had ordered, while the lieutenant fumed and fussed and swore.

At last he could stand it no longer, and dashed away from Ted's side to
where Bud was superintending the work of the cow-punchers.

"Here, none of that," he said brusquely to Bud, who looked even more
disreputable than Ted.

"See here, who are you alludin' at?" asked Bud, wheeling around on him.

"I'm talking to you. I want those cattle driven in to the pasture, and I
want no delay or nonsense about it," cried the officer angrily.

"Now, run along, little soldier boy, don't yer see I'm busy?" Bud looked
at the officer with a tolerant pity.

Ted now rode up and interfered.

"I'm capable of giving all the orders necessary to my men," he said
gently. "You will please not interfere."

"Who are you?" asked the lieutenant, with a sneer.

"My name is Ted Strong."

The lieutenant looked at him with some curiosity and respect.

"Oh," he said. "I thought perhaps you were some kind of a foreman. My
name is Lieutenant Barrows."

Ted acknowledged it with a slight bow.

"I am in charge of this delivery of beef to the department, and as you
are already late I wish you to send this herd further into the
reservation."

"I am sorry I cannot comply with your wish," said Ted, "but it will be
impossible to-night. The cattle made a forced march to-day, and are
tired out, and, besides, they have just been watered, and have only time
to graze a full feed before they bed. I am explaining all this to show
you that my action in not doing what you wish was not through spite, but
in the best interests of both the government and ourselves."

"It is my duty to inspect the animals, and----"

"I can't help that. The cattle do not go forward a foot farther
to-night. I will get them into the pasture early in the morning."

"That will be too late," said the officer curtly. "I shall inform the
commandant of the post, Colonel Croffut, that you are late and that you
refuse to obey orders."

"Confound your impudence, who are you to give orders to me?" asked Ted,
mad in a minute.

"As I told you, I am the inspector, and it seems to me that it would be
good policy, to say the least, to cater to my wishes somewhat."

"What do I care for your wishes? Less than that, if I am doing the right
thing and stand within my own rights;" and he snapped his fingers.

"Perhaps you may be sorry."

"That's my affair."

"Very well. I am to understand that you refuse to move the cattle on