The Denver Express | Page 4

think
there's some cussed jealousy on another lay as comes in. Yer see the
young feller--Cyrus Foster's his name--is sweet on thet gal of Jeff
Johnson's. Jeff was to Laramie before he come here, an' Foster knowed
Sally up thar. I allow he moved here to see her. Hello! Ef thar they ain't
a-coming now."
Down a path leading from the town past the railroad buildings, and
well on the prairie, Sinclair saw the girl walking with the "young
feller." He was talking earnestly to her and her eyes were cast down.
She looked pretty and, in a way, graceful; and there was in her attire a
noticeable attempt at neatness, and a faint reminiscence of bygone
fashions. A smile came to Sinclair's lips as he thought of a couple
walking up Fifth Avenue during his leave of absence not many months
before, and of a letter many times read, lying at that moment in his
breast-pocket.
"Papa's bark is worse than his bite," ran one of its sentences. "Of course
he does not like the idea of my leaving him and going away to such
dreadful and remote places as Denver and Omaha and I don't know
what else; but he will not oppose me in the end, and when you come on
again--"
"By thunder!" exclaimed Sam; "ef thar ain't one of them cussed sharps
a-watchin' 'em."
Sure enough a rough-looking fellow, his hat pulled over his eyes, half

concealed behind a pile of lumber, was casting a sinister glance toward
the pair.
"The gal's well enough," continued Sam; "but I don't take a cent's wuth
of stock in thet thar father of her'n. He's in with them sharps, sure pop,
an' it don't suit his book to hev Foster hangin' round. It's ten to one he
sent that cuss to watch 'em, Wa'al, they're a queer lot, an' I'm afeared
thar's plenty of trouble ahead among 'em. Good luck to you, Major,"
and, he pushed back his chair and walked away.
After breakfast next morning, when Sinclair was sitting at the table in
his office, busy with maps and plans, the door was thrown open, and
Foster, panting for breath, ran in.
"Major Sinclair," he said, speaking with difficulty, "I've no claim on
you, but I ask you to protect me. The other gamblers are going to hang
me. They are more than ten to one. They will track me here; unless you
harbor me, I'm a dead man."
Sinclair rose from his chair in a second and walked to the window. A
party of men were approaching the building. He turned to Foster:
"I do not like your trade," said he; "but I will not see you murdered if I
can help it. You are welcome here." Foster said "Thank you," stood still
a moment, and then began to pace the room, rapidly clinching his hands,
his whole frame quivering, his eyes flashing fire--"for all the world,"
Sinclair said, in telling the story afterward, "like a fierce caged tiger."
"My God!" he muttered, with concentrated intensity, "to be trapped,
trapped like this!"
Sinclair stepped quickly to the door of his bedroom and motioned
Foster to enter. Then there came a knock at the outer door, and he
opened it and stood on the threshold erect and firm. Half a dozen
"toughs" faced him.
"Major," said their spokesman, "we want that man.

"You can not have him, boys."
"Major, we're a-goin' to take him."
"You had better not try," said Sinclair, with perfect ease and
self-possession, and in a pleasant voice. "I have given him shelter, and
you can only get him over my dead body. Of course you can kill me,
but you won't do even that without one or two of you going down; and
then you know perfectly well, boys, what will happen. You know that if
you lay your finger on a railroad man it's all up with you. There are five
hundred men in the tie-camp, not five miles away, and you don't need
to be told that in less than one hour after they get word there won't be a
piece of one of you big enough to bury."
The men made no reply. They looked him straight in the eyes for a
moment. Had they seen a sign of flinching they might have risked the
issue, but there was none. With muttered curses, they slunk away.
Sinclair shut and bolted the door, then opened the one leading to the
bedroom.
"Foster," he said, "the train will pass here in half an hour. Have you
money enough?"
"Plenty, Major."
"Very well; keep perfectly quiet and I will try to get you safely off." He
went to an adjoining room and called Sam, the contractor's man. He
took in the situation at a glance.