by Charles King
CHAPTER XXVI.
REVELATIONS.
When Colonel Rand arrived from Omaha the next afternoon, and Blake methim at the depot, he found that there was less for him to do than heimagined. He had known Ray well for many years of his army life, hadserved with him in Arizona, and was one of his stanchest friends. He waswild with enthusiasm when Truscott's despatch was received, telling ofWayne's rescue and Ray's heroic conduct, and he was furious over thetidings that his gallant friend had been placed in arrest on chargesthat had not been investigated at department headquarters, or by anybodywho could represent Ray's interests. Even before the telegrams came infrom the regiment protesting against Ray's trial in their absence, hehad started for Kansas City armed with a copy of the charges andspecifications, had easily determined that the civilians cited aswitnesses were men who really knew little or nothing, but had only avague, "hearsay" idea of matters, which vigorous cross-questioningdeveloped that they had mainly derived from letters or talks ofGleason's, or had got from Rallston himself, who, said they, was riledbecause he couldn't play off a lot of broken-down mustangs for soundhorses on that board. No one could swear that he had seen Ray drink; noone could swear he had played any game for any stake; no one couldtestify to a single act of his that was in the faintest degreeunofficerlike or unbecoming a gentleman. Indeed, even the cads with whomGleason consorted seemed to have become inspired with contempt. And Randwent back to Omaha satisfied that the charges were all conspiracy. ButRallston had kept out of his way. He could not reach him. No one knewwhere he was. Some went so far as to say he was ashamed of having beenmixed up with Gleason in such a low piece of business. Even Mrs.Rallston at Omaha could tell nothing of her husband's whereabouts, andwas in great distress over the letters from her brother announcing thetrouble in which he was enveloped, all on account of Rallston'srascality as she felt, though he would not say. Then came the fearfulnews that Gleason was murdered by her brother, and the next day she hadsold one of the beautiful solitaires that Rallston had given her in thedays when he was a dashing wooer, and on the same train with ColonelRand she hastened to Cheyenne. Blake was presented to her as shealighted from the cars, and conducted her to the parlor of the hotel,where in few words he told them of the discovery of Rallston's lettersin the dead man's pockets, and of Wolfs gauntlet in the dead man's room.The detectives had urged that nothing should be revealed in this lastmatter, as every effort was now being made to capture the ex-sergeant,and that little man from Denver had already a reply from his chief,saying that Rallston was there and could be produced at any time. PoorMrs. Rallston! She winced at the professional technicalities, but wrotea hurried despatch, care of the Rocky Mountain Detective Agency,enjoining him to come to them at once; breathing no word of reproach orblame, but telling him that his letters were now in Ray's hands, andthey felt that he bitterly regretted the part he had taken in connectionwith Gleason. He must come and exonerate her brother from the charge ofaccepting a bribe, to which he was assigned as the sole witness.
There was a further conference that need not be detailed. Colonel Randdesired first to see some of the prominent business men whom he knew, ashe proposed to have Ray bailed out instanter no matter what that younggentleman's wishes might be, and Blake, giving her his arm, escortedMrs. Rallston through the bustling streets until they reached the jail.Even then there was a little knot of hangers-on watching with wolfishcuriosity every comer. The officials touched their hats to Blake and hisveiled companion, and looked admiringly at her tall, graceful form.Already something was beginning to whisper that justice had been blinderthan ever, had been groping painfully in the dark, and had nabbed thewrong man. Mr. Perkins and his jury had been basely and ungratefullyalluded to as a batch of leather heads, and it behooved the sheriffs andothers to look to the buttered side of their bread, lest it, too, shouldfall in the municipal mud. Blake felt her trembling as they passedthrough the office into a long and dimly-lighted hall.
"Courage, Mrs. Rallston," he whispered. "We are going to lose him, youand I, but it's to a very different captivity. Oh, he's gone _this_ timepast all saving. Just wait till you see her!" And before she could askone question in her wonderment, a door was opened, there was a fond,welcoming cry of "Nell!" and for the first time in all her life, so faras Ray could tell, the sister fell forward, fainting, into his arms.Blake assisted in carrying her to the sofa, brought a glass of water,and then, as she began to revive, he silently withdrew and left themtogether.
Later that afternoon Colonel Rand, Mr. Green, and Blake had a quietconsultation with the prisoner. The matter of bail, said Rand, wasalready settled. On his representations half a dozen prominent citizenshad signified their willingness to act. Mr. Green stated that he hadreceived advice of other offers, at which Blake was seen to give him akick under the table whereon their papers were spread. There was reallynothing to prevent the arrangement being made this evening so that hemight not have to pass another night under the jail roof, but Ray wasfirm. He would not return to Russell in arrest; he would not accept hisrelease until it _could_ be freedom; he was treated courteously andconsiderately by the sheriff's people, was allowed this comfortable roominstead of a cell, and he resolutely refused all offer of bail so longas there remained a pretext for the continuance of his arrest on othercharges. Rand himself, who had been accustomed to his quick, impetuousways for years, could hardly recognize in the Ray of to-day thereckless, devil-may-care, laughing fellow of two years ago. He seemedutterly changed. He was years older in manner, grave, patient, tolerantof the opinions of those about him, but doubly tenacious of his own, andsurprisingly capable of demonstrating their justice.
"It has simply come to this, colonel. I stand charged at divisionheadquarters of crimes that if proven would dismiss me from the service.The death of the principal witness is the worst mishap that could havebefallen me. It leaves me unvindicated, because now we cannot impeachhis testimony; because now my enemies can say that had he lived theresult might have been different. I urge, I claim that I _must_ betried; and Blake here is my witness that I have said so from the veryfirst. Nothing but a trial can clear me fully of the infamous chargesyou hold there, and no friend of mine will delay it an instant. So farfrom postponing that court, I say hasten it. Let it sit at once. I amready to-day, _any_ day to meet and refute the charges. I need no friendfrom the regiment, from anywhere. I shall not draw on my field recordfor a cent's worth of consideration. The case must be tried on itsmerits. I do not believe a witness need be called for the defence, butuntil vindicated I protest against any step that may send me back toRussell. Answer as to _that_, and then we will come to this matter of mysituation here."
And Rand agreed with him that the court should meet forthwith, and thattelegrams should be sent at once to division headquarters urging that nopostponement be granted. The despatch was written, and Blake took it tothe office. Then Ray went on with his talk:
"And now, colonel, I have waited for your coming that in your presence Imight refer to two points that, as Mr. Green has said, bore heavilyagainst me with the coroner's jury, and would have to be met should thecase come to trial. Until it come to trial there are one or two matterswhich I will _not_ explain, simply because they concern others morethan they do me. As you have seen, suspicion is already pointing toSergeant Wolf. I have connected him with the murder from the first. Thedetective has ascertained beyond doubt that that was his glove; that ahorse _was_ tied at the northeast corner of the hospital yard about thetime of the occurrence, and that a bandsman--the drummer--is almostcertain that my pistol, which did the work, was in the sergeant'spossession the night he deserted. I _know_ it was: this note will proveit." And he produced from an envelope bearing the Laramie City postmark,and addressed to him at Russell, a sheet of note-paper on which, withoutdate or signature, was written, "I had to take your pistol. Time waseverything. The enclosed twenty dollars will pay." "Compare thatwriting," he continued, "with dozens of specimens to be found in theoffice at Russell, and that will settle it.
; "Now, the jury could not understand why I refused to let Hogan have mypistol that night. It was because I knew it was gone, and I did not wishany one else to know it. The colonel could not understand why I wouldnot tell the cause of Wolf's desertion. I did not wish any one to know.Everybody, I presume, wanted to know how I explained away the presenceof my pistol at the scene, and that was another thing I wanted kept inthe dark until--until released from a promise that involved the peace ofone whom I was bound to protect. (Mrs. Rallston's eyes were dilating totwice their usual size.) As soon as notified of the decision of thatjury, I wrote saying that it might soon be necessary to save my honor toreveal what I had kept so sacred. No answer came until--until lastnight; full and free release from my promise; but I believe that all maybe kept sacred still. _You_ will understand that I am prepared toexplain these matters should the case come to trial, but not before."
Even as he was speaking there came a knock at the door: a telegram forMr. Green. The lawyer opened and read it, thought earnestly a moment,and then left the room, saying he would soon return. It was gettingdark, and Ray lighted the oil lamp that stood upon its bracket. Rand waswatching his every movement, and had been quietly jotting some memorandaof his statements. As the young cavalryman returned to his seat by hissister's side and took her hand in his, the colonel remarked,--
"Ray, I thought I knew you pretty well all these years, but I believeI'm only just beginning to get acquainted with you. Blake said you hadastonished him, but your capacity for taking things coolly is anunexpected trait to more than one, I fancy. Now I'm going to take Mrs.Rallston over to the hotel for tea, and then we are coming back. TellBlake I want him to apply to his post commander for a seven days' leaveto-night. I'll send it out and see that he gets it. If you won't go backto Russell he must be here with you. Ah! here he comes now!"
"Where's Green?" was the exclamation that greeted their ears as Blakebolted in, all excitement. "I want him, quick. Billy, they've got thatman Wolf, and he wants to see you or somebody. He's pretty near gone andfought like a tiger, they say."
"Where is he?" asked Rand, springing to his feet.
"Just out here at the edge of town in a blackguardly sort of dive. It'smy belief they've kept him there hid ever since the night of the murder.Come, we must have Green and the sheriff. I know Ray can go with us.There'll be a carriage in a minute."
"Let me escort you to the hotel, Mrs. Rallston," said Rand, "then I cango with them. This means confirmation of our theory and the end of ourtroubles," he said, reassuringly. Ray, very pale and very quiet, kissedher good-night and saw her to the hall, promising to send for her assoon as was possible. Then, as for a moment he was left alone, he tookfrom an inner pocket a crumpled little note that Blake had brought himthe previous evening, read it lingeringly, though with eyes thatsoftened and glowed with a light that no one yet had seen, and when hehad finished he stood there gazing at the signature and the few wordswith which the note was concluded:
"Believe me, dear Mr. Ray, she never for an instant thought you guilty. And now good-night. I shall pray God to watch over and cheer you. _Need_ I tell you that your trouble has made me only the more
Loyally your friend,
MARION SANFORD."
Oh, Ray! Ray! Here was strength and cheer and comfort for twenty men. Nowonder you could bear the slings and arrows of your outrageous fortunewith that charming endorsement! No wonder people thought you changed!What would people think--or rather what would they say if they knew ofthat letter and its very comforting conclusion? What will be said ofour heroine, Marion, when these damaging particulars are brought tolight? What _would_ the girls at Madame Reichard's have said? thoughthey knew she had a romantic streak in her, and was a worshipper ofheroes? What will the cold and unsympathetic and critical reader remarkof the unmaidenly lack of reserve which prompted those last few lines?What will Marion herself say when she hears of them as thus ruthlesslydragged to the bar of public opinion? Poor Marion! Her cheeks willredden, her eyes flash and suffuse, her heart beat like a trip-hammer,her white teeth set, her soft lips will firmly close. She will beannoyed. She _may_ admit that in cold blood--under any othercircumstances--she would never have so committed herself, and thatnothing but the thought of the wrongs and sorrows and sufferings thathad been heaped one after another upon the undeserving head of thatluckiest of young Kentuckians would ever have betrayed her into such anoutburst of sentiment. She may admit what indeed was the truth, that shewrote the whole thing after a vehement interview with Grace, at a timewhen she thought she saw her gallant friend dragged off to jail,believing he had been denied by those whom he was actually suffering toshield. She may say that, had there been time, she would have lesspointedly worded the closing sentence. But of one thing you may becertain,--once and for all,--she said just what she thought, andnow--against the opinion of the whole world if need be--she will standby those words through thick and thin,--she will never retract.
And as for Ray: he gazed upon them as he might upon a heaven-inspiredmessage from a better world; he bowed his head and kissed, reverently,humbly, prayerfully, the sweet and thrilling words; and then, andthen--he bent his knee and bowed his head, and with deeper reverence,with humility such as he had never known before, with a prayer that camefrom the depths of his loyal heart, he thanked God for the infiniteblessing that had come to him through the darkness of his bittertrials; he rose calm, strengthened, steadfast, as he heard therapidly-approaching footsteps of his friends.
Less than half an hour thereafter a little group sat in silence around arude bed in a darkened room. Outside, sullen and scowling, tworough-looking men, the owners of the establishment, were guarded by theofficers of the law, while within, Ray, Blake, Mr. Green, the sheriff,and an officer of the territorial court were listening to the dyingdeposition of the Saxon soldier Wolf,--the physicians had declared itimpossible for him to live another day.
Late on the night of the murder three men, returning townwards from the"house on the hill," had come suddenly upon a gray horse dragging a manby the stirrup. They picked the man up and carried him into thegambling-house at the edge of town, where they laid him upon this bed.Noting the U. S. on the shoulder of the horse and his cavalryequipments, they sent him away in charge of one of their number, andproceeded to search the pockets of the still insensible soldier, who wasclad in comparatively new "ranchman's" clothing, and who wore a gauntleton his left hand. He had revived for a moment, was told that he wasamong friends and had nothing to fear. He said his horse had stumbledinto an _acequia_ in the darkness and fallen on him, and now he wantedto get up. They assured him no horse was there; that, finding himinsensible, they had carried him to this place, where he was all right"if he kept quiet," and Wolf soon realized that he was in a notorious"dive" where soldiers were often drugged and robbed of their money. Hewas locked in that night, and though suffering intensely from internalinjuries, he strove to make his escape. The next morning people in theneighborhood heard appalling cries and uproar, but such things had oftenhappened there before in the drunken fights that took place, and notuntil this day had it leaked out in some way that there was a man theredying from injuries received partly in a runaway and partly in a fightin the house. The police made a raid, and there discovered the very manfor whom the detectives and the military were searching high and low.His first words were to ask for Lieutenant Ray, then for a physician anda lawyer. And now his story was almost done. Ray was fully, utterlyexonerated.
In brief, it was about as follows: He was mad with rage at the treatmenthe had received at the hands of Lieutenant Gleason, and at a deed of hiswhich he would not detail,--Lieutenant Ray knew, and that was enough. Hehimself had only one thought,--to follow at once on the trail, to findhim alone if possible, and to compel him to fight him as gentlemenfought, _a outrance_, in the old country. He took Ray's pistol, andafter getting some papers and some clothing he needed from the bandbarracks, he went to the stables, raised the shutter, and crept into thewindow of
the stall which held his horse, led him noiselessly out overthe earthen floor to the rear entrance, which was easily opened from theinside, and long before dawn was on the road to Fetterman, in pursuit ofthe stage. He had no fear of ranch people betraying him as a deserter.They knew nothing but what he was carrying despatches. He had receivedplenty of money but a short time before through friends in Dresden; hehoped to secure fresh horses, and overtake the stage before it reached aranch where they stopped for meals several hours south of Fetterman. Hisplan was wild and impracticable, enough to throw doubts on his sanity,but he only thought of revenge, he said; he was determined to waylayGleason and force him to fight. But his plan failed. His horse gave outlong before he could get another; he left him at a cattle ranch finally,and went ahead on a borrowed "plug," but to no purpose. Gleason reachedFetterman ahead of him, and by the time he neared there he knew that hisdesertion had been telegraphed. Still he thought to follow as a scout orteamster, and bought rough canvas and woolen clothing; hung around theneighborhood, but avoided all soldiers; learned of Gleason's going withWebb, and actually crossed the Platte and followed on their trail, untilhe met him coming back at the head of the little escort. Keeping hiseager lookout far ahead, he had easily hidden himself and his horsewhere he could watch them as they went by, and had recognized hisvictim, turned on his tracks, and once more trailed him back; had losthim and followed the wrong "buckboard" from Fetterman, and had gonetowards Rock Creek before he found out that Gleason went by way of FortLaramie. A countryman going in to Laramie City had taken, some daysprevious, the note with its enclosure to Ray,--he could not steal, hesaid, and at last, having recovered his horse, he returned by night toCheyenne, easily learned of Lieutenant Gleason's presence at Russell,and that very night rode out across the prairie, tied his gray to a postnear the northeast corner of the hospital enclosure, and stole toGleason's back-yard. Not for an instant had he ever flinched in hispurpose. He knew the lieutenant was officer of the day, and that hewould be out to visit his sentries after midnight; but it occurred tohim he would have no weapon but the sabre, and he meant to offer himfair fight. A light was burning in the rear room. He peeped through theblinds and saw him undressing as though to go to bed. He could wait nolonger. He opened the kitchen door, which Shea had left unlocked,entered the house, and rapped at Gleason's door. The lieutenant supposedit to be Shea, probably, and opened it himself. "Behold the man you haveoutraged, I said. I give you one instant only to get your pistol. Wefight here to the death. He sprang back, still facing me; he was lividwith fear; he called for help, help! he ordered me to leave, he was acraven and would not fight; he called louder, and then I fired; he gavea scream and fell towards me on his face. I had hurled my gauntlet athim as I challenged, but there was no time to pick it up. I turned andfled. Some one seized me at the back gate, but I hurled him aside andran on tiptoe to my horse. I heard voices coming, but no one could hearme. I led my horse some distance; then mounted and galloped madly thisway. Near town he stumbled, fell, and rolled on me, and I knew no moretill I heard them say he was dead and that the Herr Lieutenant hadkilled him. Then I strove to escape, and we had a fearful fight. Theyovercame and drugged me, I think, but again I came to, and begged to belet to see you. They keep me for the reward, perhaps, but they see medying, and the police come at last."
In the solemn hush of the darkened room, far from the land where he hadbeen known and loved, where doubtless his gifts had been valued, and hislife, until wrecked by that duel, was honored, the Saxon soldier laybreathing his last. Mad or sane, there was no one there to rightlyjudge. The one trait that shone to the end was the strong love of theprofession which he could have adorned so well. His glazing eyes lookedwistfully into Ray's pale face; his tremulous hand sought that of theyoung officer, who knelt there by his side; in faint, broken accents hespoke his last earthly plea:
"I was a gentleman once, Herr Lieutenant. I am soldier--even now. Youare the soldier the men all love. May I not take your hand?"