"Now this is more than I will stand!" he exclaimed, "you cannot ignore me,
Paul Cotter, until such time you choose, and then call me foul names!"

The Spaniard smiled. The sight of Braxton Wyatt's wrath pleased him, but
he put out his hand in a detaining gesture.

"Sit down!" he said in a tone so sharp that Wyatt obeyed. "This is no time
for personal quarrels. As I see it, an embassy has come to us and we must
discuss matters of state. Is it not so, Señor, Señor--"

"Cotter! Paul Cotter is my name."

Paul felt the sneer in the Spaniard's last words, but he hid his
resentment.

"Then your proposition is this," continued Alvarez, "that I and my men
have nothing to do with the Indians, that we make no treaty, no agreement
with them, that we abandon this country and go back to New Orleans. This
you propose despite the fact that the region in which we now are belongs
to Spain."

"I would not put it in quite that fashion," replied Paul calmly.
"I suggest instead that you be our friend. It is natural for the white
races to stand together. I suggest that you send away, also, the messenger
of the tribes who comes seeking your help to slaughter women and children."

Braxton Wyatt half rose, but again he was put down by the restraining
gesture of Francisco Alvarez.

"No personal quarrels, as I stated before," said the Spaniard, "but to