Whispering Smith

by Frank H. Spearman

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  A MIDNIGHT VISIT

  The lights, but one, were out. McCloud and Whispering Smith had gone,and Marion was locking up the house for the night, when she was haltedby a knock at the shop door. It was a summons that she thought sheknew, but the last in the world that she wanted to hear or to answer.Dicksie had gone to the bedroom, and standing between the portieresthat curtained the work-room from the shop, Marion in the half-lightlistened, hesitating whether to ignore or to answer the midnightintruder. But experience, and bitter experience, had taught her therewas only one way to meet that particular summons, and that was to act,whether at noon or at midnight, without fear. She waited until theknocking had been twice repeated, turned up the light, and going tothe door drew the bolt; Sinclair stood before her, and she drew backfor him to enter. "Dicksie Dunning is with me to-night," said Marion,with her hand on the latch, "and we shall have to talk here."

  Sinclair took off his hat. "I knew you had company," he returned inthe low, gentle tone that Marion knew very well, "so I came late. AndI heard to-night, for the first time, that this railroad crowd isafter me--God knows why; but they have to earn their salary somehow. Iwant to keep out of trouble if I can. I won't kill anybody if theydon't force me to it. They've scared nearly all my men away from theranch already; one crippled-up cowboy is all I have got to help melook after the cattle. But I won't quarrel with them, Marion, if I canget away from here peaceably, so I've come to talk it over once morewith you. I'm going away and I want you to go with me; I've got enoughto keep us as well as the best of them and as long as we live. You'vegiven me a good lesson. I needed it, girlie----"

  "Don't call me that!"

  He laughed kindly. "Why, that's what it used to be; that's what I wantit to be again. I don't blame you. You're worth all the women I everknew, Marion. I've learned to appreciate some few things in the lonelymonths I've spent up on the Frenchman; but I've felt while I was thereas if I were working for both of us. I've got a buyer in sight now forthe cattle and the land. I'm ready to clean up and say good-by totrouble--all I want is for you to give me the one chance I've askedfor and go along."

  They stood facing each other under the dim light. She listenedintently to every word, though in her terror she might not have heardor understood all of them. One thing she did very clearly understand,and that was why he had come and what he wanted. To that she held hermind tenaciously, and for that she shaped her answer. "I cannot gowith you--now or ever."

  He waited a moment. "We always got along, Marion, when I behavedmyself."

  "I hope you always will behave yourself; but I could no more go withyou than I could make myself again what I was years ago, Murray. Iwish you nothing but good; but our ways parted long ago."

  "Stop and think a minute, Marion. I offer you more and offer it morehonestly than I ever offered it before, because I know myself better.I am alone in the world--strong, and better able to care for you thanI was when I undertook to----"

  "I have never complained."

  "That's what makes me more anxious to show you now that I can and willdo what's right."

  "Oh, you multiply words! It is too late for you to be here. You are indanger, you say; for the love of Heaven, leave me and go away!"

  "You know me, Marion, when my mind is made up. I won't leave withoutyou." He leaned with one hand against the ribbon showcase. "If youdon't want to go I will stay right here and pay off the scores I owe.Two men here have stirred this country up too long, anyway. I don'tcare much how soon anybody gets me after I round them up. But to-nightI felt like this: you and I started out in life together, and we oughtto live it out or die together, whether it's to-night, Marion, ortwenty years from to-night."

  "If you want to kill me to-night, I have no resistance to make."

  Sinclair sat down on a low counter-stool, and, bending forward, heldhis head between his hands. "It oughtn't all to end here. I know you,and I know you want to do what's right. I couldn't kill you withoutkilling myself; you know that." He straightened up slowly. "Here!" Heslipped his revolver from his hip-holster and held the grip of the guntoward her. "Use it on me if you want to. It is your chance to endeverything; it may save several lives if you do. I won't leave McCloudhere to crow over me, and, by God, I won't leave you here forWhispering Smith! I'll settle with him anyhow. Take the pistol! Whatare you afraid of? Take it! Use it! I don't want to live without you.If you make me do it, you're to blame for the consequences."

  She stood with wide-open eyes, but uttered no word.

  "You won't touch it--then you care a little for me yet," he murmured.

  "No! Do not say so. But I will not do murder."

  "Think about the other, then. Go with me and everything will be allright. I will come back some evening soon for my answer. And untilthen, if those two men have any use for life, let them keep in theclear. I heard to-night that Du Sang is killed. Do you know whether itis true?"

  "It is true."

  An oath half escaping showed how the confirmation cut him. "AndWhispering Smith got away! It is Du Sang's own fault; I told him tokeep out of that trap. I stay in the open; and I'm not Du Sang. I'llchoose my own ground for the finish when they want it with me, andwhen I go I'll take company--I'll promise you that. Good-night,Marion. Will you shake hands?"

  "No."

  "Damn it, I like your grit, girl! Well, good-night, anyway."

  She closed the door. She had even strength enough to bolt it beforehis footsteps died away. She put out the light and felt her wayblindly back to the work-room. She staggered through it, clutching atthe curtains, and fell in the darkness into Dicksie's arms.

  "Marion dear, don't speak," Dicksie whispered. "I heard everything.Oh, Marion!" she cried, suddenly conscious of the inertness of theburden in her arms. "Oh, what shall I do?"

  Moved by fright to her utmost strength, Dicksie drew the unconsciouswoman back to her room and managed to lay her on the bed. Marionopened her eyes a few minutes later to see the lights burning, to hearthe telephone bell ringing, and to find Dicksie on the edge of the bedbeside her.

  "Oh, Marion, thank Heaven, you are reviving! I have been frightened todeath. Don't mind the telephone; it is Mr. McCloud. I didn't know whatto do, so I telephoned him."

  "But you had better answer him," said Marion faintly. The telephonebell was ringing wildly.

  "Oh, no! he can wait. How are you, dear? I don't wonder you werefrightened to death. Marion, he means to kill us--every one!"

  "No, Dicksie. He will kill me and kill himself; that is where it willend. Dicksie, do answer the telephone. What are you thinking of? Mr.McCloud will be at the door in five minutes. Do you want him in thestreet to-night?"

  Dicksie fled to the telephone, and an excited conference over the wireclosed in seeming reassurance at both ends. By that time Marion hadregained her steadiness, but she could not talk of what had passed. Attimes, as the two lay together in the darkness, Marion spoke, but itwas not to be answered. "I do not know," she murmured once wearily."Perhaps I am doing wrong; perhaps I ought to go with him. I wish, oh,I wish I knew what I ought to do!"