Lanier of the Cavalry | Page 8

what had happened, and those inside
cared not to tell. Mrs. Sumter had hurried away the minute she learned
that her husband had gone. The colonel, sternly silent, led his wife to
their door, and there left her, saying he had summoned certain officers
to join him at once, and she, who ruled him in all matters domestic
almost as she managed the children, knew well that when roused he
would brook no interference in matters professional, and Bob Lanier, a
prime favorite of hers, had in some way managed to fall under the ban
of his extreme displeasure.
At the office were presently assembled the colonel, the adjutant, the
quartermaster, the post surgeon, and to them came Paymaster Scott. At
the "store," the only club-room they had in those days, were gathered
half the commissioned officers of the post. At Sumter's there kept
coming and going by twos and threes, from all along the officers' line, a
succession of sympathetic callers, who left even more mystified than
when they arrived. Mrs. Sumter was aloft with Kate and their guest,
and, as the captain civilly but positively told all visitors, "had to be
excused." One of the girls was "somewhat hysterical." Miriam had had
a fright in the dark on their return home and screamed. Something
foolish, probably, but none the less effective. No! Sumter thought Mrs.
Sumter would need no help, yet he was so much obliged to the several
who suggested going up just to see if they couldn't "do something."
Captain Sumter was a devoted husband and father, a capital officer, and
a gentleman to the core, but the captain could be just a trifle distant at
times, and this was one of them.
Another house was virtually closed to question. To the disappointment
of many and the disapprobation of a few, Bob Lanier had closeted
himself with his classmate and most intimate friend "Dad" Ennis; then,
after a brief colloquy with Barker, the adjutant, had caused a big card to
be tacked on his door whereon was crayoned in bold black letters

"BUSY." But at quarter past twelve the assistant surgeon, Doctor
Schuchardt, called, as was known, for the second time, and entered
without ceremony. When the officer-of-the-day came tramping along
the boardwalk at 12.30, and turned in at the gate, he struck the panel
with the hilt of his sabre, by way of hint that his call was official and
not to be denied. Ennis, therefore, came to the door, but came with
gloomy brow.
"I am ordered by Colonel Button to ask certain questions of Lieutenant
Lanier," said the official from the depths of his fur cap.
"How's that, Doc?" called Ennis, over his massive shoulder. "Can your
patient see the officer-of-the-day?"
"Not yet, with my consent," came the stout answer.
"Shout your questions, captain," sang out the patient, with much too
little humility of manner, yet Lanier knew Curbit well and knew his
mission to be unwelcome.
Therefore, in Captain Curbit's most official tones, ab imo pectore, came
question the first:
"Is Trooper Rawdon in hiding anywhere about your quarters?"
To which, truculently, came response in Lanier's unmistakable voice:
"He is not, if I know it."
"Do you know or suspect where he is?"
"Neither. And there is no reason why I should."
"Have you seen him--to-night?"
An instant's pause; then, "I don't know whether I have or not."
"You don't know?" exclaimed Curbit, puzzled and beginning to bristle.

"I don't know," repeated Lanier, positive and beginning to rejoice.
"Suppose the colonel tells me to explain that," began Curbit, but Doctor
Schuchardt set his foot down summarily.
"Here," said he, "this thing's got to stop;" and he came to the door in his
shirt sleeves, leaning half way out, with one hand behind him. "Lanier's
in a highly nervous and excited state. He has had a fall--and I'm trying
to get him to bed and asleep. He doesn't know--whom--he has seen
since he got home in arrest, and you can say so for me."
"All right Shoe," was the philosophical answer. "It's none o' my funeral,
and personally I don't give a cuss if they never find him, but there are
just s-teen reasons why the Old Man wants to see that young man
Rawdon forthwith, and as many for believing he's skipped."
"Then skip after him. You can track anything but a ghost in this
new-fallen snow."
Curbit lowered his voice. "That's exactly the trouble, doctor. Go to the
back of the quarters and see for yourself. His trail starts--and
ends--here."
In all its history Fort Cushing had never known such a day of
bewilderment as that which followed. Guard mounting was held as
usual at eight A.M., and Colonel Button, awaiting in his office the
coming of the old and the new officers-of-the-day,