“I'll tell you whose they are,” he said, as he took the weapon from Setting Sun's hand.
“Well do I know these shootin'-irons,” and he held the weapons over his head.
Then Tanglefoot rose erect in the stirrups, and his right hand was suddenly extended till the dyed finger pointed straight at the form of Midnight Jack.
“Thar stands afore us the man who hid the pistols!” he cried. “He could not pull the wool over Tanglefoot's eyes. Come out an' face the music. An' thar hangs the other, playin' Injun, an' foolin' ye all!”
Tanglefoot's arm described a crescent, and the finger was now pointing at the Red Jingo hanging apparently lifeless from the torture-cord.
Midnight Jack had advanced a pace from his position.
There was now a flash in his eyes, which few who noticed it had never seen before.
“I am here!” he cried, in the Sioux tongue, “and YOU are THERE!”
The road-agent's right hand shot upward as he spoke the last sentence, and the final word was drowned by the loud report of his revolver.
The crack was followed by a loud cry; the uplifted silver-mounted pistol fell over the pony's head, and old Tanglefoot, with a headlong pitch, went to the ground.
Rube Rattler straightened in an instant, for he had witnessed the entire tragedy.
“Stand back!” said the road-agent, calmly, wheeling upon the yelling redskins, now surging forward. “What is that white-livered dog that he should live a chief among the Sioux with his hands reddened with our brother's blood? Let him be thrown to the buzzards that watch in the sky for the carrion. Will our brethren listen, or must Running Water, to defend the deed, which by Indian law he has righteously done, shoot them down, and then die himself, knife in hand, upon them?”
The road-agent's words, uttered in good Sioux, had a startling effect.
They stayed the excited crowd; the wild cries for blood grew still; and Setting Sun advanced toward the daring man.
“Go on!” cried the chief. “We will listen to our Teton brother.”
“I have but little to say,” was the response, the speaker's eyes dancing with delight at the triumph he had gained. “Squatting Bear came to our lodges long ago. He brought a cargo of fire-water among us. He lived with us till he married one of our women, but we would not call him chief. In the land of the Teton Sioux he began to steal; he treated his Indian wife badly, and one night he slew her in the little wigwam; not only that, but he slew a brother. The red wife was Running Water's sister. He swore revenge; he has trailed the white Sioux night and day—he and his brother, the Red Jingo. He has been found, and the fire-water chief lies dead before you. It is the law of the red-man that the nearest of kin must avenge. We have done that; in the camp of the southern Sioux we have appeased our sister's spirit. What say Setting Sun and the chiefs? Has Running Water broken the laws that our fathers made long ago?”