Ranson's Folly (Fiscle Part 3), Richard Harding Davis [best novel books to read TXT] 📗
- Author: Richard Harding Davis
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Swearing Fiercely. Curtis Stood Staring Out Of The Open Door.
"Will He Do It?" He Asked.
"Of Course He'll Do It."
Curtis Crossed The Room And Dropped Into A Chair. "And What--What Had
Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 13We Better Do?" He Asked. For Some Time The Other Made No Answer. His
Brows Were Knit, And He Tramped The Room, Scowling At The Floor. Then
With An Exclamation Of Alarm He Stepped Lightly To The Door Of The
Exchange And Threw Back The Curtain. In The Other Room, Cahill Stood
At Its Furthest Corner, Scooping Sugar From A Hogshead.
Crosby's Scowl Relaxed, And, Reseating Himself At The Table, He
Rolled A Cigarette. "Now, If He Pulls It Off," He Whispered, "And
Gets Back To Quarters, Then--It's A Case Of All's Well. But, If He's
Shot, Or Caught, And It All Comes Out, Then It's Up To Us To Prove He
Meant It As A Practical Joke."
"It Isn't Our Duty To Report It Now, Is It?" Asked Curtis, Nervously.
"Certainly Not! If He Chooses To Make An Ass Of Himself, That's None
Of Our Business. Unless He's Found Out, We Have Heard Nothing And
Seen Nothing. If He's Caught, Then We've Got To Stick By Him, And
Testify That He Did It On A Bet. He'll Probably Win Out All Right.
There Is Nobody Expected On The Stage But That Miss Post And Her
Aunt. And The Driver's An Old Hand. He Knows Better Than To Fight."
"There May Be Some Cowboys Coming Up."
"That's Ranson's Lookout. As Cahill Says, The Red Rider Takes His
Chances."
"I Wish There Was Something We Could Do Now," Curtis Protested,
Petulantly. "I Suppose We've Just Got To Sit Still And Wait For Him?"
"That's All," Answered Crosby, And Then Leaped To His Feet. "What's
That?" He Asked. Out On The Parade Ground, A Bugle-Call Broke
Suddenly On The Soft Spring Air. It Rang Like An Alarm. The Noise Of
A Man Running Swiftly Sounded On The Path, And Before The Officers
Reached The Doorway Sergeant Clancey Entered It, And Halted At
Attention.
"The Colonel's Orders," Panted The Sergeant, "And The Lieutenant's
Are To Take Twenty Men From G And H Troops, And Ride To Kiowa To
Escort The Paymaster."
"The Paymaster!" Crosby Cried. "He's Not Coming Till Thursday."
"He's Just Telegraphed From Kiowa City, Lieutenant. He's Ahead Of His
Schedule. He Wants An Escort For The Money. He Left Kiowa A Few
Minutes Ago In The Up Stage."
The Two Lieutenants Sprang Forward, And Shouted In Chorus: "The
Stage? He Is In The Stage!"
Sergeant Clancey Stared Dubiously From One Officer To The Other. He
Misunderstood Their Alarm, And With The Privilege Of Long Service
Attempted To Allay It. "The Lieutenant Knows Nothing Can Happen To
The Stage Till It Reaches The Buttes," He Said. "There Has Never Been
A Hold-Up In The Open, And The Escort Can Reach The Buttes Long
Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 14Before The Stage Gets Here." He Coughed Consciously. "Colonel's
Orders Are To Gallop, Lieutenant."
As The Two Officers Rode Knee To Knee Through The Night, The Pay
Escort Pounding The Trail Behind Them, Crosby Leaned From His Saddle.
"He Has Only Ten Minutes' Start Of Us," He Whispered. "We Are Certain
To Overtake Him. We Can't Help But Do It. We Must Do It. We Must! If
We Don't, And He Tries To Stop Colonel Patten And The Pay-Roll, He'll
Die. Two Women And A Deaf Driver, That--That's A Joke. But An Indian
Fighter Like Old Patten, And Uncle Sam's Money, That Means A Finish
Fight-And His Death And Disgrace." He Turned Savagely In His Saddle.
"Close Up There!" He Commanded. "Stop That Talking. You Keep Your
Breath Till I Want It--And Ride Hard."
After The Officers Had Galloped Away From The Messroom, And Sergeant
Clancey Had Hurried After Them To The Stables, The Post-Trader
Entered It From The Exchange And Barred The Door, Which They In Their
Haste Had Left Open. As He Did This, The Close Observer, Had One Been
Present, Might Have Noted That Though His Movements Were Now Alert
And Eager, They No Longer Were Betrayed By Any Sound, And That His
Spurs Had Ceased To Jangle. Yet That He Purposed To Ride Abroad Was
Evident From The Fact That From A Far Corner He Dragged Out A Heavy
Saddle. He Flung This Upon The Counter, And Swiftly Stripped It Of
Its Stirrups. These, With More Than Necessary Care, He Hid Away Upon
The Highest Shelf Of The Shop, While From The Lower Shelves He
Snatched A Rubber Poncho And A Red Kerchief. For A Moment, As He
Unbarred The Door, The Post-Trader Paused And Cast A Quick Glance
Before And Behind Him, And Then The Door Closed And There Was
Silence. A Minute Later It Was Broken By The Hoofs Of A Horse
Galloping Swiftly Along The Trail To Kiowa City.
Part Ii
That Winter Miss Post Had Been Going Out A Great Deal More Than Was
Good For Her, And When The Spring Came She Broke Down. The Family
Doctor Recommended Aiken, But An Aunt Of Miss Post's, Mrs. Truesdall,
Had Been At Farmington With Mrs. "Colonel" Bolland, And Urged
Visiting Her Instead. The Doctor Agreed That The Climatic Conditions
Existing At Fort Crockett Were Quite As Health-Giving As Those At
Aiken, And Of The Two The Invalid Decided That The Regimental Post
Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 15Would Be More Of A Novelty.
So She And Her Aunt And The Maid Changed Cars Twice After Leaving St.
Louis And Then Staged It To Kiowa City, Where, While Waiting For
"Pop" Henderson's Coach To Fort Crockett, They Dined With Him On
Bacon, Fried Bread, And Alkali Water Tinged With Coffee.
It Was At Kiowa City, A City Of Four Hundred Houses On Blue-Print
Paper And Six On Earth, That Miss Post First Felt Certain That She
Was Going To Enjoy Her Visit. It Was There She First Saw, At Large
And On His Native Heath, A Blanket Indian. He Was A Tall, Beautiful
Youth, With Yellow Ochre On His Thin, Brown Arms And Blue Ochre On
His Cheekbones, Who Sat On "Pop's" Steps, Gazing Impassively At The
Stars. Miss Post Came Out With Her Maid And Fell Over Him. The Maid
Screamed. Miss Post Said: "I Beg Your Pardon"; And The Brave
Expressed His Contempt By Gutteral Mutterings And By Moving Haughtily
Away. Miss Post Was Then Glad That She Had Not Gone To Aiken. For The
Twelve-Mile Drive Through The Moonlit Buttes To Fort Crockett There
Was, Besides The Women, One Other Passenger. He Was A Travelling
Salesman Of The Hancock Uniform Company, And Was Visiting Fort
Crockett To Measure The Officers For Their Summer Tunics. At Dinner
He Passed Miss Post The Condensed Milk-Can, And In Other Ways Made
Himself Agreeable. He Informed Her Aunt That He Was In The Military
Equipment Department Of The Army, But, Much To That Young Woman's
Distress, Addressed Most Of His Remarks To The Maid, Who, To His
Taste, Was The Most Attractive Of The Three.
"I Take It," He Said Genially To Miss Post, "That You And The Young
Lady Are Sisters."
"No," Said Miss Post, "We Are Not Related."
It Was Eight O'clock, And The Moon Was Full In The Heavens When "Pop"
Henderson Hoisted Them Into The Stage And Burdened His Driver, Hunk
Smith, With Words Of Advice Which Were Intended Solely For The Ears
Of The Passengers.
"You Want To Be Careful Of That Near Wheeler, Hunk," He Said, "Or
He'll Upset You Into A Gully. An' In Crossing The Second Ford, Bear
To The Right; The Water's Running High, And It May Carry Youse All
Down Stream. I Don't Want That These Ladies Should Be Drowned In Any
Stage Of Mine. An' If The Red Rider Jumps You Don't Put Up No Bluff,
But Sit Still. The Paymaster's Due In A Night Or Two, An' I've No
Doubt At All But That The Rider's Laying For Him. But If You Tell Him
That There's No One Inside But Womenfolk And A Tailor, Mebbe He Won't
Hurt Youse. Now, Ladies," He Added, Putting His Head Under The
Leather Flap, As Though Unconscious That All He Had Said Had Already
Reached Them, "Without Wishing To Make You Uneasy, I Would Advise
Your Having Your Cash And Jewelry Ready In Your Hands. With Road-
Agents It's Mostly Wisest To Do What They Say, An' To Do It Quick. Ef
You Give 'Em All You've Got, They Sometimes Go Away Without Spilling
Blood, Though, Such Being Their Habits, Naturally Disappointed." He
Turned His Face Toward The Shrinking Figure Of The Military Tailor.
"You, Being An Army Man," He Said, "Will Of Course Want To Protect
Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 16The Ladies, But You Mustn't Do It. You Must Keep Cool. Ef You Pull
Your Gun, Like As Not You'll All Get Killed. But I'm Hoping For The
Best. Good-Night All, An' A Pleasant Journey."
The Stage Moved Off With Many Creaks And Many Cracks Of The Whip,
Which In Part Smothered Hunk Smith's Laughter. But After The First
Mile, He, Being A Man With Feelings And A Family, Pulled The Mules To
A Halt.
The Voice Of The Drummer Could Instantly Be Heard Calling Loudly From
The Darkness Of The Stage: "Don't Open Those Flaps. If They See Us,
They'll Fire!"
"I Wanted You Folks To Know," Said Hunk Smith, Leaning From The Box-
Seat, "That That Talk Of Pop's Was All Foolishness. You're As Safe On
This Trail As In A Pullman Palace-Car. That Was Just His Way. Pop
Will Have His Joke. You Just Go To Sleep Now, If You Can, And Trust
To Me. I'll Get You There By
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