"Precisely. I have done so, but they refuse to go."
"Do they?" Maynard turned and remounted his horse. Saluting, he said:
"Captain Curtis, I am ready to execute any order you may choose to give."
Curtis saluted. "You will see that these citizens, unlawfully assembled, leave the reservation at once. Sheriff Winters, with all due respect to your office, I request you to withdraw. Captain Maynard will escort you to the borders of the reservation. When you have a warrant properly executed, send or bring it to me and I will use every effort to serve it. Good-morning, sir."
Captain Maynard drew his sword. "'Tention, squadron!" The tired horses lifted their heads as the dusty troopers forced them into line.
Maynard's voice rang out: "Left wheel, into line—march!"
"You'll hear from this!" said the sheriff. "You'll find the State won't stand any such foolishness."
Yarpe's ferocity had entirely evaporated. "'Bout face, boys; we're not fightin' the United States army—I had enough o' that in '63. Clear out! Our bluff don't go."
The cowboys, cursing under breath, whirled their ponies and followed Yarpe, the redoubtable. The sheriff brought up the rear, still contending for the rights of the county, but he retreated. Small as the dusty squadron looked, it was too formidable, both because of its commanders and because of the majestic idea it embodied.
Calvin was the last to leave. "I done my best, Major," he said, loudly, in order that Jennie might hear.