"He's my father's sister's husband—but that doesn't matter; I'd defend him if he were a stranger. I think he has been shamefully treated. The idea of searching his private desk!"
Curtis looked at her keenly. "I am under orders," he said. "Mr. Sennett is nothing to me, one way or the other. The question for answer is—has he abused his office?"
"He has not!" exclaimed Elsie. "I know he has not. He is not a man to cheat and steal; he is not a strong man, but he is kind and generous."
"Too kind and too generous," muttered Lawson.
"I'm sorry to say that the records are against him," replied Curtis, "and his action is against him. He and his son have gone to Pinon City—riding very like fugitives. I had no orders to hold them; indeed, I was glad to let them go."
Elsie bit her lips. "He has gone to get aid," she said at last, "and when he comes back you will take a different tone with him."
Curtis laughed. "I believe he did say he'd have my hide, or something like that."
Lawson put in a word. "He'll do it, too, if the cattle interest can influence the Secretary. Don't tell us any more than is proper, Captain, but—how do you find his accounts?"
"In very bad shape. The chiefs say he has been holding back rations and turning in bad beef for some time."
"You'd take the word of a nasty Indian against my uncle, or any white man, I can see that," said Elsie, in withering scorn.