Read Online Novel 1972 - Callaghen (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour - Free Book Online
Authors: Louis L’Amour
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stations far from the frontier, and anyone might have served at those posts during the time Allison claimed he was there.
Both Hill and Callaghen agreed that the man was a soldier, so he must have been one who had left the service not long before…or who had been a former Confederate. A rebel officer …that could be.
Certainly, whatever he had expected to do would have had to be done quickly, for such a trick could not go long undiscovered. Especially as everybody knew that Sykes was about to take over.
Suddenly, he felt a chill. He put the reports down carefully and fumbled in his pocket for a cigar and matches.
Why had the man come here just when Sykes was about to take command? Was it possible, even remotely possible, that Allison was somebody known to him? Somebody who thought Sykes would permit him to stay on?
Sykes sat back in the chair. Who might have such an idea? Who might presume to imagine…He must consider this with care, for though the army might be blundering it was often painstaking, and such inquiries could go on indefinitely.
He could think of no young officer—or an older one, for that matter—who would dare such a thing. He had made few friends during his time in service; and, anxious to get to the top, he had cultivated only those likely to be of use to him. There was no one he could think of who would have presumption enough to try to trade on his friendship. The explanation must lie elsewhere.
He stepped to the door of his hut. “Callaghen? May I speak to you?”
When Callaghen had stepped in and saluted, Sykes said, “This is somewhat of a surprise, Sergeant. I had not expected to see you again.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Callaghen, I shall have to conduct some sort of an investigation into this matter of Lieutenant Allison. I have read your report. Have you anything to add?”
“No, sir.”
“Did Allison make any inquiries about the country? I mean, did he ask about specific places? Did he give you any indication as to his reason for this masquerade?”
“None at all, sir. Nothing that I recall.”
Sykes toyed with his pen. “You may be sure this was no whim; the move was well planned. You have no clue at all?”
“There was one thing, sir. By inquiry among the men who arrived with him, I learned that he received his orders from some civilian in Los Angeles. They may have been given to this civilian to hold for him. At least, my informant reported that as Allison was about to board the stage that was bringing them here, he was handed an envelope that was the same one Allison turned over to Captain Hill.”
Then, Sykes thought, more than one man might have been involved. Despite the fact that he disliked Callaghen, the man was intelligent, and he might come up with some ideas, but further inquiries brought no additional information.
So after Callaghen had departed, Sykes got out his map of the Mohave area and studied the route Allison had pursued. It told him nothing beyond what he already knew—that Allison had gone farther north than he was expected to go, and evidently had not found what he was looking for.
As for Callaghen’s discharge, he glanced at it, and then put it in the file. That could wait. The man’s time was up, but Sykes had no desire to be rid of him…not yet.
C ALLAGHEN WATCHED THE men policing the area, then went to the horse corrals. Captain Marriott was inspecting the horses. He gestured toward the horses. “Not a bad lot. I hear you have had some stolen?”
“Yes, sir. The Mohaves eat them…or trade them. From what I hear, there’s always been trouble with horse-stealing. Peg-Leg Smith and Jim Beckworth used to ride with the Indians, steal horses in California, and drive them to Nevada or Arizona to sell or trade.”
Marriott was a slender, attractive man of forty-five or so who gave the appearance of being a competent soldier and a gentleman.
“I understand you’re due for discharge, Sergeant,” he said now. “We will be sorry to lose
Both Hill and Callaghen agreed that the man was a soldier, so he must have been one who had left the service not long before…or who had been a former Confederate. A rebel officer …that could be.
Certainly, whatever he had expected to do would have had to be done quickly, for such a trick could not go long undiscovered. Especially as everybody knew that Sykes was about to take over.
Suddenly, he felt a chill. He put the reports down carefully and fumbled in his pocket for a cigar and matches.
Why had the man come here just when Sykes was about to take command? Was it possible, even remotely possible, that Allison was somebody known to him? Somebody who thought Sykes would permit him to stay on?
Sykes sat back in the chair. Who might have such an idea? Who might presume to imagine…He must consider this with care, for though the army might be blundering it was often painstaking, and such inquiries could go on indefinitely.
He could think of no young officer—or an older one, for that matter—who would dare such a thing. He had made few friends during his time in service; and, anxious to get to the top, he had cultivated only those likely to be of use to him. There was no one he could think of who would have presumption enough to try to trade on his friendship. The explanation must lie elsewhere.
He stepped to the door of his hut. “Callaghen? May I speak to you?”
When Callaghen had stepped in and saluted, Sykes said, “This is somewhat of a surprise, Sergeant. I had not expected to see you again.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Callaghen, I shall have to conduct some sort of an investigation into this matter of Lieutenant Allison. I have read your report. Have you anything to add?”
“No, sir.”
“Did Allison make any inquiries about the country? I mean, did he ask about specific places? Did he give you any indication as to his reason for this masquerade?”
“None at all, sir. Nothing that I recall.”
Sykes toyed with his pen. “You may be sure this was no whim; the move was well planned. You have no clue at all?”
“There was one thing, sir. By inquiry among the men who arrived with him, I learned that he received his orders from some civilian in Los Angeles. They may have been given to this civilian to hold for him. At least, my informant reported that as Allison was about to board the stage that was bringing them here, he was handed an envelope that was the same one Allison turned over to Captain Hill.”
Then, Sykes thought, more than one man might have been involved. Despite the fact that he disliked Callaghen, the man was intelligent, and he might come up with some ideas, but further inquiries brought no additional information.
So after Callaghen had departed, Sykes got out his map of the Mohave area and studied the route Allison had pursued. It told him nothing beyond what he already knew—that Allison had gone farther north than he was expected to go, and evidently had not found what he was looking for.
As for Callaghen’s discharge, he glanced at it, and then put it in the file. That could wait. The man’s time was up, but Sykes had no desire to be rid of him…not yet.
C ALLAGHEN WATCHED THE men policing the area, then went to the horse corrals. Captain Marriott was inspecting the horses. He gestured toward the horses. “Not a bad lot. I hear you have had some stolen?”
“Yes, sir. The Mohaves eat them…or trade them. From what I hear, there’s always been trouble with horse-stealing. Peg-Leg Smith and Jim Beckworth used to ride with the Indians, steal horses in California, and drive them to Nevada or Arizona to sell or trade.”
Marriott was a slender, attractive man of forty-five or so who gave the appearance of being a competent soldier and a gentleman.
“I understand you’re due for discharge, Sergeant,” he said now. “We will be sorry to lose
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