When Pa walked in a few minutes later, he was calm and quiet. He sat down, rested his chin between his hands, and let out a big sigh. Anger had obviously given way to defeat and frustration.
“We gotta quit, Almeda,” he said at length. His voice was soft and discouraged. “I wish I’d never got you into this.”
“You didn’t get me into a thing, Drummond. I made the decision to run for mayor on my own. I brought this trouble on the rest of you.”
“Well I sure didn’t make it no better, flying off against Royce like I done. Though the rascal deserved it!”
“Now we’ve got to decide what’s to be done. With Franklin threatening two claims, ours and Shaws’, there’s no telling where it’ll end. Not to mention the business in town.”
“We gotta give in,” said Pa, in as depressed a voice as I’d ever heard from him. “He’s got us licked. If we let him have the election, maybe he’ll lay off from all this other harm he’s trying to bring us.”
Chapter 13
Fighting Fire with Fire
I don’t know if all marriages work this way, but I’d noticed that Pa and Almeda were both quicker to defend each other than they were themselves. When Franklin Royce started spreading gossip about Almeda around town, Pa got so filled with anger that he went right into Royce’s office and knocked the banker down and bloodied his nose. Pa knew it was his duty to defend Almeda’s honor, not hers.
And in the same way, Almeda would fight for Pa. When folks were talking about her, Almeda couldn’t help the discouragement it caused. But now that Mr. Royce was threatening Pa and was threatening to take away all Pa had worked for and held dear, it was her turn to get fighting mad, like a mother bear protecting her family. The banker could threaten her reputation and her business all he wanted, but once he dared threaten the husband she loved—look out! She wasn’t about to take that lying down!
“He’s not going to lay off, Drummond,” she said to Pa’s last statement after a few moments thought. “There are times when to lay down your arms and surrender is the best course of action. Jesus said we must deny ourselves, and do it every day. But there are also times when wrong must be fought with aggressiveness. Jesus did that too. He laid down his life without a word of self-defense, but he also drove the moneychangers out with a whip and strong words. How to know when to do which is the challenge for a Christian. And I can’t help thinking that this is a time for the whip and strong words.”
“We’ve already tried it,” said Pa, “you with your handbills and your speech, and me with my ranting and raving like an idiot in Royce’s bank. All we’ve done is made him madder and made it worse for everyone around here.”
“The Lord will show us what to do. The children and I were just praying while you were outside. We asked him to make it plain what we’re to do and to give us the courage to—”
She stopped and her face got serious a moment, then lit up.
“You know, I just had a thought,” she said. “A wild, crazy, impossible idea!” She pressed her hands against her forehead and thought hard again. “It’s too unbelievable an idea ever to work, but . . . if God is behind it . . . you just never know what can happen!”
“What in tarnation is it?” exclaimed Pa. “Your face looks like you swallowed a lantern. It must be some notion that’s rattling through that brain of yours!”
She laughed. “It is, believe me. It just might be the highest-stakes poker game you ever played, Drummond Hollister, with the mines and homes of every man in Miracle Springs in the middle of the table—winner take all. And if Franklin Royce doesn’t blink first and back down, and if he decides to call our bluff, then it just might cost more people than the Shaws their places.”
“Sounds like a mighty dangerous game.”
“I’m afraid it is. That’s why we have to pray hard for God to show us if this is his idea, or just something my own mind cooked up.”
“Then let’s pray that right now,” said Pa, “before it goes any further.” He got down on his knees. “Come on, kids,” he said to all the rest of us. “We got some serious praying to do, and it’s gonna take all seven of us. We’ve gotta do what the Book says and ask the Lord above for wisdom, cause if we do wrong a lot of folks are gonna be hurt. We gotta be sure we’re doing what the Lord wants.”
We obeyed, and Pa started to pray. We’d all heard him pray before, but somehow this time there was a new power in his voice that seemed to come from deep down in his heart. When we all got up a few minutes later, I think every one in the room had the sense that God had spoken both to Pa, and maybe through him to the rest of us. I know what I felt inside, and judging from the looks on Pa’s and Almeda’s faces I think they too thought the answer was to go ahead.
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, woman,” said Pa with a smile. “What’s this dangerous new plan you’re thinking of?”
“Before we could even know if it had a chance to succeed,” she said, “it would take a trip to Sacramento. And with the election coming up so fast, there might not be time. But here’s what I’m thinking.”
She paused and took a breath.
“Back when we started, and Franklin was doing everything he could to threaten us, he made a comment that I haven’t forgotten. He said, ‘Two can play this game as well as one.’ He was, of course, referring to my flyer and Corrie’s interviewing and what he considered our going on the attack against him. But the moment we started praying about what to do his words came back to me, and I suddenly found myself wondering what is to prevent us from applying the same principle. If he’s going to try to undercut us by taking away business from Parrish Mine and Freight, and if he’s going to start hurting our friends and neighbors by calling up their loans, then why don’t we use the exact same tactic, but in the opposite way? We will take business from him, and will try to help people at exactly the point where he’s trying to hurt them and pressure them into supporting him!”
“Fight fire with fire, eh?” said Pa grinning.
“Exactly! There are times to back down and admit defeat. But I don’t think this is one of them. Not yet at least.”
“But you shouldn’t travel, not in your condition,” said Pa. “Whatever’s to be done in Sacramento, I can do.”
“No, I have to be the one to go,” insisted Almeda. “I’ll need to see my friend Carl Denver and get his advice. I don’t know whether there’s anything his company can do, but he might know someone else in the city who can help.”
“I’ll at least go with you, to make sure you’re all right.”
“I’ll be fine. Besides, you ought to stay here,” said Almeda, pointing to the letter that still lay on the table where she had laid it.
The look on Pa’s face said he wasn’t convinced.
“I’ll be fine,” she repeated. “I’m a strong woman. Corrie,” she said turning to me, “can you handle things at the office?”
I nodded.
“You shouldn’t go alone. That I won’t let you do,” said Pa. “Zack,” he said, turning his head, “you want to ride to Sacramento with your stepmother, keep her company and protect her at the same time?”
“You bet, Pa!” Zack replied brightly.
“I’m going to let you take my rifle,” Pa added. “But unless there’s trouble, you keep it packed in the saddle case. No foolin’ around with it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary, Drummond?” asked Almeda.
“Maybe not. But I don’t want to take no chances with the two of you out there alone. I don’t trust Royce. It ain’t been that many years ago he was hiring no-goods like Buck Krebbs to sneak around and set fire to houses. I’d feel safer if I knew Zack had the gun.”
“Can I go too, Pa?” asked Tad.
“You couldn’t keep up, you pipsqueak!” laughed Zack.
“I could so!” insisted Tad. “I can ride just as fast as you or Little Wolf!”
“That’ll be the day! I could ride from here to Little Wolf’
s and back twice before you’d have your horse out of the barn.”
“That ain’t so! Why I could—”
“Hey, the two of you—cut it out!” interrupted Pa. “Time’s a wastin’, you gotta hit the road. Tad,” he said, “I gotta have you here with me. If Zack’s gonna be protecting your Ma, then I’ll need your help here watching over the claim. You’ll be my number one man, and I can’t have the both of you gone.”
Almeda rose, Zack ran outside to the barn, and the rest of us did what we could to help them get ready. In less than an hour we were watching the dust settle from Almeda’s buggy and Zack’s horse after they’d rounded the bend in the road and disappeared from sight.
Chapter 14
Patrick Shaw’s Solution
Those next days waiting for Zack and Almeda to get back were dreadful, wondering all the time what was going to come of it.
How wonderful it would be if there was a railroad to Sacramento! They were laying down track for new train lines between the big cities, and the talk of a train connecting the two oceans was enough to make your head swim. I could hardly imagine it! Wagon trains took months to cross the country. Overland stagecoaches, along the southern route where there wasn’t as much snow, usually took between thirty and forty days. And stories were told of madcap horsemen who rode their horses to their deaths to make it from St. Louis to San Francisco in fifteen to twenty days. I’d thought about trying to find such a man to interview for an article sometime, to find out if the stories were true about dashing across the plains at a hundred miles a day. But I could barely imagine going across the country in a comfortable train car in only eight or ten days.
Well, they didn’t have a train to ride on. But they had good horses, and Zack and Almeda returned faster than Pa had expected. They left on Saturday, and about midday of the following Wednesday Zack and Almeda rode in.
It was obvious from the lather on the horses that they’d been riding hard. Their clothes and faces were covered with dust, and they both looked exhausted. But the instant Almeda saw Pa, she flashed a big smile.
“I got it!” she said excitedly, patting the saddlebags next to her on the buggy seat. “Go get Pat and we’ll tell him the news!”
Pa helped her down from the buggy, then gave her a big hug and kiss. “You’re a mess, woman!” he laughed, standing back to look over her dirty face.
“Don’t push your luck, Drummond Hollister,” she replied. “You know how a woman can get riled when she’s tired!”
“Well, you heard your ma,” said Pa, turning around to the rest of us. “Who wants to ride over the hill and fetch Mr. Shaw here?”
“I will, Pa,” I said. “Come on, Tad. Wanna go with me?”
But he was already scampering toward the barn to start saddling his pony. One thing about Tad—he never had to be asked twice!
We took the quickest way to Shaws, the back trail around the mountain. All the way back Mr. Shaw kept quizzing us about what was up, and I said I didn’t know all the details, which I didn’t, but that Pa and Almeda had some exciting news for him and they’d tell him everything as soon as we got back to our place.
By the time we arrived back at the house, Almeda had gotten herself cleaned up and had changed clothes. Her eyes looked tired, but the smile still shone from her face.
“Come in . . . come in, Pat,” said Pa, shaking Mr. Shaw’s hand. “Sit down. Want a cup of coffee?”
“Yeah, thanks, Drum,” he replied. “But what’s this about anyway?”
“We’ll tell you everything, Pat. Just have a seat, and I’ll get you that coffee.”
Bewildered, Mr. Shaw obeyed.
Pa returned in a minute, handed Mr. Shaw a steaming blue tin cup, then sat down himself. Almeda joined him.
“This has been Almeda’s idea from the start,” Pa said, “so I reckon I’ll let her tell you about the scheme she hatched to try to foil ol’ Royce.” He cast her a glance, then sat back and took a sip from his own cup.
“It all began last week,” Almeda began, “when we were praying about what to do about the election. We were asking the Lord whether to quit and give in, or whether to fight on somehow, even though it seemed, as you men would say, that Franklin held all the right cards. Your note had been called due, we’d just received word that the title to our land was being questioned, and word was going around town that a vote against Franklin Royce would result in the same kinds of things happening to others. We just didn’t see what could be done. But then I had an idea! And I think it was God speaking providentially to us. I certainly pray it was, but I suppose time will tell. I have no idea if it will work. And if it goes against us, it could mean doom for everybody.”
“I don’t understand a word of what you’re talking about,” said Mr. Shaw. “From where I sit, it don’t appear there’s nobody in any danger except you folks and us.”
“Just hear her out, Pat,” said Pa. “Go on, Almeda, quit beating around the bush. Pat’s dying of curiosity!”
Almeda smiled. “I just returned from Sacramento,” she said. “I rode down there with Zack, and on Monday morning I went to see a man I’ve known for several years, Carl Denver. He is one of three vice-presidents of the banking and investment firm Finchwood Ltd. I think they’re connected somehow to a bank in London, but I don’t know for sure. My late husband knew Carl, and when we first came west, Carl helped my husband secure a small loan to open our business in Miracle Springs. That loan was paid off long ago, but Carl and I have kept in touch through the years and I’ve borrowed from them a time or two, and have done some freight business with his firm as well. And now Carl’s risen to a fairly prominent position.
“Well, I explained our situation to him. He said he’d read about the mayor’s race in the Alta, and I told him the article was written by my stepdaughter.”
She looked over in my direction. I couldn’t help but be pleased that somebody Almeda knew had seen it!
“When I told him some of the things that have happened, he became positively livid. ‘Anything I can do to help,’ he said. ‘Anything!’ But when I mentioned the sum of eighteen thousand dollars, his enthusiasm cooled. ‘That’s a great deal of money, Almeda,’ he said. I knew that only too well! I’d never borrowed more than five or six thousand from him before. I told him I’d secure it with my house and the business and what stock-in-trade I have, although that wouldn’t amount to more than ten or twelve thousand. I knew it would be going out on a limb for him, but I assured him that the other property involved—that’s yours, Mr. Shaw—was solid, and that we could add to the collateral amount later to more than cover the full amount of the loan. He said he’d have to discuss the matter with the higher-ups of Finchwood, but that he’d do everything he could on my behalf, and to come back about noon.”
“So Zack and I left and I showed him around some of Sacramento. We had a good time together, didn’t we, Zack?”
Zack nodded.
“We returned to Carl’s office just before twelve. From the big smile across his face, I could tell he had good news!
“‘You’ll never believe this!’ he exclaimed. ‘I don’t believe it myself. But we hit Mr. Finch on just the right day!’
“‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
“‘He knows Royce,’ Carl answered. ‘And in plain English, Almeda—he hates him! Seems several years ago, when different companies were new to California and were trying to get firmly established, Jackson, Royce, Briggs, and Royce pulled some underhanded things against Finchwood. Nearly put them out of business, the way I understand it. And ever since, the rivalry between the two has been fierce . . . and bitter. Just last week, Mr. Finch told me, the old man of the outfit, Briggs, stole one of Finchwood’s largest clients away from them. And that’s why Finch is roaring mad. I told him that this Royce you’re dealing with isn’t with his father’s firm any longer, but Finch said he didn’t care. “A Royce is a Royce!” he said. “And besides, I still owe that young weasel of a Royce a thing or two from ’51!” Anyway,
I went on to explain your whole predicament to him, and almost before I was done, he said, “Look, Carl, you bring that lady-friend of yours in to meet me. I want to shake hands with the woman with guts enough to square off in an election against that snake. And then you tell her we’ll back her up. We don’t need her collateral either. I trust her from what I know of her, and your word vouching for her is good enough for me. I’d love to see her put that pretentious imposter out of business, though I don’t suppose we could be that fortunate!”’”
Almeda took a breath and smiled.
“I still ain’t sure if I see how my property has anything to do with your banking friends,” said Mr. Shaw.
“I’m just about to get to that,” said Almeda. “Well, Carl took me right into Mr. Finch’s office. The president of the company treated me like royalty—got a chair for me, offered me something to drink, and then shook my hand and said what an honor it was for him to meet me! Can you imagine that! An honor for him to meet me!
“We talked for quite a while. He said he’d investigated the northlands up around here a time or two, and had even thought of expanding and investing in this direction but nothing had ever come of it. The more we talked, the more interested he became, he even scratched his head once and said he thought he’d heard of the new strike at Miracle Springs. ‘Had something to do with a kid getting caught in a mine and being pulled out by his brother, didn’t it?’ I said that indeed it did, and that those two boys were now fine young men and that I was privileged to call them my sons.”
Tad was beaming as she spoke.
“He said that if worse came to worst, and he wound up holding mortgages on half a dozen pieces of property, he’d consider it a good investment, and worth every penny to put a corrupt man like Royce out of business.”
A Place in the Sun Page 6
