a bad man."

"No," said Trotting Wolf, in a loud voice, "he no bad man. He my friend.
Come here many days." He held up both hands. "No teef--my friend."

A loud murmur rose from the Indians, who in larger numbers kept crowding
nearer. At this ominous sound the Inspector swiftly drew two revolvers,
and, backing toward the man he was seeking to arrest, said in a quiet,
clear voice:

"Trotting Wolf, this man goes with me. If he is no thief he will be
back again very soon. See these guns? Six men die," shaking one of them,
"when this goes off. And six more die," shaking the other, "when
this goes off. The first man will be you, Trotting Wolf, and this man
second."

Trotting Wolf hesitated.

"Trotting Wolf," said Cameron. "See these guns? Twelve men die if you
make any fuss. You steal my cattle. You cannot stop your young men. The
Piegans need a new Chief. If this man is no thief he will be back again
in a few days. The Inspector speaks truth. You know he never lies."

Still Trotting Wolf stood irresolute. The Indians began to shuffle and
crowd nearer.

"Trotting Wolf," said the Inspector sharply, "tell your men that the
first man that steps beyond that poplar-tree dies. That is my word."

The Chief spoke to the crowd. There was a hoarse guttural murmur in
response, but those nearest to the tree backed away from it. They knew
the Police never showed a g