"You sent a man to say you wanted me."
"Yes, I sent a man about two hours ago to say I wanted you," was the ironical reply. "You were not to be found. Have you any report to make?"
"Not that I know of," he said curtly. A sort of quiet antagonism had always been felt between the chief of scouts and the new commander, but this was the first time any expression had been given it, and Genesee's intolerance quickly responded to the manner of the officer that had in it both dislike and distrust.
"Then you refuse to tell me where you spent the night?"
The light in Genesee's eyes flashed sudden defiance.
"Yes; if it comes to that, and that's the way you put it, I do."
"You had better think twice before you give that answer," advised Captain Holt, his face paling with anger at the insubordination; "and another question to be put to you is, Where is the half-breed, your runner?"
"I don't know as that concerns you, either," answered Genesee coolly. "He is my Indian, and neither of us belonging to the United States Army, we can leave camp when it suits us. But I don't mind telling you I sent him to Holland's yesterday."
"For what purpose?"
"My own business."