It was called a depot merely through courtesy, consisting of a layerof cinders, scattered promiscuously so as to partially conceal theunderlying mud, and a dismantled box car, in which presided ticketagent and telegrapher. A hundred yards below was the big shack wherethe railroad officials lodged. Across the tracks blazed invitinglythe "First Chance" saloon. All intervening space was crowded with men,surging aimlessly about in the glare of a locomotive head light, andgreeting the alighting passengers with free and easy badinage. Strangeror acquaintance made no difference, the welcome to Sheridan was noisilyextended, while rough play and hoarse laughter characterized the mass.
Hope paused on the step, even as Dr. Fairbain grasped her hand, dinnedby the medley of discordant sounds, and confused by the vociferous jamof humanity. A band came tooting down the street in a hack, a fellow,with a voice like a fog horn, howling on the front seat. The fellowsat the side of the car surged aside to get a glimpse of this newattraction, and Fairbain, taking quick advantage of the opportunity thuspresented, swung his charge to the cinders below. Bending before her,and butting his great shoulders into the surging crowd, he succeeded inpushing a passage through, thus finally bringing her forth to the edgeof the street.
"Hey, there," he said shortly, grabbing a shirt-sleeved individual bythe arm. "Where's Charlie?"
The fellow looked at him wonderingly.
"Charlie? Oh, you mean the 'Kid'? Well, he ain't here ter-night; had aweddin', an' is totin' the bridal couple 'round."
Fairbain swore discreetly under his breath, and cast an uncertain glanceat the slender figure shrinking beside him. The streets of Sheridan werenot over pleasant at night.
"Only hack in town is somewhere else, Miss," he explained briefly. "Ireckon you and I will have to hoof it."
He felt the grip of her fingers on his sleeve.
"The boys are a little noisy, but it's just their way--don't meananything--you hang on to me, an' keep the veil down--we 'll be there inthe shake of a dog's tail."
He helped her over the muddy crossing, and as they reached a stretch ofboard walk, began expatiating on the various places lining the way.
"That's the 'Mammoth' over there,--dance hall back of it--biggest thingwest of the Missouri--three men killed there last week--what for? Oh,they got too fresh--that's the 'Casino,' and the one beyond is 'PonyJoe's Place'--cut his leg off since I've been here--fight over a girl.Ain't there any stores?--sure; they're farther back--you see the saloonsgot in first--that's 'Sheeny Mike's' gambling joint you're lookingat--like to go over and see 'em play? All right, just thought I'd askyou--it's early anyhow, and things wouldn't be goin' very lively yet.Say, there, you red head, what are you trying to do?"
The fellow had lurched out of the crowd in such a manner as to brushpartially aside the girl's veil, permitting the glare of "Sheeny Mike's"lights to fall full upon her revealed face. It was accomplished soopenly as to appear planned, but before he could reel away again,Fairbain struck out, and the man went down. With an oath he was on hisfeet, and Hope cowered back against her protector. Each man had weaponsdrawn, the crowd scurrying madly to keep out of the line of fire, when,with a stride, a new figure stepped quietly in between them. Straightas an arrow, broad shouldered, yet small waisted as a woman, his hairhanging low over his coat-collar, his face smooth shaven except for along moustache, and emotionless, the revolvers in his belt untouched,he simply looked at the two, and then struck the revolver out of thedrunken man's hand. It fell harmless to the ground.
"And don't you pick it up until I tell you, Scott," he said quietly. "Ifyou do you've got to fight me."
Without apparently giving the fellow another thought, he wheeled andfaced the others.
"Oh, it's you, is it, Doctor? The drunken fool won't make any moretrouble. Where were you taking the lady?"
"To the hotel, Bill."
"I'll walk along with you. I reckon the boys will give us plenty ofroom." He glanced over the crowd, and then more directly at Scott.
"Pick up your gun!" the brief words snapping out. "This is the secondtime I've caught you hunting trouble. The next time you are going tofind it. I saw you run into the lady--what did you do it for?"
"I only wanted to see who she was, Bill."
"You needn't call me Bill. I don't trot in your class. My name isHickock to you. Was it any of your affair who she was?"
"I reckoned I know'd her, and I did."
The marshal turned his eyes toward Hope, and then back upon Scott,evidently slightly interested.
"So? Recognized an old friend, I suppose?"
The slight sneer in "Wild Bill's" soft voice caused Scott to flame up insudden passion.
"No, I didn't! but I called the turn just the same--she's ChristieMaclaire."
The marshal smiled.
"All right, little boy," he said soberly. "Now you trot straight alongto bed. Don't let me catch you on the street again to-night, and I'dadvise you not to pull another gun--you're too slow on the triggerfor this town. Come along, Doctor, and we'll get Miss Maclaire to herhotel."
He shouldered his way through the collected crowd, the others following.Hope endeavored to speak, to explain to Fairbain who she actually was,realizing then, for the first time, that she had not previously givenhim her name. Amidst the incessant noise and confusion, the blaring ofbrass, and the jangle of voices, she found it impossible to make the mancomprehend. She pressed closer to him, holding more tightly to his arm,stunned and confused by the fierce uproar. The stranger steadily pushingahead of them, and opening a path for their passage, fascinated her,and her eyes watched him curiously. His name was an oddly familiar one,associated in vague memory with some of the most desperate deeds everwitnessed in the West, yet always found on the side of law and order;it was difficult to conceive that this quiet-spoken, mild-eyed, gentlysmiling man could indeed be the most famous gun fighter on the border,hated, feared, yet thoroughly respected, by every desperado betweenthe Platte and the Canadian. Beyond the glare and glitter of theMetropolitan Dance Hall the noisy crowd thinned away somewhat, and themarshal ventured to drop back beside Fairbain, yet vigilantly watchedevery approaching face.
"Town appears unusually lively to-night, Bill," observed the lattergravely, "and the boys have got an early start."
"West end graders just paid off," was the reply. "They have beenwhoopin' it up ever since noon, and are beginning to get ugly. Now therest of the outfit are showing up, and there will probably be somethinginteresting happening before morning. Wouldn't mind it so much if I hada single deputy worth his salt."
"What's the matter with Bain?"
"Nothing, while he was on the job, but 'Red' Haggerty got him in 'PonyJoe's' shebang two hours ago; shot him in the back across the bar. Nednever even pulled his gun."
"I'm sorry to hear that; what became of Haggerty?"
The marshal let his eyes rest questioningly on the doctor's face for aninstant.
"Well, I happened to be just behind Ned when he went in," he saidgently, "and 'Red' will be buried on 'Boots Hill' to-morrow. I'm afraidI don't give you much chance to show your skill, Doc," with a smile.
"If they all shot like you do, my profession would be useless. What'sthe matter with your other deputies?"
"Lack of nerve, principally, I reckon; ain't one of 'em worth the powderto blow him up. I'd give something just now for a fellow I had down atDodge--he was a man. Never had to tell him when to go in; good judgmenttoo; wasn't out hunting for trouble, but always ready enough to take hisshare. Old soldier in our army, Captain I heard, though he never talkedmuch about himself; maybe you knew him--Jack Keith."
"Well, I reckon," in quick surprise, "and what's more to the point, he'shere--slept in my room last night."
"Keith here? In Sheridan? And hasn't even hunted me up yet? That's likehim, all right, but I honestly want to see the boy. Here's your hotel.Shall you need me any longer?"
"Better step in with us, Bill," the doctor advised, "your moralinfluence might aid in procuring the lady a decent room.
"
"I reckon it might."
They passed together up the three rickety steps leading into the fronthall, which latter opened directly into the cramped office; to the leftwas the wide-open barroom, clamorous and throbbing with life. A narrowbench stood against the wall, with a couple of half drunken men loungingupon it. The marshal routed them out with a single, expressive gesture.
"Wait here with the lady, Fairbain," he said shortly, "and I'll arrangefor the room."
They watched him glance in at the bar, vigilant and cautious, and thenmove directly across to the desk.
"Tommy," he said genially to the clerk. "I've just escorted a lady herefrom the train--Miss Maclaire--and want you to give her the very bestroom in your old shebang."
The other looked at him doubtfully.
"Hell, Bill, I don't know how I'm goin' to do that," acknowledged. "Shewrote in here to the boss for a room; said she'd be along yesterday.Well, she didn't show up, an' so to-night we let a fellow have it. He'sup there now."
"Well, he'll have to vamose--who is he?"
"Englishman--'Walter Spotteswood Montgomery,'" consulting his book."Hell of a pompous duck; the boys call him 'Juke Montgomery.'"
"All right; send some one up to rout his lordship out lively."
Tommy shuffled his feet, and looked again at the marshal; he hadreceived positive orders about that room, and was fully convinced thatMontgomery would not take kindly to eviction. But Hickock's quiet grayeyes were insistent.
"Here, 'Red,'" he finally called to the burly porter, "hustle up to'15,' an' tell that fellow Montgomery he's got to get out; tell him wewant the room for a lady."
Hickock watched the man disappear up the stairs, helped himselfcarefully to a cigar out of the stand, tossing a coin to the clerk andthen deliberately lighting up.
"Think Montgomery will be pleased?" he asked shortly.
"No; he'll probably throw 'Red' down stairs."
The marshal smiled, his glance turning expectantly in that direction.
"Then perhaps I had better remain, Tommy." And he strolled nonchalantlyover to the open window, and stood there looking quietly out, a spiralof blue smoke rising from his cigar.
They could distinctly hear the pounding on the door above, andoccasionally the sound of the porter's voice, but the straight, erectfigure at the window remained motionless. Finally "Red" came down,nursing his knuckles.
"Says he'll be damned if he will--says he's gone to bed, an' that thereain't a cussed female in this blasted country he'd git up for," hereported circumstantially to the clerk. "He told me to tell you togo plumb to hell, an' that if any one else come poundin' 'round tharto-night, he'd take a pot shot at 'em through the door. 'Fifteen' seemeda bit peevish, sir, an' I reckoned if he was riled up much more, hemight git rambunctious; his language was sure fierce."
"Wild Bill" turned slowly around, still calmly smoking, his eyesexhibiting mild amusement.
"Did you clearly inform Mr.--ah--Montgomery that we desired the roomfor the use of a lady?" he questioned gently, apparently both pained andshocked.
"I did, sir."
"It surprises me to find one in our city with so little regard forthe ordinary courtesies of life, Tommy. Perhaps I can persuade thegentleman."
He disappeared up the stairs, taking them deliberately step by step, thecigar still smoking between his lips. "Red" called after him.
"Keep away from in front of the door, Bill; he'll shoot sure, for hecocked his gun when I was up there."
Hickock glanced back, and waved his hand.
"Don't worry--the room occupied by Mr.--ah--Montgomery was '15,' Ibelieve you said?"
Whatever occurred above, it was over with very shortly. Those listeningat the foot of the stairs heard the first gentle rap on the door, anoutburst of profanity, followed almost instantly by a sharp snap, asif a lock had given way, then brief scuffling mingled with the loudcreaking of a bed. Scarcely a minute later the marshal appeared onthe landing above, one hand firmly gripped in the neck-band of anundershirt, thus securely holding the writhing, helpless figure of aman, who swore violently every time he could catch his breath.
"Any other room you could conveniently assign Mr.--ah--Montgomery to,Tommy?" he asked pleasantly. "If he doesn't like it in the morning, hecould be changed, you know."
"Give--give him '47.'"
"All right. I'm the bell-boy temporarily, Montgomery; easy now, myman, easy, or I'll be compelled to use both hands. 'Red,' carry thegentleman's luggage to '47'--he has kindly consented to give up his oldroom to a lady--come along, Montgomery."
It was possibly five minutes later when he came down, still smoking, hisface not even flushed.
"Montgomery is feeling so badly we were obliged to lock him in," hereported to the clerk. "Seems to be of a somewhat nervous disposition.Well, good-night, Doctor," he lifted his hat. "And to you, Miss,pleasant dreams."
Hope watched him as he stepped outside, pausing a moment in the shadowsto glance keenly up and down the long street before venturing downthe steps. This quiet man had enemies, hundreds of them, desperate andreckless; ceaseless vigilance alone protected him. Yet her eyes only,and not her thoughts, were riveted on the disappearing marshal. Sheturned to Fairbain, who had risen to his feet.
"I wish I might see him, also," she said, as though continuing aninterrupted conversation.
"See him? Who?"
"Mr. Keith. I--I knew him once, and--and, Doctor, won't you tell him Ishould like to have him come and see me just--just as soon as he can."
Chapter XXII. An Interrupted Interview
Keith of the Border: A Tale of the Plains Page 21