* * *
Dusty left the sutler’s building and strode after Magoon who had come to a halt, laid the groaning Kallan on the ground and stood looking towards the sutler’s. The big Irishman’s look of worry left his face as he saw Dusty come through the door and relief took its place. He stood over Kallan and waited until Dusty came up.
‘Thought it’d be best if I didn’t go into the Fort carrying Slasher, sir,’ Magoon stated.
‘You thought right. The sentry’ll likely think things if he heard the shots from the sutler’s.’
‘Which he won’t, way the wind’s blowing, Cap’n darlin’,’ said Magoon.
Dropping to one knee Dusty looked down at Kallan. The sergeant forced himself up on to one elbow and rubbed the back of his neck with the other hand. He gave a grunt of pain and then looked towards Dusty. The hate had left his eyes and sanity returned to them once more.
‘I’m sorry I had to do that, Kallan,’ Dusty said. ‘But I thought you’d kill Madlarn happen you laid hands on him.’
‘I would have, sir. Thank you for stopping me.’
‘Do you want to take the rest of the day off?’ asked Dusty. ‘Go home and see your wife?’
Slowly Kallan forced himself to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so. He shook his head and winced in pain.
‘No, sir. I’d better not see Noreen until I cool off a mite.’
‘It’s your choice, Sergeant.’
‘With the cap’n’s permission,’ Magoon put in. ‘About Madlam and them shots I heard?’
‘I asked him to pull up stakes and haul out of here,’ answered Dusty in a voice which dared Magoon take the matter further.
Magoon knew better. In the few days he’d known Dusty the big sergeant could read the signs and knew when to clamp shut his mouth. Right now was such a time and it would not be wise to cross Dusty.
‘I’d like to show you the site I selected for the sabre training area, sir,’ Kallan said quietly.
‘I’ll come. Are you coming, Magoon?’
‘Yes, sir—’ began Magoon, then realized he’d given the wrong answer from the cold look on Dusty’s face. ‘No, sir. I’ve duties to attend to.’
With that he threw a salute which Dusty returned, swung on his heel to head for the gate and give the sentry, who inquired about the shooting, some good and sound advice about minding his own business.
‘I never reckoned a lot of things about Magoon until you took over, Captain Fog,’ Kallan replied. ‘You were right not to tell him to keep quiet about what he saw. Paddy Magoon’d not open his mouth about it.’
They walked along without speaking for a time. Dusty threw a glance towards the sutler’s building where, at the corral, Tuck and Kete were collecting horses. It looked as if Madlarn had taken Dusty’s words to heart and was getting out while he could, running like a stray cur dog after a whipping. All in all Dusty preferred that to happen for he did not wish to kill the man unless forced into it.
‘What do you aim to do about your wife?’ Dusty asked. Kallan did not reply immediately. The man strode along as smart as if on the parade square and with his face wooden in its lack of expression. At last he turned towards Dusty.
‘I don’t know for sure, sir. I’ll have to think about it.’
‘Sure. It’s your decision whichever way it goes.’
Noreen Kallan’s flight from the sutler’s building came to a halt as she approached the Fort. She did not intend the sentry to see her apparent haste and so slowed to a walk. It took a few seconds for her to catch her breath but she was in full control of herself as she approached the sentry. He nodded a greeting to which she replied with a smile that took some bringing.
For the first time Noreen had been caught in the act. She knew Slasher had suspected her of numerous little flirtations, not all of them innocent. Never had he been given definite proof. Strangely, she did not fear his anger, knowing it would be directed more against the man than her. Even more strangely in her own way Noreen loved her husband. She realized she’d never been cut out as a career soldier’s wife, with all it entailed in the matter of helping her husband up the promotion ladder. If word of this latest incident got out it would ruin his chances of ever rising higher in rank.
At first she thought of heading for home and collecting a few belongings to aid her in her flight. She knew she must go and go fast before she met Slasher and allowed him to talk her into staying, for talk to her about it he would. So she changed her mind, deciding against the house. Instead she would find somewhere and somebody to help her get away.
To leave Fort Tucker called for horses, it also called for a good-sized escort, as there were many miles of bad country, between the Fort and the better populated areas to the east. She guessed Madlarn, unless dead, would be leaving but she wanted no more of the man.
Just what brought the rushers to Noreen’s mind she never knew. It might have been thinking about Madlarn which recalled the problem of the gold-hungry men to her thoughts. The rushers, or the right sort of rushers, were well armed, they had transport and would help her out, if she had something more than her body to offer in exchange.
Noreen halted and looked around her. Chance caused her to halt where she did, looking towards the rear of the office buildings and the door to Dusty Fog’s office. She turned and walked towards the building, looking about her. Nobody was in sight so she turned the handle of the door and pushed. It opened and nobody appeared to be inside. Cautiously Noreen peered in, the room was empty. She stepped in, closing the door behind her.
Crossing to Dusty’s desk she looked at it. The top was clear of papers, only an unloaded Army Colt which Dusty used as a paperweight lay on top. For a moment Noreen stood uncertain as to what would be her best plan. Then she went towards the desk and was about to open the drawers when she heard the party door between the office and orderly room opening. It did not come fully open and she heard a voice at the other side, a woman’s voice.
‘I’ll just check if Captain Fog left any paper work he wants attending to, Corporal,’ said Joanna Lingley, for Noreen recognized the girl’s voice.
Picking up the revolver Noreen darted to the hinges side of the party door and stood flattened against the wall. She knew there’d be no time for her to get out of the rear door and that Joanna would see it closing, then investigate, if she tried. She knew the girl helped Dusty with the office work, just as Joanna helped her father before his death. Noreen also knew Joanna was going to want an explanation if she caught another woman in the office, more so a woman like Noreen who took little or no interest in the doings of the army.
Joanna did not suspect a thing as she entered the room. Nor did she see Noreen who was hidden by the door. Joanna entered the office, closing the door behind her without a glance at anything but the desk. The girl walked forward and Noreen, gripping the revolver by its barrel, followed.
Some instinct must have warned the girl for she started to turn. Before she could make it or have a chance to see who followed her it was too late. Noreen swung the gun up and brought it down again, the butt thudding on to Joanna’s head and dropped the girl as if she’d been pole-axed. There was little noise, beyond the low thud and a slightly louder one when Joanna collapsed but apparently the man in the next room had heard something. Noreen was staring at the girl when she heard a knock on the door.
‘Are you all right, Miss Lingley?’ called the orderly room corporal from the other side.
Noreen drew in a deep breath. If she didn’t answer the corporal would come in and she’d be in worse trouble. She took a chance on the walls and door distorting her voice sufficiently.
‘It’s all right, Corporal,’ she replied. ‘I knocked something over.’
The reply seemed to satisfy the man for he did not call again. Noreen stood for a moment looking down at Joanna, then dropped to her knees and turned the girl’s head to one side. Joanna groaned slightly but did not open her eyes and Noreen could see no signs of blood. Joanna’s hair, worn piled on top of her head, must have prevented more serious damage from the blow, even though she’d been knocked unconscious by it. Yet she might recover and raise an outcry before Noreen finished her work and got clear.
Now she’d committed herself Noreen became cool and calm, thinking every move out. First she stripped Joanna’s shoes and stockings, using the latter to secure the girl’s wrists and gag her. Then she rolled Joanna closer to the desk so that even if she recovered she would be unable to see who stood at the other side. With this done Noreen returned to the other side and opened the top drawers. In the second Noreen found what she sought.
Despite her apparent lack of interest in the army Noreen knew that copies of the sealed patrol routes would be kept. This was why she took the chance to get into Dusty’s office. If she could find the reports she’d have something with which to bargain for a trip to the east.
Taking the topmost papers from the small pile in the desk she read them and knew it to be what she needed. Carefully she arranged the other papers in the desk and closed it again. She looked around the room and her eyes fell on the locked pay chest. She went to it, examining it and wondering how she could leave the impression that somebody tried to break open the lock. Her eyes feel on the empty revolver. Crossing the desk she took it up and went back to the box, inserting the barrel through the curved bar of the lock and straining at it. She left the revolver hanging in the lock and made her way towards the rear door. A thought came to her and she ripped a length from her petticoat, crossed and secured Joanna’s ankles, then she went to the rear door. Opening it cautiously Noreen looked out but could see nobody. So she slipped out, made her way across the Fort, keeping a wary eye on the houses of Suds Row.
Leaving the Fort by the west gate she took the trail towards Shacktown, the orders hidden in her frock bosom. She did not know how long she had before Joanna was discovered, but hoped to be able to get a fair start.
Noreen knew this time she’d definitely gone too far and could never return to the Fort again. She felt more than a little sad for, no matter how she acted, she loved her husband and did not want him to be the loser by her actions.
CHAPTER NINE
Noreen Kallan walked along the main, and only, Street of Shacktown. Town was something of a grandiloquent name for there were only four wooden buildings, the saloon, two stores and a smaller establishment which lay back from the street and where dwelled several young women and one older; they catered for the desires of the womanless rushers. Scattered along the Street were a few dugouts, made by ambitious rushers who planned to stay safe in Shacktown and slip across the Belle Pourche to snatch up small quantities of gold, then slip out again before either the Sioux or cavalry might catch them. Interspersed among the dugouts and wooden buildings were tents of other rushers. Once, not too many days ago, there had been a much larger number of citizens in Shacktown but since Dusty’s patrols began their vigorous operations many men had pulled up stakes and headed for some area which did not have such efficient policing.
Walking slowly along the Street Noreen kept both eyes open for the sort of men she wanted. She was no fool and meant to see that the men she selected to help her would be the sort to carry out their word, also the kind of men who dared take the risks involved.
For this reason she ignored the cat-house, although she knew full well what it was. She showed no interest in the stores for their owners were men more concerned with prying gold from the pokes of the rushers than in risking their own necks to fetch it from beyond the Belle Pourche. The saloon never entered her calculations for Noreen knew she could expect no help at all from Lewis. He would like the information she carried, there was no doubt of that, but he would not arrange for her to benefit by it.
Noreen had almost reached the end of the town when she saw what she wanted. There were five men in the party and from the look of things were all set to either make a try at running the patrol blockade, or head out for pastures new. Whatever the reason for it the men were packed and ready to leave. She studied the horses of the men, then glanced at the small wagon with its harnessed, two-horse team. Five would be a good number, for Noreen knew there was safety in numbers and five was neither too great nor too small. The men themselves looked like typical hardrock miners who knew their business, not greenhands fresh from the east, filled with the desire to obtain wealth if not the ability to do so.
‘Howdy, ma’am,’ greeted the big, red shirted and bearded man who appeared to be the leader of the party. He removed his hat and stepped forward. ‘Can we help you?’
‘I figure it might be the other way around,’ she answered, smiling, her eyes flickering from man to man and read their interest in her.
‘How d’you mean, ma’am?’
‘You’ve got something I want and I’ve something you can use,’ Noreen replied to the big man’s question. ‘So we ought to be able to get along.’
Studying Noreen the man frowned. He knew the women at the cat-house and the half a dozen or so girls who worked for Lewis at the saloon. Noreen was none of them, which meant she came from the Fort. His eyes went to her left hand, noting the wedding ring. Then he looked her over, studying the way her gingham frock clung to her rich, full body. The dress was not that of a calico cat or a saloon girl, nor was it what a respectable lady might wear.
‘I still don’t get it, ma’am,’ he finally said.
‘You boys look as if you’re going to try and get across the Belle Pourche.’
‘Maybe are, maybe ain’t,’ answered the man.
‘Be a lot easier if you knew where the patrols are likely to be, wouldn’t it?’
Now she had them interested, all of them. They were the sort of men who could find gold, enough for all of them, including herself, once across the river.
‘You’re right there, ma’am,’ admitted the big man, as the rumble of talk rose from his friends. ‘But we’ve heard as how that new captain at the Fort’s ordered his men to play rough with any rushers they catch. I ain’t fixing to tangle with the cavalry in a fight when they’ve got the law behind them.’
‘It’d be different if you knew how to avoid them though, wouldn’t it?’
Noreen could read the interest Plainly enough now. She’d got the help she needed happen she played her cards right. Slowly she reached up and pulled the papers from the front of her frock. She opened it out but did not offer to hand it to the man.
‘This’s the orders for the patrols which are out,’ she remarked. ‘With them we could miss the Soldiers and get across the river.’
‘We, ma’am?’ asked the big rusher.
‘We! I’m not handing this over unless I go with you, both in and east when we’ve taken enough gold.’
A mutter rose from among the men and the big miner, whose name appeared to be Frank, joined the others, sinking to his haunches and talking. Noreen stepped forward and leaned on the side of the wagon watching the men.
‘Where’d you get them from, ma’am?’ asked one of the men, ‘They might not be right.’
‘They’re right. I took them from Captain Fog’s desk and we’d best get moving before they’re missed.’
The words brought a further burst of muttering from among the men. One threw a scared look in the direction of the Fort. The others seemed to be in agreement and Noreen decided she’d best hurry matters along.
‘Well, do we have a deal, or do I try some of the others?’
Frank came to his feet, ‘Why’re you doing this?’
‘Because I want to get away from my husband and a Soldier’s pay doesn’t give me enough to do it,’ she replied frankly. ‘And before you ask me, Slasher was a damned good husband too good for the likes of me. You’ve got your choice, make it fast or I’m going.’
‘Let Frank take a look at them reports, ma’am,’ suggested one of the men.
‘Not without Your promise to take me along.’
‘You got my word, ma’am’ Frank grunted. ‘Reckon you can trust it?’
‘Sure. I know which way you’re headed and unless you take me I’ll make such a fuss that others’ll follow you and I’ll tell Captain Fog where you’re headed. So you’ve everything to lose by not keeping your word.’
Holding out his hand for the report Frank chuckled. The woman, whatever her reason for leaving her husband, had a lot of sense and sand to burn. He looked at the top sheet of the report and saw that it appeared to be genuine enough. On reading it through Frank could tell it would do all the woman claimed, show them a way to avoid the patrols. He knew the Belle Pourche well, knew the names given to the various fords and bends by the army. From the patrol orders he could tell just where to go without running into soldiers.
‘You got a deal, ma’am,’ he said, handing her the report. ‘Come with us as we go in. On the way out we’ll run to the east and you can leave us at Yankton if you like.’
‘I’ll ride the wagon, we can talk as we go,’ Noreen replied. ‘I don’t know what start we’ll have but let’s make the most of it.’
Frank helped Noreen on to the box of the wagon which was driven by the youngest member of the party, a slim youth who blushed furiously when she smiled at him. The others mounted their horses and Frank waved the wagon to start, He took the point of the patrol himself and headed away from the town.
Knowing they’d been watched by some of the nearby rushers Frank did not go in the direction he’d decided on at first. He used much the same tactics as the cavalry patrols in that he kept a careful watch on the back trail until out of sight of the town. Then, when sure nobody followed, Frank swung his horse and led the others way to the north, making for an area the cavalry patrols did not cover.
Watching the range slip by Noreen felt emotions churning inside her. She hated herself for what she’d done. It seemed that ever since she’d met him she’d spoiled Slasher’s career and now she’d done this. It was something of a relief to know that Captain Fog would not blame Slasher for her actions. In time she would be forgotten and her husband could mend the career she’d spoiled.
To get rid of the thoughts Noreen turned to the young man but as a conversationalist he proved to be a failure for he blushed and stammered, his sole topic being to gasp, ‘Shucks ma’am,’ whenever she spoke.
So Noreen felt pleased when Frank brought his horse around and came to ride by her side. He looked up at her for a moment as if trying to sort out his words, then finally he asked:
‘Everything all right?’
‘Sure,’ she answered, watching one of the other men taking the point as scout. ‘My name’s Noreen. Say, I’m not a bad cook, so I’ll do all the cooking and maybe some washing and clothes mending, that’ll make up for my not being much use at digging.’
‘That’ll set well with the boys. It’s been some time since we tried any woman’s fixings.’
‘How much further to the Belle Pourche?’
‘About seven miles to the crossing we want. We aren’t going the straightest route though.’
‘No, that wouldn’t be wise.’
‘There’s a patrol due back today and I reckon the way we’re going ought to let us miss them.’
Noreen looked around the side of the wagon, peering into the distance. She almost hoped to see the rising dust which would tell that the papers were missed and a patrol was after them. Behind she could see nothing at all but the range, the rugged country through which they travelled did not offer chances of seeing, or being seen from any distance.
‘You reckon your husband’ll be after you?’ asked Frank.
‘Maybe. If he’s any sense he’ll let me go, I’m trouble for him, Frank.’
‘I don’t reckon you could be trouble for any man,’ Frank replied, his eyes on her face.
She shook her head. ‘Don’t count on it. Once across the Belle Pourche and back with the gold you’ll show good sense if you leave me at Yankton.’
‘Never was one for showing good sense.’
The words disturbed Noreen. She did not want trouble among the men and she knew it might come unless she watched her step every minute of the time. Noreen did not know which would be her best bet, let the others know from the start that she was Frank’s woman, or keep them all at bay.
The thoughts kept Noreen occupied, that and talking with Frank, until they saw the water of the Belle Pourche ahead. Frank showed that he was not exactly unaware of the danger which they found themselves in. He left the wagon and the others hidden in a draw while he rode down to the river and made a thorough scout of the banks. He’d brought them to the area he wanted and almost directly to a ford he’d known about and hoped to try, but could not, due to the danger of being caught by a cavalry patrol. This day he could cross in safety for there were no patrols in the vicinity.
Taking off his hat Frank waved it around his head and the rest of his party moved forward. On the wagon box Noreen watched them drawing ever nearer to the river. Her every instinct told her she could still go back, but once across the Belle Pourche it would be too late. She steeled herself, gripping the side of the jolting wagon as it made for the ford.
‘Get your ropes on the wagon, boys!’ yelled Frank. ‘The bottom’s sand and it might stick.’
For all their worries on that score the crossing was made with little difficulty and Frank told them to hide on the Sioux’s side while he scouted around once more. The others let him go, knowing they could trust him and could rely on his judgment to pick a good spot for their efforts.
Inside fifteen minutes Frank returned with news that he’d found a spot which might suit their needs. The others followed, although now they showed much caution for they’d passed beyond the control of the United States cavalry and were in the land of the Sioux. If the Sioux caught them death would be preferable to what they would get.
‘Trust ole Frank to pick the right kind of place’, remarked one of the men as they approached the spot which Frank selected for their mining operations.
Noreen looked down at the small stream, one of many which fed the Belle Pourche. It wound along the floor of a small valley, the bushy slopes of which offered good cover for them. Frank ordered the young driver to take the wagon to a small clearing on the edge of the stream, where they could make their camp and wash the gold from the gravel and riffles of the stream.
The oldest member of the party jumped from his horse and gave a broad grin as he looked at the others.
‘I can smell the gold from here,’ he said excitedly. ‘Let’s get to washing it, boys.’
‘Yeah, we don’t want to stay here any longer than we can help,’ agreed Frank. ‘We’ll wash gold all today and maybe tomorrow, then we’ll slip out in the dark.’
He helped Noreen down from the wagon and she looked around her. ‘Where do I start cooking?’
‘You don’t until after dark,’ he answered. ‘Then you’ll have to do it over as small a fire as you can manage.’
The men were unloading the wagon, working fast as they dug out their gold pans and shovels. Noreen stood by the side of the team and wondered what was happening at the Fort. She hoped Joanna Lingley had been discovered and was not too badly hurt.
So busy were the men with their work and Noreen with her thoughts that not one of them paid the slightest attention to the shrill whistling of birds among the bushes.
* * *
Back at Fort Tucker, Joanna recovered from the blow on the head. It took her a few moments to settle the spinning in her head. She tried first to put a hand to her head and felt the bonds around her wrists. Then it struck her that something was in her mouth. She tried to shove it out with her tongue and failed, so she started to struggle. That was when she discovered her ankles as well as her wrists were secured.
For a moment Joanna struggled without success. A thought came to her and she rolled from her side on to her back. Lifting her legs she brought them down hard, hoping to make enough noise to let the corporal in the orderly room know of her predicament. All she did was bruise and hurt her heels for her shoes had been removed. Joanna did not try again.
In desperation Joanna started to roll across the floor. It hurt her but she reached the party door beyond which lay the orderly room. Wriggling around she lay with her feet against the door. She lifted her legs and kicked as hard as she dared, bumping the door. Three times she tried before she remembered the next room would be empty. On her arrival McTavish, the corporal of the orderly room, had mentioned that he’d much work to do at the Quartermaster’s branch and would be out for the rest of the day.
Joanna lowered her feet in frustration and lay for a moment flat on her back. She did not know how long it might be before she was rescued and so tried to get herself as comfortable as possible.
From the way things went Noreen Kallan had a lot of luck after her flight from the sutler’s building. There was the delay while Dusty dealt with Madlarn and Kallan recovered. Then the men did not come straight to the Fort but went around it as they talked of Noreen’s future and of things which would take Kallan’s thoughts from his wife’s disloyalty.
Her luck held in that she narrowly avoided being seen by the two men as they crossed the winding track leading to Shacktown on their way to look over an area Kallan wished to lay out as a sabre training course. So with one thing and another Noreen was crossing the range towards the Belle Pourche as Dusty and Kallan entered the Fort.
After dismissing Kallan to go home and see what he could arrange with his wife, Dusty headed for his quarters instead of the office. He went along to his room and found his striker cleaning boots, so he left the man to it. Hearing laughter from the room shared by Mark and the Kid he opened the door and entered.
Seated around the small table, playing poker for chips, were Mark, the Kid and Gilbey. The latter came to his feet smartly but Dusty waved him down and looked in disgust at the two Texans. He saw something like disapproval in their eyes as they returned his looks and wondered what he’d done to deserve it.
‘You’re sure a hard boss, Dusty,’ Mark drawled.
‘Allus has been as long as I’ve known him,’ grunted the Kid.
‘What’s all that about?’ asked Dusty.
‘You know what it’s all about,’ Mark stated. ‘You knowed well enough we fixed it with Joanna to go out and see if we could down a couple of turkey cocks we’ve seen on the range.’
‘Should’ve been gone by now,’ agreed the Kid. ‘Only she said she’d go down to the office and see if you’d got any work for her. I told her, “Gal,” I said, “you-all keep clear of that Dusty, ‘cause even if there no work to do he’ll find you some. He just can’t bear seeing folks not working.” And I was right.’
‘The next time you’re right about anything’ll be the first,’ Dusty grunted. ‘Anyhow, what the hell are you pair blaming me for? I’ve not been near the office since morning muster and there wasn’t a thing for Joanna to do even if she went in.’
‘She could be showing sense, sir,’ Gilbey remarked. ‘Keeping well clear of Texans and such fool Cr—’
The words trailed off unsaid as Gilbey remembered, not quite in time, that Dusty was also a Texan. Gilbey saw the tolerant grin which came to Dusty’s face.
‘Was I to put you on another week as officer of the day you’d reckon I was puffing rank to get my revenge, mister.’
‘Who me, sir? I learned better than say a thing like that when I was a green shavetail.’
‘You’ve been teaching to Jarrow and Cardon,’ grinned Dusty. ‘I can’t get more than a yes or a no from either of them half the time.’
By hard work and proving himself willing to learn and to make up for his previous slackness, Gilbey had come to the point where he could exchange polite banter with Dusty at such times. It gave the young lieutenant some pride when he did so, for he wanted Dusty to have a good opinion of him.
‘Do you reckon Joanna could’ve gone home and forgotten about the hunting?’ asked Dusty.
‘That’s about as likely as me voting Republican,’ drawled the Kid. ‘Which same’s not likely at all. You know her as well as we do, Dusty. Can you see her missing a chance to hunt down a couple of fat ole turkeys that’d look good in the oven!’
‘Come to think of it I can’t,’ admitted Dusty. ‘I’ll walk down to the office and see what’s she found so interesting to do. Do you feel like stretching your legs instead of wasting your life in gambling and corruption, Mr. Gilbey?’
Such a question by a senior officer could only be met with the affirmative whether the junior wished to stretch his legs or not. However, Gilbey was, like all the officers and sergeants of the Fort, always willing to accompany Dusty, for there was usually something the small Texan could give his knowledge and wisdom to and a man could learn plenty just by listening to him.
So Gilbey and Dusty walked from the officers’ quarters and headed for the office. Dusty did not mention anything that happened at the sutler’s building but told Gilbey of the plans for the sabre fighting course. They reached the rear door of the office and Dusty opened it.
The first thing which Dusty saw was the revolver thrust into the clasp of the pay chest padlock. Then his eyes went to the desk where Joanna’s bound feet waved in sight around the edge. The girl had heard the door open and started to attract attention to herself the only way she could.
Dusty crossed the room fast and dropped to his knees beside the girl, taking a clasp knife from his trousers pocket and cutting through the knot of the gag. Gilbey was by his side and bending to try and unfasten Joanna’s wrists.
‘Where’s McTavish, Mr. Gilbey?’ Dusty snapped.
‘Working on the accounts with the Quartermaster-sergeant. Are you all right, Joanna?’
For a moment the girl did not reply. Her jaws ached from the grip of the gag and as her legs and wrists were freed she felt the pins and needles pricking off restored circulation. Tears of pain trickled down her cheeks and it took her a lot of effort to get control of herself.
Helping Joanna to rise Dusty supported her to a chair by the desk and placed her in it. He threw another glance at the lock then looked up at Gilbey.
‘Get some water, the Sergeant-major and McTavish, please Mr. Gilbey.’
After Gilbey left the room Dusty went to the box and looked at the revolver. He recognized it straight away as the unloaded Army Colt he used as a paper-weight. Dusty examined the lock, making sure it had not been damaged by this crude attempt to open it. He removed the revolver and returned to the desk where Joanna sat holding her jaw, working it from side to side as if she’d been hit on it.’
‘Take it easy, gal,’ he said gently. ‘Are you all right?’
Joanna felt at the bump on her head, winced and then answered, ‘I will be in a few minutes.’
‘What happened?’
‘That I don’t know. I came in to check if you’d left any work. Walked through the door and that’s all I remember until I recovered and found my hands and feet tied and that gag in my mouth.’
Gilbey came back at that moment, the pitcher of water in his hands. He poured Joanna a drink and she took it eagerly.
‘Hogan and MacTavish are outside, sir,’ he said.
Taking the key to the pay chest from his pocket Dusty told Gilbey to check on its contents. The young lieutenant did as ordered, reporting that everything was all right. Dusty expected this for he did not think anybody could have forced the lock in such a manner. After locking the chest again Gilbey handed Dusty the key and left the room to return, followed by the orderly room corporal.
‘You saw Miss Lingley come into my office?’ asked Dusty. Looking distinctly uneasy MacTavish nodded. He did not know what might be wrong but was sure that something was. He glanced at Joanna’s dishevelled appearance and bit down the questions he would have liked to ask.
‘What happened then?’ Dusty went on.
‘I was all set to go to the quartermaster’s branch, sir. Miss Lingley’s been in your office, helping with the paperwork often enough so I left her to it. I thought she was all right. She said she was, right after she knocked something over and I called to her about it.’
‘I never knocked anything over,’ gasped Joanna. ‘Or spoke to you after I came into the office.’
‘But I heard you, ma’am!’
‘You’re sure it was Miss Lingley’s voice?’ asked Dusty.
MacTavish gulped. ‘No, sir. Not certain. I didn’t come into the office. But it was a woman’s voice and I didn’t think there was anybody but Miss Lingley in here so I left it at that.’
‘Wait outside!’ Dusty ordered and the corporal saluted, then left the room.
For a couple of minutes Dusty paced the room like a cougar in a cage. Both Joanna and Gilbey knew he was thinking and knew better than interrupt his train of thoughts.
At last Dusty halted, bent and took up the length of white cloth which had been used to secure the girl’s ankles. Her wrists and mouth had been bound by her own stockings but this was of different material.
‘Does this belong to you, Joanna?’ he asked.
She took the cloth, turning it over between her hands and shaking her head. ‘No. It’s not from my p—mine.’
Then Dusty guessed what the mysterious intruder must have been looking for. He headed for the desk and pulled open the drawer in which lay the copies of his patrol orders. He did not need to take them out to know the top one, the routes for the patrols at present in the field, was missing. Nor did he need to think too much about who took them and why.
A woman had been in the room, felled Joanna, tied her up and gagged her. A woman answered MacTavish when he called on hearing either the blow or Joanna falling to the floor. In all the Fort there was only one woman Dusty reckoned would have the need to take the papers.
‘Mr. Gilbey, sound assembly. Detail off a twenty man patrol to be ready to ride in fifteen minutes. Get Mark and the Kid here fast.’
‘What is it, Dusty?’ gasped the girl, seeing the way Dusty looked and acted, reading that something was badly wrong from it.
‘Trouble, Joanna. Go to your quarters.’
Hogan knocked and entered at that moment. ‘Sergeant Kallan wishing to speak with you, sir.’
‘Show him in and take Miss Lingley to her quarters.’ Although she wished to learn what was wrong Joanna did not argue, She rose to her feet and allowed Hogan to help her from the room. Kallan entered, throwing a startled look at the girl, then saluted Dusty.
‘It’s Noreen, sir,’ he said. ‘She’s not at home, or on the Fort.’
‘I know, Kallan. Sit down.’
Quickly Dusty told the man his suspicions and Kallan listened without a word but took the strip of white cloth and looked at it.
‘Yes, sir,’ he admitted. ‘It could be from Noreen’s petticoat. Why’d she do it?’
‘I don’t know for sure, Sergeant,’ Dusty answered. ‘I’m ;aking out a patrol to try and bring her, and whoever she’s using the orders to persuade to help her, back before it’s too late.’
‘Permission to ride with you.’
‘Permission granted.’
Dusty listened to the notes of assembly and waved Kallan into the chair. The sergeant looked haggard and pale under his tan. Dusty felt that Kallan loved his wife and deserved a better deal than he’d been given.
A knock sounded at the rear door, Mark and the Kid stood outside so Dusty stepped out to give them orders in a low voice. Neither asked any questions, for they knew him too well to waste time when that hard, bitter note came to his voice. Without an unnecessary word they turned and headed for the officers’ stables to collect their horses. On the square beyond them they saw men form up and Gilbey standing impatiently waiting to carry out Dusty’s orders.
‘I don’t hold you responsible in any way, Kallan,’ Dusty said as he closed the door of the office. ‘Go get ready. Tell Mr. Gilbey I said you were to ride with the patrol and that I’ll command it.’
‘Yo!’
Even in his grief and anxiety Kallan remembered his drill and training. He saluted smartly and left the room. Dusty shook his head sadly and then made for the office door.
Gilbey came up at the double after selecting his men and dismissing the rest.
‘Detail sent to prepare to leave, sir. Permission to ride with you?’
‘Not granted, mister. You’ll take command of the Fort.’
‘Do you know what this is all about, sir?’
‘Yes.’
With that one word Dusty walked by Gilbey and headed for the officers’ stables. Already Mark and the Kid were leading their saddled horses out ready to follow his orders.
Dusty knew how little time there was. Noreen and her helpers would be headed for a part of the Belle-Pourche his patrols did not cover. In that area there had been considerable Sioux movement over the past week, which was one reason Dusty kept his men from it. The Sioux would deter any rushers and he did not wish to chance an incident by having soldiers in the same area as the Sioux. He knew Noreen had taken the orders to bribe a passage east. That meant she’d gone with the men who she’d presented with the plans and was heading right into the Sioux on the wrong side of the river.