by Charles King
CHAPTER XXII.
Yes, Burleigh was gone, and there was confusion at the depot. At six thedoctor had come forth from his room, saying he was better, but must notbe disturbed. At seven the major, carrying a satchel, had appeared athis office, where two clerks were smoking their pipes, innocent of allthought of their employer's coming. It was after hours. They had nobusiness there at the time. Smoking was prohibited in the office, yet itwas the major who seemed most embarrassed at the unexpected meeting. Itwas the major who hastily withdrew. He was traced to the railway, and itwas speedily found that he had sent word to the division superintendentthat the General had telegraphed for him to join him at once atCheyenne, and a special engine and caboose would be needed. At a quarterpast seven this had started full speed. It was eleven when the discoverywas made. Meantime Folsom and Stevens had consulted together. Folsom hadtold of the large sum he had loaned Burleigh and the conditionsattached, and between them a dispatch, concisely setting forth theirsuspicions, was sent the General at Cheyenne, with orders to "rush," asthey were determined if possible to head off the fugitive at that point.Back came the wire ten minutes before midnight that the General had leftCheyenne for Laramie by stage that evening, and must now be near theChugwater and far from telegraphic communication. Then Stevens wired thesheriff at Cheyenne and the commanding officer of the new post of FortRussell to stop Burleigh at all hazards, and at two in the morning theanswer came that the major had reached Cheyenne about midnight and theywould search everywhere for him. That was the last until long after therising of another sun.
Events and excitements, alarms and rumors followed each other withstartling rapidity during the day. In glaring headlines the local paperpublished the details of the massacre at the Gap, lauding the valor anddevotion of the soldiers, but heaping abuse upon the commander of thepost, who, with other troops at his disposal, had looked on and liftedno hand to aid them. Later, of course, it was proved that the veteranhad foiled old Red Cloud's villainous plan to lure the whole garrisoninto the open country and there surround and slowly annihilate it, whilethen, or at their leisure later, his chosen ones should set fire to theunprotected stockade and bear off those of the women or children whoseyears did not commend them to the mercy of the hatchet. Soldiers andthinking men soon saw the colonel was right and that the only mistake hehad made was in allowing any of the garrison to go forth at all. Butthis verdict was not published, except long after as unimportant newsand in some obscure corner. The Laramie column, so the news ran, washastening down the Powder River to strike Red Cloud. The Indians wouldbe severely punished, etc., etc. But old Folsom's face grew whiter yetas he read that such orders had been sent and that the General himselfwas now at Laramie directing matters. "In God's name," urged he, "if youhave any influence with the General, tell him not to send a foot columnchasing horsemen anywhere, and above all not to follow down the Powder.Next thing you know Red Cloud and all his young men will have slippedaround their flank and come galloping back to the Platte, leaving theold men and women and worn-out ponies to make tracks for the 'heapwalks' to follow."
And Stevens listened dumbly. Influence he had never had. Folsom might beright, but it was a matter in which he was powerless. When a depotquartermaster, said he, could dictate the policy that should govern thecommand of a colonel of the fighting force, there was no use inremonstrance. Noon came and no news from the Cheyenne sheriff. Thecommanding officer at Russell wired that he, too, was stripped of histroops and had not even a cavalry courier to send after the General withthe startling news that Major Burleigh had vanished with large sums, itwas believed, in his possession. At one o'clock came tidings of thefugitive. He, together with two other men, had spent the late hours ofthe night at the lodgings of one of the party in Cheyenne, and at dawnhad driven away in a "rig" hired at a local stable, ostensibly to followthe General to Laramie. They had kept the road northwestward on leavingtown--were seen passing along the prairie beyond Fort Russell, butdeputies, sworn in at once and sent in pursuit, came back to say the righad never gone as far as Lodge Pole. At six P. M. came further tidings.Lieutenant Loring, engineer officer of the department, had reachedCheyenne and was in consultation with the commanding officer at Russell.The rig had been found at Sloan's ranch, far up Crow Creek, where theparty had taken horses and ridden westward into the Black Hills. Inanticipation of a big reward, the sheriff had deputies out in pursuit.From such information as they could gather it was learned that the nameof one of the parties gone with Burleigh was Newhall, who claimed to bea captain in the army, "out there looking after investments"--a captainwho was too busy, however, to go and see the few fellows of his cloth atthe new post and who was not known to them by sight at all. Theengineer, Mr. Loring, was making minute inquiries about this fellow, forthe description given him had excited not a little of his interest.
And so the sun of the second day went down on Gate City and Emory, andeverybody knew Burleigh was gone. The wildest rumors were afloat, andwhile all Fort Emory was in mourning over the tragedy at Warrior Gap,everybody in town seemed more vividly concerned in Burleigh and thecause of his sudden flight. As yet only certain army officers and Mr.Folsom knew of the startling discovery at the stockade--that the packagewas a bogus affair throughout. But all Gate City knew Burleigh had drawnlarge sums from the local bank, many citizens had heard that John Folsomwas several thousand dollars the poorer for his sudden going, and allinterest was centered in the coming from Chicago of an expert, summonedby wire, to open the huge office safe at the quartermaster's depot Thekeys had gone with Burleigh. At the last moment, after loading up withall the cash his own private safe contained, for that was found open andpractically empty in its corner of his sitting-room, and when he hadevidently gone to the office to get the funds there stored, he wasconfounded by the sight of the two employes. He could have ordered themto leave and then helped himself, but conscience had made a coward ofhim, even more than nature. He saw accusers in every face, and fled.Burleigh had lost his nerve.
Two days went by and excitement was at its height. All manner of evilreport of Burleigh was now afloat. The story of the bogus package hadbeen noised abroad through later messengers and dispatches from the Gap.Lieutenant Loring had come to Fort Emory under the instructions of thedepartment commander, and what those instructions were no man could findout from the reticent young officer. If ever a youth seemed capable ofhearing everything and telling nothing it was this scientist of adistinguished corps that frontiersmen knew too little of. What puzzledFolsom and old Pecksniff was the persistence with which he followed uphis inquiries about Captain Newhall. He even sought an interview withPappoose and asked her to describe the rakish traveler who had sounfavorably impressed her. She was looking her loveliest that evening.Jessie was radiant once more. A long letter had come from Marshall--sadbecause of the fate that had befallen his companions, stern because ofthe evidence of the deep-laid plot that so nearly made him a victim, butmodestly glad of the official commendation he had received, andrejoicing over the surgeon's promise that he would be well enough tomake the march with a command ordered back to Frayne. Red Cloud's peoplehad scattered far and wide, said he. "God grant they may not turn backto the south." He was coming home. He would soon be there. The papershad told their readers this very morning that the General had plainlysaid his force was too small to risk further assault upon the Sioux.Alarmed at the result of its policy, the Bureau had recommendedimmediate abandonment of Warrior Gap and the withdrawal of the troopsfrom the Big Horn country. The War Department, therefore, had to holdits hand. The Indians had had by long, long odds the best of the fight,and perhaps would be content to let well enough alone. All this hadtended to bring hope to the hearts of most of the girls, and Loring'swelcome was the more cordial because of this and because of his nowknown championship of Marshall's cause. From being a fellow under theban of suspicion and the cloud of official censure, Marshall Dean wasblossoming out as a hero. It was late in the evening when Folsom broughtthe young engineer from the hotel and found
Elinor and Jessie in themusic-room, with Pecksniff's adjutant and Loomis in devoted attendance.It was nearly eleven when the officers left--two returning to the fort,Loring lingering for a word with Folsom at the gate. The night was stilland breathless. The stars gleamed brilliantly aloft, but the moon wasyoung and had early gone to bed. A window in the third story softlyopened, as the two men stopped for their brief conference--the one soyoung-looking, sturdy and alert, despite the frost of so many winters;the other so calm and judicial, despite his youth.
"Up to this afternoon at five no trace of them has been found," saidLoring. "Day after to-morrow that safe-opener should reach us. If youhave influence with Colonel Stevens you should urge him to have a guardat the quartermaster's depot, even if he has to strip the fort. TheGeneral cannot be reached by wire."
"Why?" asked Folsom, looking up in alarm. "You don't suppose he'd comeback to rob his own office?"
"He is not the man to take a risk, but there are those with him not socareful, and the hand that sent Birdsall's gang in chase of Dean couldsend them here, with the safe-key. Those few clerks and employes wouldbe no match for them."
"By heaven, I believe you're right!" cried Folsom. "Which way are yougoing now?"
"Back to the hotel by way of the depot," was the answer. "Will you go?"
"One moment. I do not travel about just now without a gun," said Folsom,stepping within doors, and even the low sound of their voices died awayand all was still as a desert. The old trader did not return at once.Something detained him--Miss Folsom, probably, reasoned the engineer, ashe stood there leaning on the gate. Aloft a blind creaked audibly, and,gazing upward, Loring saw a dark, shadowy shutter at the third-storywindow swing slowly in. There was no wind to move it. Why should humanhands be so stealthy? Then a dim light shone through the slats, and theshade was raised, and, while calmly watching the performance, Loringbecame aware of a dim, faint, far-away click of horse's hoofs at thegallop, coming from the north.
"If that were from the eastward, now," thought he, "it might bringstirring news." But the sound died away after a moment, as though therider had dived into sandy soil.
Just then Folsom reappeared, "I had to explain to my daughter. She ismost reluctant to have me go out at night just now."
"Naturally," said Loring calmly. "And have you been way up to the thirdstory? I suppose Miss Folsom has gone to her room."
"The girls have, both of them--but not to the third story. That's Mrs.Fletcher's room."
"Ah, yes. The woman, I believe, who accidentally scared your horse andthrew you?"
"The very one!" he answered. "I'm blessed if I know what should havetaken her out at that hour. She says she needed air and a walk, but whyshould she have chosen the back-gate and the alley as a way to air andsunshine?"
"Would you mind taking me through that way?" asked the engineersuddenly. "It's the short cut to the depot, I understand."
"Why, certainly. I hadn't thought of that," said Folsom. "Come righton."
And so, while the hoof-beats up the road grew louder, the two turnedquickly back to the rear of the big frame house. "That coming horsebrings news," muttered Loring to himself, as he turned the corner. "Wecan head him off, but I want to see this situation first."
Looking away southeastward from the porch of Folsom's homestead, onecould see in the daytime a vista of shingled roofs and open yards, abroad valley, with a corral and inclosures on the southern edge of thetown, but not a tree. To-night only dim black shadows told where roofand chimney stood, and not a sign could they see of the depot. Loringcuriously gazed aloft at the rear and side windows of the third story."They command quite a view, I suppose," said he, and even as he spokethe sash of the southeast room was softly raised, the blind swungslightly outward. That woman watching and listening again! And it wasshe whose sudden and startling appearance at the rear gate had led toFolsom's throw so early the morning Burleigh and his mysterious friendwere found missing from their quarters just after dawn--the very morningDean, with his treasure package and little escort, rode forth from Emoryon that perilous mission--the very morning that Birdsall and hismurderous gang set forth from Gate City in pursuit.
And now those hoof-beats up the road were coming closer, and Folsom,too, could hear and was listening, even while studying Loring's face.Suddenly a faint gleam shot across the darkness overhead. Glancingquickly upward, both men, deep in shadow, saw that the eastern window onthe southern side was lighted up. Out in the alleyway, low yet clear, awhistle sounded--twice. Then came cautious footsteps down the backstairs. The bolt of the rear door was carefully drawn. A woman's form,tall and shrouded in a long cloak, came swiftly forth and sped down thegarden walk to that rear gate. "Come on, quick!" murmured the engineer,and on tiptoe, wondering, the two men followed. They saw her halt at thebarred gate. Low, yet distinct she spoke a single name: "George!" Andwithout, in the alley, a voice answered: "I'm here! open, quick!"
"Swear that you are alone!"
"Oh, stop that damned nonsense! Of course I'm alone!" was the sullenreply, and at the sound of the voice Loring seemed fairly to quiver. Thegate was unbarred. A man's form, slender and shadowy, squeezed in andseemed peering cautiously about. "You got my note?" he began. "You knowwhat's happened?"
But a woman's muffled scream was the answer. With a spring like a catLoring threw himself on the intruder and bore him down. In an instantFolsom had barred the gate, and the woman, moaning, fell upon her knees.
"Mercy! Mercy!" she cried. "It is all my fault. I sent for him."
"Take your hands off, damn you, or you'll pay for this!" cried theundermost man. "I'm Captain Newhall, of the army!"
"You're a thief!" answered Loring, through his set teeth. "Hand over thekey of that safe!"
The sound of hoof-beats at the front had suddenly ceased. There was asputter and scurry in the alley behind. Full half a dozen horses musthave gone tearing away to the east. Other lights were popping in thewindows now. Folsom's household was alarmed. Attracted by the scream andthe sound of scuffle, a man came hurrying toward them from the front.
"Halt! Who are you?" challenged Folsom, covering him with his revolver.
"Don't shoot. I'm Ned Lannion--just in from the ranch. Have you heardanything of Hal, sir?"
"Of Hal?" gasped Folsom, dropping his pistol in dismay. "In God's name,what's wrong?"
"God only knows, sir. Mrs. Hal's nigh crazy. He's been gone two days."
