THE ROOKIES REACH FORT CLOWDRY
ONCE more the train was under way. The engineer had taken his uncoupled
engine some distance up the track, but had returned when sent for, and
now the train, twenty additional minutes late, was crawling up the steep
grade.
The wounded men lay on the floor of the car, receiving the attentions of
a physician who had been found among the passengers.
The unwounded ones stood in a corner at the forward end of the car,
Private Hal Overton, revolver in hand, watching the men closely.
Noll, a revolver in either hand, stood a little past the middle of the
car, looking wholly businesslike.
Major Davis, having gone back to make sure that his own belongings were
safe, now returned to the baggage car.
"Fellow," he asked of the tall prisoner, "what on earth made you stop
this train?"
"Hard up," replied the man sullenly. "And a friend told us that the last
time he held up a mail train, he and his pal found twelve thousand
dollars in the registered mail pouches."
"You'll find at least twelve years in the mail pouches this trip,"
retorted Major Davis grimly.
Half an hour later a stop was made at a little tank station, to enable
Major Davis to wire ahead to Salida for officers to be in readiness when
they arrived.
Then the train crawled on again through the inky darkness. Noll relieved
Hal, presently, though there seemed little need of alertness. The two
prisoners capable of fighting looked pretty well cowed. Down at the rear
end of the car, covered with a rubber blanket, lay the rigid remains of
the man killed by the major.
Something more than an hour late the train pulled in at Salida. There
was a crowd on hand, including four sheriff's officers. These latter
came to the baggage car just before the train stopped.
"Will you take full responsibility for the prisoners now?" asked Major
Davis of one officer who led the rest and who displayed his badge.
"Yes, sir," replied the deputy sheriff.
"Then I'll go and have something to eat," smiled the major dryly. "My
men, do you eat here, too?"
"Yes, sir," Hal answered, saluting.
It was not an invitation to join their officer. Both recruits fully
understood that. The gulf of discipline prevents officers and men
eating together.
On the platform before the station-building Major Davis halted long
enough to say:
"My men, I appreciate your help to-night. It would have been too much
for me alone. You men stood by me like soldiers. As a United States Army
officer I would have felt disgraced had I allowed a United States mail
car to be rifled without striking a blow to stop it."
"It was a daring thing to do, sir," Hal ventured, with another salute.
"It was my plainest sort of duty, as an officer," replied Major Davis,
returning the salute.
"May I ask, sir," ventured Hal, "whether it would have been our duty,
had we been armed, and you not on the train?"
"Not unless led by an officer," replied the major. "But where did you
young men learn to obey so promptly, and without questioning or
hesitation?"
"At the recruit rendezvous, sir."
"Which one?"
"At Bedloe's Island, sir."
"Who was your instructor?"
"One of them, sir, was a namesake of yours--Corporal Davis."
"He will be glad to hear of this," nodded the major, smiling. "Corporal
Davis is my son."
"Your son, sir--an enlisted man?" stammered Hal.
"Yes. My son enlisted in order to try to win a commission. Thank you,
men, and good-night. I will tell the sheriff's men that you will be
found at Fort Clowdry if you are wanted as witnesses."
Again acknowledging their salutes, Major Davis stepped inside.
Hal and Noll waited a moment before entering the station. When they did
so, and passed on to the lunch room, they saw Major Davis at a table in
one corner, so the rookies passed on to stools before the lunch counter.
"How long have we to eat?" asked Hal, of one of the trainmen.
"You've about twenty-two minutes left."
"I feel as if I could make excellent use of all the time," laughed Hal.
He and Noll plunged into hot chicken, potatoes and gravy, and plenty of
side dishes. The late excitement had not destroyed the appetite of
either recruit.
When they had finished Hal asked the waiter:
"How much do we owe you?"
"Nothing," replied the waiter. "I was told to say that the account is
settled, with Major Davis's compliments."
Both recruits turned, saluting in the major's direction, as token of
their thanks. He nodded, smiling.
Out on the platform, just before the train started, the recruits saw
Major Davis again. That officer was turned halfway from them, without
seeing them, so they passed along to the day coach in which they had
been riding.
Now a dozen men crowded about them, eager to talk with the young heroes
of the night.
"Pretty gritty work that you boys did," grinned one of the men. "Do you
often have things like that to do in the Army?"
"We never did, before to-night," Hal answered quietly.
"Must take a lot of nerve."
"We didn't think of it at the time," smiled Hal. "It seemed all in the
way of business."
"You ought to have seen the folks you left behind here," put in another
man.
"Oh, shut up," called others.
"No, I won't," retorted the last speaker. "What do you suppose we folks
that you left behind in this car were doing?"
"Nothing very noisy, was it?" queried Hal.
"Not particularly," admitted the man, with a laugh. "We were lying along
the aisle, or else we crawled under seats. At one time there were
altogether too many bullets hitting the side of the car, or coming
through the windows. None of us in here got hit, but that was because
of the good care we took of ourselves."
"Oh, we might have done something," protested another man, "only we
didn't have anything to shoot with."
"These two young soldiers didn't have anything to shoot with, either, at
the outset of the trouble. They hustled outside and got their guns from
the enemy."
"Got any of those guns now?" asked another passenger, crowding forward.
"Want to sell any of 'em?"
"We haven't even a cartridge," Hal replied.
"What did you do with them?"
"Turned them over to the sheriff's officers, of course."
It was nearly an hour before the curious passengers would consent to
leave the young soldiers to themselves. Noll finally managed to convey
an excellent hint by leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes as if
in sleep.
Hal dozed somewhat, but by one o'clock in the morning both recruits were
wide awake.
"What time are we due at Clowdry?" Hal asked the passing brakeman.
"More'n an hour late," answered the trainman.
"Whew! That means we won't get there until after three in the morning,"
muttered Hal.
"I wish we wouldn't get there until daylight," rejoined Noll. "Then I'd
feel like dropping back for another nap."
Nearly everyone else in the car was dozing, it being after midnight.
It was half-past three o'clock in the morning when the brakeman rested
his hand on Hal's shoulder.
"We ought to be at Clowdry in five minutes now," said the brakeman.
"Much obliged," Overton answered. "Thank goodness, Noll."
By the time that the train slowed up both recruits were out on the rear
platform of the car, each gripping his canvas case.
"Clowdry! Clowdry!" bawled the brakeman.
Hal and Noll dropped off into the black night. The only light was in the
station, past which the train slowly rolled.
There was no one in the station save the telegraph operator. On these
mountain divisions, where accidents may so easily happen, a night
operator is kept at every station.
Hal and Noll stood on the station platform until the train had pulled
out. Then, as their eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, they
made out what appeared to be a small hotel on the other side of the
track. There were two or three other buildings near by that looked like
dwellings.
"Clowdry is a pretty large city," observed Noll, with a grin.
The real town was nearly a mile away.
"I wonder where the fort is," returned Hal. "We'll ask the operator."
Apparently the operator was too well accustomed to seeing soldiers to
take any deep interest in this new pair. But he was obliging, at any
rate.
"Wait a minute," he called back, in answer to Private Overton's
question, "and I'll go and show you the road."
So the two soldiers stood by their canvas cases until the operator had
finished at his clicking instruments. Then the operator came out,
heading for the rear door of the station.
"I'll show you from here, Jack," called the operator. "You see that
road? Follow it about a half a mile; take the first turn to the left,
and then keep straight on until you come to the fort."
"How far is Fort Clowdry?" Hal wanted to know.
"About three miles from here."
"Good road?" questioned Noll.
"Tenderfeet, ain't you?" asked the operator, smiling.
"Yes," admitted Hal.
"Thought you must be," nodded the operator, "else you'd know that the
road between an Army post and the nearest freight station is always a
good one. Them Army wagon bosses would put up a fearful holler if they
had to drive the transport wagons over bad roads. Just joining?"
"Yes," assented Hal.
"Good luck to you! Well, follow the road and you can't have any
trouble."
"Thank you, and good-night," came from both recruits. Then, each taking
a new grip on his canvas case, which was fairly heavy, the recruits
started down the road.
They came, finally, to the turn to the left.
"These equipment cases don't grow any lighter with distance, do they?"
laughed Hal.
"Mine doesn't," grunted Noll.
When they had walked on a good deal farther Noll remarked:
"I wish we had that operator here!"
"What for?"
"He told us it was three miles. We could ask him what kind of miles."
"There's daylight coming," nodded Hal, pointing to the east. "That will
make the distance seem shorter."
The sun up, at last, gave the recruits their first glimpse of their
first station in the Army. Fort Clowdry lay before them. There were no
frowning parapets, no stone battlements, no cannon in sight. Fort
Clowdry, as seen at the distance, consisted of a great number of
buildings, of all sizes.
Boom! went a gun suddenly.
"Great!" cried Hal, his eyes shining. "That's the essence of the
soldier's life--the sunrise gun. The Flag has just been hauled up."
In the middle distance the recruits caught sight of a soldier pacing,
his gun, with bayonet fixed, at shoulder arms.
"That sentry will put us on the rest of our way," predicted Noll.
It being now broad daylight the sentry did not challenge the newcomers.