The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop

"I flanked them." His face relaxed into humor. "Discretion is a sort of valor sometimes. I took the Willow road."

Lawson now joined them, and in his hand-clasp was a brother's regard for the soldier. His smile was exultant. "Good work! I knew Calvin could be trusted. It looked bad for Cut Finger when we reached the half-way house."

"You must be hungry!" exclaimed Elsie. "Sit here and I will order something for you."

"I was hungry an hour ago," he said, meaningly, "but now I am not. But I am tired," he added. "Where are the Parkers?"

Elsie laughed. "On their way to civilization. They fled on the up-train."

"The town is aflame," said Lawson. "You and your Tetongs are an issue here to-night. A big meeting is called, and the Senator is to speak. He has just discovered you," he added, glancing towards Brisbane, who had risen and was glaring at Curtis, his small eyes hot as those of an angry bear.

"Excuse me, won't you?" pleaded Elsie, rising hastily. "I must go to him!"

Curtis also rose and looked soberly into her eyes. "May I not see you again?"

She hesitated. "Yes. I'm not going to the meeting. Come to our parlor when you are finished supper."

He remained standing till she joined her father and passed from the room, then he turned towards Lawson, who said:

"Seriously, my dear Curtis, you are in danger here. I hope you will not go out this evening. Even Uncle Sam's blue might not prove a protection in the dark of a night like this. Where did you house your men?"

"At Ladue's, with orders not to leave the corral."

"Quite right. Where is the sheriff?"

This question brought a humorous light into the young soldier's eyes. "When I saw him last he was on Sage-hen Flat swinging his revolver and cursing me," and he told the story.

Lawson grew grave. "I'm sorry you had to do that; it will give your enemies another grip on you. It's a mere technicality, of course, but they'll use it. You must watch every one of your clerks from this on; they'll trump up a charge against you if they can, and secure a court-martial. This election is really the last dying struggle of the political banditti of the State, and they will be defeated. Take to-night as an example. The reckless devils, the loud of mouth are alone in evidence, the better class of citizens dare not protest – dare not appear on the streets. But don't be deceived, you have your supporters even here, in the midst of this saturnalia of hate. You are an issue."

Curtis grimly smiled. "I accept the challenge! They can only order me back to my regiment."

"As for Brisbane, he is on the point of collapse. He has lost his self-control. He has attained a fixed notion that you are his most dangerous enemy; the mention of your name throws him into fury. I lost patience with him to-day, and opened fire. 'You are doomed to defeat!' I said to him. 'You represent the ignoble, greedy, conscienceless hustler and speculator, not the peaceful, justice-loving citizen of this State. Your dominion is gone; the reign of order and peace is about to begin.' If it were not for Elsie I would publicly denounce him, for his election would work incalculable injury to the West. But he can't fill the legislature with his men as he did twelve years ago. He will fail of election by fifty votes."

"I hope so," responded Curtis, with a sigh, as Lawson rose. "But I have no faith in the courage of the better element; virtue is so timid and evil is always so fully organized."

After Lawson left him Curtis hurriedly finished his supper and went his way to his room for a moment's rest. Through the open windows he could hear the cheering which greeted Brisbane's entrance into the opera-house, which faced upon the little square before the hotel. The street was thronging with noisy boys, and at intervals a band of young herders clattered into the square. Their horses thickened along the hitching-poles, and the saloons swarmed with men already inflamed with drink. The air seemed heavy, oppressive, electrical, and the shrill cheers which rose above the dull rumble of pounding boot-heels in the hall possessed a savage animal vehemence. Again a sense of impending disaster swept over the young officer. "I am tired and nervous," he thought. "Surely law and order rules in a civilized community like this."

He put away all thoughts of war as he followed the boy up the stair-way to the Brisbane private parlor, and became the lover, palpitant with the hope that he was about to see Elsie alone.

She met him at the door, her face a-quiver with feeling, a note of alarm in her voice. "Have you heard the cheering? They are denouncing you over there!"

"I suppose so. But let's not talk of such unimportant matters; this is our last evening together, and I want to forget the storm outside. Since I left you last night I have had a most remarkable experience, and I – "

"Oh, you mean catching the murderer; tell me about it!"

"No. Oh no; that is not worth telling. I mean something more intimately personal." Shrill yells from across the way interrupted him, and Elsie rose and shut the window. "I hate them; they are worse than savages," she said. "Please don't mind them."

He went on: "I was about to say I had a deal of time to think on my long ride this morning, and I reached some conclusions which I want to tell you about. When my prisoner was safe in the guard-house, I went over to see how my little temple of art looked – I mean your studio, of course. I closed the door and dropped into one of the big chairs, hoping to gain rest and serenity in the beauty and quiet of the place. But I didn't; I was painfully depressed."

She opened her eyes very wide at this. "Why?"

"Because everything I saw there emphasized the irrevocable loss I had suffered. I couldn't endure the thought of it, and I fled. I could not remain without weeping, and you know a man is ashamed of his tears; but when I got your note of warning I flung conscience to the winds! 'It is not a crime to love a woman,' I said. 'I will write to her and say to her "I love you, no matter what happens;"' and, now I find you here, I tell it to you instead of writing it."

She was facing him with a look of perplexity and alarm. One hand laid upon her throat seemed to express suffering. When she spoke her voice was very low.

"What do you expect me to say; you make it so hard for me! Why do you tell me this?"

"Because I could not rest till I had spoken. For a long time I thought you were bound to Lawson, and since then I've tried to keep silent because of my poverty and – no one knows better than I the unreason of it all – I do not ask you to speak except to say, 'I am sorry.' When I found you were still within reach, the desire to let you know my feeling overcame every other consideration. I can't even do the customary thing and ask you to wait, for my future is as uncertain as my present, but if you could say you loved me – a little – " he paused abruptly, as though choked into silence by a merciless hand.

Elsie remained silent, with her eyes turned towards the window, her hands in her lap, and at last he went on:

"If your father is a true prophet, I shall be ordered back to my regiment. That will hurt me, but it won't ruin me exactly. It would be a shameful thing if the department sacrificed me to expediency; but politicians are wonderful people! If you were not so much an artist and Andrew Brisbane's daughter, I would ask you to come to me and help me do my work, but I can't quite do that – yet; I can only say you are more to me now than any other soul in the world. I do this because I can't keep from it," he repeated, in poor ending.

"I've heard that the best way to make a woman love a man is to persecute the man," she replied, smiling a little, though her eyes were wet. "When you were apparently triumphant I hated you – now – " she hesitated and a sudden timidity shook her.

He sprang up. "Can you carry out the figure? I dare you to finish the sentence. Do you care for me a little?" His face, suddenly illuminated, moved her powerfully.

"I'm afraid I do – wait, please!" She stopped him with a gesture. "You mustn't think I mean more than I do. My mind is all in a whirl now; it isn't fair to hurry me; I must take time to consider. Your being poor and an Indian agent wouldn't make any difference to me if I – But I must be sure. I respect you – I admire you very much – and last night when I said good-bye I felt a sharp pain here." She put her hand to her throat. "But I must be sure. There are so many things against it," she ended, covering her eyes with her hand in piteous perplexity.

His eyes were alight, his voice eager. "It would be such a glorious thing if you could join me in my work."

The mention of his work stung her. "Oh no! It is impossible. I should die here! I have no sense of duty towards these poor vagabonds. I'm sorry for them – but to live here – no, no! You must not ask it. You must go your way and I will go mine. You are only torturing me needlessly."

"Forgive me," he pleaded. "I did not mean to do so."

She continued, wildly: "Can't you see how crazy, how impossible, it is? I admire you – I believe in your work – it is magnificent; but I can't live your life. My friends, my art, mean too much to me."

There was a tremulous, passionate pleading which failed of finality: it perplexed her lover; it did not convince him.

"You are right; of course you are right," he said again; "but that does not help me to bear the pain of your loss. I can't let you go out of my life – utterly – I can't do it – I will not – Hark! What is that?"

A faint, far-off, thundering sound interrupted him. A rushing roar, as of many horsemen rapidly approaching. Hastening to the window, Curtis bent his head to listen. "It sounds like a cavalry charge. Here they come! Cowboys – a mob of them! Can it be Yarpe's gang? Yes; that is precisely what it is. Yarpe leading them into some further deviltry."

Whooping and cursing, and urging their tired horses with quirt and spur, the desperadoes, somewhat thinned of ranks, pouring by in clattering, pounding rush – as orderless as a charging squad of Sioux warriors – turned up a side street and disappeared almost before any one but Curtis was aware of them.

"They are bent on mischief," said the soldier as he turned upon the girl, all personal feeling swept away by the passing mob. "They have followed me in to force the jail and hang Cut Finger." He caught up his cap. "I must prevent it!"

"No! No!" cried Elsie, seizing his arm. "You must not go out in the street to-night – they will kill you – please don't go – you have done your duty. Now let the mayor act, I beg of you!"

"Dear girl, I must thwart this lynching party. I would be disgraced! Don't you see? They have seized the moment when the citizens are all in the hall away from the jail to do this thing. I must alarm the town and prevent them."

Even as he pleaded with her the tumult in the hall broke forth again, roared for a moment in wild crescendo, and then ceased instantly, strangely. A moment's silence followed, and a confused murmur arose, quite different from any sound which had hitherto emanated from the hall. A powerful voice dominated all others, and through the open windows the words of command could be distinctly heard. "Keep back there! Keep your seats!"

"The meeting is breaking up!" exclaimed Curtis. "Some one has alarmed them. See, they are pouring out to prevent this crazy mob from carrying out its plan."

The shouting ceased, but the trample of feet and the murmur of voices thickened to a clamor, and Elsie turned white with a new fear. "They are rushing across the square! Perhaps they are coming for you!"

"I don't think so; they would not dare to attack me – they hate me, but – "

Her over-wrought nerves gave way. A panic seized her. "Hide! Hide! They will kill you!" she cried out, hoarsely.

"No; I am going to help them defend the jail."

"For my sake!" she pleaded, "don't leave me! Listen! they are coming!" she whispered. The sound of many feet could be heard in the lobby below, the roar of a hundred voices came up the stair-way, but even the excited girl could now detect something hushed and solemn in the sound – something mournful in the measured footsteps up the stairs.

"It is father!" she cried, with a flash of divination. "Something has happened to him!" And with this new terror in her face she hurried out into the hall.

Curtis reached her side just as the head of the procession topped the stair-way.

Brisbane, up-borne by Lawson and a tall young stranger, first appeared, followed by a dozen men, who walked two and two with bared heads and serious faces, as if following a hearse. The stricken man's face was flushed and knobby, and his eyelids drooped laxly like those of a drunkard. He saw nothing, and his breathing was labored.

"Father, what has happened?" called Elsie. "Tell me – quick!"

"A touch of vertigo," answered Lawson, soothingly. "The doctor says nothing serious."

"Are you the doctor?" she turned to the young man.

"Yes. Don't be alarmed. The Senator has over-taxed himself a little, that is all, and needs rest. Show me his bed, and we will make him comfortable."

Elsie led the way to the bedroom, while Curtis stood helplessly facing the crowd in the hall. Lawson relieved the situation by coming out a few moments later to say:

"Gentlemen, the doctor thanks you, and requests you to leave the Senator to rest as quietly as possible."

After this dismissal had dispersed the on-lookers, Lawson turned to Curtis. "The old man's work as a speaker is done. Rather tragic business, don't you think? He was assailing you with the utmost bitterness. His big, right fist was in the air like a hammer when he fell; but it was his last effort."

Curtis seized his hand and said: "I envy you your chance to go with her and serve her." His voice changed. "The mob! Did you hear Yarpe and his men pass?"

"No; when?"

"Not ten minutes ago. I fear some mischief."

The doctor appeared. "Mr. Lawson, a moment."

As Lawson hurried into the sick-room a far-off, faint volley of pistol-shots broke the hush that had settled over the square. Distant yells succeeded, accompanied by a sound as of some giant hammering. The young soldier lifted his head like a young lion listening to a battle-call. "They are beating in the gates!" he said. For a moment he hesitated, but only for a moment. "She is safe!" he thought, with a glance towards Elsie's door. "My man and the poor little wife are not," and he rushed down the stair-way and out into the street with intent to find and defend his faithful men.

XXXIII

ELSIE CONFESSES HER LOVE

As he paused on the steps to the hotel, a gust of bitter rage swept over him. "What can I do against this implacable town? Oh, for a squad of the boys in blue!"

The street and square were filled with men all running, as to a fire, from left to right – a laughing, jesting throng. Along the hitching-poles excited and jocular cowboys were loosing their ponies and leaping to their saddles. Some excitable citizen had begun to ring the fire-bell, and women, bareheaded and white with fear, were lining the sidewalks and leaning from windows. The town resembled an ant-hill into which a fleeing bison has planted a foot.

"Oh, sir!" cried one young mother as she caught sight of Curtis, "are the Injuns coming?"

"No," he replied, bitterly, "these marauders are not Indians; they are noble citizens," and set off at a run towards the corral in which Two Horns and Crow were camped. The tumult behind him grew fainter, and at last died to a murmur, and only one or two houses showed a light.

Ladue's was an old ranch on the river, around which the town of Pinon had for twenty years been slowly growing. The cabin was of stone, low and strong, and two sides of it formed the corner of a low corral of cottonwood logs. In this enclosure teamsters (for two bits) were allowed to camp and feed their horses. A rickety gate some fifty feet south of the house stood ajar, and Curtis entered the yard, calling sharply for Crow Wing and Two Horns. No one replied. Searching the stalls, he found the blankets wherein they had lain, but the tumult had undoubtedly called them forth into danger.

Hurrying to the house, he knocked most vigorously at the door – to no effect. The shack was also empty. Closing the door with a slam, the young officer, now thoroughly alarmed, turned back towards the hotel. A vast, confused clamor, growing each moment louder, added edge to his apprehension. The crowd was evidently returning from the jail, jubilant and remorseless. Upon reaching the corner of the square Curtis turned to the left, with the design of encircling it, hoping to find the two redmen looking on from a door-way on the outskirts of the throng.

He had crossed but one side of the plaza, when a band of cowboys dashed in from the opposite corner with swinging lariats, whooping shrilly, in close pursuit of a flying footman. A moment later a rope looped, the fugitive fell and the horsemen closed round him in joyous clamor, like dogs around a fox.

With a fear that this was one of his men, Curtis raised a great shout, but his voice was lost in the rush and roar of the throng pouring in towards the fugitive. In fierce rage he rushed straight towards the whirling mass of horsemen, but before he had passed half the intervening space a horseman circled the pavilion, and the popping of a revolver, swift yet with deliberate pauses, began. Wild yells broke forth, the pursuers scattered, other revolvers began to crack, and as the press of horsemen reeled back, Curtis perceived Calvin, dismounted and bareheaded, with his back against the wall of the little wooden band-stand, defiant, a revolver in each hand, holding the mob at bay, while over his head a light sputtered and sizzled.

A lane seemed to open for Curtis as he ran swiftly in towards the writhing, ensnared captive on the ground. It was Two Horns, struggling with the ropes which bound him, and just as his Little Father bent over him the big Tetong freed himself, and, with a sliding rush, entered the shadow by Calvin's side. Instantly his revolver began to speak.

Curtis, left alone in the full light of the lamp on the pavilion, raised his arms and shouted: "Hold! Cease firing!" The crowd recognized him and fell silent. The army blue subdued them, and those who had done the shooting began to edge away.

For a moment the young soldier could not speak, so furious was he, but at last he found words: "Cowards! Is this your way of fighting – a hundred to one? Where is your mayor? Have you no law in this town?" He turned to Calvin, who stood still, leaning against the pavilion. "Are you hurt?"

Calvin lifted one dripping hand. "I reckon I'm punched a few. My right arm feels numb, and the blood is fillin' my left boot. But I'm all here, sure thing." But even as he spoke he reeled. Curtis caught him; he smiled apologetically: "That left leg o' mine, sure feels like a hitchin'-post; reckon some one must o' clipped a nerve somewhere."

Two Horns seized him by the other arm, just as Winters blustered into the circle. "What's going on here; who's doin' this shootin'?"

"This is a good time to ask that," remarked Curtis. "Where were you twenty minutes ago?"

Calvin struggled to get his right hand free. "Let me have a crack at the beast!" he pleaded. "I saw you," he said to Winters: "you were in the lynching crowd, you sneak! You hung round in the shadow like a coyote."

Curtis tried to calm him. "Come, this won't do, Calvin; you are losing blood and must have a doctor; come to the hotel."

As they half-carried him away the young rancher snarled back, like a wounded wolf: "I disown the whole cowardly pack of ye; I put my mark on some of ye, too."

The crowd was now so completely with Calvin that Winters hastened to explain: "Cal is my deputy; he was acting inside his duty! He was trying to keep the peace and you had no business fightin'," and proceeded to arrest some fairly innocent by-standers, while the wounded desperadoes were being swiftly hidden away by their friends, and the remaining citizens of the town talked of what should have been done.

Calvin continued to explain as they hurried him through the excited throng. "I tried to stand 'em off at the jail," he said, "but I couldn't get near enough; my cayuse was used up. Oh, you was there!" he called to a tall man with a new sombrero, "I saw you, Bill Vawney, and I'll get you for it; I've spotted you!"

He was enraged through every fibre of his strong, young body, and only the iron grip of the persistent men kept him from doing battle.

As they neared the hotel, Curtis, looking up, glimpsed Elsie's white face at the window and waved his cap at her. She clapped her hands in joy of his return, but did not smile. The hotel lobby was packed with a silent mass of men, but the landlord, with authoritative voice, called out: "Clear the way, gentlemen!" and a lane opened for them. "Right in here," he added, and led the way to the parlor bedroom. The Captain and Calvin were now most distinguished of citizens; nothing was too good for them.

"Bring a physician," said Curtis.

"Right here," replied a cool, clear voice, and Doctor Philipps stepped to Calvin's side and relieved Two Horns.

The young rancher sank down on the bed limply, but smiled as he explained: "I'm only singed a little, doc. They had me foul. You see, I was in the light, but I handed one or two of them something they didn't like. I left a keepsake with 'em. They won't forget me soon."

The physician pressed him back upon the bed and began to strip his clothes from him. "Be quiet for five minutes and I'll have you in shape. We must close up your gashes."

Curtis, relieved of part of his anxiety, then asked: "How is the Senator?"

"Pretty comfortable; no danger."

"Don't leave me, Major," called Calvin, as Curtis turned away to seek Elsie. "Don't let this chap cut me up. I'm no centipede. I need all my legs."

There was genuine pleading in the boy's voice, and Curtis came back and took a chair near him while the doctor probed the wounds and dressed them. The officer's heart was very tender towards the reckless, warm-hearted young rancher as he watched his face whiten and the lips stiffen in the effort to conceal his pain. "Calvin, you've been loyal all through," he said, "and we won't forget it."

At last, when the wounds were bandaged and the worst of the pain over, Curtis turned to Two Horns and signed:

"Where is Crow and the wife of Cut Finger?"

"I do not know."

"I will go find him; you remain here. Do not fear; you are safe now. Sit down by Calvin's bed. You will sleep here to-night."

As he made his way through the close-packed mass of excited men in the lobby and before the hotel, Curtis met no hostile face. It seemed that all men were become his friends, and eager to disclaim any share in the mob's action. He put their proffered hands aside and hurried back to Ladue's, which he found close-barred and dark.

"Who's there?" called a shaking voice as he knocked.

"Captain Curtis. Where is Crow?"

"In here!" was the answer, in joyful voice. As he opened the door, Ladue reached his hand to the agent. "My God, I'm glad it is you! I was afraid you'd been wiped out. Where is Two Horns?"

Crow, with his revolver still gripped in his hand, stepped forward, his face quivering with emotion. "Little Father, it is good to see you; you are not hurt? Where is Two Horns?"

"Safe in the big house with me. The evil white men are gone; you will camp here, you and the wife of Cut Finger," he signed as he saw the cowering form of the little wife.

Ladue, a big, hulking, pock-marked half-breed, began to grin. "I was a-scared; I sure was. I thought we was all goin' to hang. Old Bill Yarpe was out for game."

"The better citizens are in control now," replied Curtis. "You are safe, but you'd better remain in the house till morning."

As Curtis made his way through the crowd some one raised a cheer for "Major Curtis," and the cry was taken up by a hundred voices. Indignant citizens shouted: "We'll stand by you, Major. We'll see justice done."

Curtis, as he reached the stair-way, turned and coldly said: "Make your words good. For four days a mob of two hundred armed men have menaced the lives of my employés and my wards, and you did nothing to prevent them. I am glad to see you appreciate the horror and the disgrace of this night's doings. If you mean what you say, let no guilty man escape. Make this night the memorable end of lawlessness in your country."