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Bessie accepted them with quiet simplicity. She knew that her grandfather was bearing the main cost of Mr. Cecil Burleigh's canvass, and she might interpret his kindnesses as gratitude: it cannot be averred that she did so interpret them, for she gave nobody her confidence, but the plea was open to her.
But he felt that he was not prospering with Miss Fairfax: she was most animated, amiable and friendly, but she was not in a propitious mood to be courted. Bessie was to go to Brentwood for the nomination-day, and to remain until the election was over. By this date it had begun to dawn on other perceptions besides Mr. Cecil Burleigh's that she was not a young lady in love.
Vic Burleigh, sit on his prostrate form. Go on, Dennie," the company insisted, and she continued. "Her name was The Fawn of the Morning Light, her best lover was Swift Elk." "You be Mrs. Swift Elk " but Vic Burleigh's arm about Trench's throat choked his words. "And there was a wily Sioux, named Red Fox, who loved the Fawn and wanted her to marry him. She wouldn't do it.
His station was at Omaha, far from the scene of cavalry exploits in fort or field. Burleigh's office and depot were in this new, crowded, bustling frontier town, filled with temptation to men so far removed from the influences of home and civilization, and Burleigh doubtless saw and knew much to warrant his generalities.
The stranger stared hard at the child, and with a sort of frightened expression, shot through the gate and mingled with the crowd. "Great protection for a cripple," the student thought, as he locked the money box. "How strong a baby's hand may be sometimes! Vic Burleigh's beef can win the game out there, but Bug has saved the day at this end of the line.
And for mortal hours that afternoon it looked as though nothing could hold Burleigh's hand. The man was livid with wrath. First he would have the youngster's blood, and then he'd dismiss him. Folsom pointed out that he couldn't well do both, and by two o'clock it simmered down to a demand for instant court-martial. Burleigh wrote a furious telegram to Omaha.
I tell you this ground is shaking. I feel it," Trench insisted. "Say, who's got the bromo-seltzer? The right guard's supper is n't treating him right. Go ahead, Dennie," the crowd urged. They were all in a circle about the fire. Its flickering glow lighted Vic Burleigh's rugged face, and gleamed in his auburn hair. Elinor sat between him and Vincent Burgess.
In less than four minutes of sharp, stinging fight, gallant Sergeant Carey is stretched on the turf, with a shattered elbow, Corporal Burke and two troopers are shot dead, Loring, with white, set face and a scorching seam along the left cheek, seizes a dropped carbine and thrusts it into Burleigh's shaking hands. "Up with you, man!" he cries. "It's your scalp you're fighting for.
He took the other's wrists in his hand, and suddenly holding them in the grip of a vice, whipped out something from his pocket something hard and cold, which snapped suddenly on Burleigh's wrists, and held them fast. "That's right," said the sergeant; "keep quiet." The constable turned round in amaze; Burleigh sprang toward him furiously. "Take these things off!" he choked. "Have you gone mad?
His expedition to the West Indies might never have been undertaken had he not been a dare-devil fellow, to whom Burleigh's wink was as good as a nod to be off. He slipped out of port unknown to her, and his first prize was a large Spanish ship loaded with salt fish. He pounced upon her after passing Ushant, and the excellent cargo was suitably distributed amongst the fleet.
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