“Make him understand that I will give a receipt for the horse. If it is not returned the company will pay in trade.”
“No spare horses,” he says.
“Let him give you the horse you came on.”
Stonor did not believe this for a moment. “Very well then, you can walk back,” he said coolly.
Imbrie thought better of this. He entered into a colloquy with Myengeen which eventually resulted in a horse being caught and led up and saddled. Stonor gave a receipt for it as promised. Myengeen handled the bit of paper fearfully.
“Now mount!” said Stonor.
“Aren’t you going to let me have my breakfast?”
“We’ll spell beside the trail.”
Myengeen became visibly excited and began to harangue Imbrie in a fiery style, with sidelong looks at the policeman. Stonor out of the tail of his eye saw answering scowls gather on the faces of the other Indians as they listened. Myengeen’s gestures were significant; with a sweep of his arm he called attention to the number of his followers, and then pointed to Stonor, who was but one.