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

by Charles King

  CHAPTER XXI.

  The early game at Craney's had languished that evening. It was too nearpay-day--the wrong way--for money to be burning in soldier's pockets,and when the soldier has none the garrison hanger-on has no one to lookto. The couriers from the field column, being comfortably filled andfairly well tired, meandered off with their martial chums at tattoo.The few ranchers and packers hovered about the monte table awhile,hopeful, perhaps, of a clash between Dago and Munoz, but even this hopewas crushed when, just about taps, two belated Mexicans, innocent orreckless of the proximity of signalling Indians across the stream, camemule-bestriding into the glare of the common room sconces and "ola'd,"for Sanchez, who hurried out to meet them, heard their excited tale,cashed in his few chips, and took himself and fellows off. "Barkeep"stuck his head through the port-hole to the adjoining sanctum where satCraney, Watts, and that semi-military official known as the "contractdoctor," expectant, possibly, of others coming, and told them of the"greasers'" doings, whereat Case, nervously, irritably pacing thefloor, looked up in sudden interest and speedily plunged out into thedarkness. Then Bentley had come, just at the time when the few packersand ranch folk were making a noise, and Case had reappeared, lookingwilder, if anything, and declaring the greasers must have gone down tothe old Sanchez place, Indian or no Indian. Then Bentley had felt hispulse and asked a lot of questions, and led him off into a corner for alittle talk, and finally had prevailed on him to try to sleep in thevacant room at the "Shack," as Craney's own log-built cabin was called,and had led him away thither. He had never fairly gotten over therecent spree, said Craney. He would never explain what had induced himthat Sunday afternoon to quit his old resort in the willows and go upto the officers' quarters, but go he had, for "Sudstown" had seen him,and had seen him later slinking back the longest way round to thestore, keeping far from everybody, and looking badly shaken up. It wasknown, somehow, that he had been to the doctor's quarters, and, beinghalf drunk, had got into Lieutenant Harris's room and there had madesome noise and been ordered out. Rumor had it that there had been ascene between him and Lieutenant Willett, of which neither would speak,and the doctor had laid his commands on the attendant to knowabsolutely nothing about it--indeed, there was little he did know, savethat there had been a disturbance. It was supposed at the store, andgenerally in the garrison, that Case had been drinking just enough tomake him irresponsible, and in this condition he had ventured up to thepost and made an ass of himself just when he was being trumpeted as alion. Then, instead of having his spree out he had tried to taper,hence the highly nervous condition that had followed, which, instead ofgetting better, seemed getting worse.

  "I've fixed him," said Bentley, "provided he keeps his word," and then,bidding Craney good-night, had gone to garrison, and found the generalperturbed over Turner's report and the story about Munoz. Together theyhad gone to the store again, the general and his medicine-man, to havesome half-breed interpret the message of the feather, but by this timenone was left. Together they had looked in on Case and found him drowsyand indifferent, but both the commander and his faithful allydistinctly heard his half-mumbled words as to 'Tonio's one object inlife ere they came away, satisfied that Case would be of no further usefor another night and day. Then Bentley had hurried to his otherpatient with the result we have already noted, and a little later thegeneral went with him for still another visit, to soothe and reassureHarris, for the invalid officer was mad to be up and doing. There wassomething in the air.

  Later still a stupid three-handed cribbage game was going on when,after eleven o'clock, Willett came briskly in. Strong had about givenhim up and was going home in spite of an unsettled account in hisfavor, which Willett had proposed to play off. They were all tired andready for bed, and were only up because Willett was to leave and_should_ "square things" before leaving the post. The cribbage gamestopped at sight of him. Craney went with him to the private desk inthe inner office, whence in five minutes out he came, buoyant asbefore, declined to sit in again, laughingly said he'd take his revengeon the back trip later, called for a night-cap all round, badeeverybody in the room a cordial good-night and good-by, and left withStrong at his heels.

  "By gad!" said Craney, "he may not play like a sport, but he pays likeone, and a game one," and he locked a roll of treasury notes in hissafe. Then he and Watts and the disappointed deputy doctor went off tobed, leaving "barkeep" to close up when the few loungers quit payingfor drinks, and only in the common room was there further stir aboutthe store. Arrived at the shack, as Craney declared in the morning, hehad taken a candle and gone softly to the back room where he found Casein bed and either dozing or drowsy or drugged--at all events he carednot to speak. His hat, coat and trousers hung on a chair; his shoeswere at the foot of the bed, his watch on the table by his side, hismoney was locked in the trader's safe. Some medicine and a spoon stoodby the watch. There was no light in the room save that which Craneycarried; the one window was blanketed; sufficient air came through theloopholes, and the window sash was down against the hound pups thatwould otherwise have had free entrance. Then Craney went to bed andalmost immediately to sleep, and heard nothing until after one o'clock,when, with shocking news, men came banging at his double-locked andbolted door.

  Strong was one of the first to stir him, and Strong's face was white,as well it might be. As the sentries began calling midnight he had leftWillett at the office, saying he must turn in for a few hours' rest.Willett, seemingly in excellent spirits, had been writing a few pagesand addressing envelopes.

  "I'll follow in twenty minutes or so," said he, "for I, too, need asnooze. I'll be up as soon as I've finished a little business." Stronghad gone almost immediately to his pillow and to sleep, and was rousedby the corporal of the guard who had run in to call him with the newsthat Lieutenant Willett had been shot dead.

  At the moment of the shooting, so later said the guard, the waningmoon, only a dull crescent, was up far enough above the eastwardheights to throw a faint gleam over the valley. One of Turner's own menwas on post at the south-east corner, and his yell for the corporal,instantly following the distant shot, was so excited and vehement thatthe infantry non-commissioned officer, who went at a run, was minded torebuke him for raising such a row over a mere shooting scrape among theMexican packers. "Packers, your granny!" said Number Six. "It'sLieutenant Willett that's shot, and I know it! He came down out of theoffice not twenty minutes ago and went straight out south for Craney'sshack, and I'm betting he's done for."

  And so indeed it looked when they found him but few minutes later--thewhole guard, save the relief on post, coming swift at the run to thecorporal's cry, and the garrison turning out, thinking sure it wasfire. Three hundred yards or so south and east of the shack they foundhim lying flat on his face, which seemed forced into the soil,senseless, and for the moment apparently dead. Even when they turnedhim over and dashed water into his face, and brushed away the sand,there was no sign of life, nor sign of shot wound. Not until the doctorcame on the run, urged by breathless messenger, was the tinybullet-hole found under the left armpit, and such blood as had escapedseemed absorbed by the underwear. Internal hemorrhage was feared asthey unfastened his uniform and sought for further wound and foundnone. Craney bade them carry him to his own room, where there would bebetter light, and while some of them laid him on Craney's bed andothers carefully scouted the surrounding willows for trace of theassassin, and others still went in and stirred up Case, sleepingheavily, stupidly, "like a hog," said an indignant few until told ofthe doctor's "dope." Then Bentley came and drove all but an attendantor two, and Strong and Craney, from the room, until the generalarrived, his own face ashen, to ask what hope was left, got but adubious headshake in reply, and then sat him down, buried his sorrowingwhite head in his hands, and began to upbraid himself:

  "It's all my fault--my doing," said he. "I see it all. I said the wordsthat sent him!"

  And then to Bentley and Craney the veteran soldier told his story. Hehad had difficulty, as Bentley knew,
in persuading Harris not to getup--not to attempt to find 'Tonio that night; to wait until day, whenthe Indian more easily might be reached. It was late when he leftHarris, and was surprised to see lights at the office. There, allalone, was Willett, writing, and to Willett Archer told the message ofthe feather, and of Harris's eagerness to find 'Tonio at once.

  "Harris still holds that 'Tonio is utterly wronged, or at least utterlymisunderstood," said he, "and that, Indian as he is, 'Tonio would notrevenge himself on you as we supposed. 'Tonio knows he is suspected ofthe attempt to kill you, and yet wishes to come in and be tried. All heasks is fair play and trial before Crook himself. Then," continuedArcher, "I asked Willett in so many words if it were true that he hadstruck 'Tonio with a gauntlet that night at Bennett's, and he said,reluctantly, it was--that 'Tonio had been insolent, insubordinate, thatthat was the way he had always dealt with such cases. Perhaps with menlike 'Tonio it was all wrong, but he had never met Indians like 'Toniobefore. I told him gravely that he had made a serious error, and thathe should lose no time in getting word to 'Tonio that he realized thisand desired to make amend. Willett said he would do it the very firsttime they met--that he knew how to bring 'Tonio in and would talk tohim, man to man. I told him that it would be well to do this beforequitting the valley, on his way out in the morning, perhaps. But, myGod!" continued poor Archer, as he glanced at the senseless form overwhich physician and attendants were still working, "I never dreamed ofhis going out to-night. He said he should signal for a talk at themoment of starting with his escort, and so, probably, meet 'Tonio nearthe Peak."

  A solemn little gathering was this at the shack, while up at thequarters two sorrow-stricken women, Mrs. Archer and Mrs. Stannard, werestriving to soothe and still poor Lilian, to whom the truth had had tobe told. All the officers were up and astir, some of them conferringwith their gray-faced commandant at the doorway, others heading thesearch over among the willows and down the stream. A strange fact haddeveloped. Only one shot had been heard, only one shot hole had beendiscovered (and the probe indicated that the bullet, having struck arib, had been deflected downward, where it was not yet located), butwhile this had produced shock and, possibly, temporary unconsciousness,it was another blow, one with a blunt instrument, probably more thanone, upon the back of the head, that resulted in this prolonged stupor.Not once had Willett regained consciousness, nor, said Bentley, was itlikely that he would. Bentley feared concussion of the brain.

  Turner, a capital trailer, with some of the best of his men, wasworking down stream, and all who knew Turner felt that no trace wouldbe bunglingly trampled out. The few pathways along the west bank,through the willows, showed recent tracks on only one, where theMexicans and half-breeds had scurried away toward the old Sanchezplace. Already a strong party had been sent thither in search, butmeantime Turner was looking, as he frankly said, "for 'Tonio's tracksabout the ford," for within forty paces of the lower ford poor Willettwas found, and in the minds of every man and woman who could hold alistener that night no other explanation was either sought or expected.The fact that both shores of the stream were stony above and below thespot--that it would be easy for an Indian to conceal them, wouldaccount for it if their footprints were lacking, but lacking they werenot. In a dozen places about the ford and down the east bank, in adozen places around the spot where lay the stricken officer, theearliest comers had seen and marked and protected against obliterationprint after print of the moccasins of the Apache-Mohaves--'Tonio's ownband. This in itself was wellnigh proof positive, but more was to come.

  Willett's trail was easily found and followed. Straight and swift hehad gone across the flats from the post of Number Six, until within ahundred yards of the store, when, attracted possibly by the blearylights still remaining in the barroom, he had veered that way until hisfootprints were merged with dozens of others in the path. Presentlythey were found again, passing between the store and the shack, aroundin rear of the low log building, where at that time, presumably,Craney, Watts and Case were asleep in their respective rooms. It seemedas though he had paused and moved about a little in rear of the shackas though in search of some one, and then had gone straight out beyond,heading for the nearest clump of willows south of the ford, and thereit was found that the moccasin print overlaid that of the San Franciscoboot and followed it up stream to where the torn and trampled sands,close to the brink, told of furious struggle. Moreover, this onemoccasin print was wet and came over the stones and up the bank justabout where Willett had reached it, and paused a moment or two beforeturning away. At this point the stream babbled over rocky shallows, andit was possible to cross by springing from rock to rock without wettinga sole, but whoever had crossed here had been hurried and incautious.One foot had missed, slipped or trailed, and its covering was soakingwet as it followed on up the bank. It was still wet enough to leave, asthe lantern determined, a perceptible trace on the broadstepping-stones just below the placid pool at the ford, where theshores were low and sandy again--so wet, in fact, that the stain towardthe opposite bank and on the farthermost stone became a splash so darkthat the foremost sergeant, swinging his lantern aloft, sung out to hisfollower, "Watch out! It's blood!" and blood it proved to be--there andthereafter, down the opposite bank.

  Yet not a drop was seen on the sands where Willett fell. Then hisassailants had not escaped unscathed. Unarmed as he was, the officerhad made a desperate fight for life.

  "Now's the time to nab him!" said Turner, as he carried the report toArcher. "'Tonio has managed to elude Malloy's party, probably byleading them off on a false scent, but now we have blood to follow. Letme send out a platoon, mounted, and we may nail the gang beforesunrise."

  It was then short of two o'clock, and while busy trailers followed onwith their lanterns down the eastward bank, and were presently seenflitting like fireflies far south among the willows, Turner himself,with a score of his men, hastened back to quarters. There was saddlingin hot haste, yet with the precision of long practice. By half past twoall sight or sound of the trailers and the pursuing horsemen was lostin the distance, and a corporal, trotting back from the Sanchez place,reported that Munoz and some of his fellows had joined in the search,and already with important result. Captain Turner sent him back withhis compliments to the commanding officer.

  In the presence of Bonner, Bucketts and Strong, the general took thepackage, something heavy, bundled in the red silk handkerchief Turnerhad torn from his own brawny throat. A scrap of paper went flutteringto the ground, which the adjutant quickly recovered and handed to hischief, who read aloud in the dim candle light the words: "It might bewell to keep this from Harris, at least to-night."

  Looking a trifle dazed, Archer unrolled the silken folds, and laid onthe office table the handsome, silver-mounted Colt revolver of the oldcalibre 44 model Willett had lost that Sunday night of his perilousadventure up the valley. There it was, inscription and all, everyvisible chamber still loaded, its murderous leaden bullet showing inthe candle light. Archer slowly drew back the hammer. The cylinderslowly revolved. The barrel-chamber swung as slowly into view, black,powder-stained, and--empty. One shot, then, had been fired and veryrecently. Who could have had it all this time but 'Tonio? Who elsecould have fired it?