Calvin slid from his horse, and while the sheriff was climbing stiffly down on the opposite side slipped a note into Curtis's hand.
As the sheriff listened to Calvin's low-voiced report Curtis glanced at the paper. It was in pencil, and from Elsie. "The mob is waiting at the half-way house, cruel as wolves—turn back—for my sake."
Curtis crumpled the paper in his hand and called out imperatively: "Come, Sheriff Winters, I cannot wait."
Winters turned away smilingly. "That's all right, Cal. I didn't understand, that's all. I'm glad the boys went home. Of course the troops settled everything."
Curtis caught Calvin's eye, and a nod, almost imperceptible, passed between them, and the cowboy was aware that the soldier understood the situation. "Where did you leave the Senator?"
"At the half-way house."
"How was he?"
"Feeling well enough to make a speech," replied Calvin.
The other team, containing Grismore and the reporters, was by this time but a few rods away, and, watching his opportunity, Curtis signalled: "Stop that wagon—hold them here." Calvin again nodded. "Drive on," called Curtis. And Winters smiled with rare satisfaction.
Some miles before reaching the border of the reservation, Two Horns, at a sign from Curtis, left the main road and began to climb a low ridge to the east.