by Charles King
CHAPTER V
A GRAVE DISCOVERY
Only an hour was the major away from his post. He came back in time forguard mounting and the reports of the officers-of-the-day. He had reasonto be on the parade at the "assembly of the details," not so much towatch the work of the post adjutant _pro tempore_, as the effect of thesudden and unlooked for change on certain of the customary spectators.He had swiftly ridden to the camp of the recreant Stabber and purposelydemanded speech with that influential chieftain. There had been theusual attempt on part of the old men left in charge to hoodwink and totemporize, but when sharply told that Stabber, with his warriors, hadbeen seen riding away toward Eagle Butte at three in the morning, thesages calmly confessed judgment, but declared they had no other purposethan a hunt for a drove of elk reported seen about the famous Indianrace course in the lower hills of the Big Horn. Circling the camp,however, Webb had quickly counted the pony tracks across the still dewybunchgrass of the bench, and found Schreiber's estimate substantiallycorrect. Then, stopping at the lodge of Stabbers's uncle, old "SpottedHorse," where that superannuated but still sagacious chief was squattedon his blanket and ostentatiously puffing a long Indian pipe, Webbdemanded to know what young men remained in the village. Over a hundredstrong, old men, squaws and children, they thronged about him, silent,big-eyed and attentive, Schreiber interpreting as best he could,resorting to the well-known sign language when the crafty Siouxprofessed ignorance of the meaning of his words:--
"No young men. All gone," was the positive declaration of the venerablehead of the bailiwick, when compelled at last to answer. But Schreiberhad studied the pony herd and knew better. Moreover, not more than sixof their ponies had been led along with the war party that set forth inthe early hours of the moonlit morning. Others, both men and mounts,unavoidably left behind, would surely be sent forward at the firstpossible opportunity, and, much as Webb might wish to turn back tocapture the party, well as he might know that other bands were in revoltand Stabber gone to help them, he was powerless under his orders tointerfere until by some openly hostile act these laggards of the littleband invited his reprisal. The rule of the road, as prescribed by thecivil authorities, to which the soldier had sworn obedience, beingpractically, "Don't defend until you are hit. Don't shoot until you areshot."
Webb came cantering back assured that these frowsy, malodorous lodgesconcealed, perhaps, half a score of fighting men who were a menace tothe neighborhood and who could be counted on to make it more thaninteresting for any couriers that might have to be sent between the fortand the forces at the front. Calling Schreiber to his side, as, withlong easy stride their trained mounts went loping swiftly homeward, hegave instructions the veteran heard with kindling eyes. Then, partingfrom him at the corrals, the commander rode on and dismounted at hisquarters just as the trumpeters were forming on the broad, grassy levelof the parade.
Even without a band young Field had managed to make his guard mount apretty and attractive ceremony. Frayne was a big post and needed a dailyguard of twenty-four men, with the usual quota of non-commissionedofficers. Cowboys, herders, miners, prospectors, rustlers (those piratesof the plains) and occasional bands of Indians, Sioux or Arapahoe, wereforever hovering about its borders in search of supplies, solid orfluid, and rarely averse to the conversion of public property topersonal use. Like many a good citizen of well-ordered municipalitieswithin the confines of civilization, they held that what belonged to thegovernment belonged to them, and the fact that some officer would haveto pay for whatsoever they stole, from a horse to a hammer, cut nofigure in their deliberations. Frayne had long been a favorite place forfitting out depleted stock, animal, vegetable or mineral, and there hadbeen times when Webb found as many as forty men almost too small aguard, and so gave it to be understood that sentries whose carbines wereunlawfully discharged at night, without the formality of preliminarychallenge or other intimation of business intentions, would be heldblameless, provided they had something to show for their shot. Aremarkable feature of the winter's depredation had been that Hay'scorral was never molested, although unguarded by the garrison and quiteas much exposed as the most remote of the government shops, shanties orstables.
Field mounted his guard, except in cold or stormy weather, in fulluniform, and the daily "march past" in review brought many of thegarrison ladies, most of the children and all of the dogs to the scene.Some of the households breakfasted just before,--some just after--guardmounting, but, as a rule, no one sat at table when almost everybody elsewas gathered along the westward edge of the broad parade. It was therethe plans for the social day were discussed and determined. Rides,drives, hunts or picnics away from the post; dances, dinners, croquet ortennis within the garrison limits. It was the hour when all the girlswere out, looking fair and fresh as daisies, and while the motherssedately gossiped along the row of broad verandas, their daughtersblithely chatted in little groups, or, as might often be, paced slowlywith downcast eyes and mantling cheeks at the side of some young gallantwho had no thought for other duty than that of the thrilling moment. Andhere they were, well nigh a dozen of them, of all ages from twelve totwenty, as the major sent his mount to the stables and made quick surveyof the scene, and a moment's glance was sufficient to show that amongthem all there was stir and excitement beyond that which would becaused by so common an incident as the sending forth of a troop onscout.
It was the fact that Field had gone and that young Ross was acting inhis place that set them all to speculating on the cause. One of theirnumber, promenading with Lieutenant Hartley, glanced up at Major Webb asthey passed him by, with such a world of mingled question and reproachin her soft blue eyes that his heart for the moment smote him. He hadnever seen Esther Dade looking so languid or so wan, yet more _of_ herand _for_ her had he been thinking during the week gone by than of anyother girl in or out of the army. To-day, however, there was another heeagerly sought to see, and, with something akin to keen disappointment,noted that she was not among the strollers along the board walk or thechatting groups about the steps and gateways. Not once during her briefvisit had she as yet missed guard mounting. Now her absence wassignificant. In the very eyes of the little party hastening towardhim--three young girls and a brace of subalterns--he read question andcross-question, and was thankful to see Hay, the trader, trudging up thewalk to join him. So seldom did the old frontiersman enter thequadrangle that people remarked upon his coming;--remarked still morewhen Webb hurried down to meet him.
"You're right about the horses, major," said Hay, mopping a moist andtroubled face with a big bandana. "My racer and my best single footer,Dan, were out last night. Dan's saddle cloth was wet and so wasHarney's. Some one outside has got false keys,--I'll put new padlocks onat once,--but for the life of me I can't think who would play me such atrick. To _steal_ the horses,--run 'em off to Rawlins or up theSweetwater or off to the Hills--I could understand that! but to borrowthem for an hour or two,--why, it beats me hollow!" And Hay in deepperplexity leaned against the low fence and almost imploringly gazedinto the major's face. They all leaned on Webb.
"Any idea who they were?" asked the commander.
"Not the skin of a shadow, 'cept that one man rode shorter stirrups'n Ido. They forgot to set 'em back. They had my California saddle on Danand that light Whitman of mine on Harney."
"Sure it was two men?" queried Webb, looking straight into the trader'seyes.
"What else could it be?" demanded Hay, in no little excitement.
"Well, I thought possibly Miss Flower might have been moved to take amoonlight ride. No reason why she shouldn't, you know, and not wishingto disturb you----"
"Then she would have used her own side-saddle. What's she doing with aman's? Besides, she'd have told me!"
"Oh! You've seen her then this morning? I thought perhaps she wasn'tup," hazarded Webb.
"Up? Why, hang it, she was up at daybreak--up hours ago, my wife says.Haven't you seen her? She's over here somewhere?"
No, Webb had not seen her, and to
gether the two started in search, firstto the flagstaff, and there at the point of bluff beyond theRays',--there she stood, gazing up the Platte toward the Indian villagethrough a pair of signal glasses that weighed heavily in her daintilygloved hands. Captain Tracy, a bachelor assistant surgeon, stoodfaithfully by her side, listening to her lively chatter, with ears thatabsorbed and eyes that worshipped.
"Come away," said Webb. "I have an order on you for Field's currency inyour safe. When are you going to try to get your cash to bank?" And Webbkeenly eyed his man as he asked the question.
"To-morrow or next day sure,--even if I have to go part way with thestage myself. When do you want this money?" said Hay, tapping theenvelope Webb had given him.
"Well, now, if agreeable to you. I prefer to keep such funds at thequartermaster's. Oh--Good morning, Mrs. Ray!" he cheerily called,lifting his cap, at sight of a young matron at an upper window. "Can yousee them still?" he added, for the elder of the two boys was peeringthrough a long telescope, perched on its brass tripod upon a littleshelf projecting from the sill. Many a time had the "Rays' spyglass"been the last to discern some departing troop as it crossed the lowdivide ten miles away to the north. Many a time had the firstannouncement of "courier coming" reached headquarters through MasterSandy, the first born of their olive branches. There were unshed tearsin the gentle voice that answered. There was wordless anxiety in thesweet, pallid face that smiled so bravely through its sorrow. "The trooppassed out of sight quarter of an hour ago, major," said Mrs. Ray. "ButSandy could see the flankers on their left until within the last fiveminutes."
"_Way_ out on their left, major!" interposed that young gentleman, bigwith importance. "If old Stabber tries any of his tricks with _that_troop he'll--he'll get his belly full!" and Master Sandy plainlyintimated both in tone and manner, not to mention the vernacular of thesoldier, that Stabber might take liberties with any other troop orcompany at the post, but would best beware of Daddy's. And yet, notthree months agone he had stoutly taken up the cudgels for the Fraynegarrison, as a whole, against the field, the wordy battle with the sonand heir of the colonel commanding at Laramie culminating in a combatonly terminated by the joint efforts of the stable sergeant and sentry,for both youngsters were game as their sires. What Sandy Ray was nowpraying to see was an attack by Stabber's band upon the isolated troop,but Stabber, it may be said, knew a trick worth ten of that. There wasno sense in pitching into the sorrel troop on even terms when by waitinganother day, perhaps, and the answer of Lame Wolf to the appeal of hisspeedy messenger, he might outnumber and overwhelm them with five toone.
"We should be hearing from Omaha and Laramie by ten o'clock, Mrs. Ray,"said the major, reassuringly, "and I will send you word at once. And, ofcourse, Corporal Ray," he continued, and now with martial formalityaddressing the lad at the telescope, "I can rely upon you to report atonce in case you see anything suspicious toward the Big Horn."
"Yes, sir," answered the boy, straightening up to attention. Then,scrupulously exchanging salutes, the old soldier and the young partedcompany, and the major returned to receive the reports of the old andnew officers of the day. These gentlemen were still with him, CaptainChew, of the Infantry, and the senior first lieutenant for duty with the----th, when Hay came hurrying up the board walk from the direction ofthe store. For reasons of his own, Webb had sent his orderly to theguard-house to say to the officers in question that he would await themat his quarters instead of the little building known as the adjutant'soffice, in which were the offices of the commander, the record room inwhich were placed the desks of the sergeant-major and his three clerks,and the sleeping rooms of the special duty soldiers. It had happenedmore than once in the past that garrison stories of matters not supposedto be known outside the office had been traced back to that desk room,and now Webb's questions of his old officer of the day, and hisinstructions to the new were not things he cared to have bruited aboutthe post. He was listening intently to the captain's report of thesentries' observations during the night gone by when Hay reached thegate and stopped, not wishing to intrude at such a moment.
"Come in, Mr. Hay," said the commander, cordially. "This all willinterest you," and, thus bidden, the trader joined the soldiers three onthe veranda, and some of the young people of the garrison, setting uptheir croquet arches on the parade, looked curiously toward the group,and wondered what should keep the old officer-of-the-day so long.Sauntering down the walk, smiling radiantly upon the occupants of thevarious verandas that she passed, then beaming between times into theface of her smitten escort, her black eyes and white teeth flashing inthe rare sunshine, Nanette Flower was gradually nearing the major'squarters. She was barely twenty yards away when, in obedience to someword of the major, Mr. Hay held forth two white packages that, even atthe distance, could be recognized, so far as the outer covering wasconcerned, as official envelopes. She was too far away, perhaps, to hearwhat was said.
"It seems," began Webb, to his officers, as he mechanically opened thefirst packet, "that Field took fire at Wilkins's growls about the botherof keeping his funds, so the youngster stowed his money with Hay. Heinsisted on turning over everything before he left, so I receipted tohim. Let's see," he continued, glancing at the memorandum in his hand."Three hundred and seventy-two dollars and eighty-five cents post fund,and four hundred belonging to various enlisted men. I may as well countit in your presence."
By this time the long, lean fingers had ripped open the package markedfour hundred, and were extracting the contents,--a sheet of officialpaper with figures and memoranda, and then a flat package, apparently,of currency. Topmost was a five dollar treasury note; bottom-mostanother of the same denomination. Between them, deftly cut, trimmed andsized, were blank slips of paper to the number of perhaps thirty and thevalue of not one cent. With paling faces the officers watched thetrembling fingers slash open the second, its flap, as was that of thefirst envelope, securely gummed,--not sealed. A nickel or two and a fewdimes slid out before the packet came. It was of like consistency withthe first--and of about the same value. Webb lifted up his eyes andlooked straight into the amazed,--almost livid, face of the trader.
"My God! Major Webb," cried Hay, aghast and bewildered. "Don't look atme like that! No man on earth has ever accused me of a crime. This meansthat not only my stable but my safe has been robbed,--and there is atraitor within my gates."
Dr. Tracy, absorbed in contemplation of Miss Flower's radiant face, andin the effort to make his own words eloquent, had no ears for those ofothers. He never heeded the trader's excited outburst. He only saw hersuddenly flinch, suddenly pale, then sway. His ready arm was round herin a twinkling. In a twinkling she twisted free from the undesiredclasp.
"Just--my foot turned!--a pebble!" she gasped.
But when, all assiduity, Tracy would have seated her on the horseblockand examined the delicate ankle, she refused straightway, and withalmost savage emphasis, and with rigid lips from which all lovelinesshad fled, bade him lead on home, where, despite protest and appeal,personal and professional, she dismissed him curtly.
