Ranson's Folly (Fiscle Part 3), Richard Harding Davis [best novel books to read TXT] 📗
- Author: Richard Harding Davis
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The Curtains Dropped And The Face Disappeared.
The Sergeant Fingered The Gun And Cahill Folded His Arms Defiantly.
"Well?" He Said.
"Well?" Asked The Sergeant.
"I Should Think You Could See How It Is," Said Cahill, "Without My
Having To Tell You."
"You Mean You Don't Want She Should Know?"
"My God, No! Not Even That I Kept A Bar."
"Well, I Don't Know Nothing. I Don't Mean To Tell Nothing, Anyway, So
If You'll Promise To Be Good I'll Call This Off."
For The First Time In The History Of Fort Crockett, Cahill Was Seen
To Smile. "May I Reach Under The Counter Now?" He Asked.
The Sergeant Grinned Appreciatively, And Shifted His Gun. "Yes, But
I'll Keep This Out Until I'm Sure It's A Bottle," He Said, And
Laughed Boisterously.
For An Instant, Under The Cover Of The Counter, Cahill's Hand Touched
Longingly Upon The Gun That Lay There, And Then Passed On To The
Bottle Beside It. He Drew It Forth, And There Was The Clink Of
Glasses.
In The Other Room Mary Cahill Winked At The Major, But That Officer
Pretended To Be Both Deaf To The Clink Of The Glasses And Blind To
The Wink. And So The Incident Was Closed. Had It Not Been For The
Folly Of Lieutenant Ranson It Would Have Remained Closed.
A Week Before This Happened A Fire Had Started In The Willow Bottoms
Among The Tepees Of Some Kiowas, And The Prairie, As Far As One Could
See, Was Bruised And Black. From The Post It Looked As Though The Sky
Had Been Raining Ink. At The Time All Of The Regiment But G And H
Troops Was Out On A Practice-March, Experimenting With A New-Fangled
Tabloid-Ration. As Soon As It Turned The Buttes It Saw From Where The
Light In The Heavens Came And The Practice-March Became A Race.
At The Post The Men Had Doubled Out Under Lieutenant Ranson With Wet
Horse-Blankets, And While He Led G Troop To Fight The Flames, H
Troop, Under Old Major Stickney, Burned A Space Around The Post,
Across Which The Men Of G Troop Retreated, Stumbling, With Their Ears
And Shoulders Wrapped In The Smoking Blankets. The Sparks Beat Upon
Them And The Flames Followed So Fast That, As They Ran, The Blazing
Grass Burned Their Lacings, And They Kicked Their Gaiters Ahead Of
Them.
When The Regiment Arrived It Found Everybody At Fort Crockett Talking
Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 6Enthusiastically Of Ranson's Conduct And Resentfully Of The Fact That
He Had Regarded The Fire As One Which Had Been Started For His
Especial Amusement.
"I Assure You," Said Mrs. Bolland To The Colonel, "If It Hadn't Been
For Young Ranson We Would Have Been Burned In Our Beds; But He Was
Most Aggravating. He Treated It As Though It Were Fourth Of July
Fireworks. It Is The Only Entertainment We Have Been Able To Offer
Him Since He Joined In Which He Has Shown The Slightest Interest."
Nevertheless, It Was Generally Admitted That Ranson Had Saved The
Post. He Had Been Ubiquitous. He Had Been Seen Galloping Into The
Advancing Flames Like A Stampeded Colt, He Had Reappeared Like A
Wraith In Columns Of Black, Whirling Smoke, At The Same Moment His
Voice Issued Orders From Twenty Places. One Instant He Was Visible
Beating Back The Fire With A Wet Blanket, Waving It Above Him
Jubilantly, Like A Substitute At The Army-Navy Game When His Side
Scores, And The Next Staggering From Out Of The Furnace Dragging An
Asphyxiated Trooper By The Collar, And Shrieking, "Hospital-Steward,
Hospital-Steward! Here's A Man On Fire. Put Him Out, And Send Him
Back To Me, Quick!"
Those Who Met Him In The Whirlwind Of Smoke And Billowing Flame
Related That He Chuckled Continuously. "Isn't This Fun?" He Yelled At
Them. "Say, Isn't This The Best Ever? I Wouldn't Have Missed This For
A Trip To New York!"
When The Colonel, Having Visited The Hospital And Spoken Cheering
Words To Those Who Were Sans Hair, Sans Eyebrows And With Bandaged
Hands, Complimented Lieutenant Ranson On The Parade-Ground Before The
Assembled Regiment, Ranson Ran To His Hut Muttering Strange And
Fearful Oaths.
That Night At Mess He Appealed To Mary Cahill For Sympathy.
"Goodness, Mighty Me!" He Cried, "Did You Hear Him? Wasn't It Awful?
If I'd Thought He Was Going To Hand Me That I'd Have Deserted. What's
The Use Of Spoiling The Only Fun We've Had That Way? Why, If I'd
Known You Could Get That Much Excitement Out Of This Rank Prairie I'd
Have Put A Match To It Myself Three Months Ago. It's The Only Fun
I've Had, And He Goes And Preaches A Funeral Oration At Me."
Ranson Came Into The Army At The Time Of The Spanish War Because It
Promised A New Form Of Excitement, And Because Everybody Else He Knew
Had Gone Into It Too. As The Son Of His Father He Was Made An
Adjutant-General Of Volunteers With The Rank Of Captain, And Unloaded
On The Staff Of A Southern Brigadier, Who Was Slated Never To Leave
Charleston. But Ranson Suspected This, And, After Telegraphing His
Father For Three Days, Was Attached To The Philippines Contingent And
Sailed From San Francisco In Time To Carry Messages Through The Surf
When The Volunteers Moved Upon Manila. More Cabling At The Cost Of
Many Mexican Dollars Caused Him To Be Removed From The Staff, And
Given A Second Lieutenancy In A Volunteer Regiment, And For Two Years
He Pursued The Little Brown Men Over The Paddy Sluices, Burned
Villages, Looted Churches, And Collected Bolos And Altar-Cloths With
That Irresponsibility And Contempt For Regulations Which Is Found
Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 8Table Mountain And The Bloody Angle. He Doesn't Know The Civil War's
Over. I Tell You, If I Can't Get Excitement On Tap I've Got To Make
It, And If I Make It Out Here They'll Court-Martial Me. So There's
Nothing For It But To Resign."
"You'd Better Wait Till The End Of The Week," Said Crosby, Grinning.
"It's Going To Be Full Of Gayety. Thursday, Paymaster's Coming Out
With Our Cash, And To-Night That Miss Post From New York Arrives In
The Up Stage. She's To Visit The Colonel, So Everybody Will Have To
Give Her A Good Time."
"Yes, I Certainly Must Wait For That," Growled Ranson; "There
Probably Will Be Progressive Euchre Parties All Along The Line, And
We'll Sit Up As Late As Ten O'clock And Stick Little Gilt Stars On
Ourselves."
Crosby Laughed Tolerantly.
"I See Your Point Of View," He Said. "I Remember When My Father Took
Me To Monte Carlo I Saw You At The Tables With Enough Money In Front
Of You To Start A Bank. I Remember My Father Asked The Croupiers Why
They Allowed A Child Of Your Age To Gamble. I Was Just A Kid Then,
And So Were You, Too. I Remember I Thought You Were The Devil Of A
Fellow."
Ranson Looked Sheepishly At Miss Cahill And Laughed. "Well, So I Was-
-Then," He Said. "Anybody Would Be A Devil Of A Fellow Who'd Been
Brought Up As I Was, With A Doting Parent Who Owns A Trust And
Doesn't Know The Proper Value Of Money. And Yet You Expect Me To Be
Happy With A Fifty-Cent Limit Game, And Twenty Miles Of Burned
Prairie. I Tell You I've Never Been Broken To It. I Don't Know What
Not Having Your Own Way Means. And Discipline! Why, Every Time I Have
To Report One Of My Men To The Colonel I Send For Him Afterward And
Give Him A Drink And Apologize To Him. I Tell You The Army Doesn't
Mean Anything To Me Unless There's Something Doing, And As There Is
No Fighting Out Here I'm For The Back Room Of The Holland House And A
Rubber-Tired Automobile. Little Old New York Is Good Enough For Me!"
As He Spoke These Fateful Words Of Mutiny Lieutenant Ranson Raised
His Black Eyes And Snatched A Swift Side-Glance At The Face Of Mary
Cahill. It Was Almost As Though It Were From Her He Sought His
Answer. He Could Not Himself Have Told What It Was He Would Have Her
Say. But Ever Since The Idea Of Leaving The Army Had Come To Him,
Mary Cahill And The Army Had Become Interchangeable And Had Grown To
Mean One And The Same Thing. He Fought Against This Condition Of Mind
Fiercely. He Had Determined That Without Active Service The Army Was
Intolerable; But That Without Mary Cahill Civil Life Would Also Prove
Intolerable, He Assured Himself Did Not At All Follow. He Had Laughed
At The Idea. He Had Even Argued It Out Sensibly. Was It Reasonable To
Suppose, He Asked Himself, That After Circling The Great Globe Three
Times He Should Find The One Girl On It Who Alone Could Make Him
Happy, Sitting Behind A Post-Trader's Counter On The Open Prairie?
His Interest In Miss Cahill Was The Result Of Propinquity, That Was
All. It Was Due To The Fact That There Was No One Else At Hand,
Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 9Because He Was Sorry For Her Loneliness, Because Her Absurd Social
Ostracism Had Touched His Sympathy. How Long After He Reached New
York Would He Remember The Little Comrade With The Brave, Boyish Eyes
Set In The Delicate, Feminine Head, With Its Great Waves Of Gorgeous
Hair? It Would Not Be Long, He Guessed. He Might Remember The Way She
Rode Her Pony, How She Swung From Her Mexican Saddle And Caught Up A
Gauntlet From The Ground. Yes, He Certainly Would Remember That, And
He Would Remember The Day He Had Galloped After Her And Ridden With
Her Through The Indian Village, And Again That Day When They Rode To
The Water-Fall And The Lover's Leap. And He Would Remember Her Face
At Night As It Bent Over The Books He Borrowed For Her, Which She
Read While They Were At Mess, Sitting In Her High Chair With Her Chin
Resting In Her Palms, Staring Down At The Book Before Her. And The
Trick She Had, Whenever He Spoke, Of Raising Her
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