Free Novel 1972 - Callaghen (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour

“Yes, sir, I understand. Shall I escort this man to his quarters, sir?”
    “If you please.”
    When they were gone, Sykes took a step nearer to Callaghen. “Sergeant, come with me. I want to know what happened out here.”
    In Sykes’s quarters, Callaghen told him, without holding anything back, just what had happened. He did not like Sykes, but this was army business, army responsibility, and something was happening here that might lead to serious trouble.
    “And did Allison say anything before he died?”
    “No, sir. Only that he regretted not following the Delaware’s advice, sir.”
    “What do you know about this man Wylie?”
    Callaghen hesitated. “Not very much, really. I believe he’s a gambler, sir, but I could not say for sure. He is reported to travel in some bad company, and he has killed three or four men in gun duels. I believe he rather fancies himself in that capacity, sir.”
    “I see.” Sykes looked at him sharply. “And you say he fell down?”
    “The light was bad, sir. He made as if to use a gun, and then he seemed to run into something in the dark. The next thing I knew he was lying in the dust.”
    “That will be all, Callaghen.”
    Callaghen turned to go, then said, “Sir?”
    “Yes?”
    “I believe from the description we were given that Kurt Wylie is the man who gave Allison his orders. The men who arrived in company with Allison might be able to say for sure.”
    Mercer was on duty as a horse guard, and Callaghen went out to him, was challenged, and replied. Standing close to Mercer he asked, “Were you there when the stage arrived? And did you see the man who got off the stage? The dark man with the broken nose?”
    “Yes, sir. That’s the one, Sergeant, who handed those orders to Lieutenant Allison.”
    “Thanks, Mercer.”
     

J UST BEFORE DAYBREAK Callaghen felt somebody touch his shoulder. “Sergeant? I’m Corporal Williams. Lieutenant Sprague is taking out a patrol, and he would like you to accompany him.”
    He dressed in the dark, gathered his equipment, and hurried to the corrals, where his horse was already saddled. He checked his gear. All around him in the dark, men were mounting their horses. Suddenly he felt someone close beside him. It was the Delaware, Jason Stick-Walker. “We go again,” he said. “They say we show them the country, you and me.”
    The patrol numbered twelve soldiers, Lieutenant Sprague, Corporal Williams, the Delaware, and himself. Sprague was an officer who had come in with Sykes’s detachment, a man of forty or so, bearded, tough, and capable. They lined out in a column of twos, Callaghen riding beside Sprague.
    “We are to scout the Vegas Springs trail for ten miles,” Sprague said, “then swing southeast and join the Government Road from Fort Mohave.”
    Day came, and it was hot and still. Shadows were at the mouths of the canyons, retreating from the sun as it rose higher.
    They saw no tracks. There seemed to have been no movement along the trail in days; but the Mohaves did not use the trail at any time, and other Indians used it seldom. They scouted right and left, looking for sign, but found nothing. Callaghen had not expected they would.
    “We are not looking for Indians,” Sprague said. “I want to start breaking my men in for desert work, and to get the lay of the land myself.”
    Near the trail they came on the ruins of several burned-out wagons. “That happened several years ago,” said Callaghen, “when Indians ambushed a caravan of freight wagons. The freighters were game, and made a fight of it. The Indians ran off a few horses, and disappeared into the hills.”
    “Any casualties?”
    “Three wounded men; half a dozen wagons were looted and burned, about twenty head of stock were lost. No one knows whether the Mohaves lost anybody or not.”
    “Will the Indians attack us?”
    “No. Not unless there were five or six hundred of them, and this desert will hardly support so many. They’ll watch us, and when