Carl was very much depressed when he went into the teamsters’ quarters to get his supper. The men wanted to talk about the battle, but Carl wanted some information about his cattle. How long had they been there? Did anybody come with them? And did they run as though they were very much frightened about something? The teamsters answered these questions as well as they could, but they were certain about two things: nobody had been seen with the cattle when they came up, and they were running as though they had made up their minds not to stop until they reached the Mississippi River. But they were easily controlled, and the men who had been sent after them had no trouble at all in driving them back to the fort.
“Now, Carl, tell us something more about Page 382 the fight,” said one of the teamsters. “How did Lieutenant Parker behave, any way?”
“He acted as though there was not an Indian within a hundred miles of him,” answered Carl with animation. “He let his horse take his own way, and never stopped until we were a mile away from the camp.”
“Did he kill any Indians?”
“Every time I saw him pull on an Indian, he dropped. But he saved one Sioux from being killed, and that’s one thing I didn’t like about him.”
While Carl was engaged in telling this story about the Indian who was shot through both legs and had a knife left with which to defend himself, the bugle sounded, and that was something that Carl delighted to hear. He hurried out to get his horse, and when he came back the men were all drawn up in line and the captain was listening to some parting instructions from the colonel.
“If you see any signs of the Sioux out there, you will follow them up until you are certain that they go on their reservation,” said he. “Carl, I hope it is not as bad as you think,” Page 383 he added, turning to the young scout, who came up at that moment. “A boy who behaved as you did in the fight don’t deserve to have his ranch raided. Good luck to you.”
In a few minutes more the column, headed by Carl and the captain, were out of the gate, and the darkness shut them out from view. For miles they travelled at a fast walk, and not a word was said by anybody in the ranks. Finally Carl, who had been watching his horse for some time, stopped his own nag and reached out and touched the captain on the shoulder. There was somebody coming, and he was coming fast, too. In a few seconds more he caught sight of two or three hats which were bobbing back and forth in front of the horizon, and in response to the captain’s challenge they hauled up very suddenly.
“Halt! Who comes there?” asked the captain.
“Halt yourself,” answered a voice; and Carl was almost ready to yell when he recognized that Thompson was speaking to them. “You are soldiers, ain’t you? Have you seen any cattle down this way?”
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“Thompson!” cried Carl.
“Well, I declare; if there ain’t Carl,” said Thompson, so delighted that he could scarcely speak. “Where have you been?”
“I have been in a fight, but I am all here yet,” said Carl, riding forward to shake his men by the hand. “How did those cattle manage to get away from you?”
“You have been in a fight, have you?” said Thompson, so overjoyed to see Carl again that he could hardly let him go. “Well, you haven’t been in any worse one than we have. We’ve killed nine Indians, and have a prisoner up there to show you.”
“A prisoner? Who is it?”
“It is Harding—that is who it is. He came out to the ranch with twenty-five Indians to gather up some stock, and we were too many for him. He stampeded some of the cattle, but we whipped the Indians and drove them away.”
“That is the same thing he proposed to me while I was a prisoner,” said Carl, turning to the captain. “I knew that if I gave him an order on Thompson for the stock he would be Page 385 killed when he presented it. Well, he helped me to escape once, and you can help him this time.”
“Not by a long shot!” exclaimed the captain. “General Miles has ordered every soldier in his department to arrest that fellow, and he will have to go to the fort with me.”
“That is what I say, captain,” said Thompson. “He tried to rob our safe, too.”
“We will go back to the fort now and report to the colonel,” added the captain. “If he chooses to send us up there to-morrow, why we will get him. What are you going to do with your men, Carl?”
“They will go to the fort with us and be ready to come back with the cattle to-morrow. The soldiers and teamsters rounded them up for you, and I guess they are all there,” he continued, addressing himself to Thompson. “I am surprised at you,” he continued, when the captain had brought the men around and headed them toward the fort. “I am sorry I told you so much.”
“Now, Carl, see here,” said Thompson, lowering his voice almost to a whisper. “You Page 386 need not have him captured unless you want to.”
“How shall we prevent it? The colonel will send some men to the ranch to-morrow, and when they get their hands on him he is booked for the military prison at Leavenworth.”
“Look here,” said Thompson, lowering his voice so that no one but Carl could hear it. “I have six men with me, and how does this captain know but I have a hundred? Send Bert back and tell him to escape. I’ll bet you that they won’t see him after that.”
It would seem from this that Carl kept the ranchmen posted on everything that happened to him at the fort. When he came home after his captivity among the Sioux, he told them all that occurred to him—how Harding had threatened to shoot him because of the death of Sitting Bull, but had suddenly grown merciful to him when he saw that the Indians were determined to have revenge on him, and how he had assisted him to keep out of their way. Thompson felt kinder toward Harding after that, and so did all the herdsmen; Page 387 and when they found that Carl was anxious to have him escape, there was not one man who had a word to say against it.
“Well, go and tell Bert to come here,” said Carl, after thinking a moment. “You know what sort of a guard he is under, don’t you? Now you tell him how you will arrange it.”
Thompson reined in his horse, and was gone but a few moments when he rode up again with Bert at his side. In a few whispered words he told Bert just what he had to do, and he understood it. He was pulling up his horse to let the column get a little in advance of him, when Carl said earnestly:
“Tell him that this is the last time I shall befriend him. He helped me to escape once when I stood a chance of being staked out, and now I have paid him back. If he ever gets into trouble with the soldiers again, he will have to stand the result of his misdeeds.”
The captain did not know how many men were with Thompson, and consequently he did not miss one of their number, who was going at his best pace toward the ranch to warn the squawman that the soldiers were Page 388 coming to-morrow to arrest him. As Thompson had said, “You would not see him very much after that.” If he once got out of that ranch and felt a good horse under him, he would kill him before he would ever be found in that department again.
The column pursued their way at an easy gait, and when they came within sight of the cattle, Thompson and his men went down to relieve the teamsters and soldiers who had been keeping guard over them, and the rest rode on into the fort. Some few of the teamsters were awake as Carl went in, and wanted to know all about it; but the young scout told them that the Sioux had been whipped, and had made their way back to their reservation.
The next morning Carl arose at an early hour, but his cattle were nowhere in sight. Thompson had routed his men up as soon as they could see their way clearly, and had started the cattle back toward home. Carl now wanted to see the colonel. He wanted to know if there was anything for him to do, otherwise he desired to go home and look after things there. But the colonel did not Page 389 appear until near breakfast time; then, the captain having made his report to him, he sent for Carl. He said that he was perfectly willing that Carl should go and stay as long as he wanted to, but that Harding must be brought back.
“Your men have got him where they can hold him, have they?” asked the commander. “He is a mighty slippery fellow, and if he sees the least chance to get away he is going to improve it. I had him here in the fort once, and how he got away beats me. I will send a sergeant and four men with you to take him.”
“Very good, sir,” said Carl. He did not say that the men would find him there, for he was quite sure they would not. He waited until the men got ready and then mounted his horse, which he had ridden during the fight, and started off on the trail of the cattle. In about three hours they overtook them. Thompson was bringing up the rear, and his face was all wrinkled up with smiles when he caught sight of the sergeant and four soldiers.
“Say,” said he, “when you get that fellow Page 390 I want you to hold fast to him. This is the second time he has bothered me, and I ain’t agoing to put up with it much longer.”
They had a long way to go, and late in the afternoon they came within sight of the ranch. There was no one there to receive them, but Carl did not mind that. He showed the soldiers where to put their horses, for they were going to stay with him all night, and then led the way into the hall.
“I suppose you want to see Harding the first thing you do,” said he. “Well, he is in the office here——Why, what in the world does this mean?”
He had come to the door of the office, but it was wide open. The key was on the outside, and the window was open, too. There was the shakedown in which the squawman had spent the first night of his captivity, but that was the only thing they saw of him.
“He has escaped!” said Carl; and one, to have seen him, would have thought that it was a matter that crushed him completely.
“Yes, sir, he has escaped,” said the cook, who, hearing the sound of their footsteps in Page 391 the hall, had come in from the kitchen to see what was the matter, “and I would like to know if anybody ever got away under such circumstances before. We had one man outside here in the hall, and another out by the window. They were cautioned to look out for him, for he was like an eel—a hard fellow to hold. Well, sir, that man outside went away for about five minutes, and when he came back the window was open and Harding was gone. He took Thompson’s best horse, too.”
“Well, that lets us off,” said the sergeant, looking around at the soldiers. “Can’t we follow him up and catch him?”
“No,” said the cook. “Don’t I tell you that he has the best horse on the ranch? Some of the men are out now looking for him. He didn’t take to the prairie, but concealed himself in the mountains. He won’t come out till he gets among his friends.”
The cook spoke so earnestly, and seemed so disgusted over Harding’s escape, that the sergeant never thought to blame him for it. If the truth must be told, he was the man who brought the horse and tied him to the bushes Page 392 in the yard so that the squawman could readily find him, and he stood in his door and saw Harding leap out of the window, mount the nag, and ride away in the darkness. Some of the men were indeed out, but they were not looking for Harding. They were attending to the cattle.
“I think we will go back and report to the colonel,” said the sergeant, after meditating a few moments. “He ought to know that he ain’t going to get the man.”
And we may add that this was the last adventure that befell Carl while he stayed at the fort. The troops never suspected Carl, and neither did they ever see Harding again. What became of him after that nobody knew. Of course the soldiers were all on the lookout for him, but he disappeared completely. And we may go further, and say that no one on the ranch ever heard of Claude again. A young man with such habits as his don’t often turn out to be anybody in the world. If he keeps such company as the two men who attempted to rob Carl of his money, he is probably in State’s prison before this time.
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The sergeant and all the soldiers were surprised and perplexed over the escape of Harding, and when the horses had had a rest and the men had eaten their supper they set out for the fort. The men stood on the porch and saw them go; and when they had got out of sight the cook turned to Carl, laid one finger alongside his nose, and winked first one eye and then the other. If the sergeant had seen that motion he might have been led to suspect something.
Carl, the Trailer, remained at home for a week, and when he started for the fort again he took a big load from Thompson’s mind by telling him that he had seen all the scouting he wanted to see, and that in a few days he was coming home to remain.
“There is no more fight in the Sioux, for, now that Sitting Bull has gone and Big Foot was killed during that fight, there will be no one to take command of them,” said Carl. “But first I want to bring the lieutenant up here, to let him see how I live when I am at home. I will come back in a week or two, and I shall never go away again.”
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The men were all glad to hear that piece of news, and when Carl returned in company with the lieutenant, they extended to him a hearty welcome; for Carl had told his herdsmen how he behaved in that fight with the Sioux, and they were glad to shake a brave man by the hand.
“I don’t see why you wanted to leave this nice place, where you have everything just as you want it, and come down to the fort to go scouting,” said Parker, when he had been shown about the ranch, and supper was over and the men had gathered on the porch. “If I had a ranch like this I would resign in a minute. I never would go on another hunt after Indians.”
That was what his men all said, and they were glad to welcome him home. Carl still lives on the plains, but he does not go down to the fort as much as he used to. Time has made changes, and there are but few officers left who knew him as Carl, the Trailer. Parker has now become a captain, and has been ordered to the coast. He keeps up a regular correspondence with Carl; and of all Page 395 the stories he has to tell to his younger officers, there are none that he takes so much delight in as those in which the young scout was engaged. The Ghost Dance is a thing of the past. It has never been heard of since Yellow Bird caught up that handful of dust and threw it into the air, which started the massacre of Wounded Knee.
The End