Most of them were men of the higher types of Western adventurer. The
Lieutenant liked these hardy sons of his own race, and determined not to
use force against them if it could he avoided.
He crossed the river to announce his official instructions, and was met
by a squad of daring, resolute fellows, armed and ready for a fight.
Their leader, a tall, red-headed, serious-looking man, opened the
conference with scant ceremony. Looking the youthful officer squarely in
the eye, he slowly drawled:
"Young man, we have defied the gov'ment once befo' when they sent their
boys up here to steal our mines. Now, ef yer know when yer well off,
you'll let honest white men alone and quit sidin' with Injuns--"
There was no mistaking his accent. He meant war.
The Lieutenant's answer came in quick, even, tones:
"The United States Government has ordered your removal, gentlemen. My
business as a soldier is to obey. I shall be sorry to use force. But
I'll do it, if it's necessary. I suggest a private interview with your
leader--" he nodded to the red-headed man.
"Sure!"
"Talk it over!"
"All right."
The men from all sides gave their approval. The leader hesitated a
moment, and measured the tall, straight young officer. He didn't like
this wrestle at close quarters with those penetrating eyes and the
trained mind behind them.
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