That beautiful wintry Tuesday morning was as placid and serene as nature
could make it, but Fort Scott was in a ferment. Whether stricken by
apoplexy, which was the first, or vertigo, which was the later, theory,
Colonel Peleg Stone had been found lying bleeding and unconscious at the
foot of the stairs, and almost at his parlor door, just after sick-call.
He had arisen early, said his tearful and terrified wife, saying that
matters of importance demanded his presence at the office before
guard-mounting. He had been wakeful and restless during the night. He
had called for hot water soon after reveille, and gone into his
dressing-room to shave. This was all she knew until aroused an hour
later by her frightened maid, with the tidings that the colonel was
lying speechless in the hall. Both doctors and Mr. Leonard were
summoned. Violence was hinted at, but the orderly pacing the front
piazza declared that no one had entered the front door since he came
over and rang the bell to report himself for duty just as soon as he had
finished breakfast. "For them was the colonel's orders when he dismissed
me last night." Just about sick-call he heard the sound of a heavy fall
inside, and presently "Jane come a-runnin'," and told him to rush for
the doctors. Alonzo, the colonel's colored body-servant who had followed
his fortunes a dozen years, was in the kitchen below stairs, and was
sure no one had come in from the rear. He, too, had heard the fall and
ran up with Jane, finding his master completely dressed, lying close to
the parlor door, with blood streaming from his nose and mouth. There
were heavy contusions on the forehead and face, caused probably by his
having plunged blindly forward down the stairs. Something in the
stertorous breathing suggested apoplexy, but the doctors soon decided
against that. It might have been vertigo, or he might simply have
tripped at the top and come diving head-foremost all the way down, but
his clothing was not in such disorder as that would cause, and neither
the orderly, nor Jane, nor Alonzo had heard more than one single crash
or thud. Had they examined the parlor and sitting-room to see if any one
could have been there hidden? was asked. No, there wasn't time. The
house was one of the big double sets of quarters, with hall-way and
staircase in the middle, as frequently planned in those days for the
commanding officer of the large frontier garrisons. Four large rooms
were on the ground floor for use as parlor, sitting-, and reception- and
dining-room, all abundantly furnished, as Mrs. Stone was well-to-do, and
there were hiding-places enough if some one had stolen in, like a thief
in the night. The broad contusion on the forehead might have been caused
by some blunt instrument, to be sure, said the senior surgeon, but he
thought it improbable. Only one thing was certain,--Pegleg was knocked
out. It might be several days, possibly a week, before he could resume
duty. Captain Devers came over five minutes after the adjutant left him,
and was profuse in sympathy, sorrow, and proffers of aid. The despatch
sent to Department head-quarters that afternoon was a model of style,
but it did not reach the office until late in the afternoon, so late
that the general had gone home with his chief of staff, and not until
five o'clock was it placed in the hands of the latter, who took it at
once to his commander.
"Whew!" said the chief. "It's bad enough to have Pegleg down, but think
of having Devers up, even for a week."
"I don't see what we can do, sir," was the reply. "The
lieutenant-colonel of the Fortieth is on leave awaiting retirement, the
major on General Sheridan's staff. Major Warren, of the Eleventh, is
abroad, and Devers is the ranking captain."
"Well, let it stand," said the general, after a while. "Leonard will
look after affairs in the Fortieth, and you look after Devers. If he
gets to cutting up any didoes, send him up to the reservation to
investigate the trouble up there; it's something after his own heart, I
reckon,--or send him anywhere, and let the command devolve on the next
captain until Stone's on deck again. Devers says he'll be up in a week."
"That's just what makes me fear he won't be well in a month, and if he
isn't able to resume duty, Devers will say he only meant _sitting_ up in
bed, probably."
No matter what the opinion attaching to Captain Devers, however, the
fact remained that he was now in law and fact commanding officer of the
biggest post in the Platte Valley, and meant to make the most of his
opportunities. Leonard promptly asked to be relieved from duty as
post-adjutant, on the plausible ground that Captain Devers would
doubtless prefer to have one of his own cloth and corps in the office,
and Devers, well knowing how it would reflect upon him at Department
head-quarters, refused to change. "However strained may be our personal
relations, the good of the service demands that for the present they be
ignored. The differences between us can and shall be adjusted later on,"
was the purport of his reply. Meantime Mr. Leonard could be assured that
he should in no wise be disturbed in his functions as regimental
adjutant, or hampered no more than was necessary in those that related
to the post. Leonard swore impressively as he read the reply to his
friends, Captain Pollock of the Fortieth, and Cranston of the Eleventh,
but said nothing to any one else.
Davies was to relieve Hastings as troop duty officer for the week, and
assume charge of roll-calls and stables, all matters between himself and
his captain being incontinently shelved after conference with Cranston,
Truman, and Hay, until such time as somebody beside Devers should sit in
judgment on Devers's acts. The temporary post-commander spent very
little of Tuesday morning in the office. With official gravity he signed
the ration returns and such papers as were to be forwarded. "All matters
concerning the interior discipline of the companies I prefer leaving to
their proper commanders," said he, coldly, to the statuesque adjutant,
thereby hitting a self-comforting whack at the colonel, who rather liked
to interfere. "I have every confidence in the judgment of the captains
of the infantry, at least, and as for routine matters you will be
pleased to conduct them just as when Colonel Stone was on duty."
Then he went forth to his own sanctum, the troop office, raising his fur
cap in acknowledgment of the sentry's shrill, "Turn out the guard;
commanding officer!" and once there established, he sent his orderly
with directions to the sergeant of the guard. In five minutes prisoner
Howard, conducted by an armed sentry, made his appearance, and was
received within the sanctum. "You may retire, sentry, until called. I'll
be responsible for this man," said he, and from that conference even
Sergeant Haney was excluded. The interview lasted twenty minutes, at the
end of which time Howard was remanded to the guard-house and Paine
brought over in his place. Howard swaggered insolently past the sergeant
of the guard on his return, and when told to get ready to go out to
work, replied, "I guess not, Johnny, unless you want to lose your
stripes." But Paine came "home" scared and abject. Men in quarters said
that both the captain and Sergeant Haney stormed at him until he didn't
know black from white, and the temporary company clerk, excluded from
the office during the conference, was called in finally to witness
Paine's signature to a paper, the contents of which he did not see at
all.
All day Tuesday Davies was occupied in getting his furniture and traps
into Number 12, and Almira--pretty as a picture, and eagerly assisted by
her now intimate friends, Mesdames Flight and Darling--was tacking up
curtains, brackets, and knickknacks. Army women have a gift of making
even a burrow look cheery and attractive, though they do accumulate an
amount of truck that becomes embarrassing in the inevitable event of a
move. On Wednesday, however, as has been said, his week of troop duty
was to begin, and at gun-fire he was up and dressed and ready for
business. Devers did not come down to stables. The first sergeant made
the various reports in somewhat off-hand and perfunctory style, but
Davies took, apparently, no notice of his manner, and, joining Captain
Cranston as soon as he had inspected the stables on the return of the
horses to their stalls, the two friends strolled slowly up the winding
road to the parade, the last officers to return homeward. Sick-call was
sounding as they passed the barracks, and Captain Devers met them on the
walk. Both officers saluted the post-commander, Davies in silence,
Cranston with an accompanying "Good-morning, sir." Devers responded in
the briefest possible way and went at once to business.
"Mr. Davies, that man Brannan will be returned to the troop from
hospital this morning. See that he is immediately confined in the
guard-house." And then, with his orderly following, the commander went
his way. Sergeant Haney was standing not forty yards away on the
barrack-porch awaiting his captain's coming. Such instructions were
generally given by the company commander direct to the first sergeant,
and the purpose of making Davies the medium and Cranston the witness of
the order was apparent at a glance. Devers meant to inflict his
punishment not only upon the soldier, but upon those who dared either in
person or through some "member of the household" appear as the
soldier's friend.
"What should I do, captain?" asked Davies, sadly. "Turn and carry the
order to the first sergeant at once?"
Cranston looked back, saw Devers halt to say some words to the troop
farrier, and seized the opportunity.
"Yes, and I will go with you to be ready to testify to your having
obeyed."
Retracing their steps, the two approached the quarters. "Go no farther,"
said Cranston, in low tone, as they got about half-way and were close to
where Devers stood. "Call the sergeant to you here." Davies did so, and
Devers whirled around in surprise. Haney came promptly, buttoning his
overcoat on the way. It wouldn't do to "slouch" in presence of Cranston,
whatsoever he might dare with a new lieutenant.
"Sergeant," said Davies, "the captain orders that Trooper Brannan be
confined in the guard-house the moment he returns from hospital."
"Yes, sir. I got the order, sir, last night," said Haney, forgetful in
Cranston's presence of the impulse to be flippant, and unconsciously
revealing just exactly what his captain meant to conceal. Davies turned
and looked at Cranston, and the latter, with a peculiar smile, linked
his arm in that of his friend and, carefully avoiding the spot where
Devers now stood watching them, led him away.
This for a starter was significant, but more was to come. Guard mounting
was hurried through that morning, for the air was sharply cold and a
northerly wind was beginning to moan through the garrison and whirl the
snow in drifts over the desolate prairie. Captains Truman and Pollock,
the former as old and the latter as new officer of the day, appeared in
fur caps and heavy overcoats and stood at the desk where Colonel Pegleg
for months past had administered the affairs of the post. The former
raised his hand in salute as he said, "I report as old officer of the
day, sir," and tendered the guard report. Devers glanced at once at the
list of prisoners. Foremost were the familiar names of the old stagers,
the general prisoners undergoing sentence of court-martial. Then those
of the men sentenced to brief confinement by the minor or garrison
court. Then came the names of those awaiting trial, and opposite each
name in the column headed "Charges" was the word "Preferred," as was the
custom of the day, and this significant word appeared opposite the next
to the last name on the list, that of Howard, Troop "A."
"Ah! What is the nature of the charges against prisoner Howard?" asked
Devers, blandly.
"I haven't seen them, sir. I understand that they were prepared by
Lieutenant Sanders as directed by Colonel Stone."
Devers tapped his bell and the orderly sprang in. "My compliments to the
adjutant," said he, and from the adjoining room, grave, stolid, and
imperturbable as ever, Leonard came in, pencil in hand, and stood at
attention without a word.
"Mr. Leonard, have charges been preferred against Trooper Howard?"
"Yes, sir. Desertion. The specification alleges that he was caught
aboard the west-bound train at Braska in civilian dress Monday evening."
"Anything else?"
"No, sir."
"Captain Pollock, you may release Howard. He was in town with my
approbation and assent, looking for an absentee whose haunts he knew and
whose presence was required here. He says he boarded the train expecting
possibly to find him thereon, and wore civilian dress because his
uniform might have caused his rejection at places he wished to search."
Captain Pollock touched his cap without a word.
"You will also see that Paine and Brannan, recently confined, are sent
out to work with the police cart. Other orders as usual. You are
relieved, Captain Truman. That is all, Mr. Leonard."
The talk that ensued among the officers of the calvary command when this
matter was detailed at the club room will have to be condensed. Davies
was not present. He never went there. Cranston was present for the first
time in weeks, for it was an establishment for which ordinarily he had
no use. He and Truman went thither because they knew that that was where
Sanders could be found, and there they found him. It was barely ten
o'clock, but this light-hearted young gentleman, together with three or
four kindred spirits of the Fortieth, was discussing, to the
accompaniment of hot Scotch, the relative values of hands dealt at
random from a grimy deck. That they should have taken to hot Scotch at
such an hour they explained by the statement that as they had to be up
with the dawn the day was already old, and that they should be playing
poker they didn't consider a matter calling for explanation of any kind.
It was "a way they had in the army" in those days when the other
three-quarters of the year was spent in sharp campaigning. Sanders
cheerfully dropped his hand as he had his money and told his story like
a little man.
"We trotted or galloped all the way to town and found Paine soon after
six, drunk, of course,--too drunk to ride the spare horse, so while we
were waiting for an ambulance from the quartermaster's depot, I ran over
to the Cattle Club for a drink, and was chatting there with Willett and
Burtis,--by the way, I asked them both to drive out and dine with us
to-night and take in the hop later,--and presently in came a couple of
cattlemen from Cheyenne who knew everybody at Russell and were jolly,
pleasant fellows. They were going up on the evening freight, and we
loaded up a lunch-basket and went down to the depot to see them off in
the caboose. The Braska crowd did their best to send them home full, and
they were full, and nothing would do but we must go into the bar and
drink Roederer with them until the conductor came rushing in to say all
aboard. Then they snaked me on to the caboose platform when the train
was under way, pulled me inside and ran me half a mile up the track
before they could stop her again. But that half-mile did the business
for Mr. Howard. There he was spruce and dandified as you please, dressed
fit to kill in a bang-up better suit than I ever hope to own, trying to
sit behind a newspaper. They pulled Burtis aboard, too, and in the
scuffle he fell all over Howard, knocked his hat off, and I knew the
face in a second, and when I came off that car he came with me, by the
scruff of his neck, swearing and protesting and denying that he was
Howard, and threatening to have the law on me and appealing to the
cattlemen for rescue. By Jupiter, if it wasn't that I had been with them
long enough to make a favorable impression they would have rescued him,
too. They didn't half want to let him go, and he straggled hard to get
away as it was."
Then Truman told him what Devers's orders and remarks were, and Sanders
fairly blazed with wrath. "It's the maddest kind of a lie," said he.
"That fellow had never looked for Paine or thought of such a thing. We
found where he had left his uniform and where he kept in hiding until
time to skip out and catch that train. He wasn't looking for anybody and
didn't care to see or be seen by anybody. If it wasn't a clear-cut case
of desertion may I be hanged. He had over two hundred dollars in his
clothes and fresh duds in his grip-sack."
Long before mid-day, therefore, Sanders's words were being repeated from
mouth to mouth, and Trooper Howard, with pale face and starting eyes,
was shut up in the company office where only the captain and Sergeant
Haney could get at him, and Devers was there with his sergeant and
clerk, when just at 10.45 the telegraph operator came bulging into Mr.
Leonard's office.
"An important despatch," said he, "for the commanding officer."
Leonard took it, then hesitated. Under Colonel Stone his instructions
were to open and read at once, but the relations between him and the
captain temporarily in command were neither confidential nor cordial.
"Take it to Captain Devers," said he, "and I will wait."
Devers read the despatch with kindling eye. It was from department
head-quarters at Omaha, and said briefly,--
"Send a discreet officer with twenty cavalrymen for temporary duty with
Boynton at the agency at once. Report action by wire."
For a few minutes the captain sat in deep thought, then with head erect,
and with quick, confident step, left the barracks and went straight to
the adjutant's office. "Orderly," said he, "my compliments to Mr. Davies
and say I wish to see him at once."
And so only a little more than an hour later, knowing absolutely nothing
of what might be going on at the agency, judging only from the reports
of the mail-carrier that there had been trouble between the agent and
some of Red Dog's people, and that the agent had determined to make
arrests, leaving his bride wildly weeping and protesting in the hands of
her devoted friends Mesdames Flight and Darling, yet commending her to
the guardianship of Captain and Mrs. Cranston, Percy Davies set forth
upon a bitter, wintry march of eighty miles, answering the call of duty
at the front, leaving wife and fireside, good name and character, to the
care of friends or foes who remained.