The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop Part 56

"Here is a babe that is tired and hungry--be good to it."

"Where is the mother?" asked Jennie, as she tenderly received the little brown boy.

"She is coming," he said, and the mother galloped up in a few moments and fairly tumbled off her horse. "See!" Curtis said to her and to the father, "My sister will give the baby milk, and its mother shall also be fed. You need not fear; both will be taken care of. We are your friends."

Cut Finger watched Jennie as she carefully carried the baby into the house, and as he turned away, a look of apathetic misery, more moving than any cry, settled on his face.

Maynard, who had been standing in the door, said, in a tone of astonishment, "Did that wild Injun carry his papoose all the way down?"

"Yes, and was as tender of it as a woman, too."

"Well, I'll be hanged! There's a whole lot for me to learn about Injuns yet. Want a guard?"

"Yes; I think it safer. There is a good deal of sympathy for this poor chap."

"I don't blame 'em very much," said Maynard. "Take him right down to our guard-house, and I'll have Payne detail a squad of men to take care of him."

"I intend taking him to Pinon myself. I can't find it in my heart to give him over into the hands of these whites--they'd lynch him, sure."

"I believe it," replied Maynard, with conviction.

As they pa.s.sed the agency gate, Winters and the county attorney stepped out as if they expected to receive the prisoner; but the savage grin on the sheriff's face died out as Curtis nodded coldly and drove past.

"That fellow is a wolf. Did you have any trouble?" asked Maynard.

"Not a bit. We surprised him in bed, as I planned to do."

"Nice thing, your leaving me out in this way!"

"Have the Brisbanes gone?"

"Yes. Got away about eight o'clock. Lawson went with them, though he's coming back to see you clear of this war. He's a crackerjack, is Lawson; but the old man has you marked for slaughter."

It was good to be able to turn his prisoner over to the blue-coats and feel that he would not be taken away except properly and in order.

Lynching does not flourish under the eyes of a commander like Maynard.

As Curtis led his man into the guard-house and motioned him to a seat, he said, in signs:

"You are safe now from the cattlemen. I am your friend, remember that. I myself will take you to the white chief's big village. I will not let the war chief have you. I will turn you over to the wise man--the man who will judge your case. I will let your wife and your little son go with you. So you see I am still your Little Father. I am very sorry you have shot this man, but you must be punished. I cannot prevent that."

As he met the sheriff he said, quietly, "I have decided to accompany you to Pinon City."

The sheriff was not greatly surprised.

"Oh, very well. But I don't see the need of it."

"I do!" replied Curtis, and his tone silenced opposition.

Going immediately to the house, Curtis flung himself down in his chair and submitted to Jennie's anxious care. She brought him some coffee and biscuit, and stood with her hand on his shoulder while he ate. "Well, they're gone--Lawson and all. I never saw a greater change in any one than in that girl. Do you remember how she was last fall? I never supposed I should come to love her. I hated her for the treatment of you then, but--I think she has a different feeling towards us now--not excepting you. I think--she was crying because she was--going--away--from--you."

He looked up at her and smiled incredulously. "Your loyalty to me, sis, is more than I deserve!"

Curtis seized a moment to cross the square to Elsie's studio, eager to see whether she had regarded his wishes or not. It was an absurd thing to ask of her, and yet he did not regret having done so. It would serve as a sort of test of her regard, her sympathy. Now as he stood at the door he hesitated--if it should be bare!

He turned the k.n.o.b and entered. The effect of the first impression was exalting, satisfying. All was in order, and the air was deliciously cool and fragrant, infilled with some rare and delicate odor. Each article was in its place--she had taken nothing but the finished pictures and some sketches which she specially needed. Sc.r.a.ps of canvas covered with splashes of color were pinned about on the walls, the easel stood in the centre of the room, and her palette and brushes were on the table. The young soldier closed the door behind him and took a seat in deep emotion. At that moment he realized to the full his need of her, and his irreparable loss. All he had suffered before was forgotten--swallowed up in the empty, hungry ache of his heart. The curtains and draperies were almost as much a part of her as her dress, and he could not have touched them at the moment, so intimately personal did they seem.

It appeared that he had not fully understood himself, after all. This empty temple, where she had lived and worked, these reminders of her beautiful self, were not to be a solace and a comfort, after all, but a torture. He felt broken and unmanned, and the aching in his throat grew to an intolerable pain, and with a reaction to disdain of himself he rose and went out, closing and locking the door.

x.x.xI

OUTWITTING THE SHERIFF

Maynard came over just as the wagon was being brought round, and with a look of concern on his big, red face, began: "Now see here, Curtis, you'd better take an escort. Those devils may be hanging round the edge of the reservation. Say the word and I'll send Payne and a squad of men."

"I don't think it at all necessary, Maynard. I don't want to excite the settlers, and, besides, the troops are all needed here. I have no fear of the mob while daylight lasts. They will not attempt to take the man from me. I leave you in command. Wilson will keep the police out on the hills and report any movement of the mob."

Maynard saluted. "Very well, Major; when may I look for you to return?"

"Not before to-morrow night. I shall get in by sundown to-day, for it is all the way down hill; the return will be slower."

"I don't like to see you go away with that cut-throat sheriff."

"I am not alone," said Curtis. "I have two of the faithfulest men in the world--Two Horns and Crow--both armed and watchful. Don't worry about me, Jack; keep yourself alert to-night."

The wagon was now standing before the guard-house, and the prisoner was being brought forth by Crow. Cut Finger, blinking around him in the noon-day glare, saw his wife already in the wagon, and went resignedly towards the agent, who beckoned to him.

"You may sit beside her," Curtis signed, and the youth climbed submissively to his seat. "Mr. Sheriff, you are to take a place beside the driver."

Winters, swollen with rebellion because of the secondary part he had to play, surlily consented to sit with Two Horns.

"Crow, you camp here," called Curtis, and the trusted Tetong scrambled to his seat. "Drive on, Two Horns."

For an hour and more no one spoke but Two Horns, gently urging the horses to their best pace. Curtis welcomed this silence, for it gave him time to take account of many things, chief of which was Brisbane's violent antagonism. "He overestimates my importance," he thought. "But that is the way such men succeed. They are as thorough-going in destroying the opposition as they are in building up their own side."

He thought, too, of that last intimate hour with Elsie, and wished he had spoken plainer with her. "It would have been definite if I had secured an answer. It would have been a negative, of course, and yet such is my folly, I still hope, and so long as there is the slightest uncertainty I shall waste my time in dreaming." His mind then turned to the question of the mob. There came into his mind again the conviction that they were waiting to intercept the sheriff at the boundary of the reservation; but he was perfectly certain that they would relinquish their designs when they found the sheriff reinforced by three determined men--one of them an army officer and the agent. He had no fear on that score; he only felt a little uneasy at leaving the agency.

A sharp exclamation from Crow brought his dreaming to an end, and, looking up, he saw a horseman approaching swiftly, his reins held high, his elbows flapping. "That's young Streeter," he said, on the impulse.

"So it is," replied Winters, hot with instant excitement. "I wonder what's his hurry?"

Calvin came up with a rush, and when opposite set his horse on his haunches with a wrench of his powerful wrist, calling, in lazy drawl: "Howdy, folks, howdy. Well, I see you've got 'im," he remarked to Curtis.

"You've been ridin' hard," said Winters; "what's your rush? Anything doin'?"

Calvin looked down at his panting, reeking horse, and carelessly replied: "Oh no. I'm just takin' it out o' this watch-eyed bronco." He exchanged a look with the sheriff. "I thought I'd ketch ye 'fore ye left the agency. I'd like a word with you, sheriff; tumble out here for a minute. You'll wait a second, won't you, Major?"