THE SUPREME COURT
If remorse, mental or physical, affected any of the dwellers at
Jefferson Barracks on the morning following the officers' ball, at least
neither was in evidence. By noon all traces of the late festivities had
been removed from the parade ground, and the routine of the Post went on
with the usual mechanical precision. The Army had entertained, it now
labored. In a few hours it would again be ready to be entertained; the
next little event of interest being the pigeon match between Orme and
myself, which swift rumor seemed to have magnified into an importance
not wholly welcome to myself.
We had a late breakfast at Number 16, and my friend Stevenson, who was
to handle me in the match, saw to it that I had a hard tubbing before
breakfast and a good run afterward, and later a hearty luncheon with no
heavy wines. I was surprised at these business-like proceedings, which
were all new to me, and I reflected with no satisfaction that my
hot-headedness in accepting Orme's challenge might result in no glory to
myself, and worse than that, let in my friends for loss; for Stevenson
informed me that in spite of the fact that I had never shot in a race, a
number of wagers were backing me against the Englishman. I reasoned,
however, that these responsibilities should not be considered by one who
needed perfect command of himself. Moreover, although I had never shot
at trapped birds, I reasoned that a bird in the air was a flying bird
after all, whether from trap or tree. Then, again, I was offended at
Orme's air of superiority. Lastly, though it might be the fault of the
Cowles' blood to accept any sort of challenge, it was not our way to
regret that so soon as the day following.
The grounds for the match had been arranged at the usual place, near to
the edge of the military reservation, and here, a half hour before the
time set, there began to gather practically all of the young officers
about the Post, all the enlisted men who could get leave, with cooks,
strikers, laundresses, and other scattered personnel of the barracks.
There came as well many civilians from the city, and I was surprised to
see a line of carriages, with many ladies, drawn up back of the score.
Evidently our little matter was to be made a semi-fashionable affair,
and used as another expedient to while away ennui-ridden Army time.
My opponent, accompanied by Major Williams, arrived at about the same
time that our party reached the grounds. Orme shook hands with me, and
declared that he was feeling well, although Williams laughingly
announced that he had not been able to make his man go to bed for more
than an hour that morning, or to keep him from eating and drinking
everything he could lay his hands upon. Yet now his eye was bright, his
skin firm, his step light and easy. That the man had a superb
constitution was evident, and I knew that my work was cut out for me,
for Orme, whatever his profession, was an old one at the game of speedy
going. As a man I disliked and now suspected him. As an opponent at any
game one was obliged to take account of him.
"What boundary do we use, gentlemen?" Orme asked, as he looked out over
the field. This question showed his acquaintance, but none the less his
confidence and his courtesy as well, for in closely made matches all
details are carefully weighed before the issue is joined. "I am more
used to the Monaco bounds of eighteen yards," he added, "but whatever is
your custom here will please me. I only want to have a notion of your
sport."
"Our races here have usually been shot at fifty yards bounds," said
Stevenson.
"As you like," said Orme, "if that pleases Mr. Cowles."
"Perfectly," said I, who indeed knew little about the matter.
Orme stepped over to the coops where the birds were kept--splendid,
iridescent creatures, with long tails, clean, gamy heads and all the
colors of the rainbow on their breasts. "By Jove!" he said, "they're
rippers for looks, and they should fly a bit, I'm thinking. I have never
seen them before, much less shot a race at them."
"Still your advantage," said I, laughing, "for I never shot a race at
any sort in my life."
"And yet you match against me? My dear fellow, I hardly like--"
"The match is made, Captain Orme, and I am sure Mr. Cowles would not ask
for any readjustment," commented Stevenson stiffly.
"Don't understand me to wish to urge anything," said Orme. "I only wish
it so we shall all have a chance at revenge. Is there any one who wishes
to back me, perhaps, or to back Mr. Cowles? Sometimes in England we
shoot at a guinea a bird or five, or ten." Stevenson shook his head.
"Too gaited for me at this time of the month," he said; "but I'll lay
you a hundred dollars on the issue."
"Five if you like, on the Virginian, sir," said young Belknap of the
Ninth to Orme.
"Done, and done, gentlemen. Let it be dollars and not guineas if you
like. Would any one else like to lay a little something? You see, I'm a
stranger here, but I wish to do what will make it interesting for any of
you who care to wager something."
A few more wagers were laid, and the civilian element began to plunge a
bit on Orme, word having passed that he was an old hand at the game,
whereas I was but a novice. Orme took some of these wagers carelessly.
"Now as to our referee, Captain," said Stevenson. "You are, as you say,
something of a stranger among us, and we wish your acquaintance were
greater, so that you might name some one who would suit you."
"I'm indifferent," said Orme politely. "Any one Mr. Cowles may name will
please me."
His conduct was handsome throughout, and his sporting attitude made him
many friends among us. I suspect some Army money went on him, quietly,
although little betting was now done in our presence.
"I see Judge Reeves, of the Supreme Court of the State, over there in a
carriage," suggested Major Williams. "I've very much a notion to go and
ask him to act as our referee."
"God bless my soul!" said Orme, "this is an extraordinary country!
What--a judge of the Supreme Court?"
Williams laughed. "You don't know this country, Captain, and you don't
know Judge Reeves. He's a trifle old, but game as a fighting cock, and
not to mention a few duels in his time, he knows more even about guns
and dogs to-day than he does about law. He'll not be offended if I ask
him, and here goes."
He edged off through the crowd, and we saw him engaged in earnest
conversation with the judge. To our surprise and amusement we observed
the judge climb hastily down out of his carriage and take Major
Williams' arm.
Judge Reeves was a tall, thin man, whose long hair and beard were
silvery white, yet his stature was erect and vigorous. It was always
said of him that he was the most dignified man in the State of Missouri,
and that he carried this formality into every detail of his daily life.
The story ran that each night, when he and his aged consort retired,
they stood, each with candle in hand, on either side of the great bed
which all their married life they had occupied in harmony. She, formally
bowing to him across the bed, said "Good-night, Judge Reeves"; whereat
he, bowing with yet greater formality, replied, "Good-night, Mrs.
Reeves." Each then blew out the candle, and so retired! I cannot vouch
as to the truth of this story, or of the further report that they
carried out their ceremony when seating themselves at table, each meal
of the day; but I will say that the appearance of this gentleman would
have given such stories likelihood.
We uncovered as the judge approached us, and he shook hands with us in
the most solemn way, his own wide black hat in his hand. "A--a--hem,
gentlemen," he said, "a somewhat unusual situation for one on the
bench--most unusual, I may say. But the Court can see no harm in it,
since no law of the land is violated. Neither does the Court hold it
beneath the dignity of its office to witness this little trial of skill
between gentlemen. Further speaking, the Court does not here pass upon
questions of law, but sits rather as jury in matters of ocular evidence,
with the simple duty of determining whether certain flying objects fall
upon this or the other side of that certain line marked out as the
boundaries. Gentlemen, I am, a--hem, yours with great pleasure." If
there was a twinkle in his eye it was a very solemn one. I venture to
say he would have lost no votes at the next election were he up for
office.
"Is the case ready for argument?" presently asked the judge, benignly.
Williams and Stevenson both replied "All ready."
"I suggest that the gentlemen place their ammunition and loading tools
upon the head of the cask at my right," said the judge. "I presume it to
be understood that each may employ such charge as he prefers, and that
each shall load his own piece?" The seconds assented to this. Of course,
in those days only muzzle loaders were used, although we had cut-felt
wads and all the improvements in gunnery known at that time. My weapon
was supplied me by Captain Stevenson--a good Manton, somewhat battered
up from much use, but of excellent even pattern. Orme shot a Pope-made
gun of London, with the customary straight hand and slight drop of the
English makes. I think he had brought this with him on his travels.
"Shall the firing be with the single barrel, or with both barrels?"
inquired our referee. In those days many American matches were shot from
plunge traps, and with the single barrel.
"I'm more used to the use of both barrels," suggested Orme, "but I do
not insist."
"It is the same to me," I said. So finally we decided that the rise
should be at twenty-eight yards, the use of both barrels allowed, and
the boundary at fifty yards--such rules as came to be later more
generally accepted in this country.
"Gentlemen, I suggest that you agree each bird to be gathered fairly by
the hand, each of you to select a gatherer. Each gentleman may
remunerate his gatherer, but the said remuneration shall in each case
remain the same. Is that satisfactory?" We agreed, and each tossed a
silver dollar to a grinning darky boy.
"Now, then, gentlemen, the Court is informed that this match is to be
for the sum of twenty-five hundred dollars, wagered by Captain Orme,
against a certain black stallion horse, the same not introduced in
evidence, but stated by Mr. Cowles to be of the value of twenty-five
hundred dollars in the open market. As the match is stated to be on even
terms, the said John Cowles guarantees this certain horse to be of such
value, or agrees to make good any deficit in that value. Is that
understood, gentlemen?"
"I did not ask any guarantee," said Orme. "I know the horse, and he is
worth more than twice that sum. You are using me very handsomely,
gentlemen."
"Judge Reeves is right," said I. "The match is to be even." We bowed to
each other.
The judge felt in his pockets. "Ahem, gentlemen," he resumed. "The Court
being, as it were, broke, will some one be so good as to lend the Court
a silver coin? Thank you," to Williams, "and now, gentlemen, will you
toss for the order of precedence?"
We threw the coin, and I lost the toss. Orme sent me to the score first,
with the purpose, as I knew, of studying his man.
I loaded at the open bowls, and adjusted the caps as I stepped to the
score. I was perhaps a bit too tense and eager, although my health and
youth had never allowed me to be a victim of what is known as
nervousness. Our birds were to be flown by hand from behind a screen,
and my first bird started off a trifle low, but fast, and I knew I was
not on with the first barrel, the hang of Stevenson's gun being not
quite the same as my own. I killed it with the second, but it struggled
over the tape.
"Lost bird!" called out Judge Reeves sharply and distinctly; and it was
evident that now he would be as decisive as he had hitherto been
deliberate.
Under the etiquette of the game no comment was made on my mishap, and my
second, Stevenson, did not make the mistake of commiserating me. No one
spoke a word as Orme stepped to the score. He killed his bird as clean
as though he had done nothing else all his life, and indeed, I think he
was half turned about from the score before the bird was down. "Dead
bird!" called the referee, with jaw closing like a steel trap.
Stevenson whispered to me this time. "Get full on with your first," he
said. "They're lead-packers--old ones, every one, and a picked lot."
I was a trifle angry with myself by this time, but it only left me well
keyed. My bird fell dead inside of Orme's. A murmur of applause ran down
the line. "Silence in the court," thundered Judge Reeves.
We shot along for ten birds, and Orme was straight, to my nine killed.
Stevenson whispered to me once more. "Take it easy, and don't be worried
about it. It's a long road to a hundred. Don't think about your next
bird, and don't worry whether he kills his or not. Just you kill 'em
one at a time and kill each one dead. You mustn't think of anything on
earth but that one bird before you."
This was excellent advice in the game, and I nodded to him. Whatever the
cause, I was by this time perfectly calm. I was now accustomed to my
gun, and had confidence in it. I knew I could shoot to the top of my
skill, and if I were beaten it would be through no fault of my own
nerves and muscles, but through the luck of the birds or the greater
skill of the other man.
Orme went on as though he could kill a hundred straight. His time was
perfect, and his style at the trap beautiful. He shot carelessly, but
with absolute confidence, and more than half the time he did not use his
second barrel.
"Old Virginia never tires," whispered Stevenson. "He'll come back to you
before long, never fear."
But Orme made it twenty straight before he came back. Then he caught a
strong right-quarterer, which escaped altogether, apparently very
lightly hit. No one spoke a word of sympathy or exultation, but I caught
the glint of Stevenson's eye. Orme seemed not in the least disturbed.
We were now tied, but luck ran against us both for a time, since out of
the next five I missed three and Orme two, and the odds again were
against me. It stood the same at thirty, and at thirty-five. At forty
the fortune of war once more favored me, for although Orme shot like a
machine, with a grace and beauty of delivery I have never seen
surpassed, he lost one bird stone dead over the line, carried out by a
slant of the rising wind, which blew from left to right across the
field. Five birds farther on, yet another struggled over for him, and at
sixty-five I had him back of me two birds. The interest all along the
line was now intense. Stevenson later told me that they had never seen
such shooting as we were doing. For myself, it did not seem that I could
miss. I doubt not that eventually I must have won, for fate does not so
favor two men at the same hour.
We went on slowly, as such a match must, occasionally pausing to cool
our barrels, and taking full time with the loading. Following my
second's instructions perfectly, I looked neither to the right nor to
the left, not even watching Orme. I heard the confusion of low talk back
of us, and knew that a large crowd had assembled, but I did not look
toward the row of carriages, nor pay attention to the new arrivals which
constantly came in. We shot on steadily, and presently I lost a bird,
which came in sharply to the left.
The heap of dead birds, some of them still fluttering in their last
gasps, now grew larger at the side of the referee, and the negro boys
were perhaps less careful to wring the necks of the birds as they
gathered them. Occasionally a bird was tossed in such a way as to leave
a fluttering wing. Wild pigeons decoy readily to any such sign, and I
noticed that several birds, rising in such position that they headed
toward the score, were incomers, and very fast. My seventieth bird was
such, and it came straight and swift as an arrow, swooping down and
curving about with the great speed of these birds when fairly on the
wing. I covered it, lost sight of it, then suddenly realized that I must
fire quickly if I was to reach it before it crossed the score. It was so
close when I fired that the charge cut away the quills of a wing. It
fell, just inside the line, with its head up, and my gatherer pounced
upon it like a cat. The decision of the referee was prompt, but even
so, it was almost lost in the sudden stir and murmur which arose behind
us.
Some one came pushing through the crowd, evidently having sprung down
from one of the carriages. I turned to see a young girl, clad in white
lawn, a thin silver-gray veil drawn tight under her chin, who now pushed
forward through the men, and ran up to the black boy who stood with the
bird in his hand, hanging by one wing. She caught it from him, and held
it against her breast, where its blood drabbled her gown and hands. I
remember I saw one drop of blood at its beak, and remember how glad I
was that the bird was in effect dead, so that a trying scene would soon
be ended.
"Stop this at once!" cried the girl, raising an imperative hand. "Aren't
you ashamed, all of you? Look, look at this!" She held out the dying
bird in her hand. "Judge Reeves," she cried, "what are you doing there?"
Our decisive referee grew suddenly abashed. "Ah--ah, my dear young
lady--my very dear young lady," he began.
"Captain Stevenson," exclaimed the girl, whirling suddenly on my second,
"stop this at once! I'm ashamed of you."
"Now, now, my dear Miss Ellen," began Stevenson, "can't you be a good
fellow and run back home? We're off the reservation, and really--this,
you see, is a judge of the Supreme Court! We're doing nothing unlawful."
He motioned toward Judge Reeves, who looked suddenly uncomfortable.
Major Williams added his counsel. "It is a little sport between Captain
Orme and Mr. Cowles, Miss Ellen."
"Sport, great sport, isn't it?" cried the girl, holding out her drabbled
hands. "Look there"--she pointed toward the pile of dead
birds--"hundreds of these killed, for money, for sport. It _isn't_
sport. You had all these birds once, you owned them."
And there she hit a large truth, with a woman's guess, although none of
us had paused to consider it so before.
"The law, Miss Ellen," began Judge Reeves, clearing his throat, "allows
the reducing to possession of animals _feroe naturoe_, that is to say,
of wild nature, and ancient custom sanctions it."
"They were already _reduced_" she flashed. "The sport was in getting
them the first time, not in butchering them afterward."
Stevenson and Williams rubbed their chins and looked at each other. As
for me, I was looking at the girl; for it seemed to me that never in my
life had I seen one so beautiful.
Her hair, reddish brown in the sunlight, was massed up by the binding
veil, which she pushed back now from her face. Her eyes, wide and dark,
were as sad as they were angry. Tears streamed from them down her cheek,
which she did not dry. Fearless, eager, she had, without thought,
intruded where the average woman would not have ventured, and she stood
now courageously intent only upon having the way of what she felt was
right and justice. There came to me as I looked at her a curious sense
that I and all my friends were very insignificant creatures; and it was
so, I think, in sooth, she held us.
"Captain Orme," said I to my opponent, "you observe the actual Supreme
Court of America!" He bowed to me, with a questioning raising of his
eyebrows, as though he did not like to go on under the circumstances.
"I am unfortunate to lead by a bird," said I, tentatively. For some
reason the sport had lost its zest to me.
"And I being the loser as it stands," replied Orme, "do not see how I
can beg off." Yet I thought him as little eager to go on as I myself.
"Miss Ellen," said Judge Reeves, removing the hat from his white hair,
"these gentlemen desire to be sportsmen as among themselves, but of
course always gentlemen as regards the wish of ladies. Certain financial
considerations are involved, so that both feel a delicacy in regard to
making any motion looking to the altering of the original conditions of
this contract. Under these circumstances, then, appeal is taken from
this lower Court"--and he bowed very low--"to what my young friend very
justly calls the Supreme Court of the United States. Miss Ellen, it is
for you to say whether we shall resume or discontinue."
The girl bowed to Judge Reeves, and then swept a sudden hand toward
Stevenson and Williams. "Go home, all of you!" she said.
And so, in sooth, much shamefaced, we did go home, Judge of the Supreme
Court, officers of the Army, and all, vaguely feeling we had been caught
doing some ignoble thing. For my part, although I hope mawkishness no
more marks me than another, and although I made neither then nor at any
time a resolution to discontinue sports of the field, I have never since
then shot in a pigeon match, nor cared to see others do so, for it has
never again seemed to me as actual sport. I think the intuitive dictum
of the Army girl was right.
"Now _wasn't_ that like Ellen!" exclaimed Kitty, when finally we found
ourselves at her carriage--"just _like_ that girl. Just _wasn't_ it
_like_ that _girl_! To fly in the face of the Supreme Court of the
State, and all the laws of sport as well! Jack, I was keeping count,"
she held out her ivory tablets. "You'd have beaten him sure, and I
wanted to see you do it. You were one ahead, and would have made it
better in the next twenty-five. Oh, won't I talk to that girl when I see
her!"
"So that was Ellen!" I said to Kitty.
"The very same. Now you've seen her. What you think I don't know, but
what she thinks of you is pretty evident."
"You were right, Mrs. Kitty," said I. "She's desperately good looking.
But that isn't the girl I danced with last night. In the name of
Providence, let me get away from this country, for I know not what may
happen to me! No man is safe in this neighborhood of beauties."
"Let's all go home and get a bite to eat," said Stevenson, with much
common sense. "You've got glory enough just the way it stands."
So that was Ellen! And it moreover was none less than Ellen Meriwether,
daughter of my father's friend and business associate, whom I had
traveled thus far to see, and whom, as I now determined, I must meet at
the very first possible opportunity. Perhaps, then, it might very
naturally come about that--but I dismissed this very rational
supposition as swiftly as I was able.