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Updated: May 8, 2025
The doctor struck him, and then the marshal came up you know him, Bill Hickock and the impudent fellow actually declared he knew me, that I was Christie Maclaire. I tried to explain, but they hurried me on through the crowd to the hotel, and I became confused, and forgot. Do you suppose they registered me by that name?"
"Oh, what would I have done if you had not been here?" "Let us not think about that; we were here, and now have a busy night before us if we get away safely. Give me the rope first. Good! Here, Neb, you must know how to use this, not too tight, but without leaving any play to the arms; take the knife out of his belt. Now for the cloth, Miss Maclaire." "Please do not call me that!"
The boy lifted his head again, his eyes filled with suspicion. "Yes, if you must know; he's a gambler all right, but he's stuck to me when I was down and out. You know him?" "Just a little," carelessly; "but what sort of a trick could he be working trying to make you acknowledge Christie Maclaire as your sister?" Willoughby did not answer, shifting uneasily about on the bed.
I can assure you our criminals out here are the most interesting portion of our population. I wish I might have your permission." Standing there before her, bare-headed, his slightly tanned face strong and manly, his gray eyes filled with humor, Miss Maclaire recognized again that he was not of the common herd, and the innate coquetry of her nature obtained mastery.
Whatever the nature of the revelation it would have to wait until the walk home. The excitement of the adventure was already creeping into Keith's blood, his pulse quickening. The two returned almost immediately, conclusively proving that Miss Maclaire, fully dressed for the street, had been awaiting the arrival of her gallant with some impatience.
Hawley would surely have ended his call upon Miss Maclaire long before this, and left the hotel. However interesting his communication might have proven, she must fill her evening engagement at the Trocadero, and would require time for supper and rest. As to the result of that interview there could be little doubt.
Apparently the latter was either already here in Sheridan or expected soon. And exactly what was it the gambler desired this Maclaire woman to do? This was the important matter, and for its solution Keith possessed merely a few hints, a few vague suggestions. She was expected to represent herself as Phyllis Phyllis who?
A glance at the office clock convinced Keith that, in all probability, Miss Maclaire had not, as yet, departed for the scene of her evening triumph. Still, it could not be long before she would, and he lit a cigar, sitting down in a corner partially concealed by the clerk's desk to wait her appearance.
"It's little the loss to ye not ter be her, an' Oi'm thinkin' loikely Jack Keith will be moighty well plased ter know the truth. What's 'Black Bart' so ayger ter git hold av this Maclaire gyurl fer?" "I do not in the least know. He must have induced me to go to that place in the desert believing me to be the other woman. Yet he said nothing of any purpose; indeed, he found no opportunity." Mrs.
To Keith this was the explanation, and nothing could be more natural, considering her work, yet he did not feel like shattering the lad's loyalty. Faith in the sister might yet save him. "Perhaps the fellow who told you," he hazarded blindly, speaking the first thought which came to his mind, "had some reason to desire to make you think this Maclaire girl was your sister."
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