Part 3 (1/2)

Colonel Boone who was a whole-hearted, ”hail fellow well met” sort of a man, invited them to come in and to put their horses in the barn and to give them one really good feed, remarking at the same time that they had better remove their saddles and allow the horses to cool off.

One soldier, without a first thought, began to throw his saddle off, but was quickly prevented by a quicker witted soldier, but the action was not quick enough. Colonel Boone had observed without appearing to do so, the normal condition of the back of the horse, and something had flown to his mind, that ”all was not right on the Wabash,” and he concluded to keep cool. Something told him that they were agents of Mr. Haynes, and were on mischief bent.

After caring well for the horses, the soldiers were invited to the house where they went to the back porch and refreshed themselves with clean cistern water and fresh towels. While they were getting ”slicked up” as some of the soldiers jokingly called their face wash, Colonel Boone called the old negro woman to bring a pitcher of whiskey, gla.s.ses, sugar, nutmeg, and eggs, and make them a rich toddy. When this was done, Colonel Boone with a lavish hand distributed it generously among his guests, after which they were escorted through the old-fas.h.i.+oned long hall to the front porch where they rested and awaited the good dinner already in progress for them.

Mrs. Boone was sick in bed, and one or two of the soldiers seeing some one in bed, and more to find out who was there than anything else, sauntered into the room and up to the bed. As soon as he saw he had made a mistake, he quickly apologized and retreated to the front porch, where, to cover his embarra.s.sment, he asked how far it was to Haynes'.

Boone told him it was seven miles.

Fearing the soldiers would become restless by their prolonged wait for dinner, Colonel Boone went into the house and told his two daughters, Maggie and Mollie, to help the old negro lady get dinner, and to stay in the dining room during the dinner hour and wait on the soldiers, and be as pleasant as possible with them. He told the girls that he was afraid the soldiers were messengers of mischief, sent there at the suggestion of Mr. Haynes, but that he had not decided just what they intended to do. It was the idea of Colonel Boone to make the whiskey draw the object of this visit to him, from his guests, and some of the more talkative ones had already begun to divulge their business. The Colonel decided to leave them alone so they could consult with themselves, so busied himself about the house making his visitors comfortable wherever he could. He stopped in the living room and listened to the conversation going on between the soldiers out on the porch, which conversation sometimes developed into an argument about Mr. Haynes and the Lieutenant, the full import of which he could not glean. Then he returned to the porch, in a round-about way, brought up the subject of distance, from his place to Haynes. He then said: ”Mr. Haynes had an ill-feeling toward me, and I have been told that he is circulating a report that I am a rebel, and that he intends to do me bodily harm.” One soldier was in good condition then to talk--the toddy had done its work well--and he said: ”I gad, Colonel, you ah jes' about right----;” but he could get no further. One soldier had closed his mouth, with the remark to Colonel Boone, that some soldiers never knew what they were talking about, when they had enjoyed a good gla.s.s of whiskey. The Colonel laughed as though the subject was of no importance to him and strolled out in the yard. Just then Mollie Boone appeared at the dining room door with a cheery smile, beguiling as the flower in her hair was fragrant, and with a ”welcome, gentlemen, to the Boone home,” in her comely face, bade them all go in to dinner. At the dinner table wit and mirth flowed as freely as did the water down the throats of those hungry boys in blue.

When these boys had partaken of this bounty to their full satisfaction, they thanked the pretty waitresses for the excellent dinner. The daughters followed them from the dining room begging them to never pa.s.s this way without coming in to see them, and promising to have a feast prepared for them. They departed, the girls returning to the dining room to peep behind curtains to watch the manly soldiers disappear around the house, to the stables where their horses were still munching the hay, caring nothing at all about returning to the station at Haynes'.

The next trip I made to Bent's Fort was made without a conductor on the stage. One of the owners of the Stage Company, Mr. J.T. Barnum, said to me: ”Billy, you go through to Denver with the express and mail, and then act as conductor back again to the Fort.”

On my return trip, I came in contact with a company of soldiers camped at Pueblo, Colorado. Several of the soldiers were at the Hotel at Pueblo, and during our talk together, I asked one of the soldiers if he knew a Sergeant by the name of Joe Graham. ”Oh, yes,” one man replied, ”he is down there in camp now.” This soldier volunteered to bring him to see me.

Mr. Graham's father was a Methodist preacher in Monterey, New York, when Joe and I were small boys, and we greeted each other with warmth and affection, and had a jolly time talking over the ”old times” when we were bare-footed school lads. Finally Joe asked me where I ”was holding forth and what I was doing?” I told him that I had been living with Colonel Boone, driving the stage coach from there to Bent's Old Fort, but this trip I was on my way from Denver acting as conductor of the mail. Mr. Graham asked me how long I had been with Colonel Boone. I told him I had been with him up to that time, about six months. ”I understand,” said Mr. Graham, ”that Mr. Boone is a rebel.” I told him that he was most emphatically mistaken, that Colonel Boone was one of the strongest Union men I had ever known, and that he was as strong a Unionist as ever lived. Then it was that I found out what mischief Haynes had sent the soldiers to the home of Colonel Boone, to do.

Joe Graham told me that he was the Orderly Sergeant of the company that had camped at Mr. Haynes, and Mr. Haynes had told the Lieutenant that Colonel Boone was a rebel, and had a company of Texas Rangers camped close to his premises for the purpose of making a raid on the Union soldiers. Joe Graham stated that the Lieutenant had ordered him to take some soldiers and go to the home of Colonel Boone, and if he found things as Haynes had represented, to confiscate all his property, and to burn all his buildings, but that the Lieutenant had cautioned them to be careful and to ascertain if the story Haynes had told was true before they began depredations.

When Old Joe had finished his recital, my ”dander was up.” ”Joe,” said I, ”will you give me an affidavit of these facts, with the statement of Mr. Haynes to the Lieutenant?” He told me that he would be pleased to do so. We went to the Stage Company's office where Dan Hayden, a Notary Public in and for Pueblo, Colorado, drew up the statement and Sergeant Graham verified it.

After thanking Mr. Graham for his kindness in this matter, I proceeded to Bent's Fort, with what I considered good evidence of Mr. Haynes'

guilt. When I arrived at Bent's Fort, I had time to go from there to Fort Lyons to meet the stage coming from the States, and I took this affidavit with me to Major Anthony, the Commanding Officer of Fort Lyons. Mr. Anthony told me that he had heard of some such talk as this, coming from Mr. Haynes. He immediately sent two soldiers to Mr. Haynes'

and had him put under arrest and brought to the Fort. Mr. Haynes was taken to Denver, Colorado, given a trial, convicted, and sentenced to the penitentiary.

CHAPTER VIII.

Macauley and Lambert Spar; Macauley is Placed in Guard House and the Indian Agency Reverts to Major Anthony.

A few weeks prior to the event last reported, the Indians reported to Colonel Boone that their agent, Mr. Macauley, was doing them an injustice. They declared to Colonel Boone that they had as much right to take something to eat from their wagons and trains as Mr. Macauley had to steal the goods sent there for them, and as long as they were being dealt with fairly they would deal fairly in return. It was to that end that Colonel Boone had perfected the treaty with them, and they were not the aggressors. Satanta, the great chief of the Kiowas, represented the Indians in this instance.

When this fact became known Mr. Macauley was placed in the guard house at Fort Lyons for dishonesty with the Indians.

When Mr. Macauley found that the Indians were becoming hostile because of his dishonesty, he went to the Stage Company's office at Fort Lyons and proposed to Mr. Lambert to put up a large stone building on the Stage Company's ground, for the purpose of storing goods. Mr. Lambert began to sniff the air at once, he thought he had found a mouse, and he said: ”Mr. Macauley, I haven't the money to erect a building of that kind now.” Mr. Macauley told him that he would not have to furnish a cent of money, that he, himself, would erect the building, but he wanted it put up under Lambert's name. He told Lambert that he could get the Government teamsters to haul the rock and put up the building, and it wouldn't cost him anything to amount to anything, either. Mr. Lambert told Mr. Macauley that he could not see the advisability of such a building. ”But,” said Macauley, ”there's so much condemned goods, such as flour, meat and other groceries--the flour is wormy--and we can buy them for nearly nothing, and could sell them for a big profit.” He told Lambert they could get rich enough to go East in a little while, and live like Princes, such as they were, if shortness of means did not tie them to the Western Plains. Soon their coffers would be filled to overflowing, if they but planted the seeds of his cunning mind, they would fructify with a harvest of plenty, and they would reap a rich reward; for the goods that came in for the Indians were rapidly acc.u.mulating, and at that time, there was already a heavy excess.

Finally after they had reached the front room of the Lambert home, and the conversation had taken on a still more confidential turn, Mr.

Lambert wheeled on his guest, and in tones not meant to inspire the greatest confidence, almost shouted to Macauley, these words: ”Do you mean to come here and make a proposition for me to build you a hiding place to put your stolen Indian goods in, over my name and signature?

Now, sir, your proposition would place Bob Lambert in the guard house, while you, the man who steals these goods--you have as much as said that they were sent here for the Indians--you would go free.” Bob Lambert was a mad animal when he was mad, and on he went, thundering like a bull who had suddenly beheld a red umbrella: ”Macauley, you dog! the goods you are withholding from these Indians are causing trouble along the whole frontier, and it will amount to a b.l.o.o.d.y battle with these ignorant people; but, I say to you, these Indians are not ignorant of the fact that it is you who are stealing their stuff. Nevertheless, the whole white tribe will suffer through your dishonesty. These Indians have a right to protect their rights, but in so doing, they may do depredations in the wrong place.” Mr. Macauley tried several times to pacify Mr.

Lambert; to tell him that he had misinterpreted his proposition. He wanted to explain himself further and more fully, but Mr. Lambert would have none of it, and told him to get himself out of his house, away from his premises, and to remain away.

While Mr. Macauley was hesitating, Mr. Lambert drew his pistol and with one word, that sounded like a roar from a mighty lion, said, ”Go!” Mr.

Macauley turned to leave, and Lambert yelled after him: ”Run, you thief, get up and hurry, or I will fill your legs full of lead;” and Macauley did run.

At this time Major Anthony was the Commanding Officer of Fort Lyons. Mr.

Macauley ran to the Major's office, reaching there greatly excited and in an almost exhausted condition, he demanded Major Anthony to put the chains on Mr. Lambert, and to chain him to the floor. Major Anthony asked him what the matter was. Mr. Macauley began what sounded like a very plausible story of his encounter with Mr. Lambert.

When he stopped to catch his breath, he again ordered Major Anthony to send at once for Lambert, and place him in the guard house for threatening his life.