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Updated: May 11, 2025
"If they are wanted." Dicksie tried to look at the fire. "We have hardly deserved help from Mr. McCloud at the ranch," she said at last. He put out his hand. "I must object. The first wreck I ever had on this division Miss Dunning rode twenty miles to offer help. Isn't that true? Why, I would walk a hundred miles to return the offer to her.
She heard Marion at length tell the doctor that McCloud was out of town, and the news seemed to bring back her senses. Then, rising in the bed, while the surgeon and Marion coaxed her to lie down, she clutched at their arms and, looking from one to the other, told her story. When it was done she swooned, but she woke to hear voices at the door of the shop.
She had drawn near Kingozi again, and managed to reach out and press his arm. "Ye'll be married soon, I'm thinking," surmised McCloud. "Depends," replied Kingozi, his brow darkening. "Part of it's up to you, you know," he added briefly. "A blind man is a poor man." "We shall be married soon now, if there is a priest among you!" cried the Leopard Woman vehemently, "As for poor man pouf!"
They bucked away till noon without much headway, and came in with their gear smashed and a driving-rod fractured. It looked as if we were at last beaten. Number One pulled into McCloud that day eighteen hours late; it was Sankey's and Sinclair's run west. There was a long council in the round-house. The rotary was knocked out; coal was running low in the chutes.
One of our freight-traffic men in the Puget Sound country, who has been in a hospital in Victoria, learned by the merest accident that Gordon Smith was lying in the same hospital with typhoid fever." Marion rose swiftly. "Then the time has come, thank God, when I can do something for him; and I am going to him to-night!" "Fine!" cried McCloud. "So am I, and that is why I'm late."
"Grandpa doesn't want his Monty to stay out after dark," chuckled Subway Smith. "It was most thoughtful of the old gentleman to have the man call for you with the perambulator," shouted Pettingill above the laughter. "Tell him you've already had your bottle," added McCloud.
"Then I put her in charge of the man closest to me, George McCloud, and the woman she thinks the most of in the world except her mother. What is this, are they back? Yonder they come." "We found nothing serious," McCloud said, answering their questions as he approached with Lance Dunning. "The current is really swinging away, but the bank is caving in where it was undermined last night."
Look at this man," he nodded toward McCloud. "He is in trouble, and the five hundred under him, they are in all kinds of trouble. I shouldn't know how to sleep without trouble," continued Whispering Smith, warming to the contention. "Without trouble I lose my appetite. McCloud, don't be tight; pass the bread." "Never heard him do so well," declared McCloud, looking at Marion.
The valley was not unknown to McCloud. His first year in the mountains, in which, fitted as thoroughly as he could fit himself for his profession, he had come West and found himself unable to get work, had been spent hunting, fishing, and wandering, often cold and often hungry, in the upper Crawling Stone country.
Du Sang knew he must try for a quick kill or make a retreat. He took in the field at a glance. Kennedy's teeth gleamed only ten feet away, and with his right hand half under his coat lapel he toyed with his watch-chain. McCloud had moved in from the slot machine and stood at the point of the table, looking at Du Sang and laughing at him. Whispering Smith threw off all pretence.
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