"As they prefer. I will have finished in a few moments." He concluded not to hasten, however, and the ranchers had plenty of time to become impatient. They met him darkly. "We want a word in private, Major," said Jenks, a tall, long-bearded man of most portentous gravity. Curtis led the way to an inner office and offered them seats, which they took in the same oppressive silence. The agent briskly opened the hearing. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?" Jenks looked at Streeter--Streeter nodded. "Go ahead, Hank." Jenks leaned over aggressively. "Your damned Injuns have murdered one o' my herders." Curtis hardened. "What makes you think so?" he sharply asked. "He disappeared more than a week ago, and no one has heard of him since. I know he has been killed, and your Injuns done it. No one--" "Wait a moment," interrupted Curtis. "Who was he?" "His name is Cole--he was herdin' my sheep." "Are you a sheep-man?" "I am." "Where do you live?" "My sheep ranch is over on Horned Toad Creek." "Where was this man when he disappeared?" Jenks grew a little uneasy. "He was camped by the Mud Spring." Curtis rose and called Wilson in. "Wilson, where is the Mud Spring?" "Just inside our south line, about four miles from the school." "I thought so," replied Curtis. "Your sheep were on the reservation. Are you sure this man was murdered?" "Him and the dog disappeared together, and hain't neither of 'em been seen since." "How long ago was this?" "Just a week to-morrow." "Have you made a search for him? Have you studied the ground closely?" Streeter interposed. "We've done all that could be done in that line. I _know_ he's killed. He told Cal about two weeks ago that he had been shot at twice and expected to get wiped out before the summer was over. There isn't a particle of doubt in my mind about it. The thing for you to do is to make a demand--" "I am not in need of instructions as to my duty," interrupted Curtis. "Wilson, who is over from the Willow Creek?" "Old Elk himself." "Send him in. I shall take all means to help you find this herder," Curtis said to the ranchers, "but I cannot allow you to charge my people with his death without greater reason than at present. We must move calmly and without heat in this matter. Murder is a serious charge to make without ample proof." The Elk, smiling and serene, entered the door and stood for a moment searching the countenances of the white men. His face grew grave as the swift signs of his agent filled his mind with the story of the disappearance of the herder. "I am sorry; it is bad business," he said.