Ranson's Folly (Fiscle Part 3) by Richard Harding Davis (best black authors .TXT) 📖

And Pay You A Visit. Say--

Canada. No,  Not Canada. I'd Rather Visit You In Jail Than In A

Montreal Hotel. Say Tangier,  Or Buenos Ayres,  Or Paris. Yes,  Paris Is

Safe Enough--And So Amusing."

 

Cahill Seated Himself Heavily. "I Trapped You Into This Fix,  Mr.

Ranson," He Said,  "You Know I Did,  And Now I Mean To Get You Out Of

It. I Ain't Going To Leave The Man My Mame Wants To Marry With A

Cloud On Him. I Ain't Going To Let Her Husband Be Jailed."

 

Ranson Had Run To His Desk And From A Drawer Drew Forth A Roll Of

Bills. He Advanced With Them In His Hand.

 

"Yes,  Paris Is Certainly The Place," He Said. "Here's Three Hundred

Dollars. I'll Cable You The Rest. You've Never Been To Paris,  Have

You? It's Full Of Beautiful Sights--Henry's American Bar,  For

Instance,  And The Courtyard Of The Grand Hotel,  And Maxim's. All Good

Americans Go To Paris When They Die And All The Bad Ones While They

Are Alive. You'll Find Lots Of Both Kinds,  And You'll Sit All Day On

The Sidewalk And Drink Bock And Listen To Hungarian Bands. And Mary

And I Will Join You There And Take You Driving In The Bois. Now,  You

Start At Once. I'll Tell Her You've Gone To New York To Talk It Over

With Father,  And Buy The Ring. Then I'll Say You've Gone On To Paris

To Rent Us Apartments For The Honeymoon. I'll Explain It Somehow.

That's Better Than Going To Jail,  Isn't It,  And Making Us Bow Our

Heads In Grief?"

 

Cahill,  In His Turn,  Approached The Desk And,  Seating Himself Before

It,  Began Writing Rapidly.

 

"What Is It?" Asked Ranson.

 

"A Confession," Said Cahill,  His Pen Scratching.

 

"I Won't Take It," Ranson Said,  "And I Won't Use It."

 

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"I Ain't Going To Give It To You," Said Cahill,  Over His Shoulder. "I

Know Better Than That. But I Don't Go To Paris Unless I Leave A

Confession Behind Me. Call In The Guard," He Commanded; "I Want Two

Witnesses."

 

"I'll See You Hanged First," Said Ranson.

 

Cahill Crossed The Room To The Door And,  Throwing It Open,  Called,

"Corporal Of The Guard!"

 

As He Spoke,  Captain Carr And Mrs. Bolland,  Accompanied By Miss Post

And Her Aunt,  Were Crossing The Parade-Ground. For A Moment The Post-

Trader Surveyed Them Doubtfully,  And Then,  Stepping Out Upon The

Veranda,  Beckoned To Them.

 

"Here's A Paper I've Signed,  Captain," He Said; "I Wish You'd Witness

My Signature. It's My Testimony For The Court-Martial."

 

"Then Someone Else Had Better Sign It," Said Carr. "Might Look

Prejudiced If I Did." He Turned To The Ladies. "These Ladies Are

Coming In To See Ranson Now. They'll Witness It."

 

Miss Cahill,  From The Other End Of The Veranda,  And The Visitors

Entered The Room Together.

 

"Mrs. Truesdale!" Cried Ranson. "You Are Pouring Coals Of Fire Upon

My Head. And Miss Post! Indeed,  This Is Too Much Honor. After The Way

I Threatened And Tried To Frighten You Last Night I Expected You To

Hang Me,  At Least,  Instead Of Which You Have,  I Trust,  Come To Tea."

 

"Nothing Of The Sort," Said Mrs. Bolland,  Sternly. "These Ladies

Insisted On My Bringing Them Here To Say How Sorry They Are That They

Talked So Much And Got You Into This Trouble. Understand,  Mr.

Ranson," The Colonel's Wife Added,  With Dignity,  "That I Am Not Here

Officially As Mrs. Bolland,  But As A Friend Of These Ladies."

 

"You Are Welcome In Whatever Form You Take,  Mrs. Bolland," Cried

Ranson,  "And,  Believe Me,  I Am In No Trouble--No Trouble,  I Assure

You. In Fact,  I Am Quite The Most Contented Man In The World. Mrs.

Bolland,  In Spite Of The Cloud,  The Temporary Cloud Which Rests Upon

My Fair Name,  I Take Great Pride In Announcing To You That This Young

Lady Has Done Me The Honor To Consent To Become My Wife. Her Father,

A Very Old And Dear Friend,  Has Given His Consent. And I Take This

Occasion To Tell You Of My Good Fortune,  Both In Your Official

Capacity And As My Friend."

 

There Was A Chorus Of Exclamations And Congratulations In Which Mrs.

Bolland Showed Herself To Be A True Wife And A Social Diplomatist. In

The Post-Trader's Daughter She Instantly Recognized The Heiress To

The Ranson Millions,  And The Daughter Of A Senator Who Also Was The

Chairman Of The Senate Committee On Brevets And Promotions. She Fell

Upon Miss Cahill's Shoulder And Kissed Her On Both Cheeks. Turning

Eagerly Upon Mrs. Truesdale,  She Said,  "Alice,  You Can Understand How

I Feel When I Tell You That This Child Has Always Been To Me Like One

Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 44

Of My Own."

 

Carr Took Ranson's Hand And Wrung It. Sergeant Clancey Grew Purple

With Pleasure And Stole Back To The Veranda,  Where He Whispered

Joyfully To A Sentry. In Another Moment A Passing Private Was Seen

Racing Delightedly Toward The Baseball Field.

 

At The Same Moment Lieutenants Crosby And Curtis And The Regimental

Adjutant Crossed The Parade Ground From The Colonel's Quarters And

Ran Up The Steps Of Ranson's Hut. The Expressions Of Good-Will,  Of

Smiling Embarrassment And General Satisfaction Which Lieutenant

Crosby Observed On The Countenances Of Those Present Seemed To Give

Him A Momentary Check.

 

"Oh," He Exclaimed,  Disappointedly,  "Someone Has Told You!"

 

Ranson Laughed And Took The Hand Which Crosby Held Doubtfully Toward

Him. "No One Has Told Me," He Said. "I've Been Telling Them."

 

"Then You Haven't Heard?" Crosby Cried,  Delightedly. "That's Good. I

Begged To Be The First To Let You Know,  Because I Felt So Badly At

Having Doubted You. You Must Let Me Congratulate You. You Are Free."

 

"Free?" Smiled Ranson.

 

"Yes,  Relieved From Arrest," Crosby Cried,  Joyfully. He Turned And

Took Ranson's Sword From The Hands Of The Adjutant. "And The

Colonel's Let Your Troop Have The Band To Give You A Serenade."

 

But Ranson's Face Showed No Sign Of Satisfaction.

 

"Wait!" He Cried. "Why Am I Relieved From Arrest?"

 

"Why? Because The Other Fellow Has Confessed."

 

Ranson Placed Himself Suddenly In Front Of Mary Cahill As Though To

Shield Her. His Eyes Stole Stealthily Towards Cahill's Confession.

Still Unread And Still Unsigned,  It Lay Unopened Upon The Table.

Cahill Was Gazing Upon Ranson In Blank Bewilderment.

 

Captain Carr Gasped A Sigh Of Relief That Was Far From Complimentary

To His Client.

 

"Who Confessed?" He Cried.

 

"'Pop' Henderson," Said Crosby.

 

"'Pop' Henderson!" Shouted Cahill. Unmindful Of His Wound,  He Struck

The Table Savagely With His Fist. For The First Time In The Knowledge

Of The Post He Exhibited Emotion. "'Pop' Henderson,  By The Eternal!"

He Cried. "And I Never Guessed It!"

 

"Yes," Said Crosby,  Eagerly. "Abe Fisher Was In It. Henderson

Persuaded The Paymaster To Make The Trip Alone With Him. Then He

Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 45

Dressed Up Fisher To Represent The Red Rider And Sent Him On Ahead To

Hold Him Up. They Were To Share The Money Afterward. But Fisher Fired

On 'Pop' To Kill,  So As To Have It All,  And 'Pop's' Trying To Get

Even. And What With Wanting To Hurt Fisher,  And Thinking He Is Going

To Die,  And Not Wishing To See You Hanged,  He's Told The Truth. We

Wired Kiowa Early This Morning And Arrested Fisher. They've Found The

Money,  And He Has Confessed,  Too."

 

"But The Poncho And The Red Kerchief?" Protested Carr. "And He Had No

Stirrups!"

 

"Oh,  Fisher Had The Make-Up All Right," Laughed Crosby; "Henderson

Says Fisher's The 'Only,  Original' Red Rider. And As For The

Stirrups,  I'm Afraid That's My Fault. I Asked The Colonel If The Man

Wasn't Riding Without Stirrups,  And I Guess The Wish Was Father To

The Fact. He Only Imagined He Hadn't Seen Any Stirrups. The Colonel

Was Rattled. So,  Old Man," He Added,  Turning To Ranson,  "Here's Your

Sword Again,  And God Bless You."

 

Already The Post Had Learned The News From The Band And The Verandas

Of The Enlisted Men Overflowed With Delighted Troopers. From The

Stables And The Ball Field Came The Sound Of Hurrying Feet,  And A

Tumult Of Cheers And Cowboy Yells. Across The Parade-Ground The

Regimental Band Bore Down Upon Ranson's Hut,  Proclaiming To The

Garrison That There Would Be A Hot Time In The Old Town That Night.

But Sergeant Clancey Ran To Meet The Bandmaster,  And Shouted In His

Ear. "He's Going To Marry Mary Cahill," He Cried. "I Heard Him Tell

The Colonel's Wife. Play 'Just Because She Made Them Goo-Goo Eyes.'"

 

"Like Hell!" Cried The Bandmaster,  Indignantly,  Breaking In On The

Tune With His Baton. "I Know My Business! Now,  Then,  Men," He

Commanded,  "'I'll Leave My Happy Home For You.'"

 

As Mrs. Bolland Dragged Miss Cahill Into View Of The Assembled

Troopers Ranson Pulled His Father-In-Law Into A Far Corner Of The

Room. He Shook The Written Confession In His Face.

 

"Now,  Will You Kindly Tell Me What That Means?" He Demanded. "What

Sort Of A Gallery Play Were You Trying To Make?"

 

Cahill Shifted His Sombrero Guiltily. "I Was Trying To Get You Out Of

The Hole," He Stammered. "I--I Thought You Done It."

 

"You Thought I Done It!"

 

"Sure. I Never Thought Nothing Else."

 

"Then Why Do You Say Here That You Did It?"

 

"Oh,  Because," Stammered Cahill,  Miserably,  "'Cause Of Mary,  'Cause

She Wanted To Marry You--'Cause You Were Going To Marry Her."

 

"Well--But--What Good Were You Going To Do By Shooting Yourself?"

 

Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 46

"Oh,  Then?" Cahill Jerked Back His Head As Though Casting Out An

Unpleasant Memory. "I Thought You'd Caught Me,  You,  Too--Between

You!"

 

"Caught You! Then You Did--?"

 

"No,  But I Tried To. I Heard Your Plan,  And I Did Follow You In The

Poncho And Kerchief,  Meaning To Hold Up