Albumblatt, with Sergeant Casey and a detail of six men, was in truth hastening over that broad mile which opens between Fort Brown and the Agency. On either side of them the level plain stretched, gray with its sage, buff with intervening grass, hay-cocked with the smoky, mellow-stained, meerschaum-like canvas tepees of the Indians, quiet as a painting; far eastward lay long, low, rose-red hills, half dissolved in the trembling mystery of sun and distance; and westward, close at hand and high, shone the great pale-blue serene mountains through the vaster serenity of the air. The sounding hoofs of the troops brought the Indians out of their tepees to see. When Albumblatt reached the Agency, there waited the agent and his two chiefs, who pointed to one lodge standing apart some three hundred yards, and said, “He is there.” So then Augustus beheld his problem, the military duty fallen to him from Providence and Captain Duane. It seems elementary for him who has written of “The Contact Squadron.” It was to arrest one Indian. This man, Ute Jack, had done a murder among the Crows, and fled south for shelter. The telegram heralded him, but with boundless miles for hiding he had stolen in under the cover of night. No welcome met him. These Fort Brown Indians were not his friends at any time, and less so now, when he arrived wild drunk among their families. Hounded out, he sought this empty lodge, and here he was, at bay, his hand against every man's, counting his own life worthless except for destroying others before he must himself die. “Is he armed?” Albumblatt inquired, and was told yes. Augustus considered the peaked cone tent. The opening was on this side, but a canvas drop closed it. Not much of a problem--one man inside a sack with eight outside to catch him! But the books gave no rule for this combination, and Augustus had met with nothing of the sort in Germany. He considered at some length. Smoke began to rise through the meeting poles of the tepee, leisurely and natural, and one of the chiefs said: “Maybe Ute Jack cooking. He hungry.” “This is not a laughing matter,” said Augustus to the by-standers, who were swiftly gathering. “Tell him that I command him to surrender,” he added to the agent, who shouted this forthwith; and silence followed. “Tell him I say he must come out at once,” said Augustus then; and received further silence. “He eat now,” observed the chief. “Can't talk much.” “Sergeant Casey,” bellowed Albumblatt, “go over there and take him out!” “The Lootenant understands,” said Casey, slowly, “that Ute Jack has got the drop on us, and there ain't no getting any drop on him.” “Sergeant, you will execute your orders without further comment.” At this amazing step the silence fell cold indeed; but Augustus was in command. “Shall I take any men along, sir?” said Casey in his soldier's machine voice. “Er--yes. Er--no. Er--do as you please.”