Tonio, Son of the Sierras: A Story of the Apache War

by Charles King

  CHAPTER XX.

  It was then lacking nearly an hour of tattoo. Already the arrivingcouriers, their mission executed, their wearied horses turned over towilling hands at stables, their hunger appeased at the troop kitchen,and the pent-up hankering for beer still unassuaged, were "filling up"at the expense of their fellows at the store, and wistfully looking onat the game.

  Munoz, the ever-ready; Dago, the still demoralized, and one or two oftheir burro-bred community, were settled at monte, Dago and Munoz eyingeach other like gladiators, and already a table had started at studpoker, that might readily develop into "draw." The barkeeper was a busyman, and had been given the tip to keep sober or lose the last hold hehad on his job. The bookkeeper had for a few days past moved in silenceabout the premises, avoiding the common room as he would a lazaretto,avoiding even his kind. For most of the week he had been utterly unlikehimself--strange, nervous, restless, starting at sudden sounds, abruptin speech and manner, occasionally springing to the door and steppingforth into the sunlight, wandering about with hanging head and hands inpocket, coming back and slamming into his seat as though at odds withall creation, striving desperately to concentrate his thoughts on thecolumns of figures, and failing wretchedly. "Case is all broke up,"said Craney, "and damned if I know why. Last week he was the mostpopular man in Yavapai, or all Arizona for that matter." What Craneyand his partner mortally feared was that Case would take to drinkingagain, with pay-day close at hand--the time of all others Case hadnever yet failed them, the time of all others when breach of faithcould mean nothing short of breach of all business relations. But up tonine P.M. this night of prospective relaxation Case had been a stalwart.The test was yet to come.

  It was still half an hour of tattoo when old Bucketts came intoBentley's quarters and found that skilled practitioner replacing thebandages and sling on his patient's shoulder. The tidings brought bythe couriers and given out by Archer had long since been digested.Bucketts had something new. "Doc," said he, "if you have anything tosay or send to Stannard, now's your chance."

  "Don't call me 'Doc'!" snapped Bentley. "If there's anything I hateit's this curtailing of titles as though they were too good for the manthat bears them. One of these days you'll get your double bars, if youdon't die of over-eating, and then how will you like it to be called'cap'? How'd you like me to call you 'Buck' now? Who's going toStannard?"

  "Pass the 'buck,'" said the quartermaster sententiously. "I apologize.But Willett starts at day-break--takes a sergeant, six men and a packoutfit--thought you'd like to know. Leaves us with mighty few cavalry,now that Malloy and his people are still out."

  "What keeps them?" asked Harris, looking up from Bentley's busy hands."I never heard what they were after."

  "You never will," said Bucketts, "unless they stumble on it byaccident," then colored under the look of surprise, almost of reproof,in the younger officer's face. It was not good that a post commander'sinstructions to his men at arms should be slightingly spoken of by oneof his staff, and Bentley knew it; but Bucketts was already mentallykicking against those very instructions. Now he stood abashed andawkward. That Willett should be going seemed to Harris of smallmatter--a matter of course. He wished himself again in Willett's place.

  "How soon can you let _me_ be going?" he asked Bentley.

  "We could have had you out by this time if you'd only quit fretting,"was the gruff reply. "Well, I suppose Willett's glad of a chance tojoin his chief?" he said interrogatively, though never looking up.

  "Not unless looks belie him," was the answer.

  Bentley bent lower over his work. "No--physical hindrance that I knowof," said he suggestively.

  "It's financial, I take it," said Bucketts sturdily. "Our investigatorfinds it--expensive--here at Almy."

  So the sore was rankling still, and that luckless order had hurt no oneso much as him who bore it, and so those who might have been hisfriends were taking a certain malicious comfort in his discomfiture. Itwas not Willett's fault that he had come thus handicapped, but onething added to another had made him the disliked of men. Was it incompensation for this that he stood so beloved of women? Then Bucketts,having thus relieved himself, ventured again a glance at Harris, andthe younger soldier's eyes were on his, searching, questioning. It wasfor Bucketts to explain, and he did it thus:

  "Excuse me, Mr. Harris; I am not over-partial to this distinguishedclassmate of yours, and, to put it flatly, I'm no more his friend thathe is yours. I'll say good-night." Whereupon this blunt official turnedand quit the room, colliding at the door with an entering form, that ofStrong, whose impact added to the quartermaster's distemper, for Strongwas in a hurry, and half-savage mood.

  "Doctor," said he, bolting in, with scant apology to his staggeredfellow staff officer, "Craney wants to know if you're coming downto-night. He's worried a bit about Case."

  "What's the matter with Case?" asked Bentley, barely looking up fromthe final tie of the sling, while Harris settled back in his chair.

  "That's what he wants to ask _you_. I don't know, except he says Casehasn't slept for six nights, and he'll be wild as a hawk when thepaymaster gets here; wants you to give him something to make him sleep,I believe. I told him I'd tell you, and now the general's shooting offhis quill at the office. Hope you're better, Harris. Good-night."

  "Reckon I'll have to go down awhile, anyhow. Harris, what Bucketts saidwas true, though he oughtn't to have said it. Willett has been playinglate these last two nights, with Watts, principally, but Craney says heseemed oddly anxious to get Case into the game, and Case wouldn'tplay--wouldn't stay about the place while Willett was there--wouldn'thave anything to do with him. Willett has lost quite a lot, I'm told,and now he's ordered off."

  Harris was still silent. He had no love for Willett, at best. He hadhad in their cadet days more reasons than one for his dislike. He hadfar more reason now, yet never dreamed of still another--that report todepartment head-quarters. But Willett was his classmate, and,outwardly, they were friends. Bentley and, in fact, all the officers atAlmy were new-found acquaintances, well as some few were known to himby reputation. Still, it came to him something of a shock that HalWillett should no sooner seem well enough to be about than he shouldturn directly from her good-night words--her kiss, perhaps--to thegambling table and its probable accompaniments. It boded ill for thehappiness of that sweet girl's future, and as Harris sat brooding,Bentley, unheard, unnoted, slipped away, and presently, with brisk stepand buoyant mien, Hal Willett himself came bounding in. Barely tenminutes ago Bucketts had given the impression that he seemed dejected,dispirited, yet Willett now was confidence and energy personified.

  "Hefty, old boy, how much cash have you got in hand? I want threehundred dollars."

  There was no answer for a moment. Well as Harris thought he knewWillett, this was a surprise.

  "What for?" were the exact words of the response, and neither in tonenor manner were there encouragement.

  "I've got to pull out at dawn, I suppose you've heard, and I shouldn'tlike to leave I.O.U.'s--here!" And now the cheery confidence seemedevaporating. Willett's face was shading.

  "Won't you sit down?" asked Harris reflectively. "I'd like to knowsomething about--this."

  "There isn't time, Harris. I'm in a hole, so to speak. I hate to botheryou, but I'd rather come to a classmate and old friend, who is inposition, as I know, to help out, than give these fellows a chance totalk. Probably they've been talking already, and you've heard," andnow, with something like a resumption of the old familiar manner oftheir boy days at the Point, Willett settled on the broad, flat arm ofthe reclining chair and threw his own arm, long and muscular, over theback. There had come to be a saying in the gray battalion, when Willettwas seen strolling with a comrade, his arm caressingly encircling him,"Well, Willett's doing the bunco act again." Possibly it was theinstinctive shrinking of the wounded shoulder; certain it was thatHarris drew perceptibly away, and Willett noticed it. "I didn't hurtyou, did I?" said he.

  "It's rather touchy ye
t," was the answer.

  "Well, say, Hefty, here's the situation. You don't play, so you won'tappreciate, maybe, and I only play once in a good while, but they rungin a brace game on me. That fellow Case is no better'n a professional,and you saw for yourself here what a cad he could be. He got my moneythat Saturday night and Sunday, and since then, like the cad he is, hasrefused to play it out--give me a chance to get it back----"

  "Do you play with cads?" interrupted Harris.

  "Not when I know it--to start with," answered Willett, flushing andbeginning to draw away. Obviously the affectionate and confidentialmethod was a failure. "But when a man's got your money, cad or no cad,you want it back."

  "And Case has your three hundred dollars?"

  "Just about. Then I owe Craney and Watts quite a lot. I lost a hundredin cash in the first place. I never saw such luck in all my life! Andnow, instead of going back to Prescott, I've got to skip for thewar-path. Watts says the money he gave me in chips he owes to otherswho were in the game at one time or other, and he needs currency, notI.O.U.'s. Looks like a regular _com_bine, doesn't it?"

  "You couldn't expect to win--everything there was in sight," saidHarris quietly.

  Willett flushed again. He had slipped from the broad arm to the narrowcamp chair recently occupied by the doctor. Harris was displayingunexpected resistance. Willett had been accustomed to speediersurrender to his advances.

  "It's more on that account than any other I hate to leave here withthese things hanging over me," he answered moodily. Then, by way ofexpediting matters, "Time's mighty short--short as _I_ am--andWatts says you have a stack of greenbacks in the safe."

  Again silence a moment. Then Harris turned fully upon his visitor andspoke deliberately.

  "You ask me to do what I declared three years ago I never would do, andthat I have refused to do ever since--loan a man money with which togamble or pay gambling debts. I need this money, Willett, to send home.I've been saving and sending home ever since I joined, but that's notwhy I won't play--and don't drink."

  "Oh, we know how virtuous you are!" began Willett, with something likea sneer, but was checked with sudden, startling force. Harris almostsprang from his chair.

  "None of that, Willett!" he cried, his voice harsh with anger. "Yourways and mine are wide apart, but I'll stand no sneering. You come tome for help and you're going to get it, not because you scoff at myviews, but in spite of it; not for your sake, but that of the oldAcademy. You and I are the only West Pointers at this post, bar thedear old general. You and I are classmates, and I know you, and_don't_ believe in you, but the money's yours for the asking. Yousay you come to me as an old friend, and I have never had faith in yourfriendship. I know how other men's and some women's names have sufferedat your hands, and I don't know what you may have done to mine,but----" and now Harris was on his feet, standing over Willett--sittingthere gripping the frail arms of a canvas-covered straddle-box, andlooking up into the elder soldier's--the junior officer's--face inamaze. Never before had Willett been so braved by man or woman--"Butyour name shall be protected for just two reasons--and protected justso long as you can show you're worth it. But--Willett, I'm notpreaching on drink or gambling now. There's another thing you've got tostop--or I'm done with you." And then Harris himself stopped short.

  "I don't know what you mean," began Willett, shifting uneasily.

  "You _do_ know what I mean! You've only to go back to your graduatingJune, when you were spooning day and night over a society flirt thereat the hotel--a married woman at that--and your mantel-shelf wasstacked high with unopened, unanswered letters from the poor girl youwere engaged to. You were, Willett, in sight of God and man, so don'tdeny it! And she was telegraphing to me in pity to say was Haroldsick--or what. She broke with you, of course, after you broke herheart. And you've been at that sort of thing ever since, unless theDivision of the Pacific is a nest of liars--oh, bosh! I don't countCase, though it's like enough he told the truth. But now, Willett,you're _here_! and--what have we to expect at Almy?"

  "Damn my past all you like, Harris. No man's more ashamed of it than I,but don't damn my future!" And now Willett was on _his_ feet, his eyessnapping, his face aflame. "I was never so earnest in my life. [Smallcomfort that! thought Harris.] I never knew before what it was to beutterly in earnest. Stop it! Why, man, where have I--or you--ever knowna girl like _her_? Stop it! Oh, here, Hefty, I can't talk as I feel.You _must_ see how different this is--how much this means to me! Theman doesn't deserve to live that--that could be untrue to a girl likethat?"

  "That's--sound enough," said poor Hefty. "But how long will you hold toit?"

  "So long as I live, Harris," was the solemn, the surprising answer."God knows I mean it," and Willett held forth his hand.

  And Willett believed he meant it--firmly, solemnly believed he meantit, and his handsome face was never handsomer, never more eloquent oflove, repentance, determination to do a man's manful part infurtherance of his devotion than at this moment when, in the dimlylighted, scantily furnished, low-ceilinged little room, these two menof different mould, these classmates of the nation's soldier school,stood and looked into each other's eyes, and slowly Harris began tostretch forth his left hand, then, stopping suddenly, slipped the rightforearm from its broad white sling, steadied the elbow with his left,and slowly turned the thin, feeble fingers to meet the warm clasp ofthat before him.

  "It's one of 'Tonio's tricks," said he. "_Mano recto, mano cierto._Stick to that, Willett, and, by God, I'll stand by you in spite ofeverything I've ever thought or heard. Steady!"

  Somebody was at the door. Harris saw and checked the effusive thanks onWillett's lips.

  "What's that about 'Tonio?" said a ringing voice, as a "blouse" andbuttons followed the blue sleeve into the field of vision, and theadjutant came slowly in. "Queer! D'you know I was thinking of him thatvery minute. Signal fire out south-east! Some Indians want to talk andafraid to come in. Turner's gone out with a squad to sample 'em.Willett, how soon are you coming over? The general's got the despatchesready."

  "Right away, if you like! What's it now?"

  "Ten twenty," said Strong, with a squint at his watch. "There's nohurry. He's writing personals now, and Bentley's just up from thestore. There's news in of some kind from McDowell way, and Munoz andSanchez have jumped the game and quit. You'll probably have 'Patchieguides after all, Willett. Going down to the store after awhile?"

  "For a moment, perhaps, after I've said good-night at the general's,"answered Willett, anxious now to end the business and be away. But incame Bentley.

  "Get back to the office, Strong," said he; "the general wants you;Turner's in and says there's no one near the fire, no one to answer.All they found was this. The general thought you might understand it,Harris. It lay on a rock by the fire."

  He held forth a single feather, gray and white, tied with a bit of pinktape to a scrap of cardboard, torn from some cartridge case and foldedover. Within, roughly traced in paint, were two figures--a 3 and a 2.

  "It means, 'Tonio," said Harris simply, "and he wants to talk. What hashappened that he should be afraid to come in--here?"

  Willett heard and knew and would have stayed, but the doctor for oncelooked embarrassed, and Strong signalled Willet to come with him. "I'llbe back presently, Hefty," said Willett significantly, and vanished.

  Even then Bentley faltered. "I'll let the general answer that," saidhe. "How can 'Tonio be summoned in?"

  "Only as I did, at the Peak, and on honor that he may go," was theanswer. "Unless--I can go out to him."

  "You can't--to-night, anyhow! Is there no one else he'll meet who canunderstand him?"

  "Only one American--Case."

  "Humph!" was the answer, with a shrug and a keen, inquiring look in thedoctor's eyes. "I've shown it to Case, and he says 'Tonio has only oneobject in life now, in or out of the post, and that is to squareaccounts with Willett, who was ass enough to strike him. This fromCase, mind you, who, I believe, hates Willett himself. I've just gothim st
owed away for the night. Had to take him out of earshot of thestore and put him in limbo at Craney's shack, where he can't hearwhat's going on. I gave him a dose that would flatten out St. Vitushimself. There'll be no budging Case this night unless--but that isn'tlikely."

  "Then I need to go and see the general," said Harris.

  "Then the general will come to see you--here. My word for it," saidBentley, and went his way.

  It was then nearly eleven. Five minutes later Willett, with relievedheart and elastic step, was hastening back to the general's quarterswhere sweet, yet tearful, welcome awaited him. An hour later he steppedforth into the starlight, turning to kiss his hand and wave silentgood-night to a slender, shadowy form at the doorway, under the shelterof the gallery. Something in its pathetic droop and distress called himonce again to her side, and with fond, clasping arms he drew thesobbing girl to his heart and pressed kiss after kiss upon theupturned, tear-wet little face. "Try to sleep, my darling!" hemurmured. "Mother will wake you at four, and we'll have a moment beforeI go!"

  "Mother won't _have_ to wake me!" she cried, clinging to him the while."Oh, Harold, if you only had not--to meet 'Tonio again!"

  "No fear of 'Tonio, sweetheart," he answered. "Now, go I _must_!" Andso, with her kiss upon his lips, he left her to be led by loving motherhands to her little white room, and to her humble prayers, and thelove-guarded pillow, where, lying wide-awake, still an hour later, sheheard the shot and stifled scream that called a garrison to arms.