05 Ironhorse (21 page)

“Unless you’re a mule,” I said.

73

VIRGIL TURNED FROM
the map and looked at me. He nodded slowly and turned his attention back to the map. He looked closely at the X’s marking the mines.

“Mr. Hobbs?” Virgil said.

“Marshal,” Hobbs said.

“You said you and Lassiter had contacts, relationships, up here in the territories, right?”

Virgil turned from the map and faced Hobbs.

“Yes,” Hobbs said. “That is correct.”

“What kind of counsel?”

“We were agents,” Hobbs said.

“What kind of agents?”

“Cattle operations, mostly, leasing.”

“Leasing?”

“Yes, when the eastern beef prices and demand soared, the cattle drives north out of Texas required sustenance leasing for Chisholm, Goodnight-Loving, the Great Western Trail, and the like.”

“Those trails run through the western part of the territories,” I said. “Cheyenne, Arapaho reservations.”

“That’s right,” Hobbs said, “and the Cherokee outlet to the north.”

“What about mining?” Virgil said. “Were you agents to mining operations, too?”

“I didn’t, no.”

“Lassiter?”

“Lassiter I believe did handle leasing for mining, yes.”

“You believe?”

Hobbs looked at the governor.

“Yes,” Hobbs said.

“Do you know where?” Virgil said.

“That I don’t know,” Hobbs said. “Could be the part you’re looking at there on the map for all I know. I believe the mining is in the eastern part of the territories.”

Hobbs looked to Berkeley.

“I don’t know all that happens border to border, but I’m pretty sure that is right,” Berkeley said.

“You know of any particular outfit Lassiter was counsel, agent with?” Virgil said.

“No,” Hobbs said. “I suppose there could be some way to find out. There must be records of such dealings, something that could show us the history.”

Virgil shook his head and looked back to the map.

“No time for that,” I said.

“I take it, Marshal,” the governor said, “you think it probable they, whomever we are dealing with, are operating from one of these mining locations?”

“Everett?” Virgil said.

“Given the circumstances,” I said, “I’d say more than probable.”

74

VIRGIL MOVED TO
the window, and looked north up the track.

“Where would we find one of these telegraph lineman or superintendents?” Virgil said.

“The superintendents are never,” Sam said, “or hardly ever, through here. They operate out of the north and south terminals.”

“The lineman are stationed on each end, too,” Jenny said.

“There are two of ’em,” Sam said. “LeFlore brothers. They pretty much live on the line, all up and down it.”

“LeFlore? They Choctaw?” I asked.

“They are,” Jenny said. “I, I grew up with them.”

“They wouldn’t happen to be here now, would they?” Virgil asked. “In Half Moon Junction?”

“Nope,” Sam said, looking at Jenny. “We don’t know where they are.”

“Jimmy John works out of Division City and his brother Buck’s out of Paris, but like Sam said they live on the line,” Jenny said.

“Know ’em, Berkeley?” Virgil said. “These LeFlores?”

“Can’t say I do, no.”

Virgil looked back to the map.

“Do you know if there is still a telegraph line through to the mines?” Virgil asked.

“Got no idea,” Sam said.

“I can try and contact Jimmy John,” Jenny said. “See if he responds.”

“No, please,” the governor said. “Those kind of notions are too risky.”

“Sure,” Jenny said. “I understand, sir.”

Virgil stood looking at the map for a moment before he looked to Jenny.

“Jenny, Sam said you know Choctaw,” Virgil said. “That right?”

“She sure does,” Sam said. “Like I tol’ ya.”

Virgil motioned to the key sitting in front of Jenny.

“You wire in Choctaw?” Virgil said.

“I can.”

“Do the other operators?”

Jenny shook her head.

“No, not anymore. Other operators can code out Choctaw, and on occasion they do, but they are just relaying letters in the notes; they don’t actually know the language. I do. My daddy was half Choctaw. He taught the language to me. I grew up with it.”

“The linemen use it at all? The LeFlores, do they communicate with it? Do you communicate with it?”

“When they have something to say between them they don’t want anyone else to know, they do,” Sam said, looking at Jenny.

“Like I said, none of the other operators know Choctaw; the superintendents don’t know it. Just me and Buck and Jimmy John. Every so often Choctaws wishing to communicate by wire use it, but that’s all.”

“For the most part, Choctaws don’t mess with the wire,” Sam said. “Choctaw are a superstitious lot. Leave voice on the wire to nowhere bad, they say.”

Jenny offered a wry turn of her lips. “That’s right.”

“Regardless, whatever it is you are thinking, Marshal,” the governor said, “we don’t have time to waste. Please prepare. Let’s do this, pay attention to these demands to the letter.”

“We will do,” Virgil said. “First, tell me something you and your daughters share, like a secret or some such?”

“What?” the governor said. “I don’t understand.”

“I want to make sure we hear from them,” Virgil said. “I want to know of their safety before we do anything. What’s their favorite something or other, song, time of year, color? Something we can wire for them to answer.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Hobbs said.

The governor looked out the window, thinking.

75

RICHARD III WROTE
back and straightaway confirmed two important facts. The first being that plum pudding was sure enough the answer to the governor’s inquiry, and the second was that the telegraph signal was still most certainly weak. The governor sat in the chair next to the desk. He pinched at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“I suppose this provides us the necessary conclusion for you to get under way, Marshal?”

“Does,” Virgil said.

Virgil turned, looking out the window north up the rail.

“What about that?” Virgil said.

He looked back to me as he pointed up the track.

In the far distance at the top of the incline north of town, we could see the smoke from the Ironhorse as it came over the rise and started down the grade toward the depot.

I knew what Virgil was thinking.

“That Yard Goat got tender enough to travel between the water stations, Sam?” I said.

“Sure,” Sam said. “Well, of course, it depends.”

“On what?” Virgil asked.

“The load it’s pulling,” Sam said. “On its own, no problem, though. Won’t do too much too long; it’s only got a sloped back twenty-five-hundred-gallon tender.”

“Meaning?” Virgil said.

“Regular tenders for main engines are thirty-five hundred gallons; some are even bigger,” Sam said.

“So more than likely it would?” Virgil said. “Long as it’s not too heavy?”

“That’s right, long as it’s not too heavy.”

Virgil looked out the window behind us and pointed to the stock car sitting in the switchyard near the water tower.

“Let’s say the Ironhorse pulls that stock car there with some horses,” Virgil said.

“Don’t see why not,” Sam said. “It’s got smaller drive wheels, ya know, so you ain’t gonna go fast like a regular running engine, but it will sure enough move.”

“Faster than a horse, though,” Virgil said.

“Covering distance,” Sam said. “You bet, faster than a horse.”

Virgil turned back looking north, watching the Ironhorse getting closer.

“Not gonna snug that mule to a redbud tree tomorrow early, Everett,” Virgil said.

“No,” I said, “they won’t.”

“They’ll do that late afternoon.”

“What are you thinking,” the governor said, “in regard to the locomotive?”

“We try and contact the lineman, LeFlore, to show us the line’s in, figure what is active and what is not active. We go up tonight in the Ironhorse. They won’t be expecting us to be getting up there in that short amount of time. We find out where they are hiding out, surprise them.”

“No,” the governor said. “I want the money delivered, and I want my daughters to be returned to me. I’m sure you can understand my concern, Marshal?”

“Understand your concern completely, but there is no guarantee, money or no money, he will honor this arrangement.”

“Agreed,” Hobbs said. “This man is mad. A goddamn mule? I tell you, simply mad. And there is absolutely no knowing what he might be capable of.”

The governor stared at Virgil with a contemplative expression and started pacing again. His hands were behind his back this time, like an officer’s. He made three turns across the floor of the telegraph office before he spoke up.

“What would be your move, your strategy, in this scenario?” the governor said.

“Just what I said, get to the lineman LeFlore. He will know what lines are active and what lines are not.”

76

THE GOVERNOR WORKED
his way back and forth in the office some more. He was looking down at the floor, thinking as he paced.

“What if you don’t find them?” the governor said.

“Don’t find ’em,” Virgil said, “we come back before nightfall and load the mule.”

Virgil looked at me.

“Worth a try,” I said.

The governor paced a few more times before he stopped and looked to Virgil.

“Okay,” he said.

“We don’t find them,” Virgil said, “we pack the mule, send it on its way.”

“Without question you do,” the governor said. “I do not want to be reeling from tragedy for monetary concerns. I care not about the money, Marshal, make no mistake about that, not one iota. If my daughters’ lives were not in danger it would of course be a different situation, but frankly it is not a different situation.”

“Understood,” Virgil said. “Jenny, these LeFlore brothers, they got no beef, no odds with each other? They get along with each other all right?”

Jenny nodded.

“I’ve known them my whole life; they’re close. Jimmy John is a bit of a renegade, but they both are hard workers and do their job.”

“Good,” Virgil said. “I want to craft a note. Contact Buck LeFlore to the south. You said he was in the Paris office, right?”

“He works out of the Paris office. He’s there sometimes. I can try to reach him.”

“Good,” Virgil said. “Try to wire Buck in the Paris office. Have him contact his brother north in Division City. We will let the communication be between them, all in Choctaw. That way there is no connection to this office and the LeFlore north, in Division City.”

“Splendid idea,” Hobbs said.

“Okay,” Jenny said.

“Good,” Virgil said.

The governor nodded, looking at Virgil with some resolve.

“Sam?” Virgil said.

He pointed to the mines on the map.

“Can the Ironhorse get us up to here by morning?”

“Before then, if we get you going.”

“Good,” Virgil said. “Gives us time to locate them. If we don’t get to LeFlore for some reason, we’ll look on our own. We don’t find them by mid-afternoon, we come back to the switch location and load the mule. Everett?”

“Sounds right,” I said. “That Ironhorse in good working order, Sam?”

“It is,” Sam said.

“What do we need to do to get going?” Virgil said.

Sam pointed up the track.

“Soon as Uncle Ted gets back from removing the last foul car,” Sam said, “just need to load the tender and get the stock car hooked up.”

“That it?” Virgil said.

“Is,” Sam said. “But we don’t have a regular fireman. Charlie and me help out Uncle Ted here in the yard. You’ll just need somebody to shovel coal on the trip is all. I suppose, push comes to shove, I can do the shovelin’ for you.”

As Uncle Ted and the Ironhorse got close to the Half Moon Junction depot, the engine blasted one long whistle. Smoke was billowing from its stack as it thumped back down the track pulling the coach Virgil and I had abandoned on the rise north of town.

The coach was the last foul car to be removed from the track. The next abandoned car north, with Whip, the undertaker, the grieving widow, the Apache woman, and the others, had been removed by the Standley Station section gang. The engine and first coach was in the process of being towed off by the Crystal Creek section gang, leaving the track open for travel.

The windows of the telegraph office rattled again as Uncle Ted, with his hairy arm hanging out the window of the Ironhorse, throttled the engine off the main track and rumbled to a stop in the switchyard behind the water tower.

“God help us,” the governor said.

77

A HALF-HOUR PASSED
and there had been no response from Buck LeFlore. Jenny did receive a wire notifying us the Southbound Express was up and running again and on the move down the track en route to Paris. Sam told us she would have a better idea of where we would pass the Southbound Express once we were ready to leave, but she thought we would most likely have to use a pass track midway between Half Moon Junction and Standley Station somewhere around five and six o’clock.

In short order, Uncle Ted and Sam got the Ironhorse tender filled up with coal from the coal tower, Virgil retrieved the money from the crates in the freight car and transferred the loot to the stock coach, and I fetched the four horses from the jail.

It was half past noon when I walked the horses down to where Virgil was now standing with the governor and Hobbs in the switchyard with Sam and little Charlie. They were watching Uncle Ted maneuvering the Ironhorse.

Uncle Ted pulled the whistle cord, and three short loud blasts spooked the horses as the Ironhorse backed toward the stock coach.

I turned the horses away from the engine noise, circling them, getting their feet back solid under them, when I saw Berkeley walking toward me carrying a large carpet bag and wearing denim trousers and a barn coat.