Warrior Gap: A Story of the Sioux Outbreak of '68.

by Charles King

  CHAPTER IX.

  For nearly a week after the home-coming of his beloved daughter JohnFolsom was too happy in her presence to give much thought to othermatters. By the end of that week, however, the honest old Westernerfound anxieties thickening about him. There were forty-eight hours ofundimmed rejoicing. Elinor was so radiant, so fond, and had grown, sosaid the proud father to himself, and so said others, so wondrouslylovely. His eyes followed her every movement. He found himself negligentof her gentle little friend and guest, Jessie Dean, to whom he had vowedto be a second father, and such a friend as she had been to his Pappoosewhen, a homesick, sad-eyed child, she entered upon her schooldays.Elinor herself had to chide him, and with contrition and dismay headmitted his fault, and then for hours nothing could exceed hishospitable attentions to Jessie, who, sorely disappointed becauseMarshall was not there to meet her, was growing anxious as no tidingscame from him. Two whole days the damsels spent in going over the newhouse, exclaiming over papa's lavish preparations, but wishing presentlythat Mrs. Fletcher were not quite so much in evidence, here, there, andeverywhere. Only when bedtime came and they could nestle in one or otherof their connecting rooms were they secure from interruption, and eventhen it presently appeared they could not talk confidentially as of old.Folsom had taken them driving each afternoon, he himself handling thereins over his handsome bays, Elinor at his side the first time, andJessie, with Mrs. Fletcher, occupying the rear seat. But this, Elinorwhispered to him, was not as it should be. Her guest should have theseat of honor. So, next day, Jessie was handed to the front and Mrs.Fletcher and Pappoose were placed in rear, and in this order they bowledround the fort and listened to the band and talked with several of thewomen and one or two officers, but these latter could tell nothing aboutLieutenant Dean except that they had been expecting him for two days--hehaving taken the long way home, which both Jessie and Pappooseconsidered odd under the circumstances, though neither said so andnobody thought to explain. But the morning of the third day "MissFolsom"--as the veteran was amazed to hear his daughter addressed, yeton reflection concluded that he'd be tempted to kick any man whoaddressed her otherwise--seized a favorable opportunity and whisked herfond father into a corner of his library, and there gave him tounderstand that in Eastern circles the housekeeper might sometimes,perhaps, accompany the young ladies when they were going shopping, orthe like, alone, but that when escorted by papa it was quiteunnecessary. It was in fact not at all conventional.

  "Bless my soul!" said Folsom. "I supposed that was what she was for.What did these women mean by telling me I must have a, companion--aguide--etc.?"

  "They meant, you blessed Daddy, that they wished to provide youwith--one of their number, and me--with something I do not want. If Mrs.Fletcher is to be housekeeper I have nothing to say, but--don't youthink your big daughter old enough and wise enough to select her owncompanions? Daddy dear," she continued, after a little pause, andnestling close to him with a pathetic look in the big brown eyes, herlips twitching a bit, "I know how loving and thoughtful you have been inall this, and I wouldn't have you think me ungrateful, but--did youbelieve I was always going to be a little girl? What do you suppose Istudied housekeeping for at school? Mrs. Fletcher is engaged, I presume,and I can't ask you to undo that now, but I wish you had written to mefirst. However, if you don't mind, there's somebody I'd rather you wouldinvite to take the fourth seat to-day, and then you can have Pappoosebeside you, if you wish."

  "Why, of course, sweetheart, any one you like."

  "Lieutenant Loomis, then, Daddy--the officer we met on the train. Jessielikes him and he's such a friend of her brother--the only one we haveyet seen who seems to know him at all. Then you could ask him to dinner,too."

  Folsom's face was a study. Doubt and perplexity both were twitching inthe little muscles about his lips.

  "We met three officers, did we not, Elinor, and I had thought--somewhatof--asking the major and his guest. He said he wished to call. He washere while we were driving yesterday. I met him later."

  "Yes, I saw his card," was the hurried, indifferent answer. "But theyare not like Mr. Loomis. Daddy, I did not at all like that CaptainNewhall, or--for that matter----"

  "They both seemed prodigiously struck with you," said Folsom, inmisguided confidence yet pardonable pride. "They've done, nothing buttalk to me about you ever since."

  "They did nothing but talk to me all the way over the mountains, exceptwhen they were out taking what I have reason to believe was anoccasional drink, Daddy mine. Jess had Mr. Loomis to herself. They havefound your weak spot, Daddy. They know you love to talk of yourdaughter. You have only known Major Burleigh a little while, is it notso?"

  "Only within the year, perhaps, though of course I've heard of him agreat deal."

  "And this Captain Newhall, whose regiment is in Louisiana while he's outhere on leave--I thought officers went East when they got leave."

  "Newhall says he's out here looking over some mining schemes. He hasmoney to invest, I believe."

  "He should invest some money in a traveling suit, Daddy dear. That coatand his linen seemed woefully out of condition. Gentlemen are notcareless about such matters."

  "Oh, he explained that his trunks were delayed in Omaha or somewhere,and were coming along next train. I own I was prejudiced against him,too, but of course if he's a friend and guest of Burleigh's he--he mustbe all right. He's staying with him at the depot."

  "And you've got to invite them to dinner?" asked Miss Folsom, afteranother pause, during which she had been thinking deeply.

  "Not if you don't want it, pet. Of course they'll expect it. Armyofficers are hospitable, you know, Burleigh has asked me to dine withhim a dozen times, though I've only been there once."

  "Then you'll have to invite him, Daddy," was the answer, with quickdecision. "Only, just wait for a day or two. Captain Newhall was goingright out to the mines, he said, and there may be others we'd be glad tohave. Jessie's brother ought to be here any hour."

  "Yes," said Folsom dubiously. "I've been thinking about him--I've beenwishing----"

  But he hesitated and faltered and could not meet the deep brown eyes, sofull of searching inquiry and keen intelligence.

  "You've been thinking--what, Daddy?" she asked, and now her slenderhands were on his shoulders and she was turning him so that she couldstudy his face. "You have been hearing something you do not wish us toknow, Daddy dear. I heard Major Burleigh say something to Mr. Loomisabout--about Lieutenant Dean, and I know Mr. Loomis did not like it, andJessie and I can't believe it. Father, where is he? Why doesn't he come?Why do these--these people at the fort hem and haw and hesitate whenthey speak about him? Jessie is getting so troubled."

  "_I'm_ getting troubled, daughter," answered Folsom impulsively. "Inever met a likelier young fellow or one that promised to make a betterofficer. He may be all right, too, only it isn't so much what they _do_say as what they don't say that troubles me. Burleigh here and oldStevens out at the fort and one or two others I've asked about him.Burleigh says he 'lost his nerve' when they met Red Cloud's big band. Aboy might be excused for that so long as he didn't misbehave. It was bigresponsibility for a young lieutenant. But these people, as you speak ofthem out at the fort, really know very little about Dean. Burleigh sayshe's in a position that enables him to know so much more about thecharacter and habits of the young officers."

  "Surely he can say nothing against Mr. Dean!" exclaimed Pappoose,looking up with quick indignation in her brown eyes. "No one knows howgood and generous he has been to Jessie and his mother."

  They were standing at the moment in the corner of the library farthestfrom the doorway. The front windows opened to the north, giving a fineview of the rolling hills rising higher and higher and looking down uponthe grass-grown slopes spread out at their feet, criss-crossed andtraversed by hard-beaten roads and trails. Immediately in front of thehouse Folsom had seeded and watered and coaxed into semblance of a lawnthe best turf to be had in that section of Wyoming, and inclosed it in a
spick and span white picket fence. The main road between the fort andthe railway station passed directly in front of his gate. The sidewindow of the cozy room looked out to the west over the valley of arushing stream, once rich in trout, but now much infested by the mulesfrom Burleigh's corral, which lay half a mile away to the southeast, outof sight of Folsom's house except from the upper windows. Eager to stockthe library with standard works against his daughter's coming, the oldtrader had consulted a friend among the officers and had sent a lavishorder to a house in Chicago. Books, therefore, were there in plenty onthe handsome shelves, and they were not ill-chosen either, but it wasMrs. Fletcher who pointed out how stiff and angular everything looked,who introduced the easy lounge, the soft rugs, the heavy hangingportieres of costly Navajo blankets. It was her deft touch that drapedthe curtains at the windows and softened and beautified the lines thehand of man would have left crude and repellent. And that library hadbeen her favorite haunt; but since the coming of the girls Mrs. Fletcherhad seemed to retire to her own room aloft, and to spend no time belowstairs that was not demanded by her household duties. Now as the fatherand daughter were talking earnestly together, they heard Mrs. Fletchermoving about overhead as though looking over the work of the housemaid.Jessie had gone to her own room to write a short letter to her mother.Major Burleigh was to come at 10.30 to drive them out to Pinnacle Butte,a sharp, rocky height far across the valley, from the summit of which awonderful view was to be obtained. It lacked but five minutes of thetime and suddenly Mrs. Fletcher's voice was heard on the floor above. Itwas a well-modulated voice, gentle and controlled, with a clear, vibrantring in it that made the words distinctly audible to the hearers below.

  "The major's carriage is coming up the street, Miss Dean. There are twoofficers."

  "Two!" exclaimed Jess, starting to her feet, thinking only of herbrother. "Oh! I wonder if--" And then they heard her go pit-a-patthrough the hall to the front of the house, heard Mrs. Fletcher moredeliberately follow, heard presently the beat of horses' hoofs on thehard roadway, and the whir of coining wheels. "I'll go out to meet them,Elinor--I'll--I'll talk to you more about this some other time. Youdon't care to go on this ride this morning one bit, do you dear?" headded uneasily.

  "No, father; frankly, I don't--but he has been polite to you andattentive to us. There's no help for it."

  And so Folsom went alone to the door to meet his visitors on the porchwithout, and did not hear, did not see Mrs. Fletcher, who came hastilydown the stairs, her face singularly pale, a glitter of excitement inher eyes. On tiptoe she hastened along the broad hall, reaching thelibrary door just as Folsom stepped out on the porch. On tiptoe shedarted in, closed the door behind her, almost rushed to the northwindow, and there grasping the curtain she crouched, heedless of thepossibility of observation, and for half a minute clung and crouched andstared. Then, as Folsom's genial, powerful voice was heard in welcomingaccents, and heavy footsteps came along the broad board walk, the womanstraightened suddenly and, noiseless as before, hurried back across theroom and came face to face with the daughter of the house.

  "Oh, Miss Folsom!" she faltered, her bosom heaving in violent agitation."I did not know you were here. I--excuse me--" and hastened out of theroom and up the winding stairs.

  "Pappoose" never hesitated. Coolly, quickly, she stepped to the window.Major Burleigh had just reached the top step and was exchanging greetingwith his host. The stylish team and glistening wagon were just spinningaway.

  "It'll be back in five minutes," she, heard the quartermaster explain toher father. "Newhall has to meet come people coming in by stage fromGreen River. I thought I'd rather spend the time here."

  And on the back seat, affably waving his hand in adieu, and jauntilylifting his rakish forage cap in salutation general to any of the youngladies who might be watching, sat the gentleman whose regiment was inLouisiana while he was up here on leave looking after mininginvestments.