by Charles King
CHAPTER XX.
A CORNERED RAT.
Far away to the northwest this night, close under the shoulders of theBig Horn Mountains, a regiment of cavalry has gone into bivouac after aday's march through blistering sun-glare and alkali. Hour after hour,with strained, aching eyes, they have been watching thegradually-nearing dome of Cloud Peak, still glistening white though thisis August. Around the blunt elbow of the mountains, two days' march awayto the north, they expect to find the Gray Fox and all his men eagerlyawaiting their coming. A courier from the front has brought them tidingsthat the Indians are in force all over the country west of the Cheetishgroup. Another courier has galloped after them from Fetterman, leavingthere last night, and he brings strange news.
During the long, dusty, burning day Captain Webb and Mr. Gleason havejoined the command and reported for duty. To the disgust of the youngsecond lieutenant commanding Wayne's troop in his absence, the coloneldirects Mr. Gleason, the senior lieutenant now for duty, to assumecommand of it for the campaign. Captain Truscott has no objections. Heprefers not to have Mr. Gleason with his own troop, and Stannard is gladto get him out of his battalion. Very few men are glad to see Gleason,though nearly all the officers go to him for letters and news. Theybring a small packet of mail, and on the way Gleason has made himselfvery interesting to Webb, and has easily gathered from thatsimple-minded gentleman that there was an awkward tableau at Truscott'swhen he went there to say good-by. "Confidentially," Gleason had let himunderstand that he had seen only one of many symptoms that had givenmuch food for talk at Russell; that to his, Gleason's, bitter regret hefeared Mrs. Truscott had not been as discreet as she should with afellow like Ray, who was--well--had Webb heard anything of that horseboard business, etc.? It was so easy,--it _is_ so easy,--more's thepity, to say so very much in saying very little, when the good name ofman or woman is at stake. Long before they got to the regiment Webb wasconvinced that he had seen very much more than he really did at Russell,and he had heard a volume of gossip that, after all, he could not haveasserted was told him by Gleason, yet had been most deftly suggested.Gleason was deep. He knew that they brought with them the mail of thelast stage reaching Fetterman for three days. Further news would not beapt to come by letter for a week, by which time the regiment wouldprobably be hotly engaged, and he himself called back by telegraphicorder as an important witness before the court. This latter probabilityhe mentioned to no one. He meant to be grievously surprised anddisgusted when the orders came recalling him, and until then his cardshad to be carefully played. None of the ladies at Russell who knew himat all had intrusted him with letters. All theirs had gone by mail or byCaptain Webb, but when the mail was opened at Fetterman, Gleasonpromptly offered to carry forward anything there might be for theofficers of his regiment, and on the way this was carefully assorted. Hehad met Stannard and Truscott with beaming cordiality, saying, "Ah! youwell knew I would not come without letters from _your_ better halves,"and fumbling in inner pockets as though they had been stored there eversince leaving Russell.
It was not until late that afternoon that Major Stannard received fromWebb the message sent by his good wife, and he was pondering in his mindwhat it could mean, when at sunset Truscott strolled over from his troopto see him. Gleason by this time was being very sociable with thecolonel and Mr. Billings.
"Have you anything from Mrs. Stannard later than the letter you spoke ofthis afternoon, major?" asked the captain, whose face was somewhatanxious.
"Why, yes, Truscott; Webb brought me a message that he said Mrs.Stannard gave him at the last moment, to the effect that she would havea long letter for me by next mail, and to be sure and get it. It seems alittle odd."
"My last is a pencilled note from Mrs. Truscott, written but a fewmoments before the stage started. She says she sends it out to Fettermanby the driver, and I suppose our old 'striker' easily got him to takeit; but she speaks of being far from well, nervous, etc., and that Mrs.Stannard is such a blessing to her,--so constantly with her. I wishthere were something more definite. She writes three pages for thepurpose of telling me not to be anxious, and the very nervousness andtremulous style give me some cause for worry."
"Why, in my letter Mrs. Stannard speaks of Mrs. Truscott as being sobright and well, and of their having such good times together, and beingso charmed with Miss Sanford. It hardly seems there could have been sosudden a change in one day."
But there had been, as we know, and a change as sudden was coming to thecurrent of events in the harmonious --th. Just after dark a courier onjaded horse came riding in from the south. He brought telegraphicdespatches to the colonel and one to Major Stannard. The latter read hisby the light of his camp-lantern, gave a long whistle of amaze anddisgust, and sung out for Truscott as he rolled from under his blankets.The trumpets were just sounding tattoo, and Stannard and other officershad turned in early, preparatory to the start at four in the morning.While waiting for Truscott's coming, the major could see that at thecolonel's tent there was also excitement and a gathering of severalofficers. He had not long to wait. Truscott joined him in a few moments.
"I called you here because it was where we could talk unobserved. Whatdo you say to that?" And he handed him the despatch.
Truscott read without a word, and then stood there a moment earnestlythinking, his lips firmly set, a dark shadow settling on life forehead.The message was as follows:
"Ray arrested. Horse board charges cooked up here by Gleason. Court ordered from Chicago. All staff or infantry officers. Make Gleason name authorities before regiment.
"BLAKE."
Stannard had thrust his head forward and his hands into hisbreeches-pockets.
"Now, isn't that simply damnable?" he asked.
"You do not believe Ray guilty, do you?" was Truscott's response.
"No, I don't," though there was hesitating accent on the don't. Stannardhated to be thought unprepared for any trait in a fellow-man--good orbad. "What can the charges be? Ray told me he had neither gambled nordrank."
"Something has been received at the colonel's. Billings was thereopening and reading despatches when you called me." And Truscott noddedthither.
"Come on. I'm going to see this thing through now," said Stannard, andtogether they walked to headquarters.
The colonel, wrapped in his overcoat, was sitting up at the head of hiscamp-bed noting with a pencil a few memoranda, while Billings wasreading aloud in a low voice some long despatches. Outside the tent weregrouped half a dozen officers, waiting for such news as the colonelmight give. Beyond them were the scattered and smouldering fires, therude shelter-tents of the men, the white tops of the army wagons; beyondthese the dark outlines of the massive hills; above them all thebrilliant, placid stars; around them the hush of nature, broken only bythe drowsing swish and plash of rapid, running waters, the stir of thenight wind in the scattered trees, the stamp and snort of some startledtroop-horse, the distant challenge of the night sentries. Somethingimportant had come, and the group looked eagerly at Stannard andTruscott as they approached.
"Have you heard anything?" was the question.
"I've got a despatch," said Stannard, gruffly; "but I want to see thecolonel before I speak of it." Then the colonel's voice was heard,--
"That you, Stannard? Come in here."
And the major passed into the tent. Presently he came out, took Truscottby the arm and led him away.
"No use talking to him to-night. He has nothing but the officialdespatches, and they look ugly for Ray. There are other things thatoccupy him now, but what we want is to see Gleason right off. He isordered to return at once, and goes back in the morning. Come."
Over in the second battalion a sentry pointed out Gleason's tent.Stannard scratched and rattled at the flap. No answer. "Gleason!" hecalled. No reply. "He's shamming sleep, by gad!" growled the major,between his teeth. "It's only fifteen minutes since Billings told him hewas to start back at daybreak. He wants to avoid us, and has his flapsall tie
d inside. I'll have him out or bring his damned tent down abouthis ears." And it was plain that Stannard was getting excited. Anofficer came through the gloom. It was Captain Webb.
"Isn't this Gleason's tent?" called the major.
"Certainly. I left him there not half an hour ago," replied the captain."Wake him up. He's got to go back in the morning."
"Yes, sir. And that's just what I want to see him about. Hullo! youthere! _Gleason!_"
There came from within a snort, as of one suddenly awakened, a sleepyyawn, an imbecile "Oh--ah--er--who is it?"
"It's me,--Stannard; and I want you," was the reply, all the moreforcible for being ungrammatic.
"Oh! One minute, major, and I'll be with you," called the inmate, asthough overcome with sudden access of joy, and presently he appeared,half dressed.
"See here, Gleason, Captain Truscott and I have come to inquire what youknow of the charges against Mr. Ray. You are to go back at once, I'mtold, as witness against him. There won't be a soul there of hisregiment or his friends, for we know well you're not one, to speak forhim. By thunder! what have you against him?"
"I do not think this a matter on which I should speak at all, MajorStannard, except to proper authority. The court will hear the evidencein due season."
"Well, I mean to hear something _now_, Mr. Gleason, or, by the eternal!I'll wake up the whole command to put the question. What you make onebelieve is, that you are seeking to ruin Ray by getting him at adisadvantage with all his friends away. Captain Truscott, what do yousay?"
And then Truscott spoke. As usual, he was master of himself and showedno vestige of temper.
"The matter is very simple, Mr. Gleason. You are believed to be theaccuser of Mr. Ray at a moment when it is certain the regiment is goingto be so far away that its officers cannot be present at the court,--maynot even be able to communicate with it. If you decline to indicate whatyou know to Major Stannard and me, who are his friends, the immediateprotest of the regiment against your conduct must go to headquarterswith the request that the court be held until we can appear before it.More than that, in two days we will reach the general commanding thedepartment. Do you fancy he will permit Mr. Ray, of all others, to bebrought to trial without a friend to appear for him?"
Gleason saw he was cornered. What he hoped, what he expected, was tomake his escape and get back before any one learned of the charges. Thathope was frustrated. In his wrath and perplexity he resorted to theinvariable device of the cowardly and the low. He must divert theirsympathy for Ray into distrust of him, and before he had fullyconsidered his words they were spoken,--crafty, insidious, andcalumniatory.
"Captain Truscott, _you_ have spoken without threatening me, and I'llanswer you. All this time I've been striving _not_ to see, not to knowMr. Ray's offences; but I was on the horse board. You were not. AskCaptain Buxton to-morrow who and what Ray's associates were; but let mesay to you right here that I can no longer submit to seeing youdeceived. You call Ray your friend. No man can be a worse friend than hewho sets a whole garrison talking about an absent comrade's wife and thenotes she writes him, and who is discovered alone with her,--she intears, he burning a letter. Webb witnessed it. Ask him."
The last words were spoken with utmost haste, with upraised hand, withtrembling lips, for both Truscott and Stannard almost savagely sprangtowards him as though to cram the words down his throat. For an instantTruscott stood glaring at him, not daring to speak until he could resumehis self-command; but in that instant poor, perturbed Webb broke intospeech.
"Oh, come now, Gleason, that's all an outrageous way of putting it, youknow. Of course I saw there was some little trouble. Mrs. Truscott hadwritten to Ray because she was all upset about something; she wascrying, you know, and Ray might have just happened in----"
"Never mind, Webb. Don't speak a word; of course it is all easilyexplained. No man on earth is more welcome at my home than Ray, and mywife is one of his warmest friends. What I have to say is to you," saidTruscott, turning fully upon his subaltern. "If I needed one furtherproof to assure me that you were the lowest and most intriguingscoundrel that walks the earth, you have given it this night. Gentlemen,you are witness to my words." And with that he walked away.
"And _I_ say, Mr. Gleason, that if ever I lose a chance of showing youup in your true colors before this regiment, may the Lord forgive me!We're booked for the campaign now; but if you don't appear before thatcourt with credentials that would damn even an Indian agent it won't bethe fault of the --th Cavalry: and I mean to start about it to-night."
And he did. Old Stannard had a stormy interview with the colonelforthwith, and stirred up Bucketts, the quartermaster, and Raymond andTurner and Merrill among the captains, and even thought of rousingCanker, but concluded not to; and they raked out their pencils, and whenthe escort started back next morning with Mr. Gleason, the sergeant wasintrusted with a batch of letters to various staff-officers settingforth in unequivocal terms Gleason's reputation as opposed to Ray'sbrilliant and gallant, if somewhat reckless, record. Even the colonel,inspired by Stannard's fiery eloquence, sent a few lines to the generalcommanding the division, expressing the desire in the regiment thatthere should be a suspension of proceedings against Ray until they couldget in from the campaign. Even Billings turned to at Stannard's urging,and wrote personally to Ray and to the officer who was named asjudge-advocate of the court, and everybody felt glad to be rid ofGleason as he rode homeward in gloomy silence. Everybody felt that hewould be powerless for harm, little dreaming how ineffectual thoseletters would be as far as the present case against Ray was concerned;little dreaming how his going was but the means of coiling still moreclosely the folds of suspicion and dishonor around the gallant comradewhom all so gloried in for his summer's work; little dreaming of thedays of doubt and darkness and tragedy that were to envelop those theyleft behind at Russell; little dreaming that from them and from friendsat home there was coming utter isolation,--that before them lay days andweeks of toil and danger and privation, of stirring fight, of droopingspirits, of hunger, weakness, ay, starvation, wounds, and lonely death;little dreaming that when next they reached a point where news from homecould come to them one-half their gallant horses would be gone, brokendown, starved, or shot to death; many of their own number would havefallen by the way, and that of the bold, warlike array that rodebuoyantly in among the welcoming comrades in the camp of the Gray Fox,only a gaunt, haggard, tattered, unkempt shadow would remain, when,eight long weeks thereafter, there came to them the next sad news ofRay.
