The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1899-01-10

jor2"
each q dozen strong, each followed BY
its own little dust oloud, each indie
pendent apparently Of the others, yet
moving as part of one harmonious train.
Foremost the group at the head Of COL
umn had received acosssions. Fuller,
the sutler, finely mounted and bristling
with arms Of the latest and most ap-
proved pattern, backed by two sun
tanned Texans from his ranch, had over.
taken the command at neon, bent on
sharing its fortunes in the tussle antici-
,pated with the outlaws, and they were
now riding with headquarters. from
which, on the other hand, two figures
were missing-Lawrence and one Of the
orderliea As early as 2 O'Clock the ex-
captain had pushed on ahead, double
object in view, to warn Cramer's troop
Of the coming of the Worth command
and the tidings they bore of the Friday
gang, also to have little party mount
ut once and gallop northeast, ten miles
to the Saba trail-a short cut from
Worth to the San Saba pass, used by
horsemen in the rainy season. Captain
Cramer might or might not have re-
ceived warning Of the appearance of
the gang in the valley below his camp
at the springs, but the Fridays,
whoever their leader, would certainly
have friends and confederates on the
watch near Worth, friends who would
probably take that very short cut and
gallop at speed to warn the gang Of the
coming vengeance. Oddly enough, it
was not Brooks nor Lawrence who was
first to think Of this but Barclay. 1t
was his modest suggestion at the noon
halt, suggestion that was put in form
of question, that had opened the ma
jor's eyes. II remember, SIR" said he,
"that the springs lie in sort Of elbow.
The trail runs nearly east and west for
many miles beyond them, and nearly
north and south on this side. Is there
no way in which scouts could gallop
across our left and give warning to
those fellows?"
"By Jove," said Brooks, "there's the
old San Saba cut off What had we bet
ter do, Lawrence?'' And Lawrence said
to send at once sergeant with a set Of
tours to the left until they cut the trail
in order to prevent information going
to the gang that way and to report If
any horsemen had already passed, which
latter any old frontiersman could tell at
O glance. Mullane, lurching drowsily
in saddle all through the last stage, had
thrown himself on the turf and gone
sound asleep the moment the column
halted. Only with extreme difficulty
could he be aroused and made to under
stand what was wanted. Mr.. VIM,
standing silently by, turned his back on
his temporary commander He knew
the Irish captain was we'll nigh swamp
ed with liquor, and he had no wish to
bear witness against him. Those were
days SO close to the war that officers,
old and new, still thought more of what
q man had done than Of what he was
doing, and Mullane had been gallant
trooper. aye 'tind to it, sergeant,
was again the Irishman comprehensive
order to his first sergeant when at last
he grasped the significance Of Brooks
words, and five horsemen rode away at
the lope to the left front the moment
the column again mounted. Again did
Brooks see fit to caution his leading troop
commander. II am afraid you have
sampled that whisky once too often,
Mullane. No more Of it now, or you'll
go to pieces when you are most needed, "
he muttered, then rode on to the head
Of column.
And the prediction came true. At the
very next halt Mullane had fallen into
stupor SO heavy that 1t was found inn
possible to rouse him. The assistant
surgeon with the column made brief ex-
animation, then unslung and removed
the canteen at the captains pommel and
whispered his conclusion. "Better leave
his horse and orderly here with him."
"Then," said the major briefly,
swim, you command L troop" And
when again the column mounted Bar
clay rode back and directed his leading
section to incline to the right, so that
they passed the lonely little group, the
two horses placidly cropping at the
scant heritage, the orderly squatting
with averted face, filled at once with
shame and sympathy, the recumbent
figure sprawled upon the prairie, its
bloated red visage buried in the blue
sleeved arms. Barclays rearward Sec
lions instinctively followed the lead,
and only furtive glanoes were cast, and
no audible comments made. The ranks
were full of tough characters in those
days, yet imbued with a strange fidel-
ity in certain lines that reminds one Of
the dog immortalized by Bret Harte at
Red Gulch-the dog that had such deep
sympathy for a helplessly drunken man.
There was nothing in their code to pre-.
vent their stealing from Uncle Sam,
their captain, or any other victim, but
to hint that an officer or q friend was
drunk would have been the height of
impropriety.
(Tn Re Continued \