Several voices spoke almost at once.
"Is that right ?" "Oh, say, I saw the fellow with his hand on the knife." "After we git the chap, we 'll give them people a chance to tell what they know." Brant's keenly attentive ears heard the far-off chug of numerous horses' feet.
"I rather think you will," he said, confidently, his voice ringing out with sudden authority.
He stepped back, lifted a silver whistle to his lips, and sounded one sharp, clear note.

There was a growing thunder of hoofs, a quick, manly cheer, a crashing through the underbrush, and a squad of eager troopers, half-dressed but with faces glowing in anticipation of trouble, came galloping up the slope, swinging out into line as they advanced, their carbines gleaming in the sunlight.

It was prettily, sharply performed, and their officer's face brightened.
"Very nicely done, Watson," he said to the expectant sergeant.

"Deploy your men to left and right, and clear out those shooters.

Make a good job of it, but no firing unless you have to." The troopers went at it as if they enjoyed the task, forcing their restive horses through the thickets, and roughly handling more than one who ventured to question their authority.