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Updated: May 20, 2025
Silverthorn, reaching his room in an hour after Vibbard had left it, was not at first surprised at his absence. Afterward he grew anxious; he went out, ran all the way to Winwood's house, and came back, hoping to find that his friend had returned while he was searching for him.
Morley had promised to play cards with some of his men in the City Hotel barroom, and he joined them there, while Silverthorn went to his rooms in the upper story of the station. After the departure of the others, Maison sat for a long time at the table in the private room, making figures on paper. Maison had exacted from the world all the luxuries he thought his pampered body desired.
He turned from the door, stretched himself on the cot, and with his face to the wall listened while Silverthorn cursed. Shortly after midnight Sanderson was sound asleep on the cot in the cell when a strange, scraping noise awakened him. He lay still for a long time, listening, until he discovered that the sound came from the window.
"That's the reason you was so willin' to sign all the papers that wanted Will Bransford's signature. I sure was a boxhead for not tumblin' to that." He laughed, meeting Mary's gaze and holding it. "Talkin' of throwin' up the deal," he said. "That couldn't be. Dale an' Silverthorn an' Maison an' their gang of cutthroats couldn't make me give it up. There's only one person could make me do that.
He arrived in sight of Vicksburg at four o'clock in the afternoon and was met by the steamer Silverthorn towing a big barge, loaded with excursionists. It appeared as though the entire population of the town and surrounding country had assembled on the river bank.
Silverthorn saw a lean-faced, broad-shouldered young man with a strong chin, a firm mouth, and an eye that fixed him with a steady, unwavering interest. By the gleam in Sanderson's eyes Silverthorn divined that he was in the presence of a strong, opposing force, and he drew a slow, deep breath. "Well?" he said, again. "You're Dave Silverthorn?" The other nodded.
The next time I saw Silverthorn, which was a full year later, I said to him: "Do you hear from Vibbard anything about that agreement to divide your gains?" "No!" he replied, avoiding my eye; "nothing about that." "Do you expect him to keep it?" "Yes!" he said, glancing swiftly up again, with a gleam of friendly vindication in his eyes. "I know he will."
For a second or two Vibbard's eyelids, which fell powerless while he listened, remained shut, and a shock of pain seemed to strike downward from the brain, across his face and through his whole stalwart frame. "It's your turn to hurt me," he said, slowly, as he looked at his friend again. "Have you any idea how that bare suggestion cut into me?" "I think I have," said Silverthorn, mechanically.
"Now, tell me one thing," resumed Silverthorn; "did it never occur to you, in all these six years, that I, who have been living in the daily company of the girl you love, might cross your prospect?"
"The idea is to keep even as long as we can, you know," said Silverthorn, turning from one of my books which he had begun to glance through, and looking into my eyes with a delighted, straightforward gaze. "That's a very curious notion!" said I, revolving the plan with a caution born of legal readings. "Before we go on, would you mind telling me which one of you originated this scheme?"
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