"This is a put-up job, that's what it is, a put-up job," and the representative of the cowboys, now thoroughly enraged, made a movement in the direction of the pile of guns nestling in front of Wah-na-gi.
"McShay!" cried Ladd imperatively; "I wouldn't advise you to try to get your gun. My Indian police are within call and they have orders to put down violence."
The baffled fury of the cowman was a pleasant sight to the agent and he smiled broadly as he explained:
"You know this is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you," and this was strictly true; "but I am endeavoring to take it calmly," he added with an irritating grin. "You don't see me getting excited."
"Well, boys," said McShay to his followers, "the wheel is crooked and the cards are marked, but we'll sit through the game out of respect for the chairman."
McCloud bowed, pleased and flattered by the deference of the rough man whose sincerity was unmistakable.
"Thank you. I'm sure the agent will have no excuse for using the police even to keep the peace." And he felt grateful to McShay that the latter did not for a moment suspect him of being connected in any way with what he was pleased to regard as a crooked game.
"I thought it best to be on the safe side," explained the agent. "And now I think it only fair, also in the interests of peace, to make my position plain. The rest of the lands you cowboys are illegally holding are on the Reservation and you've got to get off."
"Don't think so," said McShay, having now in a measure regained his poise. "No, don't think so. They were thrown open by Act of Congress and we hold 'em as original discoverers and locators. We hold 'em under the mineral laws."
"This isn't your day at home, McShay. You're wrong all the way round. Calthorpe here is a surveyor——"