Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1909-08-18
CHAPTER VII.
Smoky Creek Bridge.

smoky CrGGk DTIuScs
It was not alone that defiance
makes a bad dinner sauce; there was
more than this for McCloud to feed
on. He was forced to confess to him
self as he walked back to the WickiUp
that the most annoying feature of The
incident was the least important,
namely, that his only enemy in the
country should be intrusted with COM
missions from the Stone ranch and be
carrying packages for Dicksie Dun
ming. 1t was Sinclair's trick to DO
things for people, and to make himself
SO useful that they must like first his
obligingness and afterward HIMSELF.
Sinclair, McCloUd knew, was close in
many ways to Lance Dunning. 1t was
said to have been his influence that
won Cummings consent to sell a right
of way across the ranch for the new
Crawling Stone line. But McCloud
felt it useless to disguise the fact to
himself that he now had a second
keen interest in the Crawling Stone
country-not alone a dream of line,
but dream of a Sirl. Sitting moodily
in his Office, with his feet on the desk,
& few nights afte- his encounter with
Sinclair, he recalled her nod as she
said good-by. 1t had seemed the least
bit encouraging, and he meditated
anew on the only 20 minutes of real
pleasurable excitement he had ever
felt in his life, the 20 minutes with
Dicksie Dunning at Smoky creek. Her
intimates, he had heard, called her
Dicksie, and he was vaguely envying
her intimates when the night dispatch
er, Rooney Lee, opened the door and
disturbed his reflections.
How is Number One, Rooney"
called McCloud, as if nothing but the
thought Of a train movement ever en-
tered his head.
Rooney Lee paused. In his hand he
held a message, and he faced McCloud
with evident uneasiness. Holy smoke,
Mr.. McCloud. here's ripper! We've
lost Smoky Greek bridge"
Lost Smoky Creek bridge?" echoed
McCloud rising in amazement.
Burned tonight. Seventy-seven
was tagged by the man at the pump
station"
That's a tie-up for your life!" ex-
claimed McCloud, reaching for the
message. How could it catch fire?
Is it burned up?"
81 can't get anything on that yet
this came from Candy. I'll have good
wire in a few minutes and get it all
for you"
Have Phil HALEY and Hyde mott
fed, Rooney, and Reed and Brill
Young, and get up a train. Smoky
Creek bridge! BY heavens, we are
ripped up the back now! What can
we do there, Rooney" He was talk
ing to himself. There isn't a thing
for it on Gods earth but switchbacks
and flve-per-cent grades down to the
bottom of the creek and cribbing
across it till the new line is ready.
Wire Callahan and Morris Blood, and
get everything you can for me before
we start"
Ten hours later and many hundreds
OF miles from the mountain division,
President Bucks and a companion
were riding in the peace Of a June
morning down the beautiful Mohawk
valley with an earlier and illustrious
railroad man, William G. Brown. The
three men were at breakfast in
Browns car. A message was brought
in for Bucks. He read it and passed
it to his companion, Whispering
Smith, who sat at Browns left hand.
The message was from Callahan with
the news of the burning ofSmoky Creek
bridge. Details were few, because no
one on the west end could suggest
plausible cause for the fire.
What do you think of it, Gordon?"
demanded Bucks, bluntly.
Whispering Smith seemed at all
times bordering on good-natured sur
prise, and in that normal condition he
read Callahan's message.
He was laughing under Bucks scru-
tiny ~hen he handed the message
back why, l DOM know a thing
about it, not a thing; but taking
long shot and speaking by and far,
I should say it looks something like
first blood for Sinclair" he suggested,
and to change the subject lifted his
cup of coffee.
Then it looks like you for the
mountains tonight instead of for
Weber and Fields" retorted Bucks,
reaching for a cigar. Brown, why
have you never learned to smoker"