RAY TO THE FRONT.
It has been said that Major Stannard told his wife that he proposed
going down to camp, hunting up Mr. Wilkins, and getting from him
"flat-footed" the authority he had for his insinuations at Mr. Ray's
expense the day before the regiment marched for the Black Hills. The
major went as he proposed; but at the very moment he reached camp the
object of his search was unpacking Mrs. Wilkins's trunks up in the
garrison. Stannard left word with the officer of the day that he wanted
to see Mr. Wilkins on important business right after "retreat" (sunset)
roll-call; and Wilkins was quick to divine that the major had already
heard of his morning's mischief at the store. He stood in awe of the
battalion commander, and knew well that when it came to a face to face
encounter with him there could be no dodging. He must swallow his words
or give his authority. Wilkins, therefore, had important business of his
own or his able wife's devising which kept him from going to camp during
the evening, and Stannard, being only the major, could not order him
thither in the face of the colonel's permission to be absent. He trudged
back across the prairie in no amiable mood, therefore, and swore in
stalwart Anglo-Saxon to Captain Merrill that he would bring Wilkins to
the scratch if he had to go to his quarters to do it. They looked in at
the store, and Wilkins wasn't there, so together they walked up the row
until they came to the cottage into which the lares and penates of the
Wilkins family had so recently been carried, and Mrs. Wilkins herself
met them at the door. She was afraid of nobody, and had doubtless been
requested (he never directed) by her husband to see who was knocking.
Now Mrs. Wilkins was as fond of Major Stannard as her husband was afraid
of him. She liked his blunt, sturdy, unaffected ways, and many a time
and oft she had held him up to her submissive lord as the sort of
soldier he ought to be. She knew nothing of the affair at the store as
yet, and Wilkins was afraid to tell her. With her keen insight she had
long since discovered that her husband's associates and intimates in the
regiment were not the strong or the good men, and she had warned him at
Sandy that whatever he might have against such men as Truscott or Ray,
he had better stamp it out and seek to re-establish himself in their
good opinion. Such men as Gleason, with whom he consorted, would soon
get him into trouble. Poor Wilkins heard the major's blunt salutation at
the door and his wife's cordial invitation to walk in; but the major
declined with thanks. "Ask Mr. Wilkins to come out here on the piazza,
please; I want to see him on business," was his request; and when Mrs.
Wilkins came puffing up-stairs supplementing the message with a "Hurry
now; the major isn't the man for you to keep waiting," the hapless
veteran wished himself anywhere out of Wyoming; but down he went with
rather a hang-dog look. Stannard had met him with unexpected kindness of
manner. "I'm worried about the story told of Ray, Mr. Wilkins, and I've
come to get the authority from you. Of course you must have had
something to base such statements upon," and being fairly cornered,
Wilkins said his informant was Gleason. Being asked to show the letter,
Wilkins declared that he had burned it, and would never have alluded to
it but for Blake's manner, which he declared had goaded him into the
remarks. Then he told Stannard that Gleason wrote in so many words that
Ray was with Rallston night and day, and intimated that the latter kept
him at cards and wine most of the time, and that if some scandal did not
result when it came to paying for the horses he would be surprised.
Still, he could not quote the language; but he gave his impressions.
Stannard had called Merrill to witness the statement; then, giving
Wilkins injunctions to say nothing more to anybody on the subject, and
pledging Merrill to reticence, he had gone home, written brief and
hurried letters to Ray and to Gleason, told his wife that he had heard
the stories, and that until Ray had a chance to explain would regard
them as baseless rumors, or at the worst as exaggerations, for which
Gleason was responsible; then he had slept the sleep of the just until
the corporal of the guard came banging at the door at four A.M. to say
the reveille had sounded out in camp. Two hours later he had jogged away
at the head of his battalion.
Mr. Gleason's complacent acceptance of her reluctant invitation, and his
evident expectation of more to come, were matters that therefore annoyed
Mrs. Stannard not a little. She knew well that her husband had written
him an angry letter, demanding that he either withdraw or substantiate
the allegations he had made at the expense of Mr. Ray, but she had not
been told what those allegations were. She felt certain that the letter
had reached Mr. Gleason, for it was sent to the care of the commanding
officer at Hays, yet here was the lieutenant himself, beaming with
effusive cordiality. She felt more than certain that were "Luce" at the
post Mr. Gleason would by no means be seeking to make himself at home in
his quarters, but Luce with the eight companies of the --th was out of
reach. Gleason was striving to make himself at home with her and her
guests, and, as far as the latter were concerned, he had the sanction
and apparent approval of Captain Truscott, whose name he incessantly
quoted, as though the terms of intimacy between them were already
established beyond peradventure.
"Truscott paid me one of the highest compliments I ever remember having
received," said Mr. Gleason to the three ladies at dinner, and Mr.
Gleason was a man who was always receiving compliments of one kind or
another, if one could accept his statements. "He said that he had never
seen the troop look so well as when I turned it over to him at Wallace."
Now, as he had arrived at Wallace on the same train with the Truscotts,
and did not "turn over" anything connected with the troop but the
property returns, anybody acquainted with such matters would have known
that Truscott's commendation, if bestowed at all, was probably given to
the junior lieutenant, who had put the troop in handsome shape during
the absence of Mr. Gleason on the horse board; but what Gleason aimed at
was to make an impression on Miss Sanford's mind, since she could not be
expected to know the intricacies of such matters. Mrs. Stannard would
have been glad to correct the impression, but could not in courtesy to
her guests, and so she remained silent. She meant, however, to
discourage his visits in future, but he was too old a practitioner for
her simple methods. She had slipped into the kitchen to see how nice a
breakfast was being prepared for her guests the following morning, and
in that brief absence he had appeared at the open door-way to urge the
ladies to come out and see guard mounting. They were just down; the air
was delicious out on the piazza, the band was inspiring; so what more
natural than that Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford should make their first
appearance that morning escorted by the obnoxious Gleason? When Mrs.
Stannard came back from the kitchen they were all on the piazza, and
others were strolling up the walk to join them. After the spirited
little parade was over and the infantry officers had to go to the
presence of their commander, Gleason lingered. He had no duties as yet,
and--how could she avoid it, ladies?--Mrs. Stannard had to ask him if he
had breakfasted when the maid came to announce that breakfast was
served. He had; but it was easy for Gleason to say that he had merely
sipped a cup of coffee and to insure the invitation he intended to
extract. After breakfast she had her household duties to attend to, Mrs.
Truscott had unpacking and other matters to look after. Miss Sanford
felt that some one ought to entertain their late escort, and the duty
fell to her. Garrison people who called that morning were edified by
finding Mr. Gleason and Miss Sanford _tête-à-tête_ in the parlor despite
Mrs. Stannard's efforts. Mrs. Turner was promptly on hand, so were other
ladies, and that they made certain inferences at the time, and compared
notes later in the day, is, perhaps, supererogation to state.
On one pretext or another there was not an hour during that morning in
which Mr. Gleason failed to appear at Major Stannard's quarters, and by
two P.M., at which hour there was a gathering at the adjutant's office
to await the distribution of the mail, it is not to be wondered at that
one of Colonel Whaling's officers remarked to another that the cavalry
seemed to have the inside track, if there was to be any race for the
Jersey belle, and that others looked knowing when Gleason appeared to
inquire if any letters had come for the ladies at Major Stannard's.
There was no necessity whatever for his going, Mrs. Stannard protested.
The orderly would bring the mail in five minutes if anything had come;
but Gleason said that the orderly would have to stop in two or three
houses before he got there, and he knew Mrs. Truscott was
impatient,--and so she was. In a minute he was back with letters for all
three, but Miss Sanford's was a mere note in reply to an order she had
sent East, and while Mrs. Stannard and Mrs. Truscott retired to read the
long letters that had come from their respective lords, once more Miss
Sanford found herself entertaining the assiduous Gleason. She was
beginning to think army life distasteful.
Determined to break up this monopoly, the major's wife came speedily
again to the parlor. Something she had read in her husband's letter had
fired her with resentment against Gleason and nerved her to resolute
measures. "Not a word of reply have I had from Ray," wrote Stannard,
"nor has Gleason yet answered, though I know the letter was delivered to
him. In conversation with Billings last night he admitted that he, too,
had heard that Ray had been playing fast and loose at Kansas City, and
when I asked him how it was brought to him, he replied that Wayne told
him, and Wayne had a letter from Gleason. I wish Billings and Ray could
have seen more of each other this spring; there is some feeling between
them which I cannot fathom and do not understand. It will disappear when
Ray joins us, for Billings cannot help admiring his energy and
usefulness in actual campaign. As yet nothing of great interest has
occurred, but everything points to wild excitement at the reservations.
We are camping to-night at the Cardinal's Chair up on the Niobrara, and
march northward to-morrow by way of Old Woman Fork to the Mini Pusa.
General Sheridan's orders are to hide in the valley of the South
Cheyenne, and keep a sharp watch on the trails crossing northwestward,
and be ready to strike any and all parties of hostiles going up from the
reservations on White River. Of course here will be sharp work. We have
had two rushes already, for the Sioux have war-parties out robbing stock
and running off horses from far south of the Platte, and a big band
swept down the Chug Water within forty-five miles of you the very day we
left Lodge Pole. 'K' went forward in pursuit, but they had too big a
start. This letter goes by courier to Laramie to-night. Expect nothing
more now for a week, as even the Black Hills stages have quit running.
The Indians have driven off every white man between the Platte and the
Yellowstone except those in the Black Hills settlements, and they are
practically isolated. It was rumored that Webb and Truscott would be
ordered forward to join us, and I suppose Buxton and Ray will take that
opportunity of joining their companies. Should Mr. Gleason stay any time
near Russell he will doubtless be inclined to cultivate the ladies from
Wallace,--Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford especially. If I could have
seen Truscott or foreseen the plan, it would have been easy to prevent
it. As I could not do either, you must give him few opportunities of
visiting them at our house. They will be in their own, though, by the
time he comes."
They were not, however, as we have seen. The major had not contemplated
the possibility of Gleason's taking a "ten days' delay" before reporting
for duty, and so having ample time in which to ingratiate himself with
the ladies. What he would have said in his own vigorous English could he
have seen the lieutenant leaning over Miss Sanford's shoulder as she sat
at the table once more looking through the cavalry album, will not bear
recording in these pages. As Mrs. Stannard herself glanced in from the
hall-way she more than wished that Luce were home if only to hear her
lion growl. She thought anxiously of him and of the situation of affairs
in the Indian country only a hundred miles to the north. She dreaded to
tell Mrs. Truscott of the regiment's prospects for immediate action,
but she determined to try some expedient to rid Miss Sanford and the
house of the presence of Mr. Gleason. Her air was brisk and determined,
therefore, as she entered the parlor.
"The major writes me from the Niobrara crossing that the regiment has
had some sharp chasing to do already, and that they will be across the
trails in two days, when they will certainly have fighting," she said,
looking intently at Mr. Gleason. "What news do you get?"
"Well, my mail has all gone on to Wallace, you see, Mrs. Stannard,"
explained he, unwilling to admit in the presence of the ladies that
nobody in the regiment cared enough for him to write. "It will all be up
to-morrow or next day, I presume, and by that time the troops will be
here, and I'll be myself again. The real cavalryman, Miss Sanford, is
like a fish out of water if separated more than a day from his horse. I
long to be in saddle again," he added, with a complacent glance at the
tall, well-proportioned figure reflected in the mirror. Gleason prided
himself, and not without reason, on his manly build, and was incessantly
finding some means of calling attention to it.
"If the major's views are correct, you will have abundant cavalry duty
this summer, Mr. Gleason," said Mrs. Stannard, "and I was about to ask
you if you heard nothing at the office,--if none of the garrison
officers had letters or news from the front." She hoped he would offer
to go and inquire in person, as he had gone for the mail; but Gleason
preferred to have the officers suppose that he was in full possession of
news which would not be sent to them. Going for the ladies' letters
implied certain authority from them,--certain intimacy in the household.
Going to inquire for news, on the contrary, implied lack of information,
and it was his rôle to play that the --th kept him fully posted. His
reply was therefore brief, and he quickly changed the subject.
"There was no news that I heard of, Mrs. Stannard, but I will go and see
Colonel Whaling after he has had time to read all his mail. Miss Sanford
was just asking me something about Mr. Stryker,--she was admiring his
photograph."
"Bring the album out on the piazza. It is lovely and bright there now,
and the wind is not blowing, for a wonder. I think we will all be better
for fresh air, and Mrs. Truscott will be down in a moment." Mrs.
Stannard spoke decidedly, and he had no course but to obey, even though
he did not see the grateful look in Miss Sanford's eyes. He much
preferred the confidential flavor which was possessed by a parlor
interview, but there was no help for it. Following the lead of his
hostess, he stepped out upon the piazza just as Mrs. Truscott, bright,
animated, and happy, came fluttering down the stairs waving the
captain's letter. Miss Sanford glanced up at her bonny face, and smiled
sympathetically.
"No need to ask you is all well, Gracie."
"No, indeed! Jack writes that they will be in camp close beside us
to-morrow morning. Oh, listen! There's the band, and that is the very
quickstep he used to love so much at the Point." And, fairly dancing in
her happiness, she threw her arm around Marion's waist and together they
appeared at the threshold,--a lovely picture, as the cap-doffing group
of officers thought to a man. Half a dozen of these gentry were lolling
at the gate; the broad walk was already alive with graceful forms in
summer dresses, with playful children and sedate nurse-maids trundling
the inevitable baby-carriage. The band had just taken possession of its
circular stand out on the parade; a few carriages and buggies had driven
out from town. It was a lovely June Saturday afternoon,--the hebdomadal
half holiday of the military bailiwick,--and the dingy brown frontier
fort looked merry as sunshine, music, and sweet faces could make it.
Seeing the ladies upon the piazza, there was a general movement among
the officers on the walk indicative of a desire to join the party, and
Mr. Gleason gritted his teeth and went for more chairs. Mrs. Turner had
appeared on her own gallery just before, possibly with the intention of
starting a rival levee, and one or two youthful moths were fluttering
about her candle already. She was not averse to a flirtation,
ordinarily, but it did not look well to see her sitting with only one or
two of the infantry subalterns when Mrs. Stannard's piazza was filled.
She wisely determined to join the majority; smilingly transferred
herself and escort thither, and was as smilingly welcomed. There must
have been a dozen in the group--officers and ladies--when the commanding
officer's orderly entered the gate, saluted Mr. Gleason, and said,--
"Colonel Whaling's compliments, sir, and could you tell him when
Lieutenant Ray will be here?"
The ladies looked up in surprise. The officers--all of whom remembered
the name in connection with what had been said by Messrs. Crane,
Wilkins, and Gleason himself--listened for his reply. Gleason was quick
to note the silence and to divine its cause.
"Give my compliments to the colonel, and say that I do not know. I have
not seen or heard--rather, I have not seen Mr. Ray since leaving Kansas
City," he replied.
For a moment no one spoke. Then, as the orderly walked away, Mrs.
Stannard, coloring slightly, turned full upon the lieutenant. "Mr.
Gleason, it seems strange that you should know nothing of Mr. Ray's
movements. You are generally well informed, and the major writes me how
pleasantly they are looking forward to Ray's coming. You know that out
in the regiment they expect him by 'pony express,'" she laughingly said,
for the benefit of her silent auditors.
Gleason well divined her object. It was to convey to the garrison
officers that Ray was popular among his comrades at the front, however
he might be regarded by those at the rear. He had already committed
himself in presence of several of those now in the party, and he
answered,--
"I'm afraid some people will be disappointed, then. To begin with, there
is no way of his reaching the regiment until Truscott and Webb go up
with their companies. He could get no farther than Laramie by stage even
were he here to try; but he isn't here,--and he isn't likely to be,
either."
"Will you tell me why?" asked Mrs. Stannard, paling now, but looking
fixedly at him with a gleam in her blue eyes that made him wince.
"Well, I'd rather not go into particulars," he muttered, looking
uneasily around.
"Is it illness, Mr. Gleason?"
"No; I don't know that it is."
"Then, for one, I feel confident that he will be here in abundant time
to go by first opportunity," she said, with quiet meaning.
"Who may this swell be?" languidly remarked one of the officers, looking
down the road towards the gate. All eyes followed his in an instant.
Speeding at easy lope upon a spirited sorrel a horseman came jauntily up
the row. The erect carriage, the perfect seat, the ease and grace with
which his lithe form swayed with every motion of his steed, all present
could see at a glance. Mrs. Stannard rose quickly to her feet; her gaze
becoming eager, then joyous.
"Look!" she almost cried. "It's Mr. Ray himself!"
In another minute, throwing himself lightly from the saddle, and tossing
the reins to a statuesque orderly, the horseman came beaming through the
gate, and Mrs. Stannard, to Miss Sanford's mingled amaze and
approbation, was warmly grasping both his hands in hers. Mrs. Truscott,
blushing brightly and showing welcome and pleasure in her lovely eyes,
but with the reserve of younger wifehood, had held forth one little
hand. Then she heard the voluble gush with which Mrs. Turner
precipitated herself upon him, and, while he remained captive--as he had
to--in that fair matron's hands, laughingly answering her thronging
questions, Marion Sanford had her first look at the young officer who
had been the subject of such varying report. First impressions are ever
strong, and what she saw was this: a lithe, deep-chested,
square-shouldered young fellow, with nerve and spring in every motion,
standing bare-headed before them with the sunlight dancing on his
close-cropped hair and shapely head. His eyes were dark, and heavily
shaded with thick brows and long curling lashes, but the eyes brightened
with every laughing word,--were full of life and health and
straightforwardness and fun. She could not but note how clear and brave
and wide-open they were, despite the little wrinkles gathered at the
corners and a faint shading underneath. His forehead, what could be seen
of it when he tossed aside the dark, wavy "bang" that fell almost as low
as her own, was white and smooth, but temples, cheeks, the smooth-shaven
jaws, and the round, powerful throat were bronzed and tanned by sun and
wind, and his white teeth gleamed all the whiter through the shading of
the thick, curling, dark moustache, and the lips that laughed so merrily
were soft and pink as any woman's might be; at least they were when he
bowed and smiled and spoke her name when introduced to her, and when he
nodded companionably to the bowing group of officers, to whom Mrs.
Stannard presented him with marked pride, "Mr. Ray--of Ours," but how,
for a second, his eye flashed and how rigid a spasm crossed his lips
when Gleason's name was mentioned. To him he merely nodded, and
instantly turned his back. All this and more Miss Sanford noted by that
electric process which was known to women long before lightning was
photographed, and enabled the sex to see in a quarter-second intricate
details of feminine costume that it would take the nimblest tongue ten
minutes to describe. She noticed his dress, so unlike the precise attire
of his comrades, who wore, to the uttermost detail, the regulation
uniform. He had tossed a broad-brimmed, light-colored scouting hat upon
the little grass plat as he entered, and now stood before them in the
field rig he so well adorned. A dark-blue, double-breasted,
broad-collared flannel shirt, tucked in at the waist in snugly-fitting
breeches of Indian-tanned buckskin, while Sioux leggings encased his
legs from knee to ankle, and his feet were shod substantially in
alligator-skin. Mexican spurs were at his heels; a broad leather belt
bristling with cartridges, and supporting knife and revolver, hung at
his waist; a red silk handkerchief was loosely knotted at his throat,
and soft brown gauntlets covered his hands until they were discarded as
he greeted them. If ever man looked the picture of elastic health and
vigor it was Mr. Ray. This, then, was something like the cavalry life of
which she had heard so much. Marion Sanford, despite Eastern education
and refinement, was so unconventional as to find something more
attractive in Mr. Ray in this same field rig than in Mr. Gleason in
faultlessly accurate uniform.
"Why, Mr. Ray, how very well you look!" was Mrs. Turner's exclamation,
"and somebody said you had been ill."
"I? No indeed! I never felt better in my life."
"But where have you been? When did you come? Why didn't you write?" were
some among the countless questions thrust upon him.
"I had a few days' delay, you know; came by way of Omaha to see my
sister; just arrived at one to-day; left my trunks with the
quartermaster at the depot; got into field rig in fifteen minutes;
packed my saddle-bags and slung them on Dandy, who has been waiting for
me ever since the regiment marched; galloped out here to say good-by to
you, and in half an hour I'll be off for Laramie."
"Why, _Mr._ Ray! What can be the hurry? Why start this evening?"
"Why not?" he laughed. "Dandy and I can reach the Chug and put up with
old Phillipse to-night, and gallop on to Laramie to-morrow. Once there,
it won't take me long to find my way out to the regiment."
"Why, the whole country is full of Indians!" expostulated Mrs. Stannard.
"The major writes in this very letter that no one ventures north of the
Platte."
"How did the letter come in, then? and how is communication kept up?"
asked the lieutenant, showing his white teeth in his amusement.
"Oh! couriers, of course; but they are half-breeds, and have lived all
their life in that country."
"Well, I can wriggle through if they can. One thing is certain, it won't
be for lack of trying. So, whatever you may have to send to the major,
get ready; the lightning express leaves at 4.30. I must go and report my
movements to the commanding officer, and then will come back to you. Is
the adjutant here?" he asked, looking around at the party of infantrymen
who were standing waiting for a chance to excuse themselves, and leave
the ladies to the undisputed possession of their evident favorite. Mr.
Warner bowed:
"At your service, Mr. Ray."
"Will you come and present me to the colonel? I will be back in ten
minutes, Mrs. Stannard; and, Mrs. Truscott, remember it is over a year
since I saw you last,--and you gave me good luck the last time I went
out scouting." With that, and a general bow by way of parting courtesy,
Mr. Ray took himself and the post adjutant off. For a moment there was
silence. Everybody gazed after him except Gleason.
"Isn't that just too characteristic of Mr. Ray for anything?" exclaimed
Mrs. Turner. "I wonder if any other officer would be in such a hurry to
risk his scalp in chasing the regiment? _You_ wouldn't, would you, Mr.
Gleason?" she added, with the deliberate and mischievous impertinence
she knew would sting, and meant should sting, and felt serenely
confident that her victim could not resent. He flushed hotly:
"My duties are with my troop, Mrs. Turner, and Mr. Ray's with his. When
my troop goes I go with it. When his went--he didn't. That's all there
is to it."
"But he couldn't go, Mr. Gleason, as you well know," replied Mrs.
Turner; and evidently Mrs. Stannard, too, was eager to ask him what he
had to say _now_ about Mr. Ray's staying behind. To tell the truth, he
was more dismayed by Ray's appearance than he dare admit even to
himself. He was startled. He had grave reason for not wanting to meet
him again, and as the officers were scattering he seized a pretext,
called to one of them that he wished to speak with him a moment, and
hurried away. When Ray returned from the colonel's quarters, he had the
field to himself, and that they might have him--their regimental
possession--to themselves, Mrs. Stannard begged the younger ladies to
usher him into the parlor, where they could be secure against
interruption until he had to start.
Gleason's business with his infantry friend was of slight moment,
apparently, as he speedily left him and wended his way to the quarters
of the commanding officer. Old Colonel Whaling was just coming forth,
and they met at the gate.
"You sent me an inquiry a few moments ago, sir, which I could not answer
at the time," said the lieutenant, in his blandest manner. "I see that
Mr. Ray has arrived to speak for himself. May I ask if he was wanted for
anything especial?" And Gleason looked very closely into the grizzled
features of the commandant.
"Some letters for him had been sent with my mail--and a telegram. I
inferred that he must be coming, and thought you might know. Rather a
spirited young fellow he seems to be. I was quite startled at his notion
of riding alone in search of the regiment. How soon does he start? I see
his horse there yet."
"He spoke of going in a few moments, sir. You see we have been so much
accustomed to this sort of thing in Arizona that there is nothing
unusual in it to us. Still, I hardly expected Mr. Ray would be going--or
rather--there were some matters which he left unsettled that I supposed
would prevent his going. You didn't happen to notice where his letters
were from, I suppose?" asked the lieutenant, tentatively.
The colonel would have colored had he been younger, but his grizzled old
face had long since lost its capacity for blushing. He felt that it grew
hot, however, and Gleason's insinuation cut, as Gleason knew it would.
Old Whaling was morbidly inquisitive as to the correspondence of his
officers, and could rarely resist the temptation of studying postmarks,
seals, superscription, and general features of all letters that came
through his hands.
"Not--not especially," he stammered.
Gleason saw his advantage and pursued it. He spoke with all apparent
hesitancy and proper regret.
"I feared that he might have been recalled, or his going arrested by
orders from division headquarters, or from Fort Leavenworth. Some things
with regard to the purchase of one lot of horses, of which I
disapproved, were being looked into when I came away, and when----Well,
colonel, it is against the rule of our regiment, to talk to outsiders of
one another" ("Like--ahem!" was old Whaling's muttered comment as he
recalled what he had heard of Gleason's revelations at the store), "and
I would not allude to this but that, as commanding officer, you will be
sure to hear of it all. You see the principal dealer with whom we did
business is a brother-in-law of Mr. Ray's,--a fellow named
Rallston,--and some of his horses wouldn't pass muster anywhere;
but--well, Ray was with him day after day, and kept aloof from Buxton
and myself, and there was some money transaction between them, and
there's been a row. At the last moment Rallston came to me to complain
that he had been cheated, and what I'm afraid of is that Ray promised to
secure the acceptance of a lot of worthless horses by the board for some
five hundred dollars cash advanced him by Rallston. He was hot about it,
and swore he would bring matters to General Sheridan's notice instantly.
That is what made me so guarded in the reply I sent you. I owe you this
explanation, colonel, but trust you will consider it confidential."
Whaling looked greatly discomposed but unquestionably interested. He
eyed Gleason sharply and took it all in without a word.
"I thought some of his letters might have been from Leavenworth," said
Gleason, after a pause.
"One of them was,--that is, I think I saw the office mark,--but nothing
official has reached me on the matter. I'm sorry to hear it, very; for
both your colonel and Major Stannard spoke in highest terms of Mr. Ray
when they were here."
"Oh, Ray has done good service and all that sort of thing, but when a
fellow of his age gets going downhill with debts and drinking and
cards--well, you know how it has been in your own regiment, colonel."
"He don't look like a drinking man," said the colonel. "I never saw
clearer eyes or complexion in any fellow."
"Ye-es; he looks unusually well just now."
And just at that moment as they stood there talking of him, Mrs.
Stannard's door opened and he came forth, the three ladies following. He
did look well,--more than well, as he turned with extended hand to say
good-by. "Dandy," his lithe-limbed sorrel, pricked up his dainty,
pointed ears and whinnied eagerly as he heard his step on the piazza,
giving himself a shake that threatened the dislocation of his burden of
blankets, canteen, and saddle-bags. The ladies surrounded him at the
gate. Mrs. Stannard's kind blue eyes were moistening. How often had she
said good-by to the young fellows starting out as buoyantly as Ray
to-day, thinking as she did so of the mothers and sisters at home! How
often had it happened that they came back maimed, pallid, suffering,
or--not at all! She had always liked Ray, he was so frank, so loyal, so
true, and more than ever she liked now to show her friendship and regard
since he had been slandered. Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford stood with
arms entwined about each other's waist,--the sweetest and best of them
have that innate, inevitable coquetry,--and Mrs. Stannard bent forward
to rearrange the silken knot at his throat, giving it an approving pat
as she surveyed the improvement. Ray smiled his thanks.
"Do you remember the night at Sandy, Mrs. Truscott, the last scout we
started out on, and how you came to see us off and wish me good luck?"
"As well as though it were only yesterday," she answered.
"We _had_ good luck. It was one of the best scouts ever made from Sandy,
and the Apaches caught it heavily. It was a success all through except
our--our losing Tanner and Kerrigan. Jack's hit was to be envied."
She shuddered and drew closer to Miss Sanford's side.
"Oh, Mr. Ray! I cannot bear to think of that fight. I won't wish you
good luck again. You always expect it to mean unlimited meetings with
the Indians. I pray you may not see one."
"Then I appeal to you, Miss Sanford. Shall I confess that your name is
one I have envied for the last five years? No, don't be amazed! We
Kentuckians always associate it now with two of our grandest
horses,--Monarchist and Harry Bassett. Why, I'm going to ride the old
Sanford colors myself this summer. See,--the dark blue?" he laughed,
pointing to his breast.
"Then you should be among the first coming home," she answered,
brightly, "and that isn't your custom, I'm told."
"But in this case the whole regiment will be wearing the dark blue; so
there will be no distinction. I won't beg for a ribbon. It's bad luck. I
stole the tassel of Miss Pelham's fan in Arizona and wore it on the next
dash; we never saw an Indian, and she married a fellow who stayed at
home. All the same, Miss Sanford, if you hear of the --th doing anything
especially lively this summer, remember that one fellow in the crowd
rides his best to win for the sake of your colors. _Au revoir._ Come,
Dandy, you scamp; now for a scamper to the Chug."
He sprang lightly into saddle, waved his hat to them, then bent low, as
by sudden impulse, and held out his hand.
"God bless you, Mrs. Stannard!" he said; and looking at her in half
surprise, they saw her eyes were brimming with tears.
Another moment and he had turned Dandy's head to the west, and was
tripping up the road past the adjutant's office. They saw him raise his
gauntleted hand in salute to the post commander, and heard his voice
call out, ringingly, "Good-day, colonel." They saw that between him and
Mr. Gleason no sign of recognition passed, and they stood in silence
watching him until, turning out at the west gate, he struck a lope and
disappeared behind the band quarters, out on the open prairie.
When Mr. Gleason touched his cap to the colonel and started to rejoin
the ladies, they saw him coming. Nobody said a word, but the three
ladies re-entered the house, Mrs. Truscott last; but it was Mrs.
Stannard who turned back in the hall and shut the door. When Gleason
reached the front gate he concluded not to enter, but went on down the
row.