Under Fire

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  That night Dr. Rooke called twice at No. 12, and went away both timessaying opprobrious things about his fellow-men and women. The chaplain,who had gone over to see Davies about three o'clock, presently went backfor his wife, and that good-hearted woman remained until late at night.Mrs. Darling coming over in the early evening to congratulate dear Miraagain on her husband's return and invite them both to dinner on themorrow, was met by Davies himself at the door, but not invited in. Hersweet smiles and words of greeting and proffers of hospitality werechecked at sight of his stern, sad face. In brief words he told her Mrs.Davies was too ill to receive callers or accept invitations, and inresponse to her flurried "Is there anything in the world I can do?"coldly answered that Mrs. Darling had already done--too much.

  In her natural and justifiable indignation, Mrs. Darling at once soughtMrs. Stone and Mrs. Flight. "They had an awful scene, I'm sure," saidshe, "for his face was as black as a storm, and I knew how it would be.Some one's been blabbing and making matters infinitely worse than theyreally were. What do you suppose will happen when he and Willett reallymeet?"

  "They _have_ met," cried Mrs. Flight, forgetful of her determination tokeep at odds with Mrs. Darling in the bliss of imparting excitingnews,--"they _have_ met at Sanders's quarters, and there must have beensomething dreadful, because Willett came out, oh, with such a face! andwent right over to the store and drove off to town. Sanders is allbroken up about something. Flighty says he wouldn't tell anybody." Andby "Flighty" the lady referred to her consort.

  The awful scene of Mrs. Darling's imagination was really not verytragic. Almira had shut herself in her room in preparation for thecoming visits of the doctor and Mrs. Darling. Her tea-gown being a mostbecoming garment, she was still enveloped in its soft and clingingfolds, and had let her long, lustrous hair fall rippling down her back.She had once seen a queen of the emotional drama similarly gowned andgroomed and a lasting impression was the consequence. The tea-gown andtumbling hair became Mira's conception of the proper make-up for wrongedand injured and deeply-suffering wifehood. She had prepared to delugethe doctor with symptoms and Mrs. Darling with tears, but nearly an hourwent by and neither came. Katty was clearing away the luncheon table,and to her Almira faintly appealed for tidings, and Katty said that themasther had come in for a minute and walked up and down in the parlorand gone to the front door himself to meet Mr. Sanders, and they weretalking out in front. When the second time her husband entered the houseshe prepared to hide her face and refuse him a word, but he did not comenear her. She heard him pacing up and down, up and down, at first withquick nervous stride and at last more slowly. Then he seemed to sit athis desk and write. She could hear him sigh heavily. What business hadhe to sigh? She was suffering for lack of sympathy, nursing, tendercare. Why should he sit there sighing in that absurd fashion? She heardhim go to the kitchen and tell Barnickel to take that note to thechaplain, and then he came back to write some more. She grew impatient,lonely. She determined to bring him to her side, and if possible to herfeet again. Other men were abject enough; why should she be lorded overin this way? She threw herself again upon her bed and covered her eyeswith her filmy handkerchief and faintly called "Percy!" As he did nothear she tried again, louder, and still he did not seem to be at herdoor listening for the slightest sign, and she was compelled to sit upand call loudly, not for him but for Katty.

  And Katty, being out among the pots and pans and kettles, didn't hearher at all; so Davies went and summoned the girl, instead of going toAlmira himself, as Almira thought he should have done. Presently Kattycame out. The misthress wanted to know was the doctor ever coming--andMrs. Darling? Then Davies entered the room and closed the door.

  "Dr. Rooke has not yet returned, Mira," he said. "Mrs. Darling with myconsent will not visit you again until you are experienced enough toknow right from wrong. You never told me of these visits with her toCresswell's or I should have forbidden them utterly. It never occurredto me that you would be tempted to go thither or I should have warnedyou. I do not blame you so much, my wife, as I do those who have somisled you. There are some things I have been told that are past myunderstanding, and that when you are well again I shall have to ask youto explain. Now rest as well as you can. The doctor will come to youjust as soon as he returns to the post. Is there anything I can do tohelp you?"

  But Mira burst into a wail. She didn't wish to see anybody--anybody butthe doctor and Mrs. Darling. It was cruel, heartless, brutal on his partto come in and taunt and torment her when she was so helpless and ill.It was wicked to cut her off from the only friends she loved or who hadbeen kind to her. She would have died of loneliness and misery while hewas gone if it hadn't been for Mrs. Darling and for her friends. _His_friends hadn't come near her,--hadn't done anything for her, and now hewas angry because, when she was neglected and scorned by them, otherslike Mrs. Darling had been good and kind to her. Oh, why couldn't she gohome to her dear old father and the sisters who loved her, and weep herheart out on her m-m-mother's grave? Davies sadly realized that neitherargument nor appeal would help matters. He heard the chaplain's ring atthe outer door, and went to him with sore-laden heart. Later the twoleft the fair invalid to the care of the chaplain's wife and went insearch of Leonard. Boynton, still unable to walk about, was occupyinghis old quarters next to the adjutant's, and, propped up in aneasy-chair near the window, caught sight of his comrade, the captor ofRed Dog, and eagerly beckoned him in. Davies had to go and shake hands,though at the moment he wished that he might avoid almost everybody.

  "Why, Parson, old boy, you can't stand that agency work. It's making anold man of you now before half your time. You look ten years older. Ihope you're not ill."

  "No, not ill; a little tired and worn perhaps," said Davies. "We werejust going in to see Leonard."

  "Well, I wish you'd fetch him in here the first evening you can. Thereare some things that I want to talk over with you two, things thataffect us both. Have you seen Differs?"

  "No, not yet. I'll report to him at guard-mounting in the morning. Theregulations say the first orderly hour, don't they?"

  "Yes,--but you'd better report your arrival to him the moment he comesout of his house or else go to the office and do it. We've got a bone topick with him, Parson, and I don't want you to get into any outsidetangle. I'll be up and about in a couple of days, then we'll settle itwith him."

  For a man who had striven conscientiously to do his duty, it seemed toDavies, as he rejoined the chaplain, that he had become involved intangles enough without seeking new ones. His friend had already rappedat Leonard's door and been informed that the adjutant was over at hisoffice, so thither went the two, many eyes following them as theycrossed the broad, brown level of the parade. The snow had disappearedentirely except in dirty hummocks along the pathways and walks whitherit had been shovelled after the heavy fall. The post looked even lesscheery and attractive than before. The few men moving about had thelistless air of soldiers with nothing to do, going fat and "soft" forlack of vigorous exercise. Over in front of the colonel's quarters hissedate bay team was waiting, and presently that veteran, with Mrs. Stoneand Tommy Dot and a striker in attendance, was aided down the steps andinto his open carriage for a drive.

  "Is it not late for them to take him out?" asked Davies. "Why don't theymake an earlier start?"

  "Ordinarily they have done so. To-day, though, he has been having aconference with your captain; rather an extended and trying one, Ifancy, and not agreeable to either party. Captain Devers was leavingthere as I returned to yours. Davies, my friend, there is a man who is averitable Ishmael. His hand seems against every one and every man's handagainst him. You could never have wronged him,--what on earth has sethim against you?"

  "Indeed," was the earnest answer, "I do not know;" and then, solemnly,Davies added, "Trouble seems the lot of many of us, yet even in one'ssaddest hour it is impossible not to feel sorrow and pity for one likehim, who stands before his fellows an utterly friendless man."
/>
  The adjutant rose with an eager light in his dark eyes at sight of thetwo. "I have been hoping to see you, Davies," said he, "yet I knew youwould have much to detain you at home. Mrs. Davies is better, I hope?"

  "Mrs. Davies is not well, but I think the matter is not serious. I camefirst to report my arrival from the reservation. Mrs. Davies will gothere with me just as soon as we can pack. Then the chaplain and I wantto consult you personally about some important matters. Have you a sparehalf-hour?"

  "Frankly, Davies, I haven't, and won't have until tattoo. There are somereports here that will occupy me pretty much every minute. Is itbusiness that can wait until then?"

  "It will have to," said Davies.

  "Then let me get at once to the reason of my desiring to see you beforeto-night. Captain Devers has been called upon by departmenthead-quarters to explain some discrepancies in an official report ortwo, and I was present at the long interview between him and the colonelthis afternoon. Davies, have you ever seen a map or sketch of thatground north of Antelope Springs where you had your adventure lastSeptember?"

  "No," said Davies, wondering.

  "Then I want you to look at this, compare it with your recollections,and tell me how accurate it is, especially as to the tracing of thetrails of the various parties."

  The short winter day was already waning and the light in the dingyoffice growing dim. Leonard called for candles, then stretched a hugewhite blotter upon a wide-topped stand and spread open upon it the filmysheet of tracing paper. An almost exact copy of Devers's map was throwninto bold, black relief, and for the first time Percy Davies saw theplan on which was based the report that, exonerating his captain,inferentially held him accountable for the massacre of his comrades atAntelope Springs.

  "Why! when was this made?" he asked, in grave surprise. "Whose work isthis?"

  "It was made while you were lying ill at Cranston's up at the old post,"said Leonard, calmly. "Had you never heard of the investigation?"

  "Never."

  "The general sent Mr. Archer of his staff up there to go over the groundwith Devers and let him explain, if he could, why he got so far awayfrom you and your people as to permit that tragedy to occur, especiallyafter the orders he'd received from Major Warren. Devers cleared himselfby proving to Archer's satisfaction that he obeyed his orders exactlyand marched right along the ridge here. This trail, the one that runsdue south, just west of the summit of the divide, was made by Devers'smain command moving in support of you and your detachment. This one offhere"--and Leonard's pencil rode lightly along another that skirted aravine apparently two miles away from the ridge--"this one was made byhis command the next day after you had been found by Warren's men," andLeonard was narrowly eying Davies as he spoke.

  "Pardon me, Mr. Leonard, it was just the other way," said Davies,assuming that the adjutant in his personal ignorance of the facts wasstating a theory. "Captain Devers never approached the ridge thatevening. He was going farther away from it all the time. I had to gallopto catch him. This, out here to the southwest, is what might be calledan approximation to his trail. I finally overtook him away out over heresomewhere, across the ravine," and Davies indicated with the point of apencil.

  "Well, then who made this trail up here on the ridge? You must havecrossed it twice before dark."

  "There was no such trail there, sir, nor was there any party to make it.Everything in the battalion except my own little squad was away off tothe southwest, anywhere from two to ten miles."

  "You could swear to that, Davies? You remember it distinctly--despiteyour illness?"

  "Swear to it? Certainly, sir," said Davies, with wonderment in his eyes."So could McGrath, who was with me, if he were only alive. So couldDevers himself, or Haney, or Finucane, or a dozen others of the commandwho must know that wasn't their trail."

  "I fear me, Davies," said Leonard, gravely, "that some of the very menyou name have told it, if not sworn to it, the other way, and that yourcaptain has allowed it to be accepted as the basis of his release fromaccountability."

  In the gloomy office the darkness was gathering thicker. At the head ofthe table, his coat thrown over his arm, his hat in his folded hands,stood the strong figure of the chaplain, his thoughtful brow shining inthe light of the candles the clerks had placed upon the board. His wasthe first face to be seen by one entering the room from the hall-way, orpeering in at the window, for the figures of Leonard and Davies, theirbacks to the entrance, were thrown in black silhouette against theglare; but as Leonard spoke the two who had been bending over the workdrew slightly apart and gazed silently, significantly, into each other'sfaces, Leonard calm, massive, masterful, Davies searching, questioning,the light of a new and grave suspicion in his troubled eyes.

  And looking on this picture,--on this triumvirate,--there stood on theporch without, close to the uncurtained window, a fourth form, heavy,massive almost as Leonard's, but far less soldierly. Then noiselesslythis latter turned to the hall-way, and with cautious step drew near theopen office door; the heavy arctics, which it was Devers's habit to wearso long as the weather was even moderately cold, deadened the sound ofhis footfalls, and now with beating heart the troop commander stoodlistening to what he could catch of the conversation within.

  "It is absolutely false and misleading," said Davies, "and if it hasbeen used, as you say, to clear him or anybody else, it should beexposed at once."

  "That," said the adjutant, in his deep, deliberate tone, "is preciselywhat I believe, but needed your evidence to establish. Now you willexcuse me from further talk about this or anything else until, say,after office hours to-morrow morning. I have much to attend to. If youand the chaplain will meet me at ten o'clock, we can settle variousmatters. Meantime I'll lock these papers in my desk." Across the dimhall-way, as the two friends left the office, stood the door of thesanctum of the post commander. It was just ajar, but there was no lightbeyond, and to all appearances the room was as deserted as it was dark.Rooke was just coming out of No. 12 as they returned thither.

  "I'm glad you're home, Mr. Davies, and I'll be gladder when you've gotthat pretty little bunch of nerves and nonsense off my hands and offthis military reservation."

  "She will be well enough to travel--when?" asked Davies, as placidly ashe could. Even when the wife of one's bosom has been behavingoutrageously it isn't pleasant to hear it from one's neighbors,unasked.

  "She could go to-morrow and be the better for it," said Rooke, bluntly."What she needs is a firm hand and a change of scene--and surroundings.We're too volatile hereabouts." And this it seems was practically whathe had told Almira herself, much to her scandal and dismay. Shepiteously asked why she couldn't see Dr. Burroughs; and was unfeelinglytold that there was no reason whatever, provided she started to-morrow;that he was at Ogallalla and would be very glad to see her. "Once upthere," said the old cynic, "you can have Burroughs and lollipops toyour heart's content."

  "Oh, doctor, but think of the peril, the danger," she moaned.

  "Tut, woman, you'll be in no such danger there as here," he answeredbrusquely; and Davies found her weeping dejectedly, but weeping to nopurpose. When morning came Barnickel and Katty were boxing up the laresand penates, and toward nightfall Mira herself was meekly, though notresignedly, bearing a hand. This indeed was not what she had picturedarmy life to be. Davies and the chaplain were to have joined Leonard asplanned at ten o'clock. At nine the orderly came to the door of No. 12,and said that Mr. Leonard would be very much obliged if Mr. Davies wouldcome to the office at once, and Davies went. Colonel Stone, as had beenarranged, was once more restored to his desk in the office, and thoughlooking gray and ten years older, was "on deck." He was absorbed inturning over some official papers, so Davies did not disturb him. Hewent into Leonard's den. The officer of the day was comparing the listof prisoners in the guard report with some memoranda on the adjutant'sdesk, but presently finished, shook hands with Davies and said welcomeback to Scott, then went his way.

  The moment he was gone Leonard whi
rled about in his chair. "Davies, youremember our locking those papers in this drawer last night?"

  "Certainly."

  "Well, look at it now, and as I found it ten minutes ago."

  The drawer was absolutely empty.