George at the Fort Part 10

"But it didn't take 'em long to captur' the place, an' it didn't take them long either to say what should be done with Max. He an' Mejia an'

Miramon were took out on a hill near the ruins of an old stone fort an'

shot. I didn't see it, 'cause I was under guard with Fletcher an' the rest; but I heared some of 'em who did see it say that just before the shooting was done Max he says to Miramon, 'The bravest man should have the post of honor;' so he puts Miramon in the middle, an' Max he stood on the left. It was a mean piece of business all the way through," said Springer, drawing his hand nervously across his forehead, "an' I am powerful glad that I am well out of it. Now, Mr. George, seein' as how you belong to the army, mebbe I had oughter tell you something. You remember them two Greasers who shot that cowboy down to Rio Grande City, an' was put in jail for it, don't you? Well, they belong to our gang, an' Fletcher an' the rest are getting ready to go down there an' take 'em out."

"Very well. Go right down to the commanding officer at Eagle Pa.s.s and tell him of it," said George promptly. "Then come up to Fort Lamoine, and we'll see if the colonel won't do something for Fletcher when he comes over here to capture me."

"An' there's another thing I had oughter tell you, Mr. George,"

continued Springer, sinking his voice almost to a whisper. "I come over here as a sort of spy, like. I am to find out all I can about your ways--where you go of nights, an' all that, you know--an' then I am to go down to Rio City, take a look about the jail, see how many guards there are, an' everything else that is worth knowin', an' after that I am to go back an' tell Fletcher."

"I am glad you didn't say so while my men were in here," observed George.

"I was just a trifle too sharp for that," said Springer, shaking his head and looking very wise. "I don't want to make them any madder at me than they be now."

"But you are not going back to Fletcher with any news, are you? You told me you had left him for good."

"Mr. George," said Springer earnestly, "I ain't agoin' to take no news acrost the river that will do anybody there any good. I ain't forgot that you helped me when I was a-starving for grub an' water, and I ain't likely to forget it, nuther. I did say I had quit them fellers for good, an' when I said it I meant it; but you can see by the way your own men used me, right here under your nose, that I couldn't stay here without n.o.body to back me up. I can't starve, so I'll have to go back till you come home again."

"If you will stay on this side of the river I will see that you don't starve," replied George. "After you have told the commanding officer at Eagle Pa.s.s of the attempt that is to be made to release those murderers, come up to Fort Lamoine and I will find some honest work for you to do.

The soldiers at the post are not acquainted with you, and consequently there will be no one to trouble you. I will say that you used to work for my father, and that will help you to a position."

While Springer was trying to make the boy understand how grateful he was to him for his kindness, there was a rap at the door, and Bob thrust his head into the room to announce in a surly tone that breakfast was ready.

"Where's Zeke?" asked George.

"Gone," was the laconic reply.

"All right! If he is foolish enough to go off without any breakfast, let him go. He'll meet me somewhere along the trail and say good-bye, I know. Bob," added George, pointing to the clothes-bag, which he had packed while he and his visitor were conversing, "put this into the pack-saddle, and have everything ready, so that I can start as soon as I have eaten breakfast.--Come on, Springer."

George led the way into an adjoining room, and found an excellent breakfast waiting for him. The cook, knowing that this was the last meal the young master of the ranche would eat at that table for long months to come, had exhausted all his knowledge of the cuisine in the effort to serve up a breakfast that would tempt George to eat, no matter whether he was hungry or not.

True to his promise, Bob kept out of the breakfast-room, and George and his guest were obliged to wait on themselves; but as they were used to that, they got on very well. While they were eating George once more repeated the instructions he had given Springer, and reiterated his promise to furnish him with steady employment and give him a chance to make an honest living.

Breakfast over, George accompanied his guest to the door, and saw him ride away toward Eagle Pa.s.s. As soon as he was out of sight the boy went into the house after his weapons and to take leave of the servants, who were good-natured enough now that Springer was gone. After shaking them all by the hand, and listening to their hearty wishes for his safe and speedy return, he mounted his horse, which stood at the porch saddled and bridled, took his pack-mule by the halter and rode away toward Mr.

Gilbert's ranche. The first person to greet him as he drew rein in front of the door was Zeke, who had so emphatically declared that he would not have another word to say to him.

"Where's that pizen varmint?" demanded the herdsman in no very amiable tones.

"Look here, Zeke," replied George, "if you should happen to meet that man while I am gone, I want you to treat him civilly; do you understand?

If you see him in trouble, I want you to help him out. He is sorry for what he has done, and intends to lead a better life; and if you don't a.s.sist him in every way you can, you are not the fellow I take you for."

"Humph!" exclaimed Zeke contemptuously. "Sorry, ain't he? Wants to lead a better life, don't he? Well, it's mighty little chance he'll have if he makes a business of b.u.mpin' up agin me the way he did this mornin', I bet you."

"He couldn't help it; Jake and Bob threw him against you. I know he is in earnest, for he has proved it. He came to the ranch to tell me that my old friend Fletcher is coming over to capture me next full moon, and he has now gone down to warn the officer in command at Eagle Pa.s.s that an attempt will soon be made to liberate the murderers who are in jail there.--Good-morning, Mr. Gilbert. I have stopped to say good-bye."

"Why don't you slap your foot down an' tell him he sha'n't go, Gilbert?"

demanded Zeke.

"I am as sorry to have him go as you are," replied Mr. Gilbert. "But it is to our interest to do all we can to break up this raiding business, and George can do more than any of us. In fact, he is the only one in the settlement who can do anything, for you know the colonel wouldn't accept the services of our company of Rangers when we offered them to him.--Come in, George, and say good-bye to Mrs. Gilbert and the girls."

This was soon done, for the boy did not like to linger over the parting; but still, it was much harder for him to take leave of these good friends than he thought it would be. The whole family accompanied him to the door, and when he came out Zeke turned his back to him.

"Say good-bye to me," said George, giving him a pat on the shoulder; "it's your last chance."

"I don't care if it is," shouted the old fellow; "I won't do it."

"Then I will say it to you: Good-bye, Zeke. It will be a long time before I see you again, if indeed I ever do, but I never shall forget you. You have been a good friend to me."

This was altogether too much for the honest herdsman. He faced quickly about, and, seizing George's hand with a grip that brought tears to his eyes, churned it up and down like a pump-handle. Then he dropped it and turned away, while George, without saying another word, vaulted into his saddle and rode off. Zeke watched him as long as he remained in sight, and then in broken accents addressed the silent group who stood in the doorway:

"Thar's that there boy."--here he waved his hand in the direction in which George had disappeared--"he was all I had, an' now he's gone off to fight them Greasers without askin' me would I let him go. I toted him in them there arms when he was a yellin' babby not knee-high to a duck; I put him on the fust hoss he ever rid; I slept under the same blanket an' herded cattle with him when he got bigger; I larnt him how to throw the la.s.so an' shoot the rifle; an' now he's went off an' left me alone!

Dog-gone them pizen Greasers!" roared Zeke, flourishing both his fists in the air.

He lingered a moment, looking rather sharply at Mr. Gilbert, as if he had half a mind to take him to task for giving his consent to George's "fool notion," and then, thinking better of it, he lumbered down the steps, mounted his horse and galloped off toward the place where he had left his herd in charge of an a.s.sistant.

George camped two nights on the prairie, and on the third afternoon, an hour or two before sunset, he arrived within sight of one of the stage-company's deserted stables. Or, rather, it _was_ deserted the last time he saw it, but now there was an armed soldier in front of the door, and he was presently joined by others, one of whom, by signs, invited him to approach. George complied, and presently found himself surrounded by a squad of troopers under the command of Corporal Bob Owens, who greeted him as we have described.

CHAPTER VII.

HOW BRYANT WAS CAPTURED.

Reveille was sounded the next morning by Corporal Owens, who, having no drum or bugle at his command, sprang up at daylight and aroused his slumbering companions by shouting out the order, "Catch up!" More from the force of habit than anything else, he called the roll while he was bundling up the blankets on which he and George had slept, and, making the sergeant's salute to an imaginary officer, he announced: "All present or accounted for." Then Carey was ordered to boil the coffee, and Bob and the three troopers who were off duty went out to groom the horses. Having brought no brushes or currycombs with them, they were obliged to content themselves with rubbing the animals down with handfuls of gra.s.s; but they "went through the motions," as Bob expressed it, and that was all the most exacting officer could have expected of them under the circ.u.mstances.

As soon as breakfast had been eaten the troopers and their prisoners set out on the return march, Bob and the new scout leading the way. Behind them came the deserters, guarded on each flank and in the rear by two cavalrymen. Their advance was necessarily slow, for the captives had travelled rapidly the day before in order to put a safe distance between themselves and the fort, and they were weary and footsore. Gus Robbins, especially, was nearly "done up." He was in a worse condition than Talbot was, for the latter seemed to have slept off the effects of his wound. George felt the greatest compa.s.sion for Gus, and offered to lend him his horse; but Bob, who had grown somewhat hardened to suffering during his experience in the army, positively forbade it.

"It wouldn't do, George," said he, looking admiringly at his friend's sleek, well-conditioned animal, which was constantly champing his bit and tossing his head as if he were growing impatient at the slow progress they were making. "Gus would make a break for liberty sure, and as that nag of yours is able to distance anything in my party, I'd have to--" Here Bob tapped his carbine significantly. "That's something I don't want to do. Gus isn't so nearly exhausted as he seems to be. He is more distressed in mind than he is in body, for he is thinking of the prison at Fort Leavenworth. After we have gone a few miles we will rest them by taking them up behind us, but it wouldn't be a very bright trick to give one of them a horse to himself."

About eleven o'clock a halt was ordered, and the deserters, who were riding behind the troopers, having dismounted, Corporal Owens took Carey off on one side and gave him some very emphatic instructions. Then he and George also dismounted, and, leaving their horses behind, made their way cautiously toward a ridge a short distance in advance of them. As they neared the top they threw themselves on their hands and knees and crept up until they could look over it. They were in plain view of the squatter's cabin at which the troopers had stopped to eat their dinner the day before. Bob took just one look at it, and then hastily backed down the ridge again.

"Did you see that fellow chopping wood in front of the shanty?" said he, addressing himself to George. "That's the man I am looking for."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure that I have a pair of good eyes?" asked Bob in reply. "Of course I am. I recognized him in spite of his citizen's clothes. That squatter has rigged him out in some of his own duds, but they'll not save him if I can manage in some way to get between him and the cabin."

"Perhaps, in order to make 'a.s.surance doubly sure,' you had better take my field-gla.s.s and have another look at him," said George. "A false move might prove fatal to you, for it would show the squatter that you suspect him of harboring one of your men, and that would put both him and the deserter on their guard. But if that is your man, I am sorry for it."

"Why are you?" demanded Bob, looking at his companion in great surprise.

"I mean that I am sorry you found him here," George hastened to explain, "for the chances are that you will not take him without a fight.

Peasley--that's the name of the owner of the cabin--is a notorious rough, and he would think no more of putting a bullet into you, if he thought he could escape the consequences, than he would of knocking over an antelope for breakfast."

"I thought he looked like that kind of a chap," said Bob. "Well, if he wants a fight he can be accommodated at very short notice. That's my man, and I am going to have him, squatter or no squatter."

As Bob gave utterance to this emphatic declaration he took the field-gla.s.s, which George handed over to him, crept up to the top of the ridge, and after taking a short survey of the cabin and its surroundings came back to his friend's side again.

"I knew I couldn't be mistaken," said he. "I had a fair view of his face, and as I have seen him every day for the last year, of course I couldn't fail to recognize him. The squatter is sitting on the porch smoking his pipe. Now, how shall I go to work to nab him? That's the question."