"I didn't call on you, Captain," said the agent, "because my Indian police are quite sufficient."
"Police?" said Captain Baker, eying the other sternly. "Why, you've got the whole tribe out here. Some one sent me a wire that a fight was on at Red Butte Ranch between the settlers and the Indians."
The Irishman grinned.
"Sure, I took the liberty of invitin' you, Captain! Knew you wouldn't like to miss a little thing like that."
After the asphalt conference Baker's opinion of the agent wasn't printable, and now he looked him over with unmistakable disapproval. That Ladd hadn't appealed to him or notified him of the trouble seemed to him most suspicious.
"Well, there isn't going to be any scrap between the settlers and the Indians. I'll see to that."
Knowing that he could not move without orders, he had telegraphed to head-quarters.
"Mr. Ladd, your Indians are off the Reservation. I've instructions to put them back."
Ladd saw that he could expect no favors from the officer.
"Correct, Captain," he answered, meeting the challenge.