“Standing armed against you in your own house, before your own wife and daughter!” said he, turning like the old tiger that he was upon Chadron again. “And in the presence of an officer of the United States Army—my daughter, armed to protect herself! By heaven, sir! you’ve disgraced the uniform you wear!”
Major King, scowling darkly, dropped his hand in suggestive gesture to his sword. Colonel Landcraft, his slight, bony old frame drawn up to its utmost inch, marched to him, fire in his eye.
“Unbuckle that sword! You’re not fit to wear it,” said he.
Chadron had drawn away from the door of Macdonald’s room a little, and stood apart from Major King with his wife and daughter. The cattleman 299 had attempted no defense, had said no word. In the coming of Colonel Landcraft, full of authority, strong and certain of hand, Chadron appeared to know that his world was beginning to tumble about his ears.
Now he stepped forward to interpose in behalf of his tool and co-conspirator, in one last big bluff. Major King fell back a stride before the charge of the infuriated old colonel, which seemed to have a threat of personal violence in it, the color sinking out of his face, his hand still on his sword.
“What authority have you got to come into my house givin’ orders?” Chadron wanted to know. “Maybe your bluffin’ goes with some people, but it don’t go with me. You git to hell out of here!”
“In your place and time I’ll talk to you, you sneaking hound!” Colonel Landcraft answered, throwing Chadron one blasting look. “Take off that sword, surrender those arms! You are under arrest.” This to Major King, who stood scowling, watching the colonel as if to ward an attack.
“By whose authority do you make this demand?” questioned Major King, insolently. “I am not aware that any command—”
Colonel Landcraft turned his back upon him and strode to the open door, through which the dismounted troopers could be seen standing back a respectful distance in the shaft of light that fell through it. At his appearance there, at the sight of that old battered hat and familiar uniform, the 300 men lifted a cheer. Little tyrant that he was, hard-handed and exacting, they knew him for a soldier and a man. They knew, too, that their old colonel had not been given a square deal in that business, and they were glad to see him back.
The colonel acknowledged the greeting with a salute, his old head held prouder at that moment than he ever had carried it in his life.