“They’ve never given me a moment’s trouble and they’ve always paid their bills on time.”
“They’re cattle thieves,” Mrs. Murback said.
“Nobody has ever proven that.”
“Nobody has to prove it. Everyone knows it. Besides, none of the Scattergoods went to war.”
“We have several who didn’t go to war,” Bowman reminded them. “Including James Cason.” He looked pointedly at Meg.
“I have informed Mr. Cason that I want nothing to do with a man who would not do his duty,” Meg said.
“Well, if you ask me, they are all slackers. But the Scattergoods are the worst of the lot,” Mrs. Murback said. “If, God forbid, my son Abner doesn’t come back, it’s going to be awfully hard to see healthy young men walking around without a scratch on them.”
“Still, you can’t hold it against Revelation because her brothers didn’t go off to fight in the war,” Bowman suggested.
“I don’t know why I can’t. She is clearly the worst of the lot, and I’ve no doubt whatsoever that she wouldn’t have gone if she had been a man. I just don’t see how you can do business with them.”
“I don’t have to like everyone I do business with,” Bowman said. “But as long as I do business with the public, seems to me like I have an obligation to serve everyone.”
Revelation Scattergood was one of five children. She was twenty years old, her brothers Matthew and Mark were twenty-three and twenty-two respectively. Luke and John, the twins, were twenty-one. Revelation’s mother died when Revelation was only newborn, leaving Ebeneezer Scattergood to raise his brood alone.
“He didn’t raise them,” someone once said, when another had commented on how difficult it must’ve been for Ebeneezer to raise five children on his own. “Hell, he just let them young’uns grow up like weeds. They’re just as tough and just as mean as weeds, too. And the girl? She ain’t a bit different; she’s as tough as any of her brothers.”
“Who can blame her? I reckon if you lived with a bunch like that, you’d probably try and survive any way you could.”
After Revelation left Bowman’s Mercantile, she stopped at the shoe store where she bought a pair of boots, then at the apothecary to pick up a nostrum for Luke’s toothache. It wasn’t until she returned to the livery where she had left the buckboard that she heard the liveryman, Michael Thornton, talking with Ian McMurtry about the upcoming cattle drive to Dakota.
“The four of ’em is takin’ a herd of near three thousand cows all the way to Dakota, is what I hear,” Thornton said.
“Sure now, an’ who would be so crazy as to do such a thing?” McMurtry asked. McMurtry was in the freighting business, and he owned half a dozen freight wagons that he kept parked at the livery.
“James Cason is the one puttin’ it together, I understand. And of course, whenever you see James, you gotta figure Bob Ferguson is goin’ to be with ’im. Them two boys been friends since they was just just little fellas, what with Dusty Ferguson bein’ Garrison Ferguson’s foreman all these years. Billy Swan, and Duke Faglier is the other two.”
“Duke Faglier, you say. And would that be the lad that works for you?”
“He did work for me. He give me his notice last Friday.”
“He’s a good worker, that lad.”
“Very good, very dependable,” Thornton said. “And quiet, too, the kind of quiet that makes a body wonder just what is goin’ on in that head of his. But he never was any trouble. I’m goin’ to hate losin’ him.”
“Sure an’ they must be payin’ him pretty good for him to give up steady work.”
“He told me he was getting two hundred fifty head give to him as his share.”
“Did he now? Two hundred and fifty cows you say?” McMurtry said. “Aye, that would be enough to turn the head of any ambitious lad.”
“Duke said they told him cows is bringin’ fifty dollars a head up in Dakota,” Thornton said.
McMurtry whistled. “Fifty dollars a head? My, ’tis a king’s ransom, that is. But if you ask me, they’ll not get the job done. They’ve more’n a thousand miles to go, and it’ll take ’em a good three months, even if they can keep the herd together, which I don’t think they can. ’Tis more of a task than four wee lads can handle, I’m thinkin’.”
Thornton looked around then and was startled to see Revelation standing there.
“My word, Revelation, why didn’t you say something? Here I was just gabbing away, and you’re here for your buckboard.”
“That’s all right, Mr. Thornton,” Revelation said. “I’m in no particular hurry. What do I owe you?”
“Well, your team has been fed and watered. Twenty-five cents ought to do it. You want me to bring it around for you?”
“No, I’ll get it, thank you,” Revelation said, handing him a quarter from her coin purse.
Thornton and McMurtry watched Revelation as she strolled across the wagon yard toward her team and buckboard.
“You know, with her fair hair and green eyes, she could be a colleen from the old sod, that’s for sure. And ’tis a fair lass she might well be, if only she would dress like one,” McMurtry said.
“Perhaps, but that’s not anything we’re going to ever see,” he said.
“Too bad. If the poor lass looked a wee bit more like a woman, I’m thinkin’ she could get herself a husband. I’m believing the women would be a mite easier on her if she had a man of her own.”
Thornton laughed. “Anyone who would marry her would have to tame her first, and I don’t think the man has been born who can do that. Did you see what she did to Cleetus Mon roe that time?”
“Sure, Michael, an’ aren’t you for remem berin’ that I was standin’ right by your side when it happened?”
McMurtry’s declaration that he had witnessed it did not deter Thornton from telling what he considered to be a good story.
“Ol’ Cleetus got it in his mind that he was goin’ to take her britches off, to see if she really was a woman under there,” Thornton began. “But she got away from him, then grabbed a whip and pret’ near cut him to ribbons. He was on the ground, all covered up, cryin’ and beg-gin’ for mercy before she stopped.”
“Aye, and prayin’ to the Mother of our Lord to save him, and him not even being Catholic,” McMurtry concluded, laughing with Thornton as they recalled the event.
To Thornton’s surprise, Revelation came walking back toward them. At first he was concerned that she may have overheard them talking, and he wondered if she were going to make a scene. He was relieved when she seemed to be totally unaware that they had been talking about her.
“Mr. McMurtry, do you still have that wagon for sale?”
“Aye,” McMurtry said. “A sturdy Studebaker wagon it is, as fine a wagon as you’ll find in these parts, I’m thinkin’.”
“And you have the mules to pull them?”
“Aye, lass, that I do. ’Tis a good strong team they are.”
“Is it right that there are no other wagons or mules to be had anywhere else?”
“That’s right,” McMurtry said. “The army of the Confederacy bought up all the rest of the stock, rolling and live. My wagon and team is all that’s left.”
“How much do want for the wagon and team?”
“Five hundred dollars for the wagon, three hundred dollars for a matched team. It’ll cost you eight hundred dollars, all together.”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“Aye, it’s a wee steep, but ’tis a good wagon and a good team. There’s folks payin’ that much for any kind of wagon and team, sure an’ they are that dear now.”
“All right, you hitch up the team. I’ll go to the bank and get a draft for eight hundred dollars.”
“Forgive me, lass, for being a bit o’ the skep-tic,” McMurtry said. “But will the bank be for honoring your draft?”
Thornton cleared his throat. “I’ll speak up for the girl,” he said. “She handles all the business for the family.”
“Why is that now? Herself being a woman?” McMurtry asked.
“Because the truth is, her brothers are so downright ornery that nobody wants to have anything to do with them,” Thornton answered. He touched the brim of his hat. “Forgive me, Revelation, for speakin’ ill of your kin.”
“When it’s the truth, there’s no need to apologize,” Revelation said. “Mr. Thornton, if you don’t mind, I’ll just leave the buckboard here for a while longer. Either I or one of my brothers will call for it later.”
“That’ll be fine,” Thornton said.
“I’ll be right back with your money,” Revelation said to McMurtry.
Both men watched as the young woman walked toward the bank. Then Thornton turned to McMurtry. “Well, don’t just stand there, man. Get the team hitched up.”
Long Shadow Ranch:
After Billy Swan put his cows in with the traveling herd, all four boys bunked at Long Shadow while making preparations to leave. This worked no hardship on the ranch, as the bunkhouse was empty, that condition having come about when, to a man, all the hands left with the Bexar Fusiliers. Bob Ferguson’s mother had been cooking for the ranch for many years, so it was an easy thing for her to cook for the young men.
James Cason slept and ate in the bunkhouse as well, though his mother would have preferred that he continue to live in the main house.
“After all, you are going to be gone a long time,” she argued.
But Garrison defended James’s choice to sleep in the bunkhouse, reminding his wife that her son would be living very closely with the young men for all the time they were gone, and it was a good thing that they start getting used to doing everything together now.
“Then perhaps I’ll just clean the place up for them. I’m sure the cowboys left it a mess.”
“Alice Cason, you’ll do no such thing,” Garrison said. “There are some places that are a man’s domain, and the bunkhouse is one of those places.”
“Betty Ferguson goes in the bunkhouse all the time,” Alice protested.
“That’s different. Mrs. Ferguson cooks for the outfit, and she always has.”
“May I remind you that there is no outfit anymore?” Alice said. “Your cowboys have all gone to war, every single one, leaving you high and dry.”
“That’s where you are wrong, Alice. We have a fine company of young men now.” Garrison looked pensive for a moment. “I just hope they are able to persuade a few others to go with them.”
Mrs. Ferguson was already serving supper when Duke Faglier came in. He took his hat off, hung it on a peg, then washed his face and hands at the basin.
“Sorry I’m late, Mrs. Ferguson,” Duke said as he dried his hands.
“That’s quite all right, Duke. The food is still warm.”
“Any luck?” James asked, passing the mashed potatoes to Duke as he sat down. The others looked toward Duke as he answered.
Spooning the mashed potatoes onto his plate, Duke shook his head slowly. “None. There’s nobody left in the entire county who is willing to ride for forty and found. Especially if they have to wait until the cattle are delivered before they are paid.”
“I’m not surprised,” Dusty Ferguson said.
“Why’s that, Pop?” Bob asked. “Forty and found seems a reasonable enough wage.”
“Oh, it was at one time. But now most of the young men have gone off to war. Those who are left are at a premium, and they know it.”
“What are we going to do, James? I don’t think the four of us can handle a herd this large.”
James sighed. “I guess about the only thing we can do is cut back on the size of the herd.”
“Cut back how much?” Billy asked.
“I’d say by half.”
Duke chuckled.
“What is it?” Billy asked. “What’s so funny?”
“Now I know what it’s like to be a big rancher,” Duke said. “I’ve just lost half my herd, and I haven’t even started yet.”
The others laughed with him.
“If that is all that befalls you during this adventure, you’ll consider yourselves lucky enough,” Dusty said.
Chapter Eight
“The herd is gathered,” Billy Swan said to James, as he swung down from his horse. “Bob and Duke are watching them now.”
“Good,” James answered, almost offhandedly. He had his hands on his hips and was looking at the three wagons he had lined up in front of him. He shook his head slowly.
“What’s the problem?” Billy asked.
“I thought sure we would be able to get at least one good wagon out of these three,” James replied. He pointed to them. “But even if I took parts off one to fix the other, I don’t think I could come up with a wagon that would make the trip. Like as not it would break down about halfway there, then we would be in worse shape than when we started.”
“Well, these are just little trap wagons, anyway,” Billy said, taking them in with a wave of his hand. “They aren’t really designed for a long trip.”
“I guess I’ll ride into town to see what I can find,” James said, starting toward his horse. “We can’t make the trip without a wagon.”
“ ’Tis sorry I am to be tellin’ you this, lad,” McMurtry said after James inquired about the purchase of a wagon. “But sure’n I sold my last wagon and team to the Scattergoods.”
“The Scattergoods?” James said. “You sold the last wagon in Bexar County to the Scattergoods?”
“To the lass, actually,” McMurtry said. “Reve lation bought the wagon and the team.”
“Why would you sell to people like that?” James asked.
“There’s really no big mystery as to why, lad. I had a wagon for sale, and the lass offered the askin’ price. ’Tis not for you to be tellin’ me now who I can and who I can’t sell to.”
In frustration, James ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right,” he said. “But I still need a wagon. Are you sure you don’t have a wagon you can sell?”
“The only wagons I have left I’m usin’ for the freight line,” McMurtry said. “I’ve none to spare.”
“Do you know where a wagon can be had?”
McMurtry shook his head. “Sorry, lad, I don’t.”
It was late afternoon by the time James returned to Long Shadow. The others were already sitting at the supper table when he arrived. All of them looked toward him, the unasked question on their faces.
“No wagons to be found—anywhere,” James said, disgustedly.
“When I was working at the stable, Mr. McMurtry told me he had a wagon for sale,” Duke said. “What happened to it?”
James forked a pork chop onto his plate before he answered. “He sold it to Revelation Scattergood,” James said glumly.
The Scattergood Spread:
“Would you mind tellin’ me just what the hell we need with a wagon like that?” Matthew Scattergood asked his sister.
“It’s the last wagon of its kind within a hundred miles of here,” Revelation explained.
“So?” Matthew asked.
“Wait a minute, Matthew, I think I’m be ginnin’ to see what Revelation is talkin’ about,” Mark said. “If this here is the last wagon of its kind, and we own it, why, I reckon we can sell it for just about anything we want to ask for it.”
“Yeah,” Luke said. “And I know who we can sell it to.”
“Who?” John asked.
“We can sell it to ol’ James Cason and his bunch. I hear they are tryin’ to hire enough drovers at forty dollars a month and found to take a herd of cattle up to Dakota. They ain’t havin’ much luck gettin’ anyone to ride with them, but if they manage to put an outfit together, they’re goin’ to be needin’ a sturdy wagon and a good team of mules.”
“Ha, that’s right!” Mark said. He laughed. “And anyone stupid enough to try and push cows all the way to Dakota is prob’ly stupid enough to pay twice what this wagon is worth.” He looked at Revelation. “I don’t care what the others say about y
ou, Sis, I think what you done was real smart. Yes, sir, we’ll turn a pretty penny on this wagon.”
“We aren’t going to sell it,” Revelation replied.
“What? What do you mean we ain’t goin’ to sell it?” Mark asked. “What the hell are we goin’ to do with it if we don’t sell it?”
“We’re going to take it to Dakota. Along with five hundred head of cows. We’re going to join the Cason outfit.”
“What?” Matthew exploded. “Now you’ve done it! I always know’d you was a little touched, but this time you have gone over the edge. Whatever got it in your mind that we would drive five hundred head of cows all the way to Dakota?”
“Yeah, have you gone completely crazy?” Luke added.
John pointed to his temple and made a circling motion with his finger. The others laughed.
“When we sell our cattle here, how much do we get for them?” Revelation asked.
“Maybe ten, fifteen dollars a head,” Mark answered. He laughed. “We can’t be none too particular about the price since we ain’t always that particular about what brand our cow is wearin’.”
The others laughed.
“Exactly,” Revelation replied. “What if I told you that we could get fifty dollars a head for our cattle in Dakota?” Revelation asked.
“Why would anyone pay that much for a cow?” John asked.
“Wait a minute,” Mark said. “Revelation might be on to somethin’. I hear tell there’s a gold rush goin’ on up there now. I been thinkin’ about maybe goin’ up there to look for some gold myself. But my guess is, there are probably some hungry folks up there about now. I ’spect a little beef would taste real good to ’em.”
“Fifty dollars a head? How much money would that be?” Matthew asked.
“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” Revelation replied. “That’s five thousand dollars for each of us.”
Luke whistled. “Jumpin’ Jehoshafphat, that is a lot of money.”
“Plus, don’t forget, once we get up there we can do some of our lookin’ for gold,” Mark suggested.
The Bozeman Trail Page 8
