A bullet-head made itself visible from behind a barrel. "Don't let him bluff y', Nick," called a voice.
The other looked round. "Shut y' fly-trap, Babe," he commanded.
"Thank you," said Lounsbury, pleasantly, "interpreter is right. Two white women are held as captives in an Uncapapa camp somewhere west of here. It's been learned that you understand and speak the tongue. So, we present Colonel Cummings' compliments. He would like very much to have a talk with you at Brannon."
It was a solution to Matthews. "Yes? Yes?" he said approvingly; then hesitated in suspicion as he measured the storekeeper.
"Oh, I guess I don't want to be no interpreter," he said.
Lounsbury smiled. "Just as you say, just as you say. Boys,"—cheerily—"sorry if I cut in at the wrong time. Don't let us stop your fun. Mr. Fraser is not here officially."
A murmur ran around. The disturbing trooper advanced toward Matthews aggressively.
Up went Matthews' hand again. "Jus' a minute," he said.
Matthews turned to Fraser, mustering an expression of importance.