Chapter 9

Double Switch

The wind was blowing in gusts, whistling in an eerie way as it blew across the still compound. As it was before, all windows were dark, all of F Troop tucked away in their bunks sleeping peacefully.

From the NCO barracks, a uniformed shadow slunk its way across the compound. Sergeant O'Rourke pushed his hat down to keep it from blowing away and squinted through the inkiness. The last time he and Agarn had done this, there had been a moon overhead to give light to see by. But this night there was no moon as the thick black clouds blocked out nearly all light. Already the air was heavy with dampness. Up ahead, O'Rourke saw the observation tower and quickly and quietly came up. He glanced around once more before turning his attention to the platform above.

"Agarn," he whispered up the tower, but no reply came in response. Above he could see the figure remained unmoving. He frowned as he tried again, a bit louder. "Agarn!"

Still nothing. Then the soft sound of snoring came from above.

O'Rourke scowled as he realized their "alert and vigilant" lookout was asleep. He cupped a hand around his mouth and called up again in a yelling whisper. "Agarn!"

Above, the corporal jumped with a snort as he abruptly awoke. "WHO GOES THERE?!" he yelped

O'Rourke winced at the loud sound. "Ssshhhhh! You wanna wake the captain?" he scolded quietly. He cast an anxious glance towards the captain's quarters, but all remained dark there.

Agarn peered down to see his friend below. "Oh, it's you, Sarge. Good morning."

"Morning? It's night."

"The captain said it was morning."

O'Rourke motioned to him. "Never mind that. Get down here so we can get moving!"

Agarn quickly scurried down the later to the waiting sergeant. He came up beside him. "Sorry, Sarge. I didn't realize it was you at first."

"Who were you expecting? The ghost of Captain Kidd?"

Agarn's eyes went wide in terror. He clutched O'Rourke's arm. "You mean he's around here too?!"

O'Rourke rolled his eyes. "Some lookout." He slapped the corporal's hand away then gestured. "C'mon."

Agarn left his rifle leaning against the tower and quickly trotted after the sergeant. The two soon reached the barn without mishap and O'Rourke opened one of the doors. They slipped inside and he pulled it closed after them. As it shut, they were plunged into pitch darkness.

The sergeant heard Agarn's voice came from somewhere beside him. "Sarge, it's awfully," there was a gulp, "dark in here."

O'Rourke moved through darkness over to the wall beside the doors where he knew a lantern hung.

Agarn's voice continued in a low whisper. "I'll hold onto you, Sarge, so I know where you–" he cut off as he must have been reaching out into the dark. "Sarge?" A nervous pause, then a sigh of relief. "Oh, there you are. You should find a lamp so we can see what we're doing." Then the voice turned a bit perplexed. "Sarge, I didn't realize what a … big nose you have. And you really should shave some of those whiskers off and–" It suddenly turned uneasy. "Sarge? That is you, isn't it?"

There was a sudden loud ripping of material from the darkness.

"Sarge!" Agarn shreiked.

"Keep your voice down!" O'Rourke shushed from someplace else.

There was a scuffling towards the direction of his voice and suddenly two hands clutched onto his arm. "Sarge, don't leave me like that again! Something just tried to eat me!"

"Agarn, you're not going through this again."

"But I'm telling you, something grabbed my shirt and ripped it! Sarge, I think we have a monster in here!"

"Just wait a second and let me get some light."

O'Rourke felt around on the wall a minute before finding the lantern that hung there. He struck a match, lighting it. The soft yellow glow lit up the area around them and he could now see Agarn's pale face, eyes wide with fright. O'Rourke held the lantern high, and a few feet away they saw the long face over the top of the near stall, two curious black eyes watching them. The horse gave a questioning nicker as he munched on the piece of cloth dangling from his mouth.

O'Rourke pointed. "There's your monster." He could see the large chunk missing from the front of Agarn's shirt where the horse had taken a taste.

Agarn fidgeted. "Well, how was I to know. Before it bit at me I thought it was you."

O'Rourke looked reprovingly at the corporal. "Agarn, I may be a horse soldier, but I can assure you I don't take it that seriously."

"Well, in the dark it kinda felt like–"

"Never mind about that. We've got a job to do."

They started for the back of the barn, the corporal clinging to O'Rourke as though his life depended on it. The light cast eerie highlights and ghostly shadows that seemed to move in the obscured surroundings.

"Agarn, you can let go now."

"If it's all the same to you, Sarge; I'd rather hang on."

"What's the matter with you? Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark."

Agarn's voice quaked slightly. "Me? Afraid of the dark? Whatever gave you that idea?"

O'Rourke paused to pry the white knuckled fingers off his arm and shoved them away. "Well, that's a good reason for starters. I'll have bruises for a week!"

"I'm sorry, Sarge. It's just…" in the dim light he saw the corporal's head duck slightly. "Well, it's just the last time I was here I had a traumatizing experience." He shivered as he could almost feel the mouse wiggling in his shirt again.

"Oh brother," O'Rourke moaned with a shake of his head as he walked on, Agarn pressing against him. "You know, Agarn, sometimes you're more of a mouse than that mouse was."

"Don't worry, Sarge. I'm fine now."

That same second, a movement caught his attention. In the corner of his eye, Agarn saw a terrifying, hideous dark man following at least six feet higher than he. So frightened out of his wits, his scream only came out a husky squeak. Agarn jumped onto the sergeant's back and stuck there like a burr. O'Rourke grunted in surprise at the unexpected tackle and stumbled under the sudden extra weight.

"What in the world is it now, Agarn?!"

Hiding his face in O'Rourke's shoulder, Agarn muffled something into it, eyes squeezed shut.

"You saw what?"

"A giant! He's after us!"

"What?"

Agarn pointed without looking. "There! There!"

O'Rourke looked. Beside them he saw an eight foot silhouetted figure of himself stretched up the wall with an extra bump of corporal on his back. The light from the lantern made them sharply outlined. With an irritated moan he began prying the extra weight off. "Agarn, there's nothing there."

"But I saw him!"

O'Rourke succeeded in getting the corporal's feet touching the ground again. "What you saw was your shadow!"

Carefully, Agarn peeked beside him and his shadow peeked back. He relaxed with a breath. "Oh, you're right. Gee, I didn't realize how scary I was." He put his arms up and made a clawing motion; the image did the same.

"You wanted reasons? There's another." O'Rourke frowned disapprovingly. "You know, it seems every time you come in here, you always get spooked by something!"

Agarn scowled as he flung his arms. "You see! Why shouldn't I be traumatized?! This barn's worse than a haunted house!" He looked around fearfully at the creepy surroundings

O'Rourke growled in his throat. The sergeant had already walked a few feet before Agarn realized it. With a gasp he rushed to catch up and clutched onto his arm again. "Don't leave me, Sarge."

A bit further and O'Rourke pointed as something ahead came in sight of the lantern's pale light. "There's the wagon." They found everything undisturbed and all the crates still stacked the way they had put them that afternoon. O'Rourke stepped up and balanced himself on the wagon seat. "Now to get things back the way they're 'spose to be."

Agarn frowned. "Sarge, isn't it going to make a lot of racket if we hitch up the horses to switch the wagons around? Won't someone hear us?"

"We're not going to use the horses."

"You mean we're going to pull them ourselves?" Agarn shook his head doubtfully. "I don't know what kind of shape you're in, Sarge, but I couldn't budge one of those heavy wagons."

"We're not going to pull them either."

"Then how–" Agarn gave a grunt as a heavy box was shoved down into his arms.

"That's how," O'Rourke answered.

Agarn moaned and whined, "Not again, Sarge! We've done this twice already!"

"And we're doin' it again. Now start totin' that to the wagon outside."

With a crying whimper, Agarn did as ordered.

For the third time, the switching game took place once again. Together they carried their boxes out behind the barn, piling them next to the other wagon. When it was emptied, they did the whole thing over again, taking the Major Chase's boxes from that wagon and carrying them all inside and restacking them in that wagon. As they left the barn for the last time, closing the doors behind them, the first drops of the rain were falling.

Agarn frowned at the black sky. "Isn't bad enough we've had to reload all these crates and souvenirs – twice! – but now it's got to rain on us. I'll probably catch pneumonia."

O'Rourke put out a palm, feeling the drops hit his hand. "Ah, it's not that bad. We'll get done in plenty of time before the real rain comes."

"You sure?"

"If there's one thing I know; it's weather. Right now it's just a light sprinkle. We can take that. The heavy rain won't come 'til later."

No sooner did the words leave his mouth, when the light sprinkle turned into a downpour. The rain fell in heavy sheets, dousing the fort.

Agarn stared up at the sergeant, water rolling off his hat in streams. "You had to say it."

Uncomfortably, O'Rourke pulled his collar closer around his neck. "C'mon," he muttered as he brushed by the glaring corporal. They sloshed through the already growing puddles to the back of the barn.

Even though working as fast as they could, it only took a few minutes before both were soaked to the skin. It seemed to stimulate their tired muscles as they attacked the pile of crates with new determination. Agarn handed each up to O'Rourke who stacked them tightly in the wagon bed. Gradually, the pile diminished until Agarn finally handed up the last one. Even though tightly closed up, they spread a tarp over the souvenirs to keep the rest of the rain off. When the last corner was tied down, O'Rourke gave the stack a slap with his hand.

"There! Finally done," he huffed.

Agarn fell against the sergeant as he panted, "Sarge, if we have to do this again, next time let's just desert the Army and save ourselves the trouble."

O'Rourke huffed a breath as he wiped rain from his face. "You know something, buddy. I think I'm almost inclined to agree with you."

"You are?"

"Yeah, and it's an unnerving feeling I might add."

Agarn's boots dragged in the mud as they started back, rain still dumping in buckets. "Boy, I think I'm on the verge of collapsing … and getting pneumonia … and exhaustion … and drowning … and …" he ran out of breath. "Sarge, carry me will you?"

O'Rourke continued to walk on. "I already did that last night. And don't forget I'm tired too."

"Well, I don't think I can carry you, Sarge. You're a lot bigger than I am. Beside, I couldn't anyway in my strained condition."

"Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with you that your nice warm bunk and a good night's sleep won't cure."

"Maybe my exhaustion, but what about my pneumonia? I'll probably be sick for weeks." He frowned as he grouched, "Why did it have to rain tonight? Of all times for it to pick. I think the weather declared its own war on us too. Either that or it's collaborated with fate and luck."

"Yeah, it sure picked a bad time." O'Rourke squinted up at the sky, raindrops pelting his face. "It'll most likely keep up all night."

"You think so?"

"Just look at that sky. It'll be raining for hours."

As if in response, the downpour suddenly ceased, replaced by a light misting. Above, the clouds parted and a sliver of moonlight peered through the night. They stood there as a damp hollow silence enveloped the fort.

Slowly, Agarn turned to stare up at the discomfited sergeant. Agarn spread his arms as he whispered loudly, "Why couldn't you have said that earlier?!"

O'Rourke tried to shrug it off as he looked up at the sky. "Well … weather can change abruptly. And I did say most likely."

"I don't know about you, but I think your forecasting is a little off, Sarge."

The sergeant walked on without answering, trying to casually ring out his wet sleeves while Agarn followed behind, still glaring. They soon reached the observation tower and stepped underneath the shelter under the near parapets. O'Rourke pulled his watch from his pocket and held it close to see the face in the darkness.

"Three o'clock on the dot. Perfect. Vanderbilt should be here any minute to relieve you."

Just then, Agarn saw a stocky figure in a slicker coming toward them in a weaving line across the hazy compound.

He pointed. "Sarge! Here he comes!"

"Alright, change shifts and then we'll go." Quickly, O'Rourke stepped back in the darkest shadows and disappeared, flattening himself against the wall; though Agarn didn't think it would make any difference whether he did or not.

His suspicion was justified when Vanderbilt walked right up without slowing and ran into Agarn. With a growl, Agarn pushed him back.

"Vanderbilt, watch were you're going!"

The nearsighted privet peered long and hard at the corporal through little round glasses. "Oh," he finally said. "Hi, Agarn. Glad I found you. I'm here to relieve you of duty."

"You don't know how relieved I am to hear that. Now take the rifle and get up there."

"But, Agarn, you haven't given me the rifle yet," Vanderbilt said.

"Oh, uh…" Agarn scratched his ear as he looked around. "I … can't quite remember where I put it." He crouched a bit as he searched the ground. "Look around. It's gotta be somewhere around here."

For a moment, he searched the mud but found nothing. He wandered a bit further out near the fort wall, wondering if the rain had washed the rifle away. Just then, the shadow beneath the parapet whispered something.

Agarn frowned as he leaned toward it. "What?" he whispered.

Again the shadow whispered something.

He leaned a bit closer. "What?"

"I said it's against the tower!" the shadow barked, making the corporal jump.

"What'd you say, Agarn?" Vanderbilt asked.

"Uh, I said "I just remembered". It's against the tower." Agarn went over and found the rifle exactly where he'd left it. He picked it up and turned it upside-down, pouring a stream of water out of the barrel. He walked over to Vanderbilt who had just picked something up off the ground.

"I found it, Agarn! It was under the tower." In the privet's hands was a long thin piece of wood, a sliver that had been overlooked after the tower had collapsed the last time.

Agarn rolled his eyes and snatched it. "Vanderbilt, that's a piece of wood." He chucked it away then shoved the right one into his hands. "This is the rifle."

Vanderbilt felt it over. "Oh! Thanks, Agarn. I was wondering how the other one gave me a splinter."

Agarn rolled his eyes and spun the privet around by his shoulders, giving him a slight push toward the tower. "Just get up there."

Vanderbilt took only a few steps before colliding with one of the tower's supports. Agarn tossed up his arms with a groan and went to help. He led him to the ladder and the privet began to climb, but he fumbled as his legs got caught up in his slicker while trying to climb with one hand and hold the rifle in the other. The corporal stepped onto the first rung and reached up to give him a push when the privet lost his grip. Before he could move, Agarn gave a massive grunt as Vanderbilt came down on top and they slid down the ladder, and pummeled to the wet ground. Agarn felt his back sink into the mud as the weight pressed down.

"Vanderbilt! Get off!" he wheezed.

Vanderbilt rolled off the corporal right onto his feet, his landing pad having kept nearly all mud off him. Agarn gasped and floundered as he struggled to get up. He finally got to his feet and stood dripping while sputtering in exasperation.

"Vanderbilt, you knucklehead!" Agarn snapped, trying to shake the majority of sludge off his arms and hands. "What are you trying to do? Kill me?!" He looked down at himself. His already drenched and torn uniform was now covered in mud and dripping brown water, some having even seeped into the tops of his boots.

"Sorry about that, Agarn," Vanderbilt apologized. Then asked, "Would you like me to get you a towel?"

Agarn scowled as he wiped his hands over himself, even though it did nothing. "No, I don't want you to get me a towel. Just get up in the lookout before you kill somebody – like me!"

Vanderbilt saluted and began climbing again, this time with better results as he reached the top. That accomplished, Agarn glanced around before beckoning to the shadows. O'Rourke emerged and came up. His eyes ran over the corporal's mud-covered appearance.

He nearly chuckled. "Well, you can't say you haven't had a full night of it."

Agarn frowned. "At least we know what we can do if the fort's being attacked and we run outta bullets. We'll just throw Vanderbilt on top of 'em. It's a sure win. I think every bone in my chest is broken!"

"C'mon let's get back now."

Quickly hurrying back across the compound, they soon entered the NCO barracks. Both were drenched, tired, and sore, but their spirits flying high.

O'Rourke shut the door and spun around to Agarn with a triumphant smile. "We did it, pal!"

"I can't believe it!" Agarn exclaimed. "We actually got every one of 'em switched back! Even fooled Captain Parmenter! Looks like maybe luck's finally decided to be on our side after all, even if the weather isn't."

O'Rourke gave a hearty laugh. "I told ya' we could pull it off! We've got nothing to worry about now." He slapped the corporal's wet back and instantly regretted it. He looked at the grim that stuck to his hand.

"You might not want to do that, Sarge. I'm a little dirty."

"Yeah, I can see that. Well, get yourself cleaned up and then let's hit the sack." O'Rourke yawned long and deep, causing Agarn to do the same. The sergeant moved over to his bunk as he began peeling off his wet uniform. "I could sure use some sleep after tonight."

"You said it, Sarge," Agarn agreed heartily as he wiggled out of his shirt. He sat down on his footlocker and pulled of his boots. He observed the brown splotched socks a moment before looking up. "You know, I've got a feeling our luck's really changed this time, Sarge. That is, all of it except for one thing."

"Oh? What's that?"

Agarn held up the torn and muddy shirt. "My uniform's luck. This makes the third one that's been ruined. So far they've been torn, burned, and eaten. If this keeps up, I'm gunna run outta shirts. And who knows what'll happen to the next one!"

It was a few minutes after 4:00 AM when a dirty red face and bent feathers popped out through the large hole just inside one of the fort wall. It glanced around before wriggling the rest of the way out and the rest of the Indian appeared. He stood to his feet and stretched sore muscles. No one was in sight so he squatted down next to the hole.

"All clear, Chief!" he whispered loudly.

A second later, Wild Eagle's head appeared and the Indian helped the chief climb out. "Good work, Crazy Cat. Now get rest of braves up here."

Again, Crazy Cat called quietly down. "Digging detail, up and out!"

One by one, the train popped out of the hole that started just on the other side of the wall. Crazy Cat kept count until he came up with six and turned to Wild Eagle. "All here, Chief."

"Good. Now we sneak across fort. O'Rourke say wagon with souvenirs inside barn and other wagon with gifts behind barn."

"So what you're orders now, Chief?"

"First we get to barn. And remember to sneak. Must be very quiet and stick to shadows to be sure lookout not see us," Wild Eagle whispered. He put a finger to his lips, then motioned for them all to follow and started off.

For the first fifty yards they stayed in cover, creeping near the edges of buildings and jumping from shadow to shadow. But they soon discovered a flaw in the plan. The barn was on the opposite end of the compound. They all huddled in a dark shadow while contemplating the problem.

"What we do now, Chief?" Crazy Cat asked. "Barn way over there and we here. How we get from here to there?"

"Should have taken that left turn at berry bush. Would have come through closer to objective," Wild Eagle mused. Then his head came up decisively. "Only one way. Like old Hekawi saying, shortest route between two teepees is straight footpath. We go straight across."

Crazy Cat eyes the wide compound nervously. The moon now bathed the area in a dim light, but enough that it would make anyone crossing quite visible. "Long way across, Chief. What if soldier in tower spot us?"

"Then remember old Indian trick. If someone spot you, freeze in place, then them not able to see you."

"Not try to disagree, Chief, but if someone spot us, would rather him not see me because I already run away. Lot less likely to get killed that way."

Wild Eagle flipped a hand. "Not have anything to worry 'bout. This trick been used by Indian for years. Work every time."

He peeked out of the shadow and scanned the area. At the moment, the figure in the lookout tower had his back turned. Wild Eagle motioned for the rest to follow and carefully stepped out into the moonlight. The train of Indians followed, all seven tiptoeing in a line behind. All windows remained dark and all stayed quiet as they reached the center of the compound.

"Hi fellas!" a voice suddenly called out.

The line of braves jumped in fright.

"Freeze!" Wild Eagle shouted huskily.

The line of Indians froze where they were, all in mid-state of walking and the fright they had experienced still on their faces. Wild Eagle looked around as far as his eyes would allow him, but the compound seemed to remain deserted.

"W-who say that?" Crazy Cat whimpered in his motionless state.

Just then the voice came again from the top of the tower. "Don't worry fellas! I won't shoot at you! I can see it's not Injuns this time!" With that, Vanderbilt went back to his vigilance.

Below, all stood in bafflement. No one in the buildings seemed to have heard and they relaxed as everything went back to peace and quiet.

"Didn't say old Indian trick work like that, Chief," Crazy Cat said. "If not see you; they think you someone else."

Wild Eagle shook his head in bafflement. "Never know it have that kind of side effect."

"Must say; does make sneaking lot easier."

Still being cautious, but not quite as sneaky, they sped up their pace and hurried on. They reached the barn a moment later.

Wild Eagle turned to Crazy Cat as he whispered his instructions. "I take three braves and go in barn, get souvenirs off wagon. Crazy Cat, you take other three and get boxes off wagon behind barn and bring them in. When that done we load them on wagon in barn."

"What about souvenirs, Chief? You want us to put them on wagon behind barn?"

Wild Eagle shook his head. "No. That why we bring empty wagon that we leave outside fort in woods. We load boxes on wagon and take them back to camp. That way not lose track of again." Crazy Cat nodded in approval. "That good thinking, Chief."

With that they split up. The ones outside unloaded the crates behind the barn and brought them inside where the rest were unloading the ones there and stacking them in a pile. The wagon was then reloaded with the ones from outside. With more hands, the work took half the time it had taken O'Rourke and Agarn, and they were soon done.

Crazy Cat looked at the large stack of crates. "How we get crates out of fort to our wagon, Chief?" he asked.

Wild Eagle thought for a moment, then went to the barn doors and peeked out. The lookout wasn't watching the compound but intently watching the view outside. "Have idea. Each brave grab box."

They did so and followed Wild Eagle on tiptoe back across the compound to the front gates. The chief quietly lifted the bar from its hooks, setting it to one side, and swung one of the gates open a bit. He turned with a triumphant smile. "Better than dragging all crates under fence."

Crazy Cat sighed. "That why you chief and me assistant."

Wild Eagle gave a nod as he tapped the side of his forehead with a finger. "Got to have good head on shoulders. Now we take out to where horses wait with cart."

Back and forth the braves traveled as they took the crates from the barn and carried them out through the gates until they finally reached the last ones. Wild Eagle watched as the last brave disappeared through the gates with the last crate. Crazy Cat came trotting up.

"All done, Chief," he announced.

"You remember to shut barn door?"

"Yes, Chief."

"And you make sure we not leave nothing behind?"

"Yes, Chief."

Wild Eagle gave a nod. "Good. Now we get back to camp before soldiers wake up. Crazy Cat, you put bar back on gate, then come out under fence. We meet you at hole then we fill in so no one suspect we here."

"Right, Chief."

Wild Eagle walked through and Crazy Cat shut the gate after him. He put the bar back in place and quickly hurried back to where the hole was. He slipped inside and began to wiggle back down. He was startled when a high-pitched voice filled the damp air.

"Five o'clock and aaallll is weeeeelllll!"

Crazy Cat scowled up at the tower before disappearing down into the hole. "Wish him stop doing that. Scary enough in dark as it is."