Matthews, facing
the crowd. His left hand held the cigar-box against his chest, his right
was up and empty.

"Hold on, boys!" It was Lounsbury.

As if he had caught a cue, the foremost trooper--he who had been the
disturbing element--repeated the cry, and directed the eyes of his
comrades to the door.

There was a sudden lull. The men in blue wavered. Here and there, a
revolver was covertly returned to place.

Lounsbury pushed forward to the stove, Fraser beside him. "Hold on,
boys," he said again, and pointed at Matthews; "hold on--I've got a
message for that man."

The lull became a dead silence. To the troopers, the sight of
shoulder-straps was discomfiting. For the officer at once became the
personification of the guard-room, chilly, poorly bedded, and worse
provisioned, of all places the one to be dreaded in raw weather. To
Matthews, the interruption was welcome. His right hand slowly lowered
to join its mate.

"I'm going to ask you to call your little differences with that
gentleman off," continued Lounsbury.

Matthews fairly blinked. The storekeeper's voice was soft, confidential,
ingratiating.

"Mr. Fraser and I have come to say that Mr. Matthews is wanted to serve
as interpreter for Colonel Cummings."

"Interpreter?" queried Matthews.

A bullet-head made itself visible from behind a barrel. "Don't let him
bluff y', Nick," called a voice.

The other looked round. "Shut y' fly-trap, Babe," he commanded.

"Thank you," said Lounsbury, pleasantly, "interpreter is right. Two
white women are held as captives in an Uncapapa camp somewhere west of
here. It's been learned that you understand and speak the tongue. So, we
present Colonel Cummings' compliments. He would like very much to have a
talk with you at Brannon."

It was a solution to Matthews. "Yes? Yes?" he said approvingly; then
hesitated in suspicion as he measured the storekeeper.

"Oh, I guess I don't want to be no interpreter," he said.

Lounsbury smiled. "Just as you say, just as you say.
Boys,"--cheerily--"sorry if I cut in at the wrong time. Don't let us
stop your fun. Mr. Fraser is not here _officially_."

A murmur ran around. The disturbing trooper advanced toward Matthews
aggressively.

Up went Matthews' hand again. "Jus' a minute," he said.

The trooper quieted.

Matthews turned to Fraser, mustering an expression of importance.

"Lieutenant," he said, "you give me your word this is so--that there
ain't no put-up job about i