Part 46 (1/2)

Desert Dust Edwin L. Sabin 23080K 2022-07-22

She cried to me, from my feet.

”You didn't do it! You didn't do it!”

”We're saved,” I blatted. ”Hurrah! We're saved! The soldiers are here.”

Again the trumpet pealed, lilting silvery. She tottered up, clinging to me. She stared. She released me, and to my gladly questing gaze her face was very white, her eyes struggling for comprehension, like those of one awakened from a dream.

”I must go back to Benton,” she faltered. ”I shall never get away from Benton.”

We stood mute while the blue-coats raced on with hearty cheers and brave clank of saber and canteen. We were sitting composedly when the lieutenant scrambled to us, among our rocks; the troopers followed, curiously scanning.

His stubbled red face, dust-smeared, queried us keenly; so did his curt voice.

”Just in time?”

”In time,” I croaked. ”Water! For her--for me.”

There was a canteen apiece. We sucked.

”You are the two from the Mormon wagon train?” he asked.

”Yes, sir. You know?” I uttered.

”We came on as fast as we could. The Sioux are raiding again. By G.o.d, you had a narrow squeak, sir,” he reproved. ”You were crazy to try it--you and a woman, alone. We'll take you along as soon as my p.a.w.nees get in from chasing those beggars.”

Distant whoops from a pursuit drifted in to us, out of the desert.

”Captain Adams sent you?” I inquired.

”Yes, sir.”

”I will go back,” I agreed. ”I will go back, but there's no need of Mrs.

Montoyo. If you could see her safely landed at a stage station, and for Benton----?”

”We'll land you both. I have to report at Bridger. The train is all right.

It has an escort to Bitter Creek.”

”I can overtake it, or join it,” said I. ”But the lady goes to Benton.”

”Yes, yes,” he snapped. ”That's nothing to me, of course. But you'll do better to wait for the train at Bridger, Mr. ----? I don't believe I have your name?”

”Beeson,” I informed, astonished.

”And the lady's? Your sister? Wife?”

”Mrs. Montoyo,” I informed. And I repeated, that there should be no misunderstanding. ”Mrs. Montoyo, from Benton. No relative, sir.”

He pa.s.sed it over, as a gentleman should.