CHAPTER VI.
CONCLUSIVE EVIDENCE.
Blunt turned sorrowfully away and began to pace slowly up and down thebank. Near at hand over a little camp-fire his coffee pot was bubblingand hissing enticingly, but even the aroma of his accustomed morningbeverage failed to attract him. What was he to do? What could he do?Ordered to remain there to escort the captain safely to Red Cloud, onhis return from the court, it was impossible to pursue. Equally unwisewould it be to send a small squad. Waller had taken his life in hishands when he rode away through the night, but he could cross theRawhide and be in comparative safety, so far as the Indian attack wasconcerned, by sunrise of this day. Now that daylight had come, Bluntwell knew that every stretch of prairie from the Platte to the WhiteRiver would be thoroughly searched by keen and eager eyes, and deathwould be the very least that any small party of whites could expect. Heknew perfectly well that already he and his little troop were beingclosely scrutinized from the distant ridges. Had he not seen in thetepees of the Cheyennes, but the week before, as many as three pairs ofbinocular field-glasses? and had not Colonel Randall told him they knewtheir use and value as well as anyone? If there was only some way ofgetting word to Captain Charlton at Laramie. There ran the single wireof the military telegraph, but there was neither office nor stationnearer than Red Cloud Agency. No man in the troop would thank him forbeing ordered to go either way with dispatches, though he knew the orderwould be obeyed. Silently and gloomily, instead of with their usualcheery alacrity, the men had got to work with their curry-combs andbrushes and were touching up their horses while waiting for their ownbreakfast; and presently Blunt's orderly came forward, holding a tincup of steaming coffee.
"Won't the lieutenant drink a little of this, sir, and try a bite ofbacon? There isn't much appetite in the troop this morning, sir, but itain't so much because the money's gone. I've known the old sergeant andthe boy nigh unto ten years now, sir, an' I never thought it would cometo this."
Blunt thanked the soldier and sat down at the edge of the rushingstream, sipping his coffee and trying to think what to do. The drinkwarmed his blood and cheered him up a trifle. Ordering his horse to besaddled, he mounted and, taking his rifle, rode through the Niobrara andout upon the open prairie on the other side. It was not long before hefound the hoof-tracks made the night before, and, without knowing why,he slowly followed them out toward the low ridge at the southwest. Forten minutes he went at a quiet walk and with downward-searching eyes ashe reached the road, striving to decide which hoof-prints were made byWaller's horse.
Suddenly, back at camp he heard the ringing report of a cavalry carbineborne on the rising breeze, and, whirling about, saw that they weresignaling to him. Putting spurs to his steed he galloped full tilt forthe ford, and then for the first time saw the cause of the excitement.Far up on the opposite slope, and jogging easily down toward the troop,came an Indian pony and an Indian rider, but not in war-paint andfeathers. As Mr. Blunt plunged through the stream he recognized theyoung half-breed scout known to all of the soldiers as "Little Bat," andBat, without a word, rode up and handed him a letter. It was from thecommanding officer at Fort Robinson, and very much to the point. It readsomewhat as follows:
"Captain Charlton telegraphs that he will be detained several days. Meantime you are needed here, as the Indians are again quitting the reservations in large numbers. Move immediately upon receipt of this."
JOGGING ALONG AT AN EASY PACE.]
That evening therefore the little troop once more rode down the valleyof the White River, the "Smoking Earth" as the Indians called it, and bysunset were camped at Red Cloud. In much distress of mind Mr. Bluntcalled upon the commanding officer to tell him of the disappearance ofthe money and his trumpeter, and to ask the colonel's advice as to theproper course for him to pursue. It was agreed that telegrams should besent at once to the captain at Fort Laramie and to the commandingofficer at Sidney barracks on the railway, notifying them of the crimeand the desertion. Blunt begged for a moment's delay until he could hearfrom Sergeant Graham, whom he had sent to make certain investigations,and long before tattoo the sergeant came--and with him the hospitalsteward.
"Lieutenant, the store-keeper says he sold just such a handkerchief asthat to Trumpeter Waller last week, and the steward can tell about thechloroform."
Both officers looked inquiringly at the steward.
"Yes, sir, it was pay day that young Waller handed me a penciled notefrom Sergeant Graham, saying that he had a bad tooth-ache and asking fora little chloroform, and I gave it to him."
"I never wrote such a note, sir, and never sent him on such a message,"said Graham.