Trumpeter Fred: A Story of the Plains

by Charles King

  CHAPTER V.

  TRAILING THE TRAITOR.

  Fred Waller knew all the Valley of the North Platte as well as he didthe trails around Sanders and Red buttes, and if he could succeed ineluding the Indian war parties, he would have no difficulty in fordingthe river, or swimming if necessary; and, with the start he must havehad, his light weight, and powerful horse, it would be next toimpossible to catch him, even if they could follow his trail. Besides,were they not ordered to remain at the Niobrara until Charlton's return?The more Mr. Blunt thought of the matter the more worried and perplexedhe became. Anywhere else he might have sent a sergeant with a couple ofmen in pursuit, but here it would be exposing them to almost certaindeath. It was some minutes before Sergeant Dawson came in answer to thesummons. Blunt could see the troopers gathered about the first sergeant,excitedly discussing the affair and bemoaning their individual losses.Graham was noting the amounts on a slip of paper, and his fine face waspale with distress. "Is that all now, men?" he asked as he completedthe list, then sharply turned away, and once more approached his youngcommander.

  "Lieutenant," he said, halting and raising his hand in salute, "it isn'tquite so bad as I feared, but bad enough. Sergeant Farron, CorporalWatts, and I are the principal losers, besides Sergeant Dawson. Three ofthe men who went into the Agency on pass just after we were paid hadleft most of their money with me, and that is gone. I had it with my ownin the flat wallet I always carried in the inside pocket of myhunting-shirt. You can see, sir, how it was done," and the sergeantdisplayed a long clean cut through the Indian tanned buckskin. "It tooka sharp knife and a light hand to do that, for I'm not a heavy sleeper.Farron, Watts, and I were sleeping side by side just over there on thebank, and they heard nothing all the night. But will the lieutenant lookat this handkerchief, sir? Is it chloroformed? I feel dull and heavy, asthough I had been drugged. He couldn't have got it from me any otherway."

  Blunt took the bandanna and sniffed it cautiously, and then turned itover and curiously inspected it. There was certainly an odor ofchloroform about it--a strong odor.

  "Whose is this?" he asked. "I do not remember seeing any of the menwearing one like this."

  "None of them own it, sir. I've asked the whole party but SergeantDawson and the men on guard. They have these cheap red things for saleat the store there at the Red Cloud Agency, but none of the troop have Iever seen wearing them; they are too small for neck handkerchiefs.Dawson is out yet, trying to locate the trail. I've sent Robbins forhim," and the sergeant looked anxiously away southward, searching theprairie with a world of pain and trouble in his eyes.

  "What could possibly have induced the boy to turn scoundrel all atonce?" asked the lieutenant. "It will break his old father's heart."

  "I can't account for it, sir. He has been as honest and square as a boycould be ever since his enlistment; but the men tell me that he has beenspending a good deal of time over in the post whenever we camped there,and I am afraid, from what Donovan says, that he has been gambling withthe young fellows at the band quarters. There's a hard lot in there, I'mtold; and the old hands encourage the boys to get all they can out ofstrangers, and then they turn to and fleece the boys. It is about fourhundred dollars he has taken. A man knows that will last but a littlewhile on the frontier, but to a boy it seems a big pile."

  Then, rapidly approaching, the bounding hoofs of a troop horse wereheard. Blunt eagerly turned and saw Sergeant Dawson galloping towardthem down the north bank. Reining in so suddenly as almost to throw hispanting bay upon his haunches, he vaulted lightly to the ground andstood before the lieutenant, his face beaded with sweat and his eyesglaring.

  "Which way has he gone? could you tell?"

  "Yes, sir, I trailed him out across the prairie yonder for three hundredyards or so. Then he took the Laramie road, and there the hoof tracksare all confused; but I knew he would never keep that line very long,and I'm almost certain I found the place where he turned off--a milebeyond the ford and well over the bluffs."

  "Turned south toward the Sidney route?"

  "Yes, sir, as though he was going to skirt the road a while, then makefor Scott's Bluffs, keeping well west of the Sidney stage route. If hegot on that he'd be likely to meet Captain Forrest's troop, sir."

  "But you were in charge of the guard, sergeant. How came it that yoursentries and you could let a man slip out with his horse and everything?The night was still, and they ought to have heard, even if they couldn'tsee."

  "It was dark as pitch, lieutenant; the new moon was down before eleveno'clock; and as for hearing, the horses were uneasy and stamping orsnorting all the while from midnight until two o'clock. Either theysniffed Indians, or the coyotes startled them. Then, the stream makessuch a noise over the rocks, sir; and the lieutenant will remember wehad no sentries out across the stream. The Indians couldn't stampede theherd from that direction."

  "But how could he get his horse out from the herd without----"

  "It wasn't there, sir," broke in the trooper, eager to defend himselfagainst the imputation of carelessness or neglect. "Sergeant Graham willbear me out, sir, that Trumpeter Waller has been allowed to lariat hishorse close by where he slept, and sometimes he'd loop the lariat by alight cord to his wrist. The captain allowed it, sir, and I supposedthat the lieutenant would not care to change the captain's orders. Lastnight he slept, or rather made down his blanket and drove his picket-pinat the lower edge of the bivouac, sir, down there by that point; andPrivate Donovan tells me he moved still further down after dark. Wecould hear his horse whinnying a while--he didn't like being so far fromthe others. It's my belief, sir, he waited until all was quiet, and tooksome time when I was out on the prairie visiting the sentries to slip upthe bank to where Sergeant Graham was sleeping, make his haul of themoney, and then ride for all that he was worth as soon as he had gotbeyond ear-shot. It was easy enough to slip away through the streamwithout being heard."

  "He has left his saddle-bags, blanket, and everything that was heavy,except his arms, behind him," said Graham moodily.

  "And you really think that he has stolen the money and is trying toescape?" questioned the lieutenant.

  "Indeed, sir," answered Dawson almost tearfully, "I don't know what tothink. I hate to believe it of the boy we were all so fond of, though Iused to plague him sometimes, just in fun--but I don't know what else tothink. The men say that he has been a little wild at times, since he gotfrom under the old man's care. But I don't know, sir; I wouldn't be aptto know what was going on in the barrack there at Robinson."