why?”
“No, sir. I understood we were merely to learn the lay of the land and try to judge by surface indications what movement there had been…by tracks, sir.”
Hill sat down abruptly. “Callaghen, how long have you been in the service?”
“Three years, sir.”
“Your time is just about up, then?”
“Yes, sir. I have ten days to go, sir.”
“You have been a sergeant twice, I believe. What caused them to break you?”
“Fighting, sir.”
“ Fighting? Damn it, what are they thinking of? I’d sooner break a man for not fighting. All right, Callaghen, I need some help. As of now you are a sergeant again.”
He looked up suddenly, sharply. “You are an educated man, Callaghen. Were you ever an officer?”
Callaghen hesitated the briefest moment. “Yes, sir. Several times.”
“Broken for fighting, I suppose?” Hill suggested sarcastically.
“No, sir. I moved on.” Again he paused briefly. “I am Irish, sir. In these days that practically means I am a man without a country. Those of us with military training fight wherever there is employment.”
“Did you serve with Meagher?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right, all right. You say you have Allison’s things. Go to his quarters, Callaghen, and put his things together. He was not with me long enough to get acquainted, but he had a family, I believe.”
Callaghen waited a moment. “After I sleep, sir?”
“Oh, of course! I’m sorry, Callaghen. You’ve had a rough go of it. I will want to get a complete report later. Having been an officer, I suppose you know how to write a report. Please do so. I shall want to know all I can about the Mohaves, the water, the terrain…you understand.”
It was noon before Callaghen got up. His feet were blistered, and he treated them as best he could. All was quiet. Only eight men were in camp, aside from Captain Hill, and at least three of the others were, as he was, in no shape for duty after the long march.
He dressed and shaved, and then went to Lieutenant Allison’s quarters.
He stepped into the crudely constructed shelter and stopped, startled by what he saw. Somebody had been there before him, for Allison’s duffel bag had been opened and the contents dumped on his cot. His things had been hurriedly searched, letters ripped open—everything had been gone through.
He stepped to the door, and lifted the flap of canvas that did duty for a door. He studied the ground outside carefully, but there were too many footprints to determine anything. Any one of the men might have come here, searching for money or whatever else they could find of value.
He went next door to the captain’s quarters, where he reported to Captain Hill. Hill went back with him and stared around Allison’s quarters.
“Thieves! As if we didn’t have trouble enough out here without having blasted thieves among us! Eight men, and how do we know which one it was?”
“Seven men, sir. I came here on the captain’s orders, and I would have had no reason for this.”
Carefully, Callaghen gathered together the things that had belonged to the lieutenant. Allison had been a neat, meticulous sort of man. His uniforms were new, showing no wear. All his clothes were new. This was an unusual thing for a man who has seen much duty.
Puzzled, Callaghen examined them again. At least one uniform, he was sure, had never been worn. At least one pair of boots had not been worn. The cavalry saber, bright and shining, that hung from a nail in the corner could also have been new.
One by one he checked and listed the articles, and when he had finished, he sat down on the bed. Everything Lieutenant Allison had possessed was new; and whatever else he had planned, he had not planned to stay. He had none of those things an officer brings to a new, desert station, those little things that can make one’s camp life more pleasant. No pictures, no papers, no books. Not even extra soap…nothing. And he had yet to look at the things Allison had carried
“No, sir. I understood we were merely to learn the lay of the land and try to judge by surface indications what movement there had been…by tracks, sir.”
Hill sat down abruptly. “Callaghen, how long have you been in the service?”
“Three years, sir.”
“Your time is just about up, then?”
“Yes, sir. I have ten days to go, sir.”
“You have been a sergeant twice, I believe. What caused them to break you?”
“Fighting, sir.”
“ Fighting? Damn it, what are they thinking of? I’d sooner break a man for not fighting. All right, Callaghen, I need some help. As of now you are a sergeant again.”
He looked up suddenly, sharply. “You are an educated man, Callaghen. Were you ever an officer?”
Callaghen hesitated the briefest moment. “Yes, sir. Several times.”
“Broken for fighting, I suppose?” Hill suggested sarcastically.
“No, sir. I moved on.” Again he paused briefly. “I am Irish, sir. In these days that practically means I am a man without a country. Those of us with military training fight wherever there is employment.”
“Did you serve with Meagher?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right, all right. You say you have Allison’s things. Go to his quarters, Callaghen, and put his things together. He was not with me long enough to get acquainted, but he had a family, I believe.”
Callaghen waited a moment. “After I sleep, sir?”
“Oh, of course! I’m sorry, Callaghen. You’ve had a rough go of it. I will want to get a complete report later. Having been an officer, I suppose you know how to write a report. Please do so. I shall want to know all I can about the Mohaves, the water, the terrain…you understand.”
It was noon before Callaghen got up. His feet were blistered, and he treated them as best he could. All was quiet. Only eight men were in camp, aside from Captain Hill, and at least three of the others were, as he was, in no shape for duty after the long march.
He dressed and shaved, and then went to Lieutenant Allison’s quarters.
He stepped into the crudely constructed shelter and stopped, startled by what he saw. Somebody had been there before him, for Allison’s duffel bag had been opened and the contents dumped on his cot. His things had been hurriedly searched, letters ripped open—everything had been gone through.
He stepped to the door, and lifted the flap of canvas that did duty for a door. He studied the ground outside carefully, but there were too many footprints to determine anything. Any one of the men might have come here, searching for money or whatever else they could find of value.
He went next door to the captain’s quarters, where he reported to Captain Hill. Hill went back with him and stared around Allison’s quarters.
“Thieves! As if we didn’t have trouble enough out here without having blasted thieves among us! Eight men, and how do we know which one it was?”
“Seven men, sir. I came here on the captain’s orders, and I would have had no reason for this.”
Carefully, Callaghen gathered together the things that had belonged to the lieutenant. Allison had been a neat, meticulous sort of man. His uniforms were new, showing no wear. All his clothes were new. This was an unusual thing for a man who has seen much duty.
Puzzled, Callaghen examined them again. At least one uniform, he was sure, had never been worn. At least one pair of boots had not been worn. The cavalry saber, bright and shining, that hung from a nail in the corner could also have been new.
One by one he checked and listed the articles, and when he had finished, he sat down on the bed. Everything Lieutenant Allison had possessed was new; and whatever else he had planned, he had not planned to stay. He had none of those things an officer brings to a new, desert station, those little things that can make one’s camp life more pleasant. No pictures, no papers, no books. Not even extra soap…nothing. And he had yet to look at the things Allison had carried
Similar Books
Suck It Up
Emma Hillman
Eye Spy
Tessa Buckley
Seduction in Mind
Susan Johnson
Shadow Hawk
Jill Shalvis
The Dutch
Richard E. Schultz
The Wellstone
Wil McCarthy
The Archer (The Blood Realm Series Book 3)
Jennifer Blackstream
Claws for Alarm
T.C. LoTempio
The Templars and the Shroud of Christ
Barbara Frale
Twelve Red Herrings
Jeffrey Archer