"He is in uniform, anyway," said Leger. "We'll have to stop them. Let the lad go, Tomlinson!"
Tomlinson did not hear him, for just then he swung the trooper off his feet, and staggering forward a pace or two fell with him into the creek. They splashed into the water, and apparently rolled over and over in the midst of it, while confused shouts rose from the miners.
"Pull him off. No, stand clear. Let them have a show!"
Then the corporal of police, trotting forward, pulled his horse up at the edge of the creek.
"Let up on that man, prospector," he said sharply.
Tomlinson seemed to hear him, for he relaxed his hold and slowly stood up, while Trooper Probyn rose in the middle of the creek with the water draining from him and blood on his cheek. The miners gathered round, but the corporal sat stiffly in his saddle with expressionless face.
"Stand off, you," he said, with a glance at them, and then turned to Probyn. "Now, what in the name of thunder is the meaning of this circus?"
"It's a little difference of opinion," said the trooper. "Prospector Tomlinson felt I'd said something insulting to him."
The corporal appeared to reflect. "Considering where you were sent to, I can't quite figure what you were doing here, anyway; but that's not the point," he said. "I'll trouble you to come along to the outpost, Tomlinson."
One of the miners stepped forward. "He's staying where he is," he said. "I guess the trooper made the trouble and only got what he wanted. Hadn't both of you better light out of this?"