Whispering Smith

by Frank H. Spearman

  CHAPTER XXXIII

  THE LAUGH OF A WOMAN

  Within an hour, Marion, working over a hat in the trimming-room, wasstartled to hear the cottage door open, and to see Dicksie quiteunconcernedly walk in. To Marion's exclamation of surprise shereturned only a laugh. "I have changed my mind, dear. I am going tostay all night."

  Marion kissed her approvingly. "Really, you are getting so sensible Ishan't know you, Dicksie. In fact, I believe this is the most sensiblething you were ever guilty of."

  "Glad you think so," returned Dicksie dryly, unpinning her hat. "Icertainly hope it is. Mr. McCloud persuaded me it wasn't right for meto ride home alone, and I knew better than he what danger there wasfor him in riding home with me--so here I am. He is coming over forsupper, too, in a few minutes."

  When McCloud arrived he brought with him a porterhouse steak, andMarion was again driven from the kitchen. At the end of an hour,Dicksie, engrossed over the broiler, was putting the finishing touchesto the steak, and McCloud, more engrossed, was watching her, when adiffident and surprised-looking person appeared in the kitchen doorwayand put his hand undecidedly on the casing. While he stood, Dicksieturned abruptly to McCloud.

  "Oh, by the way, I have forgotten something! Will you do me a favor?"

  "Certainly! Do you want money or a pass?"

  "No, not money," said Dicksie, lifting the steak on her forks, "thoughyou might give me a pass."

  "But I should hate to have you go away anywhere----"

  "I don't want to go anywhere, but I never had a pass, and I think itwould be kind of nice to have one just to keep. Don't you?"

  "Why, yes; you might put it in the bank and have it drawinginterest."

  "This steak is. Do they give interest on passes?"

  "Well, a good deal of interest is felt in them--on this division atleast. What is the favor?"

  "Yes, what is it? How can I think? Oh, I know! If they don't put Jimin a box stall to-night he will kill some of the horses over there.Will you telephone the stables?"

  "Won't you give me the number and let me telephone?" asked a voicebehind them. They turned in astonishment and saw Whispering Smith. "Iam surprised," he added calmly, "to see a man of your intelligence,George, trying to broil a steak with the lower door of your stove wideopen. Close the lower door and cut out the draft through the fire.Don't stare, George; put back the broiler. And haven't you made aradical mistake to start with?" he asked, stepping between theconfused couple. "Are you not trying to broil a roast of beef?"

  "Where did you come from?" demanded McCloud, as Marion came in fromthe dining-room.

  "Don't search me the very first thing," protested Whispering Smith.

  "But we've been frightened to death here for twenty-four hours. Areyou really alive and unhurt? This young lady rode in twenty miles thismorning and came to the office in tears to get news of you."

  Smith looked mildly at Dicksie. "Did you shed a tear for me? I shouldlike to have seen just one! Where did I come from? I reported in wildover the telephone ten minutes ago. Didn't Marion tell you? She is soforgetful. That is what causes wrecks, Marion. I have been in thesaddle since three o'clock this morning, thank you, and have hadnothing for five days but raw steer garnished with sunshine."

  The four sat down to supper, and Whispering Smith began to talk. Hetold the story of the chase to the Cache, the defiance from Rebstock,and the tardy appearance of the men he wanted. "Du Sang meant to shoothis way through us and make a dash for it. There really was nothingelse for him to do. Banks and Kennedy were up above, even if he couldhave ridden out through the upper canyon, which is very doubtful withall the water now. After a little talk back and forth, Du Sang drew,and of course then it was every man for himself. He was hit twice andhe died Sunday night, but the other two were not seriously hurt. Whatcan you do? It is either kill or get killed with those fellows, and,of course, I talked plainly to Du Sang. He had butchered a man atMission Springs just the night before, and deserved hanging a dozentimes over. He meant from the start, he told me afterward, to get me.Oh, Miss Dunning, may I have some more coffee? Haven't I an agreeablepart of the railroad business, don't you think? I shouldn't havepushed in here to-night, but I saw the lights when I rode by awhileago; they looked so good I couldn't resist."

  McCloud leaned forward. "You call it pushing in, do you, Gordon? Doyou know what this young lady did this morning? One of her cowboyscame down from the Cache early with the word that you had been killedin the fight by Du Sang. He said he saw you drop from your saddle tothe ground with Du Sang shooting at you. She ordered up her horse,without a word, and rode twenty miles in an hour and a half to findout here what we had heard. She 'pushed in' at the Wickiup, where shenever had been before in her life, and wandered through it alonelooking for my office, to find out from me whether I hadn't somethingto contradict the bad news. While we talked, in came your despatchfrom Sleepy Cat. Never was one better timed! And when she knew youwere safe her eyes filled again."

  Whispering Smith looked at Dicksie quizzically. Her confusion wasdelightful. He rose, lifted her hand in his own, and, bending, kissedit.

  They talked till late, and when Dicksie walked out on the porchMcCloud followed to smoke. Whispering Smith still sat at the tabletalking to Marion, and the two heard the sound of the low voicesoutside. At intervals Dicksie's laugh came in through the open door.

  Whispering Smith, listening, said nothing for some time, but once shelaughed peculiarly. He pricked up his ears. "What has been happeningsince I left town?"

  "What do you mean?" asked Marion Sinclair.

  He nodded toward the porch. "McCloud and Dicksie out there. They havebeen fixing things up."

  "Nonsense! What do you mean?"

  "I mean they are engaged."

  "Never in the world!"

  "I may be slow in reading a trail," said Smith modestly, "but when awoman laughs like that I think there's something doing. Don't youbelieve it? Call them in and ask them. You won't? Well, I will. Takethem in separate rooms. You ask her and I'll ask him."

  In spite of Marion's protests the two were brought in. "I am requiredby Mr. Smith to ask you a very silly question, Dicksie," said Marion,taking her into the living-room. "Answer yes or no. Are you engaged toanybody?"

  "What a question! Why, no!"

  "Marion Sinclair wants to know just one thing, George," saidWhispering Smith to McCloud after he had taken him into the dark shop."She feels she ought to know because she is in a way Dicksie'schaperone, you know, and she feels that you are willing she shouldknow. I don't want to be too serious, but answer yes or no. Are youengaged to Dicksie?"

  "Why, yes. I----"

  "That's all; go back to the porch," directed Whispering Smith. McCloudobeyed orders.

  Marion, alone in the living-room, was waiting for the inquisitor, andher face wore a look of triumph. "You are not such a mind-reader afterall, are you? I told you they weren't."

  "I told you they were," contended Whispering Smith.

  "She says they are _not_," insisted Marion.

  "He says they are," returned Whispering Smith, "And, what's more, I'llbet my saddle against the shop they are. I could be mistaken inanything but that laugh."