The young soldier took time to wash the dust from his face and hands and
smooth his hair before entering the dining-room. At the threshold he
paused and took account of his enemies. Brisbane and three of his most
trusted supporters, still sitting at coffee, were holding a low-voiced
consultation at a corner table, while Lawson and Elsie sat waiting some
distance away and near an open window. The Parkers were not in view.
Elsie, at sight of her lover, rose impulsively, and her face, tired and
pale, flushed to a beautiful pink. Her lips formed the words "Why, there
is Captain Curtis!" but her voice was inaudible.
He hastened forward with eyes only for her, and she met him with both
hands outstretched--eager, joyous!
"Oh, how good it is to see you! We were so alarmed--Calvin warned you?"
"Yes. He met me just before I left the reservation."
"But I expected you to bring soldiers; how did you escape? Did you find
the cattlemen gone?"
"I flanked them." His face relaxed into humor. "Discretion is a sort of
valor sometimes. I took the Willow road."
Lawson now joined them, and in his hand-clasp was a brother's regard for
the soldier. His smile was exultant. "Good work! I knew Calvin could be
trusted. It looked bad for Cut Finger when we reached the half-way
house."
"You must be hungry!" exclaimed Elsie. "Sit here and I will order
something for you."
"I _was hungry_ an hour ago," he said, meaningly, "but now I am not. But
I am tired," he added. "Where are the Parkers?"
Elsie laughed. "On their way to civilization. They fled on the
up-train."
"The town is aflame," said Lawson. "You and your Tetongs are an issue
here to-night. A big meeting is called, and the Senator is to speak. He
has just discovered you," he added, glancing towards Brisbane, who had
risen and was glaring at Curtis, his small eyes hot as those of an angry
bear.
"Excuse me, won't you?" pleaded Elsie, rising hastily. "I must go to
him!"
Curtis also rose and looked soberly into her eyes. "May I not see you
again?"
She hesitated. "Yes. I'm not going to the meeting. Come to our parlor
when you are finished supper."
He remained standing till she joined her father and passed from the
room, then he turned towards Lawson, who said:
"Seriously, my dear Curtis, you are in danger here. I hope you will not
go out this evening. Even Uncle Sam's blue might not prove a protection
in the dark of a night like this. Where did you house your men?"
"At Ladue's, with orders not to leave the corral."
"Quite right. Where is the sheriff?"
This question brought a humorous light into the young soldier's eyes.
"When I saw him last he was on Sage-hen Flat swinging his revolver and
cursing me," and he told the story.
Lawson grew grave. "I'm sorry you had to do that; it will give your
enemies another grip on you. It's a mere technicality, of course, but
they'll use it. You must watch every one of your clerks from this on;
they'll trump up a charge against you if they can, and secure a
court-martial. This election is really the last dying struggle of the
political banditti of the State, and they will be defeated. Take
to-night as an example. The reckless devils, the loud of mouth are alone
in evidence, the better class of citizens dare not protest--dare not
appear on the streets. But don't be deceived, you have your supporters
even here, in the midst of this saturnalia of hate. You are an issue."
Curtis grimly smiled. "I accept the challenge! They can only order me
back to my regiment."
"As for Brisbane, he is on the point of collapse. He has lost his
self-control. He has attained a fixed notion that you are his most
dangerous enemy; the mention of your name throws him into fury. I lost
patience with him to-day, and opened fire. 'You are doomed to defeat!' I
said to him. 'You represent the ignoble, greedy, conscienceless hustler
and speculator, not the peaceful, justice-loving citizen of this State.
Your dominion is gone; the reign of order and peace is about to begin.'
If it were not for Elsie I would publicly denounce him, for his election
would work incalculable injury to the West. But he can't fill the
legislature with his men as he did twelve years ago. He will fail of
election by fifty votes."
"I hope so," responded Curtis, with a sigh, as Lawson rose. "But I have
no faith in the courage of the better element; virtue is so timid and
evil is always so fully organized."
After Lawson left him Curtis hurriedly finished his supper and went his
way to his room for a moment's rest. Through the open windows he could
hear the cheering which greeted Brisbane's entrance into the
opera-house, which faced upon the little square before the hotel. The
street was thronging with noisy boys, and at intervals a band of young
herders clattered into the square. Their horses thickened along the
hitching-poles, and the saloons swarmed with men already inflamed with
drink. The air seemed heavy, oppressive, electrical, and the shrill
cheers which rose above the dull rumble of pounding boot-heels in the
hall possessed a savage animal vehemence. Again a sense of impending
disaster swept over the young officer. "I am tired and nervous," he
thought. "Surely law and order rules in a civilized community like
this."
He put away all thoughts of war as he followed the boy up the stair-way
to the Brisbane private parlor, and became the lover, palpitant with the
hope that he was about to see Elsie alone.
She met him at the door, her face a-quiver with feeling, a note of alarm
in her voice. "Have you heard the cheering? They are denouncing you over
there!"
"I suppose so. But let's not talk of such unimportant matters; this is
our last evening together, and I want to forget the storm outside. Since
I left you last night I have had a most remarkable experience, and I--"
"Oh, you mean catching the murderer; tell me about it!"
"No. Oh no; that is not worth telling. I mean something more intimately
personal." Shrill yells from across the way interrupted him, and Elsie
rose and shut the window. "I hate them; they are worse than savages,"
she said. "Please don't mind them."
He went on: "I was about to say I had a deal of time to think on my long
ride this morning, and I reached some conclusions which I want to tell
you about. When my prisoner was safe in the guard-house, I went over to
see how my little temple of art looked--I mean your studio, of course. I
closed the door and dropped into one of the big chairs, hoping to gain
rest and serenity in the beauty and quiet of the place. But I didn't; I
was painfully depressed."