And you'll now bring me where your outfit
is. March!"
The pistol was still in his hand, and he had a determined look in his
eye. Lambton saw it. He was aware of how much power lay in the
threatening face before him, and how eager that power was to make itself
felt, and provide "Examples"; but he took his chances.
"I'll march all right," he answered, "but I'll march to where you tell
me. You can't have it both ways. You can take me, because you've found
me, and you can take my outfit too when you've found it; but I'm not
doing your work, not if I know it."
There was a blaze of anger in the eyes of the officer, and it looked for
an instant as though something of the lawlessness of the border was going
to mark the first step of the Law in the Wilderness, but he bethought
himself in time, and said quietly, yet in a voice which Lambton knew he
must heed:
"Put on your things-quick."
When this was accomplished, and MacFee had secured the smuggler's
pistols, he said again, "March, Lambton."
Lambton marched through the moonlit night towards the troop of men who
had come to set up the flag of order in the plains and hills, and as he
went his keen ear heard his own mules galloping away down towards the
Barfleur Coulee.
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