THE MYSTERIOUS NUGGET.
The wedding festivities were still in progress when Buffalo Bill
received a letter, by “pony express,” from Colonel Montrose, the
commander of Fort Cimarron, directing him to come to that station in
order to reconnoiter the district and keep an eye upon the Cheyenne
Indians who had threatened to break from their reservation.
“I’m sorry you must go, Cody,” said Latimer, when the message was
made known to him. “I had hoped that you might be able to linger here
a while, and enjoy a more welcome hospitality than was shown you when
you first came here.”
Thanking him for the offer, and reluctantly taking leave of his
friends, the great scout set forth on the journey, mounted on his
favorite horse which had been sent to him from Eldorado.
And while he rode away from these nuptial celebrations, another
romance, in which he was destined to play a part, was even now being
enacted on the wide, wide-swept plains.
In the doorway of a lonely sod house May Arlington, the daughter of a
government message bearer, stood shading her eyes from the glare of
the hot sun, and looking out across the level grassland.
Another horseman, not Buffalo Bill, was riding swiftly over the open
country before her and coming in her direction.
She knew he was not her father, who was absent far to the southward.
But she hoped he was her lover, big bluff Ben Stevens, the handsomest
and most athletic youth in the region of the country known as No
Man’s Land, lying along the border of the upper Panhandle of Texas.
“It isn’t Ben,” she said, “but one of the soldiers from Fort
Cimarron. I hope there isn’t any trouble with the Indians.”
A shade of anxiety passed over her face.
It had been a long time since there had been any Indian trouble in
that section of the Southwest. But people who live near Indians are
never sure when the red men will decide to take to the warpath; and
lately there had been murmurings and mutterings among the Cheyennes,
who were herded on their reservation not more than a day’s ride away.
May’s father had heard of it, and had spoken of it, but he did not
believe the Cheyennes would dare make trouble, when there were
soldiers no farther than Fort Cimarron.
The horseman, riding rapidly, drew near, with a quick clatter of
hoofs. He swung by the house, lifting his cap as he did so, and then
he flung out from him something that flashed white in the sun. It
fell at her feet as he dashed on, and she saw that it was a letter.
“From Ben!” she said. But when she tore the letter open hastily she
saw it was not from her lover. It contained but a few words, which
were not intelligible to her; and then she saw that there was
something else in the envelope--something round and hard, wrapped in
tissue paper.
When she pulled the tissue paper apart, there lay sparkling in her
brown palm a nugget of gold, with strange hieroglyphic markings on it.
She looked at the letter again, turning it over, and tried to find
some words on the tissue paper, but there were none. The writing--the
few words--which the letter contained, read:
“This is a sample of the stuff I told you about; and there’s more
where it came from, if it can be got.”
No name was signed.
She ran out from the little house, but the rider had passed on
swiftly, and now was far beyond the reach of her voice. Although she
shouted to him, and waved her hand, holding up the letter, he did not
turn in the saddle to look back, and he did not hear her.
Once more she tried to find the meaning of those words, and stared at
the shining bit of gold.
She knew it was gold; the weight and its appearance told her that;
and the hieroglyphics on it informed her it was not a natural gold
nugget.
She knew that a mistake had been made, but what it was all about she
could not guess.
“I’ll have to thank you, young man, for this gold, anyway,” she said,
looking at the retreating horseman with a smile. “And I’d just like
to know where more of these nuggets are!”
The mystery of the thing appealed to her imagination, and set it to
work.
There were no gold mines in that section, nor any hint that gold was
to be found. The country had long been the stamping ground of Indians
and the immense buffalo herds which served them for game. Some of the
buffaloes were left, but most of the Indians, after their last war
with the whites, had been placed on a reservation.
Since that time some cattlemen had begun to come in, though they were
few in numbers and still timid, for there was danger that the Indians
would raid the herds, in spite of the soldiers.
May Arlington’s father had come to that wild land for his health,
finding the dry, pure air good for his weak chest and threatened
lung trouble, and he had made a living, partly by keeping a few
cattle, but chiefly by some work he secured as message bearer for the
ranchmen, and for the government.
That was why he was away now, far to the south. He had gone to carry
a message to the Mexican border, for one of the ranchmen, the message
concerning the sale of cattle.
Hence, the girl had for some time led a lonely life, although she
had not found it lonely after she made the acquaintance of Ben
Stevens, the big-hearted fellow employed on one of the ranches.
Stevens visited her whenever he could, and he contrived to find
many opportunities. In addition, the girl had, in the little sod
stable back of the sod house, a lively horse, that could bear her on
with feet so fleet that she seemed to be flying; and as she loved
horseback riding she spent many happy hours on the back of her horse.
Yet to most girls, or young women, the loneliness of such a life
would have been intolerable, even if their fears, or their timidity,
had permitted them to live it.
May Arlington went into the sod house, and placing the round, shining
gold on the small table, she sat down and deliberately studied it,
trying to make some sense out of the strange marks on it.
When she could do nothing of the kind, she wrapped it again in the
tissue paper, and was about to put it away. But just then she again
heard hoofbeats; and she ran to the door.
“Ben!” she exclaimed joyfully.
It was Ben Stevens this time.
He rode up at a canter, and dropped from the saddle with the ease of
a circus athlete. Then he caught the girl in his arms.
“May!” he cried, and he kissed her.
“Ben!” she said, and nestled in his arms.
“You haven’t been here for two whole days,” she added reprovingly.
“Right you are, sweetheart,” he acknowledged; “but it wasn’t my
fault. Work is rushing at the ranch just now, and I couldn’t get
away. No one knows I’m here now. I was sent in this direction to hunt
for stray cattle.”
“I’ve got something to show you,” she cried. “And it’s the strangest
thing!”
He followed her into the house, permitting his horse to stand near
the door, where at once it set to work nibbling the grass that grew
there.
When she showed him the gold, and the letter, and the envelope, he
was ready to acknowledge that the manner in which the gold had come
to her was the strangest thing he had ever heard of.
“It’s the pure stuff, too!” he cried, as he hefted it. “Pure gold. I
wonder what those lines and marks on it mean?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.”
“You say the fellow was a soldier from the fort?” he asked.
“Well, he wasn’t dressed in regular uniform, but he had on a
soldier’s cap.”
“May have been one of the scouts,” he guessed. “And he just chucked
that at you, and flew on without a word.” He laughed again. “Gee!
I wish some fellow would chuck me a few of them! Say, that’s worth
twenty dollars, or more! Maybe a good deal more, on account of those
lines on it.”
He reread the singular letter.
“And there’s plenty more where it came from, it says. I wish I knew
where that is. I think I’ll have to trail the fellow who flung that
to you, and camp right on his trail until I discover where this gold
is.”
He stepped to the window at the back of the room, where the light was
strong, and held up the gold, looking at it there, and commenting.
Suddenly a trampling of hoofs was heard on the grass outside; then
the door was thrown open, and armed men rushed into the room.
“Surrender!” they cried to him.
The girl screamed, but Ben Stevens turned and coolly faced the
intruders, who were soldiers in uniform.
“What’s the trouble?” he said, and, though he spoke calmly, his
cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. He dropped his hand
carelessly toward the revolver that swung at his hip.
“Hands up!”
Guns came down, pointing at him, and there was a clicking of locks.
“Surrender!”
“But what’s the trouble?” he demanded. “What am I to surrender for?”
“Because you’re a thief, caught with the goods on him.”
The leader, who was also a young man, pointed to the gold nugget
shining in the fingers of Ben Stevens.
“Just how?” said Stevens, redder in the face than before. “Is this
your property?”
“No,” was the answer, “it isn’t; but it is the property of Colonel
Montrose, at Fort Cimarron; and it was given to him only a day or so
ago by Buffalo Bill.”
“By Buffalo Bill?”
“Just so; and I suppose you know how you came by it!”
“Perhaps _you_ do?”
“You stole it from the colonel’s quarters at the fort. We hit the
trail of the horse of the fellow who took it, and that trail, when we
followed it, led right here, and here we find you, with the stuff on
you. That’s proof enough, ain’t it?”
“Hardly,” said Stevens. “For the trail you followed from the fort
went on, after leaving this house; while, as you can see, my horse is
out in front.”
“Oh, let me explain; let me explain!” cried the girl, rushing forward.
The young troopers looked at her curiously and with admiration. She
was a beautiful girl; they had not known so handsome a young woman
was near Fort Cimarron for some time. More than one of them expressed
his admiration for her in his looks. But she was not thinking of
this; she was solely concerned now about the possible fate of her
lover.
“Let me explain,” she repeated.
“Yes, miss,” said the young commander respectfully; “we shall be
pleased to hear anything you have to say.”
Then she told the strange story of how she had come into possession
of the nugget.
“I am willing to surrender it to you,” she declared. “So you see Mr.
Stevens isn’t guilty, as you thought; and, of course, you will not
try to arrest him.”
The young officer looked about at his men, and he saw hesitation in
their eyes. Then he remembered that he had a duty to perform.
He recalled that he had trailed to this house the pony whose tracks
had guided him, and here was the nugget which had caused the pursuit.
“I’ll have to take possession of the nugget,” he said, after a moment
of hesitation. “It belongs to the colonel; and I could not acquit
myself to him if I did not take it and keep it, now that I see it.”
“But you believe what I say?” the girl implored. “Indeed, Mr. Stevens
knew nothing about it.”
The young officer bowed. “We hope we shall not have to be
disagreeable to any young lady,” was his gallant statement. He turned
to his men. “Jones and Simpson,” he said, “go out and look for that
trail which Mr. Stevens says went straight on.”
The men saluted and hurried outside, but they came in shortly.
“Yes, sir, there is a trail going on; but it seems to us, on
examination, that the horse now out in front is really the one that
made the trail we have so far followed.”
“No, no!” the girl insisted, speaking to the men. “You are mistaken.
That trail, made by the horse of the man who threw that envelope to
me, leads on past this house.”
The young officer touched his cap to her.
“I am afraid, miss, that it is our unpleasant duty to convey both you
and this young man to Fort Cimarron. We regret this, but----”
“Arrest me, too?” she cried, her face becoming ghastly pale.
“It is not an arrest in either case,” was the smooth answer. “But we
shall have to ask you and this young gentleman to go with us, and
explain this matter to the colonel, just as you have to us. If we
should do otherwise, we would not escape severe censure. Believe me,
miss, we dislike to do this.”
Stevens broke in hotly.
“Take me, curse you!” he snarled. “But spare the young lady, can’t
you? You’re making a miserable mistake here, as you’ll learn in a
little while. I’ll go with you to the fort and speak to your colonel;
but, for Heaven’s sake, don’t force the young lady to go.”
The young officer bowed again, with a touch of his fingers to his cap.
“Your pardon,” he said courteously, with hesitation; “but what you
say is--er--inadvisable. We must ask both of you to accompany us to
the fort. It is a--er--mere formality, of course. As soon as you have
told the colonel what you have told us he will permit you to go; but
we must, you understand, do our duty as we see it.”