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Updated: May 11, 2025
He stood until the music ceased and footsteps moved about in the room; then he knocked, and a light appeared within. Whispering Smith opened the door. He stood in his trousers and shirt, with his cartridge-belt in his hand. "Come in, George. I'm just getting hooked up." "Which way are you going to-night, Gordon?" asked McCloud, sitting down on the chair. "I am going to Oroville.
It was Sinclair's trick to do things for people, and to make himself so useful that they must like first his obligingness and afterward himself. Sinclair, McCloud knew, was close in many ways to Lance Dunning. It was said to have been his influence that won Dunning's consent to sell a right of way across the ranch for the new Crawling Stone Line.
"How is Number One, Rooney?" called McCloud, as if nothing but the thought of a train movement ever entered his head. Rooney Lee paused. In his hand he held a message. Rooney's cheeks were hollow and his sunken eyes were large. His face, which was singularly a night face, would shock a stranger, but any man on the division would have given his life for Rooney.
The Scott, Siskiyou, and Trinity Mountains rise in long, compact waves to the west and southwest, and the valley of the Sacramento and the coast mountains, with their marvelous wealth of woods and waters, are seen; while close around the base of the mountain lie the beautiful Shasta Valley, Strawberry Valley, Huckleberry Valley, and many others, with the headwaters of the Shasta, Sacramento, and McCloud Rivers.
When he and Dancing joined Sinclair and McCloud the talk between the superintendent and the wrecking boss had become animated. "I always do something for my men out of a wreck when I can; that's the way I get the work out of them," Sinclair was saying.
"The crowd couldn't believe its eyes," Gordon Smith concluded, "and McCloud was pushing for the blacksmith with his cue when Kennedy and I squirmed through to the front and relieved the tension. McCloud wasn't hit." "What is that mining man's name?" asked Bucks, reaching for a message clip. "McCloud." "First name?" continued Bucks mechanically. "George." Bucks looked at his companion in surprise.
All this has helped to turn Sinclair's head, and this is exactly the situation you and McCloud and I and a lot of others are up against. They don't know all this, but I know it, and now you know it. Let me tell you something that comes close to home. You have a cowboy on the ranch named Karg he is called Flat Nose. Karg was a railroad man.
In the streets, little groups of men discussed the fragmentary reports as they came from the railroad offices. Toward morning, Sleepy Cat, nearer the scene of the fight, began sending in telegraphic reports in which truth and rumor were strangely mixed. McCloud waited at the wires all night, hoping for trustworthy advices as to the result, but received none.
McCloud galloped toward the pass with one determination that he would have a horse, and a good one, one that could travel with Jim, if it cost him his salary. He exulted as he rode, for the day had brought him everything he wished, and humiliation had been swallowed up in triumph. It was nearly dark when he reached the crest between the hills.
With the feeling of one who was not quite sure that he was awake, Philip paused under a street lamp ten minutes after leaving the McCloud apartments, and looked at his watch. It was a quarter of two o'clock. A low whistle of surprise fell from his lips. For three hours he had been with Colonel McCloud and his daughter. It had seemed like an hour.
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