gave the _posse_ a gun-fight
all by himself, and wounded two men and made his get-away."

Whispering Smith shook his head, and his hand fell on the table with a
tired laugh. "Barney Rebstock," he murmured, "of all men! Coward,
skate, filler-in! Barney Rebstock--stale-beer man, sneak, barn-yard
thief! Hit two men!" He turned to McCloud. "What kind of a wizard is
Murray Sinclair? What sort of red-blood toxin does he throw into his
gang to draw out a spirit like that? Murray Sinclair belongs to the
race of empire-builders. By Heaven, it is pitiful a man like that
should be out of a job! England, McCloud, needs him. And here he is
holding 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 ride
and I thank you. You are all right. This is the young lady and this is
the 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 here
tell Bob Scott to meet me at the Wickiup with the horses at eleven
o'clock, will you?" He turned to Dicksie in a gentle aside. "I am
riding north to-night--I wish you were going part way."

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

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

Wickwire was thanking Dicksie when unwillingly she let Whispering
Smith's hand slip out of her own. "I shore wouldn't have been here
to-night if you two hadn't picked me up," laughed Wickwire, speaking
softly to Dicksie when she turned to him. "I've knowed my friends a
long 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 each
other, please remember you are always sure of a home at the
ranch--whenever you want one, Mr. Wickwire, and just as long as you
want 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 me
run away now, I want to catch Mr. Whispering Smith for just one
minute."

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

"