Wickwire
am riding north to-night—I wish you were going part way.”
Dicksie looked at him intently. “You are worried over something,” she murmured; “I can see it in your face.”
“Nothing more than usual. I thrive, you know, on trouble—and I’m sorry to say good-night so early, but I have a long ride ahead.” He stepped quietly past McCloud and out of the door.
Wickwire was thanking Dicksie when unwillingly she let Whispering Smith’s hand slip out of her own. “I shore wouldn’t have been here to-night if you two hadn’t picked me up,” laughed Wickwire, speaking softly to Dicksie when she turned to him. “I’ve knowed my friends a long time, but I reckon they all didn’t know me.”
“I’ve known you longer than you think,” returned Dicksie with a smile. “I’ve seen you at the ranch-house. But now that we really do know each other, please remember you are always sure of a home at the ranch—whenever you want one, Mr. Wickwire, and just as long as you want one. We never forget our friends on the Crawling Stone.”
“If I may make so bold, I thank you kindly. And if you all will let me run away now, I want to catch Mr. Whispering Smith for just one minute.”
349
