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"Vell, and vot has Shirley ever done mit you that you so down on him?" Hans Wyker asked. The smooth mask did not drop from Smith's face, save that the small dark eyes burned with an intense glow. "I tell you I was acting under orders from Shirley's brother Tank in Cloverdale, Ohio. And if Dr. Carey hadn't been so blamed quick I'd have gotten a letter Mrs.
Open that window," Darley Champers complained. "What kept you fellows so long, anyhow?" "Business kep' me, and Smith here, he stop to peek at a pretty girl for goot as ten minute," Hans Wyker said jocosely. Champers stared at Thomas Smith, whose small eyes gleamed back at him. "Oh, I just turned to look at Miss Shirley in the dining room. Can't a man look at a pretty girl if he is past forty-five?
"The game's between us two now," Thomas Smith declared, turning to Hans Wyker. And a grim game was plotted then and there. Hans, who had been a perpetual law-breaker since the loss of his brewery business, had let his hatred of John Jacobs grow to a virulent poison in his system.
But mark me, now, the day he runs Hans Wyker out of that doggery business it will be good-by to John Jacobs. You see if it isn't. I wouldn't start him after it too quick." Darley Champers spent two weeks with his physician, and the many friends of Dr.
"Not with a fat income like yours and small returns to your employer who's kept you all these years," Smith began, but Darley Champers mentally blew up. It was in the bluffer's game that he always succeeded best. "Now, see here, dang you. Get to business. You and Wyker and me dissolved partnership long ago. I've been your agent years and years. I've did my best.
When Hans Wyker had seen his own town wane as Careyville waxed, he consigned the newer community, and all that it was, to all the purgatories ever organized and some yet to be created. Wykerton was at a standstill now. The big brewery had become a flouring mill, but it was idle most of the time.
This messenger was able, for he brought the word to Rosie that John Jacobs would come to his Little Wolf ranch the next day, and late in the evening drop into Wykerton unexpectedly, where he knew Rosie would give him easy access to the "blind tiger" of the Wyker House.
"I may as well let you know now why I can't be known in this," Thomas Smith said smoothly, even if the same gray hue did flit like a shadow a second time across his countenance a thing that did not escape the shrewd eye of Darley Champers this time. "Wyker is pitted against Jacobs. You are after Asher Aydelot's scalp, if you can get it. I must get Jim Shirley, fair or foul."
"If you'd open a bar here you'd do some business and run that Wyker fellow out. Steward, you and Jacobs are too danged satisfied with yourselves. We need some business spirit in this town if we want to get the county seat here," Champers declared.
The new county seat of Wolf County was confidently expected to be pitched at Wykerton, up in the Big Wolf Creek settlement, where one Hans Wyker, former saloon-keeper of Carey's Crossing, was building up a brewery for the downfall of the community. Dr. Carey was taking an extended medical course in the East, whither Bo Peep had followed him.
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