Yet it did not come, and the sun rose on a scene of perfect peace and quiet.
But at eight o clock a sentinel announced a horseman approaching, bearing a white flag.
"So they want to talk, eh?" said the young captain. "All right, anything to gain time."
The flag of truce was promptly answered, and as the horseman came closer many recognized Matt Gilroy. The young captain went out himself to meet the leader of the desperadoes.
"Good-morning, Captain Moore," began the desperado, with a regular military salute.
"What brings you?" demanded the captain abruptly.
"Well, I thought we had best come to terms—that's what brought me."
"Terms about what, Gilroy?"
"Terms about surrendering the fort and all of its contents."
"Surrendering? To whom?"
"You know well enough, Captain Moore. It will be only a waste of time to beat about the bush. Our crowd and the Indians now number over three hundred, and we are bound to get possession of the fort and all that is in it."
"Do you speak for the Indians as well as for yoruself?"
"I do."
