"It was a good thing for you that he did stop you," said the captain quietly. "You would have brought yourself into serious trouble by such a proceeding."
"I know that," said Mr. Wentworth, "but who cares for trouble when his dander's up? Say, cap, may I have my rifle? Ackerman took it away from me."
"You may have it on condition that you will make no more attempts on the life of this prisoner," replied the captain. "There is a law to deal with such fellows as he is."
"Where in the world is it, I'd like to know?" exclaimed Mr. Wentworth fiercely. "It hasn't got out here to Texas yet. If I had shot him, as I meant to do, you would have had a guard over me in no time; but he came with a band of his friends and set fire to my house, and carried off my little boys, and killed my herdsmen, and drove off my stock; and you, knowing it all, stand here, with your hundred and twenty blue-coats, and tell me that I must not touch him. Your colonel will give him up when his agent makes a demand for him, and he'll go back to his reservation, and the government will feed him on good food and give him good clothes, and some rascally trader will sell him more powder and balls to kill white folks with; but if I—Dog-gone my buttons!—Ackerman, give me that rifle."
It was plain that Mr. Wentworth's "dander" was still "up"—'way up. The listening troopers exchanged glances of approval with one another, and would have cheered him if they had dared. Being a civilian, the man was at liberty to talk pretty much as he pleased; but if one of their own number had made such an exhibition of temper in the presence of an officer, he would have been punished for it.
"We will not discuss that matter," said the captain calmly. "I know my business and attend to it strictly, leaving the agents to look out for their own affairs. They are not responsible to me, or to you either, for the manner in which they do the work entrusted to them."
"All right, cap," said Mr. Wentworth, picking up one of his boys and then lowering him carefully to the ground. "Mum is the word, if you say so. But I haven't heard you tell Ackerman to give me that rifle yet."
"Neither have I heard you make that promise," was the reply.
"Well, I'll make it, but I tell you I hate to, mightily."
The captain smiled, and nodded to George, who rode up and handed over the Winchester.