going after the Indians. They gave us jus' o-one
drink--'piece. Jus' five minutes--go."
"How far away was this? Hware were they? Answer or, damn you, I'll
shake the truth out of you!" shouted Feeny, suiting action to word.
"Spake before you, too, are lying like that other hog. Did you ever see
the camp? Did you ever get to the crossing at all? Douse a dipper of
water over him, you Latham, quick. Wake up, I say, Mullan. For the
love of God, major, I believe they're both drugged. I believe it's all a
damned lie. I believe it's only a skame to get you to send out the rest of
your escort, so they can tackle you alone. Kick him, Murphy, kick him;
throt him round; don't let him get to sleep. Answer me, you scoundrel!"
he fairly yelled, for Mullan's head was drooping on his breast and every
lurch promised to land him on his face. Twice his knees doubled up
like a foot-rule and the stout little sergeant had to jerk him to his feet.
"Search 'em both. See if they've a flask betune 'em, Latham. Answer
me, Mullan, did you see the burned camp? Did you see the dead man?
Did--Oh, murther! he's gone! There's never a word to be got out of
aither of them this night. But don't you believe that letther, major. Don't
you trust a word of it; it's false as hell. It's only a plant to rob ye of your
escort first and your life and money later. That's it, men, douse them,
kick them, murther them both if you like,--the curs!--and they'd drink
when they knowed every man was needed." And adding force to his
words, Feeny drove a furious kick at the luckless Mullan.
"Do you mean there is no truth in this? Do you mean you think it all a
fraud, a trick?" at last queried the major. "Why, it seems incredible!"
"I say just what I mean, major. It's a plot to rob you. I mean the gang
has gathered for that very purpose. I mean that every story told us about
the Apaches west or south of here or between us and the Gila is a
bloody lie. The guard at the signal-station hadn't seen or heard of them.
They laughed at me when I told them what they tried to make us
believe at Ceralvo's. 'Twas there they wanted to have you stop, for there
you'd have no chance at all. Shure, do you suppose if the Apaches were
out--if this story was true--they wouldn't have heard it and investigated
it by this time, and the beacon-fire would have been blazing at the
Picacho?"
Then Murphy turned and ran around the corner of the corral to a point
where he could see the dim outline of the range against the western sky.
The next moment his voice rose upon the night air, vibrant, thrilling,--
"Look! God be good to us, major! It's no lie. The signal-fire's blazing at
the peak."
II.
Late that night, with jaded steeds, a little troop of cavalry was pushing
westward across the desert. The young May moon was sinking to rest,
its pure pallid light shining faintly in contrast with the ruddy glow of
some distant beacon in the mountains beneath. Ever since nightfall the
rock buttress at the pass had been reflecting the lurid glare of the
leaping flames as, time and again, unseen but busy hands heaped on
fresh fuel and sent the sparks whirling in fiery eddies to the sky.
Languid and depressed after a long day's battling with the fierce white
sunshine, horses and men would gladly have spent the early hours of
night dozing at their rude bivouac in the Christobal. Ever since nine in
the morning, after a long night march, they had sought such shade as
the burning rocks might afford, scooping up the tepid water from the
natural tanks at the bottom of the cañon and thanking Providence it was
not alkali. The lieutenant commanding, a tall, wiry, keen-faced young
fellow, had made the rounds of his camp at sunset, carefully picking up
and scrutinizing the feet of his horses and sending the farrier to tack on
here and there a starting shoe. Gaunt and sunburned were his
short-coupled California chargers, as were their tough-looking riders;
fetlocks and beards were uniformly ragged; shoes of leather and shoes
of iron showed equal wear. A bronze-faced sergeant, silently following
his young chief, watched him with inquiring eyes and waited for the
decision that was to condemn the command to another night march
across the desert, or remand them to rest until an hour or so before the
dawn.
"How far did you say it was to Ceralvo's, sergeant?"
"About twenty-two miles, west."
"And to Moreno's?"
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