When all four—the Inspector, Hector, Martin and MacFarlane—were assembled, they held a consultation outside the guard-room.
"Why in—ah—heavens," said the Inspector, "wouldn't they talk before?"
"Yes—what was the idea?" Hector agreed. "I made everything clear to them. But they wouldn't speak a word."
Martin laughed. He knew the Indian mind better than any of them.
"They got what chaplain call 'guilty conscience,'" he declared. "One thing—they either 'fraid say a word, fear give themselves away, or other thing—they think you have um for bigger job than horse-steal but you won't let on. You bet your boots, that it! They either make confession or give some other feller away. That why they want me an' Inspector. You see—damn quick."
To a number of a dozen, villainous-looking warriors every one of them, the Indians rose to their feet as the Inspector came in. A good deal of parleying then resulted in Bear Sitting Down, who was their leader, being elected to speak for them all. And Martin began.
"Why did you not say what you have to say to Sergeant Adair?"
The Indian looked uncomfortable.
"We would rather talk to you," he said.
"Well, what have you to say?"