“I’ve busted in on you, colonel, because my business is business, not a mess of reportin’ and signin’ up on nothing, like your fool army doin’s.” Chadron clamped with clicking spurs across the severe bare floor as he made this announcement, the frown of his displeasure in having been stopped at the door still dark on his face.
“I’m waiting your pleasure, sir,” Colonel Landcraft returned, stiffly.
“I want twenty-five troopers and a cannon, and somebody that knows how to use it, and I want ’em right away!”
Chadron gave the order with a hotness about him, and an impatience not to be denied.
“Sir!” said Colonel Landcraft, throwing his bony shoulders back, his little blue eyes growing very cold and unfriendly.
“Them damn rustlers of Macdonald’s are up and 138 standin’ agin us, and I tell you I want troopers, and I want ’em on the spot!”
Colonel Landcraft swallowed like an eagle gorging a fish. His face grew red, he clamped his jaw, and held his mouth shut. It took him some little time to suppress his flooding emotions, and his voice trembled even when he ventured to trust himself to speak.
“That’s a matter for your civil authorities, sir; I have nothing to do with it at all.”
“You ain’t got—nothing—?” Chadron’s amazement seemed to overcome him. He stopped, his eyes big, his mouth open; he turned his head from side to side in dumbfounded way, as if to find another to bear witness to this incredible thing.
“I tell you they’re threatenin’ my property, and the property of my neighbors!” protested Chadron, stunned, it seemed, that he should have to stop for details and explanations. “We’ve got millions invested—if them fellers gobbles up our land we’re ruined!”