Part 16 (1/2)

”Yes, sir. I got the order, sir, last night,” said Haney, forgetful in Cranston's presence of the impulse to be flippant, and unconsciously revealing just exactly what his captain meant to conceal. Davies turned and looked at Cranston, and the latter, with a peculiar smile, linked his arm in that of his friend and, carefully avoiding the spot where Devers now stood watching them, led him away.

This for a starter was significant, but more was to come. Guard mounting was hurried through that morning, for the air was sharply cold and a northerly wind was beginning to moan through the garrison and whirl the snow in drifts over the desolate prairie. Captains Truman and Pollock, the former as old and the latter as new officer of the day, appeared in fur caps and heavy overcoats and stood at the desk where Colonel Pegleg for months past had administered the affairs of the post. The former raised his hand in salute as he said, ”I report as old officer of the day, sir,” and tendered the guard report. Devers glanced at once at the list of prisoners. Foremost were the familiar names of the old stagers, the general prisoners undergoing sentence of court-martial. Then those of the men sentenced to brief confinement by the minor or garrison court. Then came the names of those awaiting trial, and opposite each name in the column headed ”Charges” was the word ”Preferred,” as was the custom of the day, and this significant word appeared opposite the next to the last name on the list, that of Howard, Troop ”A.”

”Ah! What is the nature of the charges against prisoner Howard?” asked Devers, blandly.

”I haven't seen them, sir. I understand that they were prepared by Lieutenant Sanders as directed by Colonel Stone.”

Devers tapped his bell and the orderly sprang in. ”My compliments to the adjutant,” said he, and from the adjoining room, grave, stolid, and imperturbable as ever, Leonard came in, pencil in hand, and stood at attention without a word.

”Mr. Leonard, have charges been preferred against Trooper Howard?”

”Yes, sir. Desertion. The specification alleges that he was caught aboard the west-bound train at Braska in civilian dress Monday evening.”

”Anything else?”

”No, sir.”

”Captain Pollock, you may release Howard. He was in town with my approbation and a.s.sent, looking for an absentee whose haunts he knew and whose presence was required here. He says he boarded the train expecting possibly to find him thereon, and wore civilian dress because his uniform might have caused his rejection at places he wished to search.”

Captain Pollock touched his cap without a word.

”You will also see that Paine and Brannan, recently confined, are sent out to work with the police cart. Other orders as usual. You are relieved, Captain Truman. That is all, Mr. Leonard.”

The talk that ensued among the officers of the calvary command when this matter was detailed at the club room will have to be condensed. Davies was not present. He never went there. Cranston was present for the first time in weeks, for it was an establishment for which ordinarily he had no use. He and Truman went thither because they knew that that was where Sanders could be found, and there they found him. It was barely ten o'clock, but this light-hearted young gentleman, together with three or four kindred spirits of the Fortieth, was discussing, to the accompaniment of hot Scotch, the relative values of hands dealt at random from a grimy deck. That they should have taken to hot Scotch at such an hour they explained by the statement that as they had to be up with the dawn the day was already old, and that they should be playing poker they didn't consider a matter calling for explanation of any kind.

It was ”a way they had in the army” in those days when the other three-quarters of the year was spent in sharp campaigning. Sanders cheerfully dropped his hand as he had his money and told his story like a little man.

”We trotted or galloped all the way to town and found Paine soon after six, drunk, of course,--too drunk to ride the spare horse, so while we were waiting for an ambulance from the quartermaster's depot, I ran over to the Cattle Club for a drink, and was chatting there with Willett and Burtis,--by the way, I asked them both to drive out and dine with us to-night and take in the hop later,--and presently in came a couple of cattlemen from Cheyenne who knew everybody at Russell and were jolly, pleasant fellows. They were going up on the evening freight, and we loaded up a lunch-basket and went down to the depot to see them off in the caboose. The Braska crowd did their best to send them home full, and they were full, and nothing would do but we must go into the bar and drink Roederer with them until the conductor came rus.h.i.+ng in to say all aboard. Then they snaked me on to the caboose platform when the train was under way, pulled me inside and ran me half a mile up the track before they could stop her again. But that half-mile did the business for Mr. Howard. There he was spruce and dandified as you please, dressed fit to kill in a bang-up better suit than I ever hope to own, trying to sit behind a newspaper. They pulled Burtis aboard, too, and in the scuffle he fell all over Howard, knocked his hat off, and I knew the face in a second, and when I came off that car he came with me, by the scruff of his neck, swearing and protesting and denying that he was Howard, and threatening to have the law on me and appealing to the cattlemen for rescue. By Jupiter, if it wasn't that I had been with them long enough to make a favorable impression they would have rescued him, too. They didn't half want to let him go, and he straggled hard to get away as it was.”

Then Truman told him what Devers's orders and remarks were, and Sanders fairly blazed with wrath. ”It's the maddest kind of a lie,” said he.

”That fellow had never looked for Paine or thought of such a thing. We found where he had left his uniform and where he kept in hiding until time to skip out and catch that train. He wasn't looking for anybody and didn't care to see or be seen by anybody. If it wasn't a clear-cut case of desertion may I be hanged. He had over two hundred dollars in his clothes and fresh duds in his grip-sack.”

Long before mid-day, therefore, Sanders's words were being repeated from mouth to mouth, and Trooper Howard, with pale face and starting eyes, was shut up in the company office where only the captain and Sergeant Haney could get at him, and Devers was there with his sergeant and clerk, when just at 10.45 the telegraph operator came bulging into Mr.

Leonard's office.

”An important despatch,” said he, ”for the commanding officer.”

Leonard took it, then hesitated. Under Colonel Stone his instructions were to open and read at once, but the relations between him and the captain temporarily in command were neither confidential nor cordial.

”Take it to Captain Devers,” said he, ”and I will wait.”

Devers read the despatch with kindling eye. It was from department head-quarters at Omaha, and said briefly,--

”Send a discreet officer with twenty cavalrymen for temporary duty with Boynton at the agency at once. Report action by wire.”

For a few minutes the captain sat in deep thought, then with head erect, and with quick, confident step, left the barracks and went straight to the adjutant's office. ”Orderly,” said he, ”my compliments to Mr. Davies and say I wish to see him at once.”

And so only a little more than an hour later, knowing absolutely nothing of what might be going on at the agency, judging only from the reports of the mail-carrier that there had been trouble between the agent and some of Red Dog's people, and that the agent had determined to make arrests, leaving his bride wildly weeping and protesting in the hands of her devoted friends Mesdames Flight and Darling, yet commending her to the guardians.h.i.+p of Captain and Mrs. Cranston, Percy Davies set forth upon a bitter, wintry march of eighty miles, answering the call of duty at the front, leaving wife and fireside, good name and character, to the care of friends or foes who remained.

CHAPTER XVII.

Long remembered at Fort Scott was the evening that followed Mr. Davies's departure for the agency. Infantry and cavalry both, the garrison took it much to heart that the detail should have devolved, of all men, upon him. Not because he was comparatively young and inexperienced; not because he was just back from long leave that had been necessitated by long and serious illness, but solely and entirely because he had but recently married a wife, and therefore shouldn't have been expected to go,--should not have been torn from her side. The women opened the ball, but the men were not slow in taking the floor. What Davies himself might think no one knew, because Davies would not say. He received the order of the post commander without a word, went home to his wife and sent Barnickel to ask Captain Cranston to come to him as soon as possible.