Curtis caught Calvin's eye, and a nod, almost imperceptible, passed between them, and the cowboy was aware that the soldier understood the situation. "Where did you leave the Senator?" "At the half-way house." "How was he?" "Feeling well enough to make a speech," replied Calvin. The other team, containing Grismore and the reporters, was by this time but a few rods away, and, watching his opportunity, Curtis signalled: "Stop that wagon--hold them here." Calvin again nodded. "Drive on," called Curtis. And Winters smiled with rare satisfaction. Some miles before reaching the border of the reservation, Two Horns, at a sign from Curtis, left the main road and began to climb a low ridge to the east. The sheriff turned and called sharply: "Where is he going?" "He has his orders, Mr. Sheriff." "He's taking the wrong road. It is five miles farther that way." "He is following my orders." "But I don't see the sense of it." "You are only a passenger. If you don't care to ride with us you can walk," replied Curtis, and the sheriff settled back into his seat with a curse. The second wagon had been left far behind, and would undoubtedly keep the main road, a mishap Curtis had calculated upon. An hour or two of extra travel would not matter, especially as the mob was being left safely on the left. The warning from Elsie had a singular effect upon the soldier. He grew almost gay at the thought of her care of him. In some occult way the little card meant a great deal more than its few words. If they were delayed at the half-way house they might not reach Pinon in time for the afternoon train, and so--"I may see her again." As he neared the boundary of the reservation the sheriff gained in resolution. Looking backward, he saw his own team following, outlined like a rock against the sky, just topping a ridge, and reaching over he laid his hand on the reins and pulled the horses to a stand. "Right here _I_ take charge!" he growled. "I'm on my own ground. Get out o' there!" he said to the prisoner, and as he spoke he drew his revolver and leaped to the ground. Cut Finger turned towards Curtis, whose face was set and stern. "Sit still!" he commanded, with a gesture. "Put up your gun!" he said to Crow, who had drawn his revolver, ready to defend his prisoner. Winters flew into bluster. "Do you defy my authority now? I'm sheriff of this county!" he shouted. "Your control ends right here! This is State territory." Curtis eyed him calmly. "I started out to give this man safe convoy to the prison, and I'm going to do it! Not only that--he is a ward of the government, even when lodged in the county jail, and it is my duty to see that he has fair trial; then, and not till then, will I abandon him to the ferocity of your mob. I know your plan, and I have defeated it. Do you intend to ride with us?"