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Updated: June 25, 2025
"I'm afraid we cannot spare any more." "Jeerupiter, General!" exclaimed Mr. Cadwaller. "I'll wait outside the reserve till this picnic's over. Say, General, let's have twenty-five men at least." "What do you say, Inspector Dickson? Will two men be sufficient?" "We'll try, Sir," replied the Inspector. "How soon can you be ready?" "In a quarter of an hour." "Jeerupiter!" muttered Mr.
"Allowed four times the territory, about the same number of Indians and about one-eighth the number of police. Say, General, I take off my hat again. Put it there! You Canucks have got the trick sure!" "Easier to care for 'em than kill 'em, I guess," said Mr. Raimes casually. "But, say, General," continued Mr. Cadwaller, "you ain't goin' to send for them hosses with no three men?"
My name's J. B. Cadwaller, Lone Pine, Montana. "Take your hat off in the court!" said the orderly sharply. Mr. Cadwaller slowly surveyed the orderly with an expression of interested curiosity in his eyes, removing his hat as he did so. "Say, you're pretty swift, ain't yuh? You might give a feller a show to git in his interductions," said Mr. Cadwaller.
Cadwaller to himself, as he followed the Inspector out of the room. "I say, Commissioner, will you let me in on this thing?" said Cameron. "Do you mean that you want to join the force?" enquired the Commissioner, letting his eye run approvingly up and down Cameron's figure. "There is McIvor, Sir " began Cameron. "Oh, I could fix that all right," replied the Commissioner.
In a moment, with a single plunge, the Inspector was at his side and, flinging off the Indian, shouted: "Put up that gun, Mr. Cadwaller! Quick!" Mr. Cadwaller hesitated. "Sergeant Crisp, arrest that man!" The Inspector's voice rang out like a trumpet. His gun covered Mr. Cadwaller. "Give me that gun!" said the Sergeant. Mr. Cadwaller handed over his gun.
"My brother knows," he added, "the Police do not lie." So saying, he wheeled his horse and, with Mr. Cadwaller before him, rode off after the others of the party, who had by this time gone some distance up the trail. For a few moments hesitation held the crowd, then with a loud cry White Horse galloped up and again seized Mr. Cadwaller's bridle. Instantly the Inspector covered him with his gun.
"Oh, no, they are a very good lot on the whole." "Good! We've got a lot of good Indians too, but they're all under graound. Five hundred men! Jeerupiter! Say, Sligh, how many soldiers does Uncle Sam have on this job?" "Well, I can't say altogether, but in Montana and Dakota I happen to know we have about four thousand regulars." "Say, figger that out, will yuh?" continued Mr. Cadwaller.
Cadwaller, and here take your own but wait for the word. Forward!" He had not gone a pace till he was surrounded by a score of angry and determined Indians with levelled rifles. For the first time the Inspector hesitated. Through the line of levelled rifles Chief Red Crow rode up and in a grave but determined voice said: "My brother is wrong. White Horse, chief. My young men not let him go."
"The Police never break a promise to white man or Indian." Then Mr. Cadwaller cut loose for a few moments. He did not object to waiting any length of time to oblige a friend, but that he should delay his journey to answer the charges of an Indian, variously and picturesquely described, was to him an unthinkable proposition.
"Why, to sur raound them there Indians." The regulations of the court room considerably hampered Mr. Cadwaller's fluency of speech. "It is not necessary at all, Mr. Cadwaller. Besides, we have only some eighty men all told at this post. Our whole force in the territories is less than five hundred men." "Five hundred men! You mean for this State, General Alberta?" "No, Sir. For all Western Canada.
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