Lanier of the Cavalry

Lanier of the Cavalry, by Charles
King,

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Title: Lanier of the Cavalry or, A Week's Arrest
Author: Charles King

Release Date: October 9, 2006 [eBook #19507]
Language: English
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LANIER OF THE CAVALRY
or
A Week's Arrest
by
GENERAL CHARLES KING
Author of "The Colonel's Daughter," "Marion's Faith," "Captain
Blake," "Foes in Ambush," "Under Fire," etc.
With illustrations by Frank McKernan

[Illustration: "TELL HIM THAT I'D LIKE AN EXTENSION OF
ARREST." Page 143]
[Illustration: logo]

Philadelphia & London J. B. Lippincott Company 1909 Copyright,
1909 by J. B. Lippincott Company Published April, 1909 Printed by J.
B. Lippincott Company The Washington Square Press, Philadelphia, U.
S. A.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE "TELL HIM THAT I'D LIKE AN EXTENSION OF ARREST."
Frontispiece
"MR. LANIER, GO TO YOUR ROOM IN ARREST" 26
"BUT DO YOU MEAN COLONEL BUTTON ACCUSED MR.
LANIER OF THOSE LETTERS?" 195
LANIER OF THE CAVALRY

I
The sun was sinking low beyond the ford of the foaming Platte. The
distant bluffs commanding the broad valley of the Sweetwater stood
sharp and clear against the westward skies. The smoke from the
camp-fires along the stream rose in misty columns straight aloft, for not
so much as a breath of breeze had wafted down from the far snow
fields of Cloud Peak, or the sun-sheltered rifts of the Big Horn. The
flag at the old fort, on the neighboring height, clung to the staff with
scarcely a flutter, awaiting the evening salute of the trumpets and the
roar of the sunset gun.
The long June day had seemed unusually unconscionably long to the
young girl flitting restlessly about the vine-covered porch of the
roadside cottage. She laid the big binocular aside, for perhaps the
twentieth time within the hour, with a sigh of impatience, a piteous
quiver about the pretty, rosebud mouth, a wistful, longing look in the
dark and dreamy eyes. Ever since stable call, and her father's departure
to his never-neglected duty, she had hovered about that shaded nook,
again and again searching the northward slopes and ridges. The scouts
had been in three hours ago, reporting the squadron only a mile or so
behind. It should have dismounted, unsaddled, fed, watered, and
groomed by this time, and Rawdon should have been here at her

side--Rawdon, whom she had not seen for three mortal days--Rawdon,
whom, for three mortal weeks before the march, she had not missed
seeing sometimes several times a day, even when he was on
guard--Rawdon, whom she had never set eyes on before the first of
April, and whom now she looked upon as the foremost soldier of the
regiment, when in point of fact he was but a private trooper, serving the
first part of his first enlistment, in the eyes of his elders a mere recruit,
and in those of Sergeant Fitzroy an unspeakable thing.
Another long peep through the signal glasses, another sigh, and then
she came, this girl of seventeen, in her dainty white frock, and plumped
herself dejectedly down on the top step, with two very shapely, slender,
slippered feet displayed on the second below, two dimpled elbows
planted on her knees, two flushed, soft, rounded cheeks buried in two
long and slender hands. Away over at the stables she could hear the tap,
tap, of curry-comb on brush-back, as the First Squadron groomed its
fidgety mounts. Away up the valley the voices of the children in the
Arapahoe village rose gleefully on the air. Away up among the
barracks and quarters at the fort, the band of the Infantry was playing
sweet melody. Peace, content, and harmony were roundabout her, but
the dark eyes, welling with unshed tears, told of a troubled heart.
And then of a sudden the tears were dashed away and the girl sprang to
her feet. A blithe voice hailed her from within.
"Dey's comin', Miss Dora--two on 'em, at least--like enough to be twin
brudders."
The girl ran to the northward corner again and gazed out