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

by Charles King

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  It was a merciful Providence, as many of the exiles later said, thatbrought the commanding general himself late that starlit evening backto Prescott. His stout mountain wagon, and special six-mule team hadwhirled him up from the Verde after the briefest of conferences withthe cavalry colonel there in command. An Indian runner from Almy hadreached them early that Thursday morning, announcing the return ofStannard and his troop, accompanied by Lieutenant Harris, 'Tonio andcertain of the Apache-Mohaves, the arrest by civil authorities andattempted suicide of Case, and the further gathering under the wing ofthe law of Jose Sanchez, of Munoz, and even of Dago, all of whom, itwas said, were wanted at Prescott. Stannard found the Archers gone,found himself, as senior captain, temporarily in command of the post,and called upon to furnish military escort for the civil _possecomitatus_. Stannard was a soldier pure and simple. He would have shownas a mammoth bull in a china shop had he and his troop been at themoment in the Southern states, instead of the south-western territory.He stood ready to do any amount of arresting the government mightorder. He was entirely willing to send a subaltern and a score oftroopers to convoy the entire party--sheriff and deputies, posse andprisoners--to the territorial capital, but, like the old war-horse hewas, he balked, stiff-necked and stiff-legged, at the sheriff's demandthat the escort should report to _him_--should be, in point of fact,under his orders.

  Not to put too fine a point upon it, Stannard had said he'd see himdamned first, whereupon the sheriff refused to make the trip, andappealed to the territorial authorities, while Stannard sent a runnerup to district head-quarters for instructions. Each messenger hadnearly ninety miles to go, so the race was about even, despite the factthat the sheriff's couriers were mounted and Stannard's runner wentafoot. The uninitiated would have backed the riders to win, butStannard backed the runner. The former were deputies and white; thelatter was Apache-Mohave and brown. The former had a road and aroadside ranch or two, whereat they might and did obtain rest andrefreshment. The redskin had only a trail, and no temptations. TheApache won out in a walk, literally a jog-trot. Luck as well as pluckfavored the latter, for he found the department, as well as thedistrict, commander at Sandy, and Stannard's instructions were startedback that very morning. "Come up yourself to Prescott," they said."Bring Harris and 'Tonio and such of 'Tonio's people as are necessary.Come prepared to stay a week at least, and be sure that Mrs. Stannardcomes with you. Use your own judgment as to route and escort. Offer thesheriff the protection, but by no manner of means the command, of yourparty."

  Having thus settled that question, the Gray Fox bethought him that itmight be just as well to scoot for home, lest other councils shouldprevail about the capital. Such councils had prevailed, and in therecent past. He had still in mind the embarrassing episode of Willett's"instructed" descent upon Almy. In view of all the resultantcomplications he could not well forget it, and so, having finished hischat with Pelham, the tireless brigadier went bowling away by mountainroad, the faithful Bright beside him, and was landed at his own doorsoon after eleven P.M. in abundant time to meet the situation on themorrow. Even in those days, when the stars went to the fighting forceinstead of the staff corps, it sometimes happened that a bureau officerhad political wires to work.

  And there were other reasons why he had come not a moment too soon.People had so little to talk about in those far Western wilds that theywho had, as related, unexpectedly met our hostess and her guest in thedarkness, and learned from them that they and Archer and Lilian hadbeen "looking on for ever so long," must needs hurry back to theballroom and tell it over and again. "Why didn't you bring them in?""Why didn't you make them come in?" were the questions impulsivelyasked and not easily answered. They couldn't make them come in! Mrs.Crook said they were far too tired! They had only just come down to seehow gay and pretty it all looked, and hear the music a minute, beforegoing to bed! Now they were going to bed!

  Then the people began looking for Willett and Evelyn Darrah. There werenot a few who would have been glad to be able to tell _them_ this pieceof news, but the bliss was denied. There was nothing unusual in dancersgoing out in the starlight, as had Willett and Evelyn. There wassomething odd about their not returning, however, and Mrs. Darrahpresently whisked the colonel home to see about it. Then they did notreturn. They found the two on the dark piazza, just home, as said thedaughter. She had a headache and could dance no more, and now would saygood-night, which she said, and that left the colonel alone withWillett. The mother followed the daughter in-doors to see _if_ she knewof the arrival, and then to see _that_ she did. The father felt his wayfor a moment for some means of getting rid, without rudeness, of thisdisturbing young man, and found that he could not. Willett hadsomething on his mind and, as soon as he saw it, Darrah was scared. Inevident mental excitement Willett had followed, closed the door afterher, then, pulling nervously at his mustache, had turned on theputative head of the house. "Colonel Darrah," he began in a moment, "Ihave something I feel I must say to you----"

  "Then _don'-t_, my boy, for God's sake!" said Darrah. "Say it to Mrs.Darrah, will you? She--er--settles all--this sort of thing for me. Sheunderstands--er--Evvy--if anybody does--I'm blessed if I can,and--er--if you don't mind, I--I--I think I'll say good-night. Have asmoke or a drink before you go?" he asked, in enforced and miserablerecognition of the demands of hospitality. "No? Well, of course, you'drather be back, I suppose," and so saying, he hoped to get Willett togo without being the one to either hear what Willett had to say or evento tell Willett what he knew--that at this very moment Lilian Archer,the girl to whom this young gallant's love and loyalty werepledged--was harbored there beneath their general's roof, where thelights were burning on the brow of the hill.

  So not for half an hour did Willett get the news. He would not returnto the hop room. He did not go directly home. He dimly saw the muleteam, at spanking trot, go rattling up the road; saw and heard it drawup at the general's, and then whisking back to the valley to depositBright. He divined at once that the chief must have returned andcongratulated himself that he would not be expected to pay his dutyuntil the morning, especially if he at once saw Bright. So upon hisfellow staff officer he projected himself with proper welcome, and thefirst question Bright asked was: "How are the Archers?" It had notoccurred to him that no mail had come up for nearly a week--thatWillett did not know that they had started from Almy three days before.Then Wickham came in and briefly said: "Certainly. They're up at thegeneral's. They were down at the dance awhile, looking on through thewindows," whereat Harold Willett's handsome face went white.

  Late as it was he knew he should go over at once, and he did, and itwas God's mercy, as Wickham said afterwards, that sent the beardedgeneral, not the gray-haired, raging father to meet him at the door.There had been a minute of tearful, almost breathless, conferencebetween the devoted couple before Archer released his wife from hisarms, sent her in to Lilian, and then came down as calmly as he couldto face his host and hostess. There had been a moment or two, in thesanctity of their chamber, in which this other devoted but childlesscouple--the Darby and Joan of the old army--conferred swiftly over thesituation, the wife briefly telling the soldier spouse of what she hadseen, heard and believed, and a glance at Archer had done the rest.Crook saw the anguish in the face of his old friend, and had onlymeasurably succeeded in calming him when Willett's step was heard uponthe veranda. The chief sprang to his feet. Archer would have followed,but with a silent, most significant gesture, the commander warned hiscomrade back. Then, closing the parlor door behind him, confronted theyoung officer in the silence and darkness of the veranda.

  What transpired in that brief interview was never told. Two or threecouples, wearying of the dance, and wending their homeward way, saw thetwo tall, shadowy forms in the dim light, saw that one of them wasstanding strictly at attention, and knew thereby that the other must bethe general, saw that the interview was very brief, for in a moment thecaller raised a hand in salute, faced about, and went somewhat heavilydow
n the steps and, avoiding both the main road and the pathway,disappeared in the direction of the bachelors' quarters under the hill.

  At ten the following morning a buckboard called at Willett's door, andthat young officer drove away in travelling rig, with a valise by wayof luggage, and when people inquired, as many did, and many more wouldhave done had they followed their inclination, what took Willett awayin such a hurry and--er--at such a time, all that black-bearded Wickhamwould say was, he heard it was a wagon. As for Bright, one might aswell seek information of the Sphinx. There never was a man who, knowingall about a matter, could look, as more than one fair critic had beenheard to say, so exasperatingly, idiotically ignorant. At noon,however, it was known that Willett's wagon stopped but a few moments onthe plaza in the little mining town and capital, then shot awaysouthward on the Hassayampa road.

  Three days later the array of "Casually at Post" on the morning reportof Fort Whipple showed an increase of something like a score.Lieutenant Briggs with a sergeant and a dozen troopers rode in theprevious evening, after turning over a quartette of dusky civilians atthe calaboose, and leaving a guard at the hospital in charge of apallid, nervous, suffering man, whom a big-hearted post surgeonreceived with compassionate care. The doctor had known him in betterdays. It was what was left of the recent lion of Camp Almy--Case thebookkeeper.

  Among the arrivals extraordinary at head-quarters on the hill wereCaptain and Mrs. Stannard of Camp Almy, Captain Bonner, LieutenantStrong, post adjutant thereat, and then, as Bright's special guest, wasLieutenant "Hefty" Harris, of old Camp Bowie, and as Bright's specialcharge were 'Tonio, sometime chief of the Red Rock band ofApache-Mohaves, Kwonahelka, his associate and friend, with two youngbraves of the tribe, Kwonahelka's shy, silent wife and her ward, amotherless young Apache girl, sister to Comes Flying, he whose untimelytaking off had so seriously complicated the Indian question in thedistrict of the Verde. Bright had his Apache visitors comfortablystowed, and abundantly provided for, close to his own roof, and 'Tonio,charged with serious crimes against the peace and dignity of the peopleof the U.S. in general, and Arizona in particular, received with nativedignity at the entrance to his canvas lodge callers and evencongratulations--for great was the desire to see him--and, unbailed,unhampered, untrammelled by fetter, guard or shackle, calmly awaitedhis examination before the Great Chief with the coming of the morrow.Soldiers like Crook and the staff of his training knew 'Tonio and hislineage, and unlike Willett, valued his word.

  And early on that morrow Willett reappeared, delivered certaindespatches at the office long before office hours, betook himself tohis quarters for bath, shave and breakfast, and behind closed doors andshrouded windows, awaited the summons if needed to appear before thedepartment commander. His narrative long since had been reduced towriting. Between him and black-bearded Wickham there had been onesignificant interview, never till long afterwards given even tointimates on the general's staff. As for 'Tonio, to no one less wouldhe plead his cause than the department commander himself, the GreatWhite Chief.

  Never in the chronicles of that sun-blistered land, home of thescorpion and rattlesnake, the Apache and tarantula, had that sun shoneon scene so dramatic as that the Exiles long referred to as "'Tonio'sTrial," and never, perhaps, was trial held with less of the panoply andobservance of the law and more assurance of entire justice.

  It was a great chief trying a great chief. The powerful commander ofthe department sitting in judgment on the once powerful head of awarlike band, long since scattered, absorbed, merged in neighboringtribes, worn down in ceaseless battling against surrounding forces andimplacable Fate. Crook knew the Indian as it was given few men to knowhim, and in his own simple, straightforward way generally dealt withthe Indian direct. But here was a case, as he well understood, where hewho had once moved the monarch of these silent, encircling mountains,stood accused of treachery to the hand that had fed, sheltered anduplifted him, to the Great Father whose service he had sought, to thewhite chiefs, old and young, whom he had sworn to obey. If guilty hedeserved the extent of the law, if innocent, the fullest vindication ofthe highest power he and his people knew and recognized. To no merecaptain or even post commander would 'Tonio plead. To no agencyofficial would he trust himself or his cause. There was one soldierchief whom every Indian of the Pacific Slope knew well by reputationand by name--the chief who spoke ever with the straight tongue and toldthem only the truth--the chief who never broke his word or let othersignore it. "Gray Fox" they named him later among other tribes, butthese of the Sierras spoke of him only as "Crook."

  On the greensward, close to the assembly hall in the low ground, thecouncil lodge was pitched--two huge hospital tent flies having beenstretched from tree to tree, braced on uprights; and there, in a littlesemi-circle, sat the general with his principal officers abouthim--gray-haired, pale-faced Archer, looking strangely sad and old, athis right--black-haired Wickham at his left, and high officials of thestaff departments on either flank, the judge advocate of the departmenthaving a little table and chair at one side that all legal notes mightbe made. Half a dozen officers of the garrison, with Colonel Darrah attheir head, grouped in rear of the council. Three or four orderliesstood about, but, by order, not a rifle or revolver could be found inthe entire array. Seated to the right and left were officers prominentin the recent campaign--Stannard, Turner, Bonner, Strong and Harrisamong them, while at a distance, among the cedars and looking curiouslyon, were gathered the wives and families of the officers, with theirguests and attendants--at a distance that the dignity of the occasionin the eyes of the Indian race might not be put in jeopardy by thepresence of a woman.

  Further still, on the other side across the trickling brook, to thenumber of near two hundred, men, women and children, soldiers, citizensand strangers, all in silence awaited the first act of the drama--thecoming of 'Tonio with his retinue, marshalled by that expert master ofaboriginal ceremonies, Lieutenant Bright.

  And presently he came. No picturesque war bonnet distinguished him. Norobe or mantle hung in stately folds about his form. 'Tonio sought not,as does his red brother of the plains, the theatrical aid of impressivecostume. Tall, spare and erect, his sinewy legs and arms bare almosttheir entire length, his moccasins worn and faded, but his fillet,camisa and trailing breech-clout almost snowy white; destitute ofplume, feather, necklace, armlet, ornament of any kind, unarmed, yetunafraid, with slow and measured stop the chief approached the counciltent, three of his warriors in his train, and, escorted by Bright,turned squarely as he came before the outspread canvas, entered beneathits shade, and stopping midway across the greensward, his head upheld,his black eyes fixed in calm, reposeful trust upon the general's face,halted and stood simply before him, saying not a word.

  "'Tonio, will you be seated?" asked the general, and an orderly steppedforward with a camp chair. Even before the interpreter could translate,'Tonio understood, motioned the orderly aside, turned and signalled tohis followers, who quickly settled to the ground and seated themselves,cross-legged, in half circle beneath him, but the chieftain, accused,would stand. On the dead silence that followed, all men listening withattentive ear, even the women and children across the little ravine,hushing their nervous giggle and chatter, 'Tonio's voice was presentlyuplifted, neither harsh nor guttural, but deep and almost musical. Inthe tongue of his people he spoke seven words, and there seemed no needof the interpreter's translation:

  "My father has sent for me. I am here."

  CHAPTER XXVIII.

  A strange tribunal was this--"a method of procedure," as the actingjudge advocate of this distant department took frequent occasion totell us when the general wasn't around, "that would seem to have nowarrant in law." Something to this effect being suggested to thegeneral by the chief of the department staff, who went on to say thathe supposed it was a case of "_Inter arma silent leges_," the general'sbeard, which hid his mouth, was observed to twitch, and the wrinkles atthe corner of his steely-blue eyes followed suit. It was a way of hiswhen trying _not_ to
smile. Then Bright was heard to say that where thelaws were silent, wise lawyers should he likewise, an epigram whichlong-legged Lieutenant Blake, of Camp McDowell, was delightedly andexplosively repeating for the benefit of certain of the ladies lookingon from among the cedars, even as 'Tonio appeared. Then no crier wasneeded to proclaim silence and declare this honorable court now open.Blake had come to Prescott ruefully expectant of official displeasure,and found it, so far as the chief of staff was concerned. But thegeneral's greeting had been so cordial and kind that "Legs" took heartinstanter. There was evidently something behind it.

  Mrs. Crook had marshalled her forces early that brilliant morning. Campchairs and rugs had been sent down to the cedars, and with two of herfavorites, Blake and Ray, in attendance, she and her guests from CampAlmy were seated where they could watch the proceedings and almost hearwhat was said. Many a curious glance was levelled in their direction,for by Mrs. Stannard's side sat Lilian Archer, pale almost as a calla,and rarely smiling or speaking, but, as all Fort Whipple could see, shewas _there_, whereas Evelyn Darrah had not been out since the night ofthe dance. The colonel had explained, as he was probably bidden, thatEvvy had contracted a severe cold, and her mother could not leave her.At least, said certain eager spectators, Willett must now be here, "forhe is back from McDowell, or wherever he went." But even in this therewas disappointment. The general had looked to that. Willett'saccusation against the chieftain had been reduced to writing. It hadall been carefully translated to 'Tonio, as had the reports of the postcommanders of Camps Almy and McDowell. No further allegations had been,or were to be, made. With his witnesses in readiness, 'Tonio stoodbefore the Great White Chief, the only man, save one, perhaps, to whomhe would deign full explanation.

  And now, with the agency interpreter at his left and the agent himselfseated among the officials, an eager and nervous listener, 'Toniostrode forward a pace or two, halted, looked calmly round upon thecircle of expectant faces, then, the observed of every eye, the objectof absorbed attention, with occasional use of a Spanish phrase, but, asa rule, speaking only in the dialect of the Apache, the tall chieftainbegan. With every few words he would pause, that the interpreter mightrepeat. It would be difficult, indeed, to translate his exact words orto portray their effect. To imitate the simple dignity of the agingwarrior would be in itself a triumph of dramatic art.

  "My father has told me of the lies against my people--and me. My peopleare not many now, and we are poor, often hungry and homeless, and ourhearts are sore. We believed the promise of our father and we strove toobey him, but while he was gone, and we knew not where to find him,others came, unlike him. Our enemies, the Tontos, were many and strong.Their agent gave them much meat and bread, but my people were denied.The Tontos jeered at them; their young braves taunted ours, and ouryoung women were afraid. The Tontos killed our white brothers andburned their homes, and said it was we. Then the soldiers came toarrest Comes Flying, and Comes Flying was killed, and my people fledfar in among the Red Rocks. They had done no wrong, but they wereafraid. Then the Tontos killed our white brother, Bennett, always ourfriend, and burned his house and carried away his wife and children.Our young men were few, but they followed and fought the Tontos and gotthe woman and her little ones and tried to hide them away among therocks until white soldiers could come, but there came more Tontos. Theywere too many, and they kept between the soldiers and Comes Flying'sband. They killed two of our young men and got the woman once more, andthen my young chief, Capitan Chiquito, followed, with only the bravesyou count on one hand, but he caught the Tontos and rescued the woman,and was shot. Gran Capitan Stannard brings me, and all his soldiers,and follows after the Tontos, but it was Capitan Chiquito who firstreached her, and who would have saved her and her babies in theirhiding-place, only he was held back--held back----" and with his headhigh and his black eyes sweeping the circle, 'Tonio stood and glaredabout him in search of an absent accuser. Then, with appeal in hisgaze, he turned once more to the general.

  "It is as 'Tonio says," answered Crook, with grave inclination of thehead. "His brother chief, Captain Stannard, sustains him. Is it not so,Stannard?"

  "Every word of it, sir!" was the blunt reply, as Stannard rose from hisseat. "We found two Apache-Mohaves killed. We chased the Tontos intothe mountains. Lieutenant Harris and 'Tonio, with Apache-Mohave scouts,rescued Mrs. Bennett, and led us." Whereat Archer's sad, white face wasbowed upon his hands. Oh, that luckless despatch!

  "We are listening, 'Tonio," said the general, as Stannard slowlyresumed his seat, looking almost disappointed that there had been noneto contradict or doubt his view.

  "My father asks me why I left the camp after we had brought home ourCapitan Chiquito. It was because my people came to the willows andcalled me. The sister of Comes Flying was weeping for her brother.Ramon and Alvarez were angered and talking battle and revenge, andPancha came to warn me and to beg me come or there would be muchtrouble. My young men were doubly angered. They said the white brotherhad broken his promise, had feasted the Tontos and had starved them,had killed Comes Flying and driven our women and children to themountains. They had seen more. They had seen their chief struck in theface with the glove of the young soldier chief--who is not here." Andagain the black eyes sought everywhere throughout the circle. "Ramon,Alvarez and others had vowed that he should die because of Comes Flyingand of me. It was for this they played all so many hours with theriders from the Verde. They would head them off and hold them. Thesoldiers would come to rescue, and maybe the young chief. If so, theywould lure him out beyond the others, and they did. I could not breaktheir will. I saw their plan only just in time. They were in hidingamong the rocks beyond the ridge, with only one or two in sight beforethem. He was galloping straight into their trap. There was just one wayto save him and be true to our pledge to the Great Father. I shot tokill his horse, not him. My rifle would have carried just as true hadit been aimed at his heart. He who struck me at the ranch--anddenounced me here--owes his life to 'Tonio."

  In the dramatic pause that followed a murmur of sympathy andadmiration, irrepressible, flew from lip to lip. He noted it, but gaveno sign.

  "The young white chief says again I shot or sought to kill him thatnight at the ford. Again I could have done so, and again I sought tosave. He was my enemy. He was"--and here, with affection all could see,the glittering eyes seemed to soften as they turned on Harris, sittingpale, silent and observant--"the enemy of this my brother and myfriend. I would no longer go within the soldier lines. In spite of whatI had done the white-haired chief ordered his soldiers to kill or takeme prisoner. They could not find me, but I tried to warn my brotherthere was trouble--they would kill _his_ brother chief, then therewould be fearful war, but my brother was wounded still and could notcome.

  "Then the young stranger chief was lured out again by Sanchez--hispeople and mine. They swear to me they did not kill him--that the whiteman, Case, did that. He, too, hated him. But Sanchez lied to me. Hepromised to take back the pistol my people found the night I shot hishorse, and he never did, nor messages I sent. So I know not who firedthe shot, who clubbed him, _but_ Sanchez had that pistol--Sanchez liedto me! I was not that night so near as the Picacho, and when thesoldiers came to find me I went farther, with two of my people. We metthe Great Chief's couriers. We met more Tontos. We fought them back andI was wounded. They took me to McDowell, and no man was unkind untilthe night they put me in the iron cell with Sanchez, and he told me Ishould never see the Great Chief, my father; that I should hang forshooting the white chief, Willett. When I slept he was there. When Iawakened he was gone, and the iron bars were gone. I went out into thenight--into the mountains--until I found my young chief. Then the truthwas told me. Then we followed, and found Sanchez. Then my people heardthe story and helped me find the way to the cave where the boys werehidden. The Great Spirit of my fathers knows I have never broken mypromise. That is all that 'Tonio can say. I have spoken."

  And then as he finished and the last word had been translated, all inla
nguage far less vivid than his native tongue, all men seemed tobreathe a sigh of relief and seek instinctively to rise and gatherabout him. The general slowly found his feet, rose to his full height,stepped straightway forward to where the Indian stood, placed his lefthand on the gaunt and bony shoulder, and with his ungloved right seizedand grasped and held that of the elder chieftain, his own eyestwinkling, moistening, as he spoke.

  "'Tonio--Brother--the Great Father shall know, and if I live, all hispeople shall know, how deeply you have suffered, how truly you havestood our friend."

  And then, still clasping the warrior's hand, Crook turned to hisofficers, for by this time every man was on his feet, every eye wasagain upon them, every face lighted with interest, and many withemotion. Silently the general glanced about him, and at his signalArcher came forward, his handsome old head bared, his fine eyesfilling. At his approach the commander drew back a step, releasing'Tonio's hand. Then the soldier who but a fortnight back had sought toprison, possibly to kill, this soldier of the desert and the mountain,following his superior's lead, held forth his hand, a thinned andtrembling one, yet the clasp in which it took that sinewy brown one wasone an Indian could never doubt. Looking straight into 'Tonio'sfearless eyes, the veteran spoke: "'Tonio--Brother--I did you wrong. Ibeg your pardon and I ask your friendship."

  For a moment, silence, then for answer came but the single word:

  "_Hermano._"

  When presently hands unclasped and others began to gather about him, itwas seen as Stannard came forward he had linked his arm in that ofHarris, and would not be denied. The general caught sight of them, anda smile like sunshine lighted up his beaming face. "That's right,Stannard. This way, Capitan Chiquito! We all want you." And then,though by dozens now--officers, agent, interpreter and territorialofficials--they were swarming about the impassive central figure, theygave way right and left that the two friends might meet, and 'Tonio,turning from Archer's handclasp, saw his young champion and leader, andthe stern, dark features melted, the bold, fearless, challenging eyessoftened on the instant. He would have sprung forward to some act ofIndian homage, but Harris was too quick and checked him. Their eyesmet. Then both hands--all four hands--went out at once.

  It was at this juncture, as certain of the department staff began tobethink themselves of important duties awaiting them at their offices,that one of the old-time characters of the old army, a field officer ofdistinction in the war days, was heard to express himself somewhat asfollows: "Well, whereaway is Willett now?"--a question that hadoccurred to every member present, and to many a man and woman withoutthe council, but this was its first audible expression.

  "Willett," said the general calmly, yet in tone that all beneath thecanopy could hear, "made known to me days ago that he desired towithdraw his accusation, but I had my reason for insisting. As to thequestion, where is Willett?--he is here to testify, if need be, beforea civil court. We have still to settle with Sanchez."

  Moreover, as the Indians finally moved away, Bright and Harris bothescorting 'Tonio, there were emissaries of the agency at their heels,for in 'Tonio's train walked both Ramon and Alvarez, on whom it mightbe well to keep an eye.

  But 'Tonio's trial--"'Tonio's triumph," as Blake declared it--was notyet over for the day. The watchspring saws and tiny file found onSanchez, when finally taken, had explained the method of that McDowellescape. With these and with bacon-rind to grease them, only a littletime and labor had been needed, nor was there ever found proof againstCorporal Collins, or the sentry, that either had connived at thesubsequent escape of 'Tonio. He had awakened and found his undesiredcellmate missing, and the window was clear. So that way he could havegone, though there were many who believed the door itself had beenopened to him. In any event, he saw freedom without, and suspectedwrong and treachery within. Why should he not go? Who was to blame him?Crook's cordiality to the accountable officer of the day, LieutenantBlake, went far to show that he was far from resentful of the result.It really looked as though the Gray Fox would rather 'Tonio had neverbeen confined.

  And later that winter's day, along toward sunset, another scene, farless dramatic and impressive, was enacted at the office of the sheriff,a mile away in town.

  An adobe wall, some seven feet high, surrounded the corral, and beneaththe canvas awning on the southern side certain offenders against thepeace and dignity of Yavapai County had been assembled under the eye oftobacco-chewing deputies. There were the Sanchez half-brothers,'Patchie and Jose, both shackled. There was Munoz, similarly decked.There slouched Dago, unfettered, but carefully watched. There were twomore of the riffraff of the redoubtable ghost ranch, and two of thevictims of the more skilful play, and potent doping, of theproprietors. All were under surveillance, several under charges, butwhere was Case?

  It was Blackbeard who answered that question at five o'clock, when,from the post ambulance, he and Bright sprang forth, and presentlyaided to alight a very solemn-looking civilian, shaved, dressed andgroomed with extreme care, but for pallor and nervousness, areputable-looking criminal--Case. Accused with assault with attempt tokill, the bookkeeper, none the less, had been taken in charge byofficers of the army, with the entire consent of the officers of thelaw, and Sanchez the elder, Jose, that is, weakened at the sight ofhim. He was sober and clothed in his right mind, as Wickham meant heshould be. Moreover, he looked no longer afraid. Case had met hismaster at the game of bluff, and now, with nothing left to hope, hadnothing left to dread.

  Short work the sheriff made of the matter in hand. There had been akilling down on the Agua Fria, and the killer was still at large. Herewas only a bungling attempt to kill, and everybody concerned was athand.

  "Case," said he shortly, "when you were brought here you swore it was'Tonio who shot Lieutenant Willett."

  "I didn't swear," said Case. "I stated; but either would have beenwrong. I said it when myself accused and when I had been drinking. I amready to tell everything I know."

  "Then wait a moment," answered the official, turning to a deputy, whopulled at an inner door, and said, "This way, gentlemen," whereateverybody filed out into the corral where there was far more room, andwhere presently they were joined by the agent and his interpreter, by alittle group of officers, Stannard, Strong and Willett--the latter verypale and weary-looking. A moment later the gateway swung open and inwalked Harris, with 'Tonio by his side and two tribesmen following. Thegate was quickly closed in the face of an eager knot of townspeople,but at sight of the assembled party the Sanchez brothers cowered stillfarther back beneath the shelter, and the sheriff ordered Jose out intothe light. He came, yellow-white, and cringing.

  "You said, first, that 'Tonio shot that man," and the sheriff pointedto Willett. "Did you lie?"

  "_Si_," gulped the Mexican.

  "Then who did it?"

  Jose shrank. His eyes furtively, quickly swept the group, then fellagain.

  "You said Case--this man," said the sheriff, with a hand on Case'sshoulder. "Did you lie again?"

  "He--he shoot, an' run away."

  "You lie, three times! Only one shot was fired and that from your ownpistol. Here it is! Case never had it, for all you swore to it."

  "Munoz saw him--shoot!"

  "That so, Munoz? Come out here!" and a deputy collared and thrust himforth.

  "_Si_; Case," answered Munoz miserably.

  And then at last the dago broke bounds. All the pent-up hatred of themonths boiled over in his heart. All the fear vanished in presence ofthese supporters and at sight of these now abject bullies. Out hesprang, all vehement denunciation:

  "Lie!" said he--"damn lie! Munoz hit!--Sanchez shoot! All try kill.Then run--run, for soldiers come!"

  It was then that Lieutenant Willett stepped forward and interposed.

  "Mr. Sheriff," said he, "whatever my earlier opinion on the subject, Iknow more now. I know it was not 'Tonio. I believe it was notthis--this gentleman--Mr. Case. If you will favor me a moment I canmake it clear to you, but"--and here the heavily lashed, mournful brow
neyes sought the group of Mexicans--"I should hold--those fellows."

  And so, once more within the little office, Willett briefly told histale. There were present Wickham, Bright and Harris, the sheriff andone deputy. "I should be glad to have you call in Mr. Case," said he.So Case was summoned and came and took a chair by the chimney and bowedhis head upon his hands.

  "There had been a card transaction," said Willett. "I owed Mr. Casethree hundred dollars, and he or his friends thought I was going toleave without settling. He sent me a note saying he wished to see me.It was midnight before I could go down. He had left the office, buthailed me from the window of Craney's shack. We met near the ford, hadwords, and I struck him--struck him twice, knocking him down, and thenhis friends, or followers, as I supposed, pitched upon me. I surely sawone Indian, and, knowing 'Tonio's--grievance, and being warned againsthim, that was the last idea I had, as I was knocked senseless. Mr.Sheriff, I refuse to enter any complaint against Mr. Case. Heis--entirely blameless."

  "That seems to let _you_ out, Case," said the sheriff sententiously,but the bookkeeper never raised his head.

  "Is there anything else I can say--or do?" asked Willett, holding hisnatty forage-cap at the side of his head. "It should be done now,for--I am to leave here--to-night."

  It was then Case's turn. In an instant he was on his feet.

  "Going?" he demanded, a strange, hungry look in his eyes. "I'm not yetfree, and I've got to speak with you."

  "There is no need," said Willett gravely. "I _know_."

  "You mean?--you heard----?"

  "My letters have told me--everything," was the quiet answer.

  "And you are going?"

  "Back to Portland--and to----"

  With that he would have turned, but Case sprang forward. There wasperceptible start among the lookers-on. It might mean another attempt.The sheriff seized him, but Case, with feverish strength, shook himselfloose, and Willett turned back, faced him, and waited for him to speak.It was a moment before Case could find breath, then came the words:

  "My God, man! Will you give me your word--your hand--on that?"

  For all answer Willett drew off the dainty glove of white lisle thread,took the outstretched hand of Case, wrung it, and turned in silencefrom the room.

  There were men who mounted and rode with him a mile or more that night,and came back silent and sorrowing, yet thinking better of Hal Willettthan any of their number had ever thought before.

  "He has gone to do the one square thing that's left him," said OldStannard, as the buckboard whirled away, "and his resignation goes withhim."

  L'ENVOI.

  That was many a long year ago, and for many a month thereafter men andwomen at Whipple and Sandy, McDowell and Almy would talk for hoursabout Willett, his strange character, his broken career. It was notlong before the truth, the whole truth, was known. Case for a timewould not return to Almy. He found some work to keep him busy atPrescott, and would have had to do no work at all, said the agent ofthe Wells-Fargo, "if he'd kept his money, but he sent every damned centof four hundred dollars to somebody up at Portland." He was forever onthe lookout for the coming of the buckboard with the mail--we had notelegraph until '74--and his excitement over the receipt of certainletters and newspapers, along in mid-February, was something not soonto be forgotten. He had been sober and solemn as an anchorite for oversix long weeks, and this night, to the joy of the gamblers in theAlcazar, insisted on "setting 'em up" for all hands, soldier andcivilian; then, to their amaze, insisted further on their drinking tothe health of Mr. and Mrs. Hal Willett, by gad! "for he's a square manat last."

  And the news lacked no confirmation at the barracks. There came amissive to Wickham; there was a message to the general; there was avery earnest message to 'Tonio; there was even a letter in Willett'shand to Evelyn Darrah. No one ever saw its contents save the girl towhom it was addressed, but there came nothing to be forwarded to theArchers at Camp Almy. From that night among the cedars Lilian neveragain saw Harold Willett. It was a pitifully insignificant littlepacket of letters the young officer found on his desk the morning ofhis return from the Hassayampa road. It contained only the pages he hadpenned to his Lily of the Desert. The earlier ones were fond,endearing, sweet as girl could ask, and had been rapturously welcomed,read and reread, kissed and fondled and treasured. The later ones werehurried, perfunctory, full of excuses, full, alas! of lies that he knewand that he hated himself for writing. There was not so much as a linefrom her, nor was one needed. Between the few words spoken by hisgeneral in the darkness of the veranda and that one conference withWickham, Willett knew exactly what he had to face. Just as it haddawned upon him that breathless night at Almy, when the ravings of theIrish deserter told him that his sin had followed and had found himout, he realized here at Whipple that all was known and, for him, allwas over. He had burned in vain the burning and accusing letters thatpoor girl in Portland had written him. Her mother at last, learningeverything, had written to Crook, and, through Wickham, who hadinvestigated both Case and the deserter Dooley, Willett received his_conge_. There should be no public break. It was to be announced thatat his own request Lieutenant Willett stood relieved from duty asaide-de-camp to the department commander, and would proceed to rejoinhis regiment in the Department of the Columbia; but even Wickhamstarted with surprise and incredulity when, accompanying thisapplication, at the close of 'Tonio's dramatic trial, Willett gravelyhanded him another paper--his resignation as an officer of the army.

  "I do not understand this as--demanded," said Blackbeard, lookingquickly into Willett's pallid face.

  "You will, when you remember that my wife--and child--would hardly beacceptable in army circles," was the quiet reply.

  "You mean--you are going at once to marry her?"

  "What else should I do?" said Willett.

  And this it was that explained his unlooked-for escort beyond theborders of the little reservation, Stannard's words of commendation,and Case's ebullition at the Alcazar.

  Case had not many more. Craney coaxed him back to Almy after awhile,where every one from Archer down to the drum boys showed him many akindness, and where from time to time he received letters that seemedto bring him comfort, in spite of the fact that Bonner, Bucketts andeven gruff old Stannard, when they spoke of it at all, were given tosaying that there was little happiness in store for the poor girl atPortland, for Willett was not made of the stuff that kept man faithfullong to any one woman. It was rumored for awhile that the littlefamily, having moved northward to one of the new and boomingsettlements on the Sound, were living in poverty and seclusion,Willett's wealthy kindred in the East scorning him, as was to beexpected, for the _mesalliance_ and for his abandonment of theprofession he was expected to adorn. But the embryo "Smart Set" and thetried old Service had little in common, at best. It was in the employof the Engineer Corps that Willett found means to keep the wolf fromthe door, and the girl was happier longer than most people would havebelieved possible, for it was full three years before Willett's fatherdied, and, relenting, willed him prosperity. Some time after that therecame a tale of Evelyn Darrah, but, as the best authority would say,"that's another story."

  With Case, however, life seemed to have lost its inspiration. Hewandered more and more from the paths of rectitude to those whichmeandered through the willows and the old ghost walk. The firm ofSanchez y Munoz had gone to seed, the ranch to ashes, and theindividual members to jail. Dago had accompanied Mrs. Bennett and thegrowing babies to her brother's ranch on the Agua Fria. The Indians hadbeen gathered to their reservations, and 'Tonio, with LieutenantHarris, has been assigned to service under the eye of the Great Chiefhimself. A new post, a big post, was projected nearer the reservation.It was rumored that Almy would then be abandoned and Case would nothave even the ghost walk for his solitary moonings when the whiskeyspell was on him, and the spells, though no more frequent, as theScotchman would have it, were of longer duration. He had takenstrongly, not strangely, to Stannard and his gentle wife, and it was t
othem he told at last the story of his troubles, and through them, longyears after, it became known.

  He was doing well in Portland, had fallen deeply in love with, and wasengaged to, as pretty a girl as ever was seen, good and gentle, too;but she was young, the belle of her set, a beautiful dancer, and Casecould not dance. She loved gayety, pleasure, music, and in those daysthey picnicked over to Vancouver, and danced in a big barrack to thestirring strains of the band of the Lost and Strayed, and why shouldn'tthe Portland girls love to dance with the young officers? Why shouldn'tEstelle enjoy dancing with such finished performers and partners? Therewas one at that time who outclassed them all, and in an evil day theymet. It wasn't long before her fascination became infatuation, andeither there or in Portland, or somewhere, they were forever meeting.It was not long before Case saw his world swept from before his eyes.He did his best with her, with her mother and friends, but she told himflatly that she loved Lieutenant Willett and would be no man's wife buthis. That clinched Case's downfall--and hers, but not until after Casesaw Willett at Camp Almy, and her mother's letters, and hers, beganagain to come, did he learn the worst. Then came Willett's devotions toArcher's gentle little daughter, and the rage within his soulovermastered him. He would not--he could not--bear to tell of Estelle'sshame. He dare not, he owned it, oppose himself man to man, physically,to Willett, but he burned with desire for revenge. Sanchez and his kindwere willing tools. Ramon and Alvarez, they told him, were thirstingfor Willett's blood. It would be easy enough to shoulder it all on'Tonio, if the worst came to the worst. Sanchez had Case deep in hisdebt, for monte had fascinated him when in liquor. They did not knowWillett had left with Craney payment in full for their financialdifferences. They insisted on his seeing Willett and making him paybefore he left the post. Dago had the run of the garrison, and Dagotook the few lines that told Willett if he was a man to come down tothe ghost walk and settle, dollar for dollar, man to man, or the storyof his Portland days should be told the Archers. Sanchez, Munoz, andthe two Apache-Mohaves were lurking there across the stream. Casewatched for him from the rear window, saw him, and in spite of thedoctor's precaution, counteracted by the whiskey he had hidden in aninner pocket, he slipped out in his stocking feet, took the path to theford, and there met Willett face to face. It was all so easy. Sanchezknew 'Tonio was near, grieving that no answer came from Harris,signalling for a talk, ignorant of the fact that Sanchez had deliveredneither the revolver nor the message. Case had with him only his knife,for he knew his confederates would be at hand. He vowed he did not knowthat they were bringing Ramon and Alvarez. Raging with jealousy, hate,desire for vengeance, and nerved by liquor, he had demanded his money.Willett contemptuously bade him seek it of his employer, and asked himhow he dare doubt a gentleman, whereat, in a fury, Case told him, orstarted to tell him, why, and was knocked flat in a second. He sprangup, knife in hand, and rushed upon him a second time, only to befloored again, and the knife sent spinning. Willett seized it, and wasstanding over him, panting a bit, when felled by a crashing blow with apistol-butt at the base of the skull. Then in terror Case fled the wayhe came, for he saw both Indians and Mexicans were on him, realizedthat murder was meant, and knew he would be involved unless he couldinstantly get back to his bed. Willett made a desperate fight, woundedRamon, and might have killed him but for the timely shot from thepistol of Jose. Case heard it, and the cry for help as he ran. So quickwas the response of the sentry and the guard that the assailants, too,fled in fear, leaving their work unfinished. They had no fear of theirdrugged countrymen at the ranch. They were ready to help the soldiershunt the Indians, and did, but Jose had dropped the old Navy Colt atthe ford. They bought Dago's silence for awhile, for he, too, hatedWillett, and it was so easy to charge the crime to 'Tonio. But, whenthey fell out among themselves, and the pistol was found, and then Casewas accused, Dago let loose on Munoz, and the secret of the attemptedmurder was out.

  For a time thereafter Case felt dazed, benumbed; but, as Willettrecovered, he took courage again, and more drink, and tried to shoothis worthless head off, he said, when they came to arrest him. But whenhe heard of Willett's doings at Prescott, and had been openly tauntedby Dooley, he determined to lose his life another way, if need be, inbringing Willett to justice. He told it all to Wickham, and was amazed,yes, amazed at the result. He never dreamed that Willett at theeleventh hour would go to Estelle and make the only amend in his power.

  For that matter, neither did any one else cognizant of the fact,especially Harris, who, having been the unwilling recipient of all poorEastern Stella's confidences in the past, believed Willett stillhaunted by memories of her, and knew not this new and innocent andconfiding Star of the West. He had his own sorrows to bear, and hisheart was bitter within him at sight of the woe in the sweet blue eyesof the girl who speedily went back to Almy, without ever having openedher heart to a soul except that devoted mother.

  While Evelyn Darrah kept her room as much as a week after Willett'sgoing, it was a wonderful fact that, during a visit of four days,Lilian Archer appeared in public with her father, rode, drove, playedcroquet, though she managed to avoid two dinners and a dance. She wasvery quiet, it is true. "She never _did_ shine in society," said thePrime girls. But, under all this silence and fortitude, and the accessof tenderness with which she clung to her father, Mrs. Stannard andothers saw how near the little heart was to breaking, and there grew upamong the exiles a feeling of love and admiration for thisuncomplaining child, so suddenly grown old, that outlived the lives ofmost of them, for it has come down to those who, in the fulness oftime, stepped into their places. They are gone now, nearly all--ourbearded general and his beloved Mary, gruff old Stannard and his wiseand winsome wife. Bright, Bonner, Bucketts, grim-visaged Turner,white-haired, noble Archer and his fond and cherished Bella, evenWillett, but not, thank God, until better and brighter days had dawnedon most of them, and of one of these days, and of 'Tonio, there is yetthis to tell.

  There had been a year in which the Archers took their little girlabroad. The old regiment had been ordered to an eastern station, andthe change was welcome, for with all her bravery, and despite theirfondest care, she drooped in Arizona, and there came a longed-foropportunity they could not neglect. They were many moons away; theywere for a time at regimental head-quarters on their return, and then,in days when nothing was so rare as advancement, came Archer'spromotion to the colonelcy of the very regiment that had taken thestations of their former friends in Arizona. In a little less than twoyears from that eventful night among the cedars, the Archers, three,were once more welcomed to the general's roof, escorted the last tenmiles of the dusty stage ride from the desert by Harris, whose lettersto the general or to Mrs. Archer had been regular as the fortnightlymail. With the morrow he and 'Tonio were on hand to hail them, lookingfit and spare and sinewy as ever they had of old, for these werestrenuous days and stirring times in the Apache-haunted mountains--theTontos had broken faith and were again afield.

  Camp Sandy on the Verde was the centre of the storm. Pelham and hiscavalry had just been sent to other climes, marching overland to "thePlains." Archer was needed at once in command of the district, and wasspeedily there established, and thither too went Crook, with Bright towrite his orders and despatches, with Harris and 'Tonio to head thescouts. Thither presently went Lilian and her mother. The post waslarge, the garrison ample. There was active service that their ownwhite-haired general welcomed eagerly, for Crook meant to the full thathis loyal old friend and supporter should have all the credit that thecampaign might bring him. But campaigns conducted under dailytelegraphic promptings from distant superiors were not the brisk andindependent matters of a few years back. There were too many adviserswithin easy, if expensive, reaching distance--too many "Friends of theIndian," and far too few of the soldier, close in touch at court. Crookhimself was looking vexed and worried. It is so hard to serve God andMammon, to grapple with the foemen at the front, the Press and thePulpit at the rear. At the very moment when he had the "hostiles"hemmed
between converging columns and sure of capture, his hand washeld by orders from the East. At the very moment when the warriors atthe reservation should have been watched and guarded against exhortersfrom without, the latter got within, and a powerful band stampeded upthe Red Rock country and were gone. The news reached Archer towardeleven, one winter's night, and at dawn he, in person, with Harris and'Tonio and twenty scouts and barely thirty mounted men, was climbingthe rugged trail from the head of the Beaver in pursuit, leaving Bellaand Lilian, brave, silent, yet tearful, at the post.

  It was nothing new, this going forth of veteran division and brigadecommanders of the war days, with a handful of soldiery, to cope with aband of savages on their chosen ground. Barely two years before theModocs had asked for a talk with the general commanding and killed him.Only the year previous the Cheyennes lured out a lieutenant-colonel,with but a lieutenant's command, and picked him off. And so, two nightslater, there was weeping at old Sandy, for a runner was in long hoursafter sundown with the tidings that there had been a sharp and suddenskirmish among the rocks, that brave old Archer had been the first tofall, and that 'Tonio had been desperately wounded in the effort tosave the veteran's life.

  They started them homeward within the week, Archer calm, conscious,suffering much, but as, the skilled surgeons told the wife and daughterwho had rested not until they reached him, with good hope of recovery.It was 'Tonio for whom they felt the keenest apprehension. 'Tonio hadreceived a bullet meant for the soldier who had once decreed his death,and Archer's anguish was more for him. With them, on the slow homewardway around by the old Wingate road, was Harris, sleepless from anxietyand distress, watching night and day by the side of his two heroes,filling all with wonderment at his endurance; and with Harris, much ofthe time, by the side of both father and father's self-devoted savior,was Lilian.

  They brought them back to Sandy. They nursed the general back to lifeand partial strength. But age and wounds and sorrows all had told onthe Mohave chieftain, and slowly he sank, despite their every effortand the doctor's skill. They had pitched a little tent fly for him--hewould not be borne within doors--and shaded it with brush and willow,yet left the southward view open so that he could look out upon thebroad valley and see the shadows of the mountains steal across it asthe sun went westering. He seemed to love to watch the morning flame onthe bald summit of the huge peak so close at hand; it made him think ofthe Picacho about whose base he had sported as a boy. He seemed to loveto see Ramon and Pancha hovering ever about him. He would look at them,take their hands, then place their hands together and hold them betweenhis own. But most of all he loved to see Harris bending over him,moving about him, and when Lilian came and gave him drink and touchedhis fevered head, his glittering eyes would soften and follow her withsuch a world of wistfulness as though they would speak the longing ofhis heart. Then he would look from her to Harris, and from Harris backto her, in a way that sent the blushes surging to her forehead, and thesight of those blushes set that young soldier's heart to bounding.

  One beautiful afternoon, when the sun was slanting low and the greatdome of the peak was all agleam with crimson and with gold, they weregathered about his shelter, for the spirit had been wandering and hisstrength was almost gone. Without the canvas, their women weeping withPancha, their young men silent and sad, a group of the old band hoveredalong the slope of the low mesa. It was thought he could hardly survivethe night, and with the sinking of the sun his mind seemed cloudingmore, and he called, over and over, for "Chiquito," who knelt thereclinging to his hand. Even Archer had come, leaning heavily upon hiscrutches, and Bella, his wife, and Lilian--Lilian upon whom the dyingeyes rested again and again. 'Tonio was now too weak to lift a hand; hecould not signal; but something in his gaze seemed to call her to himirresistibly. He was breathing with such difficulty that the surgeon,bending over him on the other side of the pallet, slipped an armbeneath his shoulders, Harris from his side aiding, and together theyslowly raised him almost to a sitting posture, his weary head restingon "Chiquito's" shoulder. But the eyes still sought Lilian, and Archer,watching, murmured to her, "Go."

  To take his other hand, feebly plucking at the light coverlet, she hadto kneel so close to Harris that he could feel the swift throbbing ofher heart against his arm, and 'Tonio, looking now into the two youngfaces so near together, so close to his own, began with all hisremaining strength slowly drawing her little white hand toward the leanand sinewy fingers that clasped his right, whereat her bonny headdrooped lower, her bosom heaved; she seemed at once to read hispurpose, and, with the instinct of the maiden, to gently resist. Butthe almost instant reproach and pleading in the fading eyes melted andunnerved her. Harris, too, had seen, and noted, and understood, and hisown heart, through all its sorrowing, was beating vehemently; his ownright hand, without releasing 'Tonio's, crept forth in search of hers,and presently, trembling, but resisting no longer, the lily-white,slender fingers lay softly within the young soldier's clasp, and a big,hot tear fell upon the back of the brown and withered hand that, almostpulseless, drooped upon them both as though in benediction.

  Overcome with emotion, Mrs. Archer, watching, breathless, dropped herhead upon her husband's shoulder and sobbed convulsively. The lastbrilliant, dazzling beams of the dying day had lifted from the crest ofthe huge dome that shut the valley, and left it dark and sombre; and'Tonio's eyes, turning upon it for the last time, seemed to note thechange; and the flitting spirit, wandering back to the old, old boyishdays, and the legends of his people, spoke once more. The gatheringdarkness, the plash upon his hand, the resemblance to the mountain thatguarded his babyhood and youth, all probably had worked their spell,for the pallid lips began to move, and in the silence of the loweringnight a few words in his native tongue were faintly heard, and hottears gushed from the eyes of his young chief, friend and brother, as,in answer to the doctor's quick, questioning glance, Harris brokenlymurmured the translation:

  "When the Picacho hides his head in the clouds, then will there berain."

  And the clouds had lowered, and the day was done, and there was rain oftears from even soldier eyes for 'Tonio--Son of the Sierras.

  THE END.