Part 13

The man Oliver was in the jail at Las Animas last summer for stealing horses. The old jail was very shaky, and while it was being made more secure, he and another man--a wife murderer--were brought to the guardhouse at this post. They finally took them back, and Oliver promptly made his escape, and the sheriff had actually been afraid to re-arrest him. We have all begged Faye to get out a warrant for the man, but he says it would simply be a farce, that the sheriff would pay no attention to it. The whole left side of Faye's face is badly swollen and very painful, and the wound in his ankle compels him to use a cane. Just how the man managed to shoot Faye in the ankle no one seems to understand.

Granada must be a terrible place! The very afternoon Faye was there a Mexican was murdered in the main street, but not the slightest attention was paid to the shooting--everything went right on as though it was an everyday occurrence. The few respectable people are afraid even to try to keep order.

Dodge City used to be that way and there was a reign of terror in the town, until finally the twelve organized vigilantes became desperate and took affairs in their own hands. They notified six of the leading desperadoes that they must be out of the place by a certain day and hour. Four went, but two were defiant and remained. When the specified hour had passed, twelve double-barreled shotguns were loaded with buckshot, and in a body the vigilantes hunted these men down as they would mad dogs and riddled each one through and through with the big shot! It was an awful thing to do, but it seems to have been absolutely necessary and the only way of establishing law and order. Our friends at Fort Dodge tell us that the place is now quite decent, and that a man can safely walk in the streets without pistols and a belt full of cartridges.

FORT LYON, COLORADO TERRITORY, October, 1873.

ONE naturally looks for all sorts of thrilling experiences when out on the frontier, but to have men and things mix themselves up in a maddening way in one's very own house, as has recently been done in mine, is something not usually counted upon. To begin with, Mrs. Rae is with us, and her coming was not only most unlocked for up to two days ago, but through a wretched mistake in a telegram she got here just twenty-four hours before we thought she would arrive. Ordinarily this would have been a delightful surprise, but, unfortunately, things had begun to "mix!"

Faye had suffered so much from the wound in his head that very little attention had been given the house since my return from the East, therefore it was not in the very best of order. It was closed during my two months' absence, as Faye had lived down with the bachelors. The very day that Mrs. Rae came the quartermaster had sent a man to repair one of the chimneys, and plaster and dirt had been left in my room, the one I had intended Mrs. Rae to occupy. And then, to make matters just as bad as possible, there was a sand storm late in the afternoon that had, of course, sifted dust over all things.

But this was not all! My nerves had not recovered from the shock at Granada, and had given out entirely that day just before dinner, and had sent me to bed with an uncomfortable chill. Still, I was not disheartened. Before I went East many things had been put away, but West had unpacked and polished the silver several days before, and the glass was shining and the china closets in perfect order, all of which had been attended to with my own hands. Besides, the wife of one of the sergeants was to come the next morning to dust and clean the little house from top to bottom, so there was really nothing to worry about, as everything would be in order long before time for the stage to arrive that would bring Mrs. Rae.

But after the chill came a fever, and with the fever came dreams, most disturbing dreams, in which were sounds of crunching gravel, then far-away voices--voices that I seemed to have heard in another world. A door was opened, and then--oh! how can I ever tell you--in the hall came Faye's mother! By that time dreams had ceased, and it was cruel reality that had to be faced, and even now I wonder how I lived through the misery of that moment--the longing to throw myself out of the window, jump in the river, do anything, in fact, but face the mortification of having her see the awful condition of her son's house!

Her son's house--that was just it. I did not care at all for myself, my only thought was for Faye whose mother might find cause to pity him for the delinquencies of his wife! First impressions are indelible, and it would be difficult to convince Mrs. Rae ever that the house was not always dusty and untidy. How could she know that with pride I had ever seen that our house, however rough it might have been, was clean and cheerful. And of what use would it be to arrange things attractively now? She would be justified in supposing that it was only in its company dress.

I was weak and dizzy from fever and a sick heart, but I managed to get dressed and go down to do the best I could. West prepared a little supper, and we made things as comfortable as possible, considering the state of affairs. Mrs. Rae was most lovely about everything--said she understood it all. But that could not be, not until she had seen one of our sand storms, from the dust of which it is impossible to protect a thing. I have been wishing for a storm ever since, so Mrs. Rae could see that I was not responsible for the condition of things that night.

Now this was not all--far, far from it. On the way out in the cars, Mrs. Rae met the colonel of the regiment--a real colonel, who is called a colonel, too--who was also on his way to this post, and with him was Lieutenant Whittemore, a classmate of Faye's. Colonel Fitz-James was very courteous to Mrs. Rae, and when they reached Kit Carson he insisted upon her coming over with him in the ambulance that had been sent to meet him. This was very much more comfortable than riding in the old stage, so she gladly accepted, and to show her appreciation of the kindness, she invited the colonel, also Lieutenant Whittemore, to dine with us the following evening!

Yes, there is still more, for it so happens that Colonel Fitz-James is known to be an epicure, to be fussy and finical about all things pertaining to the table, and what is worse takes no pains to disguise it, and in consequence is considered an undesirable dinner guest by the most experienced housekeepers in the regiment. All this I had often heard, and recalled every word during the long hours of that night as I was making plans for the coming day. The combination in its entirety could not have been more formidable. There was Faye's mother, a splendid housekeeper--her very first day in our house. His colonel and an abnormally sensitive palate--his very first meeting with each of us. His classmate, a young man of much wealth--a perfect stranger to me. A soldier cook, willing, and a very good waiter, but only a plain everyday cook; certainly not a maker of dainty dishes for a dinner party. And my own experiences in housekeeping had been limited to log huts in outlandish places.

Every little thing for that dinner had to be prepared in our own house. There was no obliging caterer around the corner where a salad, an ice, and other things could be hurriedly ordered; not even one little market to go to for fish, flesh, or fowl; only the sutler's store, where their greatest dainty is "cove" oysters! Fortunately there were some young grouse in the house which I had saved for Mrs. Rae and which were just right for the table, and those West could cook perfectly.

So with a head buzzing from quinine I went down in the morning, and with stubborn determination that the dinner should be a success, I proceeded to carry out the plans I had decided upon during the night.

The house was put in splendid order and the dinner prepared, and Colonel Knight was invited to join us. I attempted only the dishes that could be served well--nothing fancy or difficult--and the sergeant's wife remained to assist West in the kitchen. It all passed off pleasantly and most satisfactorily, and Colonel Fitz-James could not have been more agreeable, although he looked long and sharply at the soldier when he first appeared in the dining room. But he said not a word; perhaps he concluded it must be soldier or no dinner. I have been told several nice things he said about that distracting dinner before leaving the garrison. But it all matters little to me now, since it was not found necessary to take me to a lunatic asylum!

Mrs. Rae saw in a paper that Faye had been shot by a desperado, and was naturally much alarmed, so she sent a telegram to learn what had happened, and in reply Faye telegraphed for her to come out, and fearing that he must be very ill she left Boston that very night. But we understood that she would start the next day, and this misinterpretation caused my undoing--that and the sand storm.

That man Oliver has at last been arrested and is now in the jail at Las Animas, chained with another man--a murderer--to a post in the dark cellar. This is because he has so many times threatened the jailer. He says that some day he will get out, and then his first act will be to kill the keeper, and the next to kill Lieutenant Rae. He also declares that Faye kicked him when he was in the guardhouse at the post. Of course anyone with a knowledge of military discipline would know this assertion to be false, for if Faye had done such a thing as that, he might have been court-martialed.

The sheriff was actually afraid to make the arrest the first time he went over, because so many of Oliver's friends were in town, and so he came back without him, although he saw him several times. The second trip, however, Oliver was taken off guard and was handcuffed and out of the town before he had a chance to rally his friends to his assistance. He was brought to Las Animas during the night to avoid any possibility of a lynching. The residents of the little town are full of indignation that the man should have attempted to kill an officer of this garrison. He is a horse thief and desperado, and made his escape from their jail several months back, so altogether they consider that the country can very well do without him. I think so, too, and wish every hour in the day that the sheriff had been less cautious. Oliver cannot be tried until next May, when the general court meets, and I am greatly distressed over this fact, for the jail is old and most insecure, and he may get out at any time. The fear and dread of him is on my mind day and night.

FORT LYON, COLORADO TERRITORY, December, 1873.

EVERYONE in the garrison seems to be more or less in a state of collapse! The bal masque is over, the guests have departed, and all that is left to us now are the recollections of a delightful party that gave full return for our efforts to have it a success.

We did not dream that so many invitations would be accepted at far-away posts, that parties would come from Fort Leavenworth, Fort Riley, Fort Dodge, and Fort Wallace, for a long ambulance ride was necessary from each place. But we knew of their coming in time to make preparations for all, so there was no confusion or embarrassment. Every house on the officers' line was filled to overflowing and scarcely a corner left vacant.

The new hospital was simply perfect for an elaborate entertainment. The large ward made a grand ballroom, the corridors were charming for promenading, and, yes, flirting, the dining room and kitchen perfect for the supper, and the office and other small rooms were a nice size for cloak rooms. Of course each one of these rooms, big and small, had to be furnished. In each dressing room was a toilet table fitted out with every little article that might possibly be needed during the evening, both before and after the removal of masks. All this necessitated much planning, an immense amount of work, and the stripping of our own houses. But there were a good many of us, and the soldiers were cheerful assistants. I was on the supper committee, which really dwindled down to a committee of one at the very last, for I was left alone to put the finishing touches to the tables and to attend to other things. The vain creatures seemed more interested in their own toilets, and went home to beautify themselves.

The commanding officer kept one eye, and the quartermaster about a dozen eyes upon us while we were decorating, to see that no injury was done to the new building. But that watchfulness was unnecessary, for the many high windows made the fastening of flags an easy matter, as we draped them from the casing of one window to the casing of the next, which covered much of the cold, white walls and gave an air of warmth and cheeriness to the rooms. Accoutrements were hung everywhere, every bit of brass shining as only an enlisted man can make it shine, and the long infantry rifles with fixed bayonets were "stacked" whereever they would not interfere with the dancing.

Much of the supper came from Kansas City--that is, the celery, fowls, and material for little cakes, ices, and so on--and the orchestra consisted of six musicians from the regimental band at Fort Riley. The floor of the ballroom was waxed perfectly, but it is hoped by some of us that much of the lightning will be taken from it before the hospital cots and attendants are moved in that ward.

Everybody was en masque and almost everyone wore fancy dress and some of the costumes were beautiful. The most striking figure in the rooms, perhaps, was Lieutenant Alden, who represented Death! He is very tall and very slender, and he had on a skintight suit of dark-brown drilling, painted from crown to toe with thick white paint to represent the skeleton of a human being; even the mask that covered the entire head was perfect as a skull. The illusion was a great success, but it made one shiver to see the awful thing walking about, the grinning skull towering over the heads of the tallest. And ever at its side was a red devil, also tall, and so thin one wondered what held the bones together. This red thing had a long tail. The devil was Lieutenant Perkins, of course.

Faye and Doctor Dent were dressed precisely alike, as sailors, the doctor even wearing a pair of Faye's shoes. They had been very sly about the twin arrangement, which was really splendid, for they are just about the same size and have hair very much the same color. But smart as they were, I recognized Faye at once. The idea of anyone thinking I would not know him!

We had queens and milkmaids and flower girls galore, and black starry nights and silvery days, and all sorts of things, many of them very elegant. My old yellow silk, the two black lace flounces you gave me, and a real Spanish mantilla that Mrs. Rae happened to have with her, made a handsome costume for me as a Spanish lady. I wore almost all the jewelry in the house; every piece of my own small amount and much of Mrs. Rae's, the nicest of all having been a pair of very large old-fashioned "hoop" earrings, set all around with brilliants. My comb was a home product, very showy, but better left to the imagination.

The dancing commenced at nine o'clock, and at twelve supper was served, when we unmasked, and after supper we danced again and kept on dancing until five o'clock! Even then a few of us would have been willing to begin all over, for when again could we have such a ballroom with perfect floor and such excellent music to dance by? But with the new day came a new light and all was changed, much like the change of a ballet with a new calcium light, only ours was not beautifying, but most trying to tired, painted faces; and seeing each other we decided that we could not get home too fast. In a few days the hospital will be turned over to the post-surgeon, and the beautiful ward will be filled with iron cots and sick soldiers, and instead of delicate perfumes, the odor of nauseous drugs will pervade every place.