If he did, bring
him and Benson up here and we'll hold a council of war. If you see
Dawson, send him home to his mother and sister. He can report to me
later, if he finds it safe to leave his womankind."
The door of the outer office had barely closed behind McCloskey when
that opening into the corridor swung upon its hinges to admit the
master-mechanic. He was dusty and travel-stained, but nothing seemed to
stale his genial good-humor.
"Well, well, Mr. Lidgerwood! so the hoboes have asked to see your hand,
at last, have they?" he began sympathetically. "I heard of it over in
Copah, just in good time to let me catch 203. You're not going to let
them make you show down, are you?"
"No," said Lidgerwood.
"That's right; that's precisely the way to stack it up. Of course, you
know you can count on me. I've got a beautiful lot of pirates over in
the shops, but we'll try to hold them level." Then, in the same even
tone: "They tell me we went into the hole again last night, over at
Little Butte. Pretty bad?"
"Very bad; six killed outright, and as many more to bury later on, I am
told by the Red Butte doctors.
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