RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 CAPTAIN CHARLES KING 
 
- 
 

 
WORKS OF 
 CAPTAIN CHARLES KING, U.S.A. 
 
 
 
 UNDER FIRE. MARION S FAITH. 
 
 THB COLONEL S DAUGHTER. CAPTAIN BLAKE. 
 FOES IN AMBUSH. Paper, 50 cents. 
 THE GENERAL S DOUBLE. 
 
 Each volume. Illustrated. i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 
 
 WARING S PERIL. TRIALS OF A STAFF OFFICER. 
 
 Each volume, xzmo. Cloth, $1.00. 
 
 KITTY S CONQUEST. 
 
 STARLIGHT RANCH, AND OTHER STORIES. 
 LARAMIE; OR, THE QUHEN OF BEDLAM. 
 THE DESERTER, AND FROM THE RANKS. 
 Two SOLDIERS, AND DUNRAVEN RANCH. 
 A SOLDIER S SECRET, AND AN ARMY PORTIA. 
 CAPTAIN CLOSE, AND SERGEANT CRCESUS. 
 Each volume, izmo Cloth, $1.00; 
 paper, 50 cents. 
 
 TROOPER Ross, AND SIGNAL BUTTE. 
 
 Illustrated by Charles S. Stephens. Crown 
 8vo. Cloth, #1.50. 
 
 A TAME SURRENDER. RAY S RECRUIT. 
 
 Each volume. Illustrated. i6mo. Polished 
 
 buckram, 75 cents. 
 
 Edited by Captain King. 
 THE COLONEL S CHRISTMAS DINNER, AND OTHER 
 
 STORIES. 
 izmo. Cloth, $1.25 ; paper, 50 cents. 
 
 AN INITIAL EXPERIENCE, AND OTHER STORIES. 
 CAPTAIN DREAMS, AND OTHER STORIES. 
 Each volume. X2mo. Cloth, $i .00; 
 paper, 50 cents. 
 
< Oh, porter, would you kindly get me some water?" 
 
 Page 68. 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 BY 
 
 Captain Charles King, U.S.A. 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE COLONEL* S DAUGHTER," * THE 
 GENERAL S DOUBLE," ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 j \ * i L \Ji 
 
 1661 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 
 
 1898 
 
Copyright^ 1897, by^ J. B. Lippitfco^rx COMPANY. 
 Copyrighv> 1898, by jt*B*LiPFiNe(*TT COMPANY. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "Oh, porter, would you kindly get me some 
 
 water?" Frontispiece 
 
 For a moment no one spoke 107 
 
 Miss Leroy took to sitting by Hunter s bedside 191 
 Hunter knelt, and sent shot after shot at every 
 
 flitting form he saw 245 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 
 
 PRELIMINARY. 
 To Mr. Darcy Hunter Gray. 
 
 DEAR BOY, As foreshadowed in 
 my last, the concern has gone to 
 smash and your prospects with it. 
 When its affairs are settled, the firm of Hunter, 
 Bloom & Co. will have enough to pay its funeral 
 expenses, and that s about all. What I have 
 left is my wife s, who will, I trust, be able to 
 support me until certain life insurance policies 
 become due, out of which she can reimburse 
 herself, through my dying, for the cost of my 
 living. I m too old to try again, too sad to 
 care much, except for you. 
 
 "Your father was my dear friend, your 
 mother my beloved sister. When he died I 
 promised him I would be a father to you. 
 When she died her last words were a plea that 
 I should be good to her boy. I accepted both 
 trusts, Darcy, and betrayed both. 
 
 " They died poor : I was rich. They would 
 7 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 have had you learn io carve your own career, 
 and I loved you so that from your bright, brave 
 boyhood you were spoiled and indulged as 
 my own son. I gave you the best I had. I 
 balked you in only one desire, that of going to 
 West Point. Harvard, London, Paris, Berlin, 
 Vienna, Rome, and the Riviera were your ed 
 ucators. I planned to make you a railway 
 magnate when you hadn t learned the first 
 principles of the business. I ve accustomed 
 you to every luxury, to a life of careless ease, 
 to be a dawdler and a dilettante isn t that 
 what you call it ? I counted on leaving you 
 rich, and I leave you ruined. The self-re 
 proach the misery which overcomes me as I 
 write these words, no words can tell you. 
 
 "I know what you would write and say, 
 you were always generous ; but, Darcy, don t 
 write, don t come, just yet. Wait until you 
 get the next news. Wait until 
 
 " However, let us get down to business. Of 
 course you and Mrs. Hunter will not be apt to 
 see much of each other. She will mourn me 
 less than you ; and you more than I deserve. 
 The very little nest-egg your mother set aside 
 for you is intact. With accrued interest it 
 amounts to some eleven thousand seven hun 
 dred and twenty dollars. You have no debts 
 to speak of, have you ? I ve paid all you ever 
 told me about, twice, I think, and you were 
 always frank and truthful. That little sum, 
 8 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 with what you have to your credit in the Chem 
 ical and over there with you, represents the 
 sum total of your fortune. You never needed 
 it before, and so I never happened to mention 
 it to you. 
 
 " But despite your defects in bringing up, 
 for which I am responsible, you re not much 
 worse off than if you d gone into the army (I 
 hope you ve outlived that lunacy, as you did 
 the other one for you know), and can now 
 make a strike for yourself. You have the best 
 of health, the best of looks (for you strongly 
 resemble your uncle as he was at your age), the 
 best of education for any purpose that isn t 
 absolutely useful, and there is nothing that I 
 know of to prevent your marrying a fortune as 
 I did, and living happy ever after as I didn t. 
 
 " Don t underrate the extent of my collapse 
 Bloom got away with what Wall Street left 
 or of my love. Thank God I have no son of 
 my own. Thank God I ve only you to kneel to 
 and say, Forgive the blind, miscalculating, but 
 utterly humbled old fellow that 
 
 But here the eyes of the man seated there 
 by the dancing waters in the glad April sunshine 
 grew so blind with tears that he could read no 
 more. 
 
 Out on the blue, translucent waves the white 
 
 swans were paddling to and fro, dipping for 
 
 bread tossed by the lavish hands of laughing 
 
 children and their white-capped bonnes. The 
 
 9 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 flashing oars of many a skiff drove through the 
 sparkling waters, sending snowy little surges 
 breaking from the sharp, white prows. Fairy 
 yachts and swift paddle-wheel steamers clove 
 the mirror surface farther from the shore, and 
 tossed the creamy foam along their billowing 
 wake. Half-way over to the Savoy shore, 
 deep in the shadow of the mountains, two 
 white-winged barques seemed wooing the fal 
 tering breeze, for not a leaf was stirring in the 
 deep green foliage that shaded the path along 
 the sea wall. Towering high aloft, dazzling in 
 the sunshine, the snow-seamed, snow-capped 
 crags blinded the eye with their radiance as 
 they peered down into their own reflections 
 in the sombre depths at their shadowy base. 
 Away to the eastward, lovely little towns and 
 villages lay at the foot of the vine-clad slopes 
 of the northern shore, while here and there a 
 venerable ruin castle, convent, or fortress 
 stood sentinelled in bold relief on some pro 
 jecting height, or nestled under the shoulder 
 of some rocky cliff, close to the water s edge. 
 Near at hand, in the public Place, the carrousels , 
 thronged with children, old and young, were 
 spinning madly to the reedy melodies of some 
 donkey-driven organ. Waltz, galop, and mili 
 tary march rioted in loud rivalry, and a group 
 of Italian singers, smiling indomitably, carolled 
 " Funiculi Funicula" in nimble opposition to a 
 Tyrolean band quacking like noisy ducks in 
 10 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 the pavilion at the water s edge. The bell 
 buttoned page of the Beau Rivage was still 
 darting about, distributing letters just brought 
 in by the grinning facteur, ever a-scent for tips, 
 and, having still three or four undelivered mis 
 sives, halted in front of the American. 
 
 "Pardon, m sieu , but ees Mees Lang- 
 don 
 
 Up at the billiard-rooms, probably, * was 
 the brusque answer, as Mr. Gray turned has 
 tily away to hide the suspicious moisture in his 
 eyes. 
 
 " But no. I ave been there. I ave letters 
 for her, and for M sieu Sm eet." 
 
 The gloom in the tall American s face deep 
 ened perceptibly. 
 
 Over yonder, possibly, * he answered, with 
 a sidewise nod of the head towards a little 
 arbor "far from the madding crowd" at the 
 eastward edge of the pretty grounds ; then 
 turned away, impatient of further inquiry. 
 Some men were chatting eagerly at the fountain 
 as he passed. One of them, English unmis 
 takably, hailed him jovially. 
 
 " Time you were ready, Gray. You re going 
 to Chillon, of course." And, with a true 
 Briton s deep disdain of foreign names, he 
 spoke it as it was spelled. 
 
 "No," was the answer; "I m going to 
 cool off." 
 
 "Been getting a red-hot letter, as you Yan- 
 ii 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 kees say, I suppose," the Islander went on, 
 impervious to satire. 
 
 "That s about the size of it," answered Gray, 
 without halting. Two of the men looked after 
 him with no little concern in their eyes. Others 
 hailed him as he passed them by. Gray was evi 
 dently popular. A woman, in billowing laces and 
 a parasol chair, smiled largely upon him as he 
 raised his straw hat, and bade him pause, but pre 
 vailed not. Two younger women, in trim walk 
 ing attire, nodded coquettishly and said it was the 
 very day for the trip ; them, too, he answered 
 only vaguely, and, with a far-away look in his 
 deep blue eyes, he passed on to the telegraph 
 office, and the group of smoking men broke up. 
 
 " Something s amiss with Gray," said one of 
 the party, a New-Yorker. " I ll go see." 
 
 " I don t see what there was in the size of 
 the letter to upset him," said the Englishman, 
 unconscious of slang that was not Britannia 
 ware. "Gray s a good sort, though. Could 
 a fellow do anything, do you suppose ? 
 
 But the pursuer was slow. Seeing him com 
 ing, and divining his object, Mr. Gray slipped 
 out of the side door, dived through the shrub 
 bery that bordered a winding drive-way to the 
 west, and took himself off through the crowded 
 Place. He had need to be alone, to face his 
 changed fortunes fair and square. 
 
 Twenty-five years old, and up to the mid 
 week mail from America he had never known 
 
 12 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 a care since boyish days, unless it was some 
 momentary heart-pang when Amy Langdon 
 proved unkind. In a dawdling, amateurish way 
 he had read the daily papers and signed some 
 letters and reports laid before him by an atten 
 tive clerk in the office of the Eastern traffic 
 manager of a great road of which his uncle 
 was a heavy stockholder and prominent di 
 rector. The most serious thing he had ever 
 undertaken was his membership in a crack city 
 regiment, wherein he had served through the 
 ranks and really earned a commission. But 
 both these avocations he had quitted during the 
 previous winter, and all because Amy Langdon 
 was reported flirting dangerously at Nice and 
 Mentone, and if she were not actually engaged 
 to Darcy Gray he at least felt so far engaged to 
 her that flirtation was denied him. 
 
 As pretty a girl as ever rode in Central Park 
 was Amy, and as dashing a horsewoman, and 
 it was Gray s admirable riding and universally 
 acknowledged prospects that made him for the 
 time so acceptable a parti. He could manage 
 a horse far better than he could a woman, how 
 ever, and Miss Langdon kept him at her side 
 when in saddle and subject to call at all other 
 times. But she had, not unkindly, laughed off 
 his protestations and dissected his offers. "It s 
 absurd, Darcy. You haven t a cent in the world 
 that doesn t come from your uncle, and who 
 knows what his wife will do with his fortune, 
 13 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 or he himself, for that matter ? As for me, I m 
 a beggar with social aspirations. Come, be 
 sensible, and I ll like you better. Be a soldier, 
 Darcy, and face the facts. That s the one thing 
 you re cut out for." 
 
 "You re hard-hearted, Amy," he had an 
 swered. 
 
 "No; only hard-headed. I m soft-hearted 
 enough to like you too well to spoil both our 
 lives." 
 
 Gray believed himself much in love when 
 she went abroad in November, and took it 
 much to heart that she should be so constantly 
 attended by Fred. Smythe, who had no atom 
 of sense in his head, but no end of dollars in 
 his pocket. But when a lordling a younger 
 son of an older house than ever dwelt in 
 Gotham an Honorable, between whom and 
 the title and estates was a lord with only one 
 lung and that fast going had opposed his 
 sighs to those of Smythe, and there came 
 rumors that Locksley Hall was to be enacted 
 over again with an American Amy in the fore 
 ground, Darcy Gray believed it time to rush 
 for the Riviera, and a worried old uncle most 
 unwillingly let him go. Hunter loved that boy, 
 his sister s son, as the apple of his eye. There 
 wasn t anything he wouldn t have given him 
 but the means of earning his own living. All 
 that he proposed to settle magnificently. But 
 the bottom began to drop out of the market in 
 4 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 mid- January, and left him stranded high and 
 dry by the middle of May. Two million dol 
 lars, said Wall Street, had "gone where the 
 woodbine twineth." 
 
 Over beyond the hurly-burly of the public 
 Place, crowded with townfolk and children, the 
 road-way wound along the water s edge Gray 
 strode rapidly westward, his head bowed, his 
 hands thrust deep in his trousers-pockets. He 
 missed his usual companions, a heavy stick 
 and a nimble fox-terrier, but both had been 
 left with the portier as inappropriate to a 
 voyage to Chillon. They were to have started, 
 a merry party it promised to be, by the early 
 boat from Geneva, and he could see her now 
 cleaving the limpid waters around the headland 
 of Merges. It was time to warn his compan 
 ions that he could not go. One girl, at least, 
 might miss him, and she should be accorded 
 opportunity to name some other escort, Amy, 
 "Amy, shallow-hearted." She had disap 
 peared with that brainless ass half an hour ago, 
 possibly to console him for the fact that he was 
 not one of the dozen bidden by Madame la Com- 
 tesse to be of the party to voyage with her to 
 the famous castle, breakfast with her aboard 
 La France, and dine en fete at Montreux. 
 Vane, the Briton, was one, and small comfort 
 did he afford Smythe by bidding him jolly up, 
 and perhaps Madame would let him in for 
 post-prandial coffee at Montroo. 
 15 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Gray had never been able to stomach 
 Smythe ; he called him an insupportable cad ; 
 but when, at a turn in the path, he came sud 
 denly upon the combination of brainless ass 
 and insupportable cad squatted on a stone, 
 elbows on knees, his fuzzy jowls deep sunken 
 in his hands, his eyes on the far-away line of 
 the Savoy shore, the intruder relented. Here 
 was woe perhaps as deep as his own. 
 
 But in this case misery loved not company, 
 and Smythe was surly. No ; there wasn t any 
 thing Gray could do for him, thanks. He was 
 feeling seedy, that was all. It was plain to see 
 that the interview with Miss Langdon had left 
 him sore at heart. Gray stood another mo 
 ment, irresolute. There was absolutely no 
 reason why he should do the fellow a good 
 turn. Smythe hated him and plainly showed 
 it. But Gray had ignored his spleen, and ever 
 good-humoredly tolerated him. It is easy for 
 a man to forgive another s jealousy. But Gray 
 had suffered too much from Miss Langdon s 
 caprice not to know the symptoms when so 
 patent as they were in Smythe. Ill fortune 
 makes some natures magnanimous, rare na 
 tures, and Gray turned again. 
 
 "Look here, old man" ("old chap * had 
 not then come into vogue), " if I can t do any 
 thing for you, you can for me. I was to have 
 gone with that party, you know, to Chillon 
 this morning. Yonder comes the boat now. 
 16 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Go to Madame for me, like a good fellow, and 
 tell her I ve just received ill tidings from home. 
 I ve got to go to Geneva by the ten o clock 
 train. I was paired off with Miss Langdon. 
 Tell Madame I m awfully sorry, but I can t 
 go. She ll ask you in my place see if she 
 doesn t. So long." 
 
 And in another minute he was breasting the 
 heights to Lausanne, while Smythe was speeding 
 to Beau Rivage. 
 
 It was late that evening when he returned from 
 a solemn day with the bankers, the consul, 
 and certain tradesfolk whose prospects, tem 
 poral and eternal, he was given to understand 
 were shattered by his cancellation of certain 
 orders for furs and bijouterie. Heavy levy was 
 made on his check-book to solace their suffer 
 ing, but there is a certain recklessness of cost 
 when one s financial tether is nearly at an end. 
 Dinner was over at Beau Rivage. The band 
 was playing delightfully in the south portico. 
 Men in evening dress were sauntering and 
 smoking and sipping coffee about the corridor. 
 A few American and English girls with their 
 escorts were dancing in the salon. Gray was 
 still in "knickers," and had dined solus at the 
 Hotel Terminus. He paused at the portico 
 and gazed in at the scene of mirth, luxury, and 
 enjoyment wherein he had been so thoroughly 
 at home, and contrasted unflinchingly the 
 scene with that which he had planned for his 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 future. Now it was necessary for him to get 
 to his room to write, and he hoped to reach 
 it unobserved, but the Honorable Rokeby 
 had received his instructions and nabbed 
 him. 
 
 " Eoh, /say, Gray Miss Langdon, y* know, 
 wished to speak with you directly you came 
 in." 
 
 "Yes," was the languid answer; "and 
 where is she now ? 
 
 * In their salon, I fancy. She said she was 
 too tired to dress for dinner. Had a beastly 
 day, y know." 
 
 Gray nodded, slowly ascended the winding 
 stairway, and tapped at the door in the west 
 corridor. 
 
 " Trez," answered a boyish voice, and 
 Darcy was exuberantly welcomed by a ten- 
 year-old Langdon. The mater and sis are 
 having a row in the gallery," said he, radi 
 antly. "Old Smythe s been pestering her. 
 Go out there : they don t mind you, you know, 
 and I can t get away from here until they ve 
 finished." 
 
 But further confidences were ended by the 
 sudden entrance of Miss Langdon herself. She 
 had evidently been watching for Gray s return. 
 Outstretched to him in eager greeting were 
 Amy s long, slender white hands ; uplifted to 
 his in anxious inquiry were a pair of the softest, 
 loveliest eyes. The voice in which she spoke 
 iS 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 was soft, almost tremulous. "What is it, 
 Darcy?" 
 
 And the hand sidled into his, and Miss Lang- 
 don to a sofa whither she would have drawn 
 him ; but, despite the hand, which, despite 
 itself, he released, he remained on his feet 
 and concisely answered, 
 
 "What you expected." 
 
 " From Mr. Hunter? Gerald, go down and 
 play with Ralph until mother sends for you. * 
 
 "Ralph isn t there," was the petulant an 
 swer. 
 
 "Then go and play; go anyhow." Then 
 she turned for answer. From Mr. Hunter ? 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And it s true?" 
 
 " Yes, every cent." 
 
 Then the hands would be no longer denied. 
 Both went impulsively out, seized his with no 
 timid grasp, and drew him impetuously down 
 beside her. Then to his amaze he saw the 
 fair face quivering piteously, the lovely eyes 
 brimming with tears, the soft red lips twitch 
 ing with uncontrollable emotion. Oh, you 
 poor, dear boy oh, Darcy, Darcy, I never 
 never knew how much I cared for you till 
 now," she almost sobbed. "Gerald, if you 
 don t leave this room instantly I ll " 
 
 But the boy bolted, and then Darcy saw that 
 she was gazing up at him through a briny 
 depth of tears. Even in his surprise, even in 
 *9 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 the thrill of joy with which he heard this fond 
 confession, he recaptured himself, as it were, 
 in the nick of time. 
 
 " Under the circumstances, that s something 
 I didn t expect to hear," said Darcy. 
 
 "Under other circumstances you wouldn t 
 have heard it, said Amy. 
 
 "It s a bit rough on Smythe, isn t it ?" 
 
 " It in no wise concerns him. As for Rokeby, 
 he must take me just as I am." 
 
 "Oh," said Gray, looking fairly at her at 
 last, and beginning to tug at the hand she still 
 held in her two, " it s to be an international 
 affair, is it ? And I am addressing the future 
 Countess of Lancaster ?" 
 
 " Listen to reason, Darcy," said Miss Lang- 
 don, regaining dignity and self-possession at 
 sight of the hunger in his eyes. I have no 
 money. I have every ambition, every longing, 
 every desire that only position and money can 
 gratify. I like you better than any man I ever 
 knew, yet I wouldn t marry you, because you 
 hadn t enough to offer, and I never so fully felt 
 that I could and would marry you as now 
 when I can t. Even Mr. Smythe, with half a 
 million, could not buy. I am going to a higher 
 bidder, the highest I could find. So far as 
 I m concerned, that settles my fate, but it s 
 yours I care about, Darcy. You ve been a 
 dawdler and a do-nothing all your life. What 
 will you do now ? 
 
 20 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " Be true to my friends and their estimate 
 of me, probably. You wouldn t have me to 
 disappoint them, would you ? 
 
 What on earth do you mean ? Speak 
 sensibly, Darcy. I ve never been worth your 
 trust when you gave it. Now I m honest with 
 you. What will you do ? 
 
 " What they all prophesied, nothing." 
 
 " Darcy, you have brains and energy. You 
 have persistence enough to win anything 
 that s worth having," she concluded lamely. 
 
 There was a subdued sound of sniffling on 
 the balcony without. Over the moonlit Alpine 
 sea the mater was gazing towards the shores 
 of France and wondering if many mothers had 
 such trials as daughters at whose farthingales 
 dangled half the eligibles in society. Smythe s 
 mother, it seems, had taken up the pen to 
 second the plaintive baa of her golden calf, 
 and was dealing trenchant blows at her old 
 crony, the mother of the belle of the season. 
 
 Mother will be in here in a moment, Darcy. 
 You must be frank with me, and Rokeby may 
 be up any moment. You will stay here until 
 you ve had time to look about you ?" 
 
 " I ve had plenty of time to-day. Every 
 thing s settled. Tell Rokeby I m sorry I shan t 
 be able to take him bear- and elk-hunting, as 
 I promised." 
 
 "Do you mean you re going soon, to 
 morrow ? 
 
 21 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 "No," said Gray, rising, "I m going to 
 night. 
 
 One instant the beautiful face beside him 
 wore an expression of utter woe, of genuine 
 sympathy and sorrow, then decked itself with 
 winning and conventional smiles, for the salon 
 door, opening at the moment, revealed young 
 hopeful, the brother, tugging at the hand of 
 the other hopeful, monocled. Knickers and 
 evening dress confronted each other at the 
 threshold. Rejected Yank, accepted Briton, 
 met as do modern mortal rivals without sign of 
 rancor. 
 
 Er ah what s up, Gray ? 
 
 Nothing. I m down. 
 
 By the midnight express he left via Berne 
 for Basel. He could not face the throng of 
 inquisitive sympathizers on the morrow. He 
 meant to skip away unnoticed, but he had 
 been too genuinely popular, and there are 
 men, and many of them, Briton or Boston, 
 who will go out of their way to say good words 
 to a fellow in distress. Three of them trailed 
 Gray to the station and ran him to earth on 
 the train, and said impetuous things about 
 being his banker and made other offers im 
 possible to take seriously. The only thing he 
 could take was a drink with all three, until 
 they tumbled off at the conductor s shrill sum 
 mons, and through the night, under the glitter 
 of the lamps, something came gleaming and 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 spinning, and he caught Rokeby s handsome 
 flask and Rokeby s parting words : 
 
 * Take a drink for me once in a while, will 
 you, old boy ? Att revoir" 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 j|HE major was sprawled on the broad of 
 his back under the shade of a spread 
 ing cottonwood, a slouch hat, battered 
 and weather-stained, pulled well down over his 
 fine, dark-brown eyes, their heavy brows con 
 cealed by its jagged brim, their long, thick, curl 
 ing lashes downward sweeping towards the 
 bronzed, sun-tanned cheeks. The bristling 
 beard and curling black moustache concealed 
 the lines of the mouth and jaws, rendering 
 speculation as to the major s characteristics 
 mere guess-work, which wouldn t be the case, 
 said Captain Trotter, a physiognomist of the 
 first order in his own estimation, if the major s 
 face were, as usual with him in garrison, freshly 
 and cleanly shaved except as to the upper lip. 
 Open at the throat, the major s dark-blue 
 flannel shirt rolled easily back, revealing a 
 black waste of hairy stubble down to the pro 
 tuberant "Adam s apple," below which the 
 fair skin showed almost as white as a child s 
 and well-nigh as soft. A devotee to cold water 
 was the major, even in his cups, and that, too, 
 in days when the traditions of the great war 
 still held sway in the cavalry, and the cocktail 
 24 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 was the rule, not the exception, at morning 
 stable-call. Not that he preached the doctrine 
 of total abstinence or looked upon himself as 
 a model of virtue in any way. "Whiskey 
 never did me any good, was his modest ex 
 planation. " I never seemed to need it or to 
 care for it. I never saw any fun in getting full, 
 and the only time I ever did, it made me sick 
 for a week, a thing that never happened to 
 me before or since. If you like it, Ray, or if 
 it agrees with you, Blake, why, go ahead. So 
 long as you don t get full and neglect your busi 
 ness, it s none of mine." Time was in the 
 regimental past, as the major very well knew 
 and the minors sometimes said, when Ray 
 occasionally " got full and when Blake seemed 
 to think it agreed with him, until the day after 
 wards, at least. But Blake and Ray had found 
 reason to part company with their old familiar 
 friend, that intimacy having led, as often do 
 others, to later estrangement ; that familiarity 
 having bred contempt; that warmth, as Tom 
 Hood would have said, having produced a 
 coldness. Singed cats was what the un 
 reconciled of the subalterns called these erst 
 while jovial blades, but never where either 
 "cat" could hear, as each was known to be 
 unpleasantly ready to back his views. Both 
 officers had so far mended their ways in this 
 respect that neither would sip from the seduc 
 tive bowl, yet each was entirely willing that the 
 25 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 rest of the commissioned lists should be free 
 agents in the matter, with the possible excep 
 tions of Brady, who never drank that he didn t 
 make an ass of himself, and Rawson, who 
 never drank that he didn t make trouble for 
 somebody else. 
 
 And about these five men, the major, whose 
 name is spelled M-a-i-n-w-a-r-i-n-g and always 
 pronounced " Mannering," and Ray and 
 Blake, who have often appeared in these 
 chronicles of by-gone frontier days, and Brady 
 and Rawson, who have never yet so appeared 
 and who never will again, so far as this chron 
 icler is concerned, about these five men and 
 one other yet to appear, hangs most of this 
 story, these six men and just two women. 
 
 Place aux dames, though this bivouac on the 
 Boxelder was no place for them whatever, and 
 neither woman was there at the time, and only 
 one of them was known to any one of the 
 men referred to. One of the women was Mrs. 
 Mainwaring, and the other, a spinster, was 
 Kate Leroy. 
 
 It was a hot day, a dusty day, and the com 
 mand could prove it without the use of a word 
 as it unsaddled in the grove and men and 
 horses made for the nearest water. They had 
 marched since early morn and covered twenty 
 miles when the trumpets rang the signal for the 
 final halt. They had been winding for hours 
 in long column of twos down the sandy bottom 
 26 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 of a vanished creek, and the sight of this oasis 
 in the desert, the clump of cottonwoods with 
 its outlying stragglers farther down stream, was 
 indeed a grateful one. It told of the presence 
 of living water, and the regiment, said Trooper 
 Kelly, was as dhry as the chaplain s tem 
 perance sermon the night before Patrick s Day 
 in the morning." Mainwaring s four troops, 
 being first on the ground, pre-empted what 
 grass there was before breaking for the spring. 
 Trooper law reserved to the horses of the 
 owner all space within lariat length of the 
 firmly driven picket-pin, and woe to the man 
 that "jumped the claim." In like manner 
 had the major s " striker" pre-empted the big 
 gest cottonwood for his master s roof-tree, and 
 there, dusted, shaken, and smoothly spread, 
 were the major s blankets when, fresh from 
 his dip in the stream, that sturdy, keen-eyed, 
 compactly built soldier came back for his rest. 
 
 And there he lay, the picture of trooper con 
 tent, beguiling the moments until dinner should 
 be ready, and trying hard not to go to sleep 
 meantime, with a copy of " Les Miserables" 
 hauled from the depth of his capacious saddle 
 bags. Having had little schooling to speak 
 of, Mainwaring was an assiduous reader of 
 fiction, and prided himself on the fact. 
 
 Presently, without lifting his eye from the 
 page, or glancing towards the party interro 
 gated, who was sprawled in similar fashion 
 27 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 under an adjacent tree, the major popped the 
 following question : 
 
 " Blake, what s savvy ke pew ?" 
 
 And Blake, without lifting his eyes from the 
 written pages of the missive in his lean brown 
 hand, responded, after the manner of soldier 
 folk, Damfino. * 
 
 The major s brows contracted in a scowl. 
 Suspiciously he glanced at his long-legged 
 comrade. " Thought you spoke French," said 
 he. 
 
 To which Blake blandly responded, with 
 modest and not inexcusable hesitancy, 
 
 We-11 er not always. Isn t it possibly, 
 sauve qui peut T 
 
 "Well, sove ke/z^, then," responded Main- 
 waring, with disdainful emphasis on the con 
 venient monosyllable. What s that ? 
 
 "That," said Blake, " is what the girls say 
 when Brady tries to dance, -Jump for your 
 lives and Brady take the hindmost. It s polite 
 French for the jig is up/ * 
 
 Captain Ray, stretched at ease upon a costly 
 Navajo blanket of which he was inordinately 
 proud, reached out with his moccasined foot 
 and indented the canvas re-enforcement of his 
 comrade s field riding-breeches. "Quit it, 
 Blake," he muttered. 
 
 But the major needed no man to protect his 
 interests. He might not know French, but he 
 knew Blake, and liked him ordinarily. 
 28 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " I more than half thought you didn t know, 
 Legs," he said, with a yawn. " Legs" was a 
 regimental pet name for the longest and lank 
 iest of the commissioned list. "You West 
 Pointers have nearly all had two years school 
 ing in that tongue, and another year in Span 
 ish, and I m blessed if ever a one of you could 
 speak either. I d have a heap more respect 
 for you if you d come out like a man and say 
 you didn t know, like Ray, for instance. 
 There s no nonsense about him." 
 
 Here Blake kicked backward, in delighted 
 return of his comrade s broad hint. " Well, 
 major," he hastened to say, " my translation 
 was a trifle free, perhaps, but the phrase is a 
 clumsy one to turn into English. Ray will 
 agree with me as to the translation. The main 
 trouble with his French is the accent. It s a 
 combination of blue grass and Apache. 
 
 Well, he has the good sense to keep it to 
 himself, then," answered Mainwaring, still a 
 trifle sulky. " I d pattern after him, if I were 
 you." 
 
 41 Faith and so I would, major mine, did not 
 my innocent associates so often take me for a 
 lexicon. But, now, you ought to speak French 
 like a native. Mrs. Mainwaring does. You 
 couldn t have a better teacher, and Stannard 
 says all a man needs to learn anything in this 
 world is brains and time. You ve got lots of 
 time." 
 
 29 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 "What s that about Stannard?" interrupted 
 the major, sharply, and Blake s diversion had 
 told, as he meant that it should. If there was 
 one man in the army of whom Mainwaring was 
 jealous, it was Stannard. He, like Stannard, 
 had been a capital troop commander for years. 
 He had attained, at last, the rank of major, 
 vice Barry promoted, only a year or so after 
 Stannard ; had served just as well as had 
 Stannard ; had as fine a war record, and an 
 honored and honorable name ; had a charming 
 wife, health, and competence, yet mourned in 
 secret even at times made audible moan 
 over the fact that among the officers and men 
 of the regiment what Stannard said, thought, 
 did, was never to be questioned. Stannard was 
 authority on all points of soldiering ; Stannard 
 was the expert engineer, builder, draughtsman, 
 topographer, and all-round military sharp ; * 
 while he, Mainwaring, whose troop had been a 
 model, whose battalion was now really in finer 
 shape than Stannard s, and who had abundant 
 means and spent where Stannard saved, was 
 looked upon in the cavalry as a good soldier, a 
 fine officer, despite his surly mannerisms, and 
 yet because he hadn t enjoyed Stannard s ad 
 vantages and a college, or even high school, 
 training, he must submit to perennial playing 
 of second fiddle. It set him against Stannard, 
 and it led eventually to trouble. 
 
 "If you d only be wise, Leonard," his 
 30 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 brighter better half had said to him, "you 
 wouldn t ask questions of Blake. Look it up 
 in the encyclopaedia, or even ask me." 
 
 "Why, hang it, Laura!" interrupted the 
 major, " half my years are spent in saddle out 
 in the field. You and the encyclopaedia are 
 a month s march away. I can t help wanting 
 to know what things mean." 
 
 "Then ask Captain Truscott or Captain 
 Freeman." She knew too much to wound him 
 by suggesting Stannard. " Blake s propensity 
 to burlesque everything is irresistible unless 
 you happen to be alone with him. And Main- 
 waring would promise, and despite his promise 
 would fall, for, as he frankly admitted, he 
 couldn t help wanting to know, you know, and, 
 as it never occurred to him that he could mis 
 pronounce any word, foreign or domestic, poor 
 Mainwaring was eternally putting his foot in it. 
 He and Tommy Hollis were Blake s entire de 
 light, and neither man could resent his witti 
 cisms, even when they verged on the personal, 
 for Blake, like Ray, was a regimental idol be 
 cause of deeds that won a tribute outvying 
 the Victoria Cross or Congressional Medal of 
 Honor. Mainwaring swore by both as sol 
 diers, and Hollis fairly worshipped Blake. But 
 Tommy was away on other duty just now, and 
 the shafts of the long-legged captain s ridicule 
 fell most improperly on his sluggish- witted chief. 
 
 Blake did not thoroughly like him. He 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 thought Mainwaring selfish, opinionated, and 
 conceited. He admitted him to be a first-rate 
 soldier, a fine drill-master and tactician, a truth 
 ful, honest, and pure-minded man, a devoted 
 husband and father, in fact, one of the rep 
 resentative men of the cavalry. It wasn t that 
 he was narrow (his tolerance on the whiskey 
 question was an evidence that he was not), yet 
 he was "butt-headed," said Blake. "He s 
 perpetually referring to Ray and to me as the 
 exponents of the liquor habit, when both of us 
 quit long ago. We all like Stannard, and he 
 doesn t ; at least he is always ready to dispar 
 age anything Stannard says or does, and if he 
 were Stannard s senior instead of junior he d 
 overrule any decision or order of Stannard s 
 just because it was Stannard s. So when he 
 comes out with his bulls I can t help goading 
 him a bit. Somebody s got to keep him in 
 check, or we ll be getting the laugh from those 
 fellows of the Eleventh and Twelfth." 
 
 "They wouldn t see the blunders, Blake, 
 only you show em up," said Ray, in re 
 monstrance, and with not a little reason, for 
 Blake was incorrigible. " Some day you ll cut 
 Mainwaring to the quick, and he comes of a 
 stock that hits hard and doesn t forgive easy or 
 forget at all. Better hold off, Legs." 
 
 And "hold off" Legs had to for several 
 days of a dreary homeward march, dreary 
 because the colonel meant to rest the horses 
 32 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 thoroughly after a fierce and furious chase and 
 campaign, and so made short marches where 
 the officers and men would gladly have made 
 two a day. The road was dusty, the October 
 sunshine was hot and dry, the nights were snap 
 ping cold, but here at last they were only one 
 day out from their new station, Fort Ransom, 
 and Blake had broken bonds again. Raising 
 himself on elbow and peering across the blue- 
 shirted shoulder of his friend, Ray could see 
 that Mainwaring was still glowering at him, 
 and evidently pondering over that reference to 
 his having time enough to learn anything. As 
 yet its full significance was not apparent, but it 
 was the policy of wisdom to distract his atten 
 tion and set his wits to work on something else. 
 Like the horse, which noble animal Mainwaring 
 almost worshipped, he could consider only one 
 point at a time. So up rose Ray and strolled 
 over to him. " If you ve no objections, major, 
 I d like to ask the colonel to let my quarter 
 master sergeant ride into Ransom to-night. 
 He tells me his wife is quite ill. The ambu 
 lance is going, and will give him a lift. We ll 
 lead his horse with the troop to-morrow." 
 
 Why not ride him in to-night ? asked 
 Mainwaring, who had served but little under 
 Atherton since the war, and knew not how 
 strict were his rules regarding horses. 
 
 "Because the colonel wishes every horse to 
 share and share alike. The sergeant s horse 
 3 33 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 would have an extra twenty miles if ridden in 
 to-night. Yonder comes Stannard s battalion 
 now," he said, pointing to the dust-cloud sailing 
 slowly towards them from the north. "He ll 
 bivouac above us, I reckon." 
 
 "Yes, and spoil our water, like as not," 
 growled Mainwaring. "But we ve got the 
 grass and shade. 
 
 " Devil doubt you," muttered Blake, " and 
 you ve got the best of both." Then, aloud, 
 " A$k the old man, with my compliments, if I 
 may do him the honor of dining with him to 
 morrow, Billy. Mrs. Atherton has everything 
 ready for his coming, I ll be bound, while your 
 better half and mine and the major s here 
 can t come till we get there and choose quar 
 ters." 
 
 Mrs. Mainwaring will be there quicker than 
 I will," said the major, promptly. 
 
 "That s all easily explained. Mrs. Main- 
 waring knows the major s quarters can go to 
 nobody but the major, and she can move in at 
 once. We poor devils of troop-leaders must 
 wait till our seniors have chosen. What s more, 
 Mrs. Mainwaring has no nurse and babies to 
 look after." 
 
 "No, but she s bringing a companion with 
 her, in the shape of her niece that she s often 
 talked to me about. I think I told you about 
 her, Miss Leroy. She s been abroad for a 
 year, and wants to come and see something of 
 34 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 her own country. They ought to reach Butte 
 to-night, or early in the morning. 
 
 Will she ? exclaimed Blake. Then like 
 as not she ll have an escort : Rawson s coming 
 out with a batch of recruits. * 
 
 " Bah !" growled Mainwaring, who had little 
 use for Rawson or any other officer who was 
 away on leave when his regiment was in the 
 field. "Mrs. Mainwaring s never met him, 
 and, if she had, would feel mighty small se 
 curity in his escort, a fellow that ll be. held 
 up with a whole car-load of passengers by only 
 two robbers." 
 
 Mainwaring alluded to a matter that was a 
 sore spot in the th and that never yet had 
 been fully explained. But Mr. Rawson, three 
 months earlier that summer, had unquestion 
 ably been relieved of his few valuables at the 
 point of the.- pistol on the K. P. road. The 
 regiment meant to worry the life out of him 
 when he rejoined, but didn t like it that Main- 
 waring, a new-comer, should be the first to 
 crack the whip. Blake almost wanted to blaze 
 up, but thought it best perhaps to wait for Ray, 
 and so subsided. 
 
 Ray, however, had sauntered out to the edge 
 of the scanty patch of timber, and, shading his 
 eyes with his brown hand, was scanning with 
 professional interest the long column of dusty 
 troopers, two abreast, that came filing into 
 view around a little point five hundred yards 
 35 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 away. Well out in their front, short, square, 
 and stocky, rode their major, his adjutant, 
 trumpeter, and orderly jogging along behind. 
 To him rode the colonel s messenger, the regi 
 mental adjutant, and pointed out a line some dis 
 tance up-stream. Thither the head of column 
 veered, moving at a steady walk. The guidon- 
 bearer, at a signal from the battalion adjutant, 
 spurred out to the front, and, with the old 
 silken swallow-tail streaming in the wind, loped 
 across the level to a point ten yards or so from 
 the bank, was halted there by the young officer 
 in person, and then, lance at rest, he and his 
 horse stood motionless. Never quickening the 
 pace, the captain at the head of Stannard s 
 foremost troop directed his march on this living 
 guide-post. The guidon of the second troop, 
 followed speedily by those of the third and 
 fourth in like manner, darted out across the 
 prairie, each in succession being halted and 
 established at half-distance in rear of his pre 
 decessor on the line of guides. Each troop 
 directed itself upon its own color ; each in 
 succession formed line to the left as its leading 
 two came opposite the guidon ; each was aligned 
 to the right; then, without loss of time, the 
 trumpets sounded, " Prepare to dismount ;" the 
 brown carbines were jerked from their sockets 
 and tossed over the right shoulder as the odd- 
 numbered troopers rode clear of the rank. 
 " Dismount," clamored the trumpet, and down 
 
 36 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 out of sight sank some fifty-odd blue flannel 
 shirts and rusty old hats in each line. " Form 
 rank." And out from among the chargers 
 popped the vanished riders, each laying hold 
 of the reins close to the bit as the line reformed 
 and the captain said his brief speech : "Water 
 as soon as you like, men, and graze well out 
 to the north until nightfall. No side lines ne 
 cessary to-day. Dismiss the troop, sergeant." 
 And the next thing a dozen men were scamp 
 ering like mad, lariats and picket-pins swing 
 ing, heading for the most promising patches of 
 grass. Each picket-pin was stamped home, 
 the lariats uncurled to their full length, and 
 then back ran the troopers to unsaddle and lead 
 to water. Ten minutes more, and the chargers 
 of Stannard s battalion, perhaps two hundred 
 and fifty in all, were being slowly driven in four 
 distinct herds, well out upon the northward 
 slopes, where, after a preliminary roll, each 
 horse set contentedly to grazing. Those pre 
 empted patches close at hand were reserved for 
 their further use at night. 
 
 And then the little cook-fires began to blaze 
 along the bank, and the pack-trains shambled 
 in, and were unloaded in the twinkling of an 
 eye. The mules went blinking off to water, 
 and the major, never quitting his saddle until 
 his last trooper dismounted, slowly lowered 
 himself to earth and went off in search of the 
 colonel. 
 
 37 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " If you ve no objections, sir, I d like to send 
 a sergeant in ahead to-night." 
 
 "Why, Stannard," said the colonel, look 
 ing up from under his hat-brim in some sur 
 prise, "that s just what Ray s been asking. 
 Anything amiss ? 
 
 "Well, his time expires to-morrow, sir. It s 
 old Bannon, of B Troop, and he d like to 
 catch the East-bound train, so s to have all the 
 time possible to go and visit his children in 
 Illinois. He ll re-enlist at once." 
 
 " And your man, Ray ? 
 
 "Is Sergeant Merriweather, sir. He says 
 his wife s at Ransom quite sick, and he s 
 anxious and troubled about her." 
 
 " Isn t he the man that we had to reprimand 
 for letting certain horses stray up on the Belle 
 Fourche ?" 
 
 "The very man, sir. He is careless at 
 times, and not altogether reliable, but he s 
 one of the smartest, nattiest men I ve got, 
 and 
 
 "Didn t he marry that pretty maid-servant 
 of the Freemans after we got back from the 
 Ute campaign ? 
 
 " Yes, sir, and Freeman hasn t forgiven me 
 yet," answered Captain Ray, his white teeth 
 gleaming. "I m very sure I should be glad 
 to have him take her back. She s turned the 
 heads of some of my best men, and is running 
 Merriweather heels over head in debt." 
 
 38 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 The colonel pondered a moment. "I 
 greatly dislike to refuse you anything," he 
 said ; but every time we come in from scout 
 or campaign, since I joined the regiment, no 
 sooner are we within a day s march or so of the 
 home station or any station, for that matter 
 than several men ask to ride in ahead. At 
 first even the officers did, and there were as 
 many as a dozen men. Now we ve reduced it 
 to two. When did Merriweather hear from his 
 wife?" 
 
 " The mail rider, sir, going up to the Sioux 
 Agency, met us this morning early and gave 
 him a letter. He brought it to me to read. It 
 was written by the post-trader s wife. She says 
 Mrs. Merriweather is really seriously ill." 
 
 Very good. Then he can go by the am 
 bulance. So can your man, major. Tell 
 them both to report here at three o clock. 
 Isn t Merriweather s time nearly out, Ray?" 
 
 " Only two months to serve, sir, and he says 
 he s going into business with a brother in 
 Chicago. I lose three non-commissioned offi 
 cers this fall in that way, and one of them I 
 couldn t take on again : he s all broken down 
 with wounds and rheumatism. You ll have to 
 favor me a bit in the matter of recruits, col 
 onel. I need six, or shall before we re a month 
 older." 
 
 "You shall have the first good man that en 
 lists at Ransom, Ray. I m told we may pick 
 39 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 up some first-rate material there, the mines 
 have broken so many." 
 
 " All right, colonel ; and I ll remind you if 
 I see any likely civilian hanging around head 
 quarters. Good-day, sir, and thank you very 
 much." So saying, Captain Ray wheeled 
 about and trudged away down-stream to make 
 his report to his battalion commander. 
 
 1 Did he say Merriweather could go ? asked 
 the major, glancing up at Ray s sunshiny face. 
 " I wouldn t, if I were in his place." 
 
 " He wasn t over-willing at first," was the an 
 swer. However, my fellows will all be wishing 
 themselves back in the field before they ve been 
 home a fortnight, small blame to them." 
 
 " What s the reason you re so down on gar 
 rison life, Ray ? 
 
 "I m not down on it exactly, major, but if 
 it weren t for the wife and boys I d be glad if 
 we were forever in the field," answered Ray. 
 "Men get killed in this Indian business, but 
 they keep out of trouble. There s Merri 
 weather, now. He was a tip-top sergeant in the 
 Sioux campaign. He was one of the best all- 
 round troopers and non-commissioned officers 
 in the regiment all through the campaigns that 
 followed in the next three years, and he s been 
 running down steadily ever since he fell in love 
 with that flibbertigibbet of Freeman s. Gar 
 rison life and girls spoil many a good cavalry 
 man, he concluded, oracularly. 
 40 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 "Don t dare me to tell that to Mrs. Ray as 
 your sentiments," grinned the major. 
 
 Oh, everything depends on the girl, of 
 course," said Ray, growing instantly grave. 
 " Blakey and I well, /, at least, owe every 
 thing to my wife," he finished, almost rever 
 ently. Then presently he spoke again. But 
 what chance has the average trooper ? What 
 manner of woman has he to mate with, if he 
 mate at all ? Next batch of recruits I get 
 should be anchorites, so far as women are con 
 cerned. * 
 
 "Sailors are just as bad as soldiers," said 
 Mainwaring, sagely. Whereat Blake ducked 
 his head under his blanket in convulsions of 
 delight. 
 
 "I know, sir," said Ray, glancing venge- 
 fully at the contortions of the worn gray slum 
 ber-robe, and biting his own lip hard to repress 
 the bubbling fun. "What I mean is that I d 
 like to get the troop full of fellows that couldn t 
 be twisted around a woman s finger." 
 
 "You never will, Ray," said Mainwaring, 
 thereby proving that he knew human nature, if 
 not books. * You can take your pick of this 
 gang that Rawson s bringing out with him, or 
 of any of the men that offer themselves at Ran 
 som, and I m willing to bet that the next man 
 you enlist will be woman-driven from the word 
 go" 
 
 41 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 j|HE night express was fifty minutes late al 
 ready, and engine 783, waiting at the 
 Junction with her snow-plough set, was 
 hissing and rumbling impatiently. The big 
 brown building, embracing hotel and waiting- 
 rooms, ticket- and station-master s office, loomed 
 up against the star-dotted sky. The switch- 
 lights gleamed in crimson, green, and dazzling 
 white here, there, and everywhere along the 
 glinting rails. Bleary lamps were burning in 
 frost-covered windows, and tiny sparks fluttered 
 from the pipe of the solitary biped on the plat 
 form, a burly man in the toil-stained garb of a 
 locomotive engineer, a sturdy fellow who limped 
 as he stamped up and down the creaking planks 
 of the platform, his hands in his pockets, his 
 eyes everywhere. To him came forth his fire 
 man, splitting his mouth with a wedge of bilious- 
 looking pound-cake. He strove to speak, but, 
 finding articulation impossible, jerked back 
 ward his head and pantomimed the process 
 of serving himself with a cup of comforting 
 drink, coffee, presumably, for he was fresh 
 from the lunch-counter. 
 
 Come, swallow the rest of that grub, now, 
 and be lively with your oil-can. We can t wait 
 42 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 two minutes after she once gets in. No," he 
 continued, as the younger repeated his persua 
 sive pantomime, " I had my tea at home, and 
 that s enough. You ll die of over-eating, first 
 thing you know. Do your best now. We ve 
 got an extra Pullman and a car-load of green 
 horns to haul up to Butte this night of all others, 
 and I m betting it s snowing in the mountains 
 now." 
 
 So saying, the engineer turned and gazed anx 
 iously westward, where even the stars seemed 
 blotted from sight, then quickly whirled about 
 and bent his ear. 
 
 "Coming at last," he muttered. "That s 
 old Coyote s yelp for the cross-roads. Damned 
 little wind for whistling has she left, either. 
 No wonder No. 3*5 late, with nothing better 
 than that limping carcass to drag it. She 
 ought to be in the bone-yard, ought to a* 
 been there a year ago. But here s the beauty, 1 
 said he to himself, as he turned and laid a 
 loving hand on the massive driving-rod of 
 the huge machine. " Lively, Scut," he added : 
 " 3*s coming." 
 
 Scut was descending from the cab as a cat 
 comes down a tree, backward. " What n ell 
 they takin recruits to Ransom for now ? he 
 asked. " The war s over." 
 
 "It s to fill the gaps made when the war 
 wasn t over, young man, and mighty hard 
 they ll find it to fill some of em, too. Jim 
 43 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Strang, that was killed at Cave Springs, was 
 corporal with me in Bates s troop eight years 
 ago, and there wasn t a better sergeant in all 
 the cavalry. Lo loves a shining mark, or I d 
 never got hit twice in one day." 
 
 "Would you go back to soldierin* if you 
 could, Mr. Long?" asked the fireman, tilt 
 ing up his long-necked can as he thrust the 
 nozzle deep in between the spokes of a massive 
 driver. 
 
 " I ? Give me back the legs I had before the 
 Sioux made a sieve of my skin, and it isn t the 
 rail I d be riding, but the best sorrel in Billy 
 Ray s troop, and with the best office in it, and 
 that s first sergeant." 
 
 "It s takin* chances to be in the cavalry 
 these days, said he of the oil-can, listening to 
 the low, far-away rumble of the coming train. 
 " Do you see her head -light yet ?" 
 
 "She isn t through the cut," was Long s 
 answer. "As to taking chances, they ve done 
 nothing but take chances in that regiment ever 
 since the war ; yet there isn t a day of our lives 
 we don t take chances, and bigger chances, 
 right here on this mountain division." 
 
 A tall young fellow in travelling-cap and 
 ulster had come out from the lunch-room and 
 was strolling over towards the hissing engine. 
 He stopped and listened as Long spoke, then 
 seemed to be pondering over the words and 
 looking to the engine-man for explanation. 
 44 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " How do you mean ?" asked Scut, pausing 
 in his work and looking up. "We haven t 
 had a hold-up on the road for over a year." 
 
 Neither have we had a head-on collision, 
 nor spreading rails, nor a plunge from a trestle, 
 but they are only three of the things likely to 
 occur any minute, especially when trains are 
 running behind as we are to-night, all on ac 
 count of that one-eyed Coyote that s peeping 
 at you down yonder." 
 
 It was the head-light of No. 3, just dawning 
 on the view at Mile End Crossing, to which the 
 engineer referred. 
 
 " Watch how slowly she comes," he added. 
 "The old maid is about worn out. Here s the 
 girl that can shake that train up grade as though 
 twas made of bandboxes. I ll bet you we 
 make Butte by seven o clock." 
 
 " I ll bet you don t, if you ll let me in," was 
 the cool interjection of the young man ulster- 
 clad ; "for Butte s my objective point." 
 
 What do you know about it, or about rail 
 roading?" asked Long, suspiciously. 
 
 "As much as you did when you quit sol 
 diering, and no more, wherein we have much 
 in common, Mr. Long; but here s where the 
 difference comes in. You quit soldiering to 
 take to the railroad ; I quit the road to take to 
 soldiering." 
 
 "Oh, I see. Then you re an officer?" 
 queried Long, his accustomed lips framing the 
 45 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 little word sir and almost resenting his en 
 forced omission of the once familiar monosyl 
 lable. Long said sir" to no one under the 
 division superintendent now. 
 
 I ? Devil a bit, was the laughing answer. 
 "I m not even a lance, not even a recruit. 
 Man, I haven t signed my papers yet." 
 
 "Then take a fool s advice and don t sign 
 them," interposed Long. " Pbw vegot no call 
 to go soldiering. Such as you come in only 
 when it s whiskey or women or cards." 
 
 Say it s all three, if you like, was the 
 half-laughing answer. I heard of you as one 
 of the old cavalrymen at the barracks yonder," 
 and the stranger nodded carelessly over his 
 shoulder in the direction of the post, estab 
 lished long years before when the road was 
 being built. "They sent me there by mis 
 take. It s the cavalry I want, not infantry. 
 
 The engineer looked the speaker over in 
 surprise. Away down the track the head-light 
 of the incoming train was growing bigger every 
 moment, and the rumble of the bulky approach 
 could be plainly heard. 
 
 "You don t look like a man who had to 
 take to soldiering," he said. 
 
 "Oh, I m not," was the prompt, good- 
 natured reply. "I doit simply because I ve 
 a hankering that way, and no other," he 
 added, under his breath. "Perhaps you can 
 tell me something of the regiment at Ransom ? 
 46 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " Enough about it to talk from here to Frisco, 
 but there s no time now. We ve got to pull out 
 with that train the moment their engine gets 
 out of our way. But you re the first man I 
 ever met out here who would openly say he 
 was going to enlist. They all come up shame 
 faced like, as though it was the last thing they 
 wanted people to know." 
 
 " Oh, I never found it paid to sail under 
 false colors, was the answer, in a tone of gay 
 good humor, not unmixed with a dash of reck 
 less disdain. "I ve nothing to lose. But I 
 would like to ask you something about the 
 troop commanders there at Ransom. Can t 
 you give me a lift in the cab ? I ve a pocket 
 ful of better weeds than you get out this way, 
 if that s any inducement." And, so saying, 
 he reached down into the deep pocket of his 
 ulster and brought out a handful of cigars. 
 
 Mr. Long s manner changed in an instant. 
 " Gainst orders," said he, briefly, gazing sus 
 piciously into the stranger s face as he spoke. 
 "Better get your ticket, if you re going to 
 Butte." And, swinging himself up to his 
 perch, he grasped the reversing lever with one 
 hand and the throttle with the other. Scut 
 laid hold of the cord and set the big bell to 
 swinging warning of their coming. The huge 
 machine began slowly to move rearward as the 
 much maligned and belated Coyote came hiss 
 ing by on the fireman s side, and that be- 
 47 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 grimed young man availed himself of the 
 chance to chaff his fellow-workers in the 
 flitting cab. He took no heed, therefore, of 
 the stranger s parting hail, but Long was eying 
 him closely and listening for any word. 
 
 " I ve got tickets all right," said the lonely 
 man on the platform, "but I d rather sit up in 
 a cab than sleep in a Pullman. It s all right, 
 though. Have a smoke anyhow." And with 
 lavish hand he tossed half a dozen cigars 
 into the cab as he walked beside the moving 
 engine. Then, with a cordial wave of his hand, 
 he turned aside to the lunch-room, into the door 
 way of which a half-score of hungry passengers 
 from the arriving train were eagerly pushing. 
 
 "Only three minutes, gents," sung out the 
 conductor. "We ve got to make up time be 
 fore we reach the Rockies can t do it there." 
 And he darted into the train-despatcher s office 
 to register and receive his orders. 
 
 Meantime Scut, still clinging to the bell- 
 cord with one hand, was scooping up cigars 
 with the right. That fellow s a prince, * 
 said he. "Just look at that for a seegar." 
 And he held it admiringly up to Long to see, 
 and was amazed at the gloom in his com 
 panion s face. "Why, what s up?" he asked. 
 
 "What s up?" repeated the engineer, as he 
 
 slowed down on nearing the forward end of the 
 
 mail-car. "A hold-up, unless I m mistaken, 
 
 and the fewer of them cigars you stick in your 
 
 48 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 mouth the more brains you ll have left in the 
 morning." With a sharp click the heavy 
 coupling-pin was driven home, and Long sent 
 the reversing lever over to the front, then poked 
 his head out of the side of the cab and shouted 
 to a train-hand he saw hurrying by, * Where 
 you got them recruits, Billy ? 
 
 " First coach behind the baggage," was the 
 answer, as the man glanced over his shoul 
 der. "There s some of em now." And, as 
 he spoke, bounding, laughing, and dodging 
 through the knot of hungry passengers, half a 
 dozen young fellows in fatigue uniform or 
 bright blue overcoats went hastening by to the 
 lunch-room, followed by shouts from somewhere 
 back along the train. Presently a middle-aged 
 man in the garb of a sergeant of cavalry came 
 stalking after them, a man who seemed just 
 aroused from sound sleep, and not too well 
 pleased as a consequence. 
 
 "Get back to that car, you men," he or 
 dered, authoritatively. " Didn t I tell you not 
 a soul of you could leave it without my per 
 mission ?" 
 
 But the recruits were lined up at the lunch- 
 counter by this time, and gleefully shouting for 
 coffee and reaching for doughnuts, pie, any 
 thing edible within reach. The waiter looked 
 perturbed and hesitated. The proprietor came 
 hurrying over from his desk. The little throng 
 of passengers seemed sympathetic and inter- 
 4 49 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 ested. "Who s to pay for this?" demanded 
 the owner, as the sergeant came fuming and 
 almost fighting his way into the crowded room. 
 1 Have your men got any money ? 
 
 " Course we have," sung out a jovial Pat, 
 " and the credit of a benevolent and paternal 
 government to back it, and there s my last cint 
 to prove what I say," he added, whacking 
 down a silver dollar on the counter. 
 
 "That ain t enough by the mate to it," said 
 the proprietor, gruffly. Come, clear out, 
 you boys. Train s going ; no time for coffee. 
 This will pay for the things you re eating," said 
 he ; and he made a grab for the dollar, but 
 Pat was too quick for him. 
 
 Board, shouted a hoarse voice on the 
 platform without. 
 
 " Back to your car, you men," ordered the 
 sergeant. 
 
 " Give me that dollar," demanded the boss. 
 
 "Give us the coffee," replied the recruits, 
 and for once the populace seemed to side with 
 the soldier. The tall young man in the ulster 
 and travelling-cap lounged up to the counter 
 and tossed a two-dollar bill at the angry man 
 ager. " Give them what they want," said he, 
 "and be quick about it. Have some coffee 
 yourself, sergeant. There 11 be no other chance 
 till you get to Butte." Then, with swift, sig 
 nificant, downward glance at the flap of a pocket, 
 he lifted into view the silver top of a sizable 
 50 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 flask, and the sergeant grinned and nodded 
 appreciatively. The steaming cups were slid 
 along the board, the embryo soldiers laughing 
 and hustling good-naturedly, pouring the hot 
 liquid into the thick stone saucers and blowing 
 industriously at the yellow-brown flood. The 
 conductor came to the door and stormed ; the 
 passengers began to edge away for their cars. 
 No. 783 gave a warning whoop or two, and the 
 fireman pulled at the bell-cord, but the blue- 
 coats wouldn t budge. 
 
 " Go ahead, Long. Damned if I ll hold this 
 train another second," shouted the conductor, 
 with energetic wave of his lantern. Hiss went 
 the stop-cocks. The big engine quivered and 
 trembled in response, and with convulsive 
 cough a volume of inky smoke was belched 
 from the stack. Scut s bell clanged furiously, 
 but only very slowly the long, ponderous train 
 began to move. The crockery rattled and the 
 windows shook as the massive engine came 
 boiling and rumbling and panting by. The 
 conductor heard his name called by the en 
 gineer and hurried alongside. " Look out for 
 that kid in the big ulster. Tell you why at 
 Willow Springs, was the hoarse warning, as, 
 with slowly quickening speed, old 783 went 
 ponderously on. The conductor looked dazed. 
 The joyous band of blue-coats came tumbling 
 forth as the foremost car rolled smoothly past, 
 and, agile as monkeys, leaped to the platform 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 of the baggage and "smoker," waving their 
 caps and shouting jovial farewells. The ser 
 geant, once more assuming official relations, 
 sternly ordered them within their own car, and 
 bade them keep quiet, that the other men, 
 wearied, might sleep. Then the conductor 
 came hurriedly in and glanced eagerly about 
 him as the sergeant looked at his watch. 
 
 It was just half-past one. 
 
 "Who s your friend in the ulster?" de 
 manded the conductor. " Where d he go ?" 
 
 Never saw him before in my life, said 
 the sergeant. " I s posed we left him there," 
 he added, with regretful thought of that hand 
 some, capacious, silver-topped flask. 
 
 "Did you see where he went?" asked the 
 conductor of the brakeman who followed in. 
 
 " Thought he jumped on the next car," was 
 the answer. " He had a grip-sack, I know." 
 
 Go and see, was the brief order. 
 
 The official turned once more to the ser 
 geant, who was settling himself back in his 
 seat. " Say, you ll have to take better care 
 of your men," he began. " I can t have them 
 bouncing out at every stopping-place and de 
 laying the train." 
 
 "You don t," said the sergeant, with a 
 yawn. " That s the first time any one of them 
 has got off, and they wouldn t have done that 
 if it wasn t that they were hard up for coffee." 
 
 "You should have given them coffee last 
 52 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 night at the supper station," said the conductor, 
 wrathfully. 
 
 "I did, and it was so bad they threw it 
 away. This was better, and I m sorry they 
 weren t all awake to have some. They ll need 
 it before we get to Butte. What time can we 
 make it now, d you s pose ?" 
 
 "Not before seven, if we do then. We 
 have two freights and a cattle-train to meet, 
 and everything s running crooked to-night, even 
 if we have no other trouble. Sure you never 
 saw that fellow in the ulster before ? * 
 
 "Sure. What s the matter with him ? He 
 treated like a nabob." 
 
 "That s one reason I want to know all about 
 him. What arms have you fellows ?" 
 
 None at all, was the answer, as the ser 
 geant looked up in surprise. " I ve a revolver, 
 of course, but that s all. Why? You never 
 have a hold-up along here, do you ? 
 
 But the conductor did not answer. The 
 train had struck its gait, " as he expressed it, 
 now, and was swaying as it tore westward 
 along the rattling rails. The brakeman was 
 hastening back to the car. See him ? 
 queried the conductor, impatiently. 
 
 " No, sir : he s gone back to the sleeper." 
 
 Somewhere among the drowsing car-load of 
 
 recruits a voice was uplifted in not unmelodious 
 
 song. Most of the men were sleeping soundly, 
 
 but the lively squad of night-owls just bundled 
 
 53 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 aboard, refreshed by their coffee and bite at 
 the station, seemed desirous of further enter 
 tainment. " Odd," said the conductor, "I ve 
 hauled many a lot of poor devils out to Wy 
 oming and beyond ; most of em never came 
 back, but I never yet saw a lot that didn t 
 sing. What on earth have they got to sing 
 for? 1 
 
 " The Lord knows," answered the sergeant, 
 "and I ve been soldiering twenty years." 
 
 Always in the cavalry ? 
 
 "Yes, all but one listment in a casemate 
 that brought me nearer to desertion than ever I 
 thought to be. * 
 
 " Never meet my engineer, Jimmy Long ? 
 He used to be sergeant in the cavalry out 
 here. Got shot through the legs in an Indian 
 fight seven or eight years ago and had to 
 quit. 
 
 " Know of him well, as most of us did, and 
 I d be glad to see him. He s pulling us to 
 night, is he ? 
 
 " Yes, and I wish you d come forward with 
 me when we get to Willow Springs, only a few 
 miles ahead now. He thinks there s some 
 thing wrong with that young fellow in the 
 ulster. I ve got to go back and look him up. 
 Meet me on the platform, right-hand side, when 
 we stop, will you ? 
 
 The sergeant nodded, and the conductor 
 went his way. 
 
 54 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 In the foremost sleeper he found the object 
 of his search, already comfortably ensconced 
 in the smoking-compartment, his ulster thrown 
 aside, his feet on the opposite seat, a fragrant 
 cloud of smoke curling from the tip of his 
 cigar. He had raised the window, and was 
 gazing out upon a spangled firmament above, 
 a black void where lay the barren earth below. 
 Without a word, his cigar still between his 
 teeth, he felt in the waistcoat-pocket of a well- 
 made travelling-suit of tweed, took out a card- 
 case, and extracted therefrom his railway and 
 berth tickets and handed them to the lantern- 
 bearing official. 
 
 The conductor studied the former closely. 
 It was a through from Chicago to Butte, 
 unlimited. He turned it upside down, hind 
 side foremost, and still seemed to find nothing 
 amiss. 
 
 " Where d you get this?" he presently 
 asked, glancing keenly at the young man from 
 under his cap visor. The passenger, still with 
 out removing his cigar, simply pointed to the 
 head of the ticket, which showed that it was 
 purchased at the office of the C. R. I. P. in 
 Chicago. Stopped off at Platte Junction ? 
 asked the conductor. 
 
 Yes. What time will we reach Butte ? 
 
 " Not before seven. Plenty of time to go to 
 bed and sleep." And the tone of the railway 
 official plainly indicated that that was what the 
 55 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 conductor thought the young man ought to do, 
 instead of mooning to all hours of the night in 
 the smoking-room. The passenger gravely 
 nodded acquiescence and said nothing. After 
 an irresolute pause the conductor again spoke : 
 * Did you tell the porter to show you to your 
 berth?" 
 
 The traveller in tweeds was evidently a youth 
 of varying moods. Chatting with the engineer 
 he was frank, jovial, light-hearted, even con 
 fiding. In the brief scene with the troopers he 
 was laughing and friendly, even lavish, from 
 their point of view. Was it some sense of 
 suspicion, some subtle intuition that he was 
 the object of a special scrutiny on the conduc 
 tor s part, that he was being subjected to a 
 cross-questioning never thought of in the case 
 of other patrons of the road ? Something in 
 the conductor s look, tone, and manner had 
 given him umbrage. Like some itinerant clam, 
 storm-tossed and at odds with the world, he 
 drew within his shell and clamped the jaws of 
 his reserve. Something akin to a frown settled 
 between his eyebrows. He looked coolly, al 
 most defiantly, straight into the half-closed eyes 
 of his questioner, with a pair of wide-open 
 keen blue orbs of his own, and under his soft 
 brown moustache his curved pink lips set like 
 a trap. For a moment he made no reply, then 
 finally answered, " No." 
 
 Mr. Jarvis was an old hand. He had run 
 
 56 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 trains over the Transcontinental ever since it 
 first bored a way through the hunting-grounds 
 of the Sioux, and many a tramp had he hustled 
 off the cars in mid-prairie, but this was no 
 tramp. This was a self-possessed, well-dressed, 
 fine-looking tourist, and, but for the straight, 
 sharp, American clip to his words, rather of 
 the English type. He nettled the conductor, 
 and the conductor had nettled him. Each was 
 now bristling at every point, and in no mood to 
 appreciate the other s position. 
 
 * Well, do you propose to sit up all night ? 
 was the next question, propounded in a tone 
 common enough on the far-away Western rail 
 way a decade or so ago. 
 
 What earthly business is it of yours whether 
 I do or not? I ve bought a berth and the 
 privilege of using it or not as I see fit. 
 
 The train was slowing. It was nearing Wil 
 low Springs. The conductor had other duties 
 to attend to, and knew he must quit the 
 field. 
 
 "I ll see you later, my cocky friend," he 
 muttered to himself, as he turned angrily away, 
 with distinct sense of defeat, then let himself 
 out on the platform with a most unprofessional 
 slam of the sleeper door. 
 
 It was a long hundred yards up to the en 
 gine, but Jarvis hastened through the day-car 
 and smoker until he came to the recruit-car 
 platform, by which time the train was at a 
 57 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 stand and he could safely spring off and run 
 alongside. Under the dim light of the station, 
 the tall figure of the cavalry sergeant loomed 
 before his eyes, his chevrons, stripes, and 
 buttons gleaming. The station-keeper came 
 sleepily forth as the conductor stepped into the 
 dim beam of light from the office window. 
 " Come on up to the engine with me," he said, 
 and, wondering, the drowsy servitor followed. 
 The platform was short, and the trio presently 
 had to spring down and trudge along the prai 
 rie sod by the track side. Long was waiting 
 for them, leaning out from his cab. At sight 
 of the once familiar crossed sabres and but 
 tons a gleam of pleasure shot across his grimy 
 face. 
 
 " Hullo," he said. " I used to know pretty 
 much every fellow that wore the stripes in that 
 regiment." 
 
 " And pretty much every fellow in it knew 
 you or of you. My name s Kearney, said the 
 sergeant, reaching up a hand. But the con 
 ductor had no time for ceremonies. 
 
 " What s this about the feller in the ulster ?" 
 he demanded. "He s ticketed through to 
 Butte from Chicago, and is sassy as they make 
 em. What d you know?" 
 
 "I don t know anything. But you remem 
 ber that affair on the K. P. last July, the 
 swell that shot the expressman near Wallace ? 
 Well, he was just such another good-looking 
 58 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 fellow as this, well dressed and all that, with 
 lots of money. What makes me suspicion this 
 chap is that he says he s out here to enlist ; 
 wanted to ride in the cab and talk about it to 
 me. Who ever heard of a fellow wanting to 
 enlist until he was dead broke or half starved ? 
 This young fellow s pockets are full of cigars." 
 
 "He don t want to enlist," chimed in Ser 
 geant Kearney, derisively. " He has a roll as 
 thick as my hand. Treated all the crowd back 
 there at the junction." 
 
 "You hear that?" said Long. "It s just 
 like as not he s aboard to find out who s in 
 that sleeper and who s armed in the day-car, 
 and we ll meet his pals somewhere up in the 
 foot-hills. Better let some of the soldiers into 
 the express-car and one or two here with me 
 after we pass No. 12. Where does she side 
 track for us ?" 
 
 "We ll get orders at Boulder Creek," an 
 swered the conductor. " I ll watch our cocky 
 friend till then. No. 12 can t pull out of 
 Thunder Gap till we get there. Now let her 
 go for all she s worth, Jimmy." 
 
 Then back to the platform he hurried, eag 
 erly explaining to the silent station-master the 
 cause of their delay earlier in the night. The 
 sergeant sprang aboard, and Jarvis swung his 
 lantern. 
 
 "You haven t heard of 12 at all?" he 
 shouted. 
 
 59 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 "Not since she left Pawnee, * was the an 
 swering cry. "They ll hold her at the Gap." 
 
 And now as the sergeant re-entered the stuffy 
 coach the songster had ceased. The melodi 
 ous sounds had given place to many a snore. 
 He glanced again at his watch, and the hands 
 were pointing to five minutes of two. 
 
 60 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 ITTIIUSHING westward through the night, the 
 ^^| great train was indeed * going for all 
 she was worth." Twenty-five miles 
 away lay the foot-hills. There began the tor 
 tuous up-hill climb to the high plateau at Paw 
 nee, forty miles of twist, turn, tug, and -pull, 
 that in the earlier days of the road were never 
 attempted without two engines. Now the 
 mammoths like 783 scorned even a pusher. 
 But to-night she had to haul an extra sleeper 
 and an extra coach, both crowded, the latter 
 packed with recruits, the former with a joyous 
 party of excursionists, bound for the Pacific 
 coast. It was swift, straight, smooth running 
 along the flats of the broad valley, dotted here 
 and there as it was with farms and ranches, and 
 traversed over the old buffalo ranges by great 
 herds of horned cattle. This crisp, moonless, 
 star-lit night all the Western world was dark 
 and still, but for the clank and rush of the flash 
 ing monster with its long, dimly-lighted train. 
 The lonely occupant of the smoking-compart- 
 ment, gazing silently out upon the northward 
 heavens, had forgotten to keep alive the tiny 
 fire of his cigar, and it had died unnoticed be- 
 61 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 tween his long, white, slender fingers. A glance 
 at the handsome watch he drew from his waist 
 coat-pocket told him it was almost two o clock 
 as, after a brief stop at some unknown, almost 
 unseen, station, the train rolled on again. The 
 porter had come in to ask some question about 
 how he would have his pillow, front or back, 
 and was told it made no difference. Would 
 the gentleman like one here in the smoking- 
 room ? No, he would turn in presently. Call 
 him in plenty of time for Butte. Then the 
 porter tiptoed off to the rear of the heavily cur 
 tained aisle and curled himself up in a vacant 
 section, leaving the stranger to his thoughts. 
 
 And that these were sad there could be no 
 doubt whatever. His face as it sank into re 
 pose looked white and drawn in the dim light 
 of the overhanging lamp. Once or twice, as he 
 gazed out upon the waste of darkness, his eyes 
 seemed to fill, his lip to quiver with strange, 
 strong emotion. Once he bent forward, covered 
 his face with both hands, and leaned his elbows 
 on his knees, then suddenly started, pulled 
 himself together, " braced up" as he perhaps 
 would have expressed it, thrust the moist end 
 of the cigar between his teeth, found it cold 
 and unresponsive, tossed it away, arose, gave 
 himself a shake, took the flask from his ulster- 
 pocket and passed through the door-way to 
 the lavatory where were the ice-water tanks, 
 and started despite himself. 
 62 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 A haggard face, flattened against the glass 
 of the forward door-way, was peering in at him, 
 a face that was instantly withdrawn. 
 
 This was before the days of vestibuled cars. 
 Seizing the door-knob and laying his flask on 
 one of the basins, the young fellow quickly let 
 himself out upon the platform and glanced 
 about him. There on the lowest step, clinging 
 to the hand-rail, cringed and cowered the fig 
 ure of a man who turned his head and gazed 
 piteously, pleadingly up at the tall stranger. 
 A tramp beyond doubt, and a shivering wretch 
 he was, for the night air was sharply cold. A 
 powerful hand was laid upon the shoulder of 
 the crouching figure and heaved it up, and the 
 poor creature s teeth chattered as he made 
 some inaudible plea. 
 
 " I can t hear you," said the man in tweeds. 
 "Come in here. You re half frozen." And 
 he would have led him into the sleeper, but 
 found that the snap-latch was set, that he had 
 locked himself out. Still clinging to his pris 
 oner, he led on into the rear door of the day- 
 coach ahead. The lights were burning blear 
 and dim. The passengers, curled or sprawled 
 about their seats, were sleeping as best they 
 could. A brakeman s lantern lay on the floor 
 at the head of the aisle, and the brakeman sat 
 in a forward seat, half dozing, wholly uncon 
 scious of the addition to the car-load. 
 
 Stealing a ride, I suppose ? * said our 
 
 63 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 traveller, presently. " Where re you trying to 
 get to ? And with a shrug of his shoulders 
 he glanced pityingly at his quaking captive. 
 
 "To Pawnee, half-way over the range," 
 was the shivering answer. " I ve got a sick 
 wife there, and was beatin my way as well as 
 
 I could But the poor fellow gave it up. 
 
 Cold and misery and hunger were too much 
 for him. The train was slowing up again ; 
 another prairie station, they had them every 
 ten or dozen miles. The brakeman shook 
 himself, picked up his lantern, and went out 
 in front. The party in tweeds shoved his 
 new acquaintance into the first vacant seat, 
 swung himself to the ground the moment the 
 train stopped, ran back and tapped under a 
 rear window of the sleeper, and the sash was 
 raised and the porter s head popped out. 
 
 "Let me in at the rear door, porter," said 
 Tweeds. " I locked myself out." 
 
 The negro recognized the voice of his well- 
 dressed passenger, sniffed a double fee, and 
 jumped for the door. 
 
 "Beg pardon, suh ; sorry, suh, but we has 
 to lock these doors at night out hyuh : tramps 
 come in most any time if we don t." 
 
 But the young man smiled carelessly, has 
 tened through the car, got his flask, set the 
 latch so that he could re-enter, and the next 
 minute was administering a stiff drink to the 
 rag- heap on the rear seat. Once more the 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 man essayed to tell his story. He was penni 
 less, he hadn t even anything left to sell, but 
 out from an inner pocket he took an old worn 
 card photograph and showed it to his new 
 found friend. "My wife and baby," said 
 he, with a choke, "but the baby s gone, 
 thank God.* 
 
 "Here, take another drink," said Tweeds. 
 Then back to the smoker he went, and reap 
 peared with some sandwiches. The train again 
 moved on. The brakeman returned, became 
 aware of the new-comers, and came down and 
 curiously inspected them. The liquor, the 
 warmth, the food, and human sympathy were 
 restoring courage to the abject object of a few 
 minutes before. He looked up without a qua 
 ver at the brakeman s hail, but Tweeds spoke 
 for him. " I found this poor fellow back here 
 a few miles half frozen, and hauled him in. 
 He only wants to go on to Pawnee. It s all 
 right : he can pay his fare when the conductor 
 comes." 
 
 The brakeman went off suspiciously to hunt 
 up his chief and report, and the conductor 
 promptly appeared. His face grew darker at 
 sight of the two. He held irresolutely the ten- 
 dollar bill handed him by Tweeds, and looked 
 from one man to the other in deep distrust. 
 " I don t understand this," he said. " How d 
 you where d you get aboard ? 
 
 "At Willow Springs," said the tramp. "I 
 5 6 S 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 walked there from the Junction. I d a frozen 
 if it hadn t been for this gentleman/ 
 
 "I can t change this," said the conductor. 
 "I ll fetch it presently." And, nodding to his 
 brakeman to follow him, he hurried up the 
 aisle. At the forward end of the car he whis 
 pered, " Watch those two like a cat, now. I m 
 going forward to get the sergeant and some of 
 his men and seat them here where they can 
 keep an eye on that precious pair. There s 
 fun ahead for somebody this night, but, by 
 God, they don t catch old Bill Jarvis napping. 
 You stay here, now, till I come." 
 
 But no sooner were they gone than the tramp 
 began brokenly to heap thanks and blessings 
 on his benefactor, and the latter impatiently 
 turned away. "That s all right," said he. 
 "Never mind that. I m glad to help, for I 
 believe your story. The conductor will give 
 you the change when he comes in. Now, good 
 night : I ve got to turn in." 
 
 "But say ; Mister ; Stranger, hold on one 
 minute. I I want to pay this back some day. 
 How 11 I know you ? Where 11 I send it ?" 
 
 But Tweeds shook his head, waved him off, 
 strode back to the sleeper, sprung the latch 
 against pursuit, then half filled a glass from 
 his flask, gulped the contents down, and re 
 seated himself in the smoking-compartment. 
 "That s the first man I ve found in a fort 
 night," said he, "more miserable than I am." 
 66 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 With that he took some letters from his 
 pocket, glanced them over, and tore the en 
 velopes to shreds, sending the fragments sail 
 ing on the night. At a small card photograph 
 in a flat Russia leather case, a portrait of a 
 laughing girlish face, he gazed lingeringly, 
 then returned it to an inner pocket. No one 
 would know it now," he muttered. Next he 
 lifted from his card-case a dozen or more paste 
 boards that bore in plain, heavy script the 
 words "Mr. Darcy Hunter Gray, " ripped them 
 into shreds, and sent them flying. As calmly 
 and methodically he searched through every 
 pocket for every scrap of paper, bills or billet- 
 doux, anything that could tend to establish his 
 identity ; glanced dubiously at the monogram 
 on the back of his watch ; scraped the letter 
 ing out of the crown of his hat ; took a foun 
 tain-pen from his pocket and some paper and 
 envelopes from his satchel ; wrote with infinite 
 difficulty, owing to the swaying of the car, two 
 brief notes which he enclosed and stowed under 
 the flap of his bag, then once more glanced at 
 his watch. It was two forty-five, and No. 783 
 was whistling for Boulder Creek. At last they 
 were out of the valley. Now for the climb up 
 the divide. 
 
 One cigar, he muttered. " I let the other 
 go out. His match-box had disappeared. He 
 tried one pocket after another, without result. 
 Neither was there one to be had in the com- 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 partment. The train had stopped, and he 
 could hear footsteps on a wooden platform and 
 the muffled voices of men. Tiptoeing through 
 the long, dim, curtain-bordered aisle, he was 
 suddenly checked. Out from a narrow open 
 ing between the curtains of the second section 
 came a slender little white hand, holding a 
 silver travelling-cup, and a soft voice, silvery 
 as the cup, murmured, Oh, porter, would you 
 kindly get me some water?" Mr. Gray took 
 the cup, filled it, restored it with a bow to the 
 unseen occupant, watched the lily-white hand, 
 with its few treasures of rings, slip back be 
 tween the folds, then aroused the porter, prof 
 fered his request for matches, and asked if 
 there was any possibility of the ladies being 
 incommoded by his smoking. 
 
 " No, suh, not a bit, suh. They can t smell 
 it when you stay in the smoking-room. There s 
 only two ladies in the car, suh. Both going up 
 to Butte, Mrs. Mainwaring and a young lady 
 with her." 
 
 " Know her name ?" 
 
 " No, suh, I don t, suh. The lady with her 
 calls her Pet mos the time." 
 
 Mr. Gray once more returned to his compart 
 ment, lighted his cigar, and seated himself in 
 the corner by the open window. The train still 
 lay at the station. Voices still echoed among 
 the dingy wooden buildings, and a light or two 
 flickered about the platform. The conductor s 
 68 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 voice was presently heard. He was interrogat 
 ing the station-agent, and Gray, seated close to 
 the open casement, couldn t help hearing. 
 
 " Both took tickets to Pawnee ?" 
 
 * Yes, both. Left their horses here in Hank s 
 stable and took supper. No, they haven t been 
 drinking at all." 
 
 Mr. Jarvis lowered his voice. He was talk 
 ing eagerly, but only the answer was audible. 
 
 Oh, of course ; cowboys always are. Each 
 has his revolver and knife. But you ll see em 
 for yourself : they re in the smoking-car. 
 
 "Sure nobody knew em around here?* 
 
 "Certain. They said they d never been 
 here before." 
 
 Mr. Jarvis waved his lantern. "Well, we ve 
 got to go," said he, "but you keep your eyes 
 and ears open, and wire after us. I suppose it s 
 all right about No. 1 2, " he shouted, as he swung 
 on the platform. 
 
 The station-agent s voice followed them out 
 into the night. 
 
 "She s coming along all right. Suppose 
 you ll meet her at the Gap. She s due there 
 at three ten." 
 
 " Due there in five minutes," thought Mr. 
 Gray to himself, as he meditatively puffed at 
 his fine havana, and by good rights I should 
 have been sleeping the sleep of the just and in 
 nocent hours ago." The train soon seemed 
 laboring in a heavy sea. The hoarse panting 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 of the engine came throbbing back on the night. 
 The huge Pullman rolled deep, first to one side 
 awhile, then to the other, as it trailed on around 
 the sharp reverse curves of some unseen grade. 
 Out of the darkness to the right and against the 
 northern stars loomed up dim, bulky shapes, and 
 Gray realized that the foot-hills were reached, 
 that the long tortuous climb was beginning. 
 Up, up, higher and higher steamed the strain 
 ing giant in the lead, the dense smoke-clouds 
 rolling rearward lighted brilliantly every few 
 seconds by the glare from the roaring furnace 
 into which Scut s shovel was heaping coal by 
 the bushel. No. 783 was doing her best, as 
 Long predicted, but even her superb lungs and 
 tempered muscles could barely drag so heavy 
 a burden. Only nine or ten miles an hour was 
 she making now, thought Gray, as once more 
 the sleeper door was opened, and the conductor, 
 followed by a brakeman, bustled in. He glared 
 suspiciously into the dim recess of the smoking- 
 compartment, the brakeman peering over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Ain t you going to bed to-night ?" he asked. 
 
 " Presently," yawned Gray, " if I get sleepy." 
 
 "Your friend there in the other car hasn t 
 lost much time. He s snoring like he hadn t 
 slept for six weeks. Where d he say he lived ?" 
 
 " Pawnee." 
 
 Know him there ? 
 
 "No, nor anybody else." 
 70 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " Never been out here before ?" 
 
 Gray was in no mood for talk, much less for 
 cross-examination. He shrugged his broad 
 shoulders impatiently. Never. 
 
 The conductor hesitated, looked long and 
 fixedly at his passenger, studying what he could 
 see of his face, figure, and clothes in that dim 
 light. He turned half reluctantly away, then 
 turned back. 
 
 " Well, if you want any sleep before we get 
 to Butte you d better be getting it," said he, 
 with that broad freedom of manner and ab 
 sence of conventional restraint begotten of years 
 in the boundless West, and then stood awaiting 
 the result. 
 
 It came, not too soothingly or satisfactorily. 
 
 " When I want it, I ll take it." 
 
 The conductor drew away with distinct sense 
 of another defeat. He stirred up the porter 
 with no gentle touch. "How many of your 
 passengers have got guns ?" he asked. 
 
 The negro started from his seat, dazed and 
 frightened. " Only two or three of em, that I 
 see," was the answer. " That officer in lower 
 3, and two gentlemen in 8 and 9. What s the 
 matter?" 
 
 " Nothing as yet, but I ve a good mind to 
 wake the lieutenant," said Jarvis, his fingers 
 working nervously, as he glanced about the 
 car. The porter s eyes were big, his eyeballs 
 staring. 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 "Wait till I come back," said Mr. Jarvis, 
 presently, and let himself out at the rear door. 
 The last sleeper was dark and silent. Every 
 curtain seemed drawn. Jarvis found his bunch 
 of keys, and after a few seconds fumble opened 
 the door. The air within was close, almost 
 stifling, for every section was occupied. He 
 found the porter snoring in the smoking-room, 
 stirred him vigorously, and propounded rapid 
 questions. The bewildered darky answered to 
 the point. Some of the young men among his 
 excursionists might have pistols in their grips, 
 but he d only seen one in a hip pocket. There 
 were ten ladies and twelve men, he said, all 
 unconscious of danger of any kind, and, as it 
 was a chartered car and they were out for a long 
 pleasure-trip, no doubt there was plenty of 
 money, to say nothing of watches and jewelry, 
 in the party. It was the first of the kind that 
 had come up the road for a month. Jarvis 
 knew it had been well advertised. What more 
 likely than that the daring fellows who had 
 made things lively on the other road should 
 have planned to hold up this particular train ? 
 What better place could they select than the 
 lonely, rugged, almost mountainous tract be 
 tween Thunder Gap and Boulder Creek ? And 
 if they weren t already boarding his train, one 
 or two at a time, just as they did on the K. P., 
 then call him a Chinaman. That swagger and 
 stylish young man at the Junction, " salooning 
 72 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 the soldiers and making himself solid with 
 them," the shivering tramp at Willow Springs 
 who was so promptly found and so lavishly 
 paid for and provided for by the same suspicious 
 party (" Fancy his enlisting !" thought the con 
 ductor : that cock-and-bull story that he told 
 Long was enough to damn him from the start"), 
 and now these two cowboys in the smoker, 
 fellows that took supper and left their plugs at 
 Hank s and said they were going up to Pawnee 
 for a flyer, but allowed they knew nobody there, 
 or in that part of the valley. Jarvis felt more 
 uneasy with every minute. 
 
 " I m blessed if I don t think I ought to 
 wake some of the likeliest of these young 
 fellows," said he to the porter; "but I ll go 
 and have out the lieutenant anyhow." 
 
 Suiting action to the word, back he went to 
 the forward sleeper. "Wake the gentleman 
 in No. 3," said he to the porter, as he re- 
 entered, and found that dusky guardian eagerly, 
 anxiously awaiting him. 
 
 "He s gittin up, suh. I done call him." 
 And at the moment, rubbing a pair of bleary, 
 sleepy, red-rimmed eyes with one hand and 
 buttoning a cavalry sack-coat with the other, 
 a stocky, heavily built man of about thirty-five 
 came lurching down the aisle. Briefly the 
 conductor told his suspicions and asked what 
 help he could have in case of trouble. The 
 cavalryman was evidently a trifle hard to rouse. 
 73 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 He seemed slow of comprehension. He pon 
 dered a bit, looking dumbly from the conductor 
 to the porter, with eyes that did not clear as 
 rapidly as they should have done. At last he 
 said, 
 
 "One of them in this car? * 
 
 " Yes, smoking in the compartment yonder." 
 
 Following the conductor, the officer mean 
 dered up the aisle. The Pullman was swaying 
 violently now. The train had reached the 
 summit of the divide and was rushing down the 
 westward slope at a speed that became swifter 
 every moment. The lieutenant stopped at his 
 berth and rummaged under a pillow. 
 
 " You re not getting a gun now ?" whispered 
 the conductor, warningly. 
 
 "No, only a pocket pistol," was the an 
 swer, as the blue blouse straightened up and 
 produced a half-filled flask. 
 
 " I wish your men, those recruits, had arms, * 
 muttered the conductor, as they went on again. 
 Then he held up a warning hand. They were 
 just squeezing through the narrow passage be 
 tween the smoking-compartment and the side 
 of the car. * Wait till I see what he s doing, 
 said Jarvis, and disappeared around the corner. 
 Presently he beckoned, and, flask in hand, the 
 lieutenant followed on, glancing casually at the 
 dim form near the window, stepped to the 
 wash-stand and found a tumbler, half filled it 
 with liquor, and proffered it to the conductor, 
 74 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 who shook his head. The soldier poured in a 
 little water, and swallowed it all at a gulp. 
 
 "Now," said he, " let s have a look at your 
 man." 
 
 The conductor stepped inside the smoker, 
 feigning to try to decipher the writing on a 
 card he held in his hand, but, as though the 
 light were too dim, reached up and turned 
 higher the flame, brightly illuminating the little 
 compartment in a moment. Gray may have 
 been dozing. He glanced quickly up, as 
 though startled, and his eyes met those of the 
 stout man in cavalry uniform. For a moment 
 they looked at each other searchingly and 
 without a word. A flush as of surprise and 
 annoyance began to mount to the civilian s 
 face ; a flush that was not of surprise was al 
 ready manifest on that of the soldier. The 
 conductor glanced from one to the other as 
 though about to speak. 
 
 Suddenly the night was rent by one sharp, 
 quick, almost agonized shriek from the engine, 
 far ahead. Suddenly, so suddenly that it al 
 most hurled Jarvis and the lieutenant off their 
 feet, the air-brakes gripped like a vice, the 
 whizzing wheels instantly checking their way, 
 the smooth, swift motion changed to a jerky, 
 grinding, straining series of bumps. Jarvis, 
 turning white as a sheet, sprang to the door 
 the instant he could recover balance. For 
 six, eight seconds the Pullman went thumping 
 75 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 ahead, slower and slower every second, yet 
 still at dangerous speed. Then came a thun 
 derous shock and crash. Gray, whose feet 
 were on the opposite seat, doubled up like a 
 jack-knife, his nose and knees jammed to 
 gether, the back seat clamped tight against 
 that in front. The lieutenant shot forward out 
 of sight, and was overheard fetching up with 
 a resounding thump against the front door. 
 There was a crackling of window-glass, a sound 
 of stifled shrieks and groans. The big car re 
 coiled some thirty or forty yards, then came to 
 a stand-still, and Mr. Gray, scrambling out from 
 the smoking-compartment, nearly stumbled 
 over the prostrate officer, who was slowly find 
 ing his feet. But, following some half-artic 
 ulate cry for help, Gray darted through the 
 narrow passage-way, into the curtained aisle, 
 now rapidly filling with men, much more dazed 
 than dressed, some of them bleeding from con 
 tusions, all of them shaken and scared, and, 
 slowly sliding out of the nearest berth, came a 
 blue-robed, slender, senseless form, that of 
 the soft-voiced occupant who half an hour 
 earlier had importuned him for water. In an 
 instant Gray stooped, raised her in his arms, 
 bore her through the passage, nearly capsizing 
 the lieutenant the second time, laid her flat 
 upon the long seat in the smoker, and applied 
 his fine cambric handkerchief to a gash in the 
 left temple, from which the blood was oozing. 
 76 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MELANCHOLY scene of wreck and 
 disaster was that which greeted the 
 eyes of Mr. Gray when perhaps half an 
 hour later he stepped from the platform and 
 made his way forward. Through some strange 
 neglect of telegraphic orders from Butte, the 
 conductor and engineer of No. 12 had not 
 been bidden to side-track at Thunder Gap, but 
 had been sent spinning on their way down 
 grade five miles to Alkali Flats, where the road 
 crossed to the northeast and began to climb 
 over the divide to Boulder Creek, and right 
 here, at the end of a straight-away mile of 
 track, the head-light of the Pacific express 
 flashed into view. Each engineer sighted the 
 glaring eye of the other s steed at the same in 
 stant. Each sounded his warning cry. Each 
 instantly reversed his lever, reckless of cylinder- 
 heads. Long had vainly sprung the air-brake, 
 and No. I2 s brakemen had spun their iron 
 wheels for all they were worth, but still, with 
 the fearful momentum of their down-grade rush, 
 the two trains dashed at each other like mad 
 dened bulls, and engineer and fireman, having 
 done all that mortal men could do, jumped for 
 77 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 their lives a second or two before the crash. 
 The lighter train of the two, the express, had 
 so far slackened speed that Long and his fire 
 man, landing and rolling in the soft sand, were 
 but slightly hurt. The engineer of the freight, 
 however, was tumbled heels over head, and 
 then knocked senseless by a flying splinter. 
 The fireman had only just been found as Gray 
 reached the point where the two engines, 
 locked deep in each other s embrace, stood 
 welded together, a tangled mass of metal. 
 The whistle of one of them, dislocated by the 
 shock, was emitting a low, moaning sound, as 
 of some huge beast in agony. The tender of 
 the express had telescoped half its length 
 through the mail-car, and the postal clerk had 
 been hauled from under a confused heap of 
 coal and mail-sacks. The mail-car in turn had 
 smashed in the front of the express, and this, 
 forced flat against the front of the baggage-car, 
 left the messenger a helpless prisoner within 
 his own premises, unable to open even a side 
 door. How the baggage-man escaped death 
 he never could tell. He and his trunks were 
 hurled to the front end of the car, all in a 
 heap, yet, barring damages to clothing and 
 cuticle, he was little the worse for the adven 
 ture. Then came the car-load of recruits. 
 Hardly a man of their number had a whole 
 skin left. The seats were wrenched loose, the 
 windows were shattered. The smoker, too, 
 
 78 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 was a sight ; its few occupants had been hurled 
 about promiscuously, and were still swearing 
 when Gray got to the front. People in the 
 day-coach were less damaged, but equally 
 dazed, and in the two Pullmans consternation 
 reigned supreme. The excursionists were all 
 sound asleep up to the instant of impact, and 
 those in the upper berths had been tumbled 
 into the aisle, and all the car-load violently 
 shaken. But in the forward Pullman the actual 
 damage was greater. The porter was groan 
 ing with a twisted back. Two of the men 
 were badly wrenched. Lieutenant Rawson 
 had a bump as big as a grape-shot on the side 
 of his head. Mrs. Mainwaring, though unin 
 jured, was so terrified as to be worse than 
 helpless, and as for the fair girl with her, she 
 had happened to be awake, had lifted herself 
 on her elbow at the shriek of the whistle, fear 
 ful of ill, and almost instantly had been dashed 
 against the edge of the seat and cruelly stunned. 
 Of the freight train, the six cars immediately 
 behind the engine were crushed to fragments, 
 and the fragments hurled far and wide. It was 
 from under a heap of these they lugged the 
 fireman as Gray appeared, and this summed 
 up the damage to person and material, but not 
 to nerves, tempers, or records for piety. The 
 language of Mr. Jarvis and his friend of the 
 freight train beggared description. The cavalry 
 sergeant felt an access of envious respect as he 
 79 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 listened. Lieutenant Rawson invited both to 
 have a drink, and this time it was accepted. 
 
 It was a five-mile stretch up to the Gap, and 
 much more than that back to Boulder, but news 
 of the mishap had to be sent and help sum 
 moned. It was then that Gray s shabby tramp 
 had come to the fore. He had been warmed, 
 fed, and rested, as he had not been for a week. 
 He was used to walking, he said, and offered 
 to carry the conductor s pencilled despatch. It 
 should have been sent by a brakernan of the 
 freight, but both were lamed and badly bruised. 
 Jarvis looked more than uncertain at first, but 
 finally gave the man the important paper. 
 Twenty minutes later, the two cowboys, despite 
 bangs and bruises, declared that they too would 
 " hoof it," and pushed ahead through the pal 
 lid dawn. Gray, silent and observant, ap 
 peared just as they departed, and found the 
 lieutenant, the two conductors, and the cavalry 
 sergeant in a quadrangular council. At sight 
 of the new-comer Jarvis cautioned silence, and 
 dissolved the meeting. 
 
 The girl whom Gray had so promptly and 
 tenderly cared for had recovered consciousness 
 within five minutes. She looked up, dazed 
 and startled, into the strange face bending 
 over her, and then almost instantly asked for 
 Mrs. Mainwaring. 
 
 She is unhurt, said Gray, quietly. Don t 
 worry. You have quite a bruise here on the 
 80 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 side of your head. Please lie still until I check 
 the bleeding. Mrs. Mainwaring will be back 
 in a moment." 
 
 Mrs. Mainwaring had been there, half dis 
 tracted, wringing her hands and laughing and 
 crying by turns, and was now lying in her 
 berth, being ministered to by some sympa 
 thetic woman from the other car. Another 
 had come to aid Gray, but, seeing how deftly 
 he bathed and stanched the wound, she con 
 fined her attentions to wetting towels and pass 
 ing them to the strange gentleman. So skilful 
 were his ministrations that the young lady 
 presently declared herself, able to sit up and 
 walk, and insisted on seeing Mrs. Mainwaring. 
 She was assisted to her feet, and, leaning on 
 his arm, was taken to her friend. Gray left her 
 there, slipped quietly away, and came forth, his 
 heart beating with odd emotion. 
 
 The next thing he found to do was to help 
 straighten out the fireman of the freight, who 
 was shaking like an aspen, completely demor 
 alized and almost crying. He, too, had struck 
 soft sand when he leaped from the train, but 
 after a somersault or two had been buried under 
 an avalanche of splintered board, distributed 
 from the roofs, sides, and flooring of the shat 
 tered cars. The heavy trucks, wheels, and 
 beams fortunately had not been hurled more 
 than a dozen yards from the track, but kind 
 ling-wood in distracting quantities had been 
 6 81 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 showered far and near. The handsome silver- 
 topped flask, so admired of the sergeant at the 
 Junction, was promptly produced, and the fire 
 man took a long, long pull. Then Gray be 
 thought him of his tramp. The recruits and 
 passengers mingling in confused knot with the 
 damaged men were still grouped about the 
 wreck, some detailing personal impressions and 
 experiences, some noisy and nervous, others 
 silent and doubtless thankful for their escape, 
 others still thinking only of the injured. Of 
 these latter was Gray, at whom the conductor 
 was scowling suspiciously the while, and saying 
 something in a low tone to the lieutenant. 
 
 1 Do you know what became of that poor 
 fellow we picked up at Willow Springs ? asked 
 Gray of the brakeman, who was ruefully con 
 templating a ruined lantern. The man looked 
 up instantly, but, instead of answering, turned 
 and glanced significantly at the conductor. 
 
 If you want him, said the latter, coolly, 
 " you ll have to follow the track five miles or 
 more. Perhaps you knew the two that went 
 after him. Birds of a feather, I take it, 
 bound for the Gap and a spree on what s left 
 of that ten-dollar bill." 
 
 "I m very glad to hear he isn t hurt," said 
 Gray. "You ve sent for help, I presume ?" 
 
 "I ve sent a message by that tramp friend 
 of yours, if that s what you mean. None of 
 my crew or the freight could walk a mile. 
 82 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 All this time Lieutenant Rawson stood aloof, 
 his forage-cap pulled down over his brows, in 
 tently eying the stylishly dressed man in tweeds. 
 Gray became conscious of the scrutiny, and it 
 annoyed him. Of the passengers in the day- 
 coach none were men whom he would have 
 been at all likely to meet on equal terms in his 
 past. Among those of the forward sleeper 
 only two or three appeared to be men of edu 
 cation or social standing, and they were nursing 
 their bruises back in the lavatory. The young 
 fellows of the rear Pullman were laughing and 
 chatting noisily together as they rummaged 
 about the wreck. The officer was the one man 
 aboard the train whom ordinarily Gray would 
 have felt inclined to address. But while the 
 uniform and the assurance of at least a certain 
 social standing on the part of its wearer at 
 tracted him, there was that in Rawson s face 
 which repelled. Nor was this wholly due to 
 the fact that it lacked refinement and was a 
 trifle bloated, that the eyes were somewhat 
 dull and clouded ; but in them Gray read un 
 erringly an expression of distrust, even of hos 
 tility, and the pugnacious in him was aroused 
 at once. 
 
 All of a sudden he recalled that the porter 
 had told him Mrs. Mainwaring was an army 
 lady ; so, doubtless, was the young lady with 
 her. Very possibly the lieutenant was their 
 escort, and the escort was wrathful over his 
 
 83 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 usurpation of an escort s functions, so far as 
 the damsel was concerned. Gray could not 
 remember the officer s busying himself in any 
 way to aid Mrs. Mainwaring. True, he was 
 still half stunned, and was bathing his bruises, 
 while Gray was caring for the very attractive 
 if somewhat dishevelled girl in the pale-blue 
 wrapper. Something in the contemplation of 
 his loneliness and isolation during the earlier 
 night a man without a home, the would-be 
 sharer of the fireman s seat, the companion 
 of the rude soldiery, the aider and abettor of 
 tramps and the exaltation of his present, 
 tickled his sense of the humorous. Had he 
 not won the gratitude, the almost effusive 
 thanks, of Mrs. Mainwaring, the eloquent, if 
 silent, recognition of a very pretty girl, and 
 now the undoubted jealousy and dislike of an 
 army officer ? "There s some fun left in life, 
 even now," was his grim comment, as he 
 calmly studied Rawson s reddening face, gazing 
 speculatively into the latter s shifting eyes until 
 uneasily they turned away. 
 
 The gray dawn was sheeting the slopes about 
 them, and farther to the west the mountain-tops 
 loomed, dim, pallid, and white with snow. 
 Fine, soft flakes were sifting down even here, 
 and Long s prediction was being verified. 
 That faithful soldier of his country and "the 
 Road" was now stretched on the flat of his 
 back on the floor of the baggage-car, with 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 some car-seats for mattress, pluckily stifling 
 the moan of pain that would have forced itself 
 through his set teeth. To him came the younger 
 soldier, the sergeant, full of sympathy. 
 
 "You re badly shaken, Mr. Long : wouldn t 
 a little whiskey help you ? said he, the cavalry 
 cure-all of the old days most naturally suggest 
 ing itself. 
 
 " I don t know but what it would," groaned 
 the engineer. " The lieutenant has some, 
 hasn t he ?" 
 
 " Yes, he has," was the half-hesitant reply. 
 Then the freemasonry of the craft seemed to 
 show in the look that followed, half comical, 
 half confiding, but all significant. But he 
 ain t the sort of man I d ask for anything. 
 Tain t like as if it was Captain Ray or Blake 
 or Truscott or any of them was here, you 
 know. But I can find you some all right." 
 
 And, jumping from the car, Sergeant Kear 
 ney went straight to Mr. Gray. Our engi 
 neer, sir, said he, is badly stove up. Could 
 you oblige me with a little whiskey ? 
 
 " Certainly," said Gray, going down into his 
 pocket and fishing up the silver-topped flask. 
 "Give him a good swig, and, sergeant, help 
 yourself." 
 
 The sergeant grinned, thanked him, hurried 
 back to his new friend, and gave him what he 
 called an honest cavalry four fingers. 
 
 "God !" said Long, smacking his lips, his 
 
 85 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 eyes snapping. "That was an old-timer/ 
 Then, as the potent liquor, long a stranger to 
 his once casehardened system, began glowingly 
 to assert itself, he blinked his gratitude and 
 looked admiringly at the handsome flask. 
 "That s a swell stopper you ve got to that 
 canteen, sergeant. Where d you capture it ? * 
 
 Tall young fellow in the first sleeper. 
 Seems to have money and whiskey, cigars and 
 good nature, till you can t rest," said Kearney, 
 in the vernacular of the day, and was surprised 
 at Long s sudden interest. The engineer braced 
 himself up on an elbow, all eagerness. 
 
 " Smooth face, with light moustache, regu 
 lar six-footer, slim, broad-shouldered, travel 
 ling-cap and big ulster?" 
 
 That s the feller. Treated half my squad 
 to pie and coffee back there at the Junction. 
 
 No end of a swell, I Why, what s amiss ? 
 
 Say, I wouldn t take another drink just now, 
 would you ? he broke off, anxiously, for Long 
 was reaching for the flask. 
 
 I want to see the monogram, or whatever 
 you call it, on that silver stopper. D ye know 
 what I think of that feller? He s first-cousin 
 or twin brother to the foxiest gang of bank- 
 and train-robbers in the whole country, and if 
 we hadn t run over or run our nose slap into 
 No. 12 right here at Alkali Flats, I m betting 
 my bottom dollar we d have found his gang 
 waiting for us back of Thunder Gap." 
 86 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Kearney drew back, startled. Long had 
 seized the flask, and was studying the stopper 
 with keen interest. No wonder he couldn t 
 decipher it. There was no monogram. In 
 stead there was a queer-shaped shield with di 
 agonal lines and odd little figures, like tiny 
 leaves cut on the surface, and above it was the 
 paw of an animal grasping a dagger, and there 
 was a scroll with some words in a foreign 
 tongue, Long knew not what. He searched 
 the cup of silver that fitted on the base, but 
 that was smooth and polished. The red Rus 
 sia leather covering also bore no mark. 
 
 "That don t look like a train-robber/ said 
 Kearney, pointing to the device on the top of 
 the stopper. " Ain t that what you call a coat 
 of arms, or something ?" 
 
 Exactly ; and what s an American doing 
 with a coat of arms ? He s lifted it from some 
 dook or other, touring through the West for 
 buffalo and Indians. He s a slick one, ser 
 geant, but he can t fool me. Why, he just 
 gave himself dead away when he told me he 
 wanted to ride up with me and Scut in the cab, 
 pretending he was out here to enlist in the cav 
 alry and wanted to talk with me about the offi 
 cers that were coming there to Ransom. Yes, 
 sir." And Long grinned sardonically, despite 
 his pain. 
 
 Kearney s answer was a long whistle of 
 amazement. 
 
 87 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " You d never have got me to believe it if he 
 hadn t made that break. Fancy a swell like 
 him a-grooming horses and cleaning out stalls. 
 Hush," suddenly lowering his voice, for at the 
 instant Mr. Gray came briskly into the car. 
 
 The dawn was so far advanced that the night- 
 lights were no longer needed and were burning 
 blear and dim. The battered baggage-man, in 
 no pleasant humor, because an excursionist 
 from the rear Pullman, with ill-timed jocularity, 
 had asked him how he liked the taste of his 
 own medicine, was muttering profane com 
 ment on excursionists in general and this one 
 in particular, as he took down the nearest lamp 
 and extinguished it. Gray s tall figure, bereft 
 now of the ulster, was outlined against the 
 brighter light at the rear door as he entered, and 
 Long turned his head and stared at him curi 
 ously. For a moment, coming as he did from 
 the outer air where it was now almost broad 
 daylight, though the sun was not yet peeping 
 over the eastern horizon, the new-comer was 
 not quite sure whether the dark object on the 
 floor was or was not the engineer, but he spoke 
 cheerily. 
 
 "I m looking for Mr. Long," he said. "I 
 hear he 1 s badly wrenched. Ah, there you are. 
 How are you feeling ? 
 
 "As well as a man can who s turned half a 
 dozen somersaults in the mud. You can thank 
 God you didn t get aboard the cab." 
 88 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " I can indeed," laughed Gray. "I ve never 
 practised mounting and dismounting at a gallop 
 from a locomotive, though I ve tried it often 
 enough from my horse. 
 
 Mr. Long winked expressively at Kearney, 
 as though he would say, Now watch out for a 
 lie, and promptly popped the question. 
 
 " So you thought you d join the cavalry on 
 that account, did you ? 
 
 And, to the amazement of Sergeant Kearney 
 and the incredulous disdain of Mr. Long, the 
 calm reply was, "That s what I m going to 
 Butte for. I expect to be at squad drill in a 
 day or two. Possibly the sergeant here will be 
 giving me my setting up," said he, turning 
 frankly and smilingly to Kearney. 
 
 You talk as though you knew the drill al 
 ready, sir," said the sergeant, still unable to 
 credit the statement, yet powerless against the 
 gay, frank good humor of the civilian ; and 
 it isn t the likes of you that generally take a 
 blanket. 
 
 " Oh, I used to shoulder arms in the militia, " 
 laughed Gray, " and do the four exercises, but 
 I m green as any recruit in your party, as you ll 
 probably find out, if you re going to Ransom." 
 
 Kearney looked at Long, and Long glared at 
 Kearney. This was simply too brazen a fraud 
 for the engineer s patience. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me a man who wears 
 clothes like them and carries a flask like this 
 89 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 can t find any easier way of making a living ?" 
 said he. 
 
 "Positive fact," laughed Gray, debonair as 
 before. " I m at the end of my tether, or soon 
 will be, and I ve come all the way out here for 
 no other purpose. 
 
 " Why didn t you save your money and list 
 in the East, where you came from ? asked 
 Long, prodding Kearney with his toe to call 
 attention to his astuteness. 
 
 "For the simplest of reasons. Had I en 
 listed there they might have sent me to any 
 regiment, whereas I wanted a particular one, 
 the th, in fact." 
 
 Long had lost another point, but rallied. His 
 tone was gruff as Mainwaring s as he returned 
 to the attack : " One would suppose a feller 
 a man like you could command influence 
 enough to get assigned to any regiment he 
 wanted. That ain t much of a trick." 
 
 " No," answered Gray, as he seated himself 
 on the conductor s big wooden chest and care 
 lessly swung his slender foot ; "no, I don t be 
 lieve I ve got either friends or influence, or any 
 thing in the wide world, but what I ve got on 
 and what s in an old trunk somewhere along 
 the road here. 
 
 "Didn t you say something about quitting 
 railroading to take up soldiering?" queried 
 Long, so astonished that he was forgetting his 
 pain. 
 
 90 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " I did. Two years ago I did some railroad 
 ing at the general manager s end of the line. 
 So you see how little I must have known about 
 it. Yes," he went on, with twinkling eyes, " I 
 used to ride my own horse, but I ve lost him, 
 so it s got to be one of Uncle Sam s." 
 
 For a moment nothing further was said. A 
 pair of frank blue eyes were gazing smilingly 
 down into the engineer s face, and that ex- 
 trooper could find no excuse for another ex 
 pression of doubt. Slowly he held forth the 
 half-emptied flask. 
 
 Here, said he, take this. I m damned 
 if you re not too many for me. But," a sudden 
 thought striking him, "why don t you sell this 
 and your watch and them clothes and go to the 
 mines and make a stake there ? 
 
 " Because I d rather soldier, man," was the 
 smiling answer, Gray s good humor was in 
 domitable, " and down in the bottom of your 
 heart you know perfectly well you never see the 
 uniform, and here he laid a hand on Kearney s 
 shoulder, "that you don t more than half wish 
 you were in it again and riding the trail or the 
 prairie rather than the iron track. I don t have 
 to sell anything yet," he added, with almost a 
 laugh. " Keep the whiskey, Mr. Long. You ve 
 more need of it than I have. I ll see you again 
 after a while." And with that he rose, and, 
 nodding smilingly to Kearney, sauntered from 
 the car. 
 
 9* 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 "Well, if that s a train-robber," said the 
 latter, as he reached and took the flask from 
 Long s unresisting hand, "here s" the top 
 came off and the flask was lifted to his lips 
 "here s long life to him." 
 
 Late that morning the relief train came down 
 from Pawnee, the East-bound express at its 
 heels. Passengers and baggage were laboriously 
 transferred from one train to the other around 
 the scene of the wreck. Mr. Long, bidding 
 mournful adieu to No. 783, asked Sergeant 
 Kearney to see that the now empty flask was 
 returned to the tall feller that talked of enlist 
 ing. " He may talk till hell freezes over," said 
 Long, but not till I see him in uniform will I 
 believe he isn t lying, and even then I ll mis 
 doubt him for a reformed train-robber or an 
 escaped lunatic." 
 
 But of this and other unflattering comments 
 Mr. Gray was unconscious. By eight o clock 
 some railway-men arrived from the Gap on a 
 hand-car, proving that the suspected tramp had 
 at least delivered his despatches. People were 
 getting hungry by that time, and it presently 
 transpired that "the tall gent" in the first 
 sleeper was going back with the hand-car to see 
 what he could buy and send to them, as it would 
 be noon perhaps before the wrecking-train, etc., 
 would come. Then the porter addressed Mr. 
 Gray with a message. Mrs. Mainwaring begged 
 to see the gentleman before he started. 
 92 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 She was calm and collected now, and evi 
 dently ashamed of the trouble she had given. 
 The young lady was seated by an open win 
 dow, languidly drinking in the fresh air, a 
 silken handkerchief bound about her head. 
 
 "We are so very much indebted to you," 
 said the matron, rising at the entrance of the 
 young man, "and both my niece, Miss Leroy, 
 and I wished to thank you before we parted. 
 I am Mrs. Mainwaring, and my husband, 
 Major Mainwaring, whom I expect to meet to 
 day, will be glad to add his thanks to mine, if 
 you will kindly give me your address." 
 
 "I assure you the thanks are unnecessary. 
 I am only to happy to have been of the faint 
 est service. I am awfully clumsy, I fear," 
 said Gray, smiling, as his eyes wandered to 
 Miss Leroy s face. She was leaning forward 
 now and extending the pretty white hand he 
 had so admired much earlier that morning. 
 
 "And I want to say, yet I don t know how 
 to say, how very much I thank you, she mur 
 mured, her words falling hesitatingly, "and 
 
 Pray, do not think me impertinent, but 
 
 did I not see you were you not on the Rhine 
 last May ?" 
 
 His whole manner seemed to change in 
 stantly. Quiet good humor and courtesy gave 
 place to embarrassment, even awkwardness. 
 
 "It was possibly a brother of mine," he 
 faltered. " I I hope you ll have a very 
 93 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 pleasant journey. Such ill luck, thus far, you 
 
 know He barely touched the extended 
 
 hand. "Good-by. Good-by, Mrs. Main- 
 waring. They they re waiting for me with 
 that hand-car." And in an instant he was 
 hastening away. 
 
 " But you haven t told us your name or your 
 address," persisted the elder lady. 
 
 "Oh, it s of no consequence. You remem 
 ber Mr. Toots, don t you ?" he called back over 
 his shoulder, as he made his escape from the 
 car. But on the platform without the flitting 
 smile vanished, and his face grew gray and 
 sad, as he stopped and took a long, long 
 breath. 
 
 "Lesson number one, and a tough one, 
 Darcy, my boy," he panted. " My God, what 
 is my name to be now ? * 
 
 94 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 j[HE th had been having what Captain 
 Ray called a " poky" time most of that 
 year, and when Ray s usually sunny na 
 ture clouded over something was sure to be 
 amiss with the professional side of the man. 
 His domestic side was perennial joy. The 
 regiment had known many a hard winter, many 
 a fierce summer, many a sharp campaign and 
 savage battle. Its long exile in Arizona in the 
 old days was full of peril and suffering. Its 
 sometimes desperate encounters with the red 
 warriors of the northern plains and mountains 
 had made sad inroads on its membership. Its 
 records of casualties embraced every conceiv 
 able catastrophe : death by sunstroke, starva 
 tion, freezing, lightning, flood, fire, rattlesnakes, 
 explosions, thirst, arrow and tomahawk, shot, 
 sabre, and shell. A peaceful year it never 
 knew from the day of its first muster on the 
 plains of Texas until a quarter-century after, 
 when, miribile dictu, there hadn t even been 
 a horse-thief to follow or an Indian to chase 
 until, late in the summer, it occurred to a 
 band of Cheyennes to ride northward and call 
 95 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 on some kindred up in the Powder River 
 country, and these children of nature never 
 thought of asking anybody s leave. The th 
 had been having, as Ray said, so poky a time 
 at Russell just drilling, drilling, drilling on 
 that wide sweep of upland prairie, instead of 
 scouting and fighting through the mountains, 
 their normal summer recreation that the regi 
 ment shouted for very joy when it heard that 
 Sharp-Knife, the young Hotspur that headed 
 the raid, had soundly thrashed the first detach 
 ment sent to head him off, and, indignant at 
 the discourtesy of the Great Father in essaying 
 to curb his inclination to roam, was helping 
 himself to all the horned cattle, horses, and 
 household goods that lay in his way, not to 
 mention a few of the households, and was ca 
 reering onward bound for a big time in the Big 
 Horn Mountains, bragging to the Northern 
 Cheyennes of the fun he had had. 
 
 Then away went Colonel Atherton, with 
 Stannard and Mainwaring, the old and the new 
 majors, and eight " husky" troops, full tilt for 
 the Hills, only to find when they reached the 
 broad valley of the Ska that Sharp- Knife and 
 his shifty followers had crossed forty-eight 
 hours ahead and were circling westward across 
 the Little Missouri by that time. Never is a 
 stern chase so long a chase as when the Indian 
 has the lead. The department commander 
 followed by rail, stage-coach, and buckboard, 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 and half the troops in the Territories of Dakota, 
 Montana, and Wyoming were centring on the 
 Cheyennes, when Sharp-Knife cut loose from 
 all semblance of a base and took to the woods 
 in earnest. His people scattered to the four 
 winds. Some hid among the northern bands 
 of the same tribe, some slipped in among the 
 Sioux at the great reservations in Dakota, others 
 scattered far and wide, broke up into little 
 squads of three or four, and even less, and 
 jogged back by circuitous routes to the southern 
 plains, and swore they d only been hunting 
 along the Arkansas. There s only one crea 
 ture that can beat an Indian, murder one 
 minute and look the image of piety the 
 next, and that s a cat. It was "a poky 
 summer," said Ray, at Russell. It was poor 
 kind of campaigning, said that same author 
 ity, but better than none. It was the move 
 that followed that stirred the social fabric of 
 the th to its foundations. The regiment had 
 been stationed for some years at Russell, a big 
 post on the Union Pacific, but the department 
 commander decided that he wanted Atherton 
 and his seasoned campaigners closer to the 
 malcontents, and, to the unspeakable not 
 speechless indignation of nine-tenths of the 
 ladies in the th and the financial, though un- 
 confessed, comfort of many of their lords, the 
 order was issued that it should not return to 
 Russell, but direct its retrograde march on the 
 7 97 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 older, smaller, but just now rather more im 
 portant post of Fort Ransom. 
 
 Squeeze into quarters as best you can, 
 said the general, cheerfully, "and you won t 
 mind crowding this winter. We ll fit you out 
 better in the spring. 
 
 Now, the winter was the time they most ob 
 jected to being crowded, for then they had 
 their friends from the East and their social 
 pleasures, did these dames and damsels of the 
 army, while in summer the troops were almost 
 always afield, and the women, those who could 
 afford it, went East. Few had done so this 
 year, because the regiment was not sent out for 
 summer camp, and when the Sharp-Knife 
 chase was ordered it was too late in the season. 
 
 So the two battalions, then so called, marched 
 into Ransom. Then, so many at a time, the 
 officers were allowed to go to Russell to super 
 vise the packing and shipment of their house 
 hold goods, while the quartermaster and other 
 sergeants did as much for the companies. 
 Mrs. Atherton, with her lares and penates, was 
 there at Butte to welcome the regiment when 
 it arrived. Mrs. Mainwaring, with her fair 
 niece, Miss Leroy, was to have been there, 
 but, as we have seen, became involved in a 
 collision in the mountain division. The major 
 hurried eastward to meet his helpmate at Paw 
 nee, and there got full details of the crash, 
 and sought among the passengers for the young 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 man in the ulster and travelling-cap who had 
 been so helpful in time of need, but he had 
 disappeared, said the conductor who took Mr. 
 Jarvis s load. The last seen of him he was 
 taking dinner at Ford s restaurant with a couple 
 of cowboys and a dilapidated party who had 
 been fellow-passengers with him on No. 3 at 
 the time of the wreck. Then the cowboys had 
 gone one way and the young man another. 
 Sergeant Kearney, who under Lieutenant Raw- 
 son was in charge of the recruits, said, begging 
 the new major s pardon, that the conductor and 
 engineer of No. 3 were sure there was something 
 queer about that party. It was believed they 
 were all connected with a gang of train-rob 
 bers. Whereat the major scoffed until Raw- 
 son came up and corroborated what Kearney 
 had said, and was presented by the major to 
 his wife and Miss Leroy, who were not over- 
 cordial. Women learn so much more about 
 their fellow-passengers in the course of a few 
 hours than do men. Then the major, in his 
 happy way, went on to chaff the wife of his 
 bosom upon her having nearly captured a 
 train-robber, and then Miss Leroy spoke her 
 mind. She didn t believe a word of it. 
 
 At Butte, where they arrived late at night, 
 while the major was bustling about after the 
 ambulance and baggage- wagons, Mrs. Main- 
 waring, sitting at an open window and gazing 
 out at the flitting lights on the platform and 
 99 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 awaiting the summons to leave the car, was 
 suddenly attracted by the sight of a little de 
 tachment of recruits marching by. The young 
 lady, too, was at a near window, and the ser 
 geant, catching a glimpse of her face, remem 
 bered the conversation he had heard at Pawnee 
 and her prompt defence of the absent, and he 
 had felt ill at ease and shame-stricken ever 
 since. What right had he to brand a man as 
 a criminal on the mere suspicion of some rail 
 way employees? The young lady s spirited 
 stand in defence of the defamed had aston 
 ished the major and delighted Kearney. A 
 sudden thought struck the honest trooper, as 
 he was marching by, and, springing quickly to 
 the side of the car, he held up to the window 
 the handsome silver-topped flask. "I beg 
 pardon," said he, "but this belongs to that 
 young gentleman. I was to have given it to 
 him, but I ve got to return to St. Louis to the 
 recruiting depot, and he s stopped back there 
 about Pawnee. He never came on this train 
 at all, but he declared he was coming up to 
 Fort Ransom later. Would you please give it 
 to him, miss ? 
 
 And, before she knew what to say, the ser 
 geant was gone, and there she sat with the 
 stranger s flask in her gloved hand, the 
 stranger whom she could have sworn she saw 
 at Bonn and Cologne not four months before, 
 who thought it might have been his brother, 
 
 100 
 
RAY 
 
 who wouldn t give his name/ but who had for 
 gotten the handkerchief with which he had 
 stanched the flow of blood from her temple, 
 an unsightly relic at the moment, to be sure, 
 but safely stowed in her little satchel for all 
 that, and already searched, and not vainly, for 
 a trace of ownership. Bathed in her own 
 blood were the letters D. H. G. 
 
 And what on earth she was to do with that 
 handsome flask and that once more presenta 
 ble handkerchief was a problem that confronted 
 Miss Leroy two weeks later, after she had be 
 gun to feel reasonably at home at Ransom. It 
 was the queerest phase of life that ever she had 
 encountered. City-bred, convent-educated, she 
 found frontier ways at an army post as full of 
 novelty and sensation as her first explorations 
 in foreign parts. For two or three days they 
 had lived at the hotel in Butte until the major 
 reported the carpets down and the stoves up. 
 The next two or three were devoted to unpack 
 ing furniture, pictures, glass, and crockery, 
 and putting everything where it belonged and 
 much where it didn t. It seemed to make 
 little difference, for in all these functions, at all 
 hours of the day, and not a few of the night, 
 the young officers, in shirt-sleeves and the best 
 of spirits, bore willing part. Such gay good 
 humor, such utter lack of stiffness and con 
 ventionality, she had never seen. All drills 
 and duties, it seemed, except the necessary 
 101 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 guard, police, and stables, were suspended 
 until officers and men were comfortably housed 
 and settled down. The bachelor lieutenants 
 pitched tents on the parade and placidly 
 awaited their turn to choose quarters, a cere 
 mony which impressed Miss Leroy as some 
 thing incomprehensible. It was not easy to 
 make her realize just why Captain Ray couldn t 
 move Mrs. Ray and the baby boys up from the 
 hotel until Captain Freeman had chosen, and 
 why Mrs. Blake should remain at Cheyenne 
 near her own old home until the Truscotts and 
 Rays had settled on what houses they would 
 take. (They wanted the big double brick next 
 but one to the colonel s, but were afraid to 
 move in, lest the new surgeon ordered out from 
 Omaha should take a fancy to that very set.) 
 It was all plain sailing, as she could see, for the 
 colonel, the two majors, and the two senior 
 captains, but then came the tug of war. The 
 Greggs had moved into No. 5, confident the 
 doctor would prefer the other side of the gar 
 rison, the very house the Truscotts and Rays 
 thought to occupy together, but the doctor 
 came, saw, and concluded that the house he 
 and Mrs. Doctor wanted was No. 5 and no 
 other, whereat Mrs. Gregg was furious, and the 
 captain philosophic. " I told you so, M riar," 
 he was unfeeling enough to say a dozen times 
 a day, until she flew to the Stannards for sym 
 pathy. It seemed to Miss Leroy that whether 
 102 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 these families got settled or not the feuds never 
 would be ; and yet in less than ten days even 
 the young married couples were snugly stowed 
 away. Smiles and sunshine met her on every 
 side. The men, who looked like hairy mon 
 sters at first, had shaved their beards and 
 donned their neatly fitting uniforms. The 
 band played every afternoon. Parades were 
 fine, guard-mounting "lovely." The little 
 dinners and suppers and dances were just as 
 jolly, friendly, and delightful as could possibly 
 be. Many of the young matrons were charm 
 ing companions. Several of the young officers 
 danced divinely, all of them rode well, and 
 none of them thought anything of coming 
 banging at the hall door any hour of the day 
 to ask Mrs. Mainwaring to come and do this or 
 Miss Leroy to come and see that. The ladies 
 ran in and out from house to house as though 
 it were one big family, and before the loth of 
 November came Miss Leroy found herself com 
 pletely carried away by the life and swing and 
 movement that seemed to characterize every 
 thing that went on in the old regiment. She 
 was on the pleasantest of terms with Mesdames 
 Ray, Truscott, and Blake. She found her aunt 
 tireless as a hostess. She admired the colonel 
 and his accomplished wife. She took to 
 Mrs. Stannard from the start, and wondered 
 why Mrs. Mainwaring didn t enthuse over her 
 as everybody else did. She liked bluff old 
 103 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Stannard and most of the officers thoroughly, 
 and so, blithe, busy, f on the go, as they 
 said, from morn till late at night, she had well- 
 nigh ceased to think of the shock she had sus 
 tained on the night of the collision or to spec 
 ulate about the tall young gentleman who had 
 restored her to consciousness and to whom she 
 had not restored the handkerchief and flask, 
 when the loth of November came, and with it 
 her birthday, a new sensation, and an excite 
 ment at the fort. 
 
 The recruits brought to Ransom by Lieuten 
 ant Rawson were for distribution to those troops 
 of the regiment most in need of new blood, 
 and, as luck would have it, these were all of 
 the battalion at Fort Fred Winthrop, an out 
 lying post close to the now crowded reservation 
 of the Sioux. Thither had Atherton ordered 
 Rawson without delay of a day, partly because 
 recruits were needed, but mainly because the 
 lieutenant showed symptoms of an oncoming 
 attack of a bibulous character, and Atherton 
 would have none of that in his garrison. 
 Rawson was ordered northward forthwith, and 
 marched with his Johnny Raws at dawn next 
 day, and, except for the voice of one crying in 
 the wilderness that the party had looted the 
 groggery of Laramie Pete at the Dry Fork of 
 the Ska, nothing more was heard of them till 
 they joined at Winthrop, none the worse for 
 their wintry march. Ray had looked over the 
 104 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 array and decided that he could afford to wait 
 and pick for himself. Sergeant Kearney had 
 gone back to the recruiting depot. The regi 
 mental adjutant had been designated as re 
 cruiting officer at the station, and had disdain 
 fully rejected, one after another, half a dozen 
 seedy-looking tramps, when one day, perhaps 
 the fifth after their arrival at the post, the ser 
 geant-major put his handsome head into the 
 office, followed it in, carefully shut the door 
 behind him, stood scrupulously at attention, 
 and hemmed behind his hand to attract his 
 superior s notice. 
 
 Mr. Dana looked up from the tangled mass 
 of figures at the foot of his regimental return, 
 laid down his pen, and said, " Well ?" 
 
 " Will the adjutant see a man that wants to 
 enlist?" 
 
 " Not if he s like the lot that have been here 
 so far." 
 
 "He isn t, sir, but I don t know about 
 him." 
 
 "What s the matter? I haven t time to 
 waste if he isn t good enough to suit us." And 
 Dana glanced out along the wooden porch as 
 though in search of the would-be trooper. 
 
 " He s good enough, I don t doubt, sir," 
 said the sergeant-major, a half-smile breaking 
 about the corners of his mouth, "as far as 
 looks go ; but I never knew fellows like this 
 one to enlist that didn t have something wrong 
 105 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 with em, and he says he wants to take on 
 with Captain Ray." 
 
 " He ll take on where we see fit to put him," 
 said Dana, with the dogmatism of the service. 
 Let s see the gentleman who wants to dic 
 tate where he ll go." 
 
 So the sergeant-major opened the door, 
 jerked his head backward in encouragement 
 to the invisible party in the outer office, and 
 said, " Come in." 
 
 There stepped quickly into the room a young 
 man about six feet tall, erect, and athletic in 
 build and carriage, with a fine, clear-cut, frank 
 face, crowned with a crop of curly, close-cut, 
 light brown hair, with very deep blue eyes, 
 large and clear, under heavy brows, and thick, 
 long, curling lashes, a curly blond moustache 
 sweeping out at the ends and barely hiding the 
 curve of his handsomely chiselled lips, chin 
 and jaws cleanly shaved, throat powerful, open 
 and bare, for the rolling collar of a brand-new 
 blue flannel shirt was confined only by a 
 loosely knotted tie of silk. The coat he wore 
 was a sort of double-breasted pea-jacket of 
 dark blue beaver, now thrown open in defer 
 ence to the warmth of the room, but the first 
 significant, if not suspicious, thing the young 
 man did as he entered was to begin buttoning 
 it throughout. Snugly fitting trousers of dark 
 blue, belted at the waist, stout, slender, well- 
 made shoes, and a soft black crush hat com- 
 106 
 
For a moment no one spoke. 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 pleted his attire. As Dana looked at him in 
 some surprise, the new-comer brought his heels 
 together, and between him and the foremost 
 non-commissioned officer in the th the ex 
 pert eye could hardly have told which was the 
 more soldierly in build and carriage. 
 
 For a moment no one spoke. It was Dana 
 who finally broke silence. 
 
 "Why you ve served before." 
 
 " Only in a militia regiment, sir." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "In New York City. 
 
 The adjutant had a dozen more questions on 
 the tip of his tongue, and the visitor saw it. 
 
 I have answered that, sir, because I pre 
 sume I have to account for standing attention, 
 but there are many questions that may occur to 
 you that I do not wish to answer. If I may 
 speak with Captain Ray I think I can satisfy 
 him without going into particulars." 
 
 Dana whipped his wooden chair around and 
 squarely confronted the speaker. That he was 
 a man of education and social position in the 
 past, at least, Dana saw at a glance, and just 
 as quickly did the companion thought flash 
 across his mind, Another case of the prodi 
 gal son." Incredulity as to the motives of a 
 man in enlisting in those days was not confined 
 to the rank and file. 
 
 Captain Ray may or may not be satisfied, 
 but in either event, as recruiting officer of the 
 107 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 regiment, I have to be," said the young officer, 
 with a touch of asperity in his tone. It was 
 not good to his ears to be told that a would-be 
 recruit declined to answer questions. 
 
 The new-comer, far from looking discon 
 certed, smiled affably and frankly. His blue 
 eyes twinkled, his white teeth gleamed. The 
 best-looking scapegrace that ever came to us. 
 Confound his impudence for grinning," said 
 Dana to himself. 
 
 That is why I wish to speak with Captain 
 Ray, sir," said the civilian. "He might be 
 able to satisfy you when I, probably, could 
 not.* 
 
 " I don t know how you make that out," 
 said Dana, curiosity betraying him into a half- 
 argument with the applicant, which Dana very 
 well knew was infra dig. 
 
 " Possibly Captain Ray will explain it," was 
 the answer, and the serenity of the applicant 
 remained unruffled. 
 
 "Oh, very well," said Dana, nettled in spite 
 of his better nature. * Go see Captain Ray if 
 you wish." 
 
 But even as he spoke the hall door opened 
 and in burst Major Mainwaring. There is no 
 other way of describing the major s method of 
 entering a room. It has been said that he was 
 blunt both in speech and in action. A soldier 
 for years of his life, no amount of domestic 
 polish had ever succeeded in smoothing off the 
 108 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 rough edges of the camp. Mainwaring prided 
 himself on being direct in everything he said 
 and did. Men and women who knew him well 
 knew there was a mine of genuine kindness 
 and goodness under the rugged surface. Men 
 and women who heard him speak for the first 
 time declared him a brute. 
 
 "What you got here ?" blurted Mainwaring, 
 glaring at the sergeant-major and his silent 
 companion. 
 
 Man wants to enlist, sir, was the reply. 
 
 Now, Mainwaring was not the recruiting offi 
 cer of the regiment. He was in no wise re 
 sponsible for their selection. He had been 
 but a few months a member of the regiment 
 himself, having, as has been explained, been 
 promoted to it from another when Major Barry 
 became lieutenant-colonel ; but it was a pe 
 culiarity of Mainwaring s that he considered it 
 his inalienable right to have a say in every 
 thing going on, and it wasn t so much what he 
 said as how he said it that made it obnoxious. 
 He scowled at the very presentable new-comer 
 as though words were inadequate to express his 
 disapprobation, then gruffly demanded, 
 
 " Where you from ? * 
 
 A flush went up to the forehead of the young 
 man, and there was an instant s hesitation ; 
 then in a very quiet tone he replied, The 
 East." 
 
 Major Mainwaring was studying him sharply, 
 109 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 a suspicious light in his black eyes. " Haven t 
 I seen you before ?" he presently asked, the 
 words tumbling all over one another s heels. 
 
 * Not out here, certainly, was the tempered 
 reply, though the blue eyes were firing up and 
 looking squarely into the kindling black. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me you haven t been 
 in service before?" The major s precipitate 
 style of questioning left barely time for answer. 
 
 But the civilian took his time and chose his 
 words. " I do not mean to tell you anything, 
 sir. * 
 
 For a moment Mainwaring simply glared as 
 though he could not realize the full significance 
 of the words. 
 
 What in thunder do you mean by that ? 
 he finally growled. 
 
 "Just what I have said, sir," was the reply. 
 "Five minutes ago I wished to enlist in this 
 regiment ; now I don t ; good-day to you, gen 
 tlemen." And, to the speechless amaze of 
 the sergeant-major, the suppressed delight of 
 Dana, and the profane astonishment of Main- 
 waring, he calmly walked past the two officers, 
 replacing his hat as he did so, stalked deliber 
 ately into the hall-way and out of the front 
 door. 
 
 Well, of all the chip-on-the-shoulder speci 
 mens I ever saw," loudly laughed Mainwaring, 
 " that fellow beats the lot. What do you s pose 
 fired him off so ? I hadn t begun to say any- 
 no 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 thing to him. The man s a dash-dashed 
 double-dashed liar, and I know it. I ve seen 
 him somewhere before, and he knows it, and 
 he s afraid to show up again, and took the first 
 excuse to get off. That man s a dash-dashed 
 deserter, or a horse-thief, or something. He 
 knows me, and didn t know of my promotion 
 to this regiment or my being here. You are 
 well rid of him, Dana. He ll never show up 
 at Ransom again." 
 
 But he did, for just two days later Captain 
 Ray came cheerily into the office with enlist 
 ment papers in his hand. "Dana, old boy, 
 I ve got a tip-top man to be sworn in. This 
 way, please, Hunter." And there at the door 
 way stood the applicant of two days before. 
 
 Dana glanced over the papers. "Arthur 
 Hunter, born New York, by occupation a clerk, 
 do hereby acknowledge to have voluntarily en 
 listed this sixth day of November, 188-, as a 
 soldier in the army of the United States, etc., 
 etc., and do solemnly swear that I am twenty- 
 five years and seven months of age, etc., etc., 
 and I, Arthur Hunter, do solemnly swear that 
 I will bear true faith and allegiance to the 
 United States of America, etc., etc." 
 
 Then Dana looked up at the dark eyes and 
 curling black moustache and animated face of 
 one of the crack captains in the regiment, and 
 from him to the silent, blue-eyed, and, as be 
 fore, thoroughly presentable stranger, and there 
 in 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 was embarrassment in the adjutant s face. For 
 a moment he hesitated, then turned to the 
 would-be recruit. 
 
 * Will you step outside a moment ? I have 
 to speak with Captain Ray. 
 
 He was instantly obeyed. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, captain," said Dana, 
 "but I have to ask a question or two. Major 
 Mainwaring is sure he has seen this man before, 
 and that he is a deserter or something disrepu 
 table despite his good looks. He refused to 
 answer for himself two days ago." 
 
 "Yes, I know," answered Ray, smilingly. 
 "We all know how suave and encouraging the 
 major is apt to be to strangers. It s a wonder 
 some wild Westerner hasn t put a bullet through 
 him. I ve heard all about that interview." 
 
 * And you re willing to take chances ? 
 You re satisfied this man s all right?" 
 
 " All right as men go, Dana. We can t ex 
 pect all the vartues and timperance besides for 
 thirteen dollars a month, as Mulligan said in the 
 Mexican war. But this applicant satisfies me 
 that he means to serve, that he loves a horse, 
 and can ride like a Kentuckian. I ll bet he 
 can fight, and it s none of our business who he is, 
 where he hails from, or why he enlisted, so 
 long as he does his duty. Now I m willing to 
 take him." 
 
 And that settled it. Recruit Arthur Hunter 
 was formally accepted as a member of the 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 sorrel troop, took his first lesson with the curry 
 comb and brush without a word, and, without 
 turning a hair," his initiation on Buckler, the 
 meanest brute in the stable, and rode him bare 
 backed to water despite furious plunges and 
 wild howls of delight from threescore trooper 
 throats. Furthermore, Hunter accepted bar 
 rack fare without remark and barrack chaff 
 without remonstrance, and when forty-eight 
 hours elapsed and his captain asked him how 
 he liked it, the new trooper clicked his heels 
 together and said, Better than I hoped to, sir, * 
 and then surprised that officer by a request to 
 be allowed to be absent until next day. Eti 
 quette required that such favors should be asked 
 through the first sergeant in writing. The 
 colonel s consent had also to be given, but 
 Hunter produced in explanation a telegram re 
 ceived but half an hour before stables. That 
 despatch was addressed properly to Trooper 
 A. Hunter, Fort Ransom, and said, "Must 
 move to-night. Will bring your things on 
 No. 3," and it came from Pawnee. 
 
 Captain Ray looked it over in some uncer 
 tainty. "What things are these ?" he asked. 
 
 "A trunk, sir, and some other property, 
 principally clothing." 
 
 Colonel Atherton did not look over-pleased at 
 the application of Captain Ray for permission 
 for a new recruit to be absent over-night, but 
 Ray was a favorite. Sergeant Merriweather 
 
 8 113 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 was going to Butte on pass after supper ; Recruit 
 Hunter could go with him in the post-trader s 
 wagon. Ray felt sure of his man, and the 
 colonel consented. 
 
 And so it happened that Merri weather s pretty 
 wife, the invalid of a fortnight agone, was sur 
 prised by the sight of a tall, very fine-looking 
 young man, in a new fatigue suit not yet altered 
 to fit him, who appeared at the door-way of her 
 little abode shortly after gun-fire and asked for 
 the sergeant. 
 
 "He ll be here directly. Surely this must 
 be Mr. Hunter," said she, dusting a chair and 
 looking up at him from under her long lashes. 
 "You ll come in and wait, won t you?" she 
 added, invitingly. But Hunter thanked her 
 briefly and said he d go to the store, which he 
 did, with her bright eyes following him in lively 
 curiosity. 
 
 It was midnight when Sergeant Merriweather, 
 driving in, reported his return at the guard 
 house and found the officer of the day and 
 half the guard searching busily about the prem 
 ises in hopes of discovering by what means two 
 general prisoners had sawed their way out of 
 their iron-barred room. The rest of the guard 
 were in pursuit. It was a night of excitement 
 and disgust for most of them, and they were 
 all wide awake and eager for news when, at the 
 break of day, there came galloping out from 
 Butte the local agent of the Transcontinental, 
 114 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 with a startling story. Train No. 3, " The 
 Owl, the Pacific express, had been held up by 
 robbers about an hour earlier, just east of Ska 
 Bridge. Jimmy Long, engineer of 783, was 
 badly shot. His fireman was killed. The rob 
 bers, nearly a dozen in number, had terrorized 
 the train-hands, got everything there was in the 
 safe, in the mail-car, and among the passengers 
 in the day-coach and sleeper, and had then rid 
 den off northwestward across the Ska. They 
 were heading for the Dry Fork. The sheriff was 
 trying to raise a posse in town, but it was slow 
 work. For God s sake, couldn t the cavalry 
 go in pursuit ? 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TERRITORIAL governor is not an awe- 
 *=- inspiring official ordinarily, but the gov 
 ernor of Wyoming, relieved of his val 
 uables at the point of the pistol, was not slow 
 in seeking redress* From Butte he wired full 
 particulars of the robbery to the department 
 commander, who was at Pawnee, just back 
 from an inspection of the Sioux agencies, fifty 
 miles to the north. The general was waiting 
 for the East-bound train at the depot hotel, was 
 aroused in an instant, and lost no time in wiring 
 authority to Colonel Atherton to use any means 
 in his power to head off and capture the robbers, 
 without waiting for civil process. The news of 
 the " hold-up" with its attendant casualties went 
 buzzing over the post at reveille, and barely 
 had the story reached Atherton as he stood 
 under the flag-staff, receiving the reports of the 
 troop commanders, when out came the telegraph 
 operator, racing, and the colonel read the hur 
 riedly penned lines and turned to Ray. Some 
 how or other, whenever any swift, hard riding 
 had to be done, Ray and Ray s troop were the 
 first fellows thought of. 
 
 "Let your men finish breakfast," said the 
 116 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 colonel, "then do your best." And he 
 handed the dark-eyed Kentuckian the de 
 spatch. 
 
 In an hour from that time, Mrs. Ray, hold 
 ing her baby boy in her arms, was gazing from 
 the north window of her army home at some 
 black specks on the far horizon, and little 
 Sandy, tugging at the skirts of her pretty 
 morning wrapper, was coaxing for mother to 
 hold him up too. The sorrel troop were up 
 and away, heading for Wheelan Springs, on 
 the Laramie trail, and bets were even between 
 Stannard and Mainwaring that " Ray would 
 nab the outfit before sundown." 
 
 But who could that " outfit" be ? Jim Long 
 said all were masked and he recognized none. 
 Scut, his fireman, died without a sign. Parks, 
 the expressman, declared every form unfamiliar. 
 Jarvis, the conductor, and Ryan, a brakeman, 
 alone could furnish anything like a clue. Two 
 of the desperadoes were dressed like two cow 
 boys they had had aboard the night of the col 
 lision, a fortnight back, and the leader, who 
 was tall, slender, well dressed, with the voice 
 and intonation of a man of education and 
 social position, closely resembled in build a 
 passenger who boarded the sleeper that night 
 at the Junction and left it after the accident and 
 went to Pawnee. The division superintendent 
 wired to Omaha such particulars as he could 
 give. The legal representative and certain 
 117 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 detectives of the road were ordered to leave for 
 the scene by first train. The sheriff at Butte 
 had a good-sized posse in readiness by break 
 fast-time, and then started valiantly on the 
 trail of Ray s troop, passing through Fort Ran 
 som about the time that Mr. Dana was mount 
 ing guard. Other sheriff s officials went out to 
 Minden with the division superintendent, and 
 others still pushed on to Pawnee, up on the 
 broad plateau, to inquire for two cowboys, a 
 tramp, and a swell, all of whom had appeared 
 there in company, just after the smash-up at 
 Alkali Flats, none of whom were there now, 
 but one of whom, the tramp, so called, looking 
 so entirely a different man with trimmed hair 
 and beard and good clothes as to have been 
 unrecognizable had he not rashly given himself 
 away to everybody by bragging about his exploits 
 the night of the smash-up, that tramp had 
 boarded No. 3 at three thirty A.M. at Pawnee, 
 with a ticket for Sweetwater, but, so it trans 
 pired, had checked his trunk only as far as 
 Butte. All this by rapid telegraphing to and fro 
 was developed before the posse started on its 
 way, but not until after the despoiled train had 
 changed engines at Butte, and then, according 
 to the inexorable rules of the railway, had gone 
 on again. Jarvis remembered that a very 
 decent, quiet fellow boarded the forward pas 
 senger coach at Pawnee with a ticket for Sweet- 
 water, but he did not connect him with the 
 118 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 tramp so lavishly provided for by the " swell * 
 the night of the collision. But, now they spoke 
 of it, they were about the same size and build, 
 and what made it significant, that fellow 
 seemed to have disappeared when the robbers 
 jumped aboard and went through the passen 
 gers, nor did he appear again until just as the 
 train pulled out for Butte, after the robbers 
 were gone. Wiring west after the rushing 
 train speedily brought this answer : " No party 
 with ticket from Pawnee to Sweetwater aboard. 1 
 And as he had been seen and talked with, and 
 listened to, up to the moment of the arrival of 
 No. 3 at Butte, Jarvis declared the man must 
 be somewhere about the town at this mo 
 ment, and Butte s few policemen were put in 
 search. 
 
 All they discovered by noon was that such a 
 party had been seen talking excitedly with a 
 tall stranger in heavy overcoat and cap near 
 the baggage-room just after the train came in. 
 The baggage-man said that the man who pre 
 sented check for the trunk from Pawnee was 
 tall, slender, and dressed in rough, heavy coat 
 and travelling-cap. The trunk was sole- 
 leather. It had a lot of foreign stamps, hotel 
 posters, and railway-luggage slips all over it, 
 but the baggage-master had no time to exam 
 ine it. Two men had carried the trunk away 
 between them, declining the offers of the bag 
 gage-man. Somebody remembered such a 
 119 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 trunk being wheeled in a barrow up Hoyt 
 Street just after No. 3 came in, two men with 
 it, a tall and a short, and that was all. 
 
 Recruit Hunter s pass was up at noon, and 
 at eleven thirty he jumped from a light wagon 
 at the south gate, and was hailed by the cor 
 poral of the guard as he was striding briskly 
 towards his troop quarters : 
 
 " Say, young feller, come back here." 
 
 The tall recruit halted, turned and looked 
 around, irresolute. It might be authoritative, 
 it might be mere practical joke ; at all events 
 the corporal was responsible, and the soldier 
 walked straight to where the non-commissioned 
 officer was seated on a bench, near the hall 
 door of the guard-house. 
 
 " Where you been ? * 
 
 " To town on pass," was the calm answer. 
 
 " What did you hear about that hold-up ?" 
 
 "Nothing of consequence." 
 
 " Well, your troop s gone thief-catching, and 
 you* re to report to Sergeant Merriweather as 
 soon as you come in. Now you ve come in, 
 . you haven t any cigars or drinkables about you, 
 have you ? This is the custom-house if you 
 have." 
 
 Hunter looked neither annoyed nor discon 
 certed. Taking two or three cigars from his 
 overcoat-pocket, he said, " Catch," tossed them 
 carelessly to the vigilant wearer of the chevrons, 
 hastened to barracks, deposited his bundles on 
 120 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 the bed assigned him, and looked up and down 
 the now silent and almost deserted building in 
 search of some one to tell him what had taken 
 place. Two men, one laid up from the kick 
 of a horse, the other with an arm in a sling, 
 came down to investigate the contents of his 
 bundles, but were disarmed of hostile intent 
 by his easy good nature and prompt offer of 
 cigars. Whiskey he had none. Asking for 
 Merri weather, he was told to look for him at 
 his quarters. 
 
 " Catch him out of watching distance -of the 
 little woman," said one of them, with a grin. 
 "Mind your eye, Hunter; she ll be making 
 up to you next," said the other, "and we 
 don t want you to be found with your head 
 in the horse-pond, like Pat Shea ;" and then it 
 transpired that Trooper Shea had been a de 
 voted admirer of pretty Mrs. Merriweather 
 while she was still housemaid at the Freemans , 
 and that Pat s devotions were equally divided 
 between her and Muldoon s saloon until one 
 winter s morning he was dragged by the legs 
 from his icy winding-sheet with a dreadful gash 
 in his throat and the neck of a bottle still 
 grasped in his frozen hand. Hunter obeyed 
 his orders and went, and Mrs. Merriweather 
 saw him coming, and ran to her glass before 
 she answered the sharp knock at the door. 
 
 "Why, it s Mr. Hunter," she said. "Sure 
 I knew the step before I saw you. Come in, 
 
 121 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Mr. Hunter. The sergeant s gone to the com 
 missary, and I expect him back every minute." 
 
 But the trooper s blue eyes glanced only in 
 differently into the coquettish and smiling face. 
 
 "I was directed here," he said, "to report 
 to Sergeant Merriweather, but I ll go on down 
 to the stables and stop on my return. Thank 
 you, no," he continued, with cold courtesy, as 
 she again urged that he should enter, and 
 strode away stablewards with more than one 
 pair of eyes from the laundresses quarters 
 gazing after him, those of Mrs. Merriweather 
 being clouded and perplexed. 
 
 It had been a perfect morning, keen and 
 frosty at guard-mount, but warmer as the sun 
 wheeled high towards the zenith, and Atherton 
 had had the regiment out for drill. The broad 
 prairie northeast of the post was alive with 
 prancing, high-mettled steeds, with dashing 
 riders, and not a few carriages and Concord 
 wagons filled with ladies of the post, all re 
 joicing at having the regiment once more at 
 home. For nearly two hours Atherton had 
 had the seven troops in rapid movement here 
 and there and everywhere over the plain, and 
 now, the drill over, troop after troop came 
 marching sedately and quietly homeward to 
 cool and calm the horses before reaching sta 
 bles. In full ranks, fifty men at least to each 
 company, in their trim-fitting fatigue dress, and 
 with the silken swallow-tail waving at the head 
 
 122 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 of each little column, they looked wonderfully 
 business-like and serviceable. The easy, prac 
 tised seat of every man, the nonchalant grace 
 of every pose, the resolute, dust-covered, some 
 times devil-may-care faces, all seemed thor 
 oughly in keeping with the scene and surround 
 ings, thoroughly in accord with the buoyant 
 action of the mettlesome mounts. Accustomed 
 from boyhood to the best of horse-flesh, a 
 born rider and judge, Trooper Hunter could 
 not but see that though these frontier steeds 
 might lack the dainty trappings and satin coats 
 of the park and avenues of Gotham, there was 
 life and spirit, fire and endurance, in almost 
 every one in each of the seven columns. 
 Standing by the northward gate, he keenly 
 studied each troop as it came jogging briskly 
 in. The colonel and the major, the adjutant 
 and certain other officers, seemed to have 
 grouped about the carriages of the ladies at 
 the edge of the drill-ground, but at least one 
 officer rode with every troop, the best oppor 
 tunity the new-comer yet had enjoyed of study 
 ing these future comrades with whom he might 
 never expect to exchange a word or meet with 
 more than the formal and punctilious touch of 
 the hand to cap. They were moving at ease 
 now until each troop in succession might cross 
 the sentry-post and be called to attention in 
 recognition of the salute of its solitary occu 
 pant. Hunter watched the man as he halted, 
 123 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 faced outward as the nearest troop drew nigh, 
 then snapped his carbine to the present as the 
 head of the column turned to enter the gate, 
 and Captain Gregg whipped out his sabre, 
 gave voice over his shoulder to the prolonged 
 " Tensh-o-o-on" which brought every man s 
 head and eyes up and to the front, and then, 
 looking square at the sentry, lowered the glit 
 tering blade in acknowledgment of the honor 
 paid to himself and his command. Hunter s 
 eyes kindled at the sight. No matter how 
 humble the private soldier, there at least, on 
 post as sentry, he could expect the recognition 
 of the President himself, than whom in the 
 eyes of the th there lived no grander poten 
 tate on earth. Then, the next thing Hunter 
 knew, the troop came tripping by the line of 
 picket-fence on which he leaned, gazing out 
 upon the spirited scene beyond ; and now it 
 was his turn. The teachings of the old days 
 in the famous regiment, wherein every man 
 might be said to have worn kid gloves when 
 not on military duty, were fresh in his mind, 
 as he had been well schooled in the first prin 
 ciples of soldier duty. Yet Hunter felt the 
 blood was mounting to his temples and his 
 heart was beating quicker as he faced the 
 coming column, braced his heels together, and 
 raised his hand to the cap visor, as Captain 
 Gregg came ambling by. The big troop-leader 
 glanced curiously at the lonely figure in the 
 124 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 cheap fatigue dress, and again, but with far 
 less precision, returned the salute, and Hunter 
 could not but note the difference. Before an 
 other troop could pass him by he moved quickly 
 away, twenty yards or more beyond the gate, 
 where he still could have a good look at the re 
 turning soldiery, but was himself beyond sa 
 luting distance. One after another of the seven 
 separate compact little columns of fours marched 
 steadily in, and jogged on down the gentle slope 
 towards the huge wooden stables. He was still 
 gazing in some odd fascination after the last, 
 the roan troop, when the sound of bounding 
 hoofs, whirring wheels, and gay laughter re 
 called his wandering thoughts, and, turning 
 sharply to the prairie once more, his eyes 
 fell upon the foremost of the rapidly nearing 
 carriages. 
 
 It was a light, open phaeton, drawn by two 
 spirited bays, whose fine action and well-made 
 harness won his instant approval. Beside the 
 carriage trotted the stocky, burly major whom 
 he so well remembered the day of his first in 
 terview with Dana in the office. On the other 
 side rode Dana himself, a handsome young 
 soldier, and, far more interested in them than 
 in the possible occupants of the vehicle, Hun 
 ter was looking upon them with a soldier s eye, 
 keenly appreciative of Dana s graceful, easy 
 seat and of Mainwaring s good, if bulky, horse 
 manship, when he suddenly became aware of 
 125 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 the fact that instead of turning in at the gate 
 the driver was heading straight southward, evi 
 dently intending to drive around to the main 
 gate instead of passing, as Hunter had come, 
 through that portion of the post best known 
 as " Sudstown." 
 
 Another minute, and they must flash past 
 him, not ten yards away, with only that low 
 picket-fence between them. Already the sentry 
 had halted and presented arms, both officers 
 touching their caps in acknowledgment. Al 
 ready the swift team was darting past the gate. 
 The lady occupants of the stylish vehicle were 
 whisking into view, and, yielding to sudden 
 and uncontrollable impulse, Hunter whirled 
 about, jumped the shallow ditch, and sprang 
 behind the nearest of the little houses devoted 
 to the use of the married soldiers. In that one 
 swift glance at the fair occupants he had seen a 
 face at sight of which the blood went rushing 
 to his own. There, side by side, were Mrs. 
 Mainwaring and the young lady whom he had 
 picked up in his arms the night of that " head- 
 on" collision at Alkali Flats. 
 
 126 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 VfOR STANNARD had won his bet, 
 and Mainwaring was more than usually 
 "grumpy" in consequence. Ray and 
 his men, riding like the wind, had run down 
 the train-robbers before they reached the Dry 
 Fork, and in a long, stern chase had overhauled 
 first one man, then another, until darkness set 
 in and hid the leading fugitives from sight. 
 Seven lively specimens of the border ruffian 
 were the captives of the sorrel troop by night 
 fall, and, closely guarded, these were the men 
 turned over next morning to Mr. Sheriff Con- 
 way when that much fatigued official and his 
 posse reached the spot where Ray and his men 
 had made camp the night before. Ray him 
 self, with a dozen troopers, had pushed on at 
 daybreak, following the trail of the fugitives in 
 hopes of capturing the more prominent mem 
 bers of the party, who, as it turned out, had 
 most of the ill-gotten booty, while his lieutenant, 
 Mr. Scott, remained in charge of the main 
 body and of the prisoners until the arrival of 
 the civil authorities, who promptly demanded 
 and obtained possession. Conway and his 
 posse, rejoicing, turned homeward at once 
 127 
 
RAY S REICRUIT 
 
 with their dishevelled prizes, hoping to reach 
 Butte and receive a triumph by evening of the 
 next day. Seven train-robbers was more than 
 had ever been caught before in the history of 
 the Territory, and great would be the rejoicings. 
 Securely bound, the luckless captives, each 
 man lashed to the stirrup of some one of the 
 numerous posse, trudged painfully along the 
 homeward trail. Silent, resolute, almost de 
 fiant, no one of their number would give the 
 whisper of a hint as to the identity of the 
 leaders or of one another. All were strangers 
 to Butte. Neither Conway nor his deputies 
 had ever seen one of their faces before. Lieu 
 tenant Scott had lost no time in saddling and 
 pushing on after his captain, two of the posse 
 riding with him so as to give the possibly neces 
 sary civil sanction to the arrest of the robbers 
 and to take the customary civil credit for the 
 same, naively explaining, * You fellows in the 
 regular army don t need it ; we do, or there s 
 no chance for Conway s crowd next election." 
 And on his triumphant homeward way, what 
 was more natural than that Conway should 
 march through Ransom the following evening 
 just as the ghost-like column in white stable- 
 frocks came swinging up to barracks through 
 the gloaming ? As the shortest road ran close 
 to the men s quarters, it happened that the burly 
 sheriff, with his captive train, went clattering 
 by the long wooden porches, and such troopers 
 128 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 as happened to be excused from stables pre 
 cious few in Atherton s regiment came rush 
 ing out of quarters to see them. All the com 
 panies had had to * stand to heel and have 
 their stalls inspected before they started up the 
 slope, but in Ray s stable were only a few 
 horses, and the few men under charge of 
 Sergeant Merriweather had already gone to 
 barracks, and were there when Conway came 
 through, and of this few was the new trooper, 
 Hunter. 
 
 Still wearing his white stable-frock, and 
 looking a trifle tired and sombre, the recruit 
 had stopped at the corner of the porch and 
 was gazing with but languid interest at Con- 
 way s motley cavalcade, when Merriweather 
 joined him. "A precious lot of jail-birds, * 
 said the sergeant, as the party came jogging 
 by, sheriff and deputies grinning affably, and 
 many of the latter shouting words of condo 
 lence to the stay-at-homes who hadn t been 
 partakers with them in the glories of the chase 
 and capture. Four prisoners had trudged 
 wearily by, while Trooper Hunter replied 
 briefly but without especial civility to the ser 
 geant s remark. Then came the fifth, whose 
 eyes, haggard and hunted-looking, glanced up 
 just one second at the man in stable-frock at 
 the edge of the porch, and instantly there was 
 a flash of recognition. Sergeant Merriweather, 
 turning to his companion in surprise, saw him 
 9 I2 9 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 gazing after number five with an expression 
 of amazement and dismay upon his handsome 
 face. 
 
 " Then you ve met one of these fellows be 
 fore, have you ? said Merriweather, with in 
 stant suspicion. 
 
 But Hunter answered never a word, and, 
 turning short, plunged into the shadows of the 
 great, gloomy barrack. 
 
 Not for forty-eight hours longer did Captain 
 Ray return, and with him came the two dep 
 uties and one more prisoner. The others, so 
 said the hoof-tracks, had scattered during that 
 first night over the face of the earth, and even 
 the trail soon became indistinct on the hard 
 prairie beyond the Ska ; but enough was known 
 to warrant the statement that two of the num 
 ber had gone towards the agencies away to 
 the northeast, and that their mounts were evi 
 dently blooded stock, far swifter than Ray s, 
 for never once had their leaders been in view, 
 and there was no use in further pursuit. Hud 
 dled in the county jail, the eight malefactors 
 were awaiting the action of the civil authorities 
 and their identification by the railway people 
 while Ray and his returned men shook off the 
 dust of travel and settled down to garrison duty 
 again. The first thing demanded of Sergeant 
 Merriweather was an account of his steward 
 ship and the progress of the new trooper, 
 and Merriweather looked solemn and myste- 
 130 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 rious, and was finally understood to say that 
 he had nothing to complain of in him, but he 
 " reckoned other people might." Whereupon 
 Ray bade him speak out. The Kentuckian 
 could not tolerate insinuation or innuendo in a 
 soldier. And Merriweather told the story of 
 the mutual recognition of Hunter and the un 
 known captive. 
 
 It was the evening of his return to Ransom 
 and just before tattoo, which in those days was 
 always accompanied by a roll-call. 
 
 "See if Hunter is in quarters," said the 
 captain, "and send him to me." And Merri 
 weather hastened on his errand. 
 
 No. The men in barracks said the swell re 
 cruit was out somewhere. " Mabbe he s gone 
 down to pay his respects to Mrs. Merriweather, 
 sergeant," sneered an ill-conditioned fellow, a 
 man no other liked, yet who had served with 
 the old troop over half a dozen years. Merri 
 weather knew it would never do to notice the 
 remark, but it stung him all the same. " Find 
 him, you, and tell him the captain wants him 
 at once," said he to the would-be sneerer, then 
 slammed the door behind him and sprang out 
 into the night. He had not been home for 
 nearly an hour, and he needed, he told him 
 self, a drink ; so thither he went. 
 
 Bright lights were burning in some of the 
 quarters, dim ones in others, but in his own 
 the light seemed lowered to the verge of dark- 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 ness. Not two yards from his door the tall 
 figure of a man in soldier overcoat loomed 
 into view, and, peering closely at him, Merri- 
 weather discovered the recruit. 
 
 " Where you been, Hunter ?" was the sharp, 
 stern demand. 
 
 " Looking for you, sergeant," was the quiet 
 reply. 
 
 "Who sent you?" And there were both 
 anger and suspicion in the tone. 
 
 Oh, no one. I wished to speak with you 
 a moment. I want some advice." 
 
 " There is no need of you coming here, then. 
 You ve seen me a dozen times in the last two 
 days : why didn t you ask it then ?" 
 
 For a moment the younger man was silent ; 
 surprise and disappointment clouded his face. 
 So, too, there crept into it a shade of indigna 
 tion, and it showed plainly in the tone of his 
 reply. 
 
 " I had no need of it then," was the answer, 
 as the younger soldier looked squarely into the 
 eyes of the senior. Then, just as when an 
 gered by the overbearing ways of Major Main- 
 waring, Hunter s high spirit overmastered his 
 resolution to take men and matters as he 
 found them, and his eyes, too, flashed angrily. 
 Whatever thought I had of it ten minutes 
 ago," he said, "is gone now. I won t trouble 
 you." 
 
 And with that he would have gone his way, 
 132 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 but Merri weather, smarting with jealousy and 
 suspicion, threw himself across his path. 
 
 You go no further, young man, till you 
 hear what I ve got to say. This is the third 
 time in less than a week you ve been prowling 
 here around my door. Keep your distance in 
 future. D ye understand ? No man enters 
 that house except on my invitation. Now you 
 go to Captain Ray and tell him I sent you." 
 
 For a moment the tall young soldier stood 
 there, too astonished to make reply. He had 
 heard the men talk of Merri weather as tough 
 on recruits." He had understood that new 
 men must take a great deal of bullying from 
 the elders, that it was purposely done to try 
 their temper and test their sense of subordina 
 tion. Hitherto he had looked upon Merri - 
 weather s asperities as having no personal sig 
 nificance. Now, for the first time, it flashed 
 upon him that he was singled out for harsh, 
 overbearing, and abusive language from a man 
 coarse by nature, mentally, physically, and so 
 cially his inferior. All on a sudden the hot 
 blood boiled in his veins, and, forgetful of his 
 new obligations, reckless of anything but his 
 wrath, Trooper Hunter hit out straight, hard, 
 and well, taking Merriweather squarely between 
 the eyes and knocking him flat. The resound 
 ing thwack of the blow, the heavy crash of 
 the fall, were echoed from the door-way by a 
 woman s startled cry, and the next thing Hun- 
 133 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 ter knew as he stood there still quivering, his 
 fist clinched and ready to dash again at his 
 floored victim, now feebly struggling to his 
 knees, the slender form of the sergeant s wife 
 was bending over the beaten man ; then she 
 threw herself upon her knees beside her pros 
 trate husband. 
 
 " You ve struck him cruel hard," she moaned. 
 " Oh, you shouldn t have minded what he said, 
 Mr. Hunter. He s awful jealous. There, 
 Danny, sit still, sit still," she pleaded, sooth 
 ingly. " Run for a little water, Mr. Hunter ; he s 
 bleeding fearful. Do be still, Danny. Sure 
 the gentleman never set foot inside your door 
 nor spoke a word to me. You re foolish, 
 Danny. She strove to stanch the blood with 
 her handkerchief, but he was slowly regaining 
 his faculties, and thrust her rudely away, and 
 then she saw he was fumbling inside the breast 
 of his coat, and fear gave her strength. Hun 
 ter had taken a dipperful of water from the 
 barrel at the side of the little hut, and was 
 bringing it, dripping, wondering as he came 
 what would be the outcome of this mad impulse, 
 but she met him half-way, seized the dipper, 
 and bade him go. Quick, she panted ; 
 " don t stop an instant now. Get away before 
 he comes to himself, or he ll shoot. Go in 
 stantly, please, Mr. Hunter, or maybe he ll kill 
 me too." 
 
 " I can t go if I ve hurt him. I must help 
 134 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 him up," he began, but she clutched his arm 
 with trembling hands and whirled him about 
 towards the barracks. 
 
 "No, no; leave everything to me. Don t 
 come here till I tell you. Don t you speak of 
 this to a soul, unless you want him to kill me. 
 He ll never harm me now unless he sees you still 
 here ; but not a word of it. I can keep him 
 quiet." Then she pushed him violently from 
 her, just as the sergeant, staggering to his feet, 
 held forth a feeble hand as though seeking 
 support. 
 
 And at that moment, up along the line of 
 barracks, the trumpets began the spirited music 
 of the tattoo. The doors of neighboring cot 
 tages began to open, and soldier forms, envel 
 oped in the long caped overcoats, hastened 
 forth. Irresolute, bewildered, hardly knowing 
 what he did and far from knowing what he 
 ought to do, Trooper Hunter hurried from the 
 spot, breasted the slope to the "bench" on 
 which was spread the garrison proper, and 
 found full two-thirds of his troop already gather 
 ing in front of their quarters awaiting the signal 
 to form ranks, the quick, stirring assembly. 
 
 " Did you see Doyle? He was looking for 
 you, Hunter," chirruped a little Patlander. 
 "You re blowing, man. Where ye running 
 from ? 
 
 But Hunter made no reply. Hooking the 
 collar of his ovprcpat and buttoning it through- 
 135 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 out, he stepped quietly to the point where the 
 centre of his troop usually formed for roll-call, 
 for his place in ranks was close behind a tall 
 corporal who marked the left of the first platoon. 
 The first sergeant, silent and solitary, his swing 
 ing lantern in his hand, stood a few yards away, 
 gazing out across the dim parade at the bright 
 lights in the distant quarters of the officers. 
 The soldierly form of the second lieutenant 
 could be dimly discerned a few yards beyond 
 the sergeant. To the right and left, in front of 
 the other barrack buildings, big black groups of 
 men were gathered and sergeants lights were 
 gleaming, all awaiting the next signal. Sud 
 denly it came, quick, rippling, merry. Fall 
 in,* were the hoarse words growled from half 
 a dozen soldier throats. The groups quickly 
 resolved themselves into two long columns 
 of files that faced to their left the instant the 
 music ceased, and stood motionless while, with 
 the ease and rapidity of daily practice, the ser 
 geant called the roll. 
 
 The non-commissioned head of the sorrel 
 troop twice repeated one name in a question 
 ing, surprised tone, then faced his lieutenant 
 and reported, Sergeant Merriweather absent, 
 sir. The officer acknowledged the salute, said, 
 "Dismiss the troop, "and, facing about, found 
 himself confronting the unexpected apparition 
 of Captain Ray, and heard in the soft dialect 
 of the Blue Grass his captain s words : 
 136 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 "Send Trooper Hunter to me, sergeant, 
 directly you dismiss." 
 
 And while Lieutenant Scott went away to re 
 port the result of roll-call to the adjutant, and 
 the sergeant again faced his company, Hunter 
 felt his heart sink within him. Already Merri- 
 weather, then, had managed to get word to his 
 captain, and the captain was there to wreak 
 vengeance on him, the luckless offender. In 
 violation of the strictest articles of war, he, 
 Hunter Gray, had struck down his superior 
 officer, and was now to suffer the penalty of the 
 law. 
 
 "You hear, Hunter : the captain wants you." 
 Then, Break ranks. March ! was the order, 
 and the troop, cohesive and compact but the 
 moment before, dissolved at the word and fell 
 to pieces, leaving the new member standing all 
 alone. For one moment he remained there to 
 pull himself together, then, nerved to face the 
 worst, strode out to meet his fate, his heart 
 thumping in his breast. 
 
 " Hunter," said the captain, " did I not un 
 derstand you to say that you were a total stran 
 ger west of the Missouri, and that you had 
 neither friends nor enemies out here ? * 
 
 "Yes, sir," was the trooper s reply, his hand 
 still at the cap visor. 
 
 "Then how did you come to know that pris 
 oner in the lot brought in by the sheriff?" 
 
 Hunter was silent. 
 
 137 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 "You admit having seen him before ?" 
 
 "I do, sir." 
 
 "Where and when ?" 
 
 "Before I joined the regiment, sir. I met 
 him with another man at Pawnee." 
 
 Captain Ray was silent a moment. He stood 
 scrutinizing in deep concern the pale, clear-cut 
 face before him. 
 
 "When I vouched for you in the adjutant s 
 office the day of your enlistment, I felt some 
 how that you were a truthful man and not a 
 runagate, and I don t wish to be disappointed 
 in you. I don t want to find a man with a 
 clouded record in my troop. What do you 
 know about that robbery ? 
 
 "Nothing more than everybody else, sir, 
 
 that it took place, and that but here again 
 
 he hesitated. 
 
 "Well, that what, Hunter?" said Captain 
 Ray, noting the soldier s significant pause. 
 
 Nothing more, sir. I met one of the pris 
 oners at Pawnee in a restaurant some few weeks 
 ago. I never saw him before, and I ve never 
 seen him since except that day." 
 
 Ray stood calmly studying his man. I told 
 you it was taking chances to enlist an applicant 
 who looked as though he might have been a 
 man of high social standing," said he, pres 
 ently, " and you looked me in the eye and said 
 I shouldn t regret taking you in my troop. 
 You ve been with me barely a week, and already 
 138 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 you are the object of suspicion. How long 
 will it be before I hear you directly accused of 
 something to make me deeply regret my over- 
 confidence ? 
 
 Hunter started as though to speak, but the 
 words died on his lips. From the direction of the 
 barracks a soldierly step was swiftly approach 
 ing. The turf beneath their feet began to light 
 up with the gleam of a nearing lantern. It was 
 the first sergeant again, and Hunter heard him 
 abruptly halt, true to the formal etiquette of the 
 old cavalry days, and await his captain s signal 
 to approach. 
 
 " Remain here a moment," said Ray to his 
 anxious recruit. " What is it, sergeant?" 
 
 I found Sergeant Merriweather, who was 
 absent from roll-call, at his quarters, sir. 
 
 Ray frowned. Another instance of Merri 
 weather 1 s falling off since his marriage. 
 
 " What excuse had he for his absence ?" was 
 the brief question. 
 
 " Well, sir, his wife says that he had met with 
 a mishap, had a fall in the dark. But it looked 
 to me more like a blow, and he couldn t deny 
 it, sir." 
 
 A blow ? Assaulted ? When, and by 
 whom ? 
 
 Just a few minutes ago, sir. Close to his 
 own door, I think." 
 
 Ray s head went back with a jerk, an odd 
 old trick of his when mentally aroused. " He 
 39 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 must know who did it, unless he was struck 
 from behind. Did you ask him ?" 
 
 "Certainly, sir, and he declares he didn t 
 see, and Mrs. Merriweather declares it was two 
 men, and they ran away towards barracks the 
 moment they downed him." 
 
 For a few seconds the sergeant stood looking 
 at his captain s perplexed face. Then the re 
 cruit suddenly and impulsively stepped forward. 
 Before he could speak, Captain Ray threw up 
 his hand in warning gesture, as though com 
 manding silence. The first sergeant whirled 
 abruptly and stood facing towards the distant 
 south gate. Borne on the night wind came a 
 confused medley of hoarse murmurs, of distant 
 shouts, of rapid-running feet ; then, from far out 
 across the townward stretch of prairie, the muf 
 fled report of fire-arms, one, two, three ; and 
 from the direction of the guard-house a soldier 
 came rushing like a Wyoming gale. 
 
 "What is it, Kid ?" sang out the sergeant to 
 the sprinter. 
 
 " Sheriff Conway stabbed, and his prisoners 
 loose. They want the doctor. 1 * 
 
 "Why," said Ray, in surprise, "what busi 
 ness could he have out here ? What does it 
 mean ? 
 
 "They were telling me just before tattoo, 
 
 captain, that Conway came out with a warrant 
 
 for some one here at the fort, but asked to see 
 
 Prisoner Healy, one of the two that escaped the 
 
 140 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 night of the train-robbery, the one of the two 
 that was recaptured. The man must have 
 knifed him and got away." 
 
 "Is Captain Ray there?" came a call from 
 the darkness, in the deep, well-known voice of 
 the colonel, and Ray sprang to answer. Then 
 the sergeant turned on Trooper Hunter. 
 
 " Look here, young feller," said he. "They 
 tell me you re the chap Conway wanted." 
 
 141 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 GENERAL court-martial had convened 
 at Ransom for the trial of such enlisted 
 men as should be brought before it, and 
 the president thereof looked out from behind 
 his newspaper during a lull in the proceedings, 
 and, with the characteristic expression which 
 seemed to say, Don t you dare lie to me now, 
 popped the following question : 
 
 " Blake, what s the name of the Three Guards 
 men ? 
 
 And Blake, never laying down his paper 
 or changing a muscle of his long, sallow 
 countenance, placidly and promptly responded, 
 "Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos." 
 
 Captain Gregg, sitting at the right of the pre 
 siding officer, after reflecting profoundly a mo 
 ment, slowly nodded, as though to say, " Right, 
 though I didn t think you knew." Captain 
 Truscott, sitting opposite Gregg and busily occu 
 pied with a letter, glanced quickly from under 
 his heavy lashes and compressed his lips. 
 Some of the youngsters farther down the long 
 table looked a bit mystified ; but Blake s bal 
 ance-wheel, Captain Ray, was not a member of 
 the court, and probably would have accepted 
 142 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 the reply as authoritative had he been there, for 
 Ray was no reader. It was the questioner who 
 looked dissatisfied, and the questioner, as usual, 
 was Mainwaring. 
 
 For a moment he pondered, scowling at Blake 
 the while, then outspoke : 
 
 "Well, that s all right, probably ; but what I 
 want to get at is the name of that other fellow 
 with em Dee something how do you pro 
 nounce it ? 
 
 " Depends on whether you re in a salon or a 
 saloon, major," answered Blake. " Dartanyan 
 in one case and Dee Artagnan in t other. What 
 have you stumbled on now ? 
 
 "Nothing much. Reading about a fellow 
 that named his horse that and thinks he s going 
 to sweep the race-tracks from Jerome Park to 
 Jerusalem. Dee what d you call him? I 
 wouldn t ride one of their steeple-chases on an 
 English saddle if you d give me a thousand 
 do llars." 
 
 "I wouldn t care to ride one on any other 
 kind ; certainly not on one of our service sad 
 dles," said Blake, whose long legs could wrap 
 around any horse in the regiment. "Those 
 high, sharp pommels are the worst kind of thing 
 to use cross country." 
 
 "Not if you know how to ride," said the 
 
 major, who loyally stood by everything that was 
 
 regulation. " I ll bet you any real cavalryman 
 
 will tell you that he d rather use a McClellan 
 
 143 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 for any kind of riding than any other kind of 
 saddle." 
 
 " Done !" said Blake, " and leave it to Stan- 
 nard or Ray." And here he kicked across 
 under the table to rouse his opposite fellow- 
 member to full rejoicing in the colloquy, for 
 Mainwaring couldn t bear to hear Stannard 
 quoted as authority on any subject, and was 
 sure that Ray was a vastly overrated officer. 
 
 "What does Stannard know about it, any 
 how?" bristled Mainwaring: "he never rode 
 anything but a McClellan. And as for Ray, I 
 know a dozen better riders and cavalrymen who 
 agree with me." 
 
 "All right. You come out to the hurdles 
 after court adjourns, major, and we ll give you 
 a chance to see the difference. That pretty 
 mare of Mrs. Ray s is to have a jumping-lesson 
 this afternoon, and you can try both saddles 
 and systems, if you like." 
 
 But the re-entrance of the judge-advocate 
 with the prisoner put a stop to the chat, and 
 Mainwaring called the court to order. 
 
 A week had rolled by since the night of the 
 assault on Sergeant Merriweather and the stab 
 bing of Sheriff Conway. The first episode 
 seemed to have died out of the interest of even 
 the few who knew of it, for Merriweather s lips 
 were sealed, but the second was still the topic 
 of excited talk. 
 
 And well it might be. Armed with a warrant, 
 144 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 so he claimed, for the arrest of certain soldiers 
 of the garrison, Conway had come to the post 
 about tattoo that evening, had stopped at the 
 guard-house and asked to see Prisoner Healy, 
 a soldier under charges of assault and robbery 
 of a fellow-trooper only a few weeks before. 
 Healy and a companion confined as an accom 
 plice had sawed their way out and escaped, as 
 has been told, but the former was recaptured 
 and brought back. He was a merry little 
 Irishman, an almost universal favorite before 
 the trouble occurred. The garrison declared 
 to a man he couldn t have had a hand in the 
 robbery, though it was probable he couldn t 
 have kept out of the assault. But evidence of 
 a serious character was piled up against him 
 when he made the suspicious attempt to get 
 away. Conway was possessed with the idea 
 that Healy knew something about the train-rob 
 bery. No one could surely identify any of the 
 seven languishing in Butte s stronghold, and 
 the sheriff was at his wits end. The officer of 
 the guard had gone over to get his heavy coat 
 and to change into rough rig for the night when 
 Conway appeared, and an over-confident ser 
 geant, detailing a sentry to stand close by, per 
 mitted Healy to come out of the prison-room 
 and be questioned. At first the young Irishman 
 was stubborn and would tell nothing, but grad 
 ually he made admissions and kept glancing 
 fearfully over his shoulder as though he thought 
 10 145 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 the sentry might hear. So Conway drew him 
 around behind the portico of the heavy log 
 structure, and told the sentry to come no nearer : 
 he would be responsible. The very next min 
 ute the sentry heard a stifled cry, a scuffle. 
 Healy darted away like a shot into the darkness. 
 The sentry and the guard pursued in vain, and 
 Conway lay stabbed to the hilt of a ghastly- 
 looking knife. He had bled almost to death 
 before the surgeon reached him or unskilled 
 hands could check the flow. Now he was lying 
 at the post hospital, slowly convalescing, but 
 very weak and dazed. 
 
 The question was, what had become of 
 Healy ? Where was he in hiding ? for no man 
 answering his description had boarded the 
 Transcontinental trains far or near. Butte was 
 a big, straggling frontier town, illimitable in its 
 future possibilities, said the "promoters," and 
 equally illimitable in present devices for con 
 cealing stolen property or stealing practitioners. 
 Butte had a large floating population and small 
 sinking fund, the latter devoted to rewards for 
 capture of malefactors, and Conway had a 
 wide-spread reputation for sleepless vigilance 
 and luckless ventures. He made many ar 
 rests, and nearly as many errors in the eyes 
 of the law, since convictions were few and far 
 between. He had gloried in his seven des 
 peradoes just about forty-eight hours. Then, 
 as man after man looked them over and said 
 146 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 he couldn t testify against them, as they proved 
 to be perfect strangers, Conway s face grew 
 lined and anxious. It began to look as though 
 failure were again about to stamp him, when 
 some one suggested that Pat Healy at the post 
 could tell him all he wanted to know, and 
 somebody else whispered that the sooner he 
 got every man even remotely connected with 
 the robbery the better would it be for his 
 chance of re-election. Then he came to Ran 
 som trebly armed, but his very first victim 
 proved far too clever, adroit, and dangerous. 
 The knife was driven furiously, and it was 
 God s mercy the sheriff was not killed outright. 
 And then Miss Leroy, the Mainwarings 
 guest, had developed an odd fad for an Eastern 
 girl. A more independent young woman had 
 never been seen at Ransom. She was always 
 unlike other girls, said Mrs. Mainwaring. 
 She had always visited the poor and needy 
 at home, and had headed all manner of char 
 itable schemes as a young girl, and had a 
 mania for reading aloud to the sick. Few of 
 the ladies of the th, deeply imbued though 
 some of them were with religious faith, had 
 ever thought it their duty to visit the patients in 
 the big post hospital. The surgeon and the 
 steward did all that. The young assistant sur 
 geon was a bachelor and susceptible. Miss Le 
 roy s plea to be allowed to visit the hospital was 
 eagerly granted, and he himself was there to 
 147 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 escort her. One of the first patients to interest 
 her was Sheriff Conway, to whom she was now 
 reading aloud an hour every morning. Mild 
 raillery had no effect upon her. Expostulation 
 was not resorted to, for it speedily developed 
 that, with all her slender, dainty physique, Miss 
 Leroyhad a vigorous, if placid, will of her own. 
 The post surgeon had said there was no harm 
 whatever, in fact it was a blessing to more pa 
 tients than one, therefore by all means let Miss 
 Leroy keep it up. Thereafter there was no one 
 to say her nay. Secretly Mrs. Mainwaring had 
 hoped the colonel and her husband would ex 
 press disapproval, but, with the perversity of 
 their sex, they persisted in saying to Miss Leroy 
 that she was an angel of goodness, and it was 
 a wonder that other women had not done like 
 wise long before. By the time she had been 
 three weeks at Ransom Kate Leroy was better 
 known and infinitely better loved in the quar 
 ters of the married soldiers whose little ones 
 were ailing, and in the wards of the big hos 
 pital, than all but two or three of the ladies of 
 the regiment. It was a new departure at the 
 post. 
 
 Day after day, then, was she to be seen, each 
 morning about ten o clock, on her way to her 
 patients, and with them she would stay until 
 orderly call sounded at noon. There were four 
 men in hospital when she began ; there were 
 seven men at the end of the week, and the 
 148 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 doctor said she was making it too attractive a 
 place after all. 
 
 " Next thing," said Wilkins, "she ll be after 
 beatifying the gyard-house. * 
 
 Mrs. Mainwaring found that telling her niece 
 what people said about this fad of hers had 
 no effect whatever. So she went a bit further, 
 and told her things people really had not said, 
 but might say ; this, too, fell harmless. After 
 noons and evenings Miss Leroy was ready to 
 devote to social duties and Mrs. Mainwaring, 
 but the morning readings to the men in the 
 convalescent ward went on without interruption 
 or noteworthy incident an entire week ; then 
 came a change in the arrangement. 
 
 True to his colors, Mainwaring was out at 
 the hurdles ten minutes before anybody else 
 that afternoon, and loudly calling for Blake to 
 come and make good his word. He came 
 soon enough, Mrs. Ray and Mrs. Blake, two 
 charming women, with him. Presently out 
 rode Captain Billy on his old favorite " Dandy," 
 now a sedate steed over ten years of age ; after 
 him strode his Irish groom Hogan, leading a 
 beautiful little bay mare, all points and elas 
 ticity, a spirited, dancing creature, with dainty 
 head and legs, brilliant eyes, pretty pointed 
 ears, and a satin coat that fairly glistened. The 
 hurdles were at the edge of the drill-ground on 
 the northeast side of the post, and no sooner 
 was the party sighted from the barracks than a 
 149 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 number of troopers made their way to the fence, 
 and, with appreciative eyes, stood watching at 
 respectful distance the preparation for Stella s 
 first lesson with side-saddle and skirt. 
 
 Among the men was Sergeant Merriweather, 
 still discolored as to his face, but an interested 
 spectator for all that, Mainwaring, Ray, and 
 Blake were in riding dress, Mainwaring and 
 Ray in saddle, and Mainwaring s first bellow 
 was, Now, where* s your English saddle ? 
 
 "Coming," said Blake, coolly, and pointed 
 towards the stables, whence, at easy gait, a tall, 
 slender soldier came riding a troop horse, car 
 rying something over his arm. Blake recog 
 nized at once Ray s recent acquisition, Hunter. 
 Mainwaring stopped glaring at Blake, turned 
 and gazed at the new-comer with all his eyes, 
 and then whirled in saddle towards Ray and 
 ejaculated, "Well, I ll be damned!" There 
 were times when even the presence of ladies 
 couldn t restrain Mainwaring s impulse to ver 
 bal outbreaks. 
 
 " Thought you had a whole troop of rough 
 riders, Ray," said he, after again glowering at 
 the new-comer until he grew tired of the calm 
 indifference which rewarded his gaze. This 
 ain t one of your lot, is it? I ve seem him 
 before." 
 
 "Yes, the day you persuaded him not to 
 enlist," laughed Ray, good-naturedly. "I 
 roped him in afterwards." Then, lowering 
 150 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 his voice, " He s got a hand on a horse s mouth 
 as light as a child s." 
 
 The tall recruit had dismounted from his own 
 troop-horse, and, having thrown the reins over 
 a picket of the fence, was now quietly ap 
 proaching Stella, with a light English saddle 
 in his hand. Hogan, dismounted, was petting 
 her glossy neck and speaking soothingly, but 
 the pretty creature, with ears erect, was switch 
 ing about, apparently hunting for something at 
 which to shy, and the ladies furs gave her 
 ready excuse. The moment Mrs. Ray stepped 
 forward to pat her, Stella backed vigorously, 
 dragging Hogan with her, and, despite Ray s 
 practised hand extended to aid, back she per 
 sisted in going, until she bumped into the hur 
 dle-post. This furnished excuse for a kick and 
 a plunge. Ray sprang from his saddle, and, 
 telling Hogan to look after Dandy, himself took 
 Stella s bit and began Blue Grass expostula 
 tion, which seemed more intelligible than Irish. 
 At all events, the mettlesome creature quieted 
 down long enough to admit of Hunter s ap 
 proach, and that tall, silent young soldier 
 quickly set and girthed the saddle, and then, 
 at a nod from his captain, vaulted on her back, 
 Ray letting go the moment the reins were 
 gathered. 
 
 And then did Stella dance nimbly, daintily 
 about, playful and spirited, but not in the least 
 vicious, Hunter giving her head abundant room 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 to toss, and maintaining only light and easy 
 pressure on the bit. Mainwaring sniffed dis 
 dainfully at the uncavalrylike pose, the long, 
 flat seat, the knees far to the front, the feet 
 set home in the stirrups and away forward. 
 He sniffed still more when Stella began to 
 bound and curvet, and Hunter rose slightly 
 in his stirrups, riding lightly, springingly, and 
 never thinking of sitting fast. Ray called to 
 Merriweather to bring one or two men and 
 come over to the hurdles, and without an audi 
 ble word, the order was obeyed, though it was 
 remarked at the time that the sergeant hesi 
 tated a bit, possibly because of his disfigured 
 face. 
 
 Try her over the bar first, Ray, said Main- 
 waring. And, with a man stationed at each 
 post and the bar set easily nearly three feet 
 from the ground, Hunter guided his pretty 
 mount to the spot, let her sniff at and examine 
 the strange affair, then as quietly rode her a 
 dozen yards away, turned her head to the bar, 
 and, relaxing the reins, gave her the hint to go, 
 his long sinewy legs close pressed to the saddle. 
 Stella came at it delightedly, but changed her 
 mind with the second stride, and would have 
 flown the track but for the firm hand and closed 
 leg. Finding she couldn t dodge and had to 
 do it, she rose high, and half affrighted, cleared 
 the bar and came bounding lightly to the turf, 
 then bolted away with blood in her eye and the 
 152 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 bit in her teeth. Only a few rods, however. 
 Hunter, sitting her like wax now, reined her 
 round in broad circle, headed her back for the 
 group, gradually checking her speed as he 
 neared the party. 
 
 " Try it from that side," said Ray, and over 
 she popped, light as a bird. A third and a 
 fourth time was the leap repeated, Stella enjoy 
 ing being the centre of attraction and improving 
 on her efforts. Then came the attempt at the 
 wider hurdle, a man being stationed at each 
 end to give her the idea of posts between 
 which she must jump : this, too, proved a baga 
 telle. And all this time Hunter had never 
 opened his lips to speak. Now, in obedience 
 to the captain s signal, the trooper reined up 
 close to him. 
 
 "What do you think of her jumping?" 
 asked Ray. 
 
 "She has been well taught, sir," was the 
 answer, in low, quiet tone. I think she will 
 give Mrs. Ray little trouble ; but she has never 
 been ridden with the side-saddle and skirt, I 
 understand. 
 
 No, she had not. Hogan produced the 
 side-saddle and a cavalry blanket. In two 
 minutes the mare was housed in the one and 
 Hunter rolled, as to his legs, in the other. 
 This time mounting was not so easy. Stella 
 despised that blanket and would not suffer it to 
 come near her, and that blanket was to be 
 153 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 tried in lieu of a riding-skirt. Mainwaring sat 
 on his horse, shouting all manner of suggestions, 
 sorely trying Ray s sense of subordination. 
 At last, impatiently, he hazarded the remark, 
 "Phoo, Ray, that man can t ride. There s a 
 dozen men in my old troop would have had 
 her over the hurdle, blanket and all, by this 
 time." 
 
 The blood rushed to Hunter s face, and he 
 bit his lip hard. Thus far Ray had been hold 
 ing the mare s head by the bit, a hub, so to 
 speak, about which she circled, first one way, 
 then the other, to dodge the blanket-swathed 
 form. Now the trooper was heard to speak. 
 
 "Pardon me, captain, but may I take her 
 myself." 
 
 Instantly the two ladies exchanged a glance. 
 I told you he looked like a gentleman, said 
 Mrs. Ray, in low tone. 
 
 Then began a very pretty piece of coaxing. 
 With one firm hand at the bit, the blanket still 
 strapped about his waist, Trooper Hunter had 
 managed to reach Stella s neck with his right 
 hand, and, patting her softly, was murmuring 
 gently. " Makin* love to her in Irish," Hogan 
 muttered to Duffy. Several additions had been 
 made to the group by this time. The colonel, 
 Dana by his side, and followed by his orderly, 
 came riding around from the direction of the 
 stables, and, doffing his cap to the ladies, sat 
 in saddle an interested spectator. Several wives 
 154 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 and children of the soldiers had been attracted 
 from their quarters to the fence, while a little 
 farther back, aloof from the general run of 
 Sudstown people, with a pale-blue shawl, one 
 of Mrs. Freeman s discarded evening wraps, 
 over her head, pretty Mrs. Merriweather stood 
 at gaze. Hunter slowly lifted an edge of the 
 blanket and let Stella nose it, which she did, 
 feigned to be much frightened, and attempted 
 again to pull away. But at last, wearying of 
 fruitless efforts, she consented to smell of it, 
 and then nudged it disdainfully aside. The next 
 thing she knew, Hunter had slipped both hands 
 back, one to the pommel, the other to her 
 mane, and with agile spring alighted on the 
 saddle, threw the right leg over the horn, and, 
 despite her plunging, Stella found herself once 
 more under his weight, firmly held as ever. 
 Five minutes petting made her forget her bur 
 den, even when shown the shadow of the skirt. 
 In less than ten she had leaped the hurdle to 
 and fro half a dozen times, and was realizing 
 she had made a fool of herself. And then 
 some unhallowed inspiration seized the major. 
 
 "What I want is to see how she ll behave 
 under a cavalry saddle. You ve ridden one 
 often enough, I suppose ? he said, scowling at 
 Hunter. 
 
 * Never until I came here, sir. 
 
 " Mean to tell me you ve never been in the 
 cavalry ? 
 
 155 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " I told the major as much a fortnight ago/ 
 was the firm yet respectful reply. 
 
 4 * Well, where* d you learn to ride, then?" 
 asked Mainwaring, who had a fixed idea that 
 no one not of the cavalry could be at home in 
 the saddle ; this, too, despite long years among 
 vaqueros, Comanches, and cowboys. 
 
 " I learned to ride as a boy, sir." 
 
 " Well, dismount and put on that McClellan 
 saddle," said Mainwaring, curtly. 
 
 Atherton heard the order, saw the quick 
 glance of the soldier towards his captain, and 
 the half-vexed expression in Ray s face, and, 
 glancing at Mrs. Ray, hesitated no longer. 
 
 " No, no, major, don t change the saddle. 
 Let us see how she ll take the bar again. Set 
 it loosely, you men, so that it will slide off the 
 pegs if she strikes." 
 
 Sergeant Merriweather was busily setting the 
 peg at three feet again, when, glancing up to 
 see that the opposite end was at the same 
 notch, he caught sight of the slender figure of 
 his wife standing well back of the group at the 
 fence, her eyes fixed, not on him or on the 
 ladies, but, with deep, intense interest in her 
 gaze, upon the tall, erect young soldier on the 
 spirited mare. Up to this moment Merri 
 weather had been silently carrying out his in 
 structions, all his attention given to them or to 
 Stella. Of the man in saddle he took appar 
 ently no notice whatever. Now, forgetting 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 everything else in hand, he stood there, half 
 bent over, gazing, with heaven only knows 
 what thoughts surging through his brain, straight 
 and steadfast at his unconscious wife. 
 
 "Sergeant, don t you hear?" At last the 
 impatient words seemed to reach him, and the 
 flustered face of his comrade at the opposite post 
 recalled him to himself. " The captain says set 
 it at three feet six. Quick ! She s coming. 
 
 Coming she was, with a rush, Hunter s 
 hands held low on her withers, his legs dan 
 gling on the near side as she bounded over the 
 springy turf. Merri weather jerked out the 
 iron peg and thrust it into the three-six hole, 
 lifting the bar as he did so, but turning the 
 hook of the pin upward instead of down. It 
 was no leap at all. There was no reason why 
 she should strike, no reason why, if she did 
 strike, any harm would occur. But it was all 
 done in a second of time. Sitting sideways, 
 instead of astride, Hunter was at a disadvan 
 tage. He could not "lift her" as he was ac 
 customed. The excited creature dashed at the 
 bar as though reckless of its added height ; the 
 off forefoot struck the tough, unyielding wood, 
 tripped her, threw her headlong on the turf, 
 hurling Hunter, blanket, and herself in a con 
 fused and rolling heap. A woman s shriek 
 went up at the instant, but it came not from 
 the lips of the women on the field. 
 
 It seemed but another instant before Hunter 
 157 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 was on his feet, reins in hand, while Stella was 
 struggling to rise. Forgetful of himself, he 
 sought to see if the mare were harmed. Ray 
 and Hogan sprang to his side. " Are you hurt, 
 man ? they eagerly asked, but he laughed it off. 
 
 "Not at all, sir. I m only troubled about 
 her." 
 
 Panting, wide-eyed, and startled, Stella 
 stood, with heaving flanks, wondering what it 
 all meant. Ray hastened to reassure his wife. 
 Atherton rode up to satisfy himself the soldier 
 was uninjured. Over beyond the roadway and 
 fence two of the laundresses were leading Mrs. 
 Merriweather, shocked and actually weeping, 
 away. At them the sergeant stood gazing fix 
 edly, his discolored face working with passion, 
 and Captain Blake had twice to bid him pick 
 up the bar before he answered and obeyed. 
 
 "That s what you call a stand-off, I sup 
 pose, muttered the man at the opposite post, 
 as Merriweather brushed him by. " Don t tell 
 me I don t know who floored you. * But the 
 sergeant never heard. He was hastening after 
 his wife. 
 
 " Ray," said the colonel, as they were riding 
 into the garrison a few minutes later, "that 
 was a piece of gross carelessness on the part 
 of your sergeant. That man has been getting 
 less reliable every month for the last two years. 
 You d better think twice should he apply for 
 re-enlistment." 
 
 153 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 "Gerald," said clear-sighted Mrs. Blake, as 
 she clung to the arm of the captain, after leav 
 ing Mrs. Ray at her gate, "I m glad that 
 didn t happen in your troop. Are you sure 
 Sergeant Merri weather set that pin properly ? 
 Wasn t it his wife that shrieked ?" 
 
 "Pet," said Mrs. Mainwaring to her niece, 
 just as the young doctor lifted his cap and 
 looked for an invitation to enter, as he met the 
 two ladies returning from a call at the Rays an 
 hour later, you and Dr. Jayne came near 
 getting another patient this afternoon, and a 
 most interesting one, they say, a mysterious 
 swell in the Sorrels. He might serve to make 
 you forget the handsome unknown who played 
 doctor for you the night of the collision. She 
 hasn t told you about that, I suppose, has she, 
 doctor ? * 
 
 " M ah, no, no indeed," said Dr. Jayne, 
 in evident dismay. * What was he like, pray ? 
 
 "Oh, divinely tall and most divinely fair," 
 said Mrs. Mainwaring, laughing. Kate has 
 his flask and handkerchief yet, waiting for him 
 to return and claim them and her." 
 
 And that evening Miss Leroy wondered 
 whether aunts were always so disagreeable, or 
 whether this was merely her own fault, and en 
 tirely her fault, because she had admitted that, 
 though there were agreeable men in the regi 
 ment, they were all married. 
 
 59 
 
)NWAY, convalescing, had been bun 
 dled back to town, leaving blessings on 
 the head of his fair nurse and reader. 
 Corporal Shannon, kicked by a mule in the 
 quartermaster s corral, was installed in his place. 
 The daily reading was going on in the hospital, 
 despite social duties that grew more exacting as 
 Miss Leroy became better known and more 
 appreciated. Over in the sorrel troop s quar 
 ters Hunter, despite inflexible reserve as to his 
 past, had won the good will of most of the 
 men. Quin, a garrison bully, pitching upon a 
 smaller comrade for a fancied affront, had been 
 himself pitched into a snow-drift, and when he 
 rushed at his antagonist was floored flat by as 
 neat a swing on the jaw as ever the th had 
 heard of. It was a new blow, in fact, to the regi 
 ment, and the story went from barrack to bar 
 rack that the Sorrels had got a swell boxer as 
 well as rider. Curiosity as to Hunter s antece 
 dents burst all bounds. Major Mainwaring s 
 assertion that he had seen the fellow somewhere 
 before and knew he must be a deserter was 
 sufficient to make the recruit an object of in 
 terest in garrison society, even if he had not 
 1 60 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 won distinction as trainer of Mrs. Ray s beau 
 tiful mare, whose delicate mouth and Eastern 
 schooling made her somewhat too sensitive for 
 ordinary cavalry handling. Ray, once the 
 light rider of the regiment, could have coached 
 her beautifully, but Ray was growing bulky 
 with years, and an old bullet wound in the 
 thigh, received during a Sioux campaign years 
 before, was troubling him as winter wore on. 
 What no one understood was how Ray came 
 to select Hunter, for Ray declared he had no 
 previous knowledge of him whatever, which 
 was true. Truscott, when appealed to for his 
 opinion, smiled gravely, as was his wont, and 
 said Ray had as unerring an eye for a horse 
 man as he had for a horse. But it was in 
 " Sudstown," where dwelt the wives and 
 daughters of the soldiery, that Trooper Hun 
 ter s goings and comings, doings and sayings, 
 were becoming matters of such absorbing in 
 terest. He was credited with being fabulously 
 wealthy, among other things, for he certainly 
 had money at his command. He also had 
 friends and acquaintances some said a wife 
 and family, or at least a lady love somewhere 
 in town, for he had twice asked for passes, 
 and more than once was believed to have gone 
 thither without that formality. Mrs. Merri- 
 weather, who held her head so high above 
 the other women, was accused of " setting her 
 cap" for the stranger, and she laid herself open 
 ii 161 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 to calumny by declaring to one or two envious 
 dames that Mr. Hunter was a frequent caller, 
 only " Dan" didn t like it and had warned him 
 off. " Indeed, he got to coming too often for 
 his own good, said she, which meant worlds 
 of helpless regret on her part. 
 
 Men sought the confidence of the new sol 
 dier, but gave it up in ignorance as deep as 
 that with which they came to him. Some he 
 laughed at, some he snubbed, none he grat 
 ified. It was fortunate he knew how to fight, 
 for there were evil spirits that would have 
 mauled him otherwise on general principles, 
 but Ray kept a sharp lookout for his protege. 
 He, at least, should have fair play, despite the 
 hints of the first sergeant that Conway could 
 tell something about him, and had even asked 
 him, Sergeant Fellows, where he could find 
 Hunter the night he came out with a warrant 
 and was knifed by Healy. Ray rode to town 
 and demanded of Conway what he knew or 
 suspected, and Conway said, "Nothing; at 
 least nothing that I could prove." Ray had 
 flouted the idea of Hunter s being connected 
 in any way with the train-robbers : indeed, it 
 was doubtful if the leaders would ever be 
 caught. They were lost to all search, deep in 
 the Hills, and their luckless accomplices were 
 still held awaiting the action of some Federal 
 official yet to arrive. Stannard and Main- 
 waring had had almost an open rupture, all on 
 162 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 account of Hunter, who, daily exercising and 
 training Mrs. Ray s pretty Stella, was, never 
 theless, performing all other duties with his 
 troop. Mainwaring, noting how successful 
 Hunter had been with Stella, concluded that 
 he should like to have him try his hand on 
 Velvet, Mrs. Mainwaring s saddler, who had 
 never been known to jump, and was confounded 
 when the trooper most respectfully but posi 
 tively begged to be excused. Atherton was 
 away, summoned to meet the department com 
 mander at Pawnee. Stannard was in tempo 
 rary command. Mainwaring asked that the 
 trooper should be directed to perform duty for 
 him, for which he was perfectly willing to pay, 
 or else be ordered to cease doing it for Ray. 
 Stannard said no soldier could be compelled 
 to perform menial service for any officer if he 
 didn t wish to, and if he did not wish to train 
 Mrs. Mainwaring s horse he should not be 
 made to. Mainwaring declared training horses 
 could not be menial service in the eyes of 
 a true cavalryman, and Stannard said that 
 it was if a man thought so. Mainwaring got 
 very wroth, and swore that between them, 
 Stannard and Blake and Ray, they were bound 
 to spoil a man who gave promise of being a 
 good soldier, despite his shadowy antecedents, 
 and again demanded that he be ordered to 
 cease handling Stella for Ray. Stannard said 
 he only did it for the love of the thing, for 
 
 163 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 practice and recreation, and not for emolument, 
 and he should not be denied. Then Atherton 
 came back ; Mainwaring appealed to him from 
 Stannard s decision, and Atherton said he d in 
 vestigate and decide next morning. 
 
 But it was decided for him that night. 
 
 " Ray," said he, at evening stables, " who 
 ever set that huge hay-stack so close to the 
 stables had no idea of prudence. If it were to 
 catch fire your premises would go. I shall 
 order it removed to-morrow." 
 
 Sergeant Merriweather, stable sergeant of 
 the troop up to a week before, heard these 
 words, and so did Sergeant Conro, to whom he 
 was pointing out certain defects in the mech 
 anism of a grain-chute from the loft above 
 their heads. It was storming, and grooming 
 was being conducted inside. Merriweather 
 stopped short in his explanation, stared at the 
 colonel as though the words had dazed him in 
 some way, and then had to be reminded of the 
 subject which he was discussing. 
 
 The wind that had banked the snow-clouds 
 in the southeast during the day veered towards 
 nightfall and blew strong from the southwest. 
 At tattoo it was whisking the hay from the 
 quartermaster s corral and sending it stream 
 ing across the line of stables and out upon the 
 bleak prairie, while, still farther along, under 
 the "bench," the big hay-stacks beyond the 
 corral seemed stripping in the gale, and the 
 164 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 biggest of all was that which projected half 
 way across the open space in front of the line 
 of gable-ends and just opposite that of Ray s 
 troop. At tattoo the gale was almost a bliz 
 zard, and Atherton, ever on the defensive 
 against fires, bade the troop officers look well 
 to their company kitchens and see that all the 
 ranges and stoves were securely banked, then 
 went over to the guard-house in person and 
 held brief consultation with Blake, who was 
 officer of the day, and his officer of the guard, 
 who, as ill luck would have it, was Lieutenant 
 Brady, at whom Atherton looked with scant 
 favor. He was a young man whom Blake 
 described as "one of the detriments of the 
 service." He had been fairly well educated 
 somewhere, had enlisted when it was too evi 
 dent he was in no condition to make a living 
 otherwise, but that was in the summer of 76, 
 when twenty-five hundred men were suddenly 
 raised by Congress to fill the gaps in the regi 
 ments engaged in the Sioux war, and the riff 
 raff of the Atlantic cities was rushed to the 
 frontier. He won a company clerkship in three 
 months, which was considered immense good 
 luck, and lost it within the year, which was 
 supposed to be luck as bad, but turned out to 
 be the stepping-stone to fortune in the soldier s 
 eyes. He was one of an escort attacked by 
 road agents, and, in fighting desperately for 
 his own life, had saved that of the paymaster. 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 The sergeant and corporal with them were 
 killed. Brady was "lanced" on the spot and 
 came home a hero, the subject of a panegyric 
 from the pen of the paymaster, whose uncle was 
 a Senator of much wealth and much knowledge 
 of mining, but little of men. He was on the 
 paymaster s bond for a big sum, and the next 
 thing the th knew a stranger to their ranks 
 appeared with a commission as second lieu 
 tenant, a glib tongue and a convivial turn, 
 plenty of money to start with, and a letter of 
 introduction to Atherton from a famous war 
 general, which letter was susceptible of two in 
 terpretations and was written, there was little 
 doubt, at the instance of the Senator in ques 
 tion, a prominent member of the committee on 
 military affairs. " This will be handed you 
 by Lieutenant Brady," said the letter, "who 
 so distinguished himself in the affair on the 
 Mimbres last year. The department thought 
 best to assign him to the th, and I have as 
 sured his friends that in consigning him to 
 you I have placed him in the best hands pos 
 sible." Senator Sivright was thoroughly satis 
 fied, his nephew the paymaster a bit perplexed, 
 but too wise just then to dissect any other man s 
 motives or letters, lest his own should became 
 objects of scrutiny. Brady proved a jolly ac 
 quisition at first, could sing a good song, tell a 
 good story, and was smart * in many ways 
 and lavish in all. There was a story (put in 
 166 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 circulation by a soldier whose reward for that 
 Mimbres affair had been a discharge and not a 
 commission) to the effect that when they were 
 suddenly attacked by those desperadoes the 
 paymaster had crawled under the wagon 
 and cried, and Brady "allowed" when in his 
 cups that he could tell things, and would if 
 not "properly persuaded." Certain it is that 
 for the first year of his service Brady spent 
 and drank more than a second lieutenant s 
 share. Then the Senator failed of re-election, 
 owing possibly to some shortcomings in his 
 mines ; his nephew, the paymaster, succeeded 
 in planning a robbery that worked better ; and 
 this opened the stagnant flow of promotion 
 in the pay corps, and left Brady without a 
 protector. 
 
 But he held a life office, if he behaved him 
 self, and, being a bachelor in a regiment that 
 spent most of its days in the inexpensive lux 
 uries of field-service, he had managed to pay 
 his debts and, so long as he let whiskey alone, 
 keep out of serious trouble. But Brady and 
 John Barleycorn never connected * that the 
 former did not, as Blake said, make an ass of 
 himself, and his asininity took shape in a pecul 
 iar form of mania that afflicts the bibulous 
 Hibernian, that of imagining, believing, and 
 telling tales of deep and bloody mystery at the 
 expense of his fellow-men in higher social es 
 teem than himself. Friends Brady had few, 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 enemies none worse than himself. He felt the 
 isolation of his lot, wanted to marry, and was re 
 fused by the girls he wanted, which made him 
 gloomier, but campaign work saved him from the 
 solace he would have sought, and Brady had 
 been doing fairly well, for him, when Rawson re 
 turned from leave and gave him a crony and an 
 excuse for a start. Atherton whisked the crony 
 off, as has been said, before much mischief was 
 done, but he could not banish the whiskey, and 
 Brady marched on guard the morning of this 
 eventful day, looking much the worse for three 
 weeks wear and tear and little the better for two 
 strong cocktails. 
 
 Still, he was not incapable of performing his 
 duty, by any means, though eyes and nose held 
 out their danger-signals. Blake had given him 
 a sharp reminder at retreat, and Brady had 
 taken a stiffer brace for fear of consequences. 
 He was feeling shaky when the colonel strode 
 into the ill-lighted room of the officer of the 
 guard, Blake at his heels, and thus addressed 
 him : Mr. Brady, I want you to keep a special 
 watch against fire to-night. Order your sentries 
 about the stacks and stables to allow no one to 
 approach them with pipe or cigar. Who are 
 sentries on Numbers 5 and 6 ? 
 
 Brady looked appealingly at the sergeant, who 
 
 quickly produced his lists. " Reinhardt and 
 
 Monahan, first relief ; Blair and Scully second ; 
 
 Duffy and Hunter third, sir. All good men, sir. 
 
 168 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " Hunter s our new man," said the colonel, 
 eying sharply the officer of the guard. Have 
 you given him personally his orders ? 
 
 N not his night orders as yet, sir, said 
 Brady, well knowing he had questioned him 
 as to none of them, day or night. 
 
 "Well, sir," said Atherton, "you cannot be 
 too vigilant to-night. Make frequent inspec 
 tions, and see that your non-commissioned 
 officers do likewise." Then, as once more he 
 got out into the wind, he bent his head to avoid 
 the blast. " Have you cautioned him, Blake ? 
 He looks anything but alert. 1 
 
 " I don t think he s been drinking much to 
 day, sir. He seems to realize that he can take 
 no chances. I ll keep an eye on him." 
 
 There was a joyous little gathering at Ray s 
 that night. The Mainwarings, Truscotts, and 
 Blakes, with devoted Dr. Jayne on Miss Leroy s 
 account, had dined there ; a number of post 
 people had dropped in later, and Miss Leroy, 
 "looking uncommonly well, if not absolutely 
 pretty," said a lady friend, was being made 
 much of by everybody, despite a slight propen 
 sity on the part of some to be facetious about the 
 daily Bible class, for that artful maiden and 
 daughter of the church, after getting her auditors 
 interested in tales of flood and field, had grad 
 ually led on to the introduction of holier themes. 
 By the end of the first week the New Testament 
 was slipped in among her books, and selected 
 
 169 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 chapters were explained in very different style 
 from anything her soldier patients had ever 
 heard before, and these had become part of the 
 lesson of the day. Blake declared that Father 
 Keefe, of Butte, was getting jealous ; but Miss 
 Leroy was serenely superior to any and all allu 
 sions or reflections. She would stoop to nei 
 ther controversy nor defence. It was her faith, 
 and that was enough. The quartermaster had 
 laughingly suggested that he thought of getting 
 sent to hospital so as to become one of the 
 elect, and Miss Leroy had studied his face one 
 moment with those clear, beautiful eyes of hers, 
 and gravely replied that it might be necessary 
 for him to go to even greater lengths before 
 he could be considered worthy. Then Main- 
 waring had jocosely asked why she didn t 
 start a missionary boom among the officers, 
 whereat Miss Leroy flushed just a little and 
 then smilingly replied that it was not because 
 they did not need it more than the men she 
 had met, but she had no surplus energy to 
 waste. 
 
 "Has no surplus seed to sow on barren 
 ground, major," interposed Blake. "You re 
 member the parable of the hare and the tor 
 toise." Which helped Mainwaring no whit, 
 and only evoked a reproachful glance from 
 Miss Leroy, seeing which Blake whispered so 
 that several heard, "I d wear sackcloth and 
 ashes a week if Mainwaring could prove he 
 170 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 knew the difference between Jacob s Ladder 
 and Jack and the Bean-Stalk. " 
 
 1 Blake," remonstrated Truscott, a moment 
 later, when he got him to one side, you must 
 be more prudent, not to say considerate. Main- 
 waring is too good a soldier to be treated with 
 derision, and you ll make an enemy I should 
 hate to see you have, if you continue. Blake 
 had had other warnings. His clear-headed 
 young wife had already seen in Mrs. Mainwar- 
 ing s somewhat studied courtesy of greeting that 
 something was amiss, and had little doubt that 
 the major had carried home his version of the 
 Three Guardsmen episode in the court-room, 
 which was indeed the case, though, fortunately 
 for Blake, Mainwaring couldn t remember the 
 strange names so glibly given him. Mrs. Blake 
 had sought by every gentle, tactful way in her 
 power to make amends for her beloved Gerald s 
 uncanny propensity to ridicule, but the wound 
 was deeper with Mrs. Mainwaring than with the 
 doughty major. She refused to be mollified, 
 while he, ever tempting somebody by his irre 
 pressible habit of launching impetuous com 
 ment or criticism at anybody whose methods 
 differed from his own, was as constantly inviting 
 reprisals. Relations were strained, therefore, 
 and Blake should have been more guarded. 
 They had even come to such a pass that Mrs. 
 Mainwaring was finding serious fault with her 
 niece because of a growing intimacy between her 
 171 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 and Nannie Blake, and matters were destined 
 to come to a climax in more than one garrison 
 affair, and come to it this very night. 
 
 Mrs, Ray had been in ignorance of any seri 
 ous difference between the Mainwarings and 
 Blake. Indeed, she often said she did not see 
 how anybody could take Blake seriously. But 
 during the dinner it had become apparent more 
 than once. Not in Mainwaring : he, as Blake 
 put it, was mannerless as ever. Mainwaring 
 talked as much and as loudly to Blake as he 
 did to his hostess, on whose right he sat. There 
 were few topics that could be discussed, out 
 side of horse-shoeing, grooming, and company 
 kitchens, in which Mainwaring could be con 
 sidered authority, but in one and all was he dis 
 putatious, challenging the speaker to prove the 
 words, even, as sometimes happened, when the 
 challenged party was a woman and entitled to 
 assert no stronger reason than " Because." 
 
 Mainwaring carried a conversational chip on 
 his shoulder even at dinner-parties, and to-night 
 it had been more than ordinarily in evidence. 
 It was after dinner, and before visitors came 
 dropping in, and the five ladies were chatting 
 in the parlor, that Mrs. Mainwaring s constraint 
 towards Mrs. Blake became marked, as well as 
 her frequent efforts at breaking in upon the 
 cordial, friendly talk between that lady and her 
 niece. 
 
 Finally, just after midnight, when it was time 
 172 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 for all to be going to their homes, Blake, whose 
 duty as officer of the day had twice called him 
 away, again was missing. Ray promptly threw 
 his cape over his shoulders to escort Mrs. Blake, 
 although she lived close at hand, and with 
 merry chat and laughter the various ladies and 
 their escorts were trooping forth into the keen 
 night air, when Mrs. Truscott, who was foremost, 
 held up her hand and said, " Hush ! I hear 
 something," and her face took on an instant 
 expression of alarm. 
 
 The wind was no longer violent, but it blew 
 with steady force across the parade, and sounds 
 from the direction of the guard-house near the 
 south gate, or the stables along the east front, 
 were carried out to the waste of prairie stretch 
 ing away towards the far, pine-crested heights 
 of the Elk range. Yet it was towards the guard 
 house, whose twinkling lights could be plainly 
 seen, that Mrs. Truscott was gazing. Mainwar- 
 ing was, as usual, talking loudest of the party, 
 and was the last to cease. "Nonsense, Mrs. 
 Truscott, you can t hear the baby crying," he 
 almost derisively exclaimed, whereat the lady 
 stamped a shapely foot and spoke as her father, 
 their old colonel, would have spoken when 
 his wife was not present, and this time with 
 effect. 
 
 Some one, panting, came running across the 
 parade. It was the corporal of the guard. 
 
 "Captain Ray," he cried, " Captain Blake 
 173 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 says please come to him quick, at the south 
 gate." 
 
 Ray went like a shot. The corporal started 
 to follow, but Mrs. Blake, alarmed and trem 
 bling, begged him to stop. 
 
 "What s happened?" demanded Mainwar- 
 ing. "Who s hurt? * 
 
 "I don t know, sir. Nobody s hurt that I 
 know of, but there s a patrol out. 
 
 "After some drunken man of Ray s troop, 
 that s all," said Mainwaring, "and Blake don t 
 want to put him under guard. See if it ain t. 
 Come," he said, tendering an arm to his wife. 
 
 But Mrs. Blake knew her own mind, and, 
 without a word of reply, started straight across 
 the road in the direction taken by Ray. 
 
 "Oh, don t go, Mrs. Blake;" "Don t go, 
 Nannie ;" " I m sure it s nothing serious," were 
 the various cries that followed her, but she never 
 faltered. " Good-night," she cried ; " I m go 
 ing to Gerald. Reluctantly the doctor called 
 after her, 
 
 " Oh, wait, Mrs. Blake. If you must go, I ll 
 I ll escort you." 
 
 "Yes," said Miss Leroy, firmly, "and take 
 me too. Saying which, she started her escort 
 almost on a run. 
 
 " Pet Kate indeed I protest. Indeed you 
 must not go !" called Mrs. Mainwaring. 
 
 Aw, Kate, don t be so idiotic, shouted the 
 major, but all to no purpose. " Pet" and her 
 174 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 obedient ^Esculapius were already in swift pur 
 suit, and, if not out of hearing, out of sight. 
 
 And then, all of a sudden, the eastward 
 gable ends of the barracks, the east side of the 
 guard-house tower, the topmast of the tall 
 white flag-staff, were all for one brief instant 
 flashed on the night in a lurid glare, and as 
 suddenly died out of sight. Away over be 
 yond the edge of the bluff a dull, smothered, 
 booming sound smote the wintry air, and some 
 thing shook the windows and caused the earth 
 to tremble. Then a carbine cracked and a 
 sentry yelled, half stifled ; then came a distant 
 sound of crackling, like pistol-shots ; a trum 
 pet pealed, and sounds of rush and scurry fol 
 lowed. There was only one explanation, the 
 magazine. 
 
 17,5 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 was eleven-thirty that night when Cor 
 poral Judkins, posting his relief, came 
 stumbling along the rough ground be 
 low the bench, and turned into the flat be 
 tween the quartermaster s hay-stacks and the 
 stables. No. 5 he had posted at the east gate 
 and picked up the shivering sentry who for two 
 mortal hours had been swearing and trotting 
 up and down in vain effort to keep warm. No. 
 6, down among the shadows of the stacks and 
 stables, was not so easy to find. When at last 
 his challenge was heard, he leaped from the 
 shelter of the very stack that had called forth 
 the colonel s condemnation that evening at 
 stables, and, between cold and excitement or 
 something, was incoherent in his formula for 
 receiving relief, and had to be sharply prompted 
 by the corporal in turning over his orders. 
 What s the matter with you, Scully ? snarled 
 the corporal. "You talk as if you d been 
 asleep. Turn over your orders, man, and 
 don t keep us shivering here." 
 
 The tall soldier who was to relieve him stood 
 patiently, with his carbine at port. Silently he 
 listened to the mumbled words, "Allow no one 
 
 176 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 to approach the stables or stacks with lighted 
 pipe or cigar. Allow no vehicles to be driven 
 to or from the stables, or horses taken out ex 
 cept in presence of a commissioned officer, 
 stable sergeant, or non-commissioned officer 
 of the guard. Be on the alert for fires, and 
 keep special lookout for the sparks from laun 
 dresses s quarters when they start their fires in 
 
 the morning " And then Judkins cut him 
 
 short. 
 
 "You ve got em twisted; but you know 
 them all, don t you, Hunter?" 
 
 The tall recruit nodded. 
 
 Take your post, said the corporal. Fall 
 in, Scully. Darned lot of use you d be to 
 night. You smell as if you d been drinking." 
 
 "I wish / had, bedad," shivered No. 2. 
 "Go on, corporal, or we ll never get thawed." 
 And in a moment more the tramp of the foot 
 steps died away and Hunter was alone. 
 
 He was warmly clad, for, in addition to the 
 fur cap and gauntlets, heavy overshoes had 
 been added to the soldier s equipment for win 
 ter duty dismounted, and, as there was every 
 indication of snow, the guard had been ordered 
 to wear them this night. Then in Ray s troop 
 they had a knack of keeping hot coffee in the 
 kitchen on the bitter winter nights for the ben 
 efit of their guards, and, though it reminded 
 him but feebly of the fragrant Mocha of other 
 days and climes, it had cheered him not a 
 
 12 177 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 little, and he felt alert and vigorous and inde 
 pendent as he began patrolling his lonely post. 
 Along the bluff to the westward the black bulk 
 of the barracks loomed up against the starry 
 sky. Between him and them were, close at 
 hand, the huge hay-stacks, and then the scat 
 tered huts and cottages of the married men. 
 In one or two of these faint night lights were 
 glowing. Several children had been ailing, 
 and there were anxious hearts among the 
 lowly. But there were no little ones at Merri 
 weather s, yet a dim light shone from the south 
 ward window. What manner of man was Mer- 
 riweather, anyway ? pondered the sentry, as, 
 pacing briskly up the open space before the 
 stables, he went over in mind the adventure 
 now nearly two weeks gone by. Never once, 
 by word or act, had the sergeant shown the 
 faintest intention to seek satisfaction for the 
 blow that had floored him. True, he never 
 spoke to Hunter, never seemed to see him, and 
 the accident to Stella and himself might, de 
 spite all the sergeant s protests to his captain, 
 have been the result of his design. Once, 
 twice, Hunter had seen Mrs. Merriweather, but 
 at such a distance that speech with her was out 
 of the question, even had he sought it. But 
 she had seen him and looked long and mean 
 ingly at him, and he could not but know it. 
 For some reason Merriweather saw fit to hide 
 the facts connected with his absence from tat- 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 too that night, and, so long as no one in au 
 thority questioned, it was not Hunter s province 
 to explain. 
 
 Keeping vigilant lookout on every side as 
 he paced up and down, the soldier gave his 
 thoughts free rein. He was glad to be alone 
 to think and plan. There was no glamour 
 about soldiering as he had found it, and it was 
 useless denying even to himself that he would 
 gladly have recalled his rash enlistment, but, 
 that being impossible, grit and pride asserted 
 themselves and bade him stand to his guns 
 and give no sign. Barring the inquisitive 
 proddings of the men, he had had no active 
 annoyances after the first few days. Would-be 
 tormentors respected a man who was so free 
 with his fists and his money. His officers, 
 except Mainwaring, had treated him with grave 
 and distant courtesy, for of Brady he had seen 
 nothing at all until this day. News from home 
 and abroad he had had none and wanted none. 
 It was his purpose to shut himself out from the 
 old world for good and all. Parents he had 
 lost in early boyhood. Brothers and sisters 
 he had none. Sweethearts two. One, the 
 first, his senior by at least four years, and 
 now a staid wife and mother. The second 
 might or might not be wearing a coronet by 
 this time. His Grace of Lancaster was on his 
 last legs, and his eldest hope, Lord Lunemouth, 
 on his last lung, when Gray left Switzerland in 
 179 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 April. That "Amy, shallow-hearted," had 
 wedded Rokeby by this time was possible, if 
 not probable. There were New York papers 
 in the post library, but Hunter had seen none, 
 would see none. In his stern renunciation of 
 the world, the flesh, and the devil of his old 
 life, Trooper Hunter would admit no interest 
 in the doings of Gotham. The one thing that 
 bound him to the old life was the knowledge 
 that, up to October at least, his fond old uncle 
 was still in the land of the living. A stroke of 
 some kind had prostrated him before Gray s re 
 turn from abroad. Physicians had prescribed a 
 long sea-voyage. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy Hunter 
 had sailed for North Cape, had gone thence to 
 some German spa. His health was shattered, 
 his mind almost a blank. She was still in the 
 prime of life. He, said the last news Darcy 
 had of him before starting for the wide West, 
 hardly recognized his attendants. She bore 
 her sorrows with the patient resignation of the 
 Christian who knows there s life for her beyond 
 the grave of a departed husband. 
 
 Of the remnant of his fortune Gray had still 
 a few thousand dollars banked where it would 
 be safe until sorely needed. Under an humble 
 roof within the limits of Butte were stored cer 
 tain trunks containing civilian clothing and 
 things he valued. Here at barracks he had 
 only his soldier outfit of uniform, with the 
 addition of better underwear and shoes than 
 180 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 were issued by Uncle Sam. One poor fellow 
 and his suffering wife, at least, were the better 
 for the strange coming of this eccentric : the 
 starving tramp who boarded the train that 
 night at Willow Springs had now a roof over 
 his head and hers, and food, fire, and clothing. 
 She was sufficiently recovered to take in wash 
 ing, for Chinamen were unpopular if not un 
 profitable servants just then in Wyoming, and 
 he, the starveling of that night on the train, 
 was once more a carpenter, his tools out of 
 pawn, and he no longer out of work. That 
 man s actual misery and suffering, all for the 
 lack of a few dollars, no more than he, Hun 
 ter Gray, had been accustomed to throw away 
 on cigars or sundries in the course of a month, 
 had opened the eyes of the world-weary trav 
 eller and given him food for thought and spur 
 to action. 
 
 One anxiety had oppressed him since his 
 voluntary entrance upon the task of training 
 Stella, a duty which need have occupied but a 
 few days had it not been for that untoward mis 
 hap. She fought shy of the bar for several les 
 sons thereafter, connecting it and the flapping 
 blanket unerringly with her violent fall. Hun 
 ter s anxiety was that any afternoon when so 
 occupied he might find Mrs. Mainwaring and 
 her niece among the lookers-on, and he shrank 
 from recognition. He had even sought to get 
 his captain to change the hour to morning, but 
 181 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 there had been fine, open weather, and Ath- 
 erton lost no opportunities for battalion drill. 
 Hunter took to these, despite the crowding and 
 squeezing when in line, like a duck to the 
 water, but all the same he would have preferred 
 giving Stella her lesson when he knew Miss 
 Leroy to be engaged at the hospital, for the 
 fame of that benevolent young lady s work 
 had spread throughout the barracks as well as 
 the quarters. 
 
 And it was of her and that odd introduction 
 he was thinking now, as he briskly tramped up 
 and down, peering among the hay-stacks and 
 stables. Just before the midnight call his post 
 had been visited by the sergeant of the guard, 
 who inquired as to his orders and bade him 
 look out any moment for Captain Blake or 
 Lieutenant Brady. The midnight call of the 
 sentries went round in rather slipshod fashion, 
 thanks to the wind, but no sooner had Hunter 
 shouted the prolonged " All s well" than he 
 wished he could recall it. Not a suspicious 
 sight or sound had he noted after the ser 
 geant went his way, but now, before he could 
 realize or dodge, something came spinning 
 through mid-air, over his head, settled down 
 on his shoulders with a jerk ; then a blanket 
 was whirled about his face, and, with his 
 breath fairly choked out of him, with only 
 time for one startled, stifled cry, the loop of a 
 lariat was suddenly drawn taut, hurling him 
 182 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 violently to the frozen ground, and in another 
 second two or three men had thrown them 
 selves furiously upon him. Despite mad strug 
 gles, he was bound, gagged, and kicked behind 
 the hay-stack. His carbine was whisked away. 
 He lay there helpless and half-strangled, but 
 they had removed the blanket, so that he at 
 least could breathe and see. And then from 
 beyond the stable of his troop came two more 
 men with a cart. Into this was swiftly loaded 
 box after box of some weighty substance, the 
 boxes being dragged from underneath the 
 very stack that had caused the colonel s cen 
 sure, the stack that interposed between Ray s 
 stable and the little domicile of Sergeant Mer- 
 riweather under the low bluff. Loaded with 
 all it could safely carry, the cart was swiftly 
 trundled off into the darkness, three burly 
 forms propelling, two remaining close at hand. 
 Not a word was spoken that Hunter could 
 hear. The cart came back for another load 
 in less than five minutes, and this time, in 
 addition to heavy little boxes which he could 
 almost swear contained ammunition and, pos 
 sibly, revolvers, they dragged sacks of oats 
 from underneath the stack, and loaded them 
 too upon the cart. Three trips were made in 
 all, then every man vanished and he was ut 
 terly alone. Raging at his plight, powerless 
 to help himself in any way, and suffering not 
 a little from the sharpness of his cords and the 
 183 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 brutal manner in which he had been gagged, 
 Hunter managed to keep cool and think. At 
 the utmost he probably would not be left there 
 more than twenty minutes. When the call was 
 passed at twelve-thirty his voice would be 
 missed ; the corporal would have to come down, 
 and, not rinding him on his post, would institute 
 search ; then he would be released and could 
 tell his story. 
 
 Even as he lay there he could swear he heard 
 the sound as of hoofs and heavy-laden wheels 
 crashing through the ice on the little shallow 
 stream beyond the stables. Presently the 
 bitter cold of the frozen ground seemed to 
 penetrate through his heavy clothing, and he 
 began to suffer keenly. The wind blew but 
 lightly where he lay in the lee of the stack, 
 and, though he knew it was not time for the 
 sentries to call off, he strained his ears to catch 
 the sound of footfalls, Blake or Brady, and 
 the sergeant, too, might be along again. He 
 prayed indeed they might be, for robbery had 
 been committed before his very eyes. He had 
 heard rumors of the disappearance of forage. 
 He had heard the men talk of the exposed 
 situation of the brick magazine out there on the 
 prairie, southeast of the post. Only on bright 
 moonlit nights could the sentry see it from the 
 east gate, while from the south gate it was 
 hidden entirely. He knew that most of the 
 ammunition, pistol, carbine, and cannon, was 
 184 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 kept there, and at one time quite a lot of small- 
 arms. The ordnance sergeant slept in the 
 garrison, his keys in a strong box under his 
 bed, yet thieves had plundered both the maga 
 zine and the stables, and hidden their booty 
 underneath the big hay-stack, awaiting oppor 
 tunity to run it away to some reliable cus 
 tomer in town. That they were members of 
 the garrison was evident from that very fact. 
 Townsfolk would have come with wagons in 
 the first place. 
 
 Fifteen minutes at least had he still to wait 
 and suffer, possibly more, if no officer of the 
 guard chanced to inspect right after twelve, or 
 if the corporal should be slow running to as 
 certain why the twelve-thirty call was not re 
 peated. Fifteen minutes, and already he was 
 enduring torment. Then came sudden hope, 
 the sound of a swift, light footfall, then a 
 woman s voice. 
 
 Dan ! Danny ! where are you ? Come 
 home quick, for God s sake. They re hunting 
 for you now. * 
 
 No answer. 
 
 Again the plaintive cry was repeated. A 
 woman s slender form sped swiftly by, turned 
 the corner of the huge stack, and then, as 
 though recoiling at sight of danger, darted 
 back, shuddering, stumbled over his prostrate 
 body, and only with difficulty saved itself from 
 falling. Quick as thought the woman whirled 
 185 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 upon him, one half-stifled, nervous cry escaping 
 from her lips. 
 
 Scully, you beast ! Why are you lying 
 there ? You are not drunk. The liquor he 
 gave you wouldn t do this. Where s he gone ? 
 Answer, I say. Ah-h !" And the cold hands 
 that had seized and shaken him fell away in 
 fright at touch of the gag. Quickly she re 
 covered herself, fumbled in her pocket, found 
 a pair of scissors, and slashed the bands that 
 were strangling him. "What fool work is 
 this ?" she whimpered. " Sure Dan shouldn t 
 have gagged you, Scully, Who was with him ? 
 Who did it ? Answer," she implored, shaking 
 him vehemently. "Get up, Scully, quick! 
 For the love of God find him ! They ve been 
 to the house already the guard. Somebody s 
 
 peached. Somebody Who tied this lariat ? 
 
 It s knotted like Wait till I get a knife. 
 
 Lie still, Scully." And away she sped, leaving 
 him to wonder, bound as he was, how he could 
 lie otherwise. She was back in a moment, 
 panting, breathless. She sawed at the thick 
 cordage until it snapped, then stared wildly 
 one instant as the tall figure straightened up, 
 then with a cry of horror started back. " Scully 
 No ! What ? you ? Hunter ? Oh, blessed 
 saints, have mercy !" 
 
 But the instant he was released and had 
 gained his feet, unarmed though he was and 
 half numbed, the tall, athletic soldier sprang 
 1 86 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 away into the darkness and ran like a deer 
 across the open space and on past the stables 
 towards the stream, shouting as he ran at the 
 full strength of his powerful lungs, Corporal 
 of the guard, Number 6 ! Corporal of the 
 guard, Number 6 !" 
 
 Out on the low bank across the narrow 
 stream he could see, outlined against the sky, 
 two dark, shadowy figures go scurrying swiftly 
 by, running from the direction of the old mag 
 azine. It stood only a few yards beyond the 
 crest. Again he set up his powerful shout, 
 "Corporal of the guard, Number 6!" and 
 away off to the northeast, although farther 
 than himself from the guard-house, Duffy on 
 No. 5 at the east gate, sure that something 
 was dreadfully amiss, was repeating the cry. 
 Hardly knowing what he should do if he over 
 took them, Hunter dashed into the shallow 
 stream, in hopes of reaching the opposite bank 
 and overhauling the marauders, but the broken, 
 slippery ice trapped and threw him again. 
 Down he went splash into the chilling waters ; 
 up he scrambled, only to slip and go down a 
 second time ; then staggered to his feet, breath 
 less, almost exhausted now ; tumbled up the 
 opposite bank ; clambered on all-fours to the 
 crest ; gazed hurriedly about in search of friend 
 or foe ; peered into the darkness to the south 
 and southwest, but the runners had disap 
 peared ; then gazed to the east and sprang 
 187 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 to his feet, startled. Not twenty yards away 
 loomed the black bulk of the old brick maga 
 zine, and, hissing and sputtering, a fiery ser 
 pent seemed dancing in front. It bounded to 
 the door-way, now in the ruddy light dimly 
 seen to be open, disappeared within a little 
 cloud of sulphur smoke, and then the heavens 
 lit up with an awful glare ; he felt himself hurled 
 violently backward ; for one instant he seemed 
 to see a million stars criss-crossing through the 
 skies ; his ears were stunned and deafened by 
 a thunderous roar ; the air was filled with fly 
 ing bricks and beams and sheets of flame that 
 scorched and seared and blinded him. Then 
 something crashed upon his skull, and he top 
 pled over the bank and went plunging down to 
 the icy flood beneath. 
 
 1 88 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 )VEMBER had given way to a still 
 more wintry month, and December, 
 cold, clear, snow-white, and sparkling, 
 chained the streams in icy fetters and spread 
 abroad its fleecy blanket. The holidays were 
 drawing nigh, and garrison children were revel 
 ling in hope and whispered rumors of the great 
 times to come. There was to be a Christmas- 
 tree in the post hall, with presents for all the 
 little ones. Miss Leroy was managing every 
 thing, and what Miss Leroy undertook went 
 with a dash. The afternoons now were given 
 up to all manner of sewing and stitching and 
 contriving, dressing dolls and filling cornucopias 
 and parcelling out gifts so that no child should 
 be overlooked or forgotten, but never once did 
 Miss Leroy neglect her morning Bible class, 
 for such it had become, and into the fold were 
 gladly drawn, not only convalescent patients 
 in hospital, but volunteers from barracks and 
 quarters who had no bodily ills, but who re 
 joiced in souls in need of saving. Ransom had 
 no chaplain in those days, or sectarian piety 
 might have taken alarm at the rapid increase 
 in Miss Leroy s weekday Sunday-school. Two 
 189 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 of the most devout and regular attendants of 
 late were Sergeant and Mrs. Merriweather. 
 Drills were suspended, it being now too cold 
 and snowy, and Miss Leroy s hospital services 
 began regularly at ten. She would enter, 
 bright, smiling, happy-faced, go at once to her 
 little desk, and open the ball. Now, the Scrip 
 tures came first, there was no longer doubt 
 as to the main object of her charitable enter 
 prise, but when the lessons of the day were 
 disposed of, and a brief sermon read from the 
 collection of some famous divine, the barrack 
 squad and Sudstown people would retire, and 
 she could then devote another hour to lighter 
 reading for the benefit of her patients exclu 
 sively, some of whom were still in the ward 
 with the graver cases. 
 
 And among these latter, with bandaged eyes 
 and burned and blistered face and hands, an 
 unrecognizable bundle of bandages, lay Trooper 
 Hunter, over whose head, unseen, unknown, 
 there was hanging a sword. 
 
 For some days and nights concussion of the 
 brain was feared. The magazine had been 
 blown into a thousand fragments, and how 
 many of these, beams or bricks, had felled 
 him, no one ever knew. He was hauled out 
 of the stream, feet first, like poor Pat Shea, 
 bleeding, burned, and senseless. He began to 
 mend in a few days, however, and by the 8th 
 of December was occasionally sitting up in an 
 190 
 
Miss Leroy took to sitting by Hunter s bedside. 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 invalid chair, his eyes and cheeks still under 
 cover. But from the time his convalescence 
 began, Trooper Hunter had spent two hours 
 each morning listening to the voice of the 
 charmer who charmed so wisely, and there 
 came a day when she bent over his couch and 
 laid her cool soft white hand on his forehead 
 and asked him if there were nothing she could 
 do, no friends or relatives to whom he would 
 like her to write, and he murmured that he 
 couldn t think of any just then, but might if 
 she d come again to ask him on the morrow. 
 She came, and on the next and the next day, 
 too, marvelling not a little at the voice, the in 
 telligence, the language, of this particular pa 
 tient. She strove to study his features, but 
 without success, for when the doctor thought to 
 remove the bandages the patient declared the 
 morning light was altogether too much for his 
 weakened eyes. He would be bandaged in 
 the morning, though the afternoon sunshine 
 was really more brilliant, and he didn t seem 
 to mind it then. Miss Leroy took to sitting by 
 Hunter s bedside as much as ten minutes at 
 first ; then the ten began to lengthen to fifteen 
 and even twenty, and other patients waxed 
 impatient and said things about Hunter and 
 thought things about her that proved how jeal 
 ous is the human heart, even when it beats 
 beneath a flannel shirt. The surgeon said 
 Hunter could soon return to his troop, as far as 
 191, 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 his health was concerned, but there were rea 
 sons to fear his health might suffer after he got 
 there, for Major Mainwaring, now in temporary 
 command of the post, was making frequent 
 and impetuous inquiries. Colonel and Mrs. 
 Atherton had gone East on two months leave ; 
 Major and Mrs. Stannard had gone to Russell 
 for a fortnight to visit old friends in another 
 regiment ; and here, to his huge delight, was 
 Mainwaring in command of an eight-company 
 post. Then the surgeon asked why Mainwar 
 ing was so anxious to have the patient out, and 
 learned something that proved a painful shock. 
 
 11 Well, major," said he, after a solemn si 
 lence, "of course you re commanding officer, 
 but I find it mighty hard to believe that story, 
 and I protest against its being made known 
 to him until he is strong enough to bear it, 
 which he isn t now." 
 
 There had been much talk at the hospital, 
 among the stewards and attendants and pa 
 tients who could talk at all, as to the result of 
 the board of survey promptly convened at Col 
 onel Atherton s request to ascertain the cause 
 of the mysterious explosion which had wrecked 
 the magazine and ruined its contents, and it 
 did not take long for such keen scouts and 
 trailers as Ray, Blake, and old Wilkins to 
 make up their minds. Coupled with what had 
 occurred at the south gate that night, just a little 
 while before the explosion, there was no doubt 
 192 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 that an extensive robbery had taken place and 
 that the object of the destruction of the maga 
 zine was the obliteration with it of evidences 
 of the crime. 
 
 It seemed that shortly before eleven-thirty 
 that night two veteran sergeants of Truscott s 
 troop, returning from Butte on pass, became 
 aware of a wagon driving ahead of them as 
 they left town and soon disappearing out on 
 the prairie east of the road. Now there was 
 not a ranch or house to which it could have 
 gone.; everything of that kind lay farther 
 down the stream, where it swept in bold curve, 
 first to the south, then eastward again. Rumors 
 of forage-stealing they had heard, and there 
 fore decided to find where the wagon went, but 
 after searching awhile in the gale and the dark 
 ness they gave it up, yet warned the sergeant 
 of the guard as they alighted at the south gate, 
 and their hack-driver returned with his rig to 
 town. Captain Blake was notified, and a pa 
 trol was ordered out to scour the right bank of 
 the little stream that flowed back of the stables. 
 They hadn t gone fifty yards before they stirred 
 up a squad of troopers that scattered at their 
 approach, but one was captured, Ray s rap 
 scallion of a trumpeter "the Kid," and the 
 Kid refused flatly and characteristically to say 
 who the others were. A privileged character 
 was the Kid. He had been ten years or more 
 in the regiment, and ten dozen times in scrapes. 
 13 193 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 A better little soldier on campaign or a worse 
 one in garrison couldn t be found in all the 
 th, and as the regiment had spent more of 
 those ten years in the field than in the fort, the 
 Kid had still a small balance to his credit. He 
 had a medal of honor from Congress for hero 
 ism in fierce, savage battle, and a record for 
 deviltry of every conceivable kind. Ray was 
 the only man, except Atherton, he either feared 
 or loved. Grinning from ear to ear, he told 
 Blake that there wasn t any officer in the regi 
 ment smart enough to scare him into giving 
 away a fellow-soldier, and Blake sent for Ray. 
 Something told him there was mischief afoot, 
 and Ray and the explosion came almost to 
 gether. 
 
 Only two men in all Fort Ransom, however, 
 were found to have anything to explain as to 
 their whereabouts that night : first, Sergeant 
 Merriweather, whom the sergeant of the guard 
 had inquired for just after visiting sentries, and 
 solely because a light was burning so late in 
 his window. The second was the new trooper, 
 Hunter, found nearly three hundred yards away 
 from his proper post, blinded, senseless, bleed 
 ing, and half drowned. The Kid had told the 
 plausible tale that him and three other fel 
 lers were sneaking off to town for a lark when 
 detected. Merriweather declared that he had 
 heard horses stamping and snorting in the 
 stables, and had considered it his duty, though 
 194 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 no longer stable sergeant, to go and investi 
 gate, and that he saw no sentry on No. 6, but 
 hunted up and down for him, wondering where 
 he could be, and was so occupied when the 
 explosion occurred. But Hunter had not yet 
 been approached. There were reasons why it 
 was deemed best to let him suppose no suspicion 
 attached to him. 
 
 For, no sooner was it light enough to see, 
 the morning after the explosion, than Atherton 
 had some of his best officers scouring the prai 
 rie for traces. They found bricks, bullets, and 
 unexploded boxes of cartridges all over the 
 neighborhood, but not one of the forty re 
 volvers and only twenty of the eighty boxes 
 of carbine, rifle, and revolver cartridges that 
 should have been there. Of the barrel of rifle 
 powder and half-barrel of cannon cartridges 
 not a vestige, of course, remained. All this 
 was brought out by the board, and the board s 
 findings having been sent to Department head 
 quarters, Atherton, as has been said, had gone 
 off on leave ; so had Stannard, and this left 
 Mainwaring in command. 
 
 " Not a word, not a hint to that fellow until 
 I tell you," said Mainwaring to the post sur 
 geon, who, an older man and a major senior 
 in rank by several years, was nevertheless his 
 inferior in the eyes of military law and regula 
 tion, he being debarred from assuming com 
 mand. And so, as Hunter grew stronger every 
 195 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 day and watched with eagerness for the coming 
 each morning of the young devotee, there 
 dawned upon him no ray of suspicion of the 
 toils that were surrounding him, for Miss Le- 
 roy, who used to talk at home of her pupil 
 patients, had become silent as to one at least, 
 and uncommunicative as to all, for Mrs. Main- 
 waring of late had expressed her disapproba 
 tion in no measured terms, and there was no 
 longer that sweet accord which should obtain 
 between aunt and niece. 
 
 One bright morning the doctor bade Hunter 
 lay aside the shrouding bandages entirely and 
 wear only a green shade over the eyes. Or 
 ders were orders, but when Miss Leroy entered 
 and as usual spoke to him, a dainty handker 
 chief was pressed to his face. The light, he 
 said, was still too dazzling. 
 
 " But you are much better," said she, in her 
 clear tones. "The doctor says you can soon 
 return to light duty, probably before Christmas." 
 
 Then as she took her seat to read, her side 
 face towards him, he slipped the kerchief a little 
 to one side that he might gaze undisturbed. 
 
 The men had asked that she should give 
 fifteen minutes at least to the leading events 
 of the day, and a Chicago paper was selected 
 for their edification. From this she chose such 
 items as she thought might prove of interest, 
 and to these Hunter listened, in spite of him 
 self. First she read of the political news ; 
 196 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 then the doings of great dignitaries, foreign 
 and domestic ; and then came accidents by 
 flood and field, and another railway hold-up on 
 a small scale. To all these he lent but languid 
 ear. He was watching with eager eyes the 
 movements of those soft, sensitive, curved red 
 lips. He hardly paid even faint attention to 
 what she was saying, until something in the 
 names struck him as familiar. All the fore 
 most part of the paragraph had passed un 
 heard, unheeded, but now, now only by strong 
 effort could he restrain himself from sitting bolt 
 upright in bed and reaching out and seizing the 
 paper and reading for himself ; for what she 
 read, when once again he became conscious of 
 her words, was this : 
 
 " The overturned yacht now lies in forty feet 
 of water, her taper masts and upper rigging all 
 that remain visible. Mr. Hunter is doing well, 
 carefully attended by Dr. Lambert at the Hotel 
 des Ambassadeurs. The bodies of Mrs. Hun 
 ter and her unfortunate friends will doubtless 
 be recovered this morning. The ladies were 
 caught in the cabin when the Amorita was 
 struck, and escape was impossible. She went 
 to the bottom like a shot. English and Amer 
 ican residents are in deep grief. The ball-room 
 at the Casino last night was almost deserted. 
 Many New York and Philadelphia families are 
 at Nice for the winter, and the tragic fate of 
 Mrs. Hunter has cast a gloom over the com- 
 197 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 munity. Mr. Hunter had greatly improved in 
 health, but it is feared this bereavement may 
 again prostrate him. They have no children." 
 The Amorita ? That yacht was owned by a 
 wealthy English admirer of his uncle s wife. 
 For more reasons than one, Hunter Gray had 
 never fancied him, and even his easy-going 
 uncle seemed to hold aloof. But Mrs. Hunter, 
 so much her husband s junior in years, loved 
 society, adored yachting, and what was more 
 necessary for her beloved invalid s recovery 
 than the soft sea-breezes of the Riviera and 
 the idyllic do Ice far niente days and nights 
 under those incomparable Mediterranean skies 
 and on the Amorita s dainty deck ? There was 
 a late supper going on one joyous night aboard, 
 just as she was coming in from a day s dancing 
 over the blue waters. There was misunder 
 standing between her skipper and that of a 
 steamer over the right of way, signals, or God 
 knows what, for when the Amorita rounded to 
 the cruel black prow struck her amidships and 
 ground her underneath the iron keel. Through 
 the devotion of the crew Mr. Hunter and one 
 or two friends with him were rescued. They 
 were on deck. But nothing could save the hap 
 less banqueters still below. Darcy Hunter had 
 survived the wreck of his business, the wreck 
 of the Amorita, had survived even his young, 
 light-hearted wife, with whose remains, said the 
 paper, he would return to America at once. 
 198 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 jjHAT evening when the surgeon was 
 making his visit to the hospital the 
 steward told him Trooper Hunter de 
 sired to speak with him, and, halting somewhat 
 in his gait and looking very pallid still, but 
 otherwise little the worse for wear, the tall sol 
 dier was ushered into the dispensary. 
 
 The junior medical officer, for reasons the 
 senior could not quite fathom, had on several 
 occasions recently asked the senior if he did 
 not think Hunter fit to return to light duty, and 
 gave his opinion that he was getting soft and 
 lazy there. The post surgeon, for reasons the 
 junior could not fathom at all, replied that he 
 thought it might be several days before he 
 should permit Hunter to return to his troop. 
 This in no wise added to Jayne s good will to 
 wards his gentlemanly and attractive patient. 
 Hunter was fortunate in having won the sym 
 pathy of the senior. To-night he won some 
 thing more. 
 
 Standing bolt upright at the door, he said, 
 
 May I speak one moment with the colonel, 
 in private ? 
 
 The surgeon almost blushed as he whirled 
 towards the speaker. All through the war of 
 199 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 the rebellion he had served, a gallant, skilful, 
 devoted officer, ever seeking duty at the front, 
 ever ready night or day to brave peril, hard 
 ship, or fatigue to go with his regiment into 
 action. Time and again he had dashed with 
 them into battle. More than once he had 
 cheered them in headlong charge until recalled 
 to himself and duties that bade him sheathe 
 the sword for the scalpel. Scorning to leave 
 his wounded, he had fallen with them into the 
 hands of the enemy and had starved with them 
 at Andersonville. Once he had been seriously 
 wounded as he knelt beside a stricken com 
 rade on the battle-line. Twice he had been 
 offered hospital duty at Annapolis and Wash 
 ington, and declined. From one end of the 
 war to the other he had been known among 
 the men as the fighting doctor, and the fame 
 had followed him to the far frontier, where in one 
 long and fierce campaign against the Sioux 
 he had spared himself no hardship that the 
 humblest soldier had to endure ; and the cav 
 alry swore by him, ay, and the lithe, sinewy, 
 hard-marching, hard-fighting doughboys too, 
 and loved him for the love he bore them. 
 With all he was a student of his trade and 
 gloried in it, but most he gloried that he was a 
 soldier. He looked it, lived it, deserved it 
 and everything the name implied ; but he had 
 one weakness, if weakness honest glory in 
 one s profession could be called. "I ve been 
 200 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 a soldier twenty years of my life. I ve won 
 the brevets of major and lieutenant-colonel on 
 the battle-field and colonel for the war, but 
 never have I been called or can I look to be 
 called anything but doctor. Here are your 
 paymasters, commissaries, quartermasters, fel 
 lows that never heard a hostile bullet whistle 
 or saw the smoke of battle, lots of em ; you 
 call them captain or major, as though they 
 were soldiers, but you snub, by God ! the one 
 staff corps that never leaves the fighting-line 
 when the fighting begins." 
 
 Now, the surgeon had come but lately to 
 Ransom. He had served but a few weeks 
 with the th, yet Truscott and Ray had dis 
 covered his sensitiveness and gladly hailed him 
 as colonel. Blake promptly followed suit ; but 
 when Mainwaring heard it, Mainwaring bris 
 tled. " What right s a d d doctor to expect 
 to be called anything but doctor ? he asked, 
 explosively, and he no more meant to be offen 
 sive, or thought he could be considered offen 
 sive, in his language than did the doctor in 
 claiming recognition as a soldier. And then, 
 as Mainwaring prided himself on never say 
 ing behind a fellow s back what he wouldn t 
 say to his face," and the Lord only knew 
 what he hadn t said to people s faces, what 
 did the major do, only that very day, but, in 
 attempted jocularity, pitch into the post sur 
 geon at the morning gathering of the officers 
 201 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 and try to chaff him about wanting to be called 
 colonel ! It stung the honest old soldier- sur 
 geon to the quick. It hurt him sore, and he 
 left the room disgusted. 
 
 And so, when from the lips of this tall 
 trooper came the title he valued, the post sur 
 geon fairly blushed, for he had been thinking 
 intently over the events of the morning, and, 
 if the truth must be told, was wondering how 
 he could get square with Major Mainwaring, 
 and here was a possible opportunity. 
 
 Obedient to his superior s nod, the hospital 
 steward went out, closing the door behind him. 
 
 "What is it, Hunter?" asked the surgeon, 
 kindly. 
 
 "I have come to ask, sir, if it would be 
 possible for me to return to my troop to-night, 
 and if the colonel could aid me in any way to 
 get a furlough of twenty or thirty days." 
 
 Colonel Council looked up, perplexed, even 
 troubled. Both requests were unusual from old 
 soldiers, and never heard of from recruits. 
 
 "I fear not, Hunter. You see, there are 
 reasons why you ought not to attempt to return 
 to duty yet ; and what can you allege as reason 
 for a furlough so soon after enlistment ? 
 
 "Urgent personal affairs, sir," was the an 
 swer, a half-smile twitching at the corners of 
 the handsome mouth. " Even a trooper may 
 have them, you know." 
 
 "Hunter," said the surgeon, after a rno- 
 202 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 ment s pause, "be advised by me. Don t 
 think of going back to duty for two or three 
 days yet, and don t let any one know you wish 
 to leave Ransom on any account, just now." 
 
 For a moment there was silence. The 
 soldier still remained respectfully at attention, 
 standing close to the door. The surgeon had 
 spoken impressively, earnestly, significantly, 
 and Hunter could not but notice it, could not 
 but realize that behind it there was some ur 
 gent meaning or reason, yet he persisted. 
 
 "I hope the colonel will pardon me," he 
 said. " I will not refer to the furlough again 
 until I can explain more fully, which will be 
 possible after I have talked with Captain Ray ; 
 but as to returning to the troop I beg that I 
 may not be detained here through another 
 morning." 
 
 The surgeon was seated in a wicker-bottom 
 orifice chair, which he twisted round and so 
 squarely faced his visitor, looking keenly yet 
 not unkindly into the pale, handsome face. It 
 was a moment before he spoke. 
 
 I thought you greatly appreciated those 
 morning readings," said he, at last. "I m 
 sure the young lady has done very much to 
 make hospital life bearable. 
 
 It was Hunter s turn to color, but before 
 he could speak he had to spring aside. Into 
 the outer hall came banging a burly form en 
 wrapped in cavalry circular. "Where s Dr. 
 203 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Connell?" brusquely demanded a loud, un 
 modulated voice, then slap-bang, with all his 
 characteristic impetuosity, Mainwaring burst 
 into the room. 
 
 Direct as ever, never noting or caring who 
 was present, he went straight to the point. 
 " Hullo, doc !" said he, loud, gruff, yet hearty. 
 "Just the man I m looking for. Say, Trus- 
 cott tells me I hurt your feelings this morning, 
 and I ve come to pologize. I didn t mean a 
 d d thing. It s all right. If you want to 
 be called colonel, why, colonel it shall be. 
 I ll issue orders calling the attention of the 
 whole command to it, if you like." 
 
 And then for the first time he became aware 
 of the tall soldier, now trying to slip quietly 
 behind him so as to leave the room. Main- 
 waring whirled on him in a trice. Hullo, 
 you re up again, are you? Well, this man s 
 able to answer for himself now, I see, doc er 
 colonel ? 
 
 But the post surgeon had risen from his chair 
 and held up a hand appealingly. 
 
 "He is still a patient under my charge, sir, 
 and is not restored to health or duty as yet. I 
 protest 
 
 "Oh, you needn t protest. I m done for the 
 present. I m giving way to everybody this 
 evening, all on your account." Here the sur 
 geon signalled significantly to the soldier, 
 and, silently, wonderingly, Hunter withdrew. 
 204 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 " Tisn t only Truscott. My wife s jumped on 
 me with both feet; says I ve insulted you, 
 done nothing but make enemies ever since I 
 came into the th. Why, I ve been catching 
 it right and left, doc colonel ; haven t had a 
 moment s peace. What d ye think that dash- 
 dashed long-legged lath of a man Blake says 
 to me, not an hour ago, begad ? I asked him 
 if he thought you had any right to feel offended, 
 and he said if you didn t it was only because 
 everybody agreed that no notice was to be 
 taken of anything I ever said. I never know 
 whether he s in earnest or joking. If I thought 
 he meant what he said, by God, he d be in 
 arrest this minute. 
 
 Again the post surgeon held up a warning 
 hand. * Pray do not speak quite so loud, 
 Mainwaring," said he. "Some of my pa 
 tients are trying to sleep. I beg you will think 
 no more of this morning s incident. What 
 you have said is more than sufficient. I am 
 possibly hypersensitive." 
 
 And then it was the doctor s turn to be ab 
 ruptly silenced. For a second time the outer 
 door was hurriedly opened, silvery voices and 
 soft laughter were heard in the corridor, and 
 then, marshalled by Blake, there at the en 
 trance stood Mrs. Mainwaring, and behind her, 
 silent and a trifle pale and anxious-looking, 
 Kate Leroy. 
 
 "I knew he d be coming right over here," 
 205 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 laughed Mrs. Mainwaring. "But, really, Col 
 onel Connell, my husband is even more im 
 petuous in rushing to make amends than he 
 is in treading on people s tender spots. No, 
 don t go wandering off to the wards, Kate," 
 she cried, for Miss Leroy looked anxiously up 
 the corridor and showed a tendency to follow 
 her eyes. "Come, now, major, if you have 
 finished what you were saying to the colonel, 
 we want you to come home. Indeed," she 
 persisted, as she saw how angrily his eyes 
 were regarding Blake, "you ve got to come 
 and make your peace with us now, for you 
 were simply unbearable all through dinner, 
 and we had to ask Captain Blake to escort us 
 in search of you." Then, as Mainwaring still 
 held back as though striving to speak, she 
 seized his arm. "Come. Indeed," lowering 
 her voice, I must speak with you before you 
 go any further in that case." And then did 
 Connell feel sure she spoke of Hunter. 
 
 An instant later he was surer still, for in 
 came an attendant, alarm on his face. 
 
 Did the post surgeon give Hunter permis 
 sion to leave hospital? He s picked up his 
 coat and gone, sir." 
 
 Outside the moon was shining brightly on 
 the glistening snow. Objects were plainly vis 
 ible over one hundred yards away. Main- 
 waring sprang to the door with excitement in 
 his eyes and flew to the porch, the others fol- 
 206 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 lowing, in every stage of astonishment. Out 
 side the gate, as luck would have it, was march 
 ing a relief of the guard, the men swinging 
 rapidly by in their heavy winter dress, the car 
 bine butts grasped in their fur-gloved hands, 
 the gleaming barrels tossed over the shoulder. 
 Over towards the trader s store a tall, slender 
 form in soldier s overcoat was rapidly striding. 
 Mainwaring s voice rang out with the force and 
 volume of a trombone. " Halt your relief, 
 corporal ! Catch that man over yonder, quick, 
 and bring him here. 
 
 Astonished, the corporal obeyed. "Relief, 
 halt !" he ordered. "Come with me, two of 
 you." Then away he rushed. "Halt! Halt, 
 you !" were the next shouts, and all in a mo 
 ment they had overhauled the offending sol 
 dier. There was brief parley, and then back 
 they came, the unresisting prisoner between 
 the two members of the guard. 
 
 " Oh," almost whimpered Mrs. Mainwaring, 
 "do hear Captain Blake first. He s sure 
 
 there s some mistake " then broke off 
 
 short with exclamation of amaze. From the 
 lips of Kate Leroy, too, there burst a stifled 
 cry, for there before them, his clear-cut, re 
 fined face perfectly outlined in the brilliant 
 moonlight, there, clad in the rough garb of a 
 private soldier, stood the courteous, helpful, 
 distinguished-looking stranger of the night of 
 the collision. 
 
 207 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Mainwaring must have had a love for the 
 dramatic. 
 
 " Corporal Rice," said he, deliberately, 
 "take Trooper Hunter to the guard-house and 
 confine him by my order on the charge of con 
 niving at the robbery and destruction of the 
 magazine. " 
 
 208 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 j]N the forty-eight hours that followed the 
 arrest and incarceration of Trooper 
 Hunter one excitement chased another 
 with such rapidity that it was hard to keep 
 track of them, and Mainwaring, with almost 
 a sigh of relief, welcomed the premature re 
 turn of old Stannard, to whom somebody (be 
 lieved to be Ray) had given the tip by tele 
 graph that the sooner he got back the better. 
 
 Take this infernal regiment and see what 
 you can do with it," said Mainwaring, despair 
 ingly. I thought I knew something about 
 soldiering, but there s too d d much individ 
 uality in the th for me. * 
 
 And, beside Trooper Hunter s incarceration 
 on the charge of aiding and abetting in the 
 robbery and destruction of the magazine, the 
 senior major had the following matters now to 
 tackle : Captain Blake, in arrest for using in 
 subordinate language to the commanding offi 
 cer (" said that compared with my mental con 
 dition the magazine wasn t a circumstance in 
 the way of a wreck, begad, explained Main- 
 waring to his senior, who strove to keep a 
 straight face, but couldn t) ; Mrs. Merri weather, 
 disappeared since the night of Hunter s trans- 
 14 2 9 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 fer from hospital to guard-house ; Sergeant 
 Merriweather, transferred from guard-house to 
 hospital with a bullet through one lung and a 
 knife-wound in the other ; Corporal Croxford 
 and Trooper Elzey, deserted, two hitherto 
 shining lights of the garrison and admirers of 
 Mrs. Merriweather (could Mrs. Merriweather 
 have gone with either of them ? asked some 
 of the ladies, or with both ? asked certain 
 brutes among the officers) ; and, finally, Lieu 
 tenant Brady, back from a bacchanalian bout 
 with his kindred spirit Rawson, and now laid 
 by the heels in quarters with an Irish orderly 
 in attendance, for doctors would have nothing 
 to do with him. 
 
 The way Stannard sailed in was characteristic. 
 Brady had not been drunk on duty. He had 
 taken advantage of the absence of Atherton and 
 Stannard to relax the reins of his self-control, 
 but had only got a real good start when he 
 sought and received a seven days leave from 
 Major Mainwaring, which enabled him to meet 
 Rawson at Pawnee. This was about ten days 
 after the explosion. He was to have stayed his 
 week away, but in two days suddenly reap 
 peared in Butte, full of whiskey and informa 
 tion. Mainwaring, who knew him but slightly, 
 received a despatch saying that he had news of 
 most important character resulting from discov 
 eries he had made at Pawnee, and urging the 
 commanding officer to meet him at the railway 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 station on his arrival, which Mainwaring did, 
 and then the very next night ordered Hunter s 
 arrest. 
 
 "I always said that when Brady drank he 
 could be depended upon to make an ass of him 
 self," said Blake, "and this proves it." But 
 what Brady s revelations might have been Main- 
 waring refused to disclose. It was enough, he 
 said, to hang Hunter high as the hayman, and 
 the hay-contractor, in Mainwaring s opinion, 
 was the double-dashedest scoundrel that ever 
 lived. This statement so rejoiced Blake s 
 heart that he repeated it broadcast, and was in 
 the merriest of moods, until he heard that Main- 
 waring had forbidden Captain Ray s having an 
 interview with his imprisoned recruit. Then 
 Blake boiled over and made the odious com 
 parison between Mainwaring s brain and the 
 blown-up building which resulted in his own 
 summary confinement to quarters. Brady s 
 leave had still two days to run when Stannard 
 got back, but Stannard had heard enough of 
 his doings in Butte to warrant the immediate 
 action taken. An officer was sent with the post 
 ambulance and orders to fetch him forthwith. 
 Then and there Dana waited on him with the 
 major s message to the effect that he would give 
 him twenty-four hours in which to sober up and 
 face the music, and Brady had sense enough to 
 know he had no t ; :ae to lose. 
 
 Then another snarl had to be disentangled, 
 
 211 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 in which Stannard could not help, since it was 
 purely domestic. The veteran post surgeon had 
 had a flare-up with Mainwaring, all on account 
 of Trooper Hunter. The doctor protested 
 against his patient s being put in the guard 
 house, declaring that, no matter what the charges 
 were, he was entitled to humane as well as medi 
 cal treatment. Mainwaring said the man of his 
 own volition had removed himself from hospital, 
 and therefore deserved no consideration. The 
 doctor said if Hunter were kept in the prison 
 room with the garrison malefactors over-night 
 he would hold Mainwaring responsible for ill 
 results that were certain to occur, which stag 
 gered Mainwaring for a minute. He finally 
 compromised, ordered Hunter sent back to hos 
 pital, but put in a room by himself with a sentry 
 at the door and another at the window, and 
 orders prohibiting his being seen or spoken to 
 by anybody except the doctors and the steward, 
 unless it were himself or on his own written 
 order. 
 
 Then Mainwaring had to go home and face 
 the women-folk, and there for the first time 
 (Miss Leroy, shocked and stunned, having gone 
 to her room) did Mrs. Mainwaring have him to 
 herself and tell him of the identification of Hun 
 ter as the polite and helpful stranger of the night 
 on the train. Then furthermore did she add 
 her plea to the doctor s, and finally admit that, 
 much to her own distress and consternation, she 
 
 212 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 feared Pet was actually deeply if not indeed very 
 painfully interested in this mysterious trooper. 
 In justice to Pet, she must say that that young 
 lady was probably unaware of the feeling that 
 had been growing upon her until the denoue 
 ment of that evening. She, Mrs. Mainwaring, 
 had striven to wean her from the morning ser 
 vices, but without success, and now she knew 
 not what had happened, for Pet had shut her 
 self in her room and begged to be left undis 
 turbed. 
 
 Which was more than "Pet" would permit 
 the major to be next day, however, for she was 
 up and on the lookout for him on his return 
 from stables. He marvelled and was shocked 
 at the pallor of her face, the trouble in her eyes. 
 Without preliminary remark, she went straight 
 to her subject. 
 
 " Major Mainwaring, at what time and where 
 may I see Trooper Hunter, as you call him, to 
 day ? 
 
 "Well 1, I m sure I don t know, Kate;" 
 for the major, like many a lion among men, was 
 a lamb among women. I don t think you 
 ought to wish to see him." 
 
 " But I do wish it, major. Moreover, I should 
 be ashamed of myself if I did not." And the 
 reply conveyed all the more weight because of 
 the calm decision of her manner. 
 
 And so the first written order Mainwaring 
 signed was one to permit the bearer to visit the 
 213 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 prisoner Hunter, and at ten o clock that morn 
 ing, when, pale, calm, but resolute as ever, and 
 smiling still, despite her sleepless night, Miss 
 Leroy entered the hospital for the customary 
 reading, she sent the steward to tell Mr. Hunter 
 that she hoped he would be able to see her soon 
 after eleven, and then indomitably went on with 
 her self-appointed task. 
 
 At eleven-fifteen the post surgeon came, 
 silently gave her his arm, as they left the big 
 sunshiny ward, and led her to a door-way up 
 the corridor in front of which a sentry was 
 pacing, a sentry who halted and presented 
 arms as the doctor opened the door and ushered 
 her in. 
 
 It was that night that Merriweather was 
 brought back from town to the guard-house, 
 shot and stabbed as has been said. Mrs. Merri 
 weather had fled during the previous night, and 
 the sergeant had been missing since reveille. 
 It was the next night that Stannard returned 
 and had Brady hunted up. Then came new 
 labors and honors for Sheriff Conway, and this 
 time there were no troops to divide the honors 
 of the capture with him, for his prisoners were 
 deserters all, one from an over-indulgent hus 
 band, the others from a not too indulgent Uncle 
 Sam. Pawnee was the Mecca of the fugitives. 
 Thither had Mrs. Merriweather fled to a married 
 sister. Thither had Croxford and Elzey fol 
 lowed, after having remained to cover her re- 
 214 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 treat and settle matters with the sergeant, 
 which they had done only too effectually, for 
 Merri weather s days were numbered. 
 
 Two days later Stannard had straightened 
 out affairs at the post in marvellous fashion 
 (all save matters domestic, wherein, said he, 
 no wise man meddled), and the man to start 
 him on the right scent was that scapegrace 
 the Kid, whom he had disciplined time and 
 again in Arizona days and appreciated at his 
 true value. The Kid s derisive and explosive 
 laughter when told that Major Mainwaring had 
 ordered Trooper Hunter confined as accessory to 
 the magazine robbery, etc. , had been promptly 
 reported to Stannard on his return, and that 
 versatile young reprobate was sent for, marched 
 to the adjutant s office, and collared by his old- 
 time troop commander, for one of his several 
 enlistments the Kid had spent with Stannard, 
 and knew him well. 
 
 And this was what the Kid divulged. Eveiy 
 one knew he could use a lasso like a cowboy, 
 and Croxford had asked him, just for deviltry, 
 to join him and " some other fellers" in roping 
 the swell, Hunter, on the midnight relief ; and 
 he was going to, but happened to hear that 
 Merriweather was in it, and that set him to 
 thinking. He d heard the women talking 
 about Mrs. Merriweather s boasting that she 
 had made a conquest of the swell recruit, and 
 he remembered Merriweather* s black eye and 
 215 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 the rumor that it was Hunter "laid him out," 
 and the Kid scented mischief and backed out. 
 Then Croxford came and told him it would be 
 best for him to keep his promise, as he might 
 get the credit of it anyhow ; which prompted 
 the Kid to tell them all to go to Ballyhack. 
 But when Elzey and Hughes later came and 
 stumped him" to join them in a spree to 
 town that night, and displayed their money, 
 he forgot Croxford s threat in the prospect of 
 whiskey, and, anything for a frolic, started with 
 them, only to run foul of the patrol just across 
 the creek. 
 
 But the moment he heard of Hunter s being 
 hauled out of the stream after the explosion, 
 the whole plot dawned on him, and something 
 more ; for he remembered the stories of forage 
 and cartridges being sold in town, and saw 
 that it was planned to fix the guilt on Hun 
 ter, and, if not, to fix the crime of the assault 
 on the sacred person of a sentry upon him 
 self, the innocent Kid. Then Stannard would 
 have cross-questioned the two deserters, for 
 such they were, despite stalwart protestations 
 that they were only out for twenty-four hours 
 fun ; but detectives, ferreting their movements, 
 warned him to make no attempt. Merri- 
 weather might make an ante-mortem state 
 ment, but not these men. Neither would 
 Mrs. Merriweather "peach." She was in the 
 county jail, begging piteously to be taken to 
 216 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 her Danny, and declaring he and she were 
 only going to Pawnee to see her sister for a 
 day, and he must have been waylaid in town. 
 
 But while Stannard was waiting for Merri- 
 weather to regain consciousness and Brady to 
 become once more a responsible being, there 
 came still another witness, an old carpenter 
 and new citizen of Butte, who appeared at 
 Ransom, sorely troubled on account of a 
 friend there enlisted whom he hadn t seen for 
 many a day, not, in fact, since the morning 
 of the train-robbery, and had just heard of 
 him as having been arrested for complicity in 
 the robbery of the magazine. Stannard heard 
 his story, which was that the accused was a 
 man of means, a charitable, kind gentleman 
 who, just for a whim, had come out to enlist 
 for a while in the cavalry ; that he had helped 
 him, the carpenter, to a home and work, and 
 his wife to health, and his clothes and things 
 were all at his, the ex-tramp carpenter s, house, 
 and couldn t he see Mr. Hunter? Whereupon 
 Stannard said, "Come on," took him to the 
 hospital, and marched into the room, where, 
 seated in an easy-chair, was the invalid bene 
 factor, and with him the old surgeon and the 
 young lady. Dr. Jayne, it seems, had sud 
 denly discontinued his attentions to both the 
 patient and the nurse. 
 
 It struck Stannard unpleasantly at the time 
 that no one of them looked pleased at his 
 217 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 coming ; but men are obtuse. A woman would 
 have appreciated the impropriety of interruption 
 at a glance. 
 
 And even while they stood there, hesitant, 
 at the door, the steward came hurriedly to say 
 that Merri weather was conscious, and had asked 
 for his wife and a priest The two veteran 
 majors, trooper and doctor, hastened at once 
 to the greater ward, and Hunter, smiling, held 
 forth a long, thin, white hand. 
 
 The ring I left with you would slide off the 
 biggest of these fingers now, wouldn t it?" he 
 asked. "Miss Leroy, this is Mr. Murray, now 
 a resident of Butte, but a fellow-passenger 
 with us on the night of the collision." 
 
 Before the sounding of the retreat that night 
 and the boom of the sunset gun, Sergeant Mer 
 ri weather s soul had drifted away over the 
 dreary waste of snow-clad slopes and leagues 
 of prairie, but not before he had made clean 
 breast of all his trials, temptations, and down 
 fall. His vain, empty-headed, frivolous wife 
 was brought out from Butte, but proved scant 
 comfort to his dying hours. To Father Keefe 
 and Stannard, Blake and Ray, he told his 
 piteous tale, Kittie sniffling, sobbing, wailing 
 at intervals, but ever intently listening. One 
 extravagance after another had swamped him. 
 He used the money of the men s Athletic and 
 Dramatic Association, of which he was treas 
 urer. He stole forage from the stables and 
 218 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 sold it to a dealer in Butte to cover his shortage, 
 but, that not yielding enough, planned the rob 
 bery of the magazine, which took place, Crox- 
 ford and Elzey assisting, one furiously stormy 
 night. They v/orked the old ordnance ser 
 geant with liquor and got his keys, took out the 
 boxes of cartridges, revolvers, etc., and, lo ! 
 the wagon of their confederates in Butte failed 
 to come. It was beaten back by the storm. 
 They then ran everything to the stack nearest 
 Merri weather s stable and cottage and hid the 
 plunder underneath. Dawn almost surprised 
 them at the task. Luckily, the old sergeant 
 was made too sick to go to his magazine for two 
 days. They had arranged for the wagon to 
 come out the next night, and then to blow up 
 the magazine and so destroy evidence of their 
 guilt, but again there was failure ; and Merri- 
 weather was at his wits end when he heard the 
 colonel say that stack must be moved on the 
 morrow. Then, rain or shine, snow or sleet, 
 the wagon had to come, and then it was found, 
 too late to change the hour, that the swell re 
 cruit, Hunter, was on the very post that guarded 
 the stacks and stables, and would be there at 
 the very time they needed to act. So to rob 
 bery they were compelled to add assault. 
 
 The plunder was safely run off to Butte and 
 paid for at about one-fifth its cost and one- 
 tenth its value in a frontier city. They got 
 their money, and felt measurably safe so long 
 219 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 as Hunter remained in hospital, used up as a 
 result of the fearful contusions he had received. 
 But his wife had told them of her encounter 
 with and revelations to Hunter, and their fears 
 of discovery were such that Croxford and Elzey 
 determined to desert. The news that Hunter 
 was arrested as having guilty knowledge of the 
 whole affair was a thunderbolt. Now in self- 
 defence he would have to produce even a 
 woman as witness, and that woman Merri- 
 weather s wife. Twas Merriweather who bade 
 her go at once to Pawnee, whither Croxford 
 and Elzey followed. The three men were to 
 meet and divide their spoils in a certain saloon 
 in town. The first two demanded more than 
 their share. There was a quarrel, then a mur 
 derous battle. They took all he had and fled, 
 but, with fatuous blundering, had gone to Paw 
 nee to buy her silence, and there all three were 
 jailed. Hunter was an innocent man. 
 
 And when this was told to Mainwaring he 
 bellowed, " Then what in dash-dashnation did 
 Brady mean by his story ? For Brady* s story 
 was practically this. 
 
 That he and Rawson occupied a room to 
 gether over the one fine restaurant in Pawnee, 
 and one night they were having supper in one 
 box when a party of four railway hands came 
 into that adjoining, talking loudly about the 
 engineer of 783, old Jim Long, and the swell 
 that engineered the hold-up, how he had pre- 
 220 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 tended to be out there to enlist in the cavalry, 
 how he had tried to ride with and get points 
 from Long, and had two or three of his gang 
 on that very train all ready for business, but 
 was scared off by the fact that there was a car 
 load of soldiers. Then when the train rob 
 bery did take place they nabbed seven of the 
 followers after a long chase, but never got the 
 leaders at all. Why, one of them was right 
 there at the fort this very day, enlisted so as to 
 divert suspicion, and he was keeping his hand 
 in by engineering other robberies. That mag 
 azine explosion they had read about was all 
 his doing. 
 
 If Brady had not been addled he could 
 have remembered that Hunter had enlisted 
 before the train-robbery took place. But he 
 posted back to Butte, gave Mainwaring a 
 wildly exaggerated account of what he had 
 heard, vowed he could bring the men with 
 him next trip, and Mainwaring, already sus 
 picious, had ordered Hunter s arrest accord 
 ingly. 
 
 The fact that Hunter could not have been 
 connected with the robbery was pointed out to 
 Mainwaring as they sat in consultation, Stan- 
 nard, Mainwaring, Truscott, and Dana, in the 
 adjutant s office that night, Blake being still in 
 limbo, and Ray being excluded because he 
 had resented Mainwaring s refusal to allow 
 him an interview with his imprisoned trooper. 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 It was pointed out that Hunter s enlistment oc 
 curred some time previous to the train-robbery, 
 and none present happened to think of the fact 
 that he had asked for and obtained a pass the 
 very night before it happened. Then Brady 
 was sent for, and with him came his comrade, 
 still on leave from Winthrop, Mr. Rawson. 
 
 "You hear how completely Sergeant Merri- 
 weather s ante-mortem statement has cleared 
 Hunter, gentlemen," said Stannard. "Now I 
 suppose you are satisfied." 
 
 "As to that point, major, yes," said Mr. 
 Rawson, with preternatural sang-froid. " But 
 I understand you have ordered his release, and 
 he is to come here presently for his exonera 
 tion. Is that so ?" 
 
 "Certainly," growled Stannard. "What 
 of it?" 
 
 Well, first I would ask the trooper when 
 he comes to say where he was at the time of 
 the robbery of the train." And Rawson s 
 face beamed with the consciousness of calm 
 conviction of an erring brother s guilt. 
 
 Stannard nodded brusquely. Entirely un 
 necessary, Mr. Rawson," said he: "that has 
 already been settled. He has witnesses in 
 plenty three, at least, here at the post or in 
 town to establish where he was at that very 
 time. He spent that night and the morning 
 following at the house of one Murray, a car 
 penter in Butte. 
 
 222 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Brady and Rawson exchanged glances in 
 dicative of incredulity, but Rawson then went 
 on : 
 
 " In justice to my friend Mr. Brady and my 
 self, I ask that he be required then to bring 
 with him the silver-topped flask the steward 
 says he has there in his room this very day, 
 and explain where he was the morning of the 
 train-robbery, if not with the robbers." 
 
 Stannard snorted derisively, but sent the 
 order as requested, and just as the first call 
 was sounding for tattoo, Trooper Hunter, pal 
 lid, yet calm and self-possessed, and decidedly 
 prepossessing, was ushered in and stood pa 
 tiently at attention. 
 
 Stannard looked him carefully over, and 
 said, " Did you bring that flask ?" to which the 
 soldier calmly replied, 
 
 " I did, sir, rather unwillingly. * 
 
 " Why unwillingly ? 
 
 "Because," and here a quiet smile flickered 
 over his face, "it is hardly a part of a private 
 soldier s equipment. But it has only been in 
 my possession a few hours since my joining the 
 regiment, and I ve not had time to send it 
 away." 
 
 Then Stannard turned in his chair and glared 
 at Brady and Rawson. Well, what do you 
 wish to ask about this flask ? 
 
 Rawson rose deliberately. " First, that it be 
 placed here on the table where all can see it ; 
 223 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 then, that I maybe permitted to read this." 
 And he unfolded a newspaper. 
 
 Very coolly the soldier stepped forward and 
 handed the handsome toy to Stannard, who 
 gazed admiringly at it and placed it in the full 
 light of the lamps on the table of the com 
 manding officer. 
 
 Then, clearing his throat, the lieutenant 
 began : 
 
 "Among the passengers arriving in this city 
 from the East to-day is Lord Lunemouth, eldest 
 son and heir of the Earl of Lancaster. Lord 
 Lunemouth is travelling for his health, and has 
 been advised to seek the glorious climate of 
 California, but has met with unpleasant ex 
 periences on the way. His train was held up 
 by desperadoes in Wyoming, the passengers 
 were robbed, and his personal losses consisted 
 of some two hundred dollars in cash, a superb 
 watch, and a handsome silver-topped flask, the 
 arms of his noble house engraved on the stop 
 per. The latter he valued as a keepsake. 
 Here follows," said Mr. Rawson, "a descrip 
 tion of the arms. Here," said he, lifting the 
 flask, " are the arms and motto of the house of 
 Lancaster ; and now perhaps this gentleman, 
 whom I perfectly well remember seeing in very 
 different attire aboard the Pacific express the 
 night of the collision, will explain how he came 
 into possession of the missing flask of Lord 
 Lunemouth ?" 
 
 224 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Then Mainwaring s face was indeed a sight 
 to see, but the amaze deepened, broadened, 
 almost overmastered him, when, with perfect 
 composure, the strange trooper replied, 
 
 "With pleasure; though this is not Lord 
 Lunemouth s, but the mate to it. It was given 
 to me by a member of the house of Lancaster 
 months ago. At the time of the train-robbery 
 it was not in my possession at all. For further 
 information on that head I must refer you to 
 Major Mainwaring." 
 
 " House of Lancaster be blowed !" was that 
 veteran s explosive reply. * It was in my 
 house right here at Ransom at that very time. 
 Say, Rawson, you and Brady haven t had any 
 more sense in this matter than I have !" 
 
 *\ 
 
 635 I 
 
 15 22 5 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 REMARKABLE winter, from a cavalry 
 point of view, was that ; the first which 
 the old regiment spent at Ransom, but, 
 like many other things temporal and most things 
 military, it came to an end, and people looking 
 back upon it afterwards declared they were 
 rather sorry, after all, for there was so much to 
 make it vividly interesting at the time and to 
 form topics for talk in the weeks to come. 
 
 Sensations flattened out lamentably for nearly 
 a fortnight after the quashing of Main waring s 
 martial indictment against the swell of the 
 sorrel troop," as Blake described Hunter, and 
 when they reopened, about the height of the 
 holiday season, other names and households 
 than those herein mentioned were mainly con 
 spicuous, although Blake managed to mix in 
 more than one of them. Between him and 
 Mainwaring was patched a truce, based pri 
 marily on the latter s admission that he had 
 probably made a mess of the whole business, 
 but really couldn t be held responsible in the 
 face of such testimony as was offered by prom 
 inent officers of the th, Messrs. Brady and 
 Rawson. Then Blake apologized for compar- 
 226 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 ing the head of the junior major to the wreck 
 of the magazine, and peace with honor, though 
 not without difficulty, was established so far as 
 the men were concerned. It was, in fact, less 
 difficult than in the case of the women, for 
 Miss Leroy had, it seems, a very pretty will of 
 her own, that Mrs. Mainwaring could neither 
 bend nor break. Mrs. Mainwaring was of an 
 old and distinguished family, and so was Miss 
 Leroy, and the woman Miss Leroy most seri 
 ously affected was Mrs. Blake, nee Bryan, 
 daughter of a rather dissolute old ranchman 
 once well known about Russell. It stung Mrs. 
 Mainwaring that her niece should have, as she 
 said to her and whispered to others, so little 
 pride. The story spread in the regiment 
 through what was whispered, not through what 
 was said, and Miss Leroy, already popular, 
 became a hot favorite forthwith. 
 
 She had come to spend the winter, but as 
 soon as the holidays were over and her precious 
 post children had had their Christmas-tree and 
 other Christmas joys even before the new year 
 was fairly ushered in she returned from the 
 morning reading one day and found Mrs. Main- 
 waring impatiently awaiting her. There were 
 invitations for dinners, etc., extending a week, 
 even ten days, ahead, and Mrs. Mainwaring 
 wished to know which it was her niece s pleas 
 ure to accept, and was aghast at the reply : any 
 that might be acceptable to aunty up to Janu- 
 227 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 ary 5th, none for her after that date, as she 
 would then have to return to New York. 
 
 Remonstrance proved utterly useless. The 
 second week in January saw Miss Leroy, ac 
 companied to the station by most of the ladies 
 and a few of their lords, safely aboard the East- 
 bound train, with old 783 and Jimmy Long in 
 the lead. There were dozens of the children 
 there to bid her good-by. There were even 
 a number of enlisted men, with whom she 
 warmly shook hands before she took her seat 
 in the roomy Pullman. Captain and Mrs. 
 Blake, her devoted friends, went with her as 
 far as Omaha, where she was to join another 
 party. Mrs. Mainwaring fairly dissolved in 
 tears as they kissed each other good-by ; for, 
 after all, Kate was the daughter of a long-loved, 
 long-lost brother, if she was headstrong and 
 independent, and never yet had woman left 
 the dingy precincts of old Ransom so generally 
 and thoroughly esteemed. 
 
 But every one wondered for all that even 
 the many who would not give their thought 
 expression whether an understanding did not 
 exist, whether she was not going with the ex 
 pectation of meeting somewhere the remarka 
 ble recruit by the name of Hunter, for Hunter 
 had left on a month s furlough just ten days 
 before. 
 
 Mrs. Mainwaring declared that Kate s sole 
 reason for going was that she was too consci- 
 228 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 entious. She found her health restored (no 
 one remembered having heard of it as im 
 paired), and she felt she must return to her 
 kindred in the East and resume her interrupted 
 duties there. But Mrs. Stannard and other 
 wise women well knew that the main reason 
 for her going was that life with Uncle and 
 Aunt Mainwaring was not as peaceful or con 
 genial, despite their pride in and affection for 
 her, as it should have been. 
 
 And then there was still another and more 
 vital reason. " Everybody" was talking about 
 her interest in Trooper Hunter and his un 
 doubted admiration for her. But Hunter had 
 had to go back to duty with his troop, had met 
 Miss Leroy only on the long afternoons and 
 evenings when he, with two or three other blue 
 jackets, worked at the festooning and dec 
 orating, under her active supervision, of the 
 post assembly hall. Then he had had an in 
 terview with Ray, his captain, that brought 
 matters to a climax. He applied for and re 
 ceived his furlough in the midst of the holi 
 days, left his kit with the first sergeant, his 
 uniform with Murray, the carpenter, and Butte 
 in a snow-storm, the Pullman smoker, and 
 familiar-looking tweeds, travelling-cap, and ul 
 ster, at which Jim Long stared in astonished 
 recognition when, as he alighted from his cab 
 at the Junction, a swell civilian stepped up and 
 smilingly tendered him a cigar. 
 229 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Whatever clouds had lowered over the house 
 of Hunter were wafted away the night of that 
 decisive conference of the powers, when Stan- 
 nard and Truscott demolished the theories of 
 Mainwaring and the aspersions of Brady & 
 Company. Even Conway had limped out of 
 his buggy a few days later to say he, too, had 
 been fooled. (He was destined to be fooled 
 still more when a jail-delivery turned loose his 
 seven star performers on Christmas Eve.) Cor 
 poral Croxford and Trooper Elzey still main 
 tained their conviction of Hunter s guilt, until 
 Mrs. Merriweather weakened over her hus 
 band s death and confirmed his whole con 
 fession. The Kid was enjoying a temporary 
 relapse into virtue, and was wearing a halo 
 until pay-day. Mrs. Merriweather, bailed out 
 by Freeman, was living in temporary retire 
 ment in Butte, yet already beginning to "take 
 notice," and all Ransom was wondering what 
 Trooper Hunter had gone on thirty days fur 
 lough for, and betting two to one that he 
 never would come back, when he suddenly 
 came. 
 
 He had been gone but twenty of the thirty 
 days. He reported in person in the nattiest 
 of fatigue uniforms to Captain Ray just before 
 stable-call one sharp, clear January afternoon, 
 and in a brief conversation asked of his cap 
 tain that he would send to Miss Leroy a little 
 package he had brought with him from the 
 230 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 East, and was manifestly disappointed when 
 told that she had gone. 
 
 Then they probably had not met at all, and 
 Ransom was off the scent again. 
 
 Just what might have been the result of this 
 disappointment had matters remained in the 
 usual midwinter plane of monotony, cannot be 
 stated. What did happen was a sudden call 
 from the department commander, a sudden 
 demand for a strong escort to accompany him 
 to the Hills, despite the biting weather, for 
 sacred Indian lands were being invaded, and 
 only his presence could prevail upon the Sioux 
 to trust the matter of righting the wrong to him 
 and Uncle Sam. Him they trusted readily 
 enough, but shook their shaggy heads at men 
 tion of the Great Father. Let the Gray Fox 
 leave enough soldiers here to drive away the 
 would-be miners and prospectors, and they 
 would keep the peace." And so it was or 
 dered. March and April saw the swell trooper 
 deeply interested now, despite longings for 
 news from civilization, in daily contact with 
 and study of these warlike people, learning 
 their uncouth language, buying their furs and 
 bead-work, winning their good will by unex 
 pected gifts and straightforward dealing. May 
 came, and trouble. Congress was too busy 
 with other matters to heed the request of the 
 President that the recommendations of the 
 general commanding the department of the 
 231 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 frontier be immediately carried out. The 
 horned cattle and other supplies failed to ar 
 rive. The Indians said, "Sold again," and 
 scalped an attache of the nearest agency as a 
 hint of what might happen to the agent him 
 self if he didn t expedite those supplies. Mid- 
 May failed to bring the goods, but it brought 
 the grass, and that was enough. Storm-signals 
 had been set for a fortnight, yet the tornado 
 burst with sudden and shocking force. Five 
 hundred warriors swooped suddenly into the 
 lower valley of the Ska. Out went every 
 available man from Ransom, Rossiter, and 
 Winthrop, and there was war to the knife ere 
 the Gray Fox could interpose. 
 
 A "dandy" battalion was that with which 
 Mainwaring danced away that sweet May morn 
 ing, men and horses the pictures of health and 
 high condition and eager for the field and 
 the fray. Stannard with his four troops had 
 marched eastward for the lower valley, but 
 Mainwaring was to hasten to the Hills, gather 
 up the little force still in stockade at the nearest 
 agency, then sweep on down to join the others. 
 The telegraph line was repaired to Crested 
 Butte, where the mutiny began, and there came 
 this startling message just in time to meet 
 them : 
 
 " Sioux agency reports that Lord Lunemouth 
 and party of friends, twelve in all, including 
 guides, passed up the Ska en route to the 
 232 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 northern hills two days before the outbreak. 
 Use all means in your power to find and 
 protect them. Acknowledge receipt and report 
 action. 
 
 It was forwarded to Mainwaring by Ather- 
 ton, who said he was coming post-haste to 
 take command in person in that part of the 
 field ; meantime to lose not a moment, but do 
 his best. As usual, the call went out for Ray. 
 
 Two days later, away up among the pine- 
 crested heights, hot on the trail of a big war- 
 party of Indians the sorrel troop was pushing. 
 Mainwaring, with the three remaining compa 
 nies, was trotting down into the valley of the 
 North Fork to intercept and beat back further 
 parties should they be tempted to follow their 
 friends in the search for the unsuspecting tour 
 ists. Atherton, with the Winthrop battalion at 
 his heels, was coming across country to the 
 support of Mainwaring, while old Stannard, on 
 familiar ground, was rounding up stragglers 
 down the Ska, herding them back to the 
 agency, and eagerly watching for the coming 
 of the troops from Rossiter and the big posts 
 away to the north. Then the Indians would be 
 hemmed in. 
 
 But meantime what damage might they not 
 do ! There were no railways then save the 
 few trunk lines, no means, except by march 
 ing, to reach the fabled Indian lands, and Lo 
 was in his glory. Warned of their peril, set- 
 233 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 tiers, herders, and stockmen had taken to flight 
 and abandoned the lower valley, so the Indian 
 was riding, proud monarch of all he surveyed, 
 over the broad waste of the low lands, burn 
 ing, pillaging, and raising, as the newspaper 
 men first on the scene expressed it, " no scalps, 
 but much hell." If only good news could be 
 heard of those tourists, all might yet be well. 
 
 But what mad-brained trick could have 
 prompted so hazardous a picnic ? The agent 
 at Brule Springs swore he had done his best to 
 dissuade them, but there were three English 
 men who had never seen elk and were pos 
 sessed with longing to stalk and shoot them. 
 They were lavish with their money. Their in 
 terpreters talked directly to some of the old 
 chiefs, Thunder Eagle and Rolling Bear es 
 pecially, and the presents made these warriors 
 caused the Sioux to clamor for more, but won 
 a lordly permit from the crafty leaders to go 
 shoot what they would, the Sioux wouldn t 
 care, and so led them squarely into the trap. 
 Ray had found the debris of one of their camps 
 towards noon of the second day of his daring 
 march, and four hours later as he sped along 
 their northward winding trail he came suddenly 
 upon a deep cleft among the hills, away down 
 in whose depths trickled an ice-cold rivulet 
 where the tourists had drunk their fill, then 
 gone on up the opposite heights, and after 
 them, swift pursuing, a formidable war-party 
 234 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 that had evidently come up this tributary to 
 the Ska hoping here to find and intercept their 
 prey. 
 
 Men and horses of Ray s troop both were 
 weary. They drank eagerly, and some eyes, 
 already haggard, looked appealingly at the set 
 face of their captain. Forty-eight hours had 
 they come with but scant halt for rest, and 
 there was hardly a man in the party that could 
 not have slept instantly had he lain down on 
 that soft, inviting turf, all, perhaps, but the 
 indomitable leader and the tall trooper origi 
 nally of the centre set of fours, yet so often on 
 this second day riding side by side with, in 
 stead of following six yards behind, his com 
 mander, the place where the orderly is sup 
 posed to be. Scott, the young lieutenant, who 
 should perhaps have taken exception to such 
 favoritism, seemed to understand and object 
 not at all. " Hunter was up through here last 
 month with surveyor s escort," was the expla 
 nation, and, though some men might have 
 growled the information that other fellers 
 were along too," no one seemed to object, for 
 the reason that it was thoroughly known that 
 Hunter made topographical notes from day to 
 day and had them with him now, and it was 
 these to which Ray so frequently referred as 
 they hastened on. 
 
 Plainly enough had the captain seen the 
 symptoms of growing exhaustion on both his 
 235 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 men and mounts, the dark lines under the 
 deep-set eyes, the utter silence that prevailed 
 along the dusty little company, the painful 
 stumbling of the horses, and the constant 
 effort needed to keep closed on the head of 
 column. But he knew his men, and they knew 
 him. It was not the first by many times they 
 had been called upon to ride with life or death 
 the stake. Somewhere, not three hours ahead, 
 probably, was a murderous band of Sioux seek 
 ing to redress undoubted injuries by the only 
 method the Indian knows, the blood of the 
 pale-faced brothers of those that had wrought 
 the wrong. That these tourists had bought 
 the consent of their chief to hunt, camp, and 
 explore through the Indian lands, that they 
 were innocent of wrong-doing, that they de 
 spised the robbers of the red man as much as 
 the Indian hated him, had no bearing on the 
 case. These were white men rashly intrud 
 ing far within the Brule lines at a time when 
 the Great Spirit, through their medicine-men, 
 had sounded the call to battle, and high or 
 low, rich or poor, English or American, man, 
 woman, or child, it made no difference. That 
 fated party represented just so many coveted 
 scalps, no more and no less, and if Indian 
 strategy could compass their capture alive or 
 their destruction without the spilling of a drop 
 of Indian blood, all the more would their war 
 rior band receive the acclamations of a tribe 
 236 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 that worshipped prowess like unto that of thfe 
 prairie wolf or fleet-footed fox. Ninety strong, 
 led by a daring young chief whose father and 
 mother both had died when the soldiers of the 
 Long Hair dashed upon their village some 
 years before, they had cut loose from all bands 
 around the Ska, and hastened in search of the 
 white invaders guaranteed by old Rolling Bear 
 safe-conduct not a week before. 
 
 And unerringly their instinct led them to the 
 lovely park country on the north side of the 
 hills, for there was noble game in profusion. 
 Thither must the lordly whites have gone, rich 
 in horses, arms, stores, and provisions of every 
 kind, and for months the Sioux were starving. 
 
 It was the sight of the fresh hoof-prints of 
 fourscore ponies that settled all question of rest 
 at the rivulet in the mind of Captain Ray. 
 " Men," said he, " I hate to wear you out, but 
 before another sunrise we must circumvent 
 these fellows, or it s all up with the tourists." 
 
 There were Irish troopers in the leading 
 four who loved to talk of the Clan-na-Gael and 
 Home Rule for Erin and death to " England s 
 cruel red" when time hung heavy on their 
 hands in camp or barrack. But that seemed 
 all forgotten now. Like the famous Mavericks, 
 they only talked of mutiny when no other fight 
 ing was to be done. Only the horses seemed 
 to groan at the command to mount, and once 
 more on went the Sorrels au secours. 
 237 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 An hour after nightfall, in the bright light of 
 the climbing moon, they had splashed through 
 another shallow, foaming stream in another 
 and narrower rift among the hills, two veteran 
 sergeants, with Ray and Hunter, well out in 
 front, when just as the foremost, a shadowy 
 form, rode warily to a little point of bluff three 
 hundred yards ahead, Ray s gauntleted hand 
 swung high his scouting hat in air, as half 
 turning in saddle he signalled " Halt !" for the 
 leading rider was gesticulating wildly, and Ser 
 geant Conners came galloping back. 
 
 "Treed em, by God, sir!" he cried, in ex 
 citement irrepressible. " They ve stopped for 
 a scalp-dance. You can hear em plain." 
 
 Yes, faint, but distinct, beating quicker every 
 minute, the weird throb of the war-drum could 
 be heard, and with it the shrill whoop and yell 
 of excited dancers. 
 
 "Then you re right, Hunter," promptly 
 spoke the captain. "That can mean only 
 one thing. They ve located the party over in 
 Keogh s Park, just where you said they d pitch 
 their camp, and these beggars mean to jump 
 them at dawn. We ll show em a trick worth 
 ten of that, won t we, Dixie?" he continued, 
 patting the neck of the game little sorrel he 
 rode. "What blessed luck that they should 
 stop to celebrate !" 
 
 Slowly, cautiously, the shadowy troop led 
 forward to a grove of pines not far from the 
 238 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 water s edge, and close to the sheltering bluff 
 beyond which the warriors were having their 
 jollification. There they waited, breathless, 
 the sound of revelry gaining every minute on 
 the night. Taking Conners and Hunter with 
 him, Ray crept forward to reconnoitre, he 
 and his sergeant veterans in the craft, Hun 
 ter a novice, whose heart beat wildly, but who 
 never faltered. 
 
 Fast and furious drove the dance. Loud and 
 shrill arose the whoops and war-cries, dying 
 away at times like the yelp of prairie wolves to 
 faint and distant gurgling, then swelling again 
 like the chorus of hounds in full view of the 
 quarry. Drum, rattle, and piercing whistle 
 added to the clamor, echoed back from the 
 dark, pine-crested cliffs that overhung this wild 
 nook in the hills. Fresh fagots heaped upon 
 the fire threw the dusky, writhing forms, re 
 splendent in war-bonnet and savage finery, 
 into bold relief, and Ray s brave heart almost 
 sank within him as he counted. Ponies they 
 could not see, for they were herded farther up 
 the cove beyond the fire, but every indication 
 pointed to there being well-nigh a hundred 
 well-armed warriors right there within revolver- 
 shot, while others, doubtless, hovered like 
 watchful spies about the unsuspecting camp 
 beyond the range. 
 
 We could never get past them without 
 discovery," muttered the captain, finally. 
 239 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 "We re far too few to drive them. How far 
 is it back down the valley and around to the 
 park?" 
 
 Not less than forty miles, sir, answered 
 Hunter, "though it can t be more than six 
 or seven over the old game trail across the 
 range. 
 
 "Then," said Ray, "there s nothing for it 
 but to send a brace of men up the heights 
 afoot to warn the camp before daybreak, while 
 the troop hangs on to their heels." 
 
 It was barely nine o clock now, and high 
 aloft on the northern side of the gorge, glisten 
 ing white, the cliffs broke through the sombre 
 fringe of pine and shone like silver in the 
 moonlight. Somewhere ahead of the watchers 
 in the black depths of the westward end of the 
 deep ravine an old game trail wound and 
 twisted up the mountain side over into the 
 beautiful park beyond. Hunter well remem 
 bered and had traced it in his notes. Over 
 this trail Lord Lunemouth s joyous party had 
 evidently gone. Over this the Indian scouts had 
 tracked him. Over this the war-party doubt 
 less meant to follow in time to make their dash 
 at daybreak. Over this, neck or nothing, warn 
 ing must be sent, and the intermediate ground 
 was so completely occupied by the Indians that 
 cavalry could not hope to slip by undetected. 
 It could only be attempted by daring fellows 
 afoot. 
 
 240 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 And the first man to speak out when, in few 
 words, Ray explained the situation to the troop, 
 was that incorrigible rascal, the Kid. "I m 
 game to go, sir. * 
 
 Good for one, said Ray. 
 
 " Here s another, sir," "And here," "And 
 here," came in low tone from half a dozen in 
 the wearied troop ; but Ray waited for still an 
 other voice, until, half turning, he looked as 
 though inquiringly at Hunter, who had already 
 kicked off his boots and was pulling on a pair 
 of moccasins, drawn from his saddle-bags. 
 Then Hunter looked up and spoke. 
 
 "I, of course, sir. I m the only man that 
 knows the way." Whereat Ray s white teeth 
 gleamed in the moonlight, and the men knew 
 all was well. 
 
 Three hours later a strangely assorted pair, 
 a tall, slender, blond-bearded man, with clear- 
 cut, handsome features, and an undersized, 
 weazen-faced, devil-may-care Irish lad, dressed 
 alike in dark-blue shirts and blouses, in light- 
 blue riding-breeches and Indian-tanned leg 
 gings, girt with cartridge-belt and revolver, 
 and carrying the brown carbine in hand, halted 
 for breath at the very summit of the divide 
 between Keogh s Park and the deep gorge in 
 the southeastward hills. Perilous, indeed, had 
 been their journey. Leaving their comrades 
 well below the position of the Indian camp, 
 they had slowly scaled the cliffs to the north, 
 16 241 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 then crept along among the pines until imme 
 diately above the rejoicing Indians, and then 
 slowly and cautiously through the scattered 
 timber, followed westward by the stars until 
 at last in a depression they came upon the 
 trail, easily recognizable in the occasional 
 patches of moonlight. Then, eager and cau 
 tious, they followed up, up the winding way, 
 ever alert for sound of hoof-beat, until at last 
 they reached the crest and Hunter s watch pro 
 claimed it midnight. 
 
 From a rocky point they could see outspread 
 beneath them to the northward a beautiful park 
 country, faintly pictured in the silvery light, 
 and, laying a hand on his companion s sleeve, 
 Hunter pointed afar down to their left front. 
 
 " The springs lie just south of that high 
 butte," he murmured, "and there we ll find 
 their camp, if only we can dodge the Indian 
 watchers on the way." 
 
 Ay, there was the rub, and there was no 
 time to lose. Ever watchful, as before, they 
 began the gradual descent, peering from tree 
 to tree, flitting like shadows from rock to rock, 
 until at last they reached the lower limit of the 
 timber-line, and there before them lay an 
 almost open valley, two miles wide, destitute 
 of " cover" except along the stream that nearly 
 equally divided it, and up that stream, perhaps 
 two miles, some white objects gleamed in the 
 moonlight near a clump of trees, and there at 
 242 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Keogh s Springs, just as Hunter had predicted, 
 lay the threatened camp. 
 
 But how were they to reach it unobserved ? 
 for here and everywhere the Kid could point 
 out fresh pony-tracks, and even as they paused 
 at the belt of pines, away out on the slopes be 
 yond, hidden from camp by intervening rises 
 in the ground, dark forms of horsemen, three 
 or four, were plainly visible, and the Kid could 
 tell from old experience that nothing living 
 would escape those watchers eyes. 
 
 But up the slope the trees were thicker, and 
 again, though wearily, they sought their shel 
 ter, and slowly crawled from clump to clump 
 until towards three o clock they were nearly 
 opposite the sleeping camp, lying out there in 
 a lovely glade, barely long rifle-shot away. 
 
 Twice, thrice they had seen an Indian on 
 nimble pony, moving cautiously about, well 
 out of sight of camp. Time and again the 
 coyotes yelped and loud-mouth challenge was 
 bayed by suspicious watch-dogs near the tents, 
 but still the Saxons slept all innocent of danger, 
 and time was getting fearfully short. 
 
 " What s to hinder our crawling out as far 
 as we can go? then, if we re seen, shoot the 
 sucker that tries to stop us, and run for it," 
 muttered the Irishman. " It s the only chance 
 I see." 
 
 The moon was well over to the west, but 
 still so high her light betrayed every moving 
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RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 object in the open ground ; but, as the Kid 
 explained, there seemed to be no other way. 
 Down went the two flat upon their stomachs, 
 and the slow, tortuous process began. Before 
 they had made a hundred yards Celtic patience 
 gave out. "Damned if I can stand this," 
 said the Irishman. " There s not an Indian 
 in sight now. Come on. Let s run for it." 
 
 Suiting action to the word, the little sinner 
 was on his feet, and in another minute skim 
 ming away like a racer to the goal. 
 
 And then as Hunter started to follow he saw 
 a sight that made him thrill with dread. As 
 though they sprang from the bowels of the 
 earth, two Indians on swift ponies darted into 
 view, and bending low over their chargers 
 necks, lashing them to mad gallop, they fairly 
 shot across the resounding, turf-clad prairie, 
 swift and straight towards the scudding form. 
 
 " Look out, Kid ! Look out !" rang Hun 
 ter s voice in a yell that woke the valley. 
 Bang ! went the Paddy s ready carbine in re 
 ply. Dogs, coyotes, carbines, rifles, Indian 
 yells, and Saxon blasphemy burst upon the 
 silence of the night. An Indian pony plunged 
 and tossed his rider sprawling within a dozen 
 yards of where the Kid had turned at bay, and 
 Hunter, rushing to the rescue, had just time to 
 kneel, when two or three revolvers seemed to 
 crack at once, and the air was rent with fire- 
 flashes. But the soldier s aim was true, and 
 244 
 
Hunter knelt, and sent shot after shot at every flitting 
 form he saw. 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 one tall warrior toppled heavily forward and bit 
 the dust as Hunter sped on to his comrade s 
 aid. He found him clasping his hands about 
 his knee and rolling in agony on the turf. 
 
 "For the love of God, don t stop!" cried 
 he. "They ve smashed my leg, and I m done 
 for. There s a dozen to one of us." Dozen 
 or not, they were in for it now. Hunter knelt, 
 and, though his heart beat hard, sent shot 
 after shot at every flitting form he saw, until, 
 amazed at the vigorous defence, the Indians 
 seemed to haul away. Then up he lifted the 
 protesting Kid and lugged him full another hun 
 dred yards before again he had to drop him 
 and fight. Then once more, half lifting, half 
 dragging, he rushed him on, cheered by the 
 evidence that the Indians dared not come too 
 close and that camp was aroused and blazing 
 away. Luckily, the guides had quickly realized 
 what was up. Luckily, they reasoned that 
 there could be but few Indians in the immedi 
 ate neighborhood, for out they came three or 
 four to the succor of the burdened man, and 
 reached him only as, exhausted by his efforts 
 and by loss of blood from a wound hardly no 
 ticed when received, he sank, fainting, to the 
 ground, the Kid still pluckily swearing in his 
 arms. 
 
 And so, an hour later, when the Indians 
 swooped in force upon the camp they found it 
 thoroughly prepared, surrounded by hastily con- 
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RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 structed rifle-pits or breast-works, around which, 
 five hundred yards away, they dashed and 
 yelled and kept up their wild fusillade, but both 
 times they strove to charge three or four saddles 
 were emptied by the cool aim of the defence, and 
 then, to cap the climax of their discomfiture, 
 out from the foot-hills burst their old acquaint 
 ance the sorrel troop, "Laughing Lightning," 
 as once the Cheyennes had named Ray, cheer 
 ing in the lead. And the warriors broke for 
 cover, and kept in cover at respectful distance 
 until Mainwaring himself, a whole day later, 
 with his three comrade troops, came trotting up 
 the valley, and then they disappeared entirely. 
 
 But meantime there had been a meeting and 
 recognition little looked for. Four happier 
 Englishmen were never seen than Lunemouth 
 and the trio with him, for no other reason than 
 that for a time their lives had been in mortal 
 peril and they had enjoyed the unlooked-for lux 
 ury of a square fight. That exultation over, they 
 had had time to thank the American "Tom 
 mies to whose daring they owed it that they 
 were not massacred in their beds. Both troop 
 ers were wounded, the little fellow profanely 
 voluble, the tall one strangely silent. Over this 
 latter bent the younger of the first two English 
 men. 
 
 You are not much hurt, I hope, my good 
 
 fellow? You re Good God ! You?- 
 
 Gray ? I vow I heard you were dead. 
 246 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 A faint smile flitted about the bearded face, 
 and the prostrate soldier winced as he answered : 
 "And you, Rokeby, I heard you were mar 
 ried. 
 
 Even when Mainwaring came, it was useless 
 to resume trooper relations, for he found Hun 
 ter installed in the best cot the tourists owned, 
 the Kid, too, in clover, despite the pain of his 
 wound. The doctor said Hunter s hurt would 
 not soon heal, and Lord Lunemouth vowed that 
 both were his guests until they could be safely 
 moved, and rather plainly intimated to the 
 major that he considered one particular private, 
 at least, of more account than the battalion 
 commander, which was subversive of good or 
 der and military discipline. Then of course 
 Mainwaring had to hear the truth, already 
 known to Ray and rumored throughout the 
 Sorrels, that their swell comrade was even an 
 older friend of these swells from abroad. 
 
 "Then where in thunder was it I met you 
 before ? growled Mainwaring, in distinct sense 
 of personal injury, as he looked down into the 
 placidly smiling face of the wounded trooper, 
 and Blake nearly exploded with delight over 
 the cool response : 
 
 At the armory of my old regiment, when 
 the major was on recruiting service in New 
 York City. I had the honor of being on the 
 reception committee the night of our ball." 
 
 "Good God !" said Mainwaring ; "and yet 
 247 
 
RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 you look just like a fellow that deserted from 
 the Dragoons." 
 
 No, Hunter didn t rise to a commission. 
 There was talk about it, but he had acquired 
 other views. He is said to have remarked that 
 the "N.G.N.Y. would suffice in the future." 
 His wounds proved painful ; an honorable dis 
 charge was asked for and granted, and there 
 was a big time at the agency when he and the 
 Kid bade good-bye to their comrades and were 
 taken back to Ransom in an ambulance, the 
 Kid "rich beyond the dreams of avarice" with 
 the largesse of Lancaster, and Gray parted with 
 only after his promise to spend a month at the 
 ancestral seat that very year. 
 
 Later Hunter went East. The Blakes and 
 Rays heard from him frequently for several 
 weeks. He was once more under his uncle s 
 roof, once more in daily company with the be 
 reaved widower, now restored to partial health 
 and unexpected fortune since the tragic death 
 of his wife ; but when the hope of the house 
 of Lancaster went back to England, Lune- 
 mouth s lung in surprising working order, Gray, 
 who might have gone, declined. The Lang- 
 dons were still abroad somewhere, and Amy 
 wore no coronet. It had somehow dawned on 
 Rokeby that that coronet was an indispensable 
 adjunct to the engagement, and the glorious 
 climate of California had played havoc with 
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RAY S RECRUIT 
 
 Amy s expectations. There was some society 
 talk of Gray s going in search of that lovely 
 but disappointed damsel, and, "No doubt," 
 said he to a serious-faced, beautiful-eyed young 
 woman, with whom he was found limping along 
 the sands one August evening at the sea-shore, 
 " no doubt I should have gone and been re 
 fused again, but for just one thing." 
 
 "And what was that, pray?" asked Miss 
 Leroy, a quiver about her lips despite her 
 nonchalance of manner, for he had been her 
 shadow since he came. 
 
 This, said he, taking from an inner pocket 
 a worn little glove of undressed kid. " It was 
 dropped by my bedside when I lay in hospital 
 at Ransom. I have been looking, longing, for 
 the hand that lost it, ever since." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 249 
 

King, C, 
 
 iy s rec 
 
 RUF 
 
 K522 
 ray 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY