CHAPTER XXV.
The Gray Fox had returned to his own. The general commanding thedepartment was spending a month at head-quarters--for him, who lovedthe mountains and the field, a most unusual thing. The wild tribes ofArizona, with the exception of one specially exempted band ofChiricahuas and a few hopeless desperadoes with a price on their heads,were gathered to their reservations--a most unheard-of thing in allprevious annals of the territory--and a season of unprecedented gayetyhad dawned on the post of Fort Whipple and the adjacent martialsettlement, the homes of the staff and their families. The general andhis good wife, childless, and boundless in their hospitality, hadopened their doors to army wayfarers. New officers were there from'Frisco and the States. Matrons and young women, new to Arizona, hadcome to enliven the once isolated posts of the desert and mountain.Major Dennis, of one supply department, was accompanied by a young andlovely and lively wife, who danced, if Dennis did not. Major Prime, ofanother, had recently been joined by his wife and two daughters,bright, vivacious girls, just out of school and into society, and,perhaps most important of all, Colonel and Mrs. Darrah, of theInfantry, had come, accompanied by their daughter Evelyn, as beautifuland dashing a belle as had ever bewildered the bachelors about theGolden Gate, and from every camp or post within a hundred miles or morejunior officers had been called in to Prescott, on "Board,"court-martial duty or leave, until nearly a dozen were gathered, andwhile boards and courts dragged their slow length, and maps, reportsand records of the recent campaign were being laboriously yawned overat odd intervals during the sunshiny days, far more thought and timeand attention were being given to riding, driving, tramping and picnicparties--even croquet coming in for honorable mention--while everynight had its "hop" and some nights their ball that lasted well towardmorning, and for the first time in its history "head-quarters" wasactually gay. Time had been in the recent past when a Fort Whipple hopconsisted, as said a cynical chief commissary, in "putting on fulluniform and watching Thompson dance a waltz," there being then but oneofficer at the station equipped with the requisite accomplishment. Nowthere were more dancers than girl partners. The latter were in theirglory, and the married women in clover. "_Let_ them have a good time,"said the chief, when his pragmatical adjutant would have suggestedsending some of them back to their posts to finish maps and reportsthey were only neglecting here. "But they'll be getting impatient atdivision head-quarters," said the man of tape and rule. It was a whipwhich often told on department commanders, but not on Crook. "_Let_them have a good time. Every one of those youngsters has been scoutingand fighting and living on bacon and beans for the last six months, andI like to see them dance." The office-bred officer sighed, and wonderedwhat the papers, or Congress, would say if they knew it. Theservice-tried soldier said he'd take all the raps and responsibility,and that ended it. So here were the young gallants of the cavalry andinfantry, active, slender, sinewy, clear-eyed, bronze-cheeked fellows,as a rule, capital dancers and riders, all-round partners, too, thoughfew had a penny laid by for a rainy day, and several had mortgaged payaccounts. There was Billy Ray, from Camp Cameron, who could outride a_vaquero_, and "Legs" Blake from McDowell, who could outclimb anApache, and Stryker, of the scouts, who had won fame in a year, and"Lord" Mitchell, his classmate, whom the troopers laughed at for a fopthe first few months, and then worshipped for his daring after thepitched battle at the Caves. There were three or four young benedictswith better halves in the far East, who had forgotten little of theirdancing days, and not too much of their wooing, and there were lesserlights among the subs, and two or three captains still uncaught, andeven one or two men of whom others spoke not too highly, like Craven,and "that man Gleason," to whom Blake would not speak at all. Thenthere were Steele and Kelly from Wickenberg and Date Creek, and Strongwas to come up from Almy, bringing with him in chains the desperado,'Patchie Sanchez, secreted by his own people when charged with thekilling of the interpreter, but tamely sold when a price was set on hishead. And the commander sent still another missive to Archer, whom theluckier general held in especial affection, enclosing one from the goodwife to Mrs. Archer, begging that she and Lilian should be their guestsfor a week, "and as long thereafter as practicable," that theengagement might be ratified and celebrated, "for we all think Mr.Willett the most fortunate of men."
And then, of course, there were Wickham and Bright, the general's otheraides, who were famous entertainers, and then, above all,perhaps--pitted for the first time against all the soldier beaux ofArizona--there was the general's latest acquisition, handsome,graceful, charming Hal Willett, who had, with characteristic modesty,made no mention of the fact that he was an engaged man until Mrs.Stannard's letter to Mrs. Crook told all about it, and we, who knew andloved Mrs. Stannard, knew just why she wrote, and never blamed her, asdid Willett.
The very night of the very day it came he was dancing gloriously with,and had been saying things to, Evelyn Darrah that she one day earlierhad listened to with bated breath. Now his mustache swept her prettyear as he lowered his head in the midst of the loveliest "glide," andmurmured something more, whereat she had suddenly swung herself out ofthe circle of his arm, swept him a stately courtesy and fairlystartled--_stunned_ him by the question: "Isn't that just a littlehigh--for a gentleman's game, Mr. Willett?"
The very words were enough to amaze him! "What on earth do you mean?"he demanded, as soon as he recovered self-control.
"I mean," said she, straightening to her full height again, and lookinghim fairly in the eyes, "that for an engaged man you have exceeded, or,as you would say, 'raised the limit.'"
There were dozens dancing, chatting, laughing about them, and some fewwatching, for his attentions, first to pretty Mrs. Dennis, and then thedevotions by means of which he had swept aside all other suitors ofEvelyn Darrah, had set all tongues to wagging. "The old Willett overagain," said Bright, who had known him at the Point. Only that day hadthe mail come up from Almy and McDowell, and he ought to have knownwhat it would betray. There must have been other letters--men'sletters--for at mess there had been sly allusions to the fluctuationsof fortune, the comparative values of "straights" and "pats," and thisgirl had turned and taunted him with the very words of that infernal,and he had hoped, forgotten game. Moreover, she, a brilliant,beautiful, practised woman of society, by no means the delicate andsensitive little desert flower whose worship he had won so readily, haddared to fence with him, had interested, piqued, fascinated, and nowwellnigh bewitched him. He was not yet well of his wounds by any mannerof means. He was still weak--far too weak to ride or climb or do muchin the way of walking, but he could look, and be most interestinglolling in an invalid chair. Women had come and ministered to him inhis convalescence, and pretty Mrs. Dennis had made quite a fool ofherself, said certain elders, but when it came to cutting in for EvelynDarrah, Willett had had to be up and doing, even finally, for her andher alone, as he murmured, daring to dance. There was nothing else hedid so supremely well, and men and women watched them enviously,perhaps, yet delightedly, and men and women were watching now as hefollowed her to her seat, dropped to the one beside her, and bentabsorbedly over her again, pale, agitated, and they saw her speaking,saw him vehemently pleading, saw him prevailing, for his pallor andemotion lent force to his impassioned words. Practised belle, coquette,flirt she might have been, but the woman is rare indeed who can utterlydisbelieve, in face of such a combination, that she at least is loved.Stella's impassioned letters once lay in unbroken packages upon hismantel. Another star had risen and set, and sent its missives only tothe ashes of his grate, and now this very night, hidden in his desk,lay long, close-written, criss-crossed, exquisite pages, theoutpourings of a young and guileless and glorious nature, and they,too, lay, as did that early Stella's, unread, unheeded, almostundesired, for the man was inflamed by this dauntless woman's defianceof him, and the devil in him was urging: woo her, win her, conquer her,_crush_ her, come what may!
That night was but one of several in quick succession. On every hand hehad to smile, a
nd say conventional words of thanks for the pointed andrepeated congratulations showered upon him. Men and women went out oftheir way at every turn to remind him, as it were, that he was amortgaged man; and yet, so strangely was he constituted, life for himat the moment seemed to have but one object worth attaining--EvelynDarrah. Day and night he sought her, pursued her, and men began to shunhim, and he never heeded. Women began to shrink from her, and she saw,yet, for to some there is the gambler's madness in the game, she _let_them shrink. What were their slights in comparison with the thrillingjoy of this conquest? This man was at her feet, abject, pleading,praying. It was hers to spurn or sway him as she would. Never doubtingher own power to turn him any instant adrift, she found delight in thepassion of so virile, graceful, glorious a lover, the man of whom shehad heard other women speak for three long years, and now he washers--hers to do with as she dared--to break or make as was hercaprice. What--what if men looked stern and women shrank? This was agame well worth the candle, let them sneer who would.
What had promised to be a fortnight of jollification had become chargedwith matters of grave moment. Strong had arrived, bringing the shackledSanchez, and, when hospitably bidden to stay a week and have some fun,he said he reckoned he ought to get back as quick as possible--"the OldMan had much to bother him," this in confidence to Bright. "The OldMan's coming up here," said Bright, "quick as the general can coax him,and he's just going to have a welcome that will warm the cockles of hisheart," and then, like the loyal aide he was, Bright essayed to makeArcher's adjutant see that while the general commanding had beenconstrained to differ with the commander at Camp, Almy, he personallyheld him in affection and esteem. "I'm afraid," said he, "GeneralArcher thinks he is misunderstood about this 'Tonio business,and--and--Harris. Here's Willett, now, perfectly willing to drop thewhole case against 'Tonio and say no more about it."
"What?" said Strong, in amaze. "Why, at Almy he damned him time andagain--swore he had twice tried to kill him. If he acquits 'Tonio, whomin God's name does he suspect?" asked Strong, a queer thought occurringto him as he recalled the furious words of the deserter Dooley, _alias_Quigley, another prisoner to be tried.
Bright dodged. "The queer thing about it," said he, "is that Brownthere, at McDowell, is demanding investigation, and says he believesthere was collusion in camp--men who insist that 'Tonio's a trump. Andnow we have news from Harris, and he demands investigation, in 'Tonio'sname--says there's a side to the story only 'Tonio can tell, and willtell only to the Big Chief."
Strong pondered a moment. "There's more than one queer thing we can'tfathom at Almy," said he. "Harris and 'Tonio never had anything to dowith that Sanchez crowd. 'Tother Sanchez, and Munoz, helped the chaseof 'Tonio--did their best to catch him, and yet over at McDowellthey're thick as thieves."
"Not a bit of it! They never saw each other until--well, somebody madeBrown believe the general would censure his showing favors to 'Tonio,so what does he do but order him in with Sanchez. That night both getaway. Then 'Patchie's own people brought him back for cash. There isn'tmoney or blood enough in all Arizona to tempt them to lay hands on'Tonio. Sanchez wants to talk with the general, says he can tell thingsthe chief would like to know. Can he?"
"How should I know?" asked Strong. "There's more of a mix in thisbusiness than I can straighten out. It looks to me as though more thanone man had his grudge against this fine feathered bird that came downto show us how to tackle Apaches," and Bright changed the subject, aswas his way when men or women ventured to question the methods of thePowers. All the same, he told his general of Strong's suspicions, andthat night the general summoned both Sanchez and Strong, and there wasa scene in the moonlight, down by the old log guard-house.
Sanchez, heavily shackled and scared almost out of his wits in thebelief that he would speedily be hanged, or shot to death, fell on hisknees at sight of the tall, bearded commander, and strove to seize hishand. In the indescribable jargon of the Indo-Mexican frontier, heimplored the general's mercy; he wailed that he was a poor and wrongedand innocent man. He had no thought of killing--only inducing theinterpreter to leave him, and the interpreter tried to shoot him. Itwas to save his own life he slashed at his guardian and ran, neverknowing he had hurt him. He was frightened at McDowell; thoughtsoldiers planned to lynch him. He dared not stay. He had filed hisshackles and the window bars, and was watching opportunity to tear themloose and run, when 'Tonio was put in his cell. That night he saw hischance, climbed out and slid away to the mountains, just before thethird relief was inspected, but he did not wake or tell 'Tonio. 'Toniowas a wicked Indian, who twice tried to kill Lieutenant Willett. 'Tonioshould be hanged. 'Tonio's people hated Sanchez, because he "alwaysfriend to the Big Chief Crook and the Americanos." 'Tonio knew where tofind him, it seems, and set Lieutenant Harris to catch him. Now, saidSanchez, if Big Chief only would let him go he would bring in two,three 'Patchie-Mohaves, 'Tonio's own people, who saw 'Tonio shoot andtry to kill Teniente Willett--saw him shoot and club, shoot twice.Sanchez called on the Blessed Virgin and all the saints to witness hisinnocence, his entire truth, and the chief, with just one gesture ofdisbelief and disgust, turned quietly away.
"You may as well tell him, Wickham," said he, and, with Bright at hisside, strode back to head-quarters hill, leaving Strong and his senioraide to settle the matter.
"You damned fool!" said Blackbeard contemptuously. "It wasn't 'Tonio;it was your own people gave you up. It wasn't 'Tonio; it was your ownbrother shot Teniente Willett. His own revolver was found at the spot.Your own people say he did it!"
"Lie! Lie!" shrieked Sanchez, livid from fright and amaze. "Jose nohave pistol that night. Jose lose him to Case--monte--two days before!_Case_ shoot him! _Case_ shoot him! Munoz see him. 'Patchie-Mohave seehim! Look, Senor Capitan, I bring them all--all say so."
"I thought we'd be getting at bottom facts before we finished with ourgreaser gang," said Wickham, with no symptom of either surprise oremotion. "Very good, Sanchez. We'll give you the chance to swear to itand bring your witnesses. Take him in, sergeant, and keep this toyourself. Now bring out Dooley."
Half an hour later, just as the midnight call of the sentries was goingthe rounds, Hal Willett, after whispered words of good-night to a talland slender shadow at Darrah's door, came swiftly up the steps of hisnew quarters, and was surprised to find a little group at the adjoiningveranda. Two civilians were there, one of whom he knew to be thesheriff. Strong was there and Wickham was giving some instructions inlow tone to the three.
"You start at dawn," were the words that caught Willett's ear, "and youshould have him at Prescott within the week. Sure you need no furtherescort?"
"Sure," was the sententious answer of the tall civilian, as hesauntered to the steps.
"What is it?" asked Willett, at a venture.
"Just a flyer, Willett," said Blackbeard, in the most off-hand mannerimaginable. "Sanchez swears it was Case who shot you, and we're havinghim up to explain."
For an instant four men stood watching Willett's face. Pale at almostany time of late, it seemed to have turned ashen in the pallid lightabout them. He swayed, too, a trifle, as though from sudden shock, andit was a second or two before he found his voice. Then:
"What infernal rot! Didn't they find my own pistol, that 'Tonio hadstolen, where his fellows or he had dropped it in their flight?"
"O, Lord, yes," was the airy answer, "five miles away. But Harris foundthe real one, right there at the spot. Case won it from Sanchez justtwo days before. So he'll be here with 'Tonio the end of the week."