Part 19 (1/2)
Davies for the whole tragedy, but the men, when their tongues are loosened by fever or rum, lay loads of blame elsewhere.”
”Yes?” said Cranston, with deep interest, yet reluctant to talk of regimental scandal with an outsider. ”I should like to know what they say.”
”Well, they say McGrath could tell a tale if he were alive, and that Lutz and the men at the agency believe they were shoved up there because they had said things which First Sergeant Haney overheard and reported to the captain. It seemed queer, even to me, so many men going from Devers's troop under command of somebody else's lieutenant, and now Davies himself has gone, and suppose he should hear of this talk?”
”He will know what to do, chaplain. Davies has earnest friends who will not see him further wronged, but just now, as you probably understand, nothing can be done. Now excuse me a moment. I may have been mistaken, but I thought I saw a man's figure hanging about the back gate of Number Twelve as I came up the bluff from the wood-yard. I thought he went through Davies's yard and that I'd see him crossing the parade when I got to the corner, but not a soul was in sight and it is almost as light as the day. If he didn't go through he must be in the shadows there of the wood-shed. There's been some prowling, and though this isn't the sort of night for that sort of thing, it's still possible. Will you kindly wait here and watch the front and this side while I beat up the rear?”
Wonderingly the chaplain a.s.sented, and, with his sabre clanking at his side, Cranston strode away northward along the line of white picket-fence until he came to the high rear barrier of the row, one of black unplaned boards, and around behind that he disappeared. Across the intervening yard and through the open gate-way at the back the chaplain could see a patch of the snow-clad valley, and watched for the appearance of Cranston's st.u.r.dy form in that silvery gap.
But another eye had also been alert. The very instant the figure of the officer-of-the-day disappeared from view behind the high back fence, out from the shadows of the shed there sprang a lithe, slender form, clad in soldier overcoat, and, in less time than it takes to tell it, around it darted behind the shed, was one instant poised at the top of the fence that separated the yard of Davies's quarters from that of their next-door neighbor, then noiselessly dropped out of sight on the other side. The next minute Cranston appeared in the gap.
Instead of shouting, fearful of disturbing the inmates, the chaplain quit his post, hastened along the front to Davies's gate and around the house to the rear, where he found Cranston searching.
”There was a man. I saw him. He leaped the fence into the next yard. A tall, slender fellow.”
But search in there and in its fellows revealed nothing. The prowler had had time to skip from yard to yard, and nothing short of the services of the entire guard would be apt to result in his capture.
”I wish you had shouted to me. I could have grabbed him in Hay's yard,”
said Cranston.
”Well, I didn't like to for fear of startling Mrs. Davies,” said the chaplain, simply, and Cranston glanced quickly and queerly up at him from under the visor of the little cavalry cap.
”Why, she----” he began, then checked himself abruptly.
”Could you give no description of him? Did he leave no trace?” asked Captain Devers at the office next morning when the old officer-of-the-day made his report.
”No, sir, but the chaplain might. He saw him plainly,--said he was tall and slender.”
And Captain Devers replied,--
”Very good, sir. You're relieved,” and then turned to the new inc.u.mbent, Captain Rogers, of the infantry: ”I wish especial attention given to this matter, Captain Rogers, and probably I shall take a turn with you to-night after twelve.”
But that night long after twelve the whole post took a turn. It was towards four A.M. when the telegraph operator, who slept always beside his instrument, came banging at the door of ”A” Troop's office. It was opened by an indignant Irish sergeant. ”Go rout out the captain at once.
You know how to rouse him and I don't. There's h.e.l.l to pay and the whole crowd wanted.” And Haney, who would have d.a.m.ned his impudence another time, donned his clothes without an instant's delay, and together they ran across the parade and brought up with a bang at Devers's storm-door.
Agatha Loomis was probably a light sleeper. It was her tap at the Cranstons' room that first roused them.
”What is it?” cried Margaret, up in an instant and filled with no other apprehension than that of more sore throat or cough in the nursery.
”There's some excitement and running about the post. The office is lighted and people are hurrying over there.”
Cranston looked at his watch,--4.15. Peering out of the dormer-window at the front, he could see dark forms scurrying across the parade and lights beginning to pop up here and there and everywhere along the row of barracks. Hurriedly donning his stable dress and furs, he went down to the hall-way, Margaret, pale and silent now, following. A man was knocking at the door of the adjoining quarters, and Cranston recognized the form of Lieutenant Jervis. ”What's up?” he queried.
”Big row at the agency,” came the murmured reply. ”Reckon most everybody will have to go.” And though he spoke in low, guarded tone, Margaret heard, and then clung to her husband's arm.
”Again! so soon?” she cried. ”Oh, G.o.d! Are we never to know one-half year of peace?”
Cranston led her into the warm little parlor and took her in his arms.
”I must go to head-quarters at once,” he whispered. ”Doubtless I should have been there before; but don't borrow trouble, Meg, dear, wait until I know what's to be done.” Then he left her with Agatha and went his way.
The office was crowded. Devers sat in the colonel's chair pencilling despatches to be sent to department head-quarters. Around him, sitting or standing, were most of the officers of the garrison, either silently regarding him or chatting in low tone. All that was known was that Sam Poole, one of the best and most daring scouts employed at the agency, had ridden into Braska about three o'clock, his horse nearly spent, with the news that the whole gang of Sioux had risen in revolt and attacked the agent. He left at 8.15 Friday night with McPhail's plea for instant help and all they could send of it, but so deep were the drifts in places and so exhausted was his horse that it had taken him all that time to reach the railway. The wire was still down and he bore the latest news. There could be no mistake: the attack had fairly begun before he was out of hearing. The volleying and yelling beat anything he'd heard since the battle at Slim b.u.t.tes in September. The quartermaster in charge of the depot at Braska had despatches wired at once to Omaha and another out to the fort. Devers was up in a few minutes and had sent his orderly for certain of the officers, and the noise of ringing or knocking along the row had roused others. Cranston and Hay were not of those sent for, but Devers explained that he took it for granted they were prepared to take the field with their troops at a moment's notice, and did not care to disturb them until he knew what they would be required to do. It would be several hours before orders could reach them from Omaha, he reasoned, and he had no idea what the orders would be. The whole command might be sent, or none of it.