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The events of the earlier afternoon had tended to add to his disapprobation of the other. "There's something up at the store, sir, I think," he added, with a swift change of subject. "I saw men running that way just now. Here comes Bucketts!" And Bucketts came, hobbling sturdily. "It's two ranchmen, I think, and there was a shot down toward the south-east ten minutes ago."
From earliest dawn lookouts had been stationed on top of the adjutant's office at the south, and the hospital at the north edge of the parade, Bucketts having built for them a little wooden platform, with bench, shelf and sunshade, and there, with signal-service glasses, they scoured the barren wilds in every direction for sign of coming friend or foe.
"Loot'nt Willett, sir said he'd be out in a minute." But the minutes proved long, and Bucketts went in to help, if need be, and to get information, if possible. Willett had kicked off his fine uniform trousers and ununiform Oxfords, and was cursing the striker who had hidden his scouting rig. "Why the devil didn't you go as you were?" asked Bucketts unsympathetically.
"I never saw any ghost," said he, and Craney had to give it up, and report his failure to the commanding officer. "Ever try threatening him with discharge?" asked Bucketts, by way of being helpful. "Ever try? I don't have to try! The one time I started in on that lay he never let me finish; said all right, he'd go just as soon as he'd balanced the books.
"Well, I suppose Willett's glad of a chance to join his chief?" he said interrogatively, though never looking up. "Not unless looks belie him," was the answer. Bentley bent lower over his work. "No physical hindrance that I know of," said he suggestively. "It's financial, I take it," said Bucketts sturdily. "Our investigator finds it expensive here at Almy."
Even then, however, they wondered what Harris would think, and speculated as to what he would say. Bucketts had not guessed amiss when he said there was no love lost between the classmates. Bucketts, and all, had seen how much both the young men had been attracted by Lilian's grace and beauty, and the sweet, girlish freshness that proved such a charm.
Stout old Bucketts, the quartermaster, looked her straight in the eye and wished her a pleasant journey and a long and happy visit East, whereat several ladies gasped audibly, yet told it over and over afterwards with infinite delight.
Old Bucketts with his green goggles; Turner with his melancholy face and placid ways; Raymond, stern and swart; Canker, querulous and "nagging" with his men, but eager for any service; Stafford, who won his troop vice the noble-hearted Tanner whom we lost among the Apaches; Wayne, who is loquacity itself whenever he can find a listener, and who talks his patient subaltern almost deaf through the long day marches; and Crane and Wilkins, who are a good deal together at every halt, and consort more with Canker than other captains; and then there is the jolly element that ever clusters around Blake, whose spirits defy adversity, and whose merry quips and jests and boundless distortions of fact or fancy are the joy of the regiment.
There had been an awkward little conference, an impromptu affair, at the mess the morning after the alarm of fire. Willett stock had been running down before that episode, and went "plumb out of sight" for several hours. It was held by Bonner, Bucketts, Briggs and Strong a most womanish thing on his part to have raised such a row and then "wilted."
I told him I'd tell you, and now the general's shooting off his quill at the office. Hope you're better, Harris. Good-night." "Reckon I'll have to go down awhile, anyhow. Harris, what Bucketts said was true, though he oughtn't to have said it.
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