IX

Under the midnight sky, misty pale and dusted with glittering stars, the

little shelter tents of Landor's command shone in white rows. The

campfires were dying; the herd, under guard, was turned out half a mile

or more away on a low mesa, where there was scant grazing; and the men,

come that afternoon into camp, were sleeping heavily, after a march of

some forty miles,--all save the sentry, who marched up and down,

glancing from time to time at the moving shadows of the herd, or taking

a sight along his carbine at some lank coyote scudding across the open.

But presently he saw, coming from down the road, two larger bodies,

which showed themselves soon, in the light of the stars against the

sands, to be a pair of horsemen and evidently no Apaches. He watched

them. They rode straight up to the camp and answered his challenge. They

wished, they said, to speak to the officer in command.

The sentry was of the opinion that it was an unseemly hour to arouse a

man who had marched all day, but it was not for him to argue. He walked

deliberately, very deliberately indeed, that the citizens might be

impressed, over to Landor's tent and awoke him. "There's two citizens

here, sir, asking to see you, sir." His tone plainly disclaimed any

part in the affair.

Landor came out, putting on his blouse, and went over to the horsemen.

One of them dismounted and raised his hat.

"My name, sir, is Foster."

Landor expressed pleasure, without loss of words.

"I represent, sir, the citizens of San Tomaso."

"Yes?" said Landor. He knew the citizens of the district, and attached

no particular sacredness to the person of their envoy.

"They have expressed the desire that I should convey to you, Colonel--"

"I am Captain--Captain Landor."

"Captain Landor," he corrected urbanely, "pleased to meet you, sir. They

have expressed the desire that I should convey to you, sir, their wish

to accompany you in the search for hostile Apaches."

That was evidently how it was to go into the papers. The officer knew it

well enough, but he explained with due solemnity that he was acting

under instructions, and was not to follow Indians into the hills. "I am

only to camp here to protect the citizens of the valley against possible

raids."

The civilian protested. "But there is a big company of us, sir, thirty

or thirty-five, who can put you on the trail of a large band."

Landor explained again, with greater detail, vainly trying to impress

the nature of a military order on the civilian brain. "It would not do

for me to disobey my instructions. And besides there are several

officers who are to follow trails, out with larger commands. I have no

pack-train, and I can't."

It did not seem to strike the representative of the citizens of San

Tomaso that that was much of an argument. He continued to urge.

"Of course," said the officer, "I understand that the hostiles are not

in the immediate vicinity?"

"Well, not in the immediate vicinity," he admitted. "No; but they passed

along the foot-hills, and stole some stock, an' killed three men no

later than this evening."

"Say we were to get off at sun-up, then," objected Landor, "they would

even in that way have twelve hours' start of us."

"Yes, sir. But they ain't likely to travel fast. They'll think

themselves safe enough up there in the mountains. We could easy overtake

them, being as we wouldn't be hampered with drove stock. They stole

about fifty head, an' we could most likely get it back if we started at

once. It is the wish of the citizens of San Tomaso, ain't it?" He turned

to the man who had remained mounted, and who had not opened his mouth.

The man nodded.

"I couldn't follow more than two days," Landor expostulated hopelessly.

"As I tell you, I've no pack-train. The men would have to carry their

rations in their saddle pockets."

Foster hastened to assure him that two days would easily do it. "We know

the country round here, Colonel, know it better than the hostiles

themselves; and a big party of us volunteers to put you on the trail and

bring you to them. You can't hardly refuse, seein' as you say you are

here to protect us, and this is the protection we ask, to get back the

stock we've lost."

Landor stood considering and pulling at his mustache, as his way was.

Then he turned on his heel and went back to the tent for Brewster. He

explained the matter to him. "I tell Mr. Foster," he said, "just what

risk I would take if I acted contrary to orders, but the force of my

argument doesn't seem to strike him. If any harm were to come to the

citizens around here, I'd be responsible."

"You won't, I don't guess, if it was the citizens' own wish," insisted

the indomitable one. "You wouldn't be gone more than two days at the

outside. And a big party of us will go with you."

"How many did you say?" he wanted to know, having the laudable intention

of committing the man before Brewster.

And Foster answered him that there would be thirty or forty.

Was he quite certain that the trail was of hostiles, and not of cow-boys

or of other troops?

"Certain, dead sure. It's a band of Apaches that went across the river.

Why, half a dozen seen them."

Landor consulted with his lieutenant. "Very well," he said in the end,

"I'll go. I take serious risks, but I understand it to be the wish of

the citizens hereabouts." Their envoy assured him that it most

certainly was, and became profuse in acknowledgments; so that Landor

shut him off. He had come many miles that day and must be on the march

again at dawn, and wanted what sleep he could get. "When and where will

you meet me?" he demanded with the curtness of the military, so

offensive to the undisciplined.

"At eight o'clock, sir," he answered resentfully, "in front of the

dry-goods store on the main street. If that is convenient for your men."

"That will do," said Landor. "See there is no delay," and he wheeled

about and went back to his tent with Brewster.

The citizens rode off.

"They won't be ready. No use making haste, Captain," Cairness suggested

at daybreak, as Landor hurried the breakfast and saddling. They knew

that the chances were ten to one that it would be a wild goose chase,

and the captain already repented him. But at seven the men were mounted,

with two days' rations in their saddle bags, and trotting across the

flat in the fragrance of the yet unheated day, to the settlement of San

Tomaso.

Two aimless citizens lounged on their horses, rapt in argument and the

heavy labor of chewing--so much so that they barely took notice of the

troops.

Landor rode up to them and made inquiries for Foster.

"Foster?" one drawled, "he'll be along presently, I reckon."

Landor went back to his command and waited. Another man rode up and

joined the two. Ten minutes passed, and the troops grew restless.

Landor went forward again. "Can you, gentlemen, tell me," he demanded a

trifle wrathfully, "where I can find Mr. Foster?" They reckoned, after

deliberation, that he might be in Bob's saloon. Which might Bob's saloon

be? The man pointed, hooking his thumb over his shoulder, and went on

with his conversation and his quid. A dozen or more loafers, chiefly

Mexicans, had congregated in front of the dry-goods store.

Landor rode over to Bob's place, and giving his horse to the trumpeter,

strode in. There were eight men around the bar, all in campaign outfit,

and all in various stages of intoxication. Foster was effusive. He was

glad to see the general. General Landor, these were the gentlemen who

had volunteered to assist Uncle Sam. He presented them singly, and

invited Landor to drink. The refusal was both curt and ungracious. "If

we are to overtake the hostiles, we have got to start at once," he

suggested.

But it was full two hours, in the end, before they did start. Flasks had

to be replenished, farewell drinks taken, wives and families parted

from, the last behests made, of those going upon an errand of death.

Citizens burning with ardor to protect their hearths and stock were

routed out of saloons and dance halls, only to slip away again upon one

pretext or another.

The sun was now high and blazing down into the one street of the mud

settlement. The enlisted men were angry that Landor, fearing they, too,

would be led astray into dives, would not dismount them. Sitting still

in the full sun, when even in the shade the mercury is many degrees

above the hundreds, is not calculated to improve the disposition. But at

length the volunteers were herded together. The thirty-five promised had

dwindled to eight, and Foster was not of the number. He came lurching up

at the last moment to explain that he would be unable to go. His wife

was in hysterics, he said.

So the troops and the volunteers rode away without him, and a few miles

off, among the foot-hills, struck the trail. Here Landor, giving ear to

the advice of the citizens, found himself whirled around in a very

torrent of conflicting opinions. No two agreed. The liquor had made them

ugly. He dismounted the command for rest, and waited, filled with great

wrath.

"I ought to have known better than to come at all," he told Brewster, as

they stood beside their horses; "it is always like this."

Brewster nodded. He had seen the same thing himself. The territorial

citizen was a known quantity to both of them.

Cairness came up. "Are we going into camp, Captain?" he wanted to know,

"or are those fellows going to follow the trail?"

Landor took his arm from the saddle and stood upright, determinedly. "We

are going to stop this mob business, that's what we are going to do," he

said, and he went forward and joined in a discussion that was upon the

verge of six-shooters. He set forth in measured tones, and words that

reverberated with the restrained indignation behind them, that he had

come upon the assurance that he was to strike Indians, that his men had

but two days' rations in their saddle bags, and that he was acting upon

his own responsibility, practically in disobedience of orders. If the

Indians were to be hit, it must be done in a hurry, and he must get back

to the settlements. He held up his hands to check a flood of protests

and explanations. "There has got to be a head to this," his

drill-trained voice rang out, "and I propose to be that head. My orders

have got to be obeyed."

There was a murmur. They had elected a captain of their own; they were

Indian fighters of experience themselves.

Landor suggested his own experience of close on two decades, and further

that he was going to command the whole outfit, or going to go back and

drop the thing right there. They assented to the first alternative, with

exceedingly bad grace, and with worse grace took the place of advance

guard he detailed them to, four hundred yards ahead. "You know the

country. You are my guides, and you say you are going to lead me to the

Indians. Now do it." There was nothing conciliating in his speech,

whatever, and he sat on his horse, pointing them to their positions with

arm outstretched, and the frown of an offended Jove. When they had taken

it, grumbling, the column moved.

"It's only a small trail, anyway," Cairness informed them as a result

of a minute examination he had made, walking round and leading his

bronco, bending double over the signs, "just some raiding party of

twelve or fifteen bucks. Shot out from the main body and ran into the

settlements to steal stock probably."