The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1909-07-23


within a few years to be scattered far
and wide as constructionists with
records made in the rebuilding opera
lions through the Rocky mountains,
none was less likely to attract atten-
ton than McCloud. Bucks, who, in
deed could hardly be reckoned so
much of the company as its head, was
a man of commanding proportions
physically. Like Glover, Bucks was a
giant In stature, and the two men,
when together, could nowhere escape
notice; they looked, in a word, their
part, fitted to cope with the ire
mendous undertakings that had fallen
to their lot Callahan, the chess-play-
er on the Overland lines, the man who
could hold large combinations OF traf-
fic movement constantly in his head
and by intuition reach the result of a
given problem before other men could
work it out, was, like Morris Blood,
the master of tonnage, of middle age.
But McCloud, when he went to the
mountain division, in youthfuness OF
features was boyish, and when he left
he was still boy, bronzed, but young
of face in spite of lifetime's pressure
and worry crowded into three years.
He himself counted this physical
makeup as a disadvantage. 1t has
embroiled me in no end of trouble, be-
cause | couldn't convince men | was
in earnest until | made good in some
hard way" he complained once to
Whispering Smith. Il never could ac-
quire even a successful habit of swear
ing, so | had to learn to fight"
When, one day in Boney street in
Medicine Bend, he threw open the
door of Marion Sinclairs shop, flung
his hat sailing along the show case
with his war cry, and called to her in
the back rooms, she thought he had
merely run in to say he was in town.
How do you do? What do you
think? You're going to have an old
boarder back" he cried. I'm coming
to Medicine Bend, superintendent of
the division!"
"Mr. McCloud!" Marion Sinclair
clasped her hands and dropped into a
chair. Have they made you superin-
tendent already"
Well | like that! Do you want
them to wait till I'm gray-headed?'
Marion threw her hands to her own
head ooh, don't say anything about
gray hairs. My head won't bear in
spection. But | can't get over this
promotion coming so soon-this whole
| Ill I r1otn
very sincerely
ooh, but that isn't it! l suppose
anybody will congratulate me. But
where am | to board? Have you a
cook? You know how | went from bad
to worse after you left Cold Springs.
May | have my meals here with you
as | used to there?"
They laughed as they bantered.
Marion Sinclair wore gold spectacles,
but they did not hide the delightful
good-nature in her eyes. On the third
finger of her slender left hand she
wore, too, gold band that explained
the gray in her hair at 26.
This was the wife of Murray Sin
clair, whom he had brought to the
mountains from her far-away Wiscon-
sin home. Within a year he had
broken her heart so far as it lay in
him to do it, but he could not break
her charm nor her spirit, She was too
proud to go back, when forced to
leave him, and had set about earning
her own living in the country to which
she had come as a bride. She put on
spectacles, she mutilated her heavy
brown hair and to escape notice and
secure the obscurity that she craved,
her name, Marion, became, over the
door of her millinery shop and in her
business, only IN. Sinclair"
Cold Springs, where Sinclair had
first brought her when he had head
quarters there as foreman of bridges,
had proved a hopeless place for the
millinery business-at least, in the
way that Marion ran 1t. She could,
however, cook extraordinarily well,
and, with the aid of a servant-maid.
could always provide for boarder or
two-perhaps railroad man or a
mine superintendent to whom she
could serve meals, ana VINO, ike all
mountain men, were more than gener-
GUS in their accounting with women.
Among these standbys of hers was
McCloud. McCloud had always been
her friend, and when she left Cold
Springs and moved to Medicine Bend
to set up her little shop in Boney
street near Fort, she had lost him.
Yet, somehow, to compensate Marion
for other cruel things in the noun
tains, Providence seemed to raise up a
new friend for her wherever she went.
In Medicine Bend she did not know
soul, but almost the first customer
that walked into her shop-and she
was a customer worth while-was
Dicksie Dunning of the Crawling
Stone.
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