To whom?"

"You know well enough, Captain Moore. It will be only a waste of time to
beat about the bush. Our crowd and the Indians now number over three
hundred, and we are bound to get possession of the fort and all that is
in it."

"Do you speak for the Indians as well as for yourself?"

"I do."

"So far as I know the Indians are not on the warpath, Gilroy. I must
have a talk with one of their chiefs before I do anything."

"You know they are on the warpath. Didn't you have a mix-up with them?"

"There are always some Indians who are ugly and willing to make
trouble."

"Well, all the Indians are standing in with us on this deal," went on
Gilroy, his face darkening. "And you have got to surrender or take the
consequences."

"What will the consequences be?"

"If you won't surrender we'll attack the fort immediately. We know just
how weak you are, and let me tell you that we have a dozen or more
dynamite bombs on hand with which we can blow the fort sky-high if we
wish."

"What good will it do you to capture the fort?"

"We know all about the money that is stored here, and we want every
dollar of it."

"And if we surrender?"

"If you surrender you will be allowed to march from the place
unmolested, taking all of your sick with you, or leaving them here, in
care of a doctor, if you prefer. If you know where your head is level
you will surrender," went on the desperado earnestly.

"But if I am compelled to surrender, don't you know that our army will
be after you, Gilroy?"

"Never mind, we'll take care of that part of it," was the answer, with a
sickly grin. "Then you agree to surrender?"

"I can't do it until I have spoken with one of the leading Indian
chiefs."

At this the desperado's face fell.

"Will White Ox do?" he asked, after an awkward pause.

"Yes."

"All right; I'll bring him along in about half an hour."

This ended the interview, and turning his horse Matt Gilroy rode off and
Captain Moore walked back to the fort.

"A little time gained, at least," was the young officer's comment.

It was fully an hour before Gilroy reappeared, accompanied by White Ox
and an under-chief known as Little Wildcat.

"Want to talk," grunted White Ox, coming to a halt at a safe distance.

"Have you dug up the hatchet, White Ox?" demanded the captain. "If not,
let us smoke the pipe of peace together."

"The pipe of peace is broken," answered the old Indian. "The white man
is not the red man's fri