The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop

by Hamlin Garland

  XXXI

  OUTWITTING THE SHERIFF

  Maynard came over just as the wagon was being brought round, and with alook of concern on his big, red face, began: "Now see here, Curtis,you'd better take an escort. Those devils may be hanging round the edgeof the reservation. Say the word and I'll send Payne and a squad ofmen."

  "I don't think it at all necessary, Maynard. I don't want to excite thesettlers, and, besides, the troops are all needed here. I have no fearof the mob while daylight lasts. They will not attempt to take the manfrom me. I leave you in command. Wilson will keep the police out on thehills and report any movement of the mob."

  Maynard saluted. "Very well, Major; when may I look for you to return?"

  "Not before to-morrow night. I shall get in by sundown to-day, for it isall the way down hill; the return will be slower."

  "I don't like to see you go away with that cut-throat sheriff."

  "I am not alone," said Curtis. "I have two of the faithfulest men in theworld--Two Horns and Crow--both armed and watchful. Don't worry aboutme, Jack; keep yourself alert to-night."

  The wagon was now standing before the guard-house, and the prisoner wasbeing brought forth by Crow. Cut Finger, blinking around him in thenoon-day glare, saw his wife already in the wagon, and went resignedlytowards the agent, who beckoned to him.

  "You may sit beside her," Curtis signed, and the youth climbedsubmissively to his seat. "Mr. Sheriff, you are to take a place besidethe driver."

  Winters, swollen with rebellion because of the secondary part he had toplay, surlily consented to sit with Two Horns.

  "Crow, you camp here," called Curtis, and the trusted Tetong scrambledto his seat. "Drive on, Two Horns."

  For an hour and more no one spoke but Two Horns, gently urging thehorses to their best pace. Curtis welcomed this silence, for it gave himtime to take account of many things, chief of which was Brisbane'sviolent antagonism. "He overestimates my importance," he thought. "Butthat is the way such men succeed. They are as thorough-going indestroying the opposition as they are in building up their own side."

  He thought, too, of that last intimate hour with Elsie, and wished hehad spoken plainer with her. "It would have been definite if I hadsecured an answer. It would have been a negative, of course, and yetsuch is my folly, I still hope, and so long as there is the slightestuncertainty I shall waste my time in dreaming." His mind then turned tothe question of the mob. There came into his mind again the convictionthat they were waiting to intercept the sheriff at the boundary of thereservation; but he was perfectly certain that they would relinquishtheir designs when they found the sheriff reinforced by three determinedmen--one of them an army officer and the agent. He had no fear on thatscore; he only felt a little uneasy at leaving the agency.

  A sharp exclamation from Crow brought his dreaming to an end, and,looking up, he saw a horseman approaching swiftly, his reins held high,his elbows flapping. "That's young Streeter," he said, on the impulse.

  "So it is," replied Winters, hot with instant excitement. "I wonderwhat's his hurry?"

  Calvin came up with a rush, and when opposite set his horse on hishaunches with a wrench of his powerful wrist, calling, in lazy drawl:"Howdy, folks, howdy. Well, I see you've got 'im," he remarked toCurtis.

  "You've been ridin' hard," said Winters; "what's your rush? Anythingdoin'?"

  Calvin looked down at his panting, reeking horse, and carelesslyreplied: "Oh no. I'm just takin' it out o' this watch-eyed bronco." Heexchanged a look with the sheriff. "I thought I'd ketch ye 'fore ye leftthe agency. I'd like a word with you, sheriff; tumble out here for aminute. You'll wait a second, won't you, Major?"

  Curtis looked up at the sun. "Yes; but be quick."

  Calvin slid from his horse, and while the sheriff was climbing stifflydown on the opposite side slipped a note into Curtis's hand.

  As the sheriff listened to Calvin's low-voiced report Curtis glanced atthe paper. It was in pencil, and from Elsie. "The mob is waiting at thehalf-way house, cruel as wolves--turn back--for my sake."

  Curtis crumpled the paper in his hand and called out imperatively:"Come, Sheriff Winters, I cannot wait."

  Winters turned away smilingly. "That's all right, Cal. I didn'tunderstand, that's all. I'm glad the boys went home. Of course thetroops settled everything."

  Curtis caught Calvin's eye, and a nod, almost imperceptible, passedbetween them, and the cowboy was aware that the soldier understood thesituation. "Where did you leave the Senator?"

  "At the half-way house."

  "How was he?"

  "Feeling well enough to make a speech," replied Calvin.

  The other team, containing Grismore and the reporters, was by this timebut a few rods away, and, watching his opportunity, Curtis signalled:"Stop that wagon--hold them here." Calvin again nodded. "Drive on,"called Curtis. And Winters smiled with rare satisfaction.

  Some miles before reaching the border of the reservation, Two Horns, ata sign from Curtis, left the main road and began to climb a low ridge tothe east.

  The sheriff turned and called sharply: "Where is he going?"

  "He has his orders, Mr. Sheriff."

  "He's taking the wrong road. It is five miles farther that way."

  "He is following my orders."

  "But I don't see the sense of it."

  "You are only a passenger. If you don't care to ride with us you canwalk," replied Curtis, and the sheriff settled back into his seat with acurse. The second wagon had been left far behind, and would undoubtedlykeep the main road, a mishap Curtis had calculated upon.

  An hour or two of extra travel would not matter, especially as the mobwas being left safely on the left.

  The warning from Elsie had a singular effect upon the soldier. He grewalmost gay at the thought of her care of him. In some occult way thelittle card meant a great deal more than its few words. If they weredelayed at the half-way house they might not reach Pinon in time for theafternoon train, and so--"I may see her again."

  As he neared the boundary of the reservation the sheriff gained inresolution. Looking backward, he saw his own team following, outlinedlike a rock against the sky, just topping a ridge, and reaching over helaid his hand on the reins and pulled the horses to a stand.

  "Right here _I_ take charge!" he growled. "I'm on my own ground. Get outo' there!" he said to the prisoner, and as he spoke he drew his revolverand leaped to the ground.

  Cut Finger turned towards Curtis, whose face was set and stern. "Sitstill!" he commanded, with a gesture. "Put up your gun!" he said toCrow, who had drawn his revolver, ready to defend his prisoner.

  Winters flew into bluster. "Do you defy my authority now? I'm sheriff ofthis county!" he shouted. "Your control ends right here! This is Stateterritory."

  Curtis eyed him calmly. "I started out to give this man safe convoy tothe prison, and I'm going to do it! Not only that--he is a ward of thegovernment, even when lodged in the county jail, and it is my duty tosee that he has fair trial; then, and not till then, will I abandon himto the ferocity of your mob. I know your plan, and I have defeated it.Do you intend to ride with us?"

  The sheriff's courage again failed him as he looked up into the direct,unwavering eagle gaze of the young officer. He began to curse. "We'llhave your hide for this! You've gone too far! You've defied the laws ofthe county!"

  "Drive on," said Curtis, and Two Horns touched his ponies with the whip.

  "Halt, or I fire!" shouted Winters.

  "Drive on!" commanded Curtis, and Two Horns laid the whip hard on theback of his off horse.

  Winters fired, but the bullet went wide; he dared not aim to kill. CutFinger rose as if to leap from the wagon, but Crow seized him with onegreat brown paw and thrust his shining gun against his breast. "Sitdown, brother!" he said, grimly. "We'll care for you."

  The prisoner sank back into his seat trembling with excitement, whilethe wife began to cry piteously.

  Curtis, looking back, saw the sheriff waving his revolver maniacally,but
his curses fainted on the way. A sudden reaction to humor set in,and the young agent laughed a hearty chuckle which made his faithfulTetong aids break into sympathetic grins.

  Nevertheless, the case was not entirely humorous. In a certain sense hehad cut athwart the law in this last transaction, though in doing so hehad prevented an act of violence which would have still furtherembittered the tribe. "I am right," he said, and put away all furtherdoubt.

  The drive now settled into a race for the jail. "The sheriff, afterbeing picked up by his own party, will undertake to overhaul us,"reasoned Curtis, but that did not trouble him so much as the thought ofwhat lay before him.

  The road ran along Willow Creek, winding as the stream itself, andCurtis could not avoid the thought of an ambuscade. On the right wereclumps of tall willows capable of concealing horsemen, while on the leftthe hot, treeless banks rose a hundred feet above the wagon, and theloopings of the track prevented a view of what was coming. If the mobshould get impatient, or if they should suspect his trick, it would beeasy to send a detachment across the hills and intercept him. "Pushhard!" he signed to Two Horns.

  The road was smooth and dusty and descended rapidly, so that the horseshad little to do but guide the tongue. As the wagon rocked and reeledpast the ranch houses, the settlers had hardly time to discern whatmanner of man was driving, but they were thrown into fierce panic by theclatter of fleeing horses and the cloud of prophetic dust. The sheriffwas not in sight, and no sound of him could be detected in the whiz oftheir own wheels.

  At last Two Horns, with his moccasined foot on the brake, broke throughthe hills out upon the valley land, with Pinon City in sight. The moband the sheriff were alike left behind. Ambush was now impossible.

  "Easy now, Two Horns," called Curtis, with a smile and an explanatorygesture. "We're safe now; the angry white men are behind," and thereeking, dusty, begrimed horses fell into a walk.

  The hour for their arrival in Pinon City was fortunate. The town wasstill at supper, and in the dusk Curtis and prisoner escaped notice.They hurried across the main street and on towards the jail, which stoodon a little knoll just outside the town.

  As they drew up before the door a young man came out and stared withinquiring gaze.

  Curtis spoke first. "Are you the turnkey?"

  "I'm in charge here; yes, sir."

  "I am Captain Curtis, the agent. This is Cut Finger, charged with themurder of a white man. I have brought him in. The sheriff is justbehind." He turned to the prisoner and signed. "Get down! Here is thestrong-house where you are to stay!"

  Cut Finger clambered slowly down, his face rigid, his limbs tremulouswith emotion. To go to the dark room of the strong-house was the worstfate that could overtake a free man of the hills, and his heartfluttered like a scared bird.

  "It would be a good plan to let his wife go in with him," suggestedCurtis. "It will save trouble."

  The poor, whimpering girl-wife followed her culprit husband up the stepsand into the cold and gloomy hall to which they were admitted, her eyeson the floor, her sleeping child held tightly in her arms. When thegate shut behind him Curtis signed to the prisoner this advice:

  "Now be good. Do not make any trouble. Do what these people tell you.Eat your food. I will ask the sheriff to let your wife see you in themorning, and then she will go home again. She can come once each monthto see you." He touched the wife on the arm, and when she comprehendedhis gesture she uttered again that whimpering moan, and as she bent herhead in dumb agony above her babe, Curtis gently led her to the door,leaving Cut Finger to the rigor of the white man's law.