Croker stared at him, unbelieving, then he snorted and walked away.
Puzzles irritated Callaghen. There was an answer to most things if a man added things up right. The trouble was, you had to have all the pieces, and in this case there was very little on which to make any decision it was all supposition. He had a map, of course… or he had had it. He had sent back the map with those other things that went to the address in Allison’s gear. That he had kept a copy of it was his own business.
The normal duties of the camp continued. Callaghen waited impatiently for his discharge, but saw little of Sykes. Major Sykes was studying reports, and was finding nothing to give him pleasure.
Nowhere did he find a report of a major attack by the Indians. There was continual harassment, with hit-and-run attacks, horse-stealing, and sniping, but nowhere was there any indication of the Indians attempting a real battle. The record showed only another difficult kind of army duty. Both now and during previous occupations of the desert posts, there had been disciplinary problems and desertions.
Hot in the summer, cold and windy in the winter, the high desert offered nothing to entice a soldier. There were no towns nearer than San Bernardino or Los Angeles where he might go on leave, and getting to either place required considerable travel time.
Captain Hill’s reports he found brief and to the point, but there were notes appended as to tactics, the beliefs of the Indians, their source of food, methods of fishing, and all manner of odds and ends. In spite of himself he found these interesting. Captain Hill had certainly been observant. Though he had never served under General Crook, he understood this was the sort of thing Crook required of his officers. He believed in understanding the enemy. Sykes was not at all sure he agreed, but some of it could be of value in closing off the food supply and bringing the Indians to terms.
He studied Callaghen’s report with particular interest. That the man had been an officer was obvious. The report was brief and to the point, and was put together with meticulous skill. The tactics used by the Mohaves, the condition of the water holes, the kind of country over which they marched, the death of Lieutenant Allison all were told clearly and with no wasted words.
This last matter was going to be a headache. They would want to know who this Allison was, how he came to be there, how he came to be killed, how he happened to be in command of an army patrol? He took from the file the orders Allison had submitted on his arrival. Everything was in order. Hill certainly could have had no reason to suspect the man was other than he had appeared to be.
There was a brief outline of Allison’s military record. Graduated from Virginia Military Academy well, that could be checked. He had served at two eastern stations far from the frontier, and anyone might have served at those posts during the time Allison claimed he was there. Both Hill and Callaghen agreed that the man was a soldier, so he must have been one who had left the service not long before… or who had been a former Confederate. A rebel officer…that could be.
Certainly, whatever he had expected to do would have had to be done quickly, for such a trick could not go long undiscovered. Especially as everybody knew that Sykes was about to take over.
Suddenly, he felt a chill. He put the reports down carefully and fumbled in his pocket for a cigar and matches.
Why had the man come here just when Sykes was about to take command? Was it possible, even remotely possible, that Allison was somebody known to him? Somebody who thought Sykes would permit him to stay on?
Sykes sat back in the chair. Who might have such an idea? Who might presume to imagine… He must consider this with care, for though the army might be blundering it was often painstaking, and such inquiries could go on indefinitely.
He could think of no young officer or an older one, for that matter who would dare such a thing. He had made few friends during his time in service; and, anxious to get to the top, he had cultivated only those likely to be of use to him. There was no one he could think of who would have presumption enough to try to trade on his friendship. The explanation must lie elsewhere.
He stepped to the door of his hut. “Callaghen? May I speak to you?”
When Callaghen had stepped in and saluted, Sykes said, “This is somewhat of a surprise, Sergeant. I had not expected to see you again.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Callaghen, I shall have to conduct some sort of an investigation into this matter of Lieutenant Allison. I have read your report. Have you anything to add?”
“No, sir.”
“Did Allison make any inquiries about the country? I mean, did he ask about specific places? Did he give you any indication as to his reason for this masquerade?”
“None at all, sir. Nothing that I recall.”
Sykes toyed with his pen. “You may be sure this was no whim; the move was well planned. You have no clue at all?”
“There was one thing, sir. By inquiry among the men who arrived with him, I learned that he received his orders from some civilian in Los Angeles. They may have been given to this civilian to hold for him. At least, my informant reported that as Allison was about to board the stage that was bringing them here, he was handed an envelope that was the same one Allison turned over to Captain Hill.”
Then, Sykes thought, more than one man might have been involved. Despite the fact that he disliked Callaghen, the man was intelligent, and he might come up with some ideas, but further inquiries brought no additional information.
So after Callaghen had departed, Sykes got out his map of the Mohave area and studied the route Allison had pursued. It told him nothing beyond what he already knew that Allison had gone farther north than he was expected to go, and evidently had not found what he was looking for.
As for Callaghen’s discharge, he glanced at it, and then put it in the file. That could wait. The man’s time was up, but Sykes had no desire to be rid of him… not yet.
Callaghen watched the men policing the area, then went to the horse corrals. Captain Marriott was inspecting the horses. He gestured toward the horses. “Not a bad lot. I hear you have had some stolen?”
“Yes, sir. The Mohaves eat them… or trade them. From what I hear, there’s always been trouble with horse-stealing. Peg-Leg Smith and Jim Beckworth used to ride with the Indians, steal horses in California, and drive them to Nevada or Arizona to sell or trade.”
Marriott was a slender, attractive man of forty-five or so who gave the appearance of being a competent soldier and a gentleman. “I understand you’re due for discharge, Sergeant,” he said now, “We will be sorry to lose you. Experienced men are hard to come by, and you seem to know the desert, from all I can gather.”
Callaghen was watching the trail from the west. There was a black dot out there… something coming. While he talked with Marriott he kept one eye on the distant object. It was rapidly drawing near, and he soon saw that it was a stage. Together the two men walked back to the compound where the stage would draw up.
There were five passengers in the stage, two of them women. From the top of the stage two men dropped down, one of them a barrel-chested, burly man with a thick neck and a truculent manner. He glanced at Marriott, then at Callaghen, and walked off toward an olla that hung in the shade, a gourd dipper hanging beside it.
The first man who got out of the stage was a slender, sharp-featured man with black hair and eyes, and a sallow complexion. He glanced around quickly, missing nothing.
Suddenly there came the word, “Morty!”
Callaghen turned sharply. It was Malinda Colton.
CHAPTER 8
“What in God’s world ?”
She was aglow with excitement “Morty! I had no idea ” She turned swiftly. “Aunt Madge! Look, it’s Morty Callaghen!”
Madge McDonald held out her hand. “How are you, Sergeant? This is a surprise. We knew that Major Sykes was here, but we had no idea you were here too. Oooh!” she exclaimed. “I forgot! Major Sykes! Morty, how did you ever get into a unit with him again?”
Callaghen glanced toward the headquarters. He shrugged, and explained about his discharge, and said that his time was actually completed.
“But what are you going to do? You surely aren’t going back into the army?”