Sennett flamed out into wild oaths. "You shall not search my private papers."
"Silence!" called Curtis. "Another oath and I'll put you in the guard-house."
"Do you suppose I'm going to submit to this without protest? You treat me like a criminal."
"So far as my orders go, that's what you are," said Curtis. "I give you the benefit of the doubt so long as you act the gentleman, but you must respect the presence of my sister, or I'll gag you." After a pause he added, in a gentler tone: "I don't pretend to judge your case. I am merely obeying the orders of the department."
"I have powerful friends in Washington. You will regret this," snarled Sennett. But his son was like one smitten dumb; his breathing was troubled, and his big, gray eyes were childish in their wide appeal.
Lawson then spoke. "Can I do anything further, Captain? Command me freely."
"No, I think not, except to see that my horses are taken care of and my guide fed. I suppose there is a mess or boarding-house where my sister can get something to eat."
"Won't you come to dinner with me?" asked Lawson. "Mrs. Wilcox, some artist friends, and I are messing over in one of the old quarters, and our mid-day dinner is waiting."
Curtis smiled grimly. "Thank you, I am on duty. I must dine with Mr. Sennett. Jennie will accept your invitation thankfully."
As Curtis walked over to the agency house with Sennett and his son, Jennie looked anxious. "They may do something to him."