Part 14 (2/2)

IX.

Peaceful as was his rest, Drummond slept only an hour or so. For months he had lived in the open air, ”on the war-path” said his captain, a veteran who had won his spurs twice over in the war of the rebellion, and declared himself quite ready to take his ease now and let the youngsters see for themselves the hollowness of military glory. Weariness and physical exhaustion had lent their claims, and despite bruises and many a pang, despite the realization of the presence of the fair girls whom his dash and energy had rescued from robber hands, the young fellow had dozed away into dreamland. Why not?

The object of his mission was accomplished. f.a.n.n.y and Ruth Harvey were safe. All that was left for the party to do now was rest in quiet until another morn, then it would be quite possible to start on the return without waiting for the coming of their friends. Before sunset his men would be rea.s.sembled; they could have a long night's sleep, and with the rising of the morrow's sun, convoying their three wagons and their recaptured treasures, the little detachment would take the back track for the Tucson road, confident of meeting ”old Harvey”

and, probably, a doctor on the way. He himself, though most in need of surgical attention when they reached the caves, had such confidence in the skill of Sergeant Wing as to feel that his arm was set as perfectly as could be done by almost any other pract.i.tioner, and before dropping off to sleep had quite determined that he would make the morning march in saddle.

Still, he could not sleep for any great length of time. The instinct of vigilance and the sense of responsibility would not leave him. In his half-dreaming, half-waking state, he once thought he heard a light foot-fall, and presently as he dozed with eyelids shut there came a soft touch upon his temple. Lifting his hand he seized that of his visitor,--f.a.n.n.y Harvey.

”Why are you not resting?” he asked, ”and where is Ruth?”

”Ruth is sleeping, as we hoped you might be. 'Tired Nature's sweet restorer' is all you need, Mr. Drummond, yet you do not seem to have had more than a cat nap. Twice I have stolen in here to see you, and then, though I was fearful of waking you, you slept peacefully through it all.”

”Well, I must have slept a couple of hours anyway, and I slept soundly until within the last few minutes. Have none of the men got back yet, Miss Harvey? Do you know what time it is? I suppose Wing is sleeping.”

”Mr. Wing ought to be sleeping, but he isn't. The sentry--Patterson I think they call him--summoned him up to the lookout there in the rocks, oh, about an hour ago, and when the sergeant came back he mounted his horse and rode away down the canon. He said there was something requiring his attention. But you are to drink this chocolate and lie still.”

Drummond slowly strove to rise. He was too anxious, too nervous, to remain where he was.

”And none of them have returned yet?” he asked. ”I cannot understand that. No, please do not strive to detain me here. I'm perfectly able to be up and about, and if Wing is gone it's my business to look after things.”

Over among the rocks across the narrow canon the first object to meet his gaze as he arose was Moreno, reclining there bound and helpless, while near at hand a soldier had thrown himself on his saddle blanket and was sound asleep. The plash of the waters in the brook, dancing and tumbling down the chasm, made sweet, drowsing music for his ears, a lulling, soothing sound that explained perhaps the deep slumber of his trooper friend.

”I heard Mr. Wing tell that man to lie down and sleep,” said Miss Harvey, as the young officer's eyes seemed to darken with menace at the sight of a sentry sleeping on guard. ”Moreno is securely tied, and both Patterson up there and I here are now his keepers. The senora and her daughter are in the other cave, forbidden to go near him.”

Glancing up at the stunted cedar where Patterson stood faithful to his trust, Drummond saw that he was peering steadily southward through the black field-gla.s.ses.

”What do you see, Patterson?” he hailed. ”Where is Wing? Any of the men coming back?”

”Wing has gone on down the valley, sir. Some of our fellows, two or three only, were coming back, but they didn't come fast enough to suit him. The ambulance will be here in a minute or two,--it's just below us down the canon now.”

Indeed, almost at the moment the click of iron-shod hoofs was heard, and the dejected mule-team came into view around a jutting point, the dingy yellow ambulance jolting after them, one soldier in the driver's seat handling the reins, the other riding behind and leading his comrade's horse.

”Come up here to the mouth of the cave, Merrill,” called the lieutenant. ”You can unhitch and unharness just beyond; but I want that safe unloaded and put in here.”

”The safe's gone, sir.”

”What?”

”The safe's gone, sir. We never got it. That's what took Sergeant Wing off down the valley, I reckon. I supposed you knew it, sir, and him, too, but he didn't. Those Morales fellows got away with it on burro-back while we were chasing the white wagon.”

For a moment Drummond stood astounded.

”Man alive!” he at last exclaimed, ”why was I not told of this? Get me a horse at once, Walsh,” he ordered. ”I'll take Patterson's. You two remain here and see that that old scoundrel don't get loose,--Moreno there,--and that no harm befall the ladies. I'll ride down after Wing.”

”Oh, Mr. Drummond, you must not think of going,” exclaimed Miss Harvey. ”You're far too seriously hurt, far too weak, to attempt such a thing. Please lie down again. Surely Mr. Wing will do all that any man could do to recover the safe. All the others are in pursuit. They must have overtaken them by this time. Come; I am doctor now that he is away. Obey me and lie still.”

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