by Charles King
CHAPTER XXVIII.
One soft spring morning, some two weeks later, a little knot of officershad gathered about the Cranstons' quarters at the cantonment. Under anawning of tent flies they were conning the papers that had just reachedthem and eagerly discussing their contents. Mrs. Cranston, a shade ofanxiety on her winsome, sunburned face, was glancing quickly from onespeaker to another. Through the open door-way in the cool interior MissLoomis could be seen bending over the boys as they fidgeted at theirbooks. Neither felt like studying this day of days, for absorbing news,and lots of it, had come. To begin with, a general court-martial hadbeen ordered to meet at Omaha for the trial of Captain Devers, EleventhCavalry, and officers of high rank and distinction were to be hisjudges. With Atherton as president of the court there could be no"monkey business," said Mr. Sanders, by which that young gentleman wasunderstood to mean that there would be no trifling with the subject. Itwas noticeable that neither Riggs nor Winthrop was of the detail, anomission readily understood, as Devers would unquestionably object, aswas his privilege, to either or both on the ground of bias, prejudice,or malice, which, whether sustained or not, would lead to their askingto be excused from serving and so reducing the array. The court had beenordered from division head-quarters by the lieutenant-general himself,and its members, as a rule, were summoned from distant posts andcommands, so as to preclude the possibility of the accused captainsaying it was "packed" from the ranks of his enemies. In other words,except Atherton, the court was made up entirely of officers who hadtaken no part in the campaign of the previous summer. It was understoodthat the charges were grave and numerous; rumors of misconduct in theface of the enemy, disobedience of orders, misrepresentation of facts,etc., being among the items mentioned. Major Warren had been summonedfrom abroad a month earlier than he had planned to come. Colonel PelegStone and Mr. Leonard had both been notified that they would be requiredas witnesses, so had Captains Cranston, Truman and Hay, LieutenantsBoynton, Hastings and Davies. The court could not meet before mid-Maybecause several of the members came from the department of Dakota, farup the Missouri, but that it was to be a "clinch" at last was thegenerally expressed sentiment. Devers had run to the end of his tether,said Boynton, unfeelingly. "I could add a charge or two myself if Ididn't know he was loaded with them so deep that he can't stagger."Boynton, limping still, had come back to resume command of the agencyguard, for Davies's wound had proved deep and serious. He had beenstabbed by Red Dog after that warrior was raised to his feet, afterCranston's skirmishers had swept the field, after Davies thought thestruggle at an end, and was unprepared for the stealthy blow. Nothingbut Brannan's vigilance, and the warning cry which caused the lieutenantto turn in the nick of time, had saved his life. Red Dog in irons lay inthe log guard-house. Thunder Hawk, on parole,--for White had dared thewrath of the bureau and refused to let McPhail have him,--walked thegarrison at will. Mr. Davies, still weak and languid, lay in the bighospital tent, really the most comfortable dwelling at the station, nowthat the weather was growing warm, and there, attended by Burroughs andministered to by a pathetically pretty wife (who had somewhat recoveredfrom her panic, now that she was within the stockade of a military postwith lots of men around to watch her and be fascinated), was on the roadto speedy convalescence. He was being allowed occasional visitors, andwhile his own comrades vied in their attentions, nothing could exceedthe anxiety of old White, the major commanding. Twice did he haveThunder Hawk recount to him the details of Davies's calm courage in thissecond daring capture, red-handed, of the rebellious chief, and Whitewent to Cranston like the blunt, outspoken campaigner that he was.
"It begins to look to me," said he, "as if this young fellow had beenmost damnably backbitten. You can haul Devers before a court, but whatcan we do with these women?"
"You have never told me, major, what these women had to say againsthim."
"And I'm not going to," said White. "When a man's ashamed of havingbelieved a mean story, the sooner he buries it the better. Men like himdon't go round abusing their own wife or insulting anybody else's. It'smy belief that the swarm that buzzes around the throne there at Mrs.Pegleg's ought to be muzzled, and if the old man hadn't lost his grip inthis seizure he's had, I'd tell him so."
But this seizure of Pegleg's had indeed proved a serious matter. So farfrom recovering his accustomed spirits, the old colonel seemed to growfeebler and less inclined to move about with every day. One morning hesent word to Captain Devers that he would not leave his bed, as he felttoo weak, and that night it was that Leonard got back from Chicago. Whentold by Pollock, who met him at the railway station, that Devers wasagain in command, Leonard stepped into the telegraph-office and wrote amessage which he showed to nobody. Within thirty-six hours LieutenantArcher of the department staff reached Fort Scott with orders from thegeneral commanding. Captain Pollock was placed in command of the postand Devers in close arrest. The next day Mr. Langston came out fromBraska and was closeted an hour with Leonard at the adjutant's office,and then, taking advantage of a returning escort and ambulance, thecivilian lawyer left for the agency. Even while the group of officers atCranston's was eagerly discussing the news, he had made his bow to adeeply blushing Mira over at the hospital tent, and was seated byDavies's side. "Business first, pleasure afterwards," hummed Cranston tohimself when he heard of the arrival, and noted how Meg's bright eyesdilated.
"Business, indeed!" thought she. "I know the business that brings himhere, despite Agatha's assumption of sublime indifference."
But grave though some of the older faces grew as the news was read, andeager and excited as were some of the younger, it was not because of thelong-prophesied trial of Captain Devers. The papers, letters, anddespatches were full of detail of the serious condition of affairs tothe northwest. Inspired by the success of the Sioux in their granduprising of the previous year, and reasoning that they had little tolose and everything to gain by similar methods, a big tribe had cutloose from its reservation and taken the field, one band of it prudentlymassacring all the white men to be found in their neighborhood asnecessary preliminary to the move. This was bad to begin with, butworse was to follow. The other agencies were overrun by a number ofyoung Indians of what might be termed the unreconstructed class, andthese, excited by reports brought in by runners from the openly hostile,were slipping off in scores to join them. Already had the epidemicstruck McPhail's "angels." Already had Mac, with long face and longerstory, been up to see Major White and beg for cavalry to be sent inpursuit. White said it was preposterous. The renegades had two or threedays' start to begin with, and if pursued, all they had to do was tohide in the Bad Lands and pick off their pursuers. Cavalry could only gothere in single file. Ten Indians could hold the narrow, tortuous trailagainst ten hundred troops. Relations were strained between Mac and themilitary anyhow. Everybody knew by this time that he had lied aboutBoynton and Davies, and had striven to make it appear, and with nolittle success, too, so far as Eastern newspapers were concerned, thatall the turbulence and rioting at Ogallalla was caused by the arroganceof the army. Then Mac pointed out that if something weren't done todrive those renegades back, all the young braves over at the bigreservation beyond the Mini Ska would follow suit. Already the cattlemenwere complaining. Already settlers were drifting in to Pawnee stationand Minden on the railway to the west, and besieging old Tintop atregimental head-quarters at Fort Ransom, and stirring up "screamers" inthe columns of the infantile dailies at Butte and Braska, allegingapathy on part of the authorities and cowardice on that of the cavalry.Already letters had passed between the officers of the Eleventh at thecantonment and their comrades at Ransom. "If we have to take the fieldagain this summer let us try to get together as a regiment and not besplit up in all manner of crowds," was the cry. What Cranston and Trumandreaded, too, was that they might be squadroned with some of the --thunder Major Chrome. The --th was all right, but Chrome was so horriblyslow that his own comrades chafed under his command, and Atherton reallywanted him to retire and get "a live man" in
his place. Truman, Hay, andCranston felt certain that it would not be a fortnight before they wereordered into the field. Tintop and Gray were sure of it. Captain Fentonand others at Ransom were talking of sending their families East, andnow the question that agitated Cranston was, what to do with his dearones? It was all well enough to have them at the cantonment while thecavalry were there, but with all the troops in the field except a singlecompany of infantry, he did not dare leave them. They must go back toScott.
No wonder then that Mrs. Cranston's bonny face was clouded this sweetspring morning. No wonder the boys could not pin their vagrant thoughtsto the books before them while snatches of the low, eager talk camedrifting in through the open door. No wonder Miss Loomis went about herwork with conscious effort, but when told of the arrival of RobertLangston, the woman in her knew he would not go until he had seen andspoken with her.
The day of Red Dog's capture was still fresh in the minds of Cranston'shousehold, as indeed in that of every household at the cantonment. Withfield-glasses they had marked the threatening gathering at the distantvillage, and the ominous advance in line. Old White had his men in ranksin less than no time, and the cavalry column, masked by the agencybuildings, was sent at brisk trot to the eastward, so that McPhail'smessenger, spurring at mad gallop for aid, met them midway. Cranston'stroop was instantly deployed into long skirmish line at the gallop, andthe affair was practically over by the time Major White, leaving theinfantry battalion to guard the post, had reached the scene. Meantimethe composure of the mothers and children left at the cantonment was inno wise augmented by the panic-stricken guise of the arriving refugees,Mrs. McPhail, with her children, and Mira being the first to appear. Itso happened that the Cranstons' bungalow, being near the eastern end ofthe line, proved the natural refuge of the first wagon-load, and thatMrs. Cranston and Miss Loomis were the angels who thus had to ministerto their weaker sisters. Even then, when nearly "dead with terror," asshe expressed it, Mira would gladly have gone somewhere else, but asMrs. McPhail promptly bundled herself and her youngsters out of thewagon and under the shelter of the Cranstons' wing, there was nothingleft for Mira but to follow suit. Dr. Burroughs came promptly to seewhat he could do for her. Both Mrs. Cranston and Miss Loomis masteredtheir own anxiety in the effort to comfort these weaklings, and as nosounds of battle came from the eastward, and the watchers on the roofsreported Red Dog's people as scattering for their tepees before theadvance of the cavalry, comparative composure was gradually beingrestored when the first messenger came in from the front, a corporal ofCranston's troop, whom the boys hailed with eager acclaim.
"Everything's all right, mum," he blithely saluted Mrs. Cranston. "We'vegot old Red Dog again,--Lieutenant Davies nabbed him," he added, withprompt recognition of Mira's lovely face. "They want Dr. Burroughs tocome down to the agency though." And as the doctor mounted the troopersaid something more in a low tone, glancing furtively at Mrs. Davies ashe did so. Burroughs nodded, but rode rapidly away, the corporal afterhim. Mrs. McPhail became instantly lachrymose. Dr. Burroughs wanted atthe agency? That could mean only one thing,--Mr. McPhail must bewounded, he was always so impetuous. In vain Mrs. Cranston strove tosoothe her. She ran out on the roadway in front and hailed the very nextparty straggling in,--the wife and the cook of the agency clerk,importuning them to say was Mac badly hurt.
"Mac ain't hurt at all," said the new arrivals, hot after a long andneedless tramp. "How was he to get hurt? It's Loot'nant Davies that'sshot. Red Dog tried to kill him."
And here Mira promptly and appropriately shrieked and fainted.
Nor was she of use when presently restored to a limp and dejectedconsciousness. Other messengers had come by this time. Dr. Burroughs hadexamined Mr. Davies's hurts. He was stabbed, not shot. It was serious,not dangerous. He was being made comfortable at home, where CaptainCranston said it was perfectly safe for Mrs. Davies to join him, andthe ambulance was speedily ready to take her to the bedside of herwounded hero, but again poor Mira's nerves gave way. She could not go tothat dreadful place, so much nearer those frightful savages. Oh, why,why hadn't they brought her Percy here? Even Mrs. McPhail was no suchcoward as that. She drove back without her, and not for hours after wasMira strong enough to go. By that time he was sleeping placidly when,trembling still and pathetically pale, Mira was escorted to his bedside,and that night Mrs. Cranston had her revenge.
"Agatha Loomis," said she, "you declared all along that he did perfectlyright in marrying that--that--in marrying _her_. What do you say now?"
And Miss Loomis said--nothing.
They had been talking of Davies again this very morning before the mailsand Langston came. No sooner had he been well enough to move than heasked to be sent up to the garrison. He was no longer commander of theguard, and no longer entitled to the house. What was more, he mustdecline to serve McPhail in any such capacity again, and had had aletter written to department head-quarters representing the facts, andone was received from the general promising that another officer shouldbe detailed immediately. Furthermore, Mr. Davies announced that Mrs.Davies simply could not stand the life at that point. Then Boyntonexpressed a desire to return to it, as he was now able to stump around alittle, and he enjoyed chaffing McPhail, and so the wounded secondlieutenant of Devers's troop was shifted to the hospital tent put upfor his accommodation at the cantonment, and there Mira was made farmore comfortable than many an army wife had been, awaiting the day whenthey could with safety be started on the road to Scott, now his properstation.
"Langston's paying the Parson a mighty long visit," exclaimed Mr.Sanders, unslinging his sabre and flopping down into the firstcamp-chair on his way back from morning drill. "Mrs. Cranston, what doyou want to bet y'all go back to Scott inside of a week?"
"I like it very much better here, especially as our going to Scott wouldmean 'y'all' were to be again in the field," was the laughing reply.
"Well, I like duty here better, but I do hanker for a waltz on that oldwaxed floor. Think, we haven't had a dance since we came."
"The men had some good music the other evening; why didn't you suggest awaltz on the prairie to Mrs. Davies?"
"Well, I did think of it. She looks bored to death. I saw her just nowas I came by. She was yawning in the shade of the tent fly whileLangston and the Parson were chatting inside." Why don't you and MissLoomis go over there and cheer her up sometimes? was the question hechecked just as it trembled on his lips. Some brief inspiration ofdiscretion warned him that that was ground too sacred for his blunderingintrusion. "She seems downright lonely," he concluded, somewhat lamelyand suggestively. "I don't think Mrs. Davies is cut out for this kind ofarmy life. Here comes Langston now." He needn't have made thatannouncement. Mrs. Cranston was watching, waiting for him, and sheglanced quickly to see where Miss Loomis was. That young lady, however,never looked up from the slate whereon Louis's hieroglyphics were in madarithmetical tangle, even when she heard Langston's courteous greetingto the lady of the house and his inquiries for the captain, and heardthem without evidence of any emotion whatsoever.
"The captain is at the stables, Mr. Langston. We are so glad to see you.I'll send him word in a moment. Do sit down and tell us all the newsfrom Braska," said Mrs. Cranston, hospitably.
"I will do all that most gladly, Mrs. Cranston, but the matter on whichI desire to see him at once is urgent, and perhaps Mr. Sanders will walkover to the stables with me. Then, may I not call and see you later?"
"By all means! and will you not dine with us? A real campaign dinner,you know, but we shall be so pleased to have you."
Langston's face fairly glowed. "I'll be here in half an hour, if I may,but I must see the captain at once, and will go. I trust--MissLoomis--is well."
"Very well, and quite able to answer for herself," said Mrs. Cranston,mischievously, while Langston's eyes eagerly searched the door-way anddim interior; but Miss Loomis was nowhere in sight, and chose to appearto be not within hearing.
"Why didn't you come or speak?" said Meg, reproachfull
y, the moment hewas gone.
"I was busy. These are school days," was the calm reply, one that wouldhave been no comfort to Langston, who walked rather ruefully on with thesubaltern. The business with Cranston proved interesting.
"You have a young trooper, Brannan, whom I need to see confidentially,and at once. May I do so, captain?"
"Certainly. Send Corporal Brannan here," said the troop commander,wondering what new complication had involved this wayward son; andpresently, erect and soldierly, with a fine tan on his cheek andbrand-new chevrons on his sleeves, "lanced for bravery in the field," asthe troopers expressed it in those days, the young soldier stoodattention before them.
"You probably do not remember me, Corporal Brannan," said Langston, incourteous tone, "but I remember you favorably and well for the day atBluff Siding last June." And the light in the young soldier's eyesindicated that he recalled the civilian. "Your captain knows somethingof the matter on which I wish to see you, and I have asked him to remainhere with us." And now an anxious, troubled look crept over Brannan'sface, some swift overshadowing from the coming cloud. "You have neveryet told any one whose knife it was that cut you that day."
Brannan's lips moved and he turned even paler, but he said no word.
"Well, corporal, the time seems to have come when instead of keepingsilence to protect another man you may have to speak for your own sake."
Brannan glanced quickly, anxiously, from one face to another, from thelawyer to his troop commander, as though appealing to the latter to sayhow could that be. Presently he faltered, "I don't understand." "Well,I will tell you, in part at least. Your captain and I know something ofyour past history, and I do not think you will have cause to regret thatfact. We know that you were at Dr. Powlett's at the time Mr. Davies wasassaulted and robbed near his Urbana home. You had there been on termsof intimacy with young Powlett, who disappeared after much disreputabledoing. You soon enlisted, and were for a time very intimate with arecruit, Howard, who corresponded with the description I have ofPowlett. You both had frequent letters,--you from your mother and hefrom several sources. Then came a disagreement and you held yourselfapart from him and his new chum, a young fellow called Paine, and, whileyou continued loyal to an old friendship and kept silent as to Howard'spast, he was less considerate of you. There was serious trouble betweenyourself and Sergeant Haney and Howard the night you reached Fort Scottafter the campaign, and you were ordered confined. I have heard there atScott a story I do not believe. Will you not tell your captain and methe real cause?"
"Well, sir, it was about my writing-case," said the corporal, in low andhesitant voice. "I kept mother's letters and some pictures and things Ivalued in it. It went with me up to the Big Horn camp all right, butwhen we started on the campaign and cut loose from the wagons I had toturn it over to Sergeant Haney. I saw him lock it in the big companychest, and the night we got into Scott with the wagons and that chestwas unloaded, over three months afterwards, I asked for it at once, andI had been kept back with the wagons, and I'd been drinking a little,for it was a bitter cold march, and Haney and Howard gave me moreliquor and told me I'd better not take it until I'd quit drinking. Wehad trouble that night later, and I was confined for abusing thesergeant and being drunk, though I could prove I hadn't abused him, andthat it was just the other way, and that I was only slightly affected bythe liquor. The next day I sent word from the guard-house for my case,and the reply came that the sergeant gave it to me the previous night. Iknew he hadn't and said so. They answered that I was drunk and must havelost it, and that was all the satisfaction I got."
"Why didn't you tell me about this at the time, Brannan?" askedCranston, kindly.
"I meant to, sir, the moment I got out, but they fixed things so as tosend me direct from the guard-house with Lieutenant Boynton's detachmentto the agency, and when I wrote from there to Howard and Haney both,they answered that they had a clue, and if I'd only keep quiet they'dget it sure, and the man who stole it from me. I never told mother aboutit,--it shamed me so. I was afraid the liquor was drugged, and--it mightbe true, though I thought I knew everything that happened." Then hestopped abruptly.
"Go on," said Langston, with deep interest in his keen, shrewd face."There is even more to this than I thought. What followed?"
"I got tired waiting, and there was a chance to go to Scott with themail rider and I took it, and a bitter cold ride it proved to be. Wecouldn't get coffee on the way, the rider and I, but we could getwhiskey, worse luck, for he had it with him, and so I had been drinkingwhen we reached the post, and made my demand of Haney. He put me offwith more liquor and soft words. Then I threatened to appeal to CaptainCranston or Lieutenant Davies, and the next thing they had me inhospital with Paine to watch me. I had been drinking enough to make memad with suffering for more by that time."
"Well, did you never appeal to Captain Devers?"
"No, sir; there was no use in doing that," said Brannan, coloringuneasily as he spoke. "I beg Captain Cranston's pardon for saying so ofan officer, but no one could hope for justice in 'A' Troop unless he wassolid with Sergeant Haney."
"And you have never seen your writing-case to this day?" continuedLangston.
"Never, sir."
"Well, one thing more. Now that you know Howard's character,--know himto have deserted and to have striven to injure you in many a way, willyou still persist in saying he did not wield the knife that slashedyou?"
"I have said, sir, that I knew no one in all the recruits who would haveused a knife on me."
"True! You put it well, Brannan," said Langston, with a smile of deepmeaning, "and among simple-minded military folk the answer would beenough, perhaps, but not to a lawyer. Would you declare that Howard didnot wield the knife that slashed you--but was meant for LieutenantDavies?"
And Brannan colored still deeper. "I cannot say anything about him, sir;at least not now."
"Very well. Then it is useless to ask just now what you know of hispast?"
"Yes, sir."
"All right, Brannan. It is my belief that in the near future thatwriting-case of yours will turn up, and I mean to stay to see it, forwhen it does you'll need us both."
But Langston's hope for a speedy and brilliant coup was dashed by thenews that came that very night. Forty-eight hours thereafter a littlecaravan of army wagons, Concords and ambulances, with an infantryescort, was slowly wending its way southward toward the welcoming roofsof old Fort Scott, with the wives and children of several families, withMira and her newest friend, Mrs. Plodder, with the tall, martial-lookingcivilian riding in close attendance on the Cranston's equipage, baskingin the life-giving sunshine and in the thrill and hope and sweet unrestof an ever-growing love, devoted and insistent in spite of vague andjealous dread, for there was not the feeblest flicker of encouragementin Miss Loomis's calm and oft-averted eyes. Langston asked himself inthe still hours of the starlit night, camping on the banks of DismalRiver, was it possible that her heart was following some soldier in thedusty column, riding hard, riding fast long miles away to the northwestnow, eager to overtake the comrade soldiery already on the flank of thefoe, and bear a trooper's part in the battle summer so suddenly to open.Even Percy Davies, laughing at the feeble protest of Dr. Burroughs, andheartily congratulated by old White himself, had donned his field dressand climbed stiffly into saddle, to ride once more with the fightingcolumn, to the savage disappointment of his one red foe at thecantonments, and the utter confusion of other foes at Scott.
