“Evening, Mort.” Paddy removed his bowler hat. He seldom took it off, but his godfather insisted on the old country rule that no hats be worn in the house—meaning his office.
Sally Whitworth sat in one of the two chairs in front of Kavanagh’s desk. She wrinkled her nose and frowned when she looked at Paddy.
“Sit down,” Kavanagh said, “and tell me when the strike’s going to start.”
“Well, and sure it is that I don’t know.”
Kavanagh glared, causing Paddy to fidget as he slid into the chair beside Sally.
“What do you mean, you don’t know? Isn’t that what you were sent to do?”
“True it is, that was the mission. And to me own way of thinking, I accomplished it.”
“And how did you accomplish your mission if they ain’t striking?” Kavanagh’s voice thundered the question.
Paddy told his boss about his meeting with the Irish tracklayers in the Sweet Adeline saloon, making a point of describing in detail the discussion that extended well into the evening.
A knock on the door interrupted Paddy’s story.
“What is it?” Kavanagh shouted.
The door opened and Randy Tremble appeared. He remained in the open door, holding onto the knob as if he didn’t plan on staying long.
“Thought you ought to hear the news, boss. The stationmaster stopped in to inform me that shipment of liquor from back east won’t be coming.”
“What?”
“Seems there was a train wreck back up the line between Wahsatch and the ‘Zig-Zag.’ All the boxcars were destroyed. The only cargo the UP could salvage was stuff that wasn’t breakable.”
“What the—” Kavanagh slammed a meaty fist onto the desk.
“Thought you should know right away, boss.” Randy stepped back out of the office, pulling the door closed behind him.
“First, no strike! Now, no liquor shipment! What else can go wrong?”
Paddy looked sideways at Sally, who shrugged.
“Get out of here, both of you.”
Paddy and Sally left.
“If that strike doesn’t take place soon, Paddy O’Hannigan,” Sally said, “we’re both going to lose our jobs. Mort’s counting on the railroad paying the back wages so he can collect on his IOUs. He expected you to do a better job stirring up the workers, you dumb Mick.”
Sally lifted her long skirt up from her high-top shoes and stepped down off the wooden floor onto the dirt one. Her hips swayed as she sashayed back into the tented dance hall.
Mort hadn’t offered to pay Paddy anything. Now what was he going to do? Where was he going to find money to send to his mother and sister? Where was he going to get money to eat?
CHAPTER 17
On the last day of February 1869, Will, his uncle, and Homer entered Echo City’s Wells Fargo home station. The three of them hurried inside and pulled the door closed to keep the chilly breeze from entering the building.
“Good morning, Jenny,” Will’s uncle said. “Morning, Alistair.”
“Good morning, Mr. Corcoran,” Jenny said. “Please sit down. Papa and I were ready to have a cup of coffee. Join us.”
Will, Homer, and his uncle stepped over a long bench and settled themselves at the main table in the center of the room. Jenny’s father sat opposite, his back to the potbellied stove. Jenny’s younger brother, Duncan, rocked in a chair beside the door that led to the family’s sleeping area.
Jenny gathered a handful of cups from a shelf above the stove and set them on the table. Using a rag to protect her hand from the hot pot, she poured five cups of coffee.
“Homer,” she said, “I believe you’re the only one who uses sugar.”
“Yes, ma’am, I surely does. I likes my coffee sweet.”
Jenny set a sugar bowl in front of Homer and took a seat on the bench beside her father.
“Well, Alistair,” Will’s uncle said, “the UP finally finished laying the tracks through Devil’s Gate and will reach Ogden next week. Then what?”
“We were discussing that. It means the end of paid employment for some members of the family. We’ll be closing the Echo City station in a few days. I can hang on awhile by helping out in Ogden. Duncan can probably find part-time work as a Wells Fargo telegrapher there . . . but, Jenny probably won’t be paid by the company any longer.”
Jenny blew her breath across the top of her cup, the steam from it caressing the end of her nose. She shrugged and sipped her coffee.
“Does that mean Wells Fargo won’t need a station in Ogden?” Will directed his question across the table to Jenny.
“They already have one,” Jenny said. “But Ogden’s a regular city. It has hotels and restaurants. They don’t serve meals at the Ogden station.”
“What about beyond Ogden?” Will asked. He shifted on the bench as he addressed Jenny’s father.
“Wells Fargo will continue running stages around the south end of Great Salt Lake until the CP and the UP come closer together,” McNabb said. “But, those stations are already staffed. When the two railroads join, everything east and west for Wells Fargo shuts down.”
“I’se got an idea,” Homer said. He continued to swirl a spoon in his cup, dissolving the heap of sugar with which he’d laced his drink.
Will and the others looked at Homer. “What?” Will asked.
“General Dodge is coming and he asked General Jack if he’d release me from kitchen duty on the work train so’s I could be the cook on his special train. My broke shoulder still troubles me some, so I could use some help.”
“So?” Will asked.
“I’m thinking, Mr. Corcoran could suggest to General Dodge that Jenny be my assistant cook . . . like Will done two years ago. Jenny’s a much better cook than I is. I can cook up a mess of rabbit or deer meat, but that’s campfire cooking. Jenny could add lots of more interesting things for General Dodge to serve to his guests.”
“Not a bad idea, Homer,” Will said. “Assistant cook’s pay on the railroad isn’t much, I know. But it’s better than nothing.”
“Jenny,” Will’s uncle asked, “do you think you could do that?”
Jenny looked at her father, then back at Will’s uncle. “I could do it, if Papa would agree.”
“I’ll agree,” McNabb said, “on condition that Homer is always there. I wouldn’t want Jenny alone on that train. I trust General Dodge, of course, but he’ll have his hands full with his work. He won’t have time to look after a girl. I would trust Homer to protect Jenny and keep her from harm from any of the railroad workers.”
“That’s settled, then,” Will’s uncle said. “I’ll discuss the matter with General Dodge when he arrives.”
“Thank you, gentlemen,” McNabb said, “for helping solve our immediate problem. What about you, though? What are you going to do after the rails meet?”
Will looked at his uncle, whose mouth tightened when he shook his head. “Hard to say. There’s going to be more railroads built, I’m sure. But when, and where, that’s the question.”
CHAPTER 18
The locomotive drifted past the station platform, the engineer ringing the bell to announce his arrival. The brakes squealed as they were applied to the huge driving wheels. Steam belched from the pistons with a hiss. The couplers rattled and jangled as the half-dozen cars on General Dodge’s special train slammed into one another and jolted to a halt.
“There he is,” Will said. He pointed to the sole passenger car the engineer had positioned directly opposite the platform.
General Grenville Dodge leaned off the rear platform and waved at the group who had assembled to welcome him to Echo City. Will thought the gray-haired chief engineer of the Union Pacific had aged a little more since he’d last seen him. Dodge’s beard no longer contained streaks of black.
Dodge stepped from the car to the platform. “Greetings,” he said. “Good to see all of you.” He grasped the hand of Will’s uncle, Homer, and Will in turn.
“Welcome to end of track, G
eneral,” Will’s uncle said.
Dodge paused in front of Jenny and gave a slight bow and tipped his hat. “Miss Jenny McNabb, as I recall.”
“That’s right, sir,” Jenny said. “I’m pleased you remembered.”
“Oh, it’s never hard to remember a pretty face.”
Will saw a slight blush cross Jenny’s cheeks. She fiddled with the ends of the multicolored scarf she wore. She had not replaced her bonnet after giving her old one to her sister last year in Green River, when Elspeth had used it to disguise her appearance and aid in her escape from the wrath of Mort Kavanagh.
“Oh, Sean,” Dodge said. “Lieutenant Moretti and his detachment are arriving on the next train. They had to wait for stable cars to bring their horses. I expect they’ll be here before sundown. Can you direct him to a place where they can secure their mounts?”
“That I can, sir. Echo City has a decent livery stable, and there is plenty of corral space.”
“Good. Will, Lieutenant Moretti tells me it was your convincing arguments that led Lone Eagle Munro to accept a position with the detachment as a scout. He’ll be coming with them. Not sure why we need a scout, but the lieutenant insisted.”
“Lone Eagle is a good man, sir,” Will said. “I’m glad he decided to take the job.”
“General Dodge!” A shout from the bay window of the station attracted the attention of everyone on the platform. A man wearing a visor leaned out of the window waving two yellow papers. “Telegrams for you, sir. They just arrived.”
“Thank you, Elmo.” Dodge went over to the window and took the proffered documents. “Good to see you again, Elmo.”
Elmo Nicoletti served as the Union Pacific’s stationmaster and chief telegrapher at Echo City. Will had helped Elmo restring a downed telegraph wire the year before in central Wyoming when Ulysses S. Grant traveled west to inspect the progress of railroad construction.
Dodge read through the two telegrams quickly. “Well, this one’s not a surprise. It’s the official announcement Grant has now been inaugurated as the eighteenth president of the United States. This other one is a surprise, though.”
Dodge shook one of the telegrams. “Doc Durant telegraphs that one of Grant’s first actions as president was to announce the government is withholding further payments to the railroads, both UP and CP, until they agree upon a meeting place. That certainly complicates the financial situation.”
“No pay yet for the men?” Will’s uncle asked. “Hopes were high that you might be bringing some money.”
“Afraid not. This also means that I won’t be staying. Durant is ordering me to return to Washington to enter into negotiations with Collis Huntington about that meeting place.”
Huntington was one of the Central Pacific’s “Big Four” owners. He worked in the nation’s capital lobbying for favorable treatment of the Central Pacific, often to the detriment of the Union Pacific.
“I’m sorry to see you leave so soon, General,” Will’s uncle said.
“So am I. I’d much prefer to stay out here where at least progress on construction gives a man a good reason for getting up each morning. I’m sick and tired of the constant bickering surrounding all the political posturing that takes place in Washington. I’m glad my term as a representative is over.”
Will, Homer, and Jenny stood silently by listening to the conversation between Dodge and Will’s uncle.
Dodge turned to Homer. “Did you convince General Jack to release you so you can be my cook?”
“Yas, suh, I did.”
“That’s good news, at least. Lone Eagle bagged a nice antelope outside Fort Bridger earlier today. They’re bringing the carcass along on their train. I want you to fix me a good antelope steak. Haven’t had one in months. Makes my mouth water anticipating the taste.”
“Suh, if you don’t mind,” Homer said, “with my busted collarbone, I don’t get as much done as I used to. Miss Jenny, here, is available to lend me a hand as my assistant cook. She’s much better at cooking than me. I can roast up that antelope, but she can fix some trimmings that’ll make this a feast, for sure.”
“You’re proposing the railroad hire her?” Dodge asked.
“Yas, suh.”
Dodge looked at Jenny. “I can agree to that. But, she has to understand that nobody working for the Union Pacific is receiving any cash right now. Are you willing to work on those conditions, Miss McNabb?”
“Yes, sir,” Jenny said.
“Good,” Dodge said. “All of you join me for dinner this evening in my private car. I’ll ask the Casement brothers to join us. This has the makings of a fine evening.”
CHAPTER 19
Paddy entered the main room of the Union Pacific’s depot in Echo City. “Elmo, you here?” He pounded on a bell on the counter. The stationmaster was nowhere in sight. Paddy would have to find Mort’s box without Elmo’s help.
Mort had sent Paddy to retrieve a box of poker chips that had arrived the previous day. Nicoletti had dropped the waybill off at the Lucky Dollar to inform Kavanagh his shipment was available for pickup. The UP didn’t deliver packages. It was up to the recipient to collect the shipment from the depot.
Paddy headed for the baggage room door that led off the main room. He looked at the waybill. Shouldn’t be too hard to find. The number for the shipment was printed on the waybill. He’d check the boxes until he found the matching number. He was growing tired of performing menial tasks for Mort Kavanagh. He kept promising himself that someday he’d find a way to break away from his godfather. He only needed a way to make some money.
Paddy stopped in the doorway and shook his head. Boxes of all sizes filled the baggage room from top to bottom and side to side. Bloody luck. He’d have to climb over and around a lot of packages to find what he was looking for. He left the door propped open to let more light into the dim room. A window facing the platform penetrated one wall of the baggage room, but it didn’t allow much light to filter into the large space.
Paddy heard the outside door leading into the main depot room open. Good, Elmo must be back. He would know right where to find the box. He probably had some system for arranging the items for easy retrieval.
“General, I’m sorry you can’t stay longer.”
Paddy stopped. That was Sean Corcoran’s voice, not Elmo’s. Paddy knelt behind a pile of boxes and eased his Colt revolver from its holster.
“I wish I could stay, Sean,” General Dodge said, “but this business of Grant withholding money until we reach an agreement with the Central Pacific on where we’re going to hook up can’t wait. I have to head back east tomorrow.”
“At least you’ll enjoy an antelope steak before you go, General.” That was Will Braddock’s voice. “Homer will cook that up really nice.”
Paddy shifted his position enough that he could peer between the stacks of boxes to see through the open baggage room door. General Dodge’s back faced him, partially blocking his view of Sean Corcoran and Will Braddock. If he had a clear shot, he could blast two of his enemies and put them away. But, there was only one exit out of the baggage room. He might get trapped.
“I’m looking forward to tonight’s supper, that’s for certain. I’ll bet it’s been six months since I had an antelope steak. I know Homer can prepare the antelope, and I’m anxious to see what special treats Miss McNabb is going to add to the meal. Her reputation for cooking is well known, but I’ve not had the pleasure of enjoying it.”
“It will be good,” Corcoran said. “You can take my word that she’s a fantastic cook. She’s worth her weight in gold.”
Worth her weight in gold. Wait a minute, Paddy thought. Maybe that’s the way to lay his hands on a sizable sum. Her father works for Wells Fargo. They handle all those gold shipments. Then there’s the Union Pacific. Maybe they haven’t paid the workers for a while, but he’d bet there was money to be had from that source, too.
Paddy rubbed the scar on his left cheek. Mother, me dear . . . and little sister, too. Sure, and we�
��re going to come into a small fortune.
All he had to do was kidnap Jenny McNabb.
CHAPTER 20
“Homer,” Jenny said, “it doesn’t look like anyone’s used this kitchen in months.”
“I’d say that’s about right.”
“Where do you suppose General Dodge has been taking his meals?”
“I ’spect he jest ate when the train stopped in some depot town.”
Jenny set the box of food she carried onto a counter. She pushed the blue and gold checkered scarf off her head, letting it hang behind her neck and over her shoulders. Her sister, Elspeth, had sent her the scarf and the matching calico dress as a Christmas present from Sacramento. It was the only decent clothing Jenny owned, and this was the first time she’d worn them. She decided she wanted to look her best for serving General Dodge and his guests.
“We’ll have to clean this place up before we can cook a decent meal here, Homer.”
“Right. I’ll have to find some wood for the stove, too. Ain’t nothing here to build a fire with. I’ll go fetch something off the Casements’ work train. They keeps it well supplied with kindling and cordwood.”
A long, steady whistle announced the arrival of a train. Dodge’s special coach sat positioned on a siding opposite the depot with the mainline passing between the siding and the station building. Sliding into view out the windows of the kitchen, Jenny watched the 4-4-0 locomotive blowing steam and smoke as it ground to a halt past the depot’s platform. A stable car stopped directly opposite Dodge’s coach.
While she cleaned the countertops and wiped dust from the pots and pans, she observed a detachment of half a dozen cavalrymen unload their horses from the stable car. She recognized Lieutenant Moretti and Lone Eagle right away. She wiped her hands on her apron and stepped out of the car’s single front door onto the small platform.
She lifted her scarf over her head and waved it. “Hello, Luey!
Hello, Lone Eagle!”
The two men looked in her direction.
“Jenny McNabb,” Luey said. “What are you doing on General Dodge’s coach?”
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