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The Indians suffered much more heavily than the Americans; in killed they probably lost two or three times as many. Among the dead were white men from Caldwell's company; and one white ranger was captured.
He took the west-bound train that night. A pall seemed to have settled over Willets. The atmosphere was tense, strained. Riders from Caldwell's ranch, from Sigmund's, from Lester's and from other ranches came in; and important-looking men from various sections of the state alighted from the trains at the station and lingered long in the dingy foyer of the hotel.
"I am surprised, dear, but the other idea I did not mean to convey. My surprise was because of Mr Caldwell's well-known deliberation and caution." "Yes; the offer, even if it go no further, is a feather in Phil's cap," said Jem. "But Mr Caldwell is a shrewd old gentleman, though he be a little slow. He knows what he is about."
None of the younger men ventured a word. Finally Judge Girvin, with a belated idea of upholding the honour of the bench, turned to Keith. "Judge Caldwell's humour is a little trying at times, but he is essentially sound." The young Englishman, Morrell, uttered a high cackle. "Quite right," he observed; "he'll fix it all right for you, Markle."
We dug a trench straight up the hillside, by Old Man Caldwell's Spring, through blue clay an' a yellowish kind o' gravel. But the spring wasted down the slope, so we stopped work on the trench an' commenced to sink a pit to collect the water an' make a reservoir. We hadn't sunk more 'an four feet when we struck a darker an' heavier soil, which sparkled as we shovelled it above ground.
A determined struggle follows: the enemy even assume the aggressive against Caldwell's center, but are beaten off by the quick and resolute action of Barlow, who falls desperately wounded." Gen. Caldwell in his report, says, "The brigade advanced steadily over the crest of the hill behind which the enemy were posted, receiving and returning a heavy fire.
But there seemed to be no way to fight; there seemed to be nothing tangible upon which to build a hope, and no way to attack the secret, subtle force which had so arrogantly thwarted them. There was an uneasy light in Caldwell's eyes when he finally looked up at Lawler. He frowned, reddened, and spoke haltingly, as though ashamed: "Lawler, I reckon they've got us foul.
Those men go to their graves masked." Again the strange twinge of pain crossed John Caldwell's face. "Ah, I see," exclaimed Hare. Then quickly: "I couldn't recognize the other man anyhow; I don't know him. But Mescal can tell. He saved her and I'll save him. But how?" Every rustler, except the masked ones standing stern and silent, clamored that he was the one to be saved.
He's agreed to deliver those goods to the Bradlaughs by the first of April, you know, and Holster, of the Clarendon, swears it can't be done, he says Ditmar's crazy. Well, I stand to lose twenty-five dollars on him." This loyalty pleased Janet, it had the strange effect of reviving loyalty in her. She liked this evidence of Dick Caldwell's confidence.
It was near sundown when he rode Black Bolly into White Sage, and took the back road, and the pasture lane to Bishop Caldwell's cottage. John, one of the Bishop's sons, was in the barn-yard and ran to open the gate. "Mescal!" cried Hare. "Safe," replied the Mormon. "Have you hidden her?" "She's in a secret cave, a Mormon hiding-place for women. Only a few men know of its existence.
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