"I may need a little help, Gene, to get him out of town," remarked Smith, after he had told his story; "that is, if there are too many Cache men there for me." Bob Johnson was stripping a stalk of alfalfa in his fingers. "Them fellows are pretty sore." "That comes of half doing a job, Bob. I was in too much of a hurry with the round-up. They haven't had dose enough yet," returned Whispering Smith. "If you and Gene will join me sometime when I have a week to spare, we will go in there, clean up the gang and burn the hair off the roots of the chapparal--what? I've hinted to Rebstock he could get ready for something like that." "Tell us about that fight, Gordon." "I will if you will give me something to eat and have this horse taken care of. Then, Bob, I want you to ride into Oroville and reconnoitre. This is mail day and I understand some of the boys are buying postage stamps to put on my coffin." They went to the house, where Whispering Smith talked as he ate. Bob took a horse and rode away, and Gene, with his guest, went back to the alfalfa, where Smith took Bob's place on the mower. When they saw Bob riding up the valley, Whispering Smith, bringing in the machine, mounted his horse. "Your man is there all right," said Bob, as he approached. "He and John Rebstock were in the Blackbird saloon. Seagrue isn't there, but Barney Rebstock and a lot of others are. I talked a few minutes with John and Murray. Sinclair didn't say much; only that the railroad gang was trying to run him out of the country, and he wanted to meet a few of them before he went. I just imagined he held up a little before me; maybe not. There's a dozen Williams Cache men in town." "But those fellows are not really dangerous, Bob, though they may be troublesome," observed Smith reflectively. "Well, what's your plan?" blurted Gene Johnson. "I haven't any, Gene," returned Smith, with perfect simplicity. "My only plan is to ride into town and serve my papers, if I can. I've got a deputyship--and that I'm going to do right away. If you, Bob, or both of you, will happen in about thirty minutes later you'll get the news and perhaps see the fun. Much obliged for your feed, Gene; come down to Medicine Bend any time and I'll fill you up. I want you both for the elk hunt next fall, remember that. Bucks is coming, and is going to bring Brown and Henson and perhaps Atterbury and Gibbs and some New Yorkers; and McCloud's brother, the preacher, is coming out and they are all right--all of them." The only street in Oroville faces the river, and the buildings string for two or three blocks along modest bluffs. Not a soul was anywhere in sight when Whispering Smith rode into town, save that across the street from where he dismounted and tied his horse three men stood in front of the Blackbird.