Under Fire

  CHAPTER XV.

  But, as on more than one previous occasion, Captain Devers was notimmediately to be found. He was not at his quarters, not at the storenor the stables. Mr. Hastings said later that just after Cranston andDavies went to the adjutant's office, Devers came from his house andwent over to the barracks. Sergeant Haney did not know where the captainhad gone. Not until 10.30 o'clock did the orderly succeed in findinghim, coming up the bluff from the river bottom, whither he had ridden,he said, to look over the prospective ice crop. By that time Pegleg wastired of waiting and had dismissed his visitors. They, however, wererecalled in a minute, and when Captain Devers was made acquainted withMr. Davies's positive denial of his allegations, Captain Devers promptlyshifted the responsibility to the shoulders of the attendant, PrivatePaine, who had persisted, he said, in his story despite his, Devers's,incredulity and stringent cross-examination. Bang went Pegleg's fist onthe bell. "Send for Private Paine, Troop 'A,'" said he. "I'm bound toget to the bottom of this at once." And then while the orderly was gonehe began pacing the floor, occasionally stopping to drum on thefrost-covered window. Leonard shifted his seat to Cranston's side andentered into low-toned chat with him and Davies, though neither seemedin mood to talk. A natural question that had risen to their lips was whyLeonard seemed to think that Brannan was well known to Davies before hisenlistment, and this question Leonard had disposed of by saying that hehad been assured that this was the case, and that he would ask hisinformant's permission to give his name. It was an officer and a friendof Davies, and the statement was made in all apparent good faith. Deverssat nervously in a chair feigning to read a newspaper, but every now andthen furtively watching the three. Presently the orderly came back.Trooper Paine wasn't in the post: he'd gone with the market wagon totown.

  "Captain Devers," said Pegleg, irritably, "you ought to have known this.Why didn't you say he'd gone, instead of keeping us waiting here?"

  "I protest against the imputation, colonel," said Devers, to allappearances much injured at such injustice. "The wagon rarely, if ever,goes to town on Monday, and that Private Paine should have gone with itis equally fortuitous."

  "Well, just as soon as that wagon gets back I wish to examine that man,and I wish you, gentlemen, to be present, also Doctor Burroughs. You seeto it, Mr. Leonard."

  "I'll give instructions at once," said Leonard, rising quickly, andthen, with significant glance at Cranston, taking his cap and quittingthe office.

  "Then, Colonel Stone," said Devers, "I must ask, in justice to myself,that one or two officers, who are friends of mine, may be present at theinquisition. I am conscious of nothing but enemies in this office, and Ican expect no fair play."

  Stone whirled wrathfully upon him. "Your language is insubordinate,Captain Devers, and there must be an immediate end to it. If you haveenemies here, they are of your own making. Bring any gentleman who willconsent to appear with you, and, meantime, sir, you may withdraw."

  "And leave the field in possession of my opponents, sir, and, like SirPeter Teazle, my character in their hands. There is a higher court thana post commander," said Devers, white and trembling with mingled wrathand apprehension, "and to that court I shall appeal."

  "You shall have every opportunity, sir," answered the colonel, with abang upon his bell, "and leave this office in arrest if I hear anotherword.--Recall Mr. Leonard," said he to the orderly, who sprang in withscared face as Devers went mumbling out, "Which way did he go?"

  "To the cavalry barks, sir," answered the Irish soldier, and Deverscaught the reply before he was fairly out of the hall. He turned whiterstill, for sudden suspicion flashed upon him. He halted as though morethan half disposed to again address his commander, but realized thatalready he had gone too far. He looked again across the white level ofthe parade and saw the tall, dark figure of the adjutant stalkingstraight to the door of his own troop office, and as with anxiouslythrobbing heart he walked away homewards, Devers watched his hatedpersecutor, almost divining what was his purpose,--what would be hisfirst question. He saw him halt and the office-door open and SergeantHaney come forth. Haney, who could be flippant and independent in thepresence of his own lieutenants, stood like a statue before that dark,saturnine face. Officer or man, no soldier in that garrison ever took aliberty with Leonard. Devers realized that he had made a fatal error atlast. He almost realized--almost divined the very words of that brief,curt interview.

  "Sergeant Haney, you must have known Trooper Paine would be needed atthe office this morning. How, then, did you select him to go to town?"

  And Haney, to use his own expression, "wilted."

  "Them was the captain's orders, sir."

  "Captain who?"

  "Captain Devers, sir."

  "That's all."

  And when Sergeant Haney was informed ten minutes later that the captainwished to see him at his quarters at once, he realized that there werebreakers ahead in earnest, and went with his heart in his mouth. Later,when he came forth after full confession of the adjutant's question andhis own compromising reply, the sergeant proceeded to the adjutant'soffice, asked to see that gentleman, well known throughout the old armyas Black Larry, and nervously twitching his cap stood uneasily beforethose penetrating eyes. "I've come to make a correction, sir. Imisunderstood the captain."

  "As to what?"

  "As to Paine. The captain told me he might be needed this morning. Thenhe said he promised Paine he might go to town next trip of themarket-wagon. We were out of potatoes, sir, and there were fine ones inmarket, so the captain said we'd better secure some without delay. Itook it he meant at once, and so the wagon went this morning and Painewent along. I suppose I got it mixed, sir, but I thought the captainmeant Paine should go to-day."

  "Which wasn't at all what the captain meant you should think, eh?" saidLeonard, dryly.

  "No, sir. He says he meant to have him ready to go to see the colonel."

  "Exactly. I only marvel at your misunderstanding such explicit andclear-cut orders," said Leonard, with calm sarcasm. "That will do,sergeant, so far as you are concerned." And Haney walked away, wellcontent that when Paine and the wagon got back there would be somethingmore for "the ould man" to explain, or stand the consequences.

  But even Haney had only faint conception of his captain's squirmingpowers. Not until evening stables was the wagon back from Braska. It wasloaded to the guards with fine Utah potatoes for the troop mess, andthere was no room for Trooper Paine. "You're wanted at the adjutant'soffice at once," said the orderly to the wagon-driver, who was alreadyin conversation with Sergeant Haney, "and I'm to fetch you with me."

  "The man can't go till he's put up his team, young fellow," said Haneyto the infantry bugler.

  "He can when ould Pegleg's a-pullin', Misther Sergeant Haney, and he'snot to go anywhere else or talk with any one else furst off ayther," wasthe significant answer,--another unpleasant item to impart to his nowwretchedly uneasy captain; and verily it seemed to Haney that thehalcyon days were done for good and all, when soon after dusk a littlesquad from Cranston's troop, with Second Lieutenant Sanders in command,rode briskly away on the Braska road, and it was speedily whisperedabout the garrison that they were going to find Paine, drunk or sober,dead or alive, and fetch him back to the post forthwith.

  "It takes a heap of nagging to get old Pegleg fully worked up," said thefellows of the Fortieth that night, _a propos_ of the snub given Devers,and the pursuit by members of another troop of material witnesses, "butwhen he locks horns in dead earnest, the other party's got to scratchgravel; it's business and no quarter."

  Meantime, acting under the advice of Captain Cranston, Davies hadrefrained from making any complaint of the language which Devers hadseen fit to use at his expense. "Leonard says that some other mattersshould come up first, and Leonard knows. The colonel is after Deverswith a sharp stick now, and all these charges are to be sprung upon himpresently. You go on getting your quarters ready for Wednesday'shouse-warming. By that time you'll be wanted on the witness-stand.
To-morrow, Tuesday, there'll be fun at the commanding officer's officewith a general court-martial looming up behind it. Meantime, hold yourpeace."

  This was Monday evening, and when he returned, meditating, to histemporary fireside, he found Mira surrounded by a swarm of post callers,smiling and chatting, gracious and gay. He was in no mood for chatterhimself, but had to sit by and strive to be interested and sociable.Most of their visitors had heard the story of Captain Devers's closecall at the office that morning, and not a few sought to hear the factsof the case from the lips of an eye-witness. But Davies would not speakof the matter at all, and, finding him intractable, some one asked ifSanders had returned, and what success had attended his search for themissing. It was nearly time for tattoo. Dr. Burroughs was among thecallers, and had just come over from the hospital. He had had noaddition to the list of patients. "On the contrary," said he, "I have aman who might go to duty to-night were there need, and that is MissLoomis's patient, Brannan."

  "Oh, do tell us about that, Mr. Davies," appealed Mrs. Flight, who wasagain on hand, well knowing that next to the colonel's, where she wasnot entirely in the good graces of the lady of the house, garrisonsociety would be most apt to be found in force doing homage to thebride. "We've heard all manner of conjectures already, and are so eagerto know the truth. _Was_ he an old friend of her's, and _did_ he sendand beg her to come to him?"

  "No," said Davies, promptly, "she got to the hospital by merestaccident. Louis Cranston's throat was sore, and he was coughing a greatdeal. She went for medicine, and I happened to meet her on the way."

  "But they said there was such a romantic scene; he wept and clung to herhand, and----"

  Here Burroughs opportunely and somewhat aggressively burst into a guffawof derisive laughter. "Miss Loomis is just one of those admirablewomen," said he, "that empty-headed idiots prate about. I wish otherpeople had half her sense." A luckless way of essaying the defence ofthe absent, for it reflected on many a woman present.

  "Fie! Dr. Burroughs," exclaimed Mrs. Flight. "Your blushes give youaway, even more than your words. Don't you be falling in love with MissLoomis. She's aiming higher than one room and a kitchen and a thousand ayear." Whereupon there was shrill laughter, and further accusation andindignant protest from the ill-starred medico. And Davies, who ought tohave rejoiced in the loyalty of such admiration for his friend andwhilom nurse, was conscious of a pang of annoyance and aversion. Theentrance of the old chaplain and his wife, and dark, swarthy Leonardwith the handsome partner of his joys and sorrows, gave instant turn tothe conversation. In a very few minutes Mrs. Flight and two youngermatrons took their departure, Almira following them with rusticregretfulness, and exchanging some whispered confidences at the door,which brought new flush to Davies's anxious face. Mrs. Leonard wasspeaking of a recent visit "up the road," as in those days the UnionPacific in its westward climb to the Rockies was referred to. She hadhad such a lovely visit to Fort Russell, and had so much to tell aboutaffairs in that particularly swell regiment, the --th, and the Truscottshad entertained her at such a pretty dinner; Mrs. Truscott was charming,and Mrs. Stannard was such a noble woman, and they were all sointerested in Mr. Ray's engagement. It was practically announced. He wasto be married to Miss Sanford--an heiress and a great catch--early inJune, and this led to the chaplain speaking of Ray, whom in days gone byhe was prone to look upon with little favor, if not indeed as ane'er-do-well. "I always feared that he would fall, and I am so rejoicedin this new phase to his character."

  "Oh, _I_ met Mr. Ray!" exclaimed Almira, delightedly. "He was ordered into General Sheridan on some duty late in the summer, and some of theyoung officers, Percy's classmates, said he was such a brave fellow."

  "What did the old officers say?" asked Leonard, with a twinkle in hisblack eyes, but not the vestige of a grin under his heavy moustache.

  "They? Oh, I don't remember their saying anything about _him_. They saidlots of lovely things about Percy."

  "Yes. That's right. I can understand their omitting no opportunity ofdoing that. One learns to be something of a courtier even in Chicago,when on staff duty, and as for Washington, service there is a liberaleducation in diplomacy. One never knows who may have the strongest pullwith the President in the event of a vacancy in the staff corps."

  "Leonard," said the chaplain, gravely, "you're a born cynic and apessimist to boot. Have we no generous impulses in the army?"

  "Lots of 'em. Lots of 'em, chaplain, especially in the line and on thefrontier, where we can afford to pat a fellow on the back, since we knowthat's about the extent of the reward he'll ever get. It's when we'rein big society in the East, above all in Washington, one has to beguarded in what he says, or first thing he knows he'll be hoisting somefellow over his own head in a moment of enthusiasm. No. I know just howyou regard me, but I spent six weeks of a three months' leave inWashington last winter, and sat night after night at the club, or dayafter day among the army crowd at the Ebbitt, or in some fellow's den atthe Department, and never once did I hear one word of frank, outspoken,fearless praise of some other fellow's work or deeds, unless it were tohis face. Ask a man flat-footed if that wasn't a capital scout ofStriker's last winter in the Tonto Basin, or if Jake Randlett hadn'tdone a daring thing in going all alone through the Sioux country to drumup Crow scouts for Crook's command, or what he thought of Billy Ray'scutting his way out through the Cheyennes to bring help to Wayne lastJune, and ten to one he'll hum and haw and say yes, he _did_ hearsomething about that, and now that I mentioned it he believed Striker orJake or Billy had really behaved quite creditably, but the whole tonewas significant of nothing like what some other fellow I might mention,modesty only forbidding, would have done under similar circumstances.'It's just the damnation of faint praise. The trouble with the whole gangof those fellows seems to be a mortal dread lest somebody's eyes shouldbe deflected from the valor of the warriors at Washington to that of thewarriors on the plains. What recognition do you suppose Ray will everget for that feat? General Crook says it's useless to recommend him forbrevet, because the Senate wouldn't confirm it, and the reason theywon't is that those hangers-on about the capital don't mean to let suchrewards be given to the men on the frontier. And yet this sort of thingdoesn't happen only in Washington. It was a cavalry officer who said ofthat very affair that Ray was simply a reckless fellow under a cloud,with everything to gain and nothing to lose, and that doing a recklessthing was just as much a matter of instinct with him as battle is to abull-dog."

  It was unusual to see Leonard warm up in this way. Besides the chaplainand the silent host, there were three officers in the dreary littlebachelor den at the moment. Each and every one seemed surprised at theadjutant's outbreak, but not one of them at the concluding revelation.

  "No need to ask who that was," said Captain Hay, with a prefatory"Humph." "It savors of Devers from first to last. That man is a borniconoclast. He pulls down everybody's idols and sneers at what he cannotpull down,--our ideals."

  "Well, now let me ask you," said the chaplain, a man whose broad charityled him at any and all times to the defence of the absent. "Withoutdetracting in the faintest degree from the heroism and value of Mr.Ray's exploit, are there not degrees of personal bravery, are there notpossibilities of an order of courage higher even than his? As I recallhim, he was what I should term a fearless man, brave to a fault; buthave we not in the army tens and perhaps hundreds of honorable gentlemenwho are as keenly susceptible to the thrill of danger as Ray isapparently dead to it? Have I not heard man after man say how his ownknees trembled or his comrade's cheek blanched at the whistle of thefirst bullets of the battle? And as for this Indian campaigning, canthere be a warfare imagined in which the percentage of peril is sogreat, the possibilities of ambush, surprise, sudden death in the midstof fancied security so constant, the daily and nightly circumstances sofull of incessant nervous strain? Now, who is the better soldier,--thereally braver, or, perhaps better, the more courageous man,--he whorides the trail utterly reckless of or insensible to it
s peril, or hewho, sighting danger in every bush, scenting death on every breeze,looking every instant for the war-whoop, the death-wound, neverthelessso bears himself with all his faculties in hand as to seem calm, serene,confident, and stands ready for death or duty at any moment? I havealways held that the Christian gentleman was the highest type of thehighest order of courage; the man who replaced the fatalism of theMahometan with the sustaining faith of the soldier of the Cross. But Isee you think I'm in the pulpit and preaching again," said he, smilingat Leonard. "We both warmed up to our hobby."

  They were silent a moment. Across the wintry night the trumpets weresinging the lullaby of the crowded garrison, and hurrying footsteps toldof belated subalterns speeding to their companies to supervise theroll-calls. Leonard rose to his full height and threw his cloak over hisbroad shoulders.

  "We are more in accord in this matter than you think, perhaps, chaplain;only the man doesn't live who could be insensible to the danger ofcutting his way through a band of encircling Cheyennes. I've heard ofno braver deed in many a year than Ray's. I doubt if we'll hear of truergrit or courage in many more."

  "Perhaps not, Leonard," said the chaplain, as the adjutant paused aninstant at the threshold to say he would return the moment he hadreceived the reports. "Perhaps not, nor would I say one word tounderrate the heroism of Ray's exploit; but when we do hear of another Ilook to hear of it in some fellow as firm in his faith as he is in hissense of honor and duty, and some day we shall see."

  But Leonard did not return in five minutes nor in ten, and Mrs. Leonardgrew anxious. "This never happens unless something unusual hasoccurred." Captain Hay stepped through the hall and opened the outerdoor.

  "There are lights dancing about over there on the parade near 'A'Troop's quarters. I wonder what's up. Hullo, Sanders! That you? When didyou get back? Did you get your man?"

  "Got two of 'em," was the breezy answer. "T'other one disguised as agentleman in cits and just about starting on the night train for theWest,--the gifted Mr. Howard, clerk of 'A' Troop."

  Mrs. Davies was standing just within the parlor door at the moment,blushing over the praises lavished on her by the chaplain's impulsivehelpmeet and trying hard to say civil and appropriate things to herguests. The officers, one and all, had edged into the hall-way ineagerness to hear the news.

  "What was it Mr. Sanders said?" asked Mrs. Leonard, anxious to knowwhat detained her husband. Hay half turned.

  "He says they arrested two men, one of them apparently deserting, beingin civilian dress and aboard the train,--Captain Devers's new clerk,Howard."

  And then every one in the parlor saw that Mrs. Davies was seized as withsudden faintness. She turned very white and grasped at the nearest chairfor support. "I'm only dizzy, not ill, or I don't know what it is," sheprotested, as they crowded round her, and Davies came quickly in,conscious that something was amiss. Nor did she recover her color or hercalm. Nervous, fluttering answers only could she give to theirsympathetic inquiries, and when presently Leonard reappeared, cool andimperturbable as ever, she was evidently relieved to see her guestsdeparting. The adjutant explained his detention by saying he had gone tothe colonel's with Sanders, who had galloped ahead, leaving his guard tobring along the prisoners in an ambulance, Paine too drunk to be able tomove. They would hardly arrive before eleven.

  "The colonel desires to see you at the office at eight o'clock in themorning," said he in low tone to Cranston. "Howard has been away allday,--since guard-mounting, in fact,--and no report was made of it.Devers has been notified that the colonel would investigate matters--thewhole business, in fact--early to-morrow."

  But who can tell what a day may bring forth? Devers, after a sleeplessnight, filled with foreboding of the wrath to come as the result of thatimpending investigation, sat nervously over his coffee while thetrumpets were sounding first call for guard-mounting, and turned a shadeyellower at the ring of the front-door bell. The servant re-entered thedining-room and announced that Lieutenant Leonard, the adjutant,desired to speak to the captain. For a moment he could not rise.Conscious of his own double-dealing, visions of arrest, charges,court-martial--heaven knows what all--were floating before his startledeyes, but go he had to. Summoning courage, bravado, or something, heswaggered into the hall.

  "Oh--ah--step into the parlor, Mr. Leonard," said he, airily, "I presumeyou're here on business." He was preparing to exhibit amaze--virtuousand soldierly indignation--at the idea of having, all unheard andunrepresented, been ordered into arrest on the prejudiced statement of aswarm of hostile officers and sorely badgered and bullied members of histroop. Well knowing himself to be tottering on the ragged edge of finaldiscovery, his duplicity exposed, his deceit established, henevertheless braced himself for the supreme effort to bluff to the verylast. Thanks to the storm-shed without, the hall was dark, and for amoment he could only vaguely see the huge bulk of the infantrymanstanding erect before him, the very attitude indicative of sternofficial purpose.

  And then in sudden revulsion of feeling,--in a wild whirl of revivinghope, courage, exultation,--he noticed that the adjutant was without hissword, and listened, spell-bound, well-nigh incredulous and withoutreply, to the brief official words which Mr. Leonard delivered, thensaluting, turned on his heel and left the house.

  "It is my duty to announce, sir, that Colonel Stone has had a stroke ofapoplexy or vertigo and is seriously ill. As senior captain, you are incommand of the post."