An Apache Princess

This set adjoined the major's big central house,

its south windows looking into the major's north gallery. "It would be

so neighborly and nice," said Mrs. Plume. Instead, however, Mr. Blakely

stood upon his prerogative as a senior subaltern and "ranked out" Mr.

and Mrs. Bridger and baby, and these otherwise gentle folk, evicted and

aggrieved, knowing naught of Blakely from previous association, and

seeing no reason why he should wish to be at the far end of the row

instead of the middle, with his captain, where he properly belonged,

deemed themselves the objects of wanton and capricious treatment at his

hands, and resented it according to their opportunities. Bridger, being

a soldier and subordinate, had to take it out in soliloquy and

swear-words, but his impetuous little helpmate--being a woman, a wife

and mother, set both wits and tongue to work, and heaven help the man

when woman has both to turn upon him! In refusing the room and windows

that looked full-face into those of Mrs. Plume, Blakely had nettled her.

In selecting the quarters occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Bridger he had

slightly inconvenienced and sorely vexed the latter. With no

incumbrances whatever, with fine professional record, with personal

traits and reputation to make him enviable, with comparative wealth and,

as a rule, superlative health, Blakely started on his career as a

subaltern at Sandy with three serious handicaps,--the disfavor of his

captain, who knew and loved him little,--the prejudice of Mrs. Bridger,

who knew and loved him not at all,--and the jealous pique of Mrs. Plume,

who had known and loved him, possibly, too well.

There was little duty doing at Sandy at the time whereof we write. Men

rose at dawn and sent the horses forth to graze all day in the

foothills under heavy guard. It was too hot for drills, with the

mercury sizzling at the hundred mark. Indian prisoners did the

"police" work about the post; and men and women dozed and wilted in

the shade until the late afternoon recall. Then Sandy woke up and

energetically stabled, drilled, paraded under arms at sunset, mounted

guard immediately thereafter, dined in spotless white; then rode,

drove, flirted, danced, gossiped, made mirth, melody, or monotonous

plaint till nearly midnight; then slept until the dawn of another day.

Indians there were in the wilds of the Mogollon to the southeast, and,

sometimes at rare intervals straying from the big reservation up the

valley, they scared the scattered settlers of the Agua Fria and the

Hassayampa; but Sandy rarely knew of them except as prisoners. Not a

hostile shot had been fired in the surrounding mountains for at least

six months, so nobody felt the least alarm, and many only languid

interest, when the white-coated officers reported the result of sunset

roll-call and inspection, and, saluting Major Plume, the captain of

"C" Troop announced in tones he meant should be heard along the row:

"Mr. Blakely, sir, is absent!"