It was all sinister and menacing to the Parkers, and all wondered till Curtis turned to say: "They are my mill-hands—good, faithful boys, too."
"Mill-hands!" exclaimed Parker. "They looked uncommonly like a scalping party."
"That is what imagination can do. I thought your faces were extra solemn," remarked Curtis, dryly; but Lawson knew that the agent was not so untroubled as he pretended, for old Crow Killer had a bitter story to relate of the passage of a band of cowboys through his camp. They had stampeded his ponies and shot at him, one bullet passing so close to his ear that it burned the skin, and he was angry.
"They wish to kill us, these cattlemen," he said, sombrely, in conclusion. "If they come again we will fight."
Happily, his vehemence did not reach the comprehension of the women nor the understanding of Parker, and Lawson smoked on as calmly as if these tell-tale gestures were the flecking of shadows cast by the leaping flames. At last the red visitors rose and vanished as silently as they came. They seemed to pass through black curtains, so suddenly they disappeared.
In spite of all reassurance, the women were a little reluctant to go to bed—at least Mrs. Parker and Elsie were.
"I wish the men's tent were not so far off," Mrs. Parker said to Elsie, plaintively.
"I'll ask them to move it, if you wish," returned Elsie, and when Jennie came in she said: "Aren't you a little nervous to-night?"
Jennie looked surprised. "Why, no! Do you mean about sleeping in a tent?"
"Yes," replied Mrs. Parker. "Suppose a wolf or a redman should come?"