The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1896-03-15
CHAPTER III.

@1AI WaAa > Gu
gagement TO Mr.. McLane and a few
weeks before h marriage, Randolph
Merriam had left Fort Sedgw.ak in COM
nan os a detachment of cavalry escort
ing a government survey 10 the Mes
calero range 1t was not mis- tour. The
detail belonged to Harrison. a younge
officer. who Lao been saving up all win
ter for a two months leave and a chance
to spend his savings at IN great EXPOSE
ton at Chicago. A relentless colonel
would allow him no leave. because il was
his turn for field duty, and because so
many officers wished to go to the fair
that 1t was out OF the question to ex-
poet any one to offer TO take the detail
for him. The detachment would be in
the field at least three months. possibly
four. Harrison, consequently, was the
bluest man at Sedgwick, and said more
hard things about government surveys
and more improper things than could
well be recorded here. Everybody had
been congratulating Merriam on the final
receipt of what the lawyers didn't
scoop" OF his little legacy, and for w
weeks he had been as happy as Harri-
son was miserable. Then, to the utter
amaze of everybody. just the day be-
fore ii was time for the command to
start it was announced that Harrison's
application for leave had gone forward
approved, and that Merriam had asked
for and been granted the luxury of a
three or four months jog through the
toughest and most f~orbidding of noun
tain ranges. He had even got the
coloneI's permission to go ahead and
wait for the detachment at the old mis-
sion on the Santa Clara, and had started
late at night, accompanied only by an
orderly. People couldn't believe their
ears, and the post commander rejoiced
In the possession of a secret even his
wife couldn't coax out Of him-the con-
scienceless, Grabbed old crank, as one of
his garrison not subject to court-martial
described him. The adjutant had to ad-
NIT that Merriam had been closeted with
the X. o. nearly half an hour, and had
looked black and blue both, but no
bIacker. no bluer when he came out than
when he went in. No. he did not think
that anybody else had complained of
Merriam's owing him money. He did not
think anybody had had a word TO say
against him.. The Old man had simply
sent for the adjutant right after the in
terview and remarked: Mr.. Blossom.
you can tell MI. Harrison he may sub
NIT that application for leave and I'll
forward it approved. Mr.. Merriam has
my consent to AXE that escort in his
stead" But hadn't he told anybody?
Didn't anybody know? were the very
natural questions asked. Nc. Merriam's
one intimate and chum in his regiment
was Bill Whitaker, and Bill was away
up at Santa Fe at the time, a witness be-
fore d general c-ourt-martial. Merriam
was a frequent visitor at the Haynes
quarters, and everybody knew that in his
own regiment he had no warmer friends
than Captain and Mrs. Lawrence Hayne.
OF the Rifiers. and Merriam had had a
long talk with Hayne before calling on
the colonel. But no n who knew either
Hayne or his charming wife ever thought
of trying to extract from them informa-
ton as to other peoples personal affairs.
Old Buxton, the dragoon-of-the-old-
army sort of a lieutenant colonel, did try
TO pump the captain, but was most cOOlly
and civilly snubbsd for his pains. Bux-
ton was a man Hayne never spoke to ex-
cept in the most formal way. There had
been some trou lie between them ever so
long ago, when Hayne was a young Sec
n lieutenant and "Bux'' the senior
captain OF the til Cavalry. The soften
ing touch OF time had effaced much of
the bitterness OF that old, old story.
=. Hayne had twice been stationed at the
same garrison with Buxton, and found
1t awkward to preserve the rule of nom
intercourse with a field officer who was
frequently in command, so he spoke re-
s~pectfully and courteOusly to his senior
whenever they met, but the courtesy was
as cold and the meetings as rare as he
could make them. Bux, however, ''bore
no MALICE as he said, and was quite
ready TO be m-agnanimous and forgive
Hayne for what had transpired in the
past. but then Buxton, not Hayne, had
been the offender. Indeed, Buxton was a
pachyderm on whom snubs had little
effect He believed Hayne knew why
Merriam had asked for his most unde-
sirable detail, and so i~mportuned him
with eager inquiry-aIl to no
Harrison blisSfully went on to Chicago
and Merriam out 10 the Mescalero, and
was no more heard of or from for several
weeks Then the news came that he
was seriously i'll with mountain fever al
the cantOnment on Catamount creek, and
Bill Whitaker was hurried thither tc
take over the m
In a week there came a letter from him
to Captain Hayne, and this was what il
said:
Hound the dear old boy convalescing
but wOefully limp and weak. Tremaine
say he was wild as a loon when the
men brought him in. They saw that he
was burning with fever for days., and
begged him to go TO the cantonment fof
medical attention, but he bade then
mind their own business and o~bstinately
stuck to the work. Ths gentlemen of the
survey soon saw that he was going
Eighty, and. later. delirious, and they
took the responsibility OF telling the SER
geant he must be sent thither. They
made a ~fore-and-aft litter by flashing
saplings together, hitched IN a couple OF
pack mules. reped Randy inside the
thing and made a four-day march of il
Luckily. Tremaine had a capital medica1
officer and Randy a splendid constitu.
ton The fever had a big start, but DIR
Wells and Tremaine's people were utterly
devoted to him and pulled him through
but you never saw such a living skeleton
DR.. Wells says he will mend rapidly now
as he eats about six square meals a day
and Is hungry between times. Mrs. Ire
maine nursed him like a mother, HEAVIER
bless her; and now Miss Florence read:
u him by the hour"
And at this point in Whittaker's limo
cent missive Mrs. Hayne, who was cling
ing TO her husbands arm and reading
with him, suddenly looked up in his fac,
and said. 'Oh, Lawrencei wouldn't tina