The Captain of the Gray-Horse TroopGarland, Hamlin
General
The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop
Garland, Hamlin
Colorado -- Fiction; Western stories
There was genuine pleading in the boy's voice, and Curtis came back and
took a chair near him while the doctor probed the wounds and dressed
them. The officer's heart was very tender towards the reckless,
warm-hearted young rancher as he watched his face whiten and the lips
stiffen in the effort to conceal his pain. "Calvin, you've been loyal
all through," he said, "and we won't forget it."
At last, when the wounds were bandaged and the worst of the pain over,
Curtis turned to Two Horns and signed:
"Where is Crow and the wife of Cut Finger?"
"I do not know."
"I will go find him; you remain here. Do not fear; you are safe now. Sit
down by Calvin's bed. You will sleep here to-night."
As he made his way through the close-packed mass of excited men in the
lobby and before the hotel, Curtis met no hostile face. It seemed that
all men were become his friends, and eager to disclaim any share in the
mob's action. He put their proffered hands aside and hurried back to
Ladue's, which he found close-barred and dark.
"Who's there?" called a shaking voice as he knocked.
"Captain Curtis. Where is Crow?"
"In here!" was the answer, in joyful voice. As he opened the door, Ladue
reached his hand to the agent. "My God, I'm glad it is you! I was afraid
you'd been wiped out. Where is Two Horns?"
Crow, with his revolver still gripped in his hand, stepped forward, his
face quivering with emotion. "Little Father, it is good to see you; you
are not hurt? Where is Two Horns?"
"Safe in the big house with me. The evil white men are gone; you will
camp here, you and the wife of Cut Finger," he signed as he saw the
cowering form of the little wife.
Ladue, a big, hulking, pock-marked half-breed, began to grin. "I was
a-scared; I sure was. I thought we was all goin' to hang. Old Bill Yarpe
was out for game."
"The better citizens are in control now," replied Curtis. "You are safe,
but you'd better remain in the house till morning."
As Curtis made his way through the crowd some one raised a cheer for
"Major Curtis," and the cry was taken up by a hundred voices. Indignant
citizens shouted: "We'll stand by you, Major. We'll see justice done."
Curtis, as he reached the stair-way, turned and coldly said: "Make your
words good. For four days a mob of two hundred armed men have menaced
the lives of my employes and my wards, and you did nothing to prevent
them. I am glad to see you appreciate the horror and the disgrace of
this night's doings. If you mean what you say, let no guilty man escape.
Make this night the memorable end of lawlessness in your country."
"We will!" roared a big, broad-faced, black-bearded man, and the crowd
broke into another roar of approval.
Elsie was waiting at the top of the stairs, tense and white. Her eyes
burned down into his with a singular flame as she cried out:
"Why didn't you come to me sooner? Why do you walk so slowly? Are you
hurt? Tell me the truth!"
"No, only tired," he answered, as he reached her side.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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