“What’re you doin’?” the man asked suspiciously as Emmalee walked toward his horse.
“You’ll see.”
She took the looped lasso from his saddlehorn, carried it back to him, and began tying him to the pine tree.
“Owwwww! Careful of my…God damn it…my arm! You can’t leave me like this.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be gone long. I have to drive my stakes before those people riding this way take the land I want.”
Kaiserhalt laughed maliciously. “You ain’t gonna beat anybody on that mule.”
“That’s why I’m going to borrow your horse.”
“What?”
“Besides, Randy Clay will probably be back soon. I suggest you treat him with respect. He’s not going to like it when he learns that you removed his marker.”
Then Emmalee yanked Kaiserhalt’s stake out of the earth, replaced it with Randy’s, and drove her own into the ground too. Mounting Kaiserhalt’s horse, she galloped southward and managed to place her second marker before the group of pioneers came down from the hill. She saw that they were from Torquist’s party—Leander Rupp, formerly of Elkhart, Indiana, and a whole passel of his pale-eyed southern Indiana hillbilly cousins. She was barely familiar with the Rupps. They’d always had difficulty getting started in the mornings and usually they’d brought up the rear of the wagon train. “Leander Rupp carried a ton of dust across Kansas,” Randy’d joked once. Apparently Rupp had had another late start today.
After driving her second marker, Emmalee turned east. When the official survey occurred, there’d be time to measure exactly, but Emmalee tried as best she could to gauge the distance covered by the horse and calculate accordingly. An acre was a little over forty-three thousand square feet, and she was allowed a hundred and sixty acres by law. Setting her third marker, she turned north and found to her considerable satisfaction that she was only yards away from Randy’s easternmost stake. Then she headed back westward toward the three pines.
Randy was waiting for her.
“Em! We did it! We’ve claimed three hundred and twenty acres of gorgeous land.”
“Where is Alf Kaiserhalt?”
“Who?”
“The man I told you about. The one who grabbed me in the willows. And where’s Ned?”
In his excitement, Randy hadn’t even noticed that Em was riding a horse instead of Myrtle’s mule.
Qaickly she explained what had happened.
“And he tried to kill you with the mallet?” cried Randy. “What did you do?”
“I broke his…I broke his arm. It was…luck, I guess. We struggled…”
“Did anyone witness this? Are you sure he pulled out my marker and replaced it with his?”
She did not want to mention that Garn had been present. It would only be an unnecessary complication. “I don’t think anyone saw it up close. The Rupps were too far away at the time. But Kaiserholt did take your marker.”
“And he also took the mule. Probably back to town. I’ll deal with him when we get there. But meantime, Em, just think! This is all ours. We’ll call it Three Pines. What do you think? And can’t you just see the richness of that loam? One good harvest will be enough to get us on our feet. I’m going to get started and build a house right away. We’ll put up a little cabin or something on your place. That’ll satisfy the domicile requirement Tell told us about. I’ll borrow a little money from Hester—I guess there’s no other way—to buy some seed and a few cows…”
Randy chattered on. He was happy. He was euphoric. Emmalee herself was more than pleased. She already had a hundred dollars. Using her land as security, she would borrow from Hester, borrow enough to pay off Torquist and get some seed and stock of her own. It did not seem, at that moment, as if she could possibly fail. The land was so rich.
They got on the horses and rode back to Arcady, which was already jammed with farmers and ranchers waiting to let Vestor Tell know the location of their claims. Dismounting, they joined the line standing in front of the general store. Arcady was abuzz with the news of the day, and very quickly Emmalee perceived a pattern. True to the fears of Torquist and his farmers, Pennington’s ranchers had taken the best land. A palpable tension filled the air, rife with conflict, the disappointment of some just as intense as the triumphant satisfaction of others. Burt Pennington himself had taken a long swath of territory along the west bank of the river, not far from Torquist’s claim, and his cohorts had managed to commandeer vast, contiguous sections on both sides of the Big Two-Hearted. It was a veritable empire of connecting tracts. The farmers, by contrast, were scattered all over, their holdings patchlike and faintly ludicrous when Tell penciled them in on his big map of Olympia. Some fanners were surrounded on all four sides by ranchland.
But even these farmers were not the most unfortunate. Some people had failed to claim land at all. These hapless men, Festus Bent among them, hung their heads and slouched against the walls of the store, beyond hope. Their women had already retreated, weeping, to the wagons, which seemed at this moment like the only homes they would ever have. There were two choices for those who had failed to make claims: They might go back east from whence they came, the burden of failure dogging their every step, or they could attempt to hire out as Held hands to the newly propertied settlers. Within the space of a day, Olympia had added to its farmers and ranchers a third group, a bitter underclass of penniless men whose last great dream had been shattered. Such a situation did not augur well for tranquility in the Promised Land.
A big crowd of Pennington’s people were celebrating raucously around the beer barrel when Emmalee and Randy entered the general store. There were plenty of farmers inside, too, but the two groups kept their distance as much as possible in the din and press. Emmalee saw Burt Pennington’s ruddy, bullet-shaped head, saw Lottie beside him, beaming in demure, self-satisfied triumph. Lottie spotted Emmalee and her full, lush lips formal a brief, spiritless smile.
“How’d you two make out?” inquired Hester Brine, coming over to say hello to Emmalee and Randy. “Heared you had a spot of trouble.”
“What?” asked Emmalee, puzzled. “Oh, Kaiserhalt. It was nothing…”
“Watch your step,” warned Hester in a low voice.
“Next!” bellowed Tell from behind his desk. “Step along lively there. We haven’t got all day. Well, now look what we have here!”
Emmalee and Randy turned toward Tell. Alf Kaiserhalt, his arm in a sling, sat on a chair beside the claims agent, regarding the young couple with his small, evil eyes.
“Seems we have a little problem here,” said Tell.
“What’s that?” Randy asked anxiously.
“Both of your claims are questionable, due to accusations made by Mr. Kaiserhalt here. I’m gonna have to adjudicate.”
The people in the store quieted, pressing toward Tell’s desk and the big map he had spread out before him.
“There’s nothing amiss with either of our claims,” said Emmalee, fighting to keep a quaver of uncertainty out of her voice. Kaiserhalt had returned to town first and she had no idea what tidings he had related.
“You,” said Tell, pointing to Randy, “show me on the map the sections that you and your…ah, fiancée claimed.”
Randy picked up a pencil, bent to the map, studied it for a moment, and then drew two rough squares in the uplands east of the river.
“Em and I staked these fair and square,” Randy began. “We—”
“I’ll be the judge of that, son,” retorted Tell. “Alf, you go ahead and state your case now.”
Everyone in the store was listening intently. One could have heard a blade of dry grass fall upon the plank floor. A bee buzzed near the beer barrel.
“Much obliged, Vestor,” drawled Kaiserhalt, as if he and Tell were the best of friends. “You see, the whole thing’s pretty simple, really. I was up by the three pines, driving in my first stake, when these two”—he gestured toward Randy and Emmalee—“came riding up. He was on a horse an�
�� she rode a mule.”
“That’s not true at all!” cried Randy. “We weren’t even together.”
“Pipe down, Clay. You’ll have your chance to talk when I say so,” Tell commanded.
Kaiserhalt grinned. “They both jumped me,” he continued. “I didn’t have a chance. Broke my arm, they did, an’ tied me to a tree. It was pitiable, I tell you. Then they put in their own stakes and rode off in separate directions to claim the land I’d figured on choosing. The gal took my horse too. Reckon she ought to learn what happens to horse thievers in this here country.”
“You’re a liar!” Emmalee spat at him.
“If that’s so,” drawled Burt Pennington, standing in the crowd that was watching these proceedings, “then how come Alf rode back into Arcady aboard a decrepit mule?”
“Don’t you call my Ned any names!” blurted Myrtle Higgins, who was perched up on the cold stove for a better view.
The tension lessened for an instant as people laughed, but the levity did not last long.
“Did you take his horse or not?” Tell demanded of Emmalee.
“Yes, but I didn’t steal it,” Emmalee cried. “I only took it because I wanted to”—she realized how weak her explanation sounded—“to make my claim as fast as possible. Randy wasn’t there at all. Mr. Kaiserhalt tried to kill me with a mallet. It took a while to fight him off and tie him up. I saw some people coming toward the land I wanted, so I—”
“Took the horse?” Tell grinned.
“Yes.”
“And you alone, all by yourself, broke Alf’s arm and tied him to a tree?”
“Ain’t no woman born could do that to me.” Kaiserhalt snorted. “See? I’m the one that’s telling the truth.”
Emmalee noted that Tell did not chide the scrawny rancher for interrupting.
“It is a little difficult to believe your story, Miss Alden.” Tell smiled. “You licked a man singlehanded?”
“Emmalee’s telling the absolute truth,” Randy put in. “She did it herself. I wasn’t even around. I’d gotten there first, you see, had driven my stake, which Kaiserhalt tore out of the ground, by the way, and—”
“Your testimony’s got to be discounted.” Tell shrugged.
“And why is that?”
“Well, you and the girl are tied up together. Naturally, you’d stick up for her.”
“But—”
“Quiet. That’s my ruling, and I have the sole right of adjudication in this territory. Do I make myself clear?”
“All too clear,” said Emmalee, glaring at him.
There was no doubt in her mind that Tell was completely on the side of the ranchers. She wondered what cash had changed hands, what promises had passed lips, and how the future of Olympia would be affected thereby. She vowed to find out before it was too late.
But right now she had other problems.
“You mentioned that some people were coming toward you at the time you absconded with Alf’s horse,” Tell was addressing her. “That means there were witnesses. Who are they? Where are they?”
Emmalee looked around the store. She saw all those eyes upon her, waiting to see what would happen, what she would do. Taking the horse had seemed a good idea at the time. She hadn’t given it a second thought. But taking a man’s means of transportation, she realized, carried the same punishment as murder. Yet, she saw, most of the people were not against her. Oh, Lottie Pennington was enjoying every minute of Tell’s nasty little charade, no doubt about it. But the women in particular, even the ranchers’ women, seemed disposed to listen to what she had to say. Emmalee saw the suntanned, big-handed woman who’d exchanged harsh words with Kaiserhalt in the willow grove. That woman knew what Alf was like. And Otis, Emmalee noticed, seemed in no hurry to believe his mean-spirited comrade. Burt Pennington, however, pressed the issue.
“I hate to see a pretty little gal in trouble,” he declared loudly, “but someone who’d take a man’s horse could find it in her conscience to pull up his marker stake too.”
“When we want to hear from you, we’ll ask,” shouted Horace Torquist. “Emmalee Alden is one of my people, and my people do not practice chicanery!”
“Ho!” Pennington shot back. “That’s not what I’ve observed.”
“Are you making accusations?” Torquist demanded, trying to move closer to Pennington through the crowd.
“Maybe I should. Maybe I will, when I get the facts,” Pennington said testily.
Emmalee realized, with a sinking sensation, that Burt Pennington either knew or suspected Torquist’s strategem involving the false claims. An angry rumbling rose from the crowd.
“I’m in charge here,” bellowed Tell. ‘We’re conducting a serious inquiry and you all better shut up or get out, understand?” The people quieted but their tension remained, hanging in the air like bitter smoke. “You were saying,” he reminded Emmalee sanctimoniously, “that there may have been witnesses?”
Emmalee thought it over. Garn and Ebenezer Creel had seen Kaiserhalt attacking her. But Garn and Ebenezer weren’t there, not to mention the fact that she didn’t want to upset Randy, which any word about Garn was sure to do. She studied the crowd some more and saw Leander Rupp drinking beer at the back of the store. Rupp and his family hadn’t seen much, but they had been there.
“Mr. Rupp may have seen something,” she said, catching his glance.
Rupp looked stricken, the more so when Tell called him over to the desk. Rupp was a tall, wiry fellow with big ears and a hangdog look. He avoided Emmalee’s eyes, but she saw Kaiserhalt grinning at the man.
“All right, what’d you see?” Tell demanded of the uncomfortable farmer.
“Uh…not too much.”
“He’s the one untied me from the tree,” Kaiserhalt supplied.
“Look, what is this?” Randy asked. “When Em or I try to say something, we’re told to hold our peace. When Mr. Kaiserhalt or anyone else—”
“Hold your peace or I’ll disqualify your claims on the spot,” Tell pronounced. “I’m the law here. Get it?”
“I think so,” said Randy. “A law that takes sides.” He stared unflinchingly at Tell, who glared right back. Emmalee had sensed the fact earlier, and now she saw again how Randy was being tempered and strengthened by challenge. He had the look of a young archangel about him still, but coming into his eyes, etching itself upon his features, was the steel and self-certainty of a seraphim.
Vestor Tell sensed it, too, averted his glance, and again addressed Leander Rupp. “Speak up, man. Your testimony could decide it all. What’d you see?”
Emmalee noted that Rupp’s worried eyes immediately flashed to Kaiserhalt. He seemed to find some relief there, because he took a deep breath and spoke clearly.
“I saw the girl tie Mr. Kaiserhalt to the tree. I saw her take his horse. That’s what I saw.”
“She was alone when she tied him to the tree? That is, Mr. Clay was not around?”
“No, sir.”
“He’d already done ridden off,” Kaiserhalt pointed out. “Don’t take nothin’ for a able-bodied girl to tie me if I can’t barely move on account of a ruined wing.”
“So, Mr. Rupp, you saw her tie the man and steal his horse?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I didn’t steal it,” protested Emmalee. “It’s tied to the hitching rail right outside this store. He was trying to kill me.”
“Heh-heh.” Kaiserhalt snickered.
“And if Randy broke Mr. Kaiserhalt’s arm,” Emmalee persisted, “then why didn’t Mr. Rupp see him?”
“I wasn’t there for that,” Rupp faltered. “I didn’t see that.”
“Of course you didn’t. That’s because Randy wasn’t there.”
“That’s the truth,” said Randy.
“I broke Mr. Kaiserhalt’s arm all by myself,” said Emmalee, turning so that she could address all the people in the room. “I did it because I had to do it. He attacked me. I saw him pulling Randy’s stake out of the ground. Now that is th
e truth.”
The tension between farmers and ranchers in the store edged to a dangerous new height. “Well, well,” said Vestor Tell. “Seems we still have a passel of contradictions here. Looks like I’m gonna have to decide.”
“No little bitty woman could break my arm,” scoffed Alf.
Emmalee lost her temper. “I’m three or four inches taller than you,” she told Kaiserhalt. “I’m not so little. Get up. Let me show everybody.”
“What?” faltered Kaiserhalt.
“Get up. As a demonstration, I’ll break your other arm.”
The words took a moment to sink in, but the response was thunderous. Instantly Emmalee regretted her splenetic outburst. She had let her temperament play right into the hands of her enemies.
“Lookit how mad she gets!”
“I bet they did it, for sure.”
“An’ stealin’ the poor guy’s horse, to boot.”
“Here’s my decision,” announced Vestor Tell. “Now, anybody with ears to hear has got to realize that we can’t get no corroboration on the actual sequence of events out by the three pines. We weren’t there. I’m inclined to believe Alf Kaiserhalt…”
Something much like a groan, followed by a suspiration of rage, rose from Torquist and his farmers.
“…because Alf is clearly the wounded party in this. Just look at the poor man’s arm. But…but like I say, I wasn’t there.”
“Nice of you to admit it,” muttered Myrtle Higgins.
“So,” Tell continued, “I don’t know who pulled up whose stakes, nor how Clay and Miss Alden managed to crack Alf’s bones. So what I got to do is I got to decide this matter on the basis of in-con-tro-ver-ti-ble evidence.”
“You don’t have any!” Torquist cried.
Tell grinned at him. “Sure do,” he snapped. “The gal took Alf’s horse. He can press charges on that matter if he wants to.”
“I only care about them acres,” Kaiserhalt replied magnanimously. “I ain’t out to see a purty gal like that strung up from a cottonwood, even if she is a thief.”
The Passionate and the Proud Page 21
