Part 11 (1/2)

”It is too bad,” Major Berry had confided to Connell the third day out.

”It just so happened that 'Old Grumbly' was the one captain without a subaltern when Mr. Graham reported for duty with us, and your fine young cla.s.smate had to take the place of one of the absentees. The colonel couldn't help himself. Grumbly is a good soldier in his way, Mr. Connell, and knows his trade, too. I suppose Graham has--sized him up?” This with a c.o.c.k of his head and a keen glance.

”Shouldn't wonder, sir; but if he has, he's kept it to himself.”

”Well, if Garrett gets to bothering Graham too much, you let me know.”

”I will, sir, if Graham lets _me_ know, but--I'm mistaken in Graham if he opens his head on the subject.”

And though the scout was now in its third week, and things had been said and done by ”Grumbly” Garrett that set other men to talking, not a word had come from ”Coyote.”

But it soon transpired that if Graham wouldn't speak of his troop commander _pro tem._, neither did he speak to him, save when occasion required. Day after day on the march it was noted that while the senior lieutenant of each troop rode side by side with his captain, the young West Pointer serving with ”F” was almost always at the rear of its column of twos, where, as it transpired, Garrett had given him orders to march and see that the men kept closed. But no complaint came from Graham.

Now, however, as the two old chums rode away on a side scout of their own, it might well be expected that ”Coyote” would be less reticent.

The eyes of half the command had followed them appreciatively as the detachment started, Graham and Connell in the lead, Sergeant Drum, and his nineteen following in compact column of twos. No sooner did they reach the outlying sentries, however, than it was noted that the young leader looked back over his shoulder, and the next moment two troopers detached themselves from the rest and spurred out ahead until full six hundred yards in the lead. Then two others obliqued out to the right and left until nearly as a great a distance on the flanks.

”Knows his biz,” said the adjutant, sententiously.

”Knows nothing but what I've taught him day by day,” snarled Captain Garrett. ”And I wash my hands of all responsibility for that detachment once it's out of sight of us.”

”Shut up,” growled a junior. ”The 'Old Man's' got ears, and he'll hear you.”

”Well, I _want_ him to hear--it's time he _did_ hear--and heed,” was the surly answer. But ”Grumbly's” eyes were wisely watching the major as he spoke, noting that the ”Old Man” was busy with his binocular, following Graham's movements up the long, gradual, northward slope. The moment the major dropped it and turned toward the group, Captain Garrett changed his tone. ”What I'm most afraid of is his getting lost,” said he.

”You needn't be, captain,” said the bearded commander, placidly. ”Mr.

Graham knows this country better than we do. He spent long months here before ever we set eyes on it.”

Garrett's jaw dropped. ”Then why didn't he tell me? How was I to know?”

”Princ.i.p.ally, I fancy,” drawled the adjutant, who loved to rub ”Old Grumbly's” fur the wrong way, ”because you told him two weeks ago that when you wanted advice or information on any subject from him you'd ask it.”

But while Graham had as yet won no friend in Captain Garrett, he had found many among the troopers. His fine horsemans.h.i.+p, his kind, courteous manner to them, his soldierly bearing toward their irascible captain, had appealed to them at the start and held them more and more toward the finish. They saw the second day out that he was no novice at plainscraft. The captain had asked his estimate of the distance from a ford of the Chaduza to a distant b.u.t.te, and promptly scoffed at his answer; indeed, it surprised most of them. Yet ”Plum” Gunnison, pack-master, who had served seven years at the post, said the lieutenant was right. They saw within the fourth day that the new-comer was an old stager in more ways than one. ”Touch-the-Sky,” scout and interpreter, said the lieutenant knew sign talk, which was more than their captain did. They were to see still more within the compa.s.s of a day's march, but they had seen enough in their two weeks' comrades.h.i.+p to give them confidence in the young officer they never felt for their own and only ”Grumbly,” who, with all his experience, would often blunder, and Grumbly's blunders told on his troop, otherwise they might not have cared.

In low tone the troopers were chatting as they crossed the divide and once more came in view of the two far out in advance, riding now northeastward. They were following back, without much difficulty, the hoof-prints of the two fugitives who, riding in terror and darkness, had so fortunately found their bivouac at break of day. And it was of these two both the men and their young officers were talking as the little party jogged steadily on.

Peaceful hunters and law-abiding men the pair had represented themselves. They were originally five in all--three ”pardners,” a wagoner, and a cook. Their ”outfit” consisted of a covered wagon with four draught and three saddle horses. They indignantly spurned the suggestion that they had whiskey to swap with the Indians for fur and peltries. They had a ranch down on Snake River, were well known in Valentine, had never made trouble, nor had trouble, with the Indians; but the game was all gone from their home neighborhood, and so long as they kept off the reservation they knew there was no reason for the Indians troubling them. And here came another suggestion. The ”Old Man,” Major Berry, had somewhat bluntly asked if they did not know they had been trespa.s.sing, had been well within the reservation lines and north of Nebraska, and the two swore stoutly that Lem Pearson, partner and projector of the enterprise, had said he knew the country perfectly, had been there half a dozen times, and they left it all to him. They never dreamed they were doing wrong until their camp was ”jumped” in the dead of night, and the Sioux chased them every inch of the way till they got in sight of the cavalry.

Yet here was the detachment, at six o'clock of this sparkling morning, clear out of sight of the rest of the cavalry, and half-way across the long swale of the next divide, and, though the print of the shod horses was easily followed, not once yet, anywhere--although the little troop was spread out in long extended line and searched diligently--not once had they found the print of a pony hoof. Now they were full an hour, and nearly four miles, out from camp, and Geordie signalled, slowly swinging his campaign hat about his head, for his men to a.s.semble, then dismount and take their ten minutes' rest.

”Con,” said he, presently, ”it's my belief those scamps were lying. The only Indians near the Chaduza were those that skipped for White River last night and are probably heading for Eagle's Nest now. Their trail must be three miles or more west of us here, and South Fork isn't three miles ahead. We'll see it from yonder ridge.”

Connell was squatting, tailor fas.h.i.+on, on the turf, and thoughtfully playing ”mumble-t'-peg” with his hunting-knife, while his troop horse cropped thriftily at the bunch gra.s.s. Graham had been giving a glance over his little command, watching the resetting of a saddle or a careful folding of a blanket. It would presently be time to mount and start, but there was something on his mind, and, as of old, he wanted to have it out with his chum.

Connell drew his knife from the sod, then, with the point on the tip of the left forefinger and the haft deftly held between the thumb and finger of his right, s.h.i.+fted it over by his right ear and sent it whirling down, saw it sink two inches in the sand, bolt upright, then queried: ”They said their camp was on the Fork ten miles away northward. Could that be?”

”It might. The Fork turns almost square to the north and runs back of Rosebud. But what I mean is, they weren't chased by the Sioux. I doubt if they fought them at all.”

”How about Gamble's horse?--and the blood? There's been some kind of a fight. Look, Con! There's a signal!”