CHAPTER XIV

  A VANISHED HEROINE

  Within forty-eight hours of the coming of Trooper Kennedy with his"rush" despatches to Fort Frayne, the actors in our little drama hadbecome widely separated. Webb and his sturdy squadron, including Ray andsuch of his troop as still had mounts and no serious wounds, weremarching straight on for the Dry Fork of the Powder. They were twohundred fighting men; and, although the Sioux had now three times thatmany, they had learned too much of the shooting powers of these seasonedtroopers, and deemed it wise to avoid close contact. The Indian fightswell, man for man, when fairly cornered, but at other times he is notrue sportsman. He asks for odds of ten to one, as when he wiped outCuster on the "Greasy Grass," or Fetteman at Fort Phil Kearny,--as whenhe tackled the Gray Fox,--General Crook--on the Rosebud, and Sibley'slittle party among the pines of the Big Horn. Ray's plucky followers hadshot viciously and emptied far too many saddles for Indian equanimity.It might be well in any event to let Webb's squadron through and waitfor further accessions from the agencies at the southeast, or the big,turbulent bands of Uncapapas and Minneconjous at Standing Rock, or theCheyennes along the Yellowstone.

  So back went Lame Wolf and his braves, bearing Stabber with them,flitting northward again toward the glorious country beyond the"Chakadee," and on went Webb, with Blake, Gregg, Ray and their juniors,with Tracy to take care of such as might be wounded on the way; and,later still, the old post surgeon reached the Elk with guards andhospital attendants, and on the morrow row began his homeward march withthe dead and wounded,--a sad and solemn little procession. Only twentymiles he had to go, but it took long hours, so few were the ambulances,so rough the crossings of the ravines; and, not until near nightfall wasthe last of the wounded,--Lieutenant Field,--borne in the arms ofpitying soldiers into the old post hospital, too far gone with fever,exhaustion and some strong mental excitement to know or care that hisstrange plea had been, perforce, disregarded;--to know or care laterthat the general himself, the commander they loved and trusted, wasbending over him at dawn the following day. Ordering forward allavailable troops from the line of the railway, "the Chief" had stoppedat Laramie only long enough for brief conference with the postcommander; then, bidding him come on with all his cavalry, had pushedahead for Frayne. It couldn't be a long campaign, perhaps, with winterclose at hand, but it would be a lively one. Of that the chief felt wellassured.

  Now, there was something uncanny about this outbreak on the part of theSioux, and the general was puzzled. Up to September the Indians had beenbusy with the annual hunt. They were fat, well-fed, prosperous,--had gotfrom the government pretty much everything that they could ask with anyshow of reason and, so they said, had been promised more. The rowsbetween the limited few of their young men and some bullies among the"rustlers" had been no more frequent nor serious than on previoussummers, when matters had been settled without resort to arms; but thisyear the very devil seemed to have got into the situation. Something, orprobably somebody, said the general, had been stirring the Indians up,exciting--exhorting possibly, and almost the first thing the general didas he climbed stiffly out of his stout Concord wagon, in the palingstarlight of the early morning, was to turn to Dade, now commanding thepost, and to say he should like, as soon as possible, to see Bill Hay.Meantime he wished to go in and look at the wounded.

  It was not yet five o'clock, but Dr. Waller was up and devoting himselfto the needs of his patients, and Dade had coffee ready for the generaland his single aide-de-camp, but not a sip would the general take untilhe had seen the stricken troopers. He knew Field by reputation, well andfavorably. He had intimately known Field's father in the old days, inthe old army, when they served together on the then wild Pacific shores"where rolls the Oregon." The great civil war had divided them, forField had cast his soldier fortune with his seceding State, but all thatwas a thing of the past. Here was the son, a loyal soldier of the flagthe father had again sworn allegiance to when he took his seat in theHouse of Representatives. The general thought highly of Field, and wassore troubled at his serious condition. He knew what despatches would becoming from the far South when the telegraph line began the busyclicking of the morning. He was troubled to find the lad in high feverand to hear that he had been out of his head. He was more than troubledat the concern, and something like confusion, in the old doctor's face.

  "You don't think him dangerously wounded, do you?" he asked.

  "Not dangerously, general," was the reply. "It's--well, he seems to havesomething on his mind." And more than this the doctor would not say. Itwas not for him to tell the chief what Webb had confided ere he left thepost--that most of the currency for which Field was accountable was somuch waste paper. Field lay muttering and tossing in restless misery,unconscious most of the time, and sleeping only when under the influenceof a strong narcotic. Dade, with sadness and constraint apparent in hismanner, hung back and did not enter the bare hospital room where, withonly a steward in attendance, the young soldier lay. The doctor had gonewith the general to the bedside, but the captain remained out of earshotat the door.

  First call for reveille was just sounding on the infantry bugles as thetrio came forth. "I have sent for Hay already, general," Dade wassaying, as they stood on the wooden veranda overlooking the valley ofthe murmuring river; "but will you not come now and have coffee? He canjoin us over at my quarters."

  Already, however, the orderly was hurrying back. They met him when nothalf way over to the line of officers' quarters. The few men for duty inthe two companies of infantry, left to guard the post, were gathering inlittle groups in front of their barracks, awaiting the sounding of theassembly. They knew the chief at a glance, and were curiously watchinghim as he went thoughtfully pacing across the parade by the side of thetemporary commander. They saw the orderly coming almost at a run fromthe direction of the guard-house, saw him halt and salute, evidentlymaking some report, but they could not guess what made him so suddenlystart and run at speed toward the southward bluff, the direction of thetrader's corral and stables, while Captain Dade whirled about andsignalled Sergeant Crabb, of the cavalry, left behind in charge of thefew custodians of the troop barracks. Crabb, too, threw dignity to thewinds, and ran at the beck of his superior officer.

  "Have you two men who can ride hard a dozen miles or so--and carry outtheir orders?" was the captain's sharp demand.

  "Certainly, sir," answered Crabb, professionally resentful that suchquestion should be asked of men of the ----th Cavalry.

  "Send two to report to me at once, mounted. Never mind breakfast."

  And by this time, apparently, the chief, the post commander and possiblyeven the aide-de-camp had forgotten about the waiting coffee. They stillstood there where they had halted in the centre of the parade. Thedoctor, coming from hospital, was signalled to and speedily joined them.The bugle sounded, the men mechanically formed ranks and answered totheir names, all the while watching from the corner of their eyes thegroup of officers, now increased by two infantry subalterns, LieutenantsBruce and Duncan, who raised their caps to the preoccupied general, suchsalutation being then a fashion, not a regulation of the service, andstood silently awaiting instructions, for something of consequence wassurely at hand. Then the orderly again appeared, returning from hismission, out of breath and speaking with difficulty.

  "Craps--I mean the Frenchman, sir, says it was after four, perhaps halfpast, when they started, Pete drivin'. He didn't see who was in it.'Twas the covered buckboard he took, sir--the best one."

  And then, little by little, it transpired that Hay, the post trader whomthe general had need to see, had taken his departure by way of theRawlins road, and without so much as a whisper of his purpose to anyone.

  "I knew he had thought of going. He told Major Webb so," said Dade,presently. "But that was before the outbreak assumed proportions. He hadgiven up all idea of it yesterday and so told me."

  "Has anything happened to--start him since then?" demanded the beardedgeneral, after a moment's thought.


  Dade and the doctor looked into each other's eyes, and the latter turnedaway. It was not his affair.

  "W-ell, something has happened, general," was Dade's slow, constrainedreply. "If you will step this way--I'll see you later, gentlemen--" thisto his subalterns--"I'll explain as far as I can."

  And while Dr. Waller fell back and walked beside the aide-de-camp,gladly leaving to the post commander the burden of a trying explanation,the general, slowly pacing by the captain's side, gave ear to his story.

  "Hay cleaned up quite a lot of money," began the veteran, "and hadintended starting it to Cheyenne when this Indian trouble broke out. Thecourier reached us during the night, as you know, and the major orderedRay to start at dawn and Field to go with him."

  "Why, I thought Field was post adjutant!" interposed the general.

  "He was, but--well--I beg you to let Major Webb give you his ownreasons, general," faltered Dade, sorely embarrassed. "He decided thatField should go----"

  "He _asked_ to go, I suppose--It runs in the blood," said the general,quickly, with a keen look from his blue-gray eyes.

  "I think not, sir; but you will see Webb within a few days and he willtell you all about it. What I know is this, that Field was ordered to goand that he gave the major an order on Hay for two packages containingthe money for which he was accountable. Field and Wilkins had had afalling out, and, instead of putting the cash in the quartermaster'ssafe, Field kept it at Hay's. At guard mounting Hay brought the packageto the major, who opened both in presence of the officers of the day.Each package was supposed to contain three or four hundred dollars.Neither contained twenty. Some paper slips inserted between five dollarbills made up the packages. Field was then far to the north and pastconferring with. Hay was amazed and distressed--said that someone musthave duplicate keys of his safe as well as of his stables."

  "Why the stables?" asked the chief, pausing at the gate and studying thetroubled face of the honored soldier he so well knew and so fullytrusted. He was thinking, too, how this was not the first occasion thatthe loss of public money had been hidden for the time in just thatway--slips inserted between good currency.

  "Because it transpires that some of his horses were out that very nightwithout his consent or ken. No one for a moment, to my knowledge, hasconnected Field with the loss of the money. Hay thought, however, itthrew suspicion on _him_, and was mightily upset."

  "Then his sudden departure at this time, without a word to anybodylooks--odd," said the general, thoughtfully. "But _he_ had no need ofmoney. He's one of the wealthiest men in Wyoming. And she--hiswife,--needs nothing. He gives her all she can possibly want." By thistime they were at the door. A lamp still burned dimly in the hallway,and Dade blew it out, as he ushered the general into the cosily lighteddining-room.

  "You'll excuse Mrs. Dade and Esther, I hope, sir. They are not yetup--quite overcome by anxiety and excitement,--there's been a lot aboutFrayne the last two days.--Take this chair, General. Coffee will beserved at once. No, sir, as you say, the Hays have no need of money--heand his wife, that is."

  "But you suspect--whom?" asked the general, the blue-gray eyes intent onthe troubled face before him, for Dade's very hesitancy told of someuntold theory. The doctor and the aide had taken seats at the other endof the table and dutifully engaged in low-toned conversation.

  "That is a hard question for me to answer, General," was the answer. "Ihave no right to suspect anybody. We had no time to complete theinvestigation. There are many hangers-on, you know, about Hay's store,and indeed, his house. Then his household, too, has been increased, asperhaps you did not know. Mrs. Hay's niece--a very brilliant youngwoman--is visiting them, and she and Field rode frequently together."

  The general's face was a study. The keen eyes were reading Dade as askilled physician would interpret the symptoms of a complicated case."How old--and what is she like, Dade?" he asked.

  "The women can answer that better than I, sir. They say she must betwenty-four;--Mrs. Hay says nineteen--She is very dark and veryhandsome--at times. Most of our young men seem to think so, at least.She certainly rides and dances admirably, and Mr. Field was constantlyher partner."

  The general began to see light. "Field was constantly with her, was he?Riding just by themselves or with others when they went out?" he asked.

  "By themselves, sir. I doubt if any other of our equestriennes wouldcare to ride at her pace. She rather outstrips them all. The major toldme they seemed to go--well, every time he saw them, at least,--up toStabber's village, and that was something he disapproved of, though Idare say she was simply curious to see an Indian village, as an Easterngirl might be."

  "Possibly," said the general. "And what did you tell me--she is Mrs.Hay's niece? I don't remember _his_ having any niece when they were atLaramie in '66, though I knew something of Mrs. Hay, who was then but ashort time married. She spoke Sioux and _patois_ French better thanEnglish in those days. What is the young lady's name?"

  "Miss Flower, sir. Nanette Flower."

  The chief dropped his head on his hand and reflected. "It's a goodtwenty years, and I've been knocking about all over the West since then,but, I'd like to see Mrs. Hay and that young woman, Dade, whether weoverhaul Bill or not. I must go on to Beecher at once."

  "You will wait for the cavalry from Laramie, will you not, sir?" askedthe captain, anxiously.

  "I can't. I'll get a bath and breakfast and forty winks later; then seeMrs. Hay and Bill, if he is back. They ought to catch him before hereaches Sage Creek. There are your couriers now," he added, at the soundof spurred heels on the front piazza.

  The captain stepped forth into the hallway. A trooper stood at the frontdoor, his hand lifted in salute. Another, in saddle, and holding thereins of his comrade's horse, was at the gate. A rustle of femininedrapery swept downward from the upper floor, and Dade glanced up, halfdreading to see Esther's face. But it was his wife who peered over thebalustrade. "I shall be down in ten minutes," she said, in low tone."Esther is sleeping at last. How did--he--seem this morning?"

  "Sleeping, too, but only fitfully. Dr. Waller is here," and then Dadewould have ended the talk. He did not wish to speak further of Field orhis condition. But she called again, low-toned, yet dominant, as is manya wife in and out of the army.

  "Surely you are not letting the general start with only two men!"

  "No, he goes by and by." And again Dade would have escaped to thepiazza, but once again she held him.

  "Then where are you sending these?"

  "After Mr. Hay. He--made an early start--not knowing perhaps, thegeneral was coming."

  "Start!" she cried, all excitement now. "Start!--Start for where?" andthe dressing sacque in aspen-like agitations came in full view at thehead of the stairs.

  "Rawlins, I suppose. I don't know what it means."

  "But _I_ do!" exclaimed his better half, in emotion uncontrollable. "_I_do! It means that she has _made_ him,--that _she_ has gone, too--I meanNanette Flower!"