The Aftertime
The crack of doom will never hit Fort Ryan harder. When the thousand
painted Sioux came riding, yelling, wild with joy, shooting their rifles
in the air, racing in a vast, appalling hoof tornado down the long track
and then to the lodge of all the stakes, they went as men who are
rushing to save their own from some swift flood that threatens. But they
got an unexpected shock. The red sentry and the white sentry were
standing--sullen, for they were forced to miss the race. Still, the
result was clear.
The Sioux were each for claiming the bundle with his name. But the
soldier on guard, with fixed bayonet, ordered all the frenzied rabble
back.
"I don't know anything about your darned race, and here I stand till I
get orders from my officer."
It was the very impudence of his courage that saved him from what they
thought righteous vengeance. The Colonel came at once. The guard saluted
and withdrew and the Red men seized their spoils. And, strange to say,
among themselves they had not one dispute; none tried to overreach; each
knew his mark and claimed his own.
The whites were like men under a gallows doom.
"Stung, stung!" was all the Colonel had to say.
The Adjutant, an erratic officer, had lost half a year's pay. The
magnitude of the disaster was almost national, he felt, and sadly,
shyly, he said: "Will you have the flag at half-mast, Colonel?"
"No!" thundered the Colonel. "I'll be darned if the flag shall hang at
half-mast for anything less than the death of an American."
And the Rev. James Hartigan! He stared stonily before him as the race
was won.
Belle was at hand and she watched him closely. He turned deathly pale.
"What is it, Jim?" she said quietly, and laid her hand on his.
"Oh, Belle, this is awful."
"Why, Jim? Why should you care? It isn't as if it were Blazing Star.
We're sorry for all those men, of course; but maybe it's the best thing
for them. I think now they'll realize the curse and folly of racetrack
gambling."
"Oh, Belle, if you only knew," groaned Jim.
"Knew what, Jim dear? It seems to me those men are getting their
deserts. I know you and Dr. Jebb did all you could to hold them back,
and denounced all racing as it properly should be."
Jim turned his head away and pressing his forehead with his great
powerful hand, he groaned.
"Jim, dear boy, why do you take it so hard? Why should you worry? I'm
sorry for the women and children that will suffer for this, but I have
little pity for the men; the fools, _they_ knew what they were doing."
"Let's ride away," he said; and as he turned, he saw Red Cloud, calm and
dignified, on his horse watching wagon after wagon go by filled with
plunder, on its way to the Indian camp.
Jim and Belle rode away from the painful scene. She was leading for the
Fort; but he said, "I must see Higginbotham." She followed as he went to
the tent with the sign, "John & Hannah Higginbotham--Insurance." A
number of Indians were in and about, laughing merrily and talking in
their own tongue. Jim waited till the tent was clear, then dismounted.
Belle was for following, but Jim said, "Would you mind holding the
horses? I won't be a minute." His face was so drawn and sad that she was
deeply touched. She had meant to prick and lash him for a while yet, but
now in pity she forbore.
He entered. The Deacon was sitting at a little desk. Beside him was a
small safe; it was open, but nearly empty now.
"Well," said Jim gruffly, almost savagely, "what's to do?"
"Nothing," said the Deacon calmly. "You've lost. The Indians have been
here and got most of their plunder. Your five hundred is now the
property of a person named 'Two Strikes' who will, doubtless, call
presently and secure the indemnity, less my reasonable 5 per cent.
commission."
Jim turned in silence. As he joined Belle, she said, "Here, Jim, help me
down; I want a word with the Deacon."
Jim stammered, "I--well--ah----"
She paid no attention, but said, "Now lead the horses over there." When
he was safely away, she entered. The Deacon's eyes twinkled. "Good
afternoon, Two Strikes, you people have made a great killing."
"Yes," she said calmly; "I've come for my share."
He opened the safe, took out the last of the packets tied up in a
particular shape, and said in businesslike tone, "Two hundred and fifty
dollars premium, five hundred dollars insurance, 5 per cent, on
indemnity collected is twenty-five dollars; shall I hold it out?"
"No," she said; "I'll keep that bunch untouched. Here it is." She handed
him his twenty-five dollars, put the seven hundred and fifty dollars in
her side bag, and went forth. Jim stared at her in a frightened way as
she came.
"Belle," he said huskily, "what did he say?"
"Oh, nothing special. Judging from his looks, I don't think he's lost
any money."
"Did--did he tell you anything?"
"About what?"
"About me?"
"No. Why? Why do you look so terribly upset, Jim?" and mounting, she
rode off beside him.
"Oh, Belle, I can't lie to you. I'll tell you all about it. Belle, I put
up all I had, the money I got for Blazing Star. All we were to furnish
with. I wanted to hand you the money _you_ wanted. Calling it insurance
blinded me; the temptation was too much. I should have known better. Oh,
Belle, will you ever forgive me? I'm nothing but a gambler," and,
crushed with shame, he repeated, "I'm nothing but a criminal racetrack
gambler."
An overwhelming compassion swamped her. She leaned toward him and said
softly, "So am I, Jim, I'm just as bad as you are."
"What--what do you mean?"
"Jim, do you know the name of the Indian that got your stake?"
"Yes. He said it was 'Two Strikes.'"
"Jim, dear, I am 'Two Strikes.' Here is your money back; only it's our
money now, Jim darling. Now never a word of this to any human soul"; and
screened by the cottonwood trees, they fell sobbing in each other's
arms.