_PART III_
ON THE LITTLE BIG HORN
CHAPTER I
MR. HAMPTON RESOLVES
Mr. Bob Hampton stood in the bright sunshine on the steps of the hotel,his appreciative gaze wandering up the long, dusty, unoccupied street,and finally rising to the sweet face of the young girl who occupied thestep above. As their eyes met both smiled as if they understood eachother. Except for being somewhat pale, the result of long, inactiveweeks passed indoors, Mr. Hampton's appearance was that of perfecthealth, while the expression of his face evidenced the joy of living.
"There is nothing quite equal to feeling well, little girl," he said,genially, patting her hand where it rested on the railing, "and Ireally believe I am in as fine fettle now as I ever have been. Do youknow, I believe I 'm perfectly fit to undertake that little detectiveoperation casually mentioned to you a few days ago. It 's got to bedone, and the sooner I get at it the easier I'll feel. Fact is, I putin a large portion of the night thinking out my plans."
"I wish you would give it up all together, Bob," she said, anxiously."I shall be so dull and lonely here while you are gone."
"I reckon you will, for a fact, as it's my private impression thatlovely Miss Spencer does n't exert herself over much to be entertainingunless there happens to be a man in sight. Great guns! how she didfling language the last time she blew in to see me! But, Naida, itisn't likely this little affair will require very long, and things arelots happier between us since my late shooting scrape. For one thing,you and I understand each other better; then Mrs. Herndon has beenquite decently civil. When Fall comes I mean to take you East and putyou in some good finishing school. Don't care quite as much about itas you did, do you?"
"Yes, I think I do, Bob." She strove bravely to express enthusiasm."The trouble is, I am so worried over your going off alone huntingafter that man."
He laughed, his eyes searching her face for the truth. "Well, littlegirl, he won't exactly be the first I 've had call to go after.Besides, this is a particular case, and appeals to me in a sort ofpersonal way. It you only knew it, you're about as deeply concerned inthe result as I am, and as for me, I can never rest easy again untilthe matter is over with."
"It's that awful Murphy, is n't it?"
"He's the one I'm starting after first, and one sight at his right handwill decide whether he is to be the last as well."
"I never supposed you would seek revenge, like a savage," she remarked,quietly. "You never used to be that way."
"Good Lord, Naida, do you think I 'm low down enough to go out huntingthat poor cuss merely to get even with him for trying to stick me witha knife? Why, there are twenty others who have done as much, and wehave been the best of friends afterwards. Oh, no, lassie, it meansmore than that, and harks back many a long year. I told you I saw amark on his hand I would never forget--but I saw that mark firstfifteen years ago. I 'm not taking my life in my hand to revenge thekilling of Slavin, or in any memory of that little misunderstandingbetween the citizens of Glencaid and myself. I should say not. I havebeen slashed at and shot at somewhat promiscuously during the last fiveyears, but I never permitted such little affairs to interfere witheither business, pleasure, or friendship. If this fellow Murphy, orwhoever the man I am after may prove to be, had contented himself withendeavoring playfully to carve me, the account would be consideredclosed. But this is a duty I owe a friend, a dead friend, to run toearth this murderer. Do you understand now? The fellow who did thatshooting up at Bethune fifteen years ago had the same sort of a mark onhis right hand as this one who killed Slavin. That's why I'm afterhim, and when I catch up he'll either squeal or die. He won't be verylikely to look on the matter as a joke."
"But how do you know?"
"I never told you the whole story, and I don't mean to now until I comeback, and can make everything perfectly clear. It would n't do you anygood the way things stand now, and would only make you uneasy. But ifyou do any praying over it, my girl, pray good and hard that I maydiscover some means for making that fellow squeal."
She made no response. He had told her so little, that it left herblindly groping, yet fearful to ask for more. She stood gazingthoughtfully past him.
"Have you heard anything lately, Bob, about the Seventh?" she asked,finally. "Since--since N Troop left here?"
He answered with well-simulated carelessness. "No; but it is mostlikely they are well into the game by this time. It's bound to prove ahard campaign, to judge from all visible indications, and the troublehas been hatching long enough to get all the hostiles into a bunch. Iknow most of them, and they are a bad lot of savages. Crook's column,I have just heard, was overwhelmingly attacked on the Rosebud, andforced to fall back. That leaves the Seventh to take the brunt of it,and there is going to be hell up north presently, or I 've forgottenall I ever knew about Indians. Sitting Bull is the arch-devil for aplot, and he has found able assistants to lead the fighting. I onlywish it were my luck to be in it. But come, little girl, as I said, I'm quite likely to be off before night, provided I am fortunate enoughto strike a fresh trail. Under such conditions you won't mind mykissing you out here, will you?"
She held up her lips and he touched them softly with his own. Her eyeswere tear-dimmed. "Oh, Bob, I hate so to let you go," she sobbed,clinging to him. "No one could have been more to me than you havebeen, and you are all I have left in the world. Everything I care forgoes away from me. Life is so hard, so hard!"
"Yes, little girl, I know," and the man stroked her hair tenderly, hisown voice faltering. "It's all hard; I learned that sad lesson longago, but I 've tried to make it a little bit easier for you since wefirst came together. Still, I don't see how I can possibly help this.I 've been hunting after that fellow a long while now, a matter offifteen years over a mighty dim trail, and it would be a mortal sin topermit him to get away scot-free. Besides, if this affair only managesto turn out right, I can promise to make you the happiest girl inAmerica. But, Naida, dear, don't cling to me so; it is not at all likeyou to break down in this fashion," and he gently unclasped her hands,holding her away from him, while he continued to gaze hungrily into hertroubled face. "It only weakens me at a time when I require all mystrength of will."
"Sometimes I feel just like a coward, Bob. It's the woman of it; yettruly I wish to do whatever you believe to be best. But, Bob, I needyou so much, and you will come back, won't you? I shall be so lonelyhere, for--for you are truly all I have in the world."
With one quick, impulsive motion he pressed her to him, passionatelykissing the tears from her lowered lashes, unable longer to conceal thetremor that shook his own voice. "Never, never doubt it, lassie. Itwill not take me long, and if I live I come straight back."
He watched her slender, white-robed figure as it passed slowly down thedeserted street. Once only she paused, and waved back to him, and hereturned instant response, although scarcely realizing the act.
"Poor little lonely girl! perhaps I ought to have told her the wholeinfernal story, but I simply haven't got the nerve, the way it readsnow. If I can only get it straightened out, it'll be different."
Mechanically he thrust an unlighted cigar between his teeth, anddescended the steps, to all outward appearance the same reckless,audacious Hampton as of old. Mrs. Guffy smiled happily from an openwindow as she observed the square set of his shoulders, the easy,devil-may-care smile upon his lips.
The military telegraph occupied one-half of the small tent next theMiners' Retreat, and the youthful operator instantly recognized hisdebonair visitor.
"Well, Billy," was Hampton's friendly greeting, "are they keeping youfairly busy with 'wars and rumors of wars' these days?"
"Nuthin' doin', just now," was the cheerful reply. "Everything goin'ter Cheyenne. The Injuns are gittin' themselves bottled up in the BigHorn country."
"Oh, that's it? Then maybe you might manage to rush a message throughfor me to Fort A. Lincoln, without discommoding Uncle Sam?" and Hamptonplaced a
coin upon the rough table.
"Sure; write it out."
"Here it is; now get it off early, my lad, and bring the answer to meover at the hotel. There 'll be another yellow boy waiting when youcome."
The reply arrived some two hours later.
"FORT A. LINCOLN, June 17, 1876.
"HAMPTON, Glencaid:
"Seventh gone west, probably Yellowstone. Brant with them. Murphy,government scout, at Cheyenne waiting orders.
"BITTON, Commanding."
He crushed the paper in his hand, thinking--thinking of the past, thepresent, the future. He had borne much in these last years, muchmisrepresentation, much loneliness of soul. He had borne thesepatiently, smiling into the mocking eyes of Fate. Through it all--theloss of friends, of profession, of ambition, of love, of home--he hadnever wholly lost hold of a sustaining hope, and now it would seem thatthis long-abiding faith was at last to be rewarded. Yet he realized,as he fronted the facts, how very little he really had to buildupon,--the fragmentary declaration of Slavin, wrung from him in amoment of terror; an idle boast made to Brant by the surprised scout; asecond's glimpse at a scarred hand,--little enough, indeed, yet by farthe most clearly marked trail he had ever struck in all his vainendeavor to pierce the mystery which had so utterly ruined his life.To run this Murphy to cover remained his final hope for retrievingthose dead, dark years. Ay, and there was Naida! Her future, scarcelyless than his own, hung trembling in the balance.
The sudden flashing of that name into his brain was like an electricshock. He cursed his inactivity. Great God! had he become a childagain, to tremble before imagined evil, a mere hobgoblin of the mind?He had already wasted time enough; now he must wring from the lips ofthat misshapen savage the last vestige of his secret.
The animal within him sprang to fierce life. God! he would prove aswary, as cunning, as relentless as ever was Indian on the trail.Murphy would never suspect at this late day that he was being tracked.That was well. Tireless, fearless, half savage as the scoutundoubtedly was, one fully his equal was now at his heels, actuated bygrim, relentless purpose. Hampton moved rapidly in preparation. Hedressed for the road, for hard, exacting service, buckling his loadedcartridge-belt outside his rough coat, and testing his revolvers withunusual care. He spoke a few parting words of instruction to Mrs.Guffy, and went quietly out. Ten minutes later he was in the saddle,galloping down the dusty stage road toward Cheyenne.