Whispering Smith

  CHAPTER XXXVII

  WICKWIRE

  McCloud and Dicksie met them at the porch door. Marion, unnerved, wentdirectly to her room. Whispering Smith stopped to speak to Dicksie andMcCloud interposed. "Bob Scott telephoned the office just now he had aman from Oroville who wanted to see you right away, Gordon," said he."I told him to send him over here. It is Wickwire."

  "Wickwire," repeated Whispering Smith. "Wickwire has no business herethat I know of; no doubt it is something I ought to know of. And, bythe way, you ought to see this man," he said, turning again toDicksie. "If McCloud tells the story right, Wickwire is a sort ofprotege of yours, Miss Dicksie, though neither of you seems to haveknown it. He is the tramp cowboy who was smashed up in the wreck atSmoky Creek. He is not a bad man, but whiskey, you know, beats somedecent men." A footstep fell on the porch. "There he comes now, Ireckon. Shall I let him in a minute?"

  "Oh, I should like to see him! He has been at the ranch at differenttimes, you know."

  Smith opened the door and stepping out on the porch, talked with thenew-comer. In a moment he brought him in. Dicksie had seated herselfon the sofa, McCloud stood in the doorway of the dining-room, andWhispering Smith laid one arm on the table as he sat down beside itwith his face above the dark shade of the lamp. Before him stoodWickwire. The half-light threw him up tall and dark, but it showed theheavy shock of black hair falling over his forehead, and the broad,thin face of a mountain man.

  "He has just been telling me that Seagrue is loose," Whispering Smithexplained pleasantly. "Who turned the trick, Wickwire?"

  "Sheriff Coon and a deputy jailer started with Seagrue for MedicineBend this morning. Coming through Horse Eye Canyon, Murray Sinclairand Barney Rebstock got a clean drop on them, took Seagrue, and theyall rode off together. They didn't make any bones about it, either.Their gang has got lots of friends over there, you know. They rodeinto Atlantic City and stayed over an hour. Coon tracked them thereand got up a _posse_ of six men. The three were standing in front ofthe bank when the sheriff rode into town. Sinclair and Seagrue got ontheir horses and started off. Rebstock went back to get anotherdrink. When he came out of the saloon he gave the _posse_ a gun-fightall by himself, and wounded two men and made his get-away."

  Whispering Smith shook his head, and his hand fell on the table with atired laugh. "Barney Rebstock," he murmured, "of all men! Coward,skate, filler-in! Barney Rebstock--stale-beer man, sneak, barn-yardthief! Hit two men!" He turned to McCloud. "What kind of a wizard isMurray Sinclair? What sort of red-blood toxin does he throw into hisgang to draw out a spirit like that? Murray Sinclair belongs to therace of empire-builders. By Heaven, it is pitiful a man like thatshould be out of a job! England, McCloud, needs him. And here he isholding up trains on the mountain division!"

  "They are all up at Oroville with the Williams Cache gang, celebrating,"continued Wickwire.

  Whispering Smith looked at the cowboy. "Wickwire, you made a good rideand I thank you. You are all right. This is the young lady and this isthe man who had you sent to the hospital from Smoky Creek," he added,rising. "You can thank them for picking you up. When you leave heretell Bob Scott to meet me at the Wickiup with the horses at eleveno'clock, will you?" He turned to Dicksie in a gentle aside. "I amriding north to-night--I wish you were going part way."

  Dicksie looked at him intently. "You are worried over something," shemurmured; "I can see it in your face."

  "Nothing more than usual. I thrive, you know, on trouble--and I'msorry to say good-night so early, but I have a long ride ahead." Hestepped quietly past McCloud and out of the door.

  Wickwire was thanking Dicksie when unwillingly she let WhisperingSmith's hand slip out of her own. "I shore wouldn't have been hereto-night if you two hadn't picked me up," laughed Wickwire, speakingsoftly to Dicksie when she turned to him. "I've knowed my friends along time, but I reckon they all didn't know me."

  "I've known you longer than you think," returned Dicksie with a smile."I've seen you at the ranch-house. But now that we really do know eachother, please remember you are always sure of a home at theranch--whenever you want one, Mr. Wickwire, and just as long as youwant one. We never forget our friends on the Crawling Stone."

  "If I may make so bold, I thank you kindly. And if you all will let merun away now, I want to catch Mr. Whispering Smith for just oneminute."

  Wickwire overtook Smith in Fort Street. "Talk quick, Wickwire," hesaid; "I'm in a hurry. What do you want?"

  "Partner, I've always played fair with you."

  "So far as I know, Wickwire, yes. Why?"

  "I've got a favor to ask."

  "What is it--money?"

  "No, partner, not money this time. You've always been more thanliberal with me. But so far I've had to keep under cover; you asked meto. I want to ask the privilege now of coming out into the open. Thejig is up so far as watching anybody goes."

  "Yes."

  "There's nobody to watch any more--they're all to chase, I reckon,now. The open is my kind of a fight, anyway. I want to ride out thismanhunt with you."

  "How is your arm?"

  "My arm is all right, and there ought to be a place for me in thechase now that Ed Banks is out of it. I want to cut loose up on therange, anyhow; if I'm a man I want to know it, and if I ain't I wantto know it. I want to ride with you after Seagrue and Sinclair andBarney Rebstock."

  Whispering Smith spoke coldly: "You mean, Wickwire, you want to getkilled."

  "Why, partner, if it's coming to me, I don't mind--yes."

  "What's the use, Wickwire?"

  "If I'm a man I want to know it; if I ain't, it's time my friendsknowed it. Anyhow, I'm man enough to work out with some of that gang.Most of them have put it over me one time or another; Sinclair pastedme like a blackbird only the other day. They all say I'm nothing but adamned tramp. You say I have done you service--give me a show."

  Whispering Smith stopped a minute in the shadow of a tree and lookedkeenly at him. "I'm too busy to-night to say much, Wickwire," he saidafter a moment. "You go over to the barn and report to Bob Scott. Ifyou want to take the chances, it is up to you; and if Bob Scott isagreeable, I'll use you where I can--that's all I can promise. Youwill probably have more than one chance to get killed."