The tramp of heavy feet on the stairs was heard and the dirty troopers crowded into the editor's room, muskets in hand, cocked, and their fingers on the triggers.
Norton quietly drew the pencil from his ear, smiled at the mottled group of excited men, and spoke in his slow drawl:
"And why this excitement, gentlemen?"
The captain stepped forward:
"Are you Major Daniel Norton?"
"I am, sir."
"You're my prisoner."
"Show your warrant!" was the quick challenge.
"I don't need one, sir."
"Indeed! And since when is this state under martial law?"