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Updated: May 25, 2025
We had tea at five, Blakely and I, on the roof of the hotel. I looked across the channel to the distant islands, followed the sweet contour of the shore, watched the aimless flight of sea-gulls; turning, I scanned the friendly hills, the mountains painted in the tender colors of late afternoon I looked into Blakely's eyes. It was a beautiful world, after all.
Men, mounts, scouts, mules and packers, all, were there at his behest; but, with Wren in arrest, Sanders and Lynn back but a week from a long prod through the Black Mesa country far as Fort Apache, Blakely invalided and Duane a boy second lieutenant, his choice of cavalry officers was limited. It never occurred to him to look beyond. "What's the immediate need of a scout?" said he.
Then, too, I knew I was looking my very best; my white lace gown was a dream; Valentine had never done my hair so becomingly. When Blakely called at our rooms for Dad and me, I was not at all unhappy. And the dear boy was so relieved to see it! I will confess, however, to one moment of real terror as we approached the drawing room where we were to join our hostess.
"If what old Toyah tells me is true," said he, "and I believe him, Hualpai or Apache Mohave, there isn't a decent Indian in this part of Arizona that wouldn't give his own scalp to save Blakely." Mrs. Bridger did not tell this at the time, for she had said too much the other way; but, on this fifth day of our hero's absence, there came tidings that unloosed her lips.
They're coming!" cried the voice of the German soldier at the wall, and wrenching his wrist from the clasp of the dying man, Blakely sprang recklessly to his feet and to the mouth of the cave just as Stern's carbine broke the stillness with resounding roar. Half a dozen rifles barked their instant echo among the rocks. From up the hillside rose a yell of savage hate and another of warning.
"Is the doctor here or Steward Griffin?" spoke the lady, to the room at large, looking beyond the lieutenant and toward the single soldier attendant present. "The doctor and the steward are both at home just now, Miss Wren," said Blakely. "May I offer you a chair?" Miss Wren preferred to stand. "I wish to speak with Steward Griffin," said she again.
"You have said more than enough. Let us start afresh now with better understanding." "It it is generous in you, Blakely. I misjudged everything everybody, and now, well, you know there are still Hotspurs in the service. I'm thinking some man may be ass enough to say you got a blow without resenting "
In this order they filed aboard softly, arrived at Noakes's den, the quartermaster pushed the door open, and the lantern revealed the three desperadoes sitting on the floor. Capt. Ned said: "I'm Ned Blakely. I've got you under fire. Don't you move without orders any of you. You two kneel down in the corner; faces to the wall now. Bill Noakes, put these handcuffs on; now come up close.
Still, his absence rather put me out of humor with tea, so I sent Valentine for a box of chocolates. When she returned I sat down with them and a novel, prepared to spend the rest of the afternoon alone. The novel wasn't half as silly as some I've read the hero reminded me of Blakely and the chocolates were unusually good; I was having a much better time than I had expected.
Blakely had little the look of a squire of dames as, thus maimed and scarred and swathed in blood-stained cotton, he peered down the deep and shadowy cleft and searched with eyes keen, if yet unskilled, every visible section of the opposite wall. What could their silence mean?
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