CHAPTER XVI
AT THE WICKIUP
Two nights later Whispering Smith rode into Medicine Bend. "I've beenup around Williams Cache," he said, answering McCloud's greeting as heentered the upstairs office. "How goes it?" He was in his riding rig,just as he had come from a late supper.
When he asked for news McCloud told him the story of the trouble withLance Dunning over the survey, and added that he had referred thematter to Glover. He told then of his unpleasant surprise when ridinghome afterward.
"Yes," assented Smith, looking with feverish interest at McCloud'shead; "I heard about it."
"That's odd, for I haven't said a word about the matter to anybody butMarion Sinclair, and you haven't seen her."
"I heard up the country. It is great luck that he missed you."
"Who missed me?"
"The man that was after you."
"The bullet went through my hat."
"Let me see the hat."
McCloud produced it. It was a heavy, broad-brimmed Stetson, with abullet-hole cut cleanly through the front and the back of the crown.Smith made McCloud put the hat on and describe his position when theshot was fired. McCloud stood up, and Whispering Smith eyed him andput questions.
"What do you think of it?" asked McCloud when he had done.
Smith leaned forward on the table and pushed McCloud's hat toward himas if the incident were closed. "There is no question in my mind, andthere never has been, but that Stetson puts up the best hat worn onthe range."
McCloud raised his eyebrows. "Why, thank you! Your conclusion clearsthings so. After you speak a man has nothing to do but guess."
"But, by Heaven, George," exclaimed Smith, speaking with unaccustomedfervor, "Miss Dicksie Dunning is a hummer, _isn't_ she? That childwill have the whole range going in another year. To think of herstanding up and lashing her cousin in that way when he was browbeatinga railroad man!"
"Where did you hear about that?"
"The whole Crawling Stone country is talking about it. You never toldme you had a misunderstanding with Dicksie Dunning at Marion's.Loosen up!"
"I will loosen up in the way you do. What scared me most, Gordon, waswaiting for the second shot. Why didn't he fire again?"
"Doubtless he thought he had you the first time. Any man big enough tostart after you is not used to shooting twice at two hundred and fiftyyards. He probably thought you were falling out of the saddle; and itwas dark. I can account for everything but your reaching the pass solate. How did you spend all your time between the ranch and thefoothills?"
McCloud saw there was no escape from telling of his meeting withDicksie Dunning, of her warning, and of his ride to the gate with her.Every point brought a suppressed exclamation from Whispering Smith."So she gave you your life," he mused. "Good for her! If you had gotinto the pass on time you could not have got away--the cards werestacked for you. He overestimated you a little, George; just a little.Good men make mistakes. The sport of circumstances that we are! Thesport of circumstances!"
"Now tell me how _you_ heard so much about it, Gordon, and where?"
"Through a friend, but forget it."
"Do you know who shot at me?"
"Yes."
"I think I do, too. I think it was the fellow that shot so well withthe rifle at the barbecue--what was his name? He was working forSinclair, and perhaps is yet."
"You mean Seagrue, the Montana cowboy? No, you are wrong. Seagrue is aman-killer, but a square one."
"How do you know?"
"I will tell you sometime--but this was not Seagrue."
"One of Dunning's men, was it? Stormy Gorman?"
"No, no, a very different sort! Stormy is a wind-bag. The man that isafter you is in town at this minute, and he has come to stay until hefinishes his job."
"The devil! That's what makes your eyes so bright, is it? Do you knowhim?"
"I have seen him. You may see him yourself if you want to."
"I'd like nothing better. When?"
"To-night--in thirty minutes." McCloud closed his desk. There was arap at the door.
"That must be Kennedy," said Smith. "I haven't seen him, but I sentword for him to meet me here." The door opened and Kennedy entered theroom.
"Sit down, Farrell," said Whispering Smith easily. "_Ve gates?_"
"How's that?"
"_Wie geht es?_ Don't pretend you can't make out my German. He istrying to let on he is not a Dutchman," observed Whispering Smith toMcCloud. "You wouldn't believe it, but I can remember when Farrellwore wooden shoes and lighted his pipe with a candle. He sleeps undera feather-bed yet. Du Sang is in town, Farrell."
"Du Sang!" echoed the tall man with mild interest as he picked up aruler and, throwing his leg on the edge of the table, looked cheerful."How long has Du Sang been in town? Visiting friends or doingbusiness?"
"He is after your superintendent. He has been here since four o'clock,I reckon, and I've ridden a hard road to-day to get in in time to talkit over with him. Want to go?"
Kennedy slapped his leg with the ruler. "I always want to go, don'tI?"
"Farrell, if you hadn't been a railroad man you would have made agreat undertaker, do you know that?" Kennedy, slapping his leg, showedhis ivory teeth. "You have such an instinct for funerals," addedWhispering Smith.
"Now, Mr. Smith! Well, who are we waiting for? I'm ready," saidKennedy, taking out his revolver and examining it.
McCloud put on his new hat and asked if he should take a gun. "You arereally accompanying me as my guest, George," explained WhisperingSmith reproachfully. "Won't it be fun to shove this man right under DuSang's nose and make him bat his eyes?" he added to Kennedy. "Well,put one in your pocket if you like, George, provided you have one thatwill go off when sufficiently urged."
McCloud opened the drawer of the table and took from it a revolver.Whispering Smith reached out his hand for the gun, examined it, andhanded it back.
"You don't like it."
Smith smiled a sickly approbation. "A forty-five gun with athirty-eight bore, George? A little light for shock; a _little_ light.A bullet is intended to knock a man down; not necessarily to kill him,but, if possible, to keep him from killing you. Never mind, we allhave our fads. Come on!"
At the foot of the stairs Whispering Smith stopped. "Now I don't knowwhere we shall find this man, but we'll try the Three Horses." As theystarted down the street McCloud took the inside of the sidewalk, butSmith dropped behind and brought McCloud into the middle. They failedto find Du Sang at the Three Horses, and leaving started to round upthe street. They visited many places, but each was entered in the sameway. Kennedy sauntered in first and moved slowly ahead. He was to stepaside only in case he saw Du Sang. McCloud in every instance followedhim, with Whispering Smith just behind, amiably surprised. They spentan hour in and out of the Front Street resorts, but their search wasfruitless.
"You are sure he is in town?" asked Kennedy. The three men stooddeliberating in the shadow of a side street.
"Sure!" answered Whispering Smith. "Of course, if he turns the trickhe wants to get away quietly. He is lying low. Who is that, Farrell?"A man passing out of the shadow of a shade tree was crossing FortStreet a hundred feet away.
"It looks like our party," whispered Kennedy. "No, stop a bit!" Theydrew back into the shadow. "That is Du Sang," said Kennedy; "I knowhis hobble."
Whispering Smith Page 17
