Guarded by a detachment of veteran infantry, the recruits so turbulent
at noon were spiritless now in every sense of the word. Turning over his
charge, as well as his account of their conduct and of his own, to the
commander of the escort, Captain Muffet remained at department
head-quarters long enough to impress the officials thereat on duty with
his version of the riot at Bluff Siding,--its inciting cause and its
incisive cure. Then he went back to the cavalry depot and presumably
improved on his initial effort. The story of Muffet's wild ride with the
raw recruits and Muffet's method of quelling a mob was often told that
summer at the rear long after Lieutenant Davies and the recruits in
question had gone to the front and were lost to all communication. The
officer who went in command from Omaha was an expert. He established a
sergeant's guard in each recruit car, with orders to flatten out the
first man who left his seat, rap every head that showed outside a window
when the train stopped, and so turned over the one hundred and
seventy-two that were turned over to him a sick and subdued lot by the
time they reached Fort Sanders the following afternoon. "This is Mr.
Davies,--Lieutenant Davies,--just graduated,--who's to go on with 'em,"
said he to the commanding officer of that old army post, adding for his
private ear, "He's a tenderfoot and doesn't know anything but moral
suasion." To this conclusion Captain Tibbetts has been impelled by what
he had heard as well as by the events of the night. Mr. Davies, of whom
he knew nothing except what Muffet had to say, having been told that he
needn't bother about the men any more, had nevertheless bothered about
them, three or four at least, very much,--Lance Corporal Brannan to
begin with, who was slashed in the hand, and a couple of sorely battered
penitents in the middle car among them. No surgeon being with the
detachment, Davies had begged permission towards evening to fetch these
poor fellows back to the sleeper, where their hurts could be cleaned and
bandaged. Tibbetts said no, and two hours later yes. Meantime he had met
the ladies, one of whom, the elder, exhausted by the sleeplessness and
anxiety of forty-eight hours, was comforted by the despatch brought her
at Omaha to the effect that her husband was being sent in by easy stages
to Fort Fetterman, where she could meet and nurse him, and she was now
finally and peacefully sleeping in her berth. The other, a slender,
graceful girl, with very soft dark eyes and grave, sweet, mobile face,
who sat and fanned Mrs. Cranston during the heat of the afternoon, had
next surprised the captain by re-dressing the ugly wound in the young
corporal's hand. Tibbetts knew Captain Cranston well by reputation. He
was one of the finest troop commanders of the cavalry arm, but Tibbetts
had never before met Mrs. Cranston and her companion now consigned to
his care.
"You are well taught in first aid to the wounded," he said. "Where did
you learn?"
"My father was Dr. Loomis, of the army," she answered, simply. "He
taught me when I was quite a child. He died, as I think perhaps you
know."
"We all knew him, Miss Loomis," was the instant reply. "Even those who
never met him, personally, knew him as I did,--for his devotion to our
poor fellows in the fever epidemic. And your mother?"
"Mother has been dead for years. I am alone now, but for my cousin
Margaret,--Mrs. Cranston. I am her companion."
And the captain, himself aging in the service, and with daughters who
might be left as was this girl,--penniless,--understood, and bowed in
silent sympathy. It was the sight of the gash in Brannan's fist that
called him back to the business before him.
"How did you get that?" he asked, with professional brevity, little
liking it--soldier bred as he was--that one of the new flock should thus
be parcelled out from his fellows and transported in a Pullman.
"Climbing through the window of the saloon I--cut it, sir," was the
answer.
"Yes--_there_ perhaps," said Tibbetts, indicating the smaller gash, "but
this one,--clean cut like a knife. Whose knife?"
Whereat Brannan looked confused and troubled. "I don't know, sir," he
finally said.
"I believe you do know, and that you got it in that saloon row. A pretty
thing for a man like you to be mixed in."
Whereat Brannan reddened still more, and looked as though he wanted to
speak yet feared to say. It was Miss Loomis who promptly took the word.
"Indeed, captain, you don't understand. He was ordered in. He was
handling the hose pipe--the very first--with Mr. Davies." And here she
turned as though to seek the other pipeman, while Tibbetts
effusively--impulsively--began to make amends.
"Well--well--well," said he. "That's a totally different matter. You got
your wound in a good cause, sir, and if I could find out who tried to
knife you, he'd repent it this night. Are you sure you don't know?"
"I don't think anybody tried to cut me, sir," was the answer, after a
pause.
"Didn't you see anybody with a knife?"
But this Brannan wouldn't answer, and the captain, after a moment's
thought, went lurching through the grimy, swaying cars, hunted up the
two damaged recruits and gruffly bade them follow him. Davies looked up
gratefully as they entered the sleeping-car, but the captain did not
notice him. "I have reconsidered," said he, "and brought these patients
to you, Miss Loomis," then turned abruptly away. It was the subaltern
who aided, and then who thanked the skilful, light-handed nurse, for the
poor fellows seemed both abashed and humbled. One of them, looking
furtively about, had caught sight of Brannan, sitting alone in a section
with his bandaged hand. Quick glance of recognition was exchanged. There
was an instant of question in the new-comer's eye. It was answered by
the corporal, who raised two fingers to his compressed lips one second,
then let them fall. But Davies saw,--saw also that when told by the
captain they might remain there in the roomier, cooler sleeper for a
time, the younger and more intelligent-looking of the two dropped into
the seat by Brannan's side. They chatted in low tone together, as the
night came on, their lips moving and their ears attent even though their
heads were turned apart,--communing as men commune who do not wish to be
thought in conversation.
"We shall have supper at Grand Island," said the captain, presently,
"and coffee will be sent through the cars for the men. If you will
escort Mrs. Cranston and Miss Loomis, Mr. Davies, my sergeants will look
after the command." And Mr. Davies being subordinate and just out of
four years' training in which no man may hesitate to do just as a
superior may bid, obeyed his instructions, not unwilling, even though
smarting under vague sense of being given to understand he was of no
military use.
Re-entering the car, refreshed after a hearty supper, and seeing his
fair charges to their section, Mr. Davies caught sight of his invalids
still seated where he had left them, and looking weak and hungry.
"Did they bring you no coffee? Have you had no supper?" he asked. And,
as a shake of the head was sole answer, he sallied forth. Appealing to
the sergeant in charge of the distribution of the cooked rations, he was
favored with the brief reply, "The captain didn't give me no orders."
Moreover, there didn't seem to be anything left. The captain was still
leisurely finishing his own supper, after having got the coffee started
on the train. The huge caldrons used for the purpose were already being
lifted off the cars, empty. Every drop had been spilled or swallowed by
the hungry and thirsty crowd. With quick decision Davies stepped to the
lunch-counter, loaded up with huge frontier sandwiches, doughnuts, and
hard-boiled eggs, and bade the manager draw a jug full of coffee and get
it, with some cups, milk, and sugar, on the sleeper at once. He came
forth laden, the Pullman porter with him, as the conductor was trolling,
"All aboard." Down the platform he went with the eyes of half the blue
coats on the cars upon him, and soldiers refreshed by food and coffee
are in more receptive mood than when dejected by hunger. Some men in the
third car who had heard his eager queries of the commissary sergeant
knew for whom those supplies were meant, others did not, and of these
latter one jocular and untutored Patlander sang out, "Bully for the
leftenint; 'tis he that knows how to look out for number wan." Whereat
there came furious shouts of "Shame!" "Shut up!" and inelegant and
opprobrious epithets, all at the expense of the impetuous son of Erin
who had spoken too soon. Some one whacked his empty head with an equally
empty canteen and called him a Yap. Some one else, farther back, sang
out, "Three cheers for the lieutenant," and stentorian authority in
chevrons bellowed "Silence there, fore and aft!" and then, when instant
hush and awe rewarded the mandate, followed up the order with the
military Milesianism, "Youse fellers wants to keep your mouths shut
barrin' you're atin'." The wounded in the Pullman ate and drank
gratefully and heartily at the lieutenant's expense, and these are
matters the rank and file remember. Lance Corporal Brannan, made
comfortable for the night in the sleeper, had a few murmured words with
the dark-eyed and more intelligent-looking of the two recruits before
they were remanded to their own car for the night, where they went, and,
after the manner of their kind, one of them bragged not a little over
the bully supper they had had with the lieutenant. "Enjoy it while you
can, me bucks," was the caustic comment of a fellow-recruit who had all
the ear-marks and none of the credentials of previous service about him.
"It's the last of that sort of hobnobbing you'll ever see."
For upwards of an hour during the night, while Mrs. Cranston lay
peacefully sleeping, Mr. Davies and Miss Loomis sat in conversation in
the opposite section. Tibbetts, who would fain have enjoyed such a
privilege, found no opportunity. Somewhere towards ten o'clock he came
quickly in. Davies read official matter in the captain's manner as he
approached the section, and rising, stood attention, cadet-like, when
addressed.
"Mr. Davies, while I think everything will go quietly with those
fellows from this on, I wish to take all necessary precautions. I will
divide the night with you. After two o'clock I wish you to go through
the cars once every two hours and see that the recruits are quiet and
the guard alert, also to step outside to the platform when we stop at
stations. Better turn in now and get what sleep you can."
But though promptly at two o'clock the young officer aroused the
captain, who was dozing in the smoking-room, he himself had had little
sleep. The events of the day, the novelty of his position, the desire to
see something of the strange, half-settled land so recently the
roaming-ground of Indian and buffalo through which they were steadily
rolling, and which lay outspread, weird and ghostly, in the summer
moonlight,--these and thoughts of home and the rapidly nearing
possibilities of frontier warfare, all combined to make him wakeful. He
was only getting sleepy when he should have been wide awake. Captain
Tibbetts was an old campaigner and awoke from his doze with a start,
shook himself together, and said he'd take a turn through the car before
undressing for the night. In a moment or two he returned, the first
sergeant with him, and this faithful old soldier was rewarded by a long
pull from the captain's canteen before returning to the recruit car.
"Do you know anything about that young fellow,--ever meet him before?"
said Tibbetts, indicating with a nod the recruit corporal, who, with a
pillow under his head and his feet on the opposite seat, was now curled
up in slumber.
"No, sir," answered Davies.
"Well, he's a man of good education and family, if I'm not mistaken. I'm
told he's been on duty as clerk at the depot, and 'twas he who made out
the rolls. It will be long before he can write again. Better leave him
at Sanders." As he spoke the captain was holding out the well-filled
flask in one hand, the cup in the other. Davies took neither. "Won't you
have a nip?" asked the senior. "It'll help you to keep awake."
"Thank you, sir, I never have, and don't care to begin."
Tibbetts began screwing on the cap, looking his man over as he did so.
"I believe you're right," said he, "and if I were to begin over again
I'd do the same. But we were all taught the other way fifteen years
ago." He paused as though he half wanted to say more, but finally turned
away and disappeared in his section.
Obedient to his instructions, Davies made frequent tours through the
cars, and scouted the outside of the train at every stop. The night
passed, however, in perfect peace. The dawn came hours before the train
was due at Sidney, where coffee was again to be served. Only one
incident occurred to give him food for new thought. Towards four o'clock
he returned to the sleeper after an absence of some ten minutes, just as
the train pulled slowly away from one of those little prairie stations,
and as he entered the dimly-lighted aisle he saw that Brannan was not in
his place. Standing at Mrs. Cranston's section farther on, a little
phial and medicine-glass in her hand, her dark hair falling in heavy
braids down her back, attired in a loose, warm wrapper, was Miss Loomis,
calm, yet evidently anxious. Beyond her hovered Brannan, holding the
captain's flask.
"What is it?" asked Davies. "Can I be of assistance?"
"Mrs. Cranston woke up in some pain," was the answer. "I know just what
to do for her. Thank you, corporal, I believe we won't need the
flask.--He thought I needed it," said she, turning to Davies. And
Brannan, going to the captain's section, slipped his prize back into the
little russet leather satchel and shoved it underneath the berth. Davies
looked at him in some surprise, but made no comment.
"I am sorry I was not here to help you," said he. "Did you have to wake
him,--Brannan?"
"He was awake. A soldier was in here speaking with him when I heard Mrs.
Cranston, just after we stopped at the last station. We were there
several minutes, were we not?"
"Yes, taking on water; but Captain Tibbetts gave orders that no man
should leave his car. Who was the man who came in here, corporal?" asked
he of Brannan.
"I--I couldn't give his name, sir," was the answer, in evident
embarrassment. "He came in just the minute the lieutenant got off at the
station. He was only in here a few seconds, sir."
"What did he want?" asked Davies.
"He--wanted something of the captain, sir, but I told him the captain
was asleep."
Davies hastened through the passage and across the jolting platform to
the next car ahead.
"Sergeant," said he, "what man went through here into the sleeper when
we stopped last station?"
"No man, sir," said the non-commissioned officer, stoutly.
"But there must have been--or no, perhaps he could have run along the
left side of the train from a forward car and jumped on the platform. I
didn't think of that. Did you see or hear no one?"
"I heard some one on the platform of the sleeper, sir, but I thought it
was the lieutenant."
Going forward Davies met with no better success. The guard at each door
was positive no man had gone out. Then, unless there were collusion on
the part of the sentries, he must have slipped through some window, said
Davies to himself. Miss Loomis was still up and rearranging Mrs.
Cranston's pillows when he returned.
"Did you ascertain anything?" she asked.
"Nothing. They all deny any knowledge of such a thing."
"Do you know, I thought there was something strange about it. The man
seemed hurried and excited, talked low and fast, and when Brannan
refused or seemed to refuse what was asked, I heard him say, 'Well,
you'll be a sorry man if you don't.'"
But of this threat Brannan denied all knowledge whatsoever. Davies,
feeling sure that the young soldier was concealing something, decided to
ask no more questions inviting more lies, but to wait and report the
affair to the captain after breakfast. This time the sergeants did not
overlook the lance corporal in the distribution of coffee and rations.
Davies found that Miss Loomis had just finished dressing and bandaging
the wound when he returned to the sleeper shortly after they resumed
the journey. The soldier looked gratefully into her face as he turned
away, and murmured something the young officer could not hear. "Yes, I
understand," said Miss Loomis in reply.
A moment later she accosted him. "I'm going to ask you something that
may sound very strange," she said, and her color heightened and the lids
swept quickly over her eyes, "yet--I believe you won't misunderstand. I
want you to do something--or rather _not_ to do something--for me. You
were going to tell Captain Tibbetts about that affair of last
night,--that other soldier's coming in here, were you not?"
"I certainly was."
"Well--please don't."