by Luke Short
“I’ll give you that, too,” Burke said. “Corinne has cheated the Indians blind, and Ervien has protected him. When I recommended Ervien report Corinne’s dishonesty, I got sent on six months of patrol. And when Ponce broke out, Ervien knew he was in trouble, because I warned him Ponce would break.” He looked around at his fellow officers. “You all saw that plan of battle I submitted. You saw where K Troop, myself commanding, was placed. If anything slipped, we were in a fair position to be wiped out. It slipped, all right—and I say Ervien, in collusion with O’Mara, planned to kill me and my troop.”
“But proof, man, proof,” Abe said gently.
“Of Corinne’s crookedness? I’ve got it at the post. The rest will come out in the court martial—his or mine.”
There was a long moment of silence, which was broken at last by Ervien. “Mister Hanna, you are now under arrest—again.”
Abe Byas said gently, “No, Captain Ervien. It’s my duty as senior officer to place you under arrest and assume command.”
Ervien looked arrogantly about him. “Very well. All of you will undergo a court martial for mutiny.”
* * * *
The victors of the battle of Quartermaster Creek reached Fort Akin a little after nine o’clock the second night after the battle. The post was ablaze with lights, and the veranda of the sutler’s post crowded with the garrison soldiers and the womenfolk of absent men.
As the troopers were wearily scattering to their barracks five horsemen entered through the north sentry gate and rode along the parade ground to dismount at headquarters building, where lamps were lighted.
Lieutenant Byas led the way into the building, spoke to the sergeant, and went immediately into Captain Ervien’s office. He spoke courteously to Mr. Corinne, who had been sitting beside Ervien’s desk, then stepped aside to let Captain Ervien, Lieutenant Umberhine, Rush Doll, and Burke Hanna enter.
As Burke closed the door, Corinne said irritably, “Phil, I ought to be over checking in that pack of Ponce’s scoundrels. Can’t this wait?”
“No,” Byas said bluntly. He walked over to the desk, sat on its edge, and glanced at Burke. “Go ahead, Burke.”
Corinne’s glance flicked to Burke, who was already looking at him.
“Corinne,” Burke said, “Rush Doll has two cows in his corral. They were issued by you to Klin-se at Saturday’s issue. Klin-se has kept his ration slip—with your figures.”
He paused. Corinne looked straight ahead and said nothing. Burke went on, “We’re going over and weigh them on the agency scales.”
Corinne looked at Ervien, and only now did he begin to suspect something was amiss. Abe’s message summoning Corinne tonight was delivered by a trusted trooper who had been told to explain nothing of what had passed at the assembly point. Corinne said dryly, “Are you the commanding officer now, Mister Hanna?”
“Lieutenant Byas is.”
Corinne looked again at Ervien, and Ervien nodded.
Corinne’s already flabby face seemed to sag. He looked despairingly at Burke and said, “Our scales were broken, Mister Hanna.”
“Give it up, Alec.” Ervien’s voice was quiet, sardonic. “You’re kicking him out?” he asked Byas.
“As fast as he can pack up,” Abe said grimly. “What’ll satisfy you completely? If I get out, too?” Byas glanced questioningly at Burke.
“Yes,” Burke said implacably. “Get out. Resign or face a court martial—if Lieutenant Byas will let you. He doesn’t have to.”
Abe rose from the desk and indicated the chair. “Write it out.”
Ervien sat down wearily and Byas strode past Burke and went out into the anteroom, leaving the door open behind him. Burke heard him say, “Sergeant, before you close up, fill out papers reducing Sergeant O’Mara to private on stable police.”
When he came back, Ervien looked up from his writing. “Would you like me to give a reason?” he asked Byas.
“You’ve been given it,” Byas said quietly. “You’re no good. Officially you can say ‘for the honor of the service.’”
Ervien’s face flushed, and his glance dropped to the paper. He signed his name, rose, and extended the paper to Byas, who put it on the desk without looking at it.
“Get out of that uniform. Your transportation will be ready in an hour,” Byas said. “We’ll send your stuff to Corinne. You,” he added to Corinne, “hand over your books to Lieutenant Hanna tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. Don’t try to go to your office. It’s under guard.”
* * * *
Some minutes later, Burke and Byas said goodnight to Rush and Umberhine and wearily headed for the lights of Byas’s house. Halfway across the parade ground, Burke said, “Abe.”
“What?”
“I’m on your grass seed. So are you.”
Abe laughed. “The hell with it. As the commanding officer, I can walk where I want.”
At the house, Abe opened the door and stood aside to let Calla come into Burke’s arms. Then he went past them and inside to greet his wife. Minutes later, when Burke, with Calla, came into the living-room, Abe and Lucy were standing in the middle of the room arm in arm.
Abe said, “Calla, do you want the chaplain tonight, or would you rather be married tomorrow in your own house?” I
Calla grinned. “I can wait. But where’s my own house?”
“You’re standing in it. I’m taking over Ervien’s house tomorrow. He’s resigned.”
Calla looked up at Burke, then glanced at Abe. “Make it early, will you please?”
THE ORIGINAL “ABOUT THE AUTHOR”
For sheer storytelling ability, for credible and convincing action, few other writers of Western stories can match Luke Short in registering the “feel” of the time and place. As the author of such great action novels as Fiddlefoot, Coroner Creek, Ramrod, And the Wind Blows Free, and Hardcase, Luke Short stands in the van of writers whose stories tell of the romance and violence and color of the great American West.
Although not a born Westerner, Short has lived in the Southwest for many years. Here he can soak up color and background for his stories of the West That Was, and there is no more exciting and thrilling background for tales of true adventure.
