“Have you heard anything on the westbound? It’s supposed to arrive at eleven o’clock,” Streeter said. “Is it on time?”
“Yes, sir, we received a telegram about an hour ago,” the man replied. “It should arrive exactly on time.”
“Thanks.”
Streeter took a seat in the waiting room, all the while maintaining a close eye on the clock. At exactly three minutes before the train was due, he stepped out onto the platform. At many of the smaller towns, Streeter knew, the arrival and departure of the trains was always a major event, and sometimes almost half the town would turn out, even for a train arriving as late as this one.
But Cheyenne was big enough that several trains passed through each day, and the population had grown sufficiently jaded that the arrivals and departures went mostly unnoticed except by those who had business with them. Roy Streeter stood on the platform with but a handful of others.
He could hear the train—a distant mournful whistle, followed by a chugging sound of working steam— before he could see it. Then the train appeared around the curve in the track a quarter of a mile east of the station. Initially all that could be seen was its large, mirrored headlamp projecting an insect-filled beam into the darkness before it.
The train chased the beam of light on into the station and rolled by with steam venting from the drive cylinders and flaming coals falling from the firebox to leave a glowing path between the rails. With a pipe clenched between his teeth, the engineer was leaning out of the window looking ahead for the mark to stop. The train ground to a halt, but it wasn’t quiet as steam continued to be vented, and hot journals and bearings made clicking sounds as they cooled.
Three cars back from the engine, the conductor stepped down, then took out his pocket watch and examined it in order to determine how long the train could sit in the station. A porter jumped down and placed a stool by the bottom step of the passenger car, then he stood by ready to offer assistance to anyone who might need it. Finally the arriving passengers began to step down.
Streeter held up a sign he’d printed out—POINDEXTER—when he saw two men approaching him. Unlike Streeter, who was wearing denim trousers and a red flannel shirt, the men coming toward him were wearing suits and bowler hats.
“I am Jacob Poindexter,” said one of the two men. “Would you be Mr. Streeter?”
“Yes.”
Jake smiled. “Ah yes, Mr. Jamison told me that I could count on you to handle things for me.”
“Yes, sir, I got the telegram.”
“And you have assembled the men?”
“Yes, sir, I done that too. I told ’em to meet us at the Railroad Hotel for breakfast tomorrah mornin’. I kinda suggested that you’d be buyin’ the breakfast.”
“I see no reason why I can’t. Oh, by the way, may I introduce a new friend? This is Ed Collins. We met on the train. He has agreed to come to work for me as my executive assistant.”
“It’s good to meet you, Mr. Collins,” Streeter said, extending his hand.
Chapter Nine
Instead of going out to his ranch, Duff had spent the night in town. He wanted make sure Meagan was recovering from her wound without any difficulty. He also intended to go to the bank the next morning so he could transfer funds to Meagan’s and Elmer’s accounts.
Elmer had come into town early. While they were waiting for the bank to open, Duff, Meagan, and Elmer were having breakfast at Vi’s Pies. Owned by Vi Winslow, an attractive widow in her midforties, it was a full-service restaurant, but she was known for her pies. Thus the name of her establishment.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Elmer asked Meagan.
“I’m feeling well, thank you. My upper arm is a little sore, but it isn’t too bad.”
“I’ve been shot a few times my ownself so I know what it feels like,” Elmer said.
Just as they were finishing their breakfast, Vi came over to the table with a small box, which she set before Elmer. “It’s an apple pie.”
“You’re givin’ me an apple pie?”
“Oh, no, I bought the pie for Mrs. Willis,” Meagan said. “She’s the lady who tended to me after I was shot. I thought it would be a nice gesture and I was hoping you would deliver the pie for me.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Elmer said. “Good-lookin’ woman, is she?”
“Elmer!” Vi said, snatching the pie away from him.
“Now, Vi, you know that I ain’t got eyes for nobody but you.”
“That’s more like it,” Vi said with a smile as she put the pie in front of him again.
“I mean, it ain’t that you’re all that good-lookin’ but that don’t really matter none, ’cause I ain’t never knowed anyone that could make pies as good as you do.”
Vi laughed and shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”
After breakfast Duff, Meagan, and Elmer walked down to the bank where Duff verified that the money had been wire transferred and arranged for Meagan’s and Elmer’s percentages to be deposited into their personal accounts.
“I must get back to the dress shop,” Meagan said.
“And I need to get this pie delivered,” Elmer added.
The departure of his two friends left Duff alone so he stepped down to Fiddler’s Green. It was too early for him to have an alcoholic drink, but Biff served hot coffee all morning, and it was a good way to catch up with things before he returned to Sky Meadow.
Biff was sitting at a table with Fred Matthews, owner of the mercantile, and Charley Blanton, editor of the Chugwater Defender.
“Hey, Duff, come over here and listen to this,” Biff called out.
“Listen to what?” Duff asked.
“Charley says we’re gettin’ us a railroad.”
“What?”
“It came over the AP wire this morning,” Charley said. “I haven’t put the paper out yet, but I have written the article if you’d like to read it.”
“Aye, I would like to read it.”
Chugwater to Get Railroad
Poindexter Railroad and Maritime Corporation has announced its intention to build the C&FL Railroad, a feeder line that would connect Cheyenne with Fort Laramie. And though the railroad would be a tremendous asset to the U.S. Army at Fort Laramie, it would also be a boon for the towns of Walbach, Chugwater, and Uva through which sites the railroad would run.
According to the announcement, Jacob Poindexter will be in charge of the operation. This newspaper has not heard directly from the Poindexter Corporation, nor from Mr. Jacob Poindexter, but the Bank of Chugwater has received a rather substantial deposit in Mr. Poindexter’s name.
“This is great news!” Duff said.
“If the money is on deposit here, that means that this Poindexter person will more ’n likely make his headquarters here, don’t you think?” Biff asked.
“Aye, that seems likely,” Duff replied.
“Well now, that’s going to be very good for the town,” Biff said. “And I mean even before the railroad gets built. If Chugwater is going to be the headquarters, there’s going to be a lot of business done here.”
“I wonder when he’ll get here.”
“Soon, I hope.” Charley smiled. “This won’t just be good business for the commercial enterprises in town. I can see news copy coming from this for the next six months or so.”
“We should call a town meeting,” Fred Matthews said.
“What for?” Biff asked.
“If we’re going to have a railroad coming through town, and especially if we are going to be the headquarters for the railroad, there’s a lot of things we can do to get ready for them. And to help them, if that’s needed.”
“I agree. Where can we hold it?” Charley asked.
“Well, if we’re going to have a meeting, how about right here at Fiddler’s Green?” Duff suggested.
“You would have to close the bar during the meeting,” Fred said to Biff.
“That’s all right. If you had the meeting somewhere else, it’s
more ’n likely there wouldn’t be that many people in the bar anyway. This way as soon as the meeting’s over, people will be wantin’ to have a drink to celebrate. And if we really are goin’ to get a railroad, that will be somethin’ worth celebrating.”
“Good. I’ll put the announcement in the paper.” Charley said.
* * *
Charley put the announcement in the same edition of the paper in which he ran the story about the railroad being built. Even those who hadn’t read the announcement soon learned of it, as news of the town meeting spread quickly, so quickly that by two o’clock the next afternoon, the scheduled time and day of the meeting, well over a hundred people had gathered at the saloon.
Several of the local businessmen were present. Several women were in attendance, too, mostly those who were businesswomen. Biff’s wife Rose was sitting with Meagan. Like Duff, Rose was Scottish, though the two had never met until after Duff had arrived in Chugwater.
Duff and Elmer were sitting with several valley ranchers who, because they didn’t represent the town, chose to sit together in a rather large group.
Brad Houser of Twin Peaks noticed Reverend E. D. Sweeny of the Church of God’s Glory was also present. “Preach, ain’t you somewhat a-skeert that God’s goin’ to send a lightnin’ bolt to strike you down for bein’ in a saloon? I mean in case you ain’t heard, you bein’ a preacher man ’n all, the sergeant major does serve spirits in this place,” he teased.
“I’m quite aware than Mr. Johnson serves liquor here. But my boy, from what I have read in the Bible, Jesus didn’t turn water into sody pop,” Sweeny replied, and those within hearing distance laughed.
“Reverend Sweeny, would you be so kind as to say a prayer to get us started?” asked Mayor C. E. Felker, who was known to most as “Daddy.”
“Now, Daddy, why’d you go ’n do that?” Jonas Perkins of the JP Ranch asked. “We come here to talk about gettin’ us a railroad, not to listen to some long-winded sermon.”
“Lord!” Reverend Sweeny began, saying the word loud enough to preclude any further discussion on the subject, “let us conduct this meeting with hope, courtesy, and understanding. Amen.”
“That’s it?” Perkins said. “All right, Preach, you done just fine. Now, let’s get on with the meetin’. Who’s goin’ to conduct it?”
“How about Daddy Felker? He’s the mayor,” Biff suggested from his spot behind the bar.
“All right,” Mayor Felker replied. “This meeting is underway.”
“I have a question,” liveryman Lonnie Mathers asked. “Has anyone actually seen this Jake Poindexter person? Or heard from him?”
“We haven’t met him, nor heard from him personally,” said Bob Dempster, the new banker ever since Joel Montgomery had moved to Big Rock, Colorado. “But I can attest to the fact that twenty-five thousand dollars has been deposited in the bank with Jacob Poindexter being the one authorized to access the account. The money was deposited by wire, and he won’t be able to draw any money from it until he comes in and physically opens the account, so I think we can be reasonably certain that he will be here.”
“Is he actually coming to build a railroad?” Fred Matthews asked.
“The name on the account is Cheyenne and Fort Laramie Railroad,” Dempster said.
“Gentlemen,” Daddy Felker said, then corrected himself. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would say that is all the proof we need that the P R and M Corporation has every intention of building a railroad right through Chugwater. As we are about halfway between Cheyenne and Fort Laramie, it stands to reason that we will be the focus of the entire operation.”
“I have an idea,” Mathers said. “Suppose we find an office and make it available to Poindexter while he’s here.”
“What if he doesn’t want to rent an office?” Perkins asked. “He may have other plans for the money.”
“No, you don’t understand. When I say we make an office available to him, I mean we will pay the rent.”
“Why would we want to do a thing like that?” Brad Houser asked.
“To show him that we welcome him and will do all that we can to help bring the railroad into fruition,” Daddy Felker said.
“Good idea,” Marshal Ferrell said. “I agree.”
“There is an empty office next to mine that you can use. I was thinking of using it as a legal library.” Martin Gilmore was the lawyer who had defended Drury Slocum. No one held that against him though, as he had been appointed to the position by the court.
“You shouldn’t have to come up with it all by yourself,” Charley Blanton said. “The rest of us can pitch in and help with the rent.”
Gilmore held up his hand and smiled. “That won’t be necessary. He is going to need a lawyer and this will put me in good with him.”
“Mr. Mayor,” Meagan said.
“Yes, Miss Parker?”
“I think we should have a reception for him.”
“A reception?”
“Yes, perhaps dinner, a few words to let him know that he is welcome, and maybe even a dance.”
“You’re not plannin’ on that bein’ just for all the highfalutin’ businessmen in town are you?” asked David Lewis, owner of the Trail Back. “I know my hands out at the ranch would very much like to come to such a thing.”
“As the railroad will be for everyone, the reception should also be for everyone,” Meagan said.
“Then that is exactly what we will do,” Charley Blanton said.
“Does anyone have any idea when Poindexter plans to arrive in Chugwater?” Daddy Felker asked.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Charley offered.
Corporate office of P R and M Corporation
Jamison stepped into Preston Poindexter’s office, carrying a little yellow sheet of paper. “We have heard from your son,” he said.
Preston got a worried look on his face. “Oh, he’s all right, isn’t he?”
“Yes, sir, I think he is doing just fine.” Jamison started to hand the telegram to his employer, but Preston waved it away.
“No, read it to me if you would, please.”
Jamison cleared his throat and began to read. “Chugwater citizens pleased stop offered help stop having reception, stop. Jake.”
“How about that?” Preston said. “They are giving a reception. Jake is representing us quite well, don’t you think, Norman?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
CHUGWATER WELCOMES JAKE POINDEXTER AND THE C&FL RAILROAD
The banner stretched across Clay Avenue fluttered in the breeze as Mayor Felker extended the welcome of the town. “Mr. Poindexter,” he said to the young man who occupied a position of honor on the platform, “as mayor of the city of Chugwater I want to extend the welcome of our citizens to you and to your associates.” He nodded toward Roy Streeter and the seven men who were standing in the front row with him.
“We are honored to have our town be selected to play such a prominent role in the construction of the new railroad, and we will do everything we can to make P R and M Corporation’s investment in time and money profitable for the company and beneficial to the residents of Chugwater and Laramie County.
“And now if you would sir, we would like to invite you to say a few words.”
“Hear, hear!” someone shouted from the crowd as the young guest of honor stepped out to the front of the platform.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the fair city of Chugwater, my associates and I thank you for this warm welcome. Over the next few weeks you will be seeing a lot of us as we begin laying out the route for the Cheyenne and Fort Laramie Railroad. Such an operation, requiring the acquisition of land as it must, may from time to time cause a bit of disagreement to arise between us, but when we consider the greater good for all parties involved, I’m absolutely certain we will be able to resolve any differences that may come up.”
* * *
The reception was held in the ballroom of the Dunn Hotel, and at the moment Colonel Gerald Royal was in convers
ation with Duff and several others. As Commandant of Fort Laramie, the colonel had accompanied the Sixth U.S. Infantry Band to take part in the welcome reception.
“It will be a fine thing to have a railroad connect the fort with the Union Pacific,” Colonel Royal said. “To tell the truth, the post is so isolated between the Northern Pacific north of us, and the Union Pacific to our south that I don’t how much longer we’ll be able to keep Fort Laramie open.”
“You know something I was wondering about, Mr. Poindexter, is why are you stopping at Fort Laramie?” Charley Blanton asked. “Wouldn’t it be more productive to extend the railroad and connect the Union Pacific with the Northern Pacific?”
“That’s a very good question and I’m sure that it will be eventually. But we would have to negotiate connecting rights with the Northern Pacific, and for now we only have connecting rights with the U.P. We will go ahead and make that connection as soon as possible, but in the meantime we are going to have to acquire, by land grants and eminent domain, the right-of-way for the track that we will be laying.”
“Eminent domain?” asked Merlin Goodman. Owner of Mountain Shadow Ranch, he’d sat with Duff and other ranchers at the town meeting. “What is that?”
“It means that we have the right to buy any land we need to secure the right-of-way, and the current land owner cannot refuse to sell to us.”
“The hell you say! What if you decide you want to buy Mountain Shadow, and I don’t want to sell it?”
“If you refuse to sell it, the government will confiscate the land and give it to me.” Jake explained.
“You mean just take the land?” Perkins asked.
“Oh, it’s not quite as bad as that. The government won’t take your land without paying you something for it.”
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