Finally after they had reached the front room of the Lambert home, and
the conversation had taken on a still more confidential turn, Mr.
Lambert wheeled on his guest, and in tones not meant to inspire the
greatest confidence, almost shouted to Macauley, these words: "Do you
mean to come here and make a proposition for me to build you a hiding
place to put your stolen Indian goods in, over my name and signature?
Now, sir, your proposition would place Bob Lambert in the guard house,
while you, the man who steals these goods--you have as much as said that
they were sent here for the Indians--you would go free." Bob Lambert was
a mad animal when he was mad, and on he went, thundering like a bull who
had suddenly beheld a red umbrella: "Macauley, you dog! the goods you
are withholding from these Indians are causing trouble along the whole
frontier, and it will amount to a bloody battle with these ignorant
people; but, I say to you, these Indians are not ignorant of the fact
that it is you who are stealing their stuff. Nevertheless, the whole
white tribe will suffer through your dishonesty. These Indians have a
right to protect their rights, but in so doing, they may do depredations
in the wrong place." Mr. Macauley tried several times to pacify Mr.
Lambert; to tell him that he had misinterpreted his proposition. He
wanted to explain himself further and more fully, but Mr. Lambert would
have none of it, and told him to get himself out of his house, away from
his premises, and to remain away.

While Mr. Macauley was hesitating, Mr. Lambert drew his pistol and with
one word, that sounded like a roar from a mighty lion, said, "Go!" Mr.
Macauley turned to leave, and Lambert yelled after him: "Run, you thief,
get up and hurry, or I will fill your legs full of lead;" and
Macauley did run.