“Troops coming!” said Orde to Daly.
The men drew a little to one side, watching the dim line of the forest, dark against the paling sky. Shadows seemed to stir in its blackness. They heard quite distinctly the clink of metal against metal. A man rode out of the shadow and reined up by the fire. “Halt!” commanded a harsh voice. The rivermen could make out the troops—three or four score of them—standing rigid at attention. Reed, afoot now in favour of the commanding officer, pushed forward.
“Who is in charge here?” inquired the officer crisply.
“I am,” replied Orde, stepping forward.
“I wish to inquire, sir, if you have gone mad to counsel your men to resist civil authority?”
“I have not resisted civil authority,” replied Orde respectfully.
“It has been otherwise reported.”
“The reports have been false. The sheriff of this county has arrested about twenty of my men single-handed and without the slightest trouble.”
“Mr. Morris,” cried the officer sharply.
“Yes?” replied the sheriff.