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4. A Perilous Undertaking



"Corporal," said the commandant, taking off his eye-glasses with a jerk, as he always did when he was about to say something emphatic, "there are the names of seven men who deserted last night. I want you to take command of a squad and follow them up and arrest them."

"Very good, sir," replied Bob.

"I don't know which way they went, or anything about it," continued the colonel. "That is something you will have to find out for yourself. I do know, however, that they went on foot, and that they are armed and well supplied with ammunition. I want you to capture them at all hazards--at all hazards, I say," repeated the colonel, bringing his open hand down upon the table with a ringing slap. "If you come back without them you need not offer any excuses, for I shall not listen to them. Arrest anybody you catch outside the stockade wearing a United States uniform, no matter who he is. There have been no passes granted this morning, and no one except the guards and the officer of the day has any business outside. That's all."

Bob saluted and hurried from the room. As he passed through the hall he glanced at the list he held in his hand, and saw that it was headed by the names of Bristow and Gus Robbins.

"This is about the easiest job I have had yet, and these fellows are just as good as captured already," said he to himself. "I know right where to look for them, and I wouldn't be in their shoes for all the money the paymaster had in his safe the last time he was here. They are booked for Leavenworth, sure.--May I go out, Willis?" he asked of the sentry at the gate; "I am acting under orders."

"That's all right," was the reply; "the officer of the day told me to pass you. You are going after those deserters, I suppose? Well, now, look here," added the sentry, after looking all around to make sure that there was no officer in sight: "you remember those mulewhackers who brought that freight here the other day, don't you? Well, Bristow and the rest have gone off to join them. I am certain of it, for I heard Bristow talking with them, and they assured him that the wagon-master would give him steady work and good wages if he would hire out to him. Bristow didn't hesitate to talk with them about it in the presence of a dozen of us."

"That was only a ruse on his part," said Bob confidently. "If I followed the trail of those teamsters I should have my trouble for my pains. I am going as straight toward Brownsville as I can go, and I shall have my hand on Mr. Bristow's collar before I have gone thirty miles. You may rest assured that I shall not come back without him, for if I do I don't know what the colonel will say to me." Bob hastened toward the place where the horses were picketed, and there he found the officer of the day and the six picked men who had been detailed to accompany him. It was the work of but a few minutes to lead their horses into the fort and put the saddles and bridles on them; and when this had been done, and Bob and his men had secured their carbines, sabres and revolvers and put two days' rations in their haversacks, they mounted and rode through the gate at a sharp trot. They were quiet and orderly enough as long as they remained within sight of the fort, but when the first ridge over which they passed shut them out from view they abandoned their efforts to keep in column, threw off all restraint and shouted and sang at the top of their voices. They looked upon an expedition like this as a "lark," and enjoyed it as much as a schoolboy enjoys a picnic.

Bob did not stop at the first ranches he passed, for he knew that the deserters (provided, of course, that they had fled along that trail) must have gone by them in the night, and that consequently their inmates could give him no information. Besides, Bob had learned by experience that there was very little confidence to be placed in anything the ranchemen might say regarding a deserter. A good many of them had served in the army during the war, and, knowing how very hard is the life a soldier leads, they sympathized with him in his efforts to escape, and aided him by every means in their power. Where there was one farmer or stock-raiser who would give a squad like Bob's any information that could be relied on, there were a dozen who would conceal the deserter in their houses and send his pursuers off on the wrong trail.

After Bob and his troopers had ridden about fifteen miles, and had shouted and sung off a little of their surplus enthusiasm, they relapsed into silence and settled down to business. They halted on the top of every ridge to survey the country before them, and called at every ranche that lay along their route; but nothing was to be seen or heard of Bristow and his party. About noon they came within sight of a squatter's cabin, and Bob decided to stop there and eat dinner. The owner of the cabin was at home, and he welcomed the horsemen with every appearance of cordiality.

"Alight an' hitch, strangers," said he, when he had succeeded in quieting the small army of dogs which came out from under the cabin to dispute the further advance of the troopers. "You're as welcome as the flowers in May."

"Thank you," said Bob as he swung himself from his saddle. "We intend to stop here and rest for an hour or so. We'll boil our coffee and cook our rations on your stove, if you have no objections."

"I ain't got no stove," replied the squatter hastily--"leastways, none that you can do cookin' on," he added, with some confusion, when he saw Bob and one or two of his men look up at the stovepipe which projected above the roof.

"All right!" replied the corporal, silencing by a look one of the troopers who was about to say something. "Then we shall have to build a fire outside; but that will do just as well, for we are used to cooking our grub in that way.--Now, Carey, if you and Loring will skirmish around and find some wood and start the coffee-pot going, we will look out for your nags."

"Corporal," whispered one of the troopers, "there's a bug under that chip. In other words, this old rascal has some reason for wishing to keep us out of his cabin."

"Say nothing out loud," replied Bob with a warning gesture. "We are on the right track, and I know it. If we fail now, it will be through our own blundering."

Having seen the horses staked out, Bob walked back to the cabin, and found the squatter in conversation with Carey and Loring. His first words indicated that he had been trying to pump them, but without success.

"Say, soldier, where might you be a-travellin' to?" he asked as Bob came up. "I asked them two fellows, an' they told me I had better ask you."

"We are looking for seven deserters who passed this way some time this morning," answered Bob. "They were on foot and carried carbines. Seen anything of such a party?"

The squatter brought his hands together with a loud slap before he replied.

"I jest knowed them fellows wasn't what they allowed they was," said he. "In course I seed 'em, an' they told me they was a-lookin' for deserters themselves. They went off that way, toward the old Brazos trail," added the squatter, pointing in a direction which lay exactly at right angles with the course Bob had been pursuing.

"Did they?" exclaimed the corporal with a great show of eagerness. "Thank you for the information. We will go that way too as soon as we have eaten dinner. How long ago did they pass this way?"

"Jest at daylight."

"That's another lie," said Bob to himself. "They didn't desert until after midnight, and they couldn't have travelled between fifteen and twenty miles in less than five hours on foot. An infantryman might do it on a pinch, but a trooper couldn't."

"You'll have to hurry up if you want to ketch 'em," continued the squatter, who seemed to grow nervous when he saw how deliberately the troopers went about their preparations for dinner. "They was a-lumberin' along right peart."

"Oh, there's no need that we should throw ourselves into a perspiration," replied Bob indifferently. "We don't care if we don't find them for a week. You see, when we are out on an expedition like this we are not obliged to drill, and our pay goes on just the same. If you have anything good to eat, trot it out; we're wealthy."

But the squatter protested that he had nothing in his cabin except bacon and crackers, and his supply of these necessary articles was so small that he could not possibly spare any of it. He said so much on this point that the troopers would have been dull indeed if they had not suspected something.

"He wants to get us away from here, doesn't he?" said Carey as soon as he had a chance to speak to Bob. "He thinks that if he provides us with a good dinner we will spend a long time in eating it. Now, corporal, I will bet you anything you please that--"

"I know," interrupted Bob, "and I want you to take a look into the matter at once. This is my plan."

Here Bob whispered some rapid instructions to the trooper, who winked first one eye and then the other to show that he understood them. Pulling his pipe from his pocket, he proceeded to fill it with tobacco, while Bob walked up to the squatter, and, taking him confidentially by the arm, said, as he led him out of earshot of the men, who had seated themselves about the fire,

"May I have a word with you in private? You see, I am an officer, and it won't do for me to talk too freely in the presence of those I command."

So saying, Bob led the squatter behind the cabin and began making some very particular inquiries concerning Bristow and his party: What sort of looking fellows were they? What did they say? Did they get anything to eat at the cabin? and did his friend the squatter really think they had gone toward the old Brazos trail? The man was very uneasy, and seemed impatient to go back to the fire again; but by holding fast to his arm, and plying him with such questions as these, Bob managed to keep him behind the cabin for about five minutes, and that was long enough for Carey to carry out the orders that had been given him.

As soon as Bob and the squatter disappeared around the corner of the cabin, Carey put his pipe into his mouth, and, enjoining silence upon his comrades by shaking his fore finger at them, he quickly mounted the steps that led to the porch and walked into the cabin. As he did so there was a faint rustling in one corner of the room, and, looking over his left shoulder without turning his head, Carey saw a man who was lying on a rude couch draw a blanket quickly over his face. In his eagerness to conceal his features the man probably forgot that he had a pair of feet, for he pulled the blanket up a little too high.

"Aha! my fine lad," said the trooper as he noiselessly opened the stove-door and looked into it, as if he were searching for a live coal with which to light his pipe, "I see a pair of No. 12 army brogans, and also the lower portions of a pair of light blue breeches with a yellow stripe down the seams. Bryant, my boy, that's you. I see also that this stove is in perfect order, but as there are no coals in it, I'll have to get a light at the fire outside."

When Carey came out of the cabin his comrades' faces were full of inquiry, but the trooper only winked at them and nodded his head, as if to say that he could tell something that would astonish them if he only felt so disposed.

By this time dinner was ready, and Loring's loud call of "Coffee!" brought Bob and the squatter from behind the cabin. The latter accepted Loring's invitation to drink a cup of coffee with "the boys," but he disposed of it in great haste, hot as it was, as if he hoped by his example to induce them to do likewise. But Bob and his companions were in no hurry. They lingered a long time over their homely meal, and then the smokers were allowed to empty a pipe apiece before the order was given to "catch up." The squatter began to breathe easier after that, and when he saw the troopers in their saddles and ready to start, his delight was so apparent that they all noticed it.

"Wa'l, good-bye, if you must go," said he cheerily. "Will you stop when you come back?"

"Oh, you needn't expect to see us here again," said Bob. "If we go to Brazos City, we shall take a short cut across the country when we return to the fort."

"That's where I reckon they're goin', as I told you; an' my advice would be for you to go straight to Brazos, without stoppin' on the way, an' when they get there you'll be all ready to take 'em in. See?"

"Yes, I see," answered Bob, "and it's something worth thinking of.--Forward, column left! Trot! gallop!"

The troopers moved rapidly away from the cabin, and, to the intense surprise and indignation of all his followers, who thought that their corporal had been deceived by the squatter, Bob led them off toward the old Brazos trail. At length one of them ventured to remonstrate.

"Corporal," said he, "you're going wrong."

"I know it," answered Bob.--"Carey, tell us what you saw in that cabin. Were our suspicions correct?"

"Indeed they were," was Carey's reply. "In the first place, that stove was all right, but the squatter didn't want us to use it, for Bryant was hiding in the cabin. He was lying on the floor, covered up with a blanket."

"How do you know it was Bryant?" asked Bob. "Did you see his face?"

"No, I didn't; it was concealed by the blanket. I saw his feet," said Carey; and his answer was received by the troopers with a sigh of satisfaction. It was all that was needed to establish the identity of the man who had taken refuge in the squatter's cabin.

"I didn't think I could be wrong," observed Bob, "for that man condemned himself before we had been in his presence ten minutes."

"Why don't you go back and snatch Bryant?" demanded one of the troopers, seeing that the corporal did not slacken his pace. "Why didn't you do it while we were at the cabin?"

"Because I had no right to do it," answered Bob. "If I should go to searching houses, I might get myself into trouble with the colonel. Another thing, boys: I shouldn't care to enter that man's castle to look for anything unless I was a civil officer and armed with a search-warrant. He is a hard one, unless his looks belie him."

"I thought so myself," said Loring. "But you are not going back without Bryant, are you? What do you suppose he is doing there, anyway?"

"Of course I shall not go back without him," answered Bob quietly. "He has probably hired out to that squatter, and we must watch our chance and catch him out of doors before we can arrest him."

"Well, are you going to Brazos City?"

"Not by a long shot. Bristow and the fellows who are still with him have not gone that way. As soon as we get behind that belt of post-oaks you see in advance of us, I intend to circle around and go back toward the river again."

Although the troopers rode at a rapid gait, it took them nearly three hours to carry out this programme. At the end of that time they struck the old stage-road, which, in the days gone by, had served as a highway between Brownsville and some of the remote frontier-towns; but when the raiders forced the settlements back into the interior the stage-route was abandoned, and all that now remained to tell of the business that had once been done on it were the half-ruined stations which were scattered along the road at intervals of fifteen or twenty miles.

These stations were built of stone, and were large enough to accommodate a dozen horses and half as many stable-men and drivers, besides the necessary food for both men and animals. Each station was provided with a "dug-out," a miniature fort, into which the employees of the route could retreat in case they were attacked by hostile Indians or Mexican raiders. It was simply a cellar of sufficient size to shelter nine or ten men at close quarters, covered with logs and dirt, and furnished with loopholes on all sides at the height of a foot or more above the ground. It looked like a mound of earth supported on logs about two feet high. The only way of getting into one of these little fortifications was through an underground passage-way which led from the stables. With these arrangements for their defence a few well-armed and determined men could hold their own against all the raiders that could get around them.

About four o'clock in the afternoon Bob and his troopers came within sight of one of these stations, and as soon as their eyes rested upon it they drew up their horses with a jerk, at the same time uttering exclamations of astonishment and delight. Standing in front of the open door were several men dressed in the uniform of the regular army. They seemed to be holding a consultation, and so deeply engrossed were they with their deliberations that they did not notice the approach of the troopers, although the latter had stopped their horses on the summit of a high ridge in plain view of them.

"I wonder if those are our men?" said Carey, with some excitement in his tones.

"We shall soon know," was Bob's calm reply. "Whoever they are, they will have to give an account of themselves, for I am instructed to arrest everybody I meet wearing a uniform."

"If they are our fellows, we've got them corralled," remarked Loring.

"Yes, but I don't much like the way we have 'corralled' them," returned Carey. "Do you see that dug-out about twenty yards from the northwest corner of the station? If they go in there they can laugh at us. The only way we could get them out would be to starve them out."

"That would take too long," said Bob; and the tone in which the words were uttered made his comrades look at him with some curiosity. "Let's go down there and interview them, and then we shall know how to act. Forward! Trot!"

Just as these commands were given a commotion among the men in front of the station indicated that somebody had sounded an alarm. They gazed at the troopers for a moment as if they were thunderstruck, and then made a simultaneous rush for the entrance. This action on their part told Bob as plainly as words that they were the men of whom he had been sent in pursuit, and that they did not intend to go back to the fort if they could help it. A moment later a loud slamming and pounding indicated that the deserters were trying to close and barricade the door. This had scarcely been accomplished when the troopers dashed up to the station and swung themselves out of their saddles.

Leaving two of his men to hold the horses, Bob and the rest walked around the corner of the station and looked at the dug-out. There was a face in front of every loophole. Anybody could see that the deserters had the advantage of position, and the troopers wondered what Bob was going to do about it. They glanced at his face, but could see nothing there to tell them whether he was excited, afraid or discouraged. It wore its usual expression.

"Well, boys," said Bob at length, "if you have grown tired of roaming about the country, come out, and we will go back to the post. The colonel wants to see you."

"We don't doubt it, but we don't want to see him," replied a voice that Bob recognized at once. "We think we see ourselves going back! We didn't desert for that."

"Gus Robbins, I am sorry that you are in there," said Bob. "What will you say to your father and mother when you see them again?"

"Don't know, I am sure," answered Gus. "Haven't had any time to think about that. But you know yourself that I can't go back to the post. The colonel said that if I were ever court-marshaled again for desertion, I should go to prison; but I'll fight till I drop before I'll do that."

"Say, Bob," shouted another voice, "do you remember what I said I would do to that informer if I ever found out who he was? You are the fellow, and here's your pay."

It was Bristow who spoke, and as he uttered these words he thrust the muzzle of his carbine through the loophole in front of him. The chorus of ejaculations and remonstrances which arose from the inside of the dug-out showed that the rest of the deserters were not yet ready to resort to the use of their firearms; but Bristow was almost half crazed by rage and fear, and just as somebody seized him from behind and jerked him away from the loophole, his carbine roared, and Bob Owens turned halfway round and staggered back a step or two, as if he were struck and about to fall.

This unexpected act excited Bob's troopers--with whom he was an especial favorite--almost to frenzy. Believing that he had been seriously if not fatally injured--it did not seem possible that anybody could miss a mark of the size of his body at the distance of ten paces--one of them sprang forward to support him, while the others discharged their carbines at the loopholes in rapid succession. Their volley was not entirely without effect, for a loud yell of agony came from the inside of the dug-out, bearing testimony to the fact that one bullet at least had found a target somewhere on the person of one of the deserters.

STORMING THE DUG-OUT

"Cease firing!" shouted Bob.

He gently released himself from the embrace of the strong arms that had been thrown around him, and looked down at the gaping rent Bristow's bullet had made in the breast of his coat. The missile had passed through his thick carbine-sling and breast-belt, had cut into his coat, vest and shirt, and ploughed a deep furrow through a well-filled wallet which he carried in his inside pocket. Fortunately, it was a glancing shot, but the force with which it struck him was almost sufficient to knock him off his feet.

"I'm not hurt at all," said he as his men crowded about him, "but I shall have to put a patch on my coat when I get back to the post.--I say, there," he shouted, addressing himself to the inmates of the dug-out, "was there anybody hurt in there? I thought I heard a yell."

"Yes, and you'll hear another yell if you don't go away and let us alone," replied Bristow. "I'll make a better shot the next time I pull on you."

"All right!" said Bob. "I'll give you a chance in just about five minutes.--Loring," he added in a lower tone, "you and Phillips stay here and hold the horses, and the rest of you follow me."

"Are you going to storm them?" asked Loring.

"I am," was the decided reply. "It is the only way I can get them out, for they'll not come of their own free will."

"Then I sha'n't stay here and hold the horses; that's flat," declared Loring.

"Neither will I," chimed in Phillips. "The picket-pins will hold them as well as we can."

"All right!" replied Bob. "Stake them out, and while you are doing it Carey and I will see how we are going to get into the station."

The door to which Bob now turned his attention did not prove to be a very serious obstacle. It was made of heavy planks, and if it had been in good condition it would have taken a good deal of chopping with a sharp axe before one could have forced his way through it; but the hinges had rusted off, and the planks had shrunk to such a degree that the bar which held the door in its place could be seen and reached with a sabre. A few blows with one of these weapons knocked this bar from its place, and when that was done, the door, having nothing to support it, fell back into the stable with a loud crash. Bob entered, with Carey at his heels, and, making his way to a small apartment which had once been used as a sleeping-room by the stable-men and drivers, he found there a trap-door, which he threw open, revealing a flight of rude steps leading into the underground passage that communicated with the dug-out. By this time the rest of the troopers arrived on the scene. They looked dubiously at the dark passage-way, and then they looked at Bob.

"Do you really mean to go down there, Owens?" asked Loring. "It's sure death."

"I believe so myself, but I am going all the same," replied Bob, who was thoroughly aroused by the attempt that had been made on his life. "If we are not willing to face death at any moment, we had no business to enlist. Must I go alone?"

"Not much," was the unanimous response. "If you are bound to go, we are going too."

"Leave your sabres and carbines here," commanded Bob. "They will only be in the way. Draw revolvers, but don't shoot except in self-defence."

Bob knew as well as his men did that he was about to enter upon a very perilous undertaking. Bristow had shown that he was desperate enough to shoot, and he had even threatened that if he got another chance at Bob he would make a better shot than he did before. Some of the men who were with him were known to be hard characters, and it was very probable that they would back him up in the resistance he seemed determined to make. But Bob, having made up his mind as to the course he ought pursue, never once faltered. He was a soldier, and a soldier's first duty was to obey orders. He had been commanded to find the deserters and arrest them at all hazards; and, having obeyed the first part of his instructions, he was resolved to carry them out to the letter or perish in the attempt.

"Now I think we are all ready," said Bob, after the sabres and carbines had been laid in the empty bunks and the revolvers drawn and examined. "Stick close to me, and remember that if we don't take them they will kill us. Bristow, Sandy and Talbot are the only men we have to fear, and if we can only get the drop on them we are all right. Come on."

Although Bob was the youngest soldier, he was the calmest one of the seven troopers who descended those steps. When he reached the bottom he looked along the passage-way toward the dug-out, which was dimly lighted by the sunbeams which streamed in through the loopholes on the western side, and saw the deserters standing in line awaiting his approach.

"Halt!" cried a voice. "Come a step nearer and you are all dead men."

It was Bristow who spoke, and the words were followed by the ominous click of the lock of his carbine.