He was closeted first with Cutler. Then Dr. Graham was sent for, and
the three walked over to the hospital, just as the musicians were
forming for tattoo. They were at Mullins's bedside, with the steward
and attendants outside, when taps went wailing out upon the night.
There were five minutes of talk with that still bewildered patient.
Then Byrne desired to see Mr. Blakely at once and alone. Cutler
surrendered his office to the department inspector, and thither the
lieutenant was summoned. Mrs. Sanders, with Mrs. Truman, was keeping
little Mrs. Bridger company at the moment, and Blakely bowed
courteously to the three in passing by.
"Even in that rough dress," said Mrs. Sanders reflectively, as her
eyes followed the tall, straight figure over the moonlit parade, "he
is a most distinguished looking man."
"Yes," said Mrs. Bridger, still unappeased. "If he were a Sioux, I
suppose they'd call him 'Man-In-Love-With-His-Legs.'" Blakely heard
the bubble of laughter that followed him on his way, and wished that
he, too, felt in mood as merry. The acting sergeant major, a clerk,
and young Cassidy, the soldier telegraph operator, seated at the
westward end of the rough board porch of the adjutant's office, arose
and saluted as he entered. Byrne had sent every possible hearer out of
the building.
Five minutes the conference lasted, no sound coming from within.
Cutler and Graham, with Captain Westervelt, sat waiting on the porch
of the doctor's quarters, Mrs. Graham being busy with her progeny
aloft. Others of the officers and families were also on the piazzas,
or strolling slowly up and down the pathway, but all eyes wandered
from time to time toward the dim light at the office. All was dark at
the barracks. All was hushed and still about the post. The sentry call
for half-past ten was still some minutes' distant, when one of the
three seated figures at the end of the office porch was seen to rise.
Then the other two started to their feet. The first hastened to the
door and began to knock. So breathless was the night that over on the
verandas the imperative thumping could be distinctly heard, and
everyone ceased talk and listened. Then, in answer to some query from
within, the voice of young Cassidy was uplifted.
"I beg pardon, sir, but that's the agency calling me, and it's hurry."
They saw the door open from within; saw the soldier admitted and the
door closed after him; saw the two men waiting standing and expectant,
no longer content to resume their chat. For three minutes of suspense
there came no further sound. Then the door was again thrown open, and
both Byrne and Blakely came hurrying out. In the memory of the
earliest inhabitant never had Sandy seen the colonel walk so fast.
Together they came striding straight toward Cutler's, and the captain
arose and went to meet them, foreboding in his soul. Graham and
Westervelt, restrained by discipline, held back. The women and younger
officers, hushed by anxiety, gazed at the swift-coming pair in dread
and fascination. There was a moment of muttered conference with the
commanding officer, some hurried words, then Blakely was seen to
spring away, to be recalled by Cutler, to start a second time, only to
be again recalled. Then Cutler, shouting, "Mr. Doty, I need you!"
hurried away toward the office, and Blakely, fairly running, sped
straight for the barracks of Wren's troop. Only Byrne was left to
answer the storm of question that burst upon him all at once, women
thronging about him from all along the line.