CHAPTER IV.

  An hour later the lights were out among the barracks, and the silenceof the summerlike winter's night had settled on the garrison. Over atthe Mess and office buildings all was darkness. Along the log and adobefacade of the officers' quarters, from occasional open doorways thegleam of lantern was thrown across the wooden verandas. The moonbeamsflooded the sandy parade and the rough-hewn roofs and walls withtender, silvery radiance that put to shame the twinkling lights, downat the store on the lower flats, and the bleary eye of the big,triangular, glass-faced, iron-bound cresset at the log guard-house,perched at the edge of the mesa. Afar off, through dim vistas of thevalley, the silver ribbon of the stream wound and twisted among thewillows, but the heights, as a rule, were wrapped in the shadows oftheir own pines. A game of goodly proportion was going on down at thecard room, a brace of ranchmen and prospectors, a venturesome "sub" andthe "contract doctor" making up the party, but the general, hishousehold and near neighbors had retired or were retiring for thenight. Only the guard and the "owls" were "on deck." Army folk in thosedays and regions had a way of turning out at dawn for the cool of themorning, turning in at taps for the needed six hours' beauty sleep,lunching lightly at noon, snoozing drowsily an hour or two, then aftertub and fresh linen, venturing forth, those who had to, for theafternoon duties. All social enjoyment, as a rule, began when the suncould not see, but had dropped back of the screen of the mountains.

  But there was still faint stir at the camp of the scouts, out beyondthe corrals. Rations had been drawn at tattoo, and a limited portionissued to the lithe, swarthy fellows, squatted in semicircle in frontof their chief, patiently awaiting their share, no man of their numberopening so much as the end of a package, either of cartridge orcracker, until the last had his dole and all were served. It was knownthat before dawn they were again to set forth, whither, not even 'Toniohad been told, and 'Tonio had noted and felt it. Hitherto there hadbeen counsel between his young commander and himself. This night therehad been none. Instead, only half an hour after the exciting episode atthe commanding officer's and the despatching of the intruding rattler,'Tonio had been summoned to the adjutant's office and then questionedby Lieutenant Willett, with _cargador_ Munoz, not Lieutenant Harris,serving as interpreter. Hitherto 'Tonio had conducted his conferencewith the Great Father's captains with Lieutenant Harris translating. Itwas significant both to that officer and to 'Tonio that this time apack train employe had been selected, his name having been suggested athead-quarters at Prescott, and an orderly sent for him early by way ofcaution, for Munoz loved monte and mescal. Another significant thingwas that Harris had declined an invitation to be present at 'Tonio'sexamination. "If Mr. Willett has any question to ask me," he said,"he'll find me at Dr. Bentley's," whither, indeed, he had repaired, asit were, awaiting summons.

  Moreover, it was patent to Stannard and Turner and Dr. Bentley, too,that Harris took it much amiss that Willett should at last disclose thefact that he was there to "investigate." He had said nothing of it thenight before. He had put up at the adjutant's, after quite a longsession at the Mess, an affair attended by Harris only an hour or so,and even then only as an absorbed listener, with other fellow-soldiers,to Willett's brilliant description of the recent campaign in the lavabeds, culminating as it had in the brutal massacre by the Modocs oftheir would-be best friends, the peace commissioners, and GeneralCanby. After taps, however, despite his long and dusty buckboard ride,Willett saw fit to "sit in" to the game almost always in progress downat the trader's store. Whereupon Stannard, Turner and Harris,non-participants ever, took themselves off to bed. It was not much of agame, said Strong, who was there, only Willett, Craney, Watson, Briggsand himself, and was remarkable for only one fact, that Case, thebookkeeper, who never before had seemed to care to play, had happenedin late, looked curiously on a moment, and then, without having beenpresented to Willett, seemed desirous of taking a hand. Craney wonderedif Case had been drinking again, but Willett took no notice. Willettwas feeling very jolly, said Strong, and it was quite late when theyfinally quit.

  Harris was up with the sun looking over his pack train and observing'Tonio and his fellows. Willett did not turn out until office hours,when he had a conference with General Archer, ending in his expressinga wish to "look about" him for the day. He had asked no questions ofHarris; had met him heartily, as classmates should, but with just asuspicion of superiority of manner that Harris could not like, andwithout a word of appreciation of the capital soldier work Harris hadbeen doing.

  There was another reason why Harris resented Willett's investigatinghis scout that second evening. A total abstainer himself from boyhood,reared by a careful mother and aware for many a year that his father'soccasional lapses were her perennial dread, Harris had set his canonagainst the practice from the day he doffed the gray at West Point, andnever swerved from his creed after donning the blue. Not so withWillett. Not so with nine-tenths of his associates. Harris had seen,without remark, that Willett enjoyed the occasional beverages mixed forhim at the Mess in the late afternoon, and again had noted that hiscomrade did quite his share this second evening toward finishing thedoctor's sherry, though it was the "Old Man," after all, who "got awaywith" most of the Bordeaux. Twice after dinner Archer had ushered hisguests within doors, once to try what was left of the claret, andlater, after the snake episode, when some nerves might be in need ofbracing, to sample some phenomenal Monongahela. Then when Harris wasthrough, after saying good-night, he was presently followed by Willett,flushed in face and abrupt in manner. Miss Archer had been spirited offby her mother, and presumably gone to bed. She'd get used to snakes ifshe stayed long in Arizona, said Willett. What was the sense in scaringher, anyway? Why hadn't Harris quietly given him the tip? _He_ couldhave snapped Mr. Rattler's head off without anybody being the wiser,and Harris saw that the night-caps, taken on top of all that preceded,had tangled Willett's ideas, despite which fact Willett now announcedthat he had summoned the interpreter and desired Harris to send 'Tonioto the office for investigation at once.

  And Willett represented the commanding general, who knew nothing ofwhat was going on, and Harris could only obey.

  It was a dramatic scene as it opened. Willett had not failed to hand acopy of his instructions to the post commander and had left entirely tohis judgment the question as to whether the officers should be present.Archer had decided against it. 'Tonio might be alarmed. It were better,he said, that no one except the post adjutant, the interpreter, andLieutenants Willett and Harris appear, and then Harris, whose letterfrom the field announcing the ill success of the scout was the originalcause of the investigation, said he preferred to be excused. Harris didnot wish to appear to 'Tonio in the light of an accuser, and Willettwas secretly better content that his classmate should stay away.

  Down in the bottom of his heart Willett felt that four years of suchexperiences as Harris had encountered made him a far better judge ofApache methods and motives than he, Willett, could expect to be.Moreover, he knew well that, were he in Harris's place, he shouldresent it that an officer no higher in grade, and inferior in Arizonacraft, should be sent to inquire into the conduct of his scout. It wasjust one of those things a tactless chief of staff would sometimes do;but, even though Willett appreciated, none the less did he welcome theorder. It put him at once in position of ascendency over a classmate ofwhose record and success he was both jealous and afraid. If he had feltthis earlier in the day the feeling was intensified now, for though hehad seemed to some of the officers, to Archer and his family, especiallyto Lilian, far the more accomplished and attractive of the two, theentrance of that disturbing rattler on the scene had destroyed theequilibrium of affairs. Willett had had no experience with the venomouslittle reptile, Harris had had much, and Harris's utter _sang froid_,and cool, commanding words had averted what might have been a tragedy.One start, one sudden move of the girl at that critical moment mightwell have been fatal. The snake, alarmed and angered by previous stirand by Willett's approaches, was actually co
iled for the spring. Thetiny fangs would have fastened in a flash on that slender, unprotectedankle, and the rest could only be conjectured.

  And so, it was in no judicial mood that Willett began his questioning.Accustomed as he was to the hang-dog, dissolute specimens of degeneratered men he had seen in the Columbia country and the lava beds, hehardly knew what to make of 'Tonio, this ascetic of the mountains,clear eyed, trained to a fineness almost unhuman, all wire and sinew,an Indian withal who looked him straight and fearless in the eye, andheld himself as proudly as ever did chieftain of the Aztecs or theSioux. Summoned from the camp fire to this unsought council, findinghimself confronted by strangers, missing his own friend and commander,and instinctively scenting accusation, 'Tonio stood and faced hisjudges without so much as a tremor.

  For a moment Willett sat and studied him. "Siwashes" of Puget's Sound,Klickatats of the Columbia, and scowling, beetle-browed Modocs of upperNevada he had often met, and their shifting eyes dropped before thekeen gaze of the dominant soldier, but this son of the Sierras never somuch as suffered the twitch of a muscle, the droop of an eyelash. Inthe language of the "greaser" cargador, whose border vernacular hadsuffered through long contact with that of the gringo, "'Tonio didn'tscare worth a damn, even when the lieutenant tried bulldozing," butthat may merely have been the expression of civilian jealousy ofmilitary methods. Being in the pay and under the protection of theUnited States, 'Tonio could be called on for explanation at any time,only--there were two ways of calling.

  "Tell him," said Willett, "the chief-of-chiefs believes the ApacheMohaves are hiding in the Mogollon,--many of them--bucks, squaws andchildren, and he was sent to find them and to bring them to thereservation. Why did he fail?"

  Munoz, as nearly as he could, put the question, but none tooconfidently.

  "Because my people were driven beyond sound of 'Tonio's voice," was thecalm reply, the eyes for the officer, the words for the man, and Munozagain translated.

  "How so? Was not word sent them by Arahawa?"

  "Arahawa said the white brother would come with food and presents tolead them home. What they saw was guns and scouts and soldiers.Therefore, they were afraid and fled. Soldiers with guns catch noMohaves who fear. Therefore was it useless, and I tired."

  "Could _you_ have caught them and persuaded them had you gone alone?"And Willett asked as he had been instructed at headquarters.

  "Caught? Yes! Persuaded? No! They say white soldiers killed ComesFlying, brother to Chief Lone Pine."

  "How does he know Comes Flying was killed? We heard it only the night Ireached Prescott. No one has told it--here." And now the officer's eyeswere glittering. The adjutant shifted uneasily in his chair. This wasnews to him. Comes Flying stood second only to Lone Pine in the tribe,yet Camp Almy had not heard it. 'Tonio had told it not even to Harris.

  "The mountain eagle is 'Tonio's friend; the bear, the lynx, the birdsare his brothers."

  "Then you _knew_ the Apache Mohaves were in the Verde Valley--and inDead Man's Canon as late as last week--that they had raided Stoner'sRanch?"

  "They were not there, nor did they raid Stoner's Ranch! My peoplestayed not even on the East Fork. They fled deep in the Mogollon."

  Willett gave vent to impatient "Pish!" The Indians he had known alllied, of course, but looked it. This man looked him full in the face,even as he lied, and looked the truth.

  "I'll show you why we know you lie," said he impulsively, but theadjutant held up a warning hand, saying, "Listen!"

  Through the open doorway, barred against unauthorized intruder by thesingle soldier, standing beyond earshot upon the level of the parade,there came the prolonged cry of a sentry at the upper end of thegarrison. Number Three had repeated, but Number Four was impatient,imperative, and the yell came again: "Corporal of the Guard, NumberFour!"

  "That _means_ something," said the adjutant, springing to his feet."I'll be back in a minute if it doesn't," and away he went,swift-speeding under the flagstaff, and Munoz followed straight to thebase of the staff, where the trumpeter of the guard and three or fourmen from the barracks were already gathered, their own surreptitious,blanket-shrouded game for the moment forgotten. They were staringthrough the moonlight straight away to the northeastward chain ofheights, rocky and precipitous, that spanned the valley in thatdirection, and suddenly two of them gave tongue:

  "There it is again! Didn't I tell you?"

  Far away among the pines at the crest a tiny blaze shot into the skies,brilliant even in the moonshine. "Signal fire, sure!" said three voicesat once. "Signal fire, sure!" echoed other voices, as more men camerunning forth from the barracks to join the watchers on the parade."Signal fire, sure, and right up over the Bennett Ranch--where thegeneral was to-day!"

  "My God, I wonder have they jumped it! Yonder comes thecorporal--back--running!"

  Back, indeed, and running and straight for the doctor's, where he couldbe heard banging at the open door. So away went the trumpeter, fulltilt for tidings, and others, impatient, followed. Instead of comingback the trumpeter kept on, running still harder toward the brow of thehill and the post of Number Four. It was the corporal who called to hishalting and anxious fellows:

  "It's Bennett's Ranch! His dago's in with the news--mos' dead downthere on Number Four; says they've killed the whole family--'PatchieMohaves!"

  There was awed silence one moment. Then a deep voice broke it, and alleyes turned on the speaker. 'Tonio.

  "Apache Mohave? No! _No!!_"