You're in Command Now, Mr Fog by J. T. Edson

Author:J. T. Edson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: C429, Western, Extratorrents, Kat
ISBN: 9780552092272
Publisher: Corgi
Published: 1973-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

LEISURELY tossing pieces of wood into the cresset before the guard tent, the Negro sentry became aware of movement on the edge of the woodland some distance from the camp. Reaching for his Sharps breech-loading rifle, he looked to where a wagon emerged along the trail that led to Herber Springs. At first, he saw no cause for alarm. It was the usual type of four-horse vehicle used in considerable numbers by the Quartermaster Corps. However, he did not return to his work of feeding the fire. He enjoyed being in a position where he could order white people around; even if only to the extent of making one halt and submit to his questioning at a guard post.

Bringing his rifle into the ready position, the sentry prepared to challenge the driver. He was debating whether to make the approaching man halt the wagon some yards away, dismount and advance to be recognized, then he stared harder. Suddenly a feeling of superstitious fear bit at him. Although the four horses continued to walk towards the camp, the wagon’s box was empty.

There was no driver!

“Hey, serge!” the sentry yelled. “Come out here and take a look at this!”

“What’s up?” was the reply from the guard tent.

“You come and see!” the sentry insisted.

Followed by the other occupants of the tent, a burly Negro sergeant strode out. None of them were armed and their eruption lacked any suggestion of military purpose or precision.

“What do you wan – ?” the sergeant began, then he too saw the wagon. “Now where the hell’s that come from?”

“I dunno,” admitted the sentry. “It just come along the trail with nobody driving it.”

“We’d best fetch it in,” the sergeant decided, while a low muttering rose from the man behind him. None of them moved, however, and his voice took on a harsher note. “You heard me! Go fetch it in.”

“Looks like it’s coming, fetched or not,” the sentry pointed out. “Ain’t no call to go and meet it.”

“I ain’t in this man’s Army to go fetching no wagon,” stated another of the guard, as the sergeant’s eyes swung in his direction. “Especially when they comes from nowhere, without nobody driving them.”

Seeing the lights of the camp, the experienced horses sensed that their hard day’s work might soon be ended. So they kept walking towards the soldiers.

“Maybe we should get the officer-of-the-day,” suggested a third enlisted man, sensing that he might be called up to go near the mysterious wagon. “Him being so well eddicated ’n’ all, he’ll know for sure what to do.”

“Where the hell is he?” demanded the sergeant, seeing that he might be able to pass the buck to his superior.

“He went down the valley,” supplied the sentry. “Allowed that, with all their officers likely in town for the meeting, he’d best go and make sure them Mick-landers’s doing their work properly. He reckons they’s all likely to be sleeping if he don’t watch ’em.”

None of the men thought it unusual that their officer-of-the-day should

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