CHAPTER XXX
AND DISCOVERS HETTY'S BROTHER
However, when he joined Lafe at the stables that afternoon, he looked avery chastened individual. Had Lafe seen the gradual transition in mood,from huge merriment to exasperation and then protest and resentfulsurrender, he would have understood better. Horne volunteered nothing ofwhat had passed, so he went to Mrs. Horne. That lady informed him thather husband would use his best endeavor with the commandant. Thereappeared to be no question in her mind that this was the only courseopen to him, and Johnson, who had come prepared for a few timely jokeson the matter, muttered: "Yes, ma'am, I sure am obliged," and walkedaway like a chidden child.
Two weeks later he moved his outfit south again. And at their old campon the San Pedro, Wilkins walked in on them. His advent was notunexpected, but Lafe found it impossible to give him more than frigidcivility. The man had been recreant to his trust and he was going to getout of it through the intercession of women; that was enough to damn himin the eyes of Lafe and his kind.
"Howdy," said Wilkins unconcernedly. "I'm going back."
"So I done heard."
"I got the letter here," Wilkins continued, fumbling in his shirt bosom."He says if I go back, they'll let me off easy on account of previousgood conduct."
"Huh-huh. Sure," said the boss grimly, "I'll let you have a horse andyou can ride with us in the morning. We start at four o'clock,remember."
A sergeant of cavalry and two troopers sat their horses beside the bigcorrals where the custom men inspect the cattle, when the cavalcadearrived. They led a spare mount. At sight of them, Wilkins left theparty and loped ahead. The soldiers waited for him on the other side. Hewent unhesitatingly through the gate--jubilant, alert and smiling, likea girl going to her first dance. The sergeant advanced and Wilkinsextended his hand. The soldier ignored it.
"Here's your horse, Johnson," said Wilkins. "You've been mighty decent.Muchas gracias. All right, Osborne. I'm ready."
"Hold on," Lafe cut in; "say, wait a minute. What's the matter, anyhow?What's it all about? I want to get the rights of this."
"A deserter, Mr. Johnson," said the sergeant. "He used to be in Troop F.Ran off, he did. Some post exchange funds went, too."
"That's a lie," Wilkins shouted; "I never touched a cent. And you knowit better'n anybody else, Osborne."
"We've been chasing him a year, Mr. Johnson."
Wilkins was watching Lafe much as a dog would watch his master to seewhether he was angry. "I'd like to talk to you a minute, if you'reagreeable, Mr. Johnson." The sergeant nodded acquiescence, and he ledLafe aside. "It's a wonder you'll speak to me after that. Osborne,there--he wouldn't shake hands."
"I'm not a soldier," the boss said guardedly.
"And I'm not a thief. You believe that, don't you? It was the rottensameness of the life. Oh, you know how it is--and Mary Louwaiting--well, I hated the post, and it wasn't long before I grew tohate the boys. What'd you say? Sure, they're all right. But when you'recooped up with the same crowd day in and day out, the best men on earthwill soon hate one another. You ain't never done it, so you don't know.Nothing to see but those ol' mountains, solemn as death all the time."He broke off, striving to compose himself. "See that high one yonder? Iswear I've seen it nodding at me. Yes, sir, just like this. And Mary Louand her father--oh, I got afraid of those hills--honest to God, I did.And the boys--why even your cowboys look down on us. And Mary Lou--so Ibeat it and swore I'd never come back."
"But you did."
"That's the queer part of it"--he laughed without mirth--"I can'trightly explain that myself. Mary Lou--no, I'd have come back anyhow. Iwas going dippy down there among the yellow-bellies. And Mary Lou,she--"
He told Lafe that he had wandered four times to the line, merely to geta glimpse of the country. The air this side of the border fence wasdifferent to the other; he was positive of that, although the boundaryconsisted of some strands of barbed wire. Once a corporal, returningfrom Naco to the post, had come upon him a mile within Americanterritory. What was he doing there? Oh, just looking round. He had takenback with him a prickly-pear plant. The corporal had almost caughtWilkins that time, but he managed to put the fence between them. On theother side he could twiddle his fingers at the corporal, who dared notpursue.
Johnson was puzzled and said so. "What were you hanging round here for?With a good job at the mines, you had a chance to start all over again."
"That's what I'm a-telling you, consarn it. With the whole wide world towander in, I kept sneaking back to this fence like a sick pup. Ain't ithell?" The aching sadness of a very homesick man had him fast. He staredup the San Pedro valley and drew in a slow, deep breath. His voice wasunsteady when he tried to resume.
"And Mary Lou--I sent her messages, and she kept saying--"
"Oh, well," said Lafe, "if you're going to cry over it, I'm off. Adios."
"Don't be a bloody fool. Hey, wait a minute, Johnson."
The escort could not be kept waiting all night, the sergeant shouted.
"Keep your shirt on, Osborne. I'll have to be quiet long enough fromto-day."
"About three years, I'm thinking," the sergeant said gloatingly.
Wilkins let the remark pass. He was gazing at two riders who wereadvancing down the lane towards the corrals. "Why--no, it can't be. Yes,it is. It's Mary Lou."
It was, indeed, Mary Lou; and Lafe's wife was with her. Johnson was notespecially pleased to see her there, but he wisely refrained fromcomment. The two women approached the group. Mary Lou shook handsgravely with Wilkins and Lafe was glad that he did not try to kiss her,or betray any sentimental weakness. The pair accepted the situationsoberly and Mary Lou called to her friend to come forward.
"This," she said shyly, "is Bill. Shake hands with Mrs. Johnson, Bill."
"How do you--Bob, Bob! It's you," Hetty squealed.
The manner of Mrs. Johnson's introduction was this--she jumped her horseclose to the deserter and clasped him in her arms. He was equallyfervent on his part. He held her tight and cried: "Hetty! Little Hetty."
Lafe experienced a not unnatural curiosity. He thrust between them andwanted to know who the gentleman might be who seemed so fond of hiswife, and, glaring at that unabashed young woman, inquired what shemeant by it. The troopers were grinning. The sergeant looked annoyed.
"Why, Lafe dear, this is Bob."
"So I done heard you say," said Lafe. "Bob who? What're you hugging himfor?"
"He's my brother."
The boss's tongue clove to the roof of his mouth and he sat dumbly,looking at his wife. Mary Lou and Hetty were patting Wilkins' hand andmaking much of him. They did not seem to appreciate the fact that he wasan outcast and a prisoner, but treated him as if they had every reasonto be proud of this reunion.
"So your name ain't Wilkins? It's Ferrier?" Lafe said slowly.
"Yes," said the other.
"Oh, Lafe, we must get him off sure."
Johnson silenced her and turned his back on the deserter. Curtly he toldHetty that the escort was waiting. He ordered her to come with him andto bring Mary Lou.
"Tell Bob good-by," she insisted.
"So long," said the boss grudgingly.
"No, that won't do. You've got to shake hands with him."
Lafe glanced at her radiant face and what he was about to say never cameout. He stuck out his long arm towards Wilkins, who grasped his handeagerly.
The misery of indecision had dropped from the deserter like a cloak thatis shed. He laughed encouragingly over his shoulder at Hetty, as heturned to leave.
"Did you expect me to holler, Johnson?" he asked. "Not much! Why, thisis going home, to me."
"Ready?" Osborne cried.
"And when I get out, I'll be able to look you boys in the face, too. Notyou, Osborne. You can't look me in the eye right now. Pshaw! What is ayear in a lifetime?"
"Quit your preaching. Come on."
"Adios, Mary Lou. Adios, Hetty. So long, Johnson. I'll see you soon."
"Guard a
nd prisoner--'tention! Fours--left about--march!"
They swung around and made northwest, Wilkins in their midst. He wasmaking his horse prance and was humming "Dixie." Once he looked back andwaved his arm in a wide gesture towards the Huachucas, towering on theleft; to the right, the straggling Mules range; and the San Pedro valleybetween, stretching away for eighty miles.
"What about this little ol' country now, hey?" he shouted. "What do youthink of her, hey? How about this air? Lord!"
Hetty waved at him, but Mary Lou, who had drawn out a handkerchief to dothe same, wept into it instead. They started slowly homeward, Lafeambling along in gloomy quiet. Hetty did not perceive his mood, beingtoo uplifted over her brother's recovery to be cognizant of lesserthings. She ranged beside her husband. There were tears on her cheeks,but she was smiling and humming "Dixie."
"Isn't it just like heaven? Here I haven't seen him in six years. Justthink of finding him like this. Oh, I never thought I could be sohappy."
"You bet," the boss said scathingly. "This is simply great, this is.He's gone to jail, I suppose you know? And I've got to get him out, Ireckon."
"You can do that all right," Hetty declared--she had a vague idea thatLafe administered the entire law of the land, the High justice and theLow--"What does the jail matter, anyhow? We've got him back."
"Yes, it's all right now," Mary Lou agreed and dried her eyes.
"Oh, pshaw," said Lafe, settling to the ride. "What's the use?"
The Sheriff of Badger: A Tale of the Southwest Borderland Page 30
