Benton of the Royal Mounted Part 2

-_Goldsmith_

Captain Richard Bargrave, Superintendent of L Division-better known by the fond appellation of "Father"-sauntered slowly along the narrow sidewalk leading from his quarters to the orderly-room; the aged black-and-white setter "Bob," his constant companion, keeping step behind.

How well many of us can recall that tall, spare, soldierly figure, and the walk with its faint suggestion of old-fashioned cavalry swagger, while the whispers of "Look out! here's Father coming now!" sent us all scuttling about our duties. How we used to fume and curse (behind his back) at his numerous erratic bursts of temper and little eccentricities. How his polished sarcasm and fluent adjectives used to curl us up and, incidentally-excite our envy. And yet-how we learned to trust and respect that irascible but kindly old aristocratic face, with its sweeping fair mustache. Aye!-

He pa.s.sed as a Man in our critical eyes, Stern, yet kindly-simple, yet wise.

Who'd upheld his rank since his service began As "An Officer, and ... a Gentleman."

"Father's a rum old beggar but, begad, he's a gentleman and always gives you a square deal," was our invariable retort to divers disparaging criticisms from members of other divisions, less fortunate, perhaps, in the stamp of their own particular "Officer Commanding."

Benton, who, attired in a red serge tunic-borrowed from Dudley for the occasion-was looking through the billiard-room window, watched his approach with interest. When nearing the orderly-room the old dog, seeing "the Monk's" pup in supreme possession of the step, jumped forward with a threatening growl to eject the usurper of his own customary lounge. In the scuffle that ensued they got between "Father's"

legs and nearly upset him.

"d.a.m.n the dogs! d.a.m.n the dogs!" he chuckled softly.

And, stepping over them carefully, with a fond, benevolent smile, he pa.s.sed on through the open door, half humming, half whistling a hymn tune, which was not, however, prompted by especial piety. It was a habit of his. But to the observant sergeant it was an omen.

"He _is_ in a good temper," he muttered with relief, and quietly he awaited the summons that he knew must come.

It came presently. "Sergeant Major!... Oh, Sergeant Major!" came the thin, high, cultured voice. "Has Sergeant Benton reported in yet from Elbow Vale?"

The gruff official holding that rank and who was familiar to most members of the Division as "Mickey," saluted and replied in the affirmative.

"Send him in!" came the order, and shortly Ellis found himself standing at "attention," facing his seated superior.

"That will do, Sergeant Major!... Kindly close the door," and they were alone.

There was silence for a moment or two, during which the O.C. rummaged amongst some letters on his desk. He found the one he wanted and scrutinized it carefully. "Sergeant Benton," he began, with a sudden snap in his tones and a quick upward glance that strung that individual up to tense expectancy, "I have here a letter-an _anonymous_ letter-accusing you-of-grossly and maliciously-a.s.saulting a well known and respected citizen of Elbow Vale on the night of the twelfth instance.... Motive unknown-all names-with the exception of your own-omitted. Said a.s.sault of such severe character that its recipient is still confined to bed.

"Now, sir!... although I generally make a rule of treating anonymous correspondence with the contempt it deserves-there seems something vaguely familiar in this handwriting that inclines me on this occasion to revoke my usual practise, and make a few inquiries into this puzzle.

I look to you for the key. You have the reputation of being a truthful man in this Division.... Is the statement in this letter correct?"

Benton hesitated. "As far as the a.s.sault goes, yes, sir," he said finally.

"What led to this a.s.sault?"

The Sergeant hesitated again. "A dirty slander, sir, connecting me with a married woman in the town," he said.

The Captain tapped with his pen and eyed Ellis keenly. "_Was_ it a slander?" he queried quizzically-and then repented, for there was a look on that reckless but gentlemanly face that dispelled all doubt-even before the man's answer came.

"Ah, well, then," said the O.C., "that accounts for this letter being anonymous. Now give me all names and particulars of this affair."

The Sergeant did so and the Captain's face darkened as he listened. "So that's who it is, eh?" he muttered thoughtfully. "Thought I knew that writing again.... I remember the man-well-but I don't think I've ever met the lady." And the fair mustache was twirled gallantly.

The recital finished by the Sergeant remarking: "I couldn't very well-under the circ.u.mstances, sir-lay a charge, or act otherwise than I did-without dragging the lady's name into this miserable affair."

"You've no business going about a.s.saulting people, anyway," retorted the old gentleman irascibly, with one of his characteristic changes of front. "And though it is not my intention to take any further notice of this unsigned epistle, as I am fully convinced you have told me the absolute truth-I do not think it would be good policy to send a man with your pugilistic tendencies back to this locality again. Let's see," he mused aloud, "you're a good range man. I think I'll transfer you to Cherry Creek, where you will be, I hope, beyond all temptation of getting involved again in any more of these-ah-social misunderstandings (Ellis groaned inwardly). Arrange for your kit to be sent in from Elbow Vale and proceed to Cherry Creek. I will give you a written order for Corporal Williamson to hand over the detachment to you and to come in to the Post. He seems to have been getting slack, for there are a lot of stock-rustling complaints coming in from his district lately. See if you cannot effect a change in present conditions there.

"Well!" he grunted impatiently, as the Sergeant halted irresolutely at the door, "what is it?"

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Benton, "but can I keep the same horse?"

"Oh, I suppose-I suppose," said the O.C. testily. "Damme, sir!... You've had that cursed horse transferred from every detachment you've been stationed at!" He fussed with some papers. "You'd better tell Williamson then, to ride in, and the next man who goes to Elbow Vale can take _his_ horse. That is all, Sergeant.... Report to the Sergeant-Major of your transfer."

In the pa.s.sage Ellis encountered the Sergeant-Major and Dudley.

"Banishment-physically, socially, and morally-right back to the 'bald-headed' again!" he plainted dismally to their inquiring grins.

"Father intimating in his own happy fashion that I wasn't quite civilized enough to hold down a Line detachment.... Cherry Creek!... O Lord!"

Inside the orderly-room the Captain, meanwhile, was slowly pacing backwards and forwards, hands clasped behind back. Through his teeth he softly hissed one of his eternal hymn tunes, which he suddenly broke off short to e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e with a low-toned, jerky abruptness to himself-"D-n the man!-d-n the man! Don't blame him! Couldn't tell him so, though!

Thought I knew that writing! D-d cad, that fellow Cooper!... Knew him years ago! D-d rascal! Glad Benton thrashed him! Done the same myself!-younger days!"

He resumed his interrupted hymn.

CHAPTER III

Therefore, Christian men be sure, Wealth or rank possessing, Ye who now will bless the poor, Shall yourselves find blessing.

-_Good King Wenceslas_. (_Old Carol_)

Three weeks elapsed and Benton again showed up in the Post with the first fruits of his new scene of operations-two prisoners committed for trial on a charge of cattle stealing.

His had been a weary watch for many nights, but he had caught his men at last, slaughtering stolen beef cattle in an old deserted corral at three o'clock in the morning. He looked worn out and had a black eye, received in the rough-and-tumble arrest that had followed.

The Captain was secretly pleased, but to Ellis he evinced little sign of his satisfaction. "Praise men up-spoil 'em! Let 'em think it's their ordinary course of duty," was his customary maxim.

"Good man, that Benton," he muttered to himself during one of his office pacings. "He'll straighten that Cherry Creek district out before long."

He gave the Sergeant three days' rest, though, and spoke about transferring him a man if required, which offer Ellis declined, however.

With his taciturn and secretive nature he preferred to follow alone, and in various disguises, the tortuous windings of stock cases, calmly relying on his own great strength, cunning, and ability with gun and fist, to effect any arrest.

The four-fifteen West-bound carried him as a pa.s.senger back to Sabbano, his nearest railway depot, the detachment being on the prairies forty miles away from the line. It was raining, and Ellis felt miserable as he gazed through the window and contemplated the wet, cheerless ride he would have in the morning.

He vaguely thought of "Johnny" waiting for him in Sergeant Churchill's stable at Sabbano. Was he being properly looked after? Churchill was a "booze artist," d-n him, and like as not he'd neglect him, like he did his own horse.

He was aroused from his gloomy abstraction by something tugging at his riding-crop and, turning his eyes he beheld a little curly-headed tot leaning over the back of the seat ahead of him. She was perhaps about three years old, and her blue eyes were sparkling with determination as she pulled at the leather thong with all her baby strength, in a desperate effort to possess herself of the desired treasure.

Benton's moody face immediately softened with a friendly grin. He loved children and they instinctively came to him without fear.

"h.e.l.lo, Sis," he said. "You want it?" and he surrendered the coveted plaything, which she immediately started to flourish with great glee.

The mother, a thin, shabbily dressed, careworn-looking young woman about thirty, looked on with a loving smile that glorified her poor, pinched face.

"Oh, Nellie, Nellie," she said reprovingly; "you mustn't-you'll hit somebody" and she turned to Benton, saying, "I hope my little girl isn't worrying you?"

"Not a bit-not a bit," he returned cheerily. "Kids are welcome to tease me any old time."