Indians of North America -- Fiction; Soldiers -- West (U.S.) -- Fiction
There was the sheriff of Yampah, with a small squad of deputies. There
was the mayor of Argenta, a director in the mines, and with him,
puffing prodigiously and slowly up the ramp from the wagon-road, two
brother directors away out from Denver. There were certain prominent
citizens of Argenta and Hatch's Cove. There were certain railway men,
with men and tools at their back and no time to waste. There were two
men in civilian dress whom many a man of Silver Run knew for soldiers
at once, for as such had they known them before--Captain Lee and
Quartermaster McCrea of the old --th Cavalry--and there had been a
remarkable meeting and hand-shaking between them and Nolan, and a
whispered confabulation, at the end of which the two dove into the
office building where Shiner still lay, comforted by better news of his
boy, by good surgical aid, and by a skilful and competent nurse who,
for more than one reason, preferred to keep out of sight for the time
being. There had been a face-to-face meeting between sergeant and
sheriff when Nolan came forth from a rapturous scene at old Shiner's
bedside. But this time the sheriff looked sheepish, and there was no
talk of arrest. Young Breifogle, it seems, would not die of his
wounds. One of the culprits had "split" and the real assailants were
known.
And there had been a fine shower of congratulation on Cawker for his
heroic defence and determined stand against tremendous odds, and the
three magnates present of Silver Shield had begun with much unction to
talk of reward and appreciation, and very probably Cawker felt both
heroic and deserving, and quite ready to accept all credit and pay, but
there were too many witnesses, too many wise men, too many suggestive
smiles and snickers and audible remarks, and Cawker had sense to see
and then to rise manfully to the occasion.
"We did the best we knew how, gentlemen," said he, "but I am bound to
say Silver Shield would have been in ruins this minute, and most of us
dead, if it hadn't been for Nolan--the man you ordered thrown out."
There was a silence almost dramatic for a moment.
"Who ordered him thrown out?" asked Mr. Stoner, of Denver.
"The directors, sir, unless young Mr. Breifogle lied. These men are my
witnesses."
And the answer came straightway.
"No such orders were given by the board. If Mr. Breifogle gave them,
they were his alone."
Whereupon a shout went up that shook the roof. But the end was not yet.
Nolan was dragged forward to be grasped by the hand and smothered with
congratulations, and old Nolan, in turn, would have none of it. A dozen
men had seized Geordie Graham, even as his classmates and comrades had
chaired him a few weeks back at the Point, and black, grimy, and
protesting, he was heaved forward and deposited in front of the
astonished trio. But the shout that went up from all sides was
significant. Lee and McCrea were shouting, too.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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