“Cap’n comes a little easier to me,” Elmer said.
Pete chuckled. “That’s all right, Elmer. I haven’t been called Captain in a long time, and to tell the truth, sometimes I miss it. So you can call me Captain if you wish.”
“Meagan, you said a moment ago that I have thought of everything. But there is one thought I wish I could get rid of. The thought of what we might find when we get there bothers me. I’m very worried about Jake. I just hope that he . . . that they . . .” Pete was unable to complete his sentence.
“Pete, if it’s of any comfort to you, I have a feeling that the lad is still alive,” Duff said. “I’ve nae evidence of that, but the feeling is quite strong.”
“Oh, I pray that you are right.”
“I’ve been around Duff for a long time, Cap’n, ’n whenever he gets one o’ them feelin’s, why, it most generally is right. If he says your boy is still alive, I’d be willin’ to bet a lot of money that he is.”
“I learned to put my trust in you a long time ago, Bosun, so I have no compunctions about doing so now. I’m going to assume that Jake is still alive somewhere. To assume otherwise is too terrible to contemplate.”
“’Tis my thinking, Pete, they must keep your son alive so that they can continue to have a way to get the money from you,” Duff said.
“Yes, that would be true, wouldn’t it? I shall cling to that thought,” Pete replied.
There was a rap at the door and when Elmer opened it, one of the yard workers was standing on the platform.
“Excuse me, sir, but you folks might want to brace yourselves. We’re about to make the connection.”
Elmer stepped out onto the platform and watched the train approach, holding on to the rail when contact was made. Working quickly, the yardman who had given the notice connected the coupler, the airbrake hose, and the wire to provide electricity to the car. That done he stepped out to give a signal, and the train started forward.
Chugwater
“Hey, Collins, we got a telegram from Dixon,” Streeter said.
“I’ve told you a hundred times to call me Mr. Poindexter,” Collins replied. “As long as we can keep these yokels thinking I’m Jake Poindexter, we can continue to take their land and Poindexter’s money. Let me see the telegram.”
MACCALLISTER BRINGING SOMEONE TO CHUGWATER FOR OBSERVATION STOP WILL REASON WITH HIM AND OTHERS STOP DIXON
“Someone coming here for observation,” Dusty Caldwell said. “What do you think that means?”
“I think it means that he is bringing Poindexter to Chugwater.”
“What do you mean? Poindexter is already here. We got him locked up out at the line cabin.”
“I’m talking about the senior Poindexter.”
“Oh! That ain’t good, is it? What will we do about it?” Caldwell asked.
Collins pointed to the telegram. “Hopefully, we won’t have to do anything about it. The issue will be resolved before the train gets here. Dixon will take care of it.”
“You mean reason with him? What makes Dixon think that the old man will reason with him?”
Collins chuckled. “Tell me, Dusty, suppose Dixon sent a telegram that read ‘I will kill MacCallister, Poindexter, and the others.’ That telegram would have to go through several terminals before getting here. How do you think the telegraphers would have handled it?”
“I expect they would have told the law.”
“So, Dixon used the word reason instead.”
“Oh, yeah, I see that now,” Caldwell replied with a broad smile. “That’s pretty smart of you to figure somethin’ like that out.”
“Thank you for your vote of confidence.”
“What are we goin’ to do with Jake Poindexter?” Streeter asked.
“Who is with him now?”
“Bo Hawken is with him right now. Butrum was, but him ’n Hawken have been tradin’ off, night ’n day, so that one person won’t neve have to be there for the whole twenty-four hours.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Collins replied.
“If you ask me, I think we should just kill ’im, ’n be done with it.”
“But I haven’t asked you, have I? I think it best serves our purpose to keep him alive. There may well come the time when would need to use him as a bargaining chip,” Collins said.
“A bargaining chip for what?”
“For our lives,” Collins said simply.
* * *
It had once been a line cabin on the Trail Back Ranch. At least six miles from the main house, it was perfect for their use. David Lewis, owner of Trail Back, had abandoned it even before the C&FL railroad had confiscated the land as part of the land grant procedure. It had been long empty when Collins’s men discovered it, and it was there they had taken unsuspecting Jake Poindexter as their prisoner.
Jake had come west because he wanted adventure. Well, he was getting a lot more adventure than he ever wanted or had even imagined.
He was aware that Ed Collins was behind it. Collins had seemed like such a nice guy on the train. Jake had told him who he was and why he was coming west. He had even harbored the idea of offering Collins a job, and not just any job, but a job as second in command. He had it in mind that Collins could be his second in command and in fact, could even take over as supervisor of the C&FL once the railroad was completed.
But Collins had other ideas.
As Jake thought about it, he was certain that meeting Collins on the train had not been a chance encounter. Collins knew who he was, and not just because they had played football on opposing teams. He didn’t know how, but Collins had prior knowledge that Jake was on his way to Chugwater to build a railroad. Jake was certain that Collins had arranged the meeting and, somehow, was taking advantage of the situation. But why had he done it? Was Collins building his own railroad? How could that be? Jake knew for a fact that the fees had already been paid and exclusive connection rights to the Union Pacific Railroad were already granted to the P R and M Corporation, by way of the C&FL Railroad. Without that connection, what good would it do Collins to build his own railroad?
Jake, who was used to living in a huge house, had been a prisoner in the shack for over four weeks, guarded night and day. Less than half the size of his room at his father’s house, it had neither electricity nor running water. The bed was an uncomfortable tick mattress with no sheets and only one blanket. Although the days were quite warm, uncomfortably so, the nights were quite cool, and the one blanket did little to push away the cold.
“Hey, you, Poindexter,” Hawken said.
“What do you want, Hawken?”
“Fry us up some bacon, ’n warm up some o’ them beans.”
“Bacon and beans,” Jake said. “We have had the same thing to eat every meal since I have been here. Wouldn’t you like to have something else?”
Hawken chuckled. “You may o’ noticed that me ’n Butrum has been takin’ turns guardin’ you, ’n when I ain’t the one that’s here a-lookin’ out over you, I do get me somethin’ else to eat.”
Jake walked over to the wood-burning stove and started to build a fire. Before he had been captured he had never before cooked, nor had he ever even built a fire. He chuckled as he thought about it. If he managed to get out of this situation alive, he would have accumulated a lot of new skills.
“How long are you people planning on keeping me here?” he asked.
“That’s up to Collins. I ain’t got no say in it.”
“Why are you taking orders from Collins?”
“’Cause he’s the boss, that’s why.”
Jake flipped over the four strips of bacon. “Here’s what I don’t understand. If you are going to be an outlaw and whatever it is you are engaged in now is certainly against the law, then why not work for yourself? What is the advantage to being an outlaw if you have to follow orders from someone else?”
“I, uh, why don’t you just shut up ’n pay attention to your cookin’?” Hawken said.
Jake chuckle
d. “I’ve made you think, haven’t I? At least to the degree you are capable of doing so. However, it is quite likely that cerebration may be beyond your capability.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. How much longer on the bacon? I’m gettin’ hungry.”
“It’s just about done,” Jake said.
“Yeah, well, you just do your cookin’ ’n shut up, unless you’re tired of livin’.”
Jake laid the bacon on two plates, then spooned out the beans. “I have no fear of your threats, Hawken. If Collins wanted me dead, I would already be dead. He wants me alive for some reason, and as you said earlier, you are taking orders from him. Now, I shall ask you again. Do you want a biscuit?”
“Yeah.”
Jake took the two plates over to the small table, then sat down across from Hawken. He bowed his head.
“What is it you’re doin’?”
“I’m saying a blessing for my food.”
“How come you ain’t sayin’ it out loud, so’s it can go for both of us?” Hawken asked.
“Why should I do that, Hawken? I don’t give a damn about your soul. I expect God has already consigned you to hell. Why should I do anything to stop it?”
Chapter Twenty-four
Back in Chugwater, Collins was at Fiddler’s Green sharing a table with Streeter, Nichols, and Butrum.
“Whose turn is it that’s supposed to be on watch tomorrow?” Nichols asked.
“I’ll have him tomorrow, ” Butrum said. “Damn, it’s all I can do to spend one day in that line shack. I don’t know how he’s been able to stay there this long without goin’ crazy.”
“You talk too much, Butrum,” Collins chastised. “If this thing is going to work out for us, we have to watch what we’re saying.”
“Yeah, I know. I won’t say nothin’ like that again.”
“See that you don’t. And make sure you are there by seven in the morning.”
“It’s damn near an hour’s ride, which means I’ll have to get up really early. Hell, who would put a line cabin at the foot of the damn cliff anyway?”
“When your watch is up, you’ll want to be relived on time, won’t you?” Collins challenged.
“Yeah, I will.”
“Then don’t you think Hawken would want that as well? You will be on time tomorrow.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ll be there. I always have been. I was just talkin’ some, is all.”
“Sometimes you talk too much.”
Kay Greenly was sitting at a nearby table, having been invited to share a drink with Mutt Malloy and Irv Calhoun, cowboys who rode for the Trail Back brand. In between her “professional flirtations” with Mutt and Irv, she had been listening to the conversation between Collins, who she still thought of as Poindexter, and the railroad police who worked for him.
What did Butrum mean when he said that it was his time to keep an eye on him? Who was him, and why were they keeping an eye on him? she wondered.
“. . . purtiest girl in town, ’n that’s a fact,” Mutt was saying.
Kay had not caught the first part of his comment, but she had heard enough to respond. Mutt was smiling and holding his beer mug out toward her, obviously having just proposed a toast.
“Why, Mutt, you don’t expect me to drink a toast to myself, do you? That would be very inappropriate.”
Mutt laughed. “All I said was, here’s to the purtiest girl in town. What makes you think I was talking about you?”
Kay flashed a big, coquettish smile, then lay her finger along the dimple that had appeared in her cheek. “Why, Mutt, if you don’t think I’m the prettiest girl in town, why aren’t you sitting with the one you think is?”
“Haw!” Irv said. “I reckon she got you there, Mutt. ’N Miss Kay, I do think you’re the purtiest girl in town.”
“Me too,” Mutt said quickly. “I was just funnin’ her, that’s all.”
Kay listened to as much of the conversation of the railroad people at the next table as she could, all the while making herself good company for Mutt and Irv. Then, after Collins, Streeter and Nichols left, leaving only Butrum behind, she asked Mutt and Irv the question that had been bothering her.
“Do either one of you know anything about a deserted cabin that’s, oh, say about four or five miles from town?”
“Five miles from town?” Mutt replied. “What are you lookin’ for a cabin that far from town for? ’N what would you do iffen you was to live there? You wouldn’t be able to come into town ever’ day to work here, that’s for sure.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Butrum react to her question, and she knew she may have made a mistake in asking it.
“Why, Mutt, if I had my own place somewhere, I believe I could make a really good living.”
“You ain’t talkin’ farmin’ or ranchin’, are you?”
Kay reached across the table to touch Mutt’s cheek and smiled. “There are other ways for a girl to make a living.”
“I tell you what, missy,” Butrum called over from his table. “If you go into business for yourself, I want to know about it. I might come visit you my ownself.”
“It won’t be cheap,” Kay replied.
“That don’t matter none. I got money,” Butrum said.
Kay breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that Butrum’s interest in her question about a deserted cabin was prurient. But she still wondered who they were watching over, and why and where they were doing it.
Chapter Twenty-five
It had been a little over two hours since they left Grand Central Depot, and though it was dark outside, the interior of the Emma Marie was brightly illuminated, not only by the sconce lamps on the walls, but by the electric chandelier suspended from an oak-paneled ceiling to light the seating area.
“This is the most glamorous trip I have ever taken.” Meagan was sitting on one end of the sofa with her legs drawn up under her.
Duff was sitting on the other end of the same sofa and Elmer and Poindexter were sitting in chairs, facing them.
Pete had just uncorked a bottle of wine, and he held it out for their inspection. “Penfolds Magill Estate Shiraz Adelaide Hills, 1850,” he said. “It’s an Australian wine that I discovered while I was still at sea, and I’ve come to appreciate it.” He poured some of it into a glass, swirled it around to test its nose, then took a swallow. “Ah, yes. Excellent. I’m sure you will enjoy it.”
He poured for Meagan first, and the red wine in her glass caught a beam of light from the nearby sconce lamp then sent out a flash of fire.
When all were served, he raised his glass. “To a successful resolution of the difficulties in Chugwater.”
Duff thought to add and to the rescue of Jake, but Poindexter was already convinced that Jake was still alive, and Duff decided that was best.
“Did you and Elmer ever serve together on any ship, other than the Appalachia?” Meagan asked.
“No, ma’am, but were together on that ship for four months, then an additional three months on Howland Island,” Pete replied.
“’N we were a crew, even if we were on an island,” Elmer added. “Oh, ’n Cap’n, here’s somethin’ you may not know. Duff has also been a sailor.”
“Aye, but not like you two. ’Twas only one voyage I made. I stowed away on a ship in Scotland, ’n when I offered to pay my passage, the ship’s captain said I should work my way across. So, my sailing days are for one crossing only.”
“That wouldn’t have been the Hiawatha, would it?” Pete asked.
“Aye, the Hiawatha it was,” Duff said, surprised by the comment. “’N would you be for tellin’ me how it is that you know such a thing?”
“Captain Powell told me the story of a Scotsman who sneaked aboard his ship at the Firth of Clyde. Would that be you?”
“Aye, for that was the captain, ’n that was where I boarded ship.”
“Gabe Powell said that he was prepared for you to be a dullard, but that you turned out to be the best sailor on the voyage
.”
“’Twas kind of the captain to say such a thing. I did as well as I could, but I would nae be for saying that I was the best.”
“I own the Hiawatha now,” Pete said. “And Gabe Powell is commodore of the P R and M’s entire fleet.”
“I wish I had known he was in New York, ’twould have been good to see him again.”
“Oh,” Meagan said. “We’re slowing down.” She looked through the window, but because it was dark outside and brightly lit inside, she saw nothing but their reflections.
“We’ll be coming to a stop in a moment. We’re halfway between White Horse Station and Lebanon, and here we’ll take on water,” Pete explained.
“You know where we are even though it’s dark outside and you can’t see?” Meagan asked.
“It isn’t necessary to see, my dear. It’s a matter of time and distance,” Pete said.
Elmer chuckled. “I told you, the cap’n is a jimdandy of a navigator.”
* * *
Three cars ahead, Dixon was also looking through the window. The closeness and the ambient light enabled him to see the water tower. “This is where we get off,” he said as soon as the train stopped.
He, Kluge, O’Malley, and Quinn stepped out onto the platform between the cars and jumped down. Though none of the men were wearing holsters, all four pulled out pistols as they moved quickly through the darkness, back to where Poindexter’s brightly lit private car sat attached to the rear of the train.
“You sure that car’s goin’ to be left when the train pulls out?” Kluge asked. “’Cause if it ain’t there, we’re goin’ to look pretty foolish bein’ left behind with the car ’n the whole train gone.”
“There he is,” Dixon said, pointing to a shadowy figure between the front of the private car and the back of the train.
The man leaned over the couplings for a moment, then he hurried up alongside the train and climbed back on board.
“All right, boys, it looks to me like it’s been done. All we have to do is get ready.”
“Wait a minute,” Quinn said. “If it’s all disconnected like you say it is, how come all the lights is still on?”
Killer Take All Page 17
