Danny Blackgoat by Tim Tingle

Author:Tim Tingle [Tingle, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book Publishing Co.
Published: 2017-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Soldiers in the Shadows

Jane arrived at her family’s campsite to hear her father snoring and rolling out of his blanket.

“What was that noise!” he shouted. Jane hurried to his side, pretending he had awakened her.

“Nothing, Dad. You must have been having a bad dream. I didn’t hear any noise.”

“Oh, I am sorry, Jane. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Soon Jane and her family were asleep again, but Danny Blackgoat never made it to his family.

Throughout the day, the corporal had asked questions of anyone who knew Jim Davis or Rick. The gravediggers told him of the coffin Davis had removed that day.

“Jim Davis claimed that empty coffin was filled with mud, and that’s what made it so heavy,” said the sergeant. “But he was very careful not to let us look in the coffin.”

“And he sure did close the door to his shop in a hurry,” added the private.

“I spoke to some soldiers who just arrived from Fort Davis, where Jim Davis was a prisoner before he came here,” the corporal said. “They claimed they saw this Indian boy and shot at him before he got away. They said he might be coming here, where his family lives.”

Like a mosquito buzzing around in the dark, the corporal could not get Danny Blackgoat out of his mind. “He stole a horse from the United States Army, and he must pay for it,” he said to himself over and over again. When the corporal had entered the carpentry shop and surprised Davis, he saw no one else in the shop.

But there were two coffee cups! he thought.

As the sun sank beneath the low-lying hills to the west, the corporal had his usual evening meal with the men serving under him. He then returned to his barracks for a quiet evening of poker playing with the other officers.

After losing two quick hands of poker, he slapped his cards to the table and rose to go. “I have some business to attend to that will not wait,” he told his fellow officers.

“Anything we can help you with?” asked a lieutenant.

“No, it’s about a young Indian runaway. I think I’ll take care of this myself.”

He left the barracks with his long-range rifle over his shoulder, loaded and ready to fire, and his pistol at his side. If I were that boy, I’d want to be with my family, he thought to himself. But he can’t go there till after dark. I think the gravediggers were right. He is with Jim Davis, hiding somewhere in his carpentry shop. But he won’t stay there, not tonight. He knows we’ll be looking for him in the morning. He’s not safe anywhere in the fort. That Navajo boy will try to escape from the fort tonight!

On his way to the carpentry shop, the corporal stopped by the enlisted men’s barracks, where they had their own poker game going.

“You two,” he said to the best marksmen. “Sergeant Tolar and Sergeant Chester, come with me. Bring your rifles, pistols, and plenty of ammunition.

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