The waiter departed with the breakfast things and the note, and while
the jack-pots continued the Governor's mind went carefully over the
situation.
Until lately the Western citizen has known one every-day experience that
no dweller in our thirteen original colonies has had for two hundred
years. In Massachusetts they have not seen it since 1641; in Virginia
not since 1628. It is that of belonging to a community of which every
adult was born somewhere else. When you come to think of this a little
it is dislocating to many of your conventions. Let a citizen of Salem,
for instance, or a well-established Philadelphia Quaker, try to imagine
his chief-justice fresh from Louisiana, his mayor from Arkansas, his
tax-collector from South Carolina, and himself recently arrived in a
wagon from a thousand-mile drive. To be governor of such a community
Ballard had travelled in a wagon from one quarter of the horizon; from
another quarter Wingo had arrived on a mule. People reached Boise in
three ways: by rail to a little west of the Missouri, after which it was
wagon, saddle, or walk for the remaining fifteen hundred miles; from
California it was shorter; and from Portland, Oregon, only about five
hundred miles, and some of these more agreeable, by water up the
Columbia. Thus it happened that salt often sold for its weight in
gold-dust. A miner in the Bannock Basin would meet a freight teamster
coming in with the staples of life, having journeyed perhaps sixty
consecutive days through the desert, and valuing his salt highly. The
two accordingly bartered in scales, white powder against yellow, and
both parties content. Some in Boise to-day can remember these bargains.
After all, they were struck but thirty years ago. Governor Ballard and
Treasurer Hewley did not come from the same place, but they constituted
a minority of two in Territorial politics because they hailed from north
of Mason and Dixon's line. Powhattan Wingo and the rest of the Council
were from Pike County, Missouri. They had been Secessionists, some of
them Knights of the Golden Circle; they had belonged to Price's Left
Wing, and they flocked together. They were seven--two lying unwell at
the Overland, five now present in the State-House with the Governor and
Treasurer. Wingo, Gascon Claiborne, Gratiot des Peres, Pete Cawthon, and
F. Jackson Gilet were their names. Besides this Council of seven were
thirteen members of the Idaho House of Representatives, mostly of the
same political feather with the Council, and they too would be present
at noon to receive their pay. How Ballard and Hewley came to be a
minority of two is a simple matter. Only twenty-five months had gone
since Appomattox Court-House. That surrender was presently followed by
Johnston's to Sherman, at Durhams Station, and following this the
various Confederate armies in Alabama, or across the Mississippi, or
wherever they happened to be, had successively surrendered--but not
Price's Left Wing. There was the wide open West under its nose, and no
Grant or Sherman infesting that void. Why surrender? Wingos, Claibornes,
and all, they melted away. Price's Left Wing sailed into the prairie and
passed below the horizon. To know what it next did you must, like
Ballard or Hewley, pass below the horizon yourself, clean out of sight
of the dome at Washington to remote, untracked Idaho. There, besides
wild red men in quantities, would you find not very tame white ones,
gentlemen of the ripest Southwestern persuasion, and a Legislature to
fit. And if, like Ballard or Hewley, you were a Union man, and the
President of the United States had appointed you Governor or Secretary
of such a place, your days would be full of awkwardness, though your
difference in creed might not hinder you from playing draw-poker with
the unreconstructed. These Missourians were whole-souled, ample-natured
males in many ways, but born with a habit of hasty shooting. The
Governor, on setting foot in Idaho, had begun to study pistolship, but
acquired thus in middle life it could never be with him that spontaneous
art which it was with Price's Left Wing. Not that the weapons now lying
loose about the State-House were brought for use there. Everybody always
went armed in Boise, as the gravestones impliedly testified. Still, the
thought of the bad quarter of an hour which it might come to at noon did
cross Ballard's mind, raising the image of a column in the morrow's
paper: "An unfortunate occurrence has ended relations between esteemed
gentlemen hitherto the warmest personal friends.... They will be laid
to rest at 3 p.m.... As a last token of respect for our lamented
Governor, the troops from Boise Barracks...." The Governor trusted that
if his friends at the post were to do him any service it would not be a
funeral one.
The new pitcher of toddy came from the Overland, the jack-pots
continued, were nearing a finish, and Ballard began to wonder if
anything had befallen a part of his note to the bar-tender, an enclosure
addressed to another person.
"Ha, suh!" said Wingo to Hewley. "My pot again, I declah." The chips had
been crossing the table his way, and he was now loser but six hundred
dollars.
"Ye ain't goin' to whip Mizzooruh all night an' all day, ez a rule,"
observed Pete Cawthon, Councillor from Lost Leg.
"'Tis a long road that has no turnin', Gove'nuh," said F. Jackson Gilet,
more urbanely. He had been in public life in Missouri, and was now
President of the Council in Idaho. He, too, had arrived on a mule, but
could at will summon a rhetoric dating from Cicero, and preserved by
many luxuriant orators until after the middle of the present century.
"True," said the Governor, politely. "But here sits the long-suffering
bank, whichever way the road turns. I'm sleepy."
"You sacrifice yo'self in the good cause," replied Gilet, pointing to
the poker game. "Oneasy lies the head that wahs an office, suh." And
Gilet bowed over his compliment.
The Governor thought so indeed. He looked at the Treasurer's strong-box,
where lay the appropriation lately made by Congress to pay the Idaho
Legislature for its services; and he looked at the Treasurer, in whose
pocket lay the key of the strong-box. He was accountable to the Treasury
at Washington for all money disbursed for Territorial expenses.
"Eleven twenty," said Wingo, "and only two hands mo' to play."
The Governor slid out his own watch.
"I'll scahsely recoup," said Wingo.
They dealt and played the hand, and the Governor strolled to the window.
"Three aces," Wingo announced, winning again handsomely. "I struck my
luck too late," he commented to the on-lookers. While losing he had been
able to sustain a smooth reticence; now he gave his thoughts freely to
the company, and continually moved and fingered his increasing chips.
The Governor was still looking out of the window, where he could see far
up the street, when Wingo won the last hand, which was small. "That ends
it, suh, I suppose?" he said to Hewley, letting the pack of cards linger
in his grasp.
"I wouldn't let him off yet," said Ballard to Wingo from the window,
with sudden joviality, and he came back to the players. "I'd make him
throw five cold hands with me."
"Ah, Gove'nuh, that's yoh spo'tin' blood! Will you do it, Mistuh
Hewley--a hun'red a hand?"
Mr. Hewley did it; and winning the first, he lost the second, third, and
fourth in the space of an eager minute, while the Councillors drew their
chairs close.
"Let me see," said Wingo, calculating, "if I lose this--why still--" He
lost. "But I'll not have to ask you to accept my papuh, suh. Wingo
liquidates. Fo'ty days at six dolluhs a day makes six times fo' is
twenty-fo'--two hun'red an' fo'ty dolluhs spot cash in hand at noon,
without computation of mileage to and from Silver City at fo' dolluhs
every twenty miles, estimated according to the nearest usually travelled
route." He was reciting part of the statute providing mileage for Idaho
legislators. He had never served the public before, and he knew all the
laws concerning compensation by heart. "You'll not have to wait fo' yoh
money, suh," he concluded.
"Well, Mr. Wingo," said Governor Ballard, "it depends on yourself
whether your pay comes to you or not." He spoke cheerily. "If you don't
see things my way, our Treasurer will have to wait for his money." He
had not expected to break the news just so, but it made as easy a
beginning as any.
"See things yoh way, suh?"
"Yes. As it stands at present I cannot take the responsibility of paying
you."
"The United States pays me, suh. My compensation is provided by act of
Congress."
"I confess I am unable to discern your responsibility, Gove'nuh," said
F. Jackson Gilet. "Mr. Wingo has faithfully attended the session, and
is, like every gentleman present, legally entitled to his emoluments."
"You can all readily become entitled--"
"All? Am I--are my friends--included in this new depa'tyuh?"
"The difficulty applies generally, Mr. Gilet."
"Do I understand the Gove'nuh to insinuate--nay, gentlemen, do not rise!
Be seated, I beg." For the Councillors had leaped to their feet.
"Whar's our money?" said Pete Cawthon. "Our money was put in thet yere
box."
Ballard flushed angrily, but a knock at the door stopped him, and he
merely said, "Come in."
A trooper, a corporal, stood at the entrance, and the disordered Council
endeavored to look usual in a stranger's presence. They resumed their
seats, but it was not easy to look usual on such short notice.
"Captain Paisley's compliments," said the soldier, mechanically, "and
will Governor Ballard take supper with him this evening?"
"Thank Captain Paisley," said the Governor (his tone was quite usual),
"and say that official business connected with the end of the session
makes it imperative for me to be at the State-House. Imperative."
The trooper withdrew. He was a heavy-built, handsome fellow, with black
mustache and black eyes that watched through two straight, narrow slits
beneath straight black brows. His expression in the Council Chamber had
been of the regulation military indifference, and as he went down the
steps he irrelevantly sang an old English tune:
"'Since first I saw your face I resolved
To honor and re--'
"I guess," he interrupted himself as he unhitched his horse, "parrot and
monkey hev broke loose."
The Legislature, always in its shirt-sleeves, the cards on the table,
and the toddy on the floor, sat calm a moment, cooled by this brief
pause from the first heat of its surprise, while the clatter of Corporal
Jones's galloping shrank quickly into silence.
II
Captain Paisley walked slowly from the adjutant's office at Boise
Barracks to his quarters, and his orderly walked behind him. The captain
carried a letter in his hand, and the orderly, though distant a
respectful ten paces, could hear him swearing plain as day. When he
reached his front door Mrs. Paisley met him.
"Jim," cried she, "two more chickens froze in the night." And the
delighted orderly heard the captain so plainly that he had to blow his
nose or burst.
The lady, merely remarking "My goodness, Jim," retired immediately to
the kitchen, where she had a soldier cook baking, and feared he was not
quite sober enough to do it alone. The captain had paid eighty dollars
for forty hens this year at Boise, and twenty-nine had now passed away,
victims to the climate. His wise wife perceived his extreme language not
to have been all on account of hens, however; but he never allowed her
to share in his professional worries, so she stayed safe with the
baking, and he sat in the front room with a cigar in his mouth.
Boise was a two-company post without a major, and Paisley, being senior
captain, was in command, an office to which he did not object. But his
duties so far this month of May had not pleased him in the least.
Theoretically, you can have at a two-company post the following
responsible people: one major, two captains, four lieutenants, a doctor,
and a chaplain. The major has been spoken of; it is almost needless to
say that the chaplain was on leave, and had never been seen at Boise by
any of the present garrison; two of the lieutenants were also on leave,
and two on surveying details--they had influence at Washington; the
other captain was on a scout with General Crook somewhere near the
Malheur Agency, and the doctor had only arrived this week. There had
resulted a period when Captain Paisley was his own adjutant,
quartermaster, and post surgeon, with not even an efficient sergeant to
rely upon; and during this period his wife had stayed a good deal in the
kitchen. Happily the doctor's coming had given relief to the hospital
steward and several patients, and to the captain not only an equal, but
an old friend, with whom to pour out his disgust; and together every
evening they freely expressed their opinion of the War Department and
its treatment of the Western army.
There were steps at the door, and Paisley hurried out. "Only you!" he
exclaimed, with such frank vexation that the doctor laughed loudly.
"Come in, man, come in," Paisley continued, leading him strongly by the
arm, sitting him down, and giving him a cigar. "Here's a pretty how de
do!"
"More Indians!" inquired Dr. Tuck.
"Bother! they're nothing. It's Senators--Councillors--whatever the
Territorial devils call themselves."
"Gone on the war-path?" the doctor said, quite ignorant how nearly he
had touched the Council.
"Precisely, man. War-path. Here's the Governor writing me they'll be
scalping him in the State-House at twelve o'clock. It's past 11.30.
They'll be whetting knives about now." And the captain roared.
"I know you haven't gone crazy," said the doctor, "but who has?"
"The lot of them. Ballard's a good man, and--what's his name?--the
little Secretary. The balance are just mad dogs--mad dogs. Look here:
'Dear Captain'--that's Ballard to me. I just got it--'I find myself
unexpectedly hampered this morning. The South shows signs of being too
solid. Unless I am supported, my plan for bringing our Legislature to
terms will have to be postponed. Hewley and I are more likely to be
brought to terms ourselves--a bad precedent to establish in Idaho. Noon
is the hour for drawing salaries. Ask me to supper as quick as you can,
and act on my reply.' I've asked him," continued Paisley, "but I haven't
told Mrs. Paisley to cook anything extra yet." The captain paused to
roar again, shaking Tuck's shoulder for sympathy. Then he explained the
situation in Idaho to the justly bewildered doctor. Ballard had confided
many of his difficulties lately to Paisley.
"He means you're to send troops?" Tuck inquired.
"What else should the poor man mean?"
"Are you sure it's constitutional?"
"Hang constitutional! What do I know about their legal quibbles at
Washington?"
"But, Paisley--"
"They're unsurrendered rebels, I tell you. Never signed a parole."
"But the general amnesty--"
"Bother general amnesty! Ballard represents the Federal government in
this Territory, and Uncle Sam's army is here to protect the Federal
government. If Ballard calls on the army it's our business to obey, and
if there's any mistake in judgment it's Ballard's, not mine." Which was
sound soldier common-sense, and happened to be equally good law. This is
not always the case.
"You haven't got any force to send," said Tuck.
This was true. General Crook had taken with him both Captain Sinclair's
infantry and the troop (or company, as cavalry was also then called) of
the First.
"A detail of five or six with a reliable non-commissioned officer will
do to remind them it's the United States they're bucking against," said
Paisley. "There's a deal in the moral of these things. Crook--" Paisley
broke off and ran to the door. "Hold his horse!" he called out to the
orderly; for he had heard the hoofs, and was out of the house before
Corporal Jones had fairly arrived. So Jones sprang off and hurried up,
saluting. He delivered his message.
"Um--umpra--what's that? Is it _imperative_ you mean?" suggested
Paisley.
"Yes, sir," said Jones, reforming his pronunciation of that unaccustomed
word. "He said it twiced."
"What were they doing?"
"Blamed if I--beg the captain's pardon--they looked like they was
waitin' fer me to git out."
"Go on--go on. How many were there?"
"Seven, sir. There was Governor Ballard and Mr. Hewley and--well, them's
all the names I know. But," Jones hastened on with eagerness, "I've saw
them five other fellows before at a--at--" The corporal's voice failed,
and he stood looking at the captain.
"Well? Where?"
"At a cock-fight, sir," murmured Jones, casting his eyes down.
A slight sound came from the room where Tuck was seated, listening, and
Paisley's round gray eyes rolled once, then steadied themselves
fiercely upon Jones.
"Did you notice anything further unusual, corporal?"
"No, sir, except they was excited in there. Looked like they might be
goin' to hev considerable rough house--a fuss, I mean, sir. Two was in
their socks. I counted four guns on a table."
"Take five men and go at once to the State-House. If the Governor needs
assistance you will give it, but do nothing hasty. Stop trouble, and
make none. You've got twenty minutes."
"Captain--if anybody needs arrestin'--"
"You must be judge of that." Paisley went into the house. There was no
time for particulars.
"Snakes!" remarked Jones. He jumped on his horse and dashed down the
slope to the men's quarters.
"Crook may be here any day or any hour," said Paisley, returning to the
doctor. "With two companies in the background, I think Price's Left Wing
will subside this morning."
"Supposing they don't?"
"I'll go myself; and when it gets to Washington that the commanding
officer at Boise personally interfered with the Legislature of Idaho,
it'll shock 'em to that extent that the government will have to pay for
a special commission of investigation and two tons of red tape. I've got
to trust to that corporal's good sense. I haven't another man at the
post."
[Illustration: "HIS PLAN WAS TO WALK AND KEEP QUIET"]
Corporal Jones had three-quarters of a mile to go, and it was ten
minutes before noon, so he started his five men at a run. His plan was
to walk and look quiet as soon as he reached the town, and thus
excite no curiosity. The citizens were accustomed to the sight of
passing soldiers. Jones had thought out several things, and he was not
going to order bayonets fixed until the final necessary moment. "Stop
trouble and make none" was firm in his mind. He had not long been a
corporal. It was still his first enlistment. His habits were by no
means exemplary; and his frontier personality, strongly developed by
six years of vagabonding before he enlisted, was scarcely yet
disciplined into the military machine of the regulation pattern that
it should and must become before he could be counted a model soldier.
His captain had promoted him to steady him, if that could be, and to
give his better qualities a chance. Since then he had never been drunk
at the wrong time. Two years ago it would not have entered his
free-lance heart to be reticent with any man, high or low, about any
pleasure in which he saw fit to indulge; to-day he had been shy over
confessing to the commanding officer his leaning to cock-fights--a
sign of his approach to the correct mental attitude of the enlisted
man. Being corporal had wakened in him a new instinct, and this
State-House affair was the first chance he had had to show himself. He
gave the order to proceed at a walk in such a tone that one of the
troopers whispered to another, "Specimen ain't going to forget he's
wearing a chevron."
III
The brief silence that Jones and his invitation to supper had caused
among the Councillors was first broken by F. Jackson Gilet.
"Gentlemen," he said, "as President of the Council I rejoice in an
interruption that has given pause to our haste and saved us from
ill-considered expressions of opinion. The Gove'nuh has, I confess,
surprised me. Befo' examining the legal aspect of our case I will ask
the Gove'nuh if he is familiar with the sundry statutes applicable."
"I think so," Ballard replied, pleasantly.
"I had supposed," continued the President of the Council--"nay, I had
congratulated myself that our weightiuh tasks of law-making and so fo'th
were consummated yesterday, our thirty-ninth day, and that our friendly
game of last night would be, as it were, the finis that crowned with
pleashuh the work of a session memorable for its harmony."
This was not wholly accurate, but near enough. The Governor had vetoed
several bills, but Price's Left Wing had had much more than the required
two-thirds vote of both Houses to make these bills laws over the
Governor's head. This may be called harmony in a manner. Gilet now went
on to say that any doubts which the Governor entertained concerning the
legality of his paying any salaries could easily be settled without
entering upon discussion. Discussion at such a juncture could not but
tend towards informality. The President of the Council could well
remember most unfortunate discussions in Missouri between the years 1856
and 1860, in some of which he had had the honor to take part--_minima
pars_, gentlemen! Here he digressed elegantly upon civil dissensions,
and Ballard, listening to him and marking the slow, sure progress of the
hour, told himself that never before had Gilet's oratory seemed more
welcome or less lengthy. A plan had come to him, the orator next
announced, a way out of the present dilemma, simple and regular in
every aspect. Let some gentleman present now kindly draft a bill setting
forth in its preamble the acts of Congress providing for the
Legislature's compensation, and let this bill in conclusion provide that
all members immediately receive the full amount due for their services.
At noon both Houses would convene; they would push back the clock, and
pass this bill before the term of their session should expire.
"Then, Gove'nuh," said Gilet, "you can amply vindicate yo'self by a
veto, which, together with our votes on reconsideration of yoh
objections, will be reco'ded in the journal of our proceedings, and
copies transmitted to Washington within thirty days as required by law.
Thus, suh, will you become absolved from all responsibility."
The orator's face, while he explained this simple and regular way out of
the dilemma, beamed with acumen and statesmanship. Here they would make
a law, and the Governor must obey the law!
Nothing could have been more to Ballard's mind as he calculated the
fleeting minutes than this peaceful, pompous farce. "Draw your bill,
gentlemen," he said. "I would not object if I could."
The Statutes of the United States were procured from among the pistols
and opened at the proper page. Gascon Claiborne, upon another sheet of
paper headed "Territory of Idaho, Council Chamber," set about
formulating some phrases which began "Whereas," and Gratiot des Peres
read aloud to him from the statutes. Ballard conversed apart with
Hewley; in fact, there was much conversing aside.
"'Third March, 1863, c. 117, s. 8, v. 12, p. 811,'" dictated Des Peres.
"Skip the chaptuhs and sections," said Claiborne. "We only require the
date."
"'Third March, 1863. The sessions of the Legislative Assemblies of the
several Territories of the United States shall be limited to forty days'
duration.'"
"Wise provision that," whispered Ballard. "No telling how long a poker
game might last."
But Hewley could not take anything in this spirit. "Genuine business was
not got through till yesterday," he said.
"'The members of each branch of the Legislature,'" read Des Peres,
"'shall receive a compensation of six dollars per day during the
sessions herein provided for, and they shall receive such mileage as now
provided by law: _Provided_, That the President of the Council and the
Speaker of the House of Representatives shall each receive a
compensation of ten dollars a day.'"