In an instant the Captain's wife was on her feet. Her husband's rifle was on the table behind her, and quick as a flash, she levelled it at the intruders. "Out of my house, you dogs!" she cried, and the Indians retreated, pausing outside just long enough to make savage grimaces at the women. The report of the musket brought Ronald and some soldiers to the rescue. "What's up?" he asked, looking from one to the other. It was Katherine who explained, for Mrs. Franklin's courage had deserted her, and she was trembling so she could not speak. "Cheer up, Mamie," said the Ensign--"I'll see to it." Upon his own responsibility, he cleared the Fort of the intruders, closed the south gate, and put a double line of armed sentinels at the north entrance. No sooner was it accomplished than Captain Franklin came out of the offices. "May I ask," he sarcastically inquired of Ronald, "by whose authority you have done this?" The Ensign saluted. "By the authority of a Second Lieutenant who sees the wife of his Captain in danger," he answered stiffly, then turned on his heel and walked away. The two women were sitting on the piazza and the Captain did not share Ronald's fears for their safety. Mackenzie and Black Partridge passed through the line of sentinels and he went to meet them. "He says," began the trader, indicating the chief, "that noon of the sun is too early for the council, but that at the second hour after noon, he and his people will be assembled upon the esplanade, to await the pleasure of the White Father." "Very well," said the Captain, carelessly. Black Partridge went out and the Indians at once began to rally around him. At least a thousand, including the squaws, came out of the woods and were assigned to different stations, according to their rank. The chiefs of the several branches of the Pottawattomies and the chiefs of allied tribes, had places of honour in the front ranks. The braves and young warriors came next, and the squaws were grouped a little way off, by themselves. For fully an hour before the appointed time, the solid phalanx waited in the broiling sun. Some of the squaws sat upon the hot ground, but the braves stood, silent and statuesque, with grim fortitude. The Ensign went to the gate of the Fort and took a long look at the assembly, frankly admitting to himself that he did not like the appearance of it. When he had turned back and had passed the sentinels, Doctor Norton stopped him. "Ronald," he said, in a low tone, "the boys are talking mutiny." The Ensign considered a moment. "How do you know?" "Well, I've overheard two or three significant remarks that seemed to point in the same direction." "Who began it?" "It seems to have started in about fifty places at once." "Do you know the names of the men?" "No, I do not." Ronald knew that the Doctor lied, and respected him for it. "Do you think the boys thought of it by themselves?" "I should judge so--I didn't hear any references to the officers."