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Updated: May 11, 2025
Thus the Shasta River issues from a large lake-like spring in Shasta Valley, and about two thirds of the volume of the McCloud River gushes forth suddenly from the face of a lava bluff in a roaring spring seventy-five yards wide. These spring rivers of the north are of course shorter than those of the south whose tributaries extend up to the tops of the mountains.
"Not till we know just how we stand," Sinclair answered insolently. He continued to speak, but McCloud turned to the men. "Boys, go back to your work. Your boss and I can settle our own differences. I'll see that you lose nothing by working hard." "And you'll see we make nothing, won't you?" suggested Karg.
About four o'clock one afternoon we went aboard the Sacramento steamer, Antelope, paying our passage with half an ounce apiece, and were soon on our way past the islands and up the bay. When we were beyond Benicia, where the river banks were close, McCloud sat watching the shore, and remarked that the boat ran like a greyhound, and it seemed to him, beat the old ocean steamer pretty bad.
McCloud joined the visitors for a few moments and then went back to where Dancing and his men on life-lines were guiding the mattress to its resting-place. In spite of the gloom of the rain, which Whispering Smith said was breaking, Dicksie rode back to the house in much better spirits with her two guests; and when they came from luncheon the sun, as Smith had predicted, was shining.
You have stood between him and her when I couldn't be here to do it, and when she didn't want me to helped her when I hadn't the privilege of doing it." McCloud put up his hand in protest, but it was unheeded. "How many times it has been in my heart to kill that man. She knows it; she prays it may never happen. That is why she stays here and has kept me out of the mountains.
The riderless horses bolted; the posse, thrown into a panic, did not fire a shot, and for an hour dared not ride back for the bodies. After dark they got the two dead men and at midnight rode with them into Sleepy Cat. When the news reached McCloud he was talking with Bucks over the wires.
The two men were pulling boxes out for seats; McCloud did not stop to look up. "I crawl under the bed the others don't seem to mind it." "Which is your bed?" "Whichever I can crawl under quickest. I usually sleep there." He pointed to the one on the right. "I thought so. It has the blanket folded back so neatly, just as if there were sheets under it. I'll bet there aren't any."
"Which shoulder is sprung." "Oh, of course! The right shoulder, and it is sprung pretty badly, too, Cousin Lance says. How very stupid of me to ride over here for a freight wreck!" McCloud felt humiliated at having nothing better worth while to offer. "It was a very bad one," he ventured. "But not of the kind I can be of any help at, I fear." McCloud smiled. "We are certainly short of help."
"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.
One evening he went so far as to attempt an inventory of her stock and some schedule of her accounts; but Marion, with the front-shop curtains closely drawn and McCloud perspiring on a step-ladder, inspecting boxes of feathers and asking stern questions, would look so pathetically sweet and helpless when she tried to recall what things cost that McCloud could not be angry with her; indeed, the pretty eyes behind the patient spectacles would disarm any one.
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