He yelled back, “Sounds like my company is under attack,” as he disappeared out of her sight.
CHAPTER V
Upon returning to the old inn, Sergeant Yates found the dragoons had had a sharp skirmish with a detachment of Confederates who were skirting south of their encampment along the Ramsey and Clifty Roads that circled east of the Tyree Inn.
There was much excitement and confusion in camp. One dragoon had been killed and several wounded. Immediately he was questioned and accused sharply by Captain Bloome as to why he had not reported the proximity of the train.
“You were down that way, Sergeant, and from that cabin you can see over a half mile of the Ramsey and Clifty Roads. We could have taken it had we known of its approach in time. You were sent here to do your duty, not to run off after the first piece of ass that chanced to come your way. Go to your quarters and consider yourself under arrest. You are to report to headquarters in the morning. I think there will be a court-martial for you, Sergeant.”
Andy saluted, made an about-face, and proceeded to his quarters. He lay on his cot, disturbed and worried. He was a good soldier. Conscientious as he was, he had deep regrets. He tried to excuse his feelings with thoughts that he wasn’t on duty, but immediately it flashed through his mind that he was where he should have spotted and reported the enemy’s movement. Like a bolt from nowhere, he realized he could be court-martialed, disgraced, and maybe shot.
The dragoons had given a good account of themselves. In the engagement they captured one supply wagon and took three prisoners. The wagon was found to contain medical supplies and, among other items, a quantity of whiskey and brandy, which were welcomed in the dragoon camp.
Sergeant Castino promptly hid the spirits in the cellar of the old inn and placed it under lock and key. It wasn’t long before every dragoon in camp knew it was in there. Sometime after taps had sounded, the lock on the cellar door was torn off and the spirits stolen.
It was taken to a room adjoining where Andy lay tossing sleeplessly on his old army cot. He heard voices filtering through the thin wall. A door closed in the next room. He rose up on one elbow to listen. Now someone was speaking just outside his window. He crept silently to the window. Cautiously he peered out. There in the darkness of night, he saw three shadowy forms, and one was Millbaugh. His huge hulk and slouching shoulders were unmistakable. Even with the night only starlit, he could see that they were drunk. Instantly, he thought of the captured whiskey, and as if forewarned about Molly, he listened. Millbaugh’s thick tongue began to speak.
“Come on, you damn fools! I know where she lives. Foller’d ’er clear to ’er home t’other day. I’d ’nowed I’d be goin’ to on ’er some day. I-I’m purty wise guy, here, LaCrosse, you betcha your good-for-nothing ass I am. Ask Toney. Yer-yer captured the whiskey, di-di-didn’t yer? Toney, yer-yer a good boy—a hell of a brave soldier.”
Then silence as Andy rose up and peeped out the window again. There the three stood with hands on each other’shoulders, heads together and weaving back and forth.
A soft voice said, “How far ’tis over there?”
Millbaugh let loose of their shoulders, slung his arm to indicate the direction, and fell face forward to the ground. The other two lifted him.
“Millbaugh, you’re too damn drunk to go tonight,” demanded LaCrosse. “Let’s wait till another night.”
“Drunk? Hell no, I ain’t drunk, yer-yer-yer showin’ yer yellow-bellied cowardice,” blurted Millbaugh, grabbing Toney by his arm with brute force. “An-and we’re not gonna wait. Say we’re not going to wait. Say it! You damn yellow-livered coward.”
“Oh-o-o-no-oo, I’m ready,” cried Toney in a rage of pain.
“Shut up, you drunken fools! Sit down and listen,” demanded LaCrosse.
“Listen to w-w-what,” stammered Millbaugh. “The moon. There’s no damn moon. Come on. I got the papers.”
LaCrosse, placing a hand on each of Millbaugh’s shoulders, shoved him downward hard on the seat of his pants and immediately sat down beside him, looking him in the eye. He started, “Listen, you drunken bully. We’re not going anywhere until we know for damn sure that she’s living there alone.”
“Nobody ’er livin’ with ’er but the two niggers, and they not livin’ ne’r. I to-told yer foller’d her t’other day—know lay of the land a-and the nig-niggers live w-way out back. I was there an’ d-didn’t I find out all about it?” answered Millbaugh, in a softer voice.
“You’re sure, Lieutenant?” LaCrosse was slapping Millbaugh on the back. “Come on. Let’s go,” he said as he was starting to stand up.
Millbaugh pulled him back down, saying, “Wait a minute—j-just one damn minute! Ever wh-whose woman is she going to be? Which one goin’ get ’er first?”
There was silence. They set there staring at each other, waiting for someone to speak.
“Hell! Let’s toss for ’er!” blurted Toney.
“All right with me,” answered LaCrosse, looking at Millbaugh.
“Fair ’nough,” proclaimed Millbaugh, reaching into his pocket for a coin.
“First odd man out,” suggested Toney, flipping his coin.
“Ha-ha, Toney. You’re last,” Millbaugh said, in a gentler voice. “Okay, LaCrosse, you match me.” A flip of the coins and then each man looked at each other. Then the three were off to carry out their evil plan.
Andy, with only his forehead and eyes above the windowsill, sat there stunned, not believing what he had heard or saw. The thought of Molly and what was to happen jolted him to his senses. He immediately dressed in his uniform, snapped his pistol and cartridge belt around his waist, and slipped quietly out of the building, skirting the encampment to elude any pickets on duty. He was afraid he would lose his way if he followed the others through the woods. He lost fifteen to twenty minutes eluding guards to reach the lane behind the buildings, and then he was off at top speed on the road to Molly’s home. He was moving at such speed that a horseman coming toward him, evidently on patrol, was within speaking distance before Andy saw him. He quickly and quietly lay down beside the road, close to some brush. As he went by, Andy could see it was a soldier but could not distinguish if the uniform was blue or gray.
After hoofbeats faded from his hearing, Andy hurried down the road at such speed that he was winded when he saw a light through the pines. He knew they were there ahead of him. Then a scream of a woman reached his ears. He charged forward faster with redoubled efforts. It seemed an eternity from the scream until he reached the white picket gate. A few strides and he bounded up the steps and onto the porch like a mountain lion ready to pounce on its prey. The door was ajar. He paused, gasping for air, and softly stepped into the hallway, intending to enter the lighted room.
A shot rang out, and one of the drunken soldiers reeled and fell through the doorway, prostrate at his feet. Yates, peering into the room, saw it was vacant. He leaped over the body and into the vacant room. Sounds of a struggle were coming from the adjoining room. Cautiously he moved toward the door to the adjoining room. He now could hear gasping and sobbing sounds. Exploding with anger and hatred from within, Andy rushed into the dimly lit room where he saw the girl struggling with the other two dragoons.
“Millbaugh! Millbaugh! You son of a bitch, let her go!” shrieked Andy.
The sadistic, drunken fool heeded not. The hand he had over Molly’s mouth swiftly moved downward, ripping open the front of her nightgown, exposing her lily-white breasts.
Madly Andy rushed to Millbaugh, seizing him by the collar, thrusting him backward at the same time striking him full in the face with a hard right fist knocking him to the floor. Quickly he turned toward the other dragoon, whom he recognized as Sergeant Toney Castino. Toney released his hold on the exhausted Molly, who fell backward onto the bed, and snatched his pistol from its holster. Andy drew his, and the two weapons fired at the same time. Toney fell fatally wounded down, onto the bed across the exhausted Molly. Yates felt a hot sting in his left breast and hot blood oozing out and trickling down his side. His vision grew dim; for an instant he sat there dazed and half-conscious.