The Railroad War Read online

  “I—I don’t know. He didn’t explain.”

  “And this house,” Ki went on. “Did he buy it at the same time he bought the saloon from Dutch John?”

  “Yes. I do know that.”

  “Who’s staying in the rooms downstairs, then?”

  “Some men he sent here to start the work, I guess.”

  Ki concluded that the vague answers he’d gotten so far were believable, but he could not decide whether Cheri was as honestly innocent of knowledge about her mysterious employer as she seemed to be, or whether she was playing a deeper game. He decided to risk a little further probing.

  “I’m sure you know who’s staying in those downstairs rooms, Cheri. Suppose you tell me who they are, and the kind of work they’ve come here to do.”

  Cheri’s thoughtful frown returned. “I don’t know what kind of work Frank’s planning on having them do, but I think it’s some kind of building job that he hasn’t started yet.”

  “What about the men?”

  “Oh, they come into the saloon, but they keep to themselves. I haven’t had much to do with them, because they’re a pretty rough bunch. Like—” Cheri stopped short, her eyes widening.

  Suddenly suspicious, Ki stabbed in the dark. “Like those two who tried to start a fight with us yesterday?”

  Cheri’s startled expression told Ki all he needed to know. Keeping his own face carefully blank, he asked her, “They’re both men your boss has sent here, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. “But they were just mean drunk yesterday, Ki! It wouldn’t have mattered who was passing by, they’d still have tried to make trouble!”

  Ki’s questions had confirmed his suspicions. By now he was convinced that the mysterious Frank Jeffers was an agent of the cartel. He was also sure that Cheri did not even suspect the existence of the sinister organization, and knew nothing of her boss’s connection with it. He concluded that it was time to follow the lead she’d unwittingly given him, and concentrate on Jeffers.

  “I suppose you’re right,” he said, his voice casual. “But I think I’ll keep the job I’ve got. You can see there’d always be trouble if I tried work on the same job with two men I had that run-in with yesterday.”

  Cheri nodded, frowning thoughtfully. “Yes. Yes, I can see that, Ki.” Her frown deepened and she went on, “I hope you’re not just going to disappear now. You aren‘t, are you?”

  “Of course not. But I do have to leave.”

  “Not right this minute, though,” she said. “Even if you’re wide awake by now, I promised—”

  Ki caught her wrist as Cheri reached for him, and said, “We can let your promise wait until next time, Cheri. I have work to do, and I’d hate to be responsible for your neglecting the saloon and getting into trouble with your boss.”

  “But you promise there’ll be a next time?”

  “Of course.” Ki rolled off the bed and started dressing. He went on, “I’ll be back looking for you very soon.”

  Cheri had lain back on the bed when Ki got up. She fought back a yawn before saying, “You can’t come back too soon, Ki. I can’t remember knowing a man who’s made me feel as good as I do now.” This time she yawned without trying to suppress it. “Ki, you won’t have any trouble finding your way out, will you? I’ve just got to have a little nap before I go to work.”

  “Sleep, then,” Ki told her. “I can let myself out all right.”

  Cheri was asleep before Ki left the room. He crossed the silk-draped chamber, going unerringly to the door. His mind was still on Cheri. He was thinking that he felt almost as relaxed as she did, and he was smiling as he opened the outer door and stepped onto the tiny, dark landing. Had be been as alert as usual, less relaxed, Ki’s cat-quick reflexes might have saved him, but the almost inaudible scraping of boot soles on the board floor of the landing came only a split second before the blackjack struck his head. Without a sound, Ki crumpled to the floor.

  “We’re just wasting our time poking through stuff in this dusty basement,” Captain Tinker told Jessie. “This courthouse wasn’t even built when I handed out most of those deeds. The county just had a littled shed on the back of the square, then. That jackass, Zeke Carter, might be telling the truth when he says he doesn’t know anything about them.”

  “Then why are some pages missing from those bound recordbooks the law requires him to keep?” Jessie asked.

  “People aren’t always careful, Jessie. Clerks before this one might’ve spoiled some entries, spilled ink on the pages, or something like that.”

  “Just the same, we’ve got to keep looking,” Jessie said.

  “I guess we do, at that.”

  Tinker leaned his cane against the box of papers they’d just finished sorting through. Limping the few steps necessary, he went to the corner and started dragging another of the heavy wooden crates toward the area they’d cleared to work in.

  Jessie hurried to help him. They wrestled the box into the circle of light cast by the lamp on the high wooden file case, and opened its hinged lid. Folders jammed to bursting with sheets of paper filled the case. The old captain sighed and began lifting them out and handing them to Jessie. She skimmed rapidly through the papers, finished the file, put it aside, and picked up the next one.

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you more, Jessie,” Captain Tinker apologized. “Even when I put on my spectacles, I can’t see the way I used to.”

  “I don’t mind that, but this job would be easier if whoever packed these files away had just kept the different kinds of records separate,” Jessie remarked. “They’re all mixed up—deeds, court cases, expense vouchers for the different offices, payroll lists, sheriff’s warrants, tax rolls. It’s going to take a long time to go through all of them.”

  “It’s been a long day,” Tinker agreed. “Suppose we just stop right now and start again tomorrow?” He hauled a thick, silver-cased watch from his pocket and flipped its cover open. “Five o‘clock. By the time we get home, Martha’s going to have supper on the table.”

  “That’s the best idea I’ve heard since noon,” Jessie said. “I’m sure all these boxes will still be here tomorrow.”

  “And I guess we will too,” the Captain said, blowing out the lamp.

  “Unless Ki uncovers something that will send us in another direction,” Jessie replied, standing aside to let the old man start up the stairs ahead of her.

  When Jessie and the Captain reached his house, Bobby and his mother were waiting on the porch. Sitting with them was a young man wearing jeans and a denim jacket.

  “You haven’t had time to meet all my kin,” the Captain said to Jessie as he reined in. “The young fellow’s my nephew, Martha’s brother’s boy. Jed Clemson’s his name. He works down south on the Abel ranch, when he’s not busy on the home place.”

  Bobby came running out to the buggy. “I’ll drive around to the barn and unhitch, Grandpa,” he said. “Jed’s going to stay for supper. He says he’s got something to tell you.”

  Introductions were made on the veranda, and when the formalities had been completed, Jed Clemson said, “Clegg told me you was here, Miss Starbuck. He’s the one talked to you when you stopped yesterday at the south pass. I’d sure like it if you’d tell me about your Circle Star ranch down in Texas. I guess I’ve heard Uncle Bob mention it a thousand times.”

  “You won’t have to ask me twice to talk about the Circle Star,” Jessie smiled. “It’s my favorite place.”

  “Jessie can tell you what it’s really like, too,” Tinker said. “All I told you was second-hand, things I heard about from her father.”

  Watching Jed as he listened to the Captain, Jessie put his age at within year or so of her own. He spoke softly, but his voice had a hint of the authority it might one day carry. His features were regular, he was neither handsome nor ugly. He stood tall and was well-muscled, with the capable hands and bronzed complexion of one who works hard outdoors. Jed Clemson was, she thought, the kind of man Bobby wou
ld grow into.

  When they’d moved indoors to the parlor, the Captain said, “Jed, I hear you’ve got something on your mind. Bobby told me you did, anyhow.”

  “Now don’t get started on a lot of long-winded talking,” Martha broke in before Jed could reply. “Supper’s ready to dish up, soon as Ki gets here. You can do your talking later, Captain.”

  “We don’t have to wait for Ki,” Jessie said. “He might not be here for another hour. I’m sure the Captain and Bobby and Mr. Clemson are hungry, and to tell the truth, so am I.”

  “Why don’t we go ahead, then, Martha?” the Captain said. “If Jessie’s sure Ki won’t feel slighted. And I’m sure Jed will be more comfortable if you don’t call him ‘mister.’” “That’s right,” Jed agreed.

  “Fine. And I answer better to Jessie. And Ki won’t mind a bit,” Jessie assured them. “You can keep something warm for him, Martha, if he doesn’t get here in time to join us.”

  “That won’t be a bit of trouble,” Martha said. “You and Jessie’ll want to wash, and Bobby will too, when he gets back from the barn. I’ll have supper on the table by the time you’re ready to sit down.”

  At the table, Jessie and Jed did most of the talking. He was full of questions about the Circle Star and the cross-breeding experiments that Alex Starbuck had begun and Jessie was still carrying on. Bobby broke in now and then with a comment about his brief stay there, and the Captain made an occasional remark, while Martha was silent except for her urgings to everyone to eat another bite of this or that. The meal was completed down to pie and coffee before Jessie realized that Ki still had not shown up.

  “I can’t understand why Ki’s so late,” she said. “Of course, he didn’t tell me when he planned to be back, but he never does at the ranch, either. I suppose he must have run into some sort of lead he’s trying to track down.”

  “From what I heard about him taking care of those two men at the saloon yesterday, you don’t have to worry about him,” the Captain said.

  “I’m not worried,” Jessie replied. “Ki can certainly take care of himself. But he’s also very considerate. If he hadn’t intended to be back for supper, I’m sure he’d have told Martha.”

  “Now don’t go worrying about me, either, Jessie,” Martha said. “I’ve got Ki’s supper in the oven, and it’ll stay hot till he gets here. Now, you and the Captain and Jed go on in the parlor, I know you want to talk. Bobby’s going to help with the dishes.”

  As they moved to the parlor, Jessie said to Jed, “If you’d like to talk privately with Captain Tinker, I’ll be glad to sit on the veranda and watch for Ki.”

  “I’d like for you to stay with us,” Jed replied. “Aunt Martha said you’d come here to help Uncle Bob do something about that damned—excuse me—that railroad, so I guess it concerns you about like it does us folks who live here.”

  When they’d settled into chairs in the tidy parlor, Captain Tinker began filling his pipe and said, “You might as well start unshipping your cargo, Jed. What’s got you upset?”

  “That fellow Prosser’s been out to talk to the folks again,” Jed replied. “Dad was in the fields yesterday, and I’d already started for the ranch, so he caught Mother by herself. She was so nervous when Dad got back to the house that it took him nearly an hour to get her calmed down enough to talk about it.”

  “What in tunket did Prosser say to her?” Tinker asked, scowling.

  “I don’t know that it was what he said as much as how he said it, Uncle Bob,” Jed said. “She’d settled down by the time I got home, but I could see she was still on edge.”

  “Did he threaten your mother, Jed?” Jessie asked.

  “Not in so many words, as nearly as I could make out. But he did a lot of hinting about how terrible accidents happen to people on farms. Then he said that the best thing Dad could do at his age was to move into town where he’d be safe.”

  “Did he offer to buy you folks out?” the Captain asked.

  “Not outright, Uncle Bob. To tell you the truth, I’d have run the son of—well, I’d have run him off, if I’d been there, and Dad would’ve too, if he hadn’t been out working.”

  Jessie said thoughtfully, “If he didn’t make an outright threat and link it with an offer to buy you out, I don’t think there’s much you can do, Jed.” The mantel clock struck eight as Jessie was talking, and she looked at it and said, “I can’t understand why Ki’s so late.”

  “You know, Jed,” Captain Tinker said, “I’d give up that job you’ve got out at Abel’s and stay—” He stopped short as a deep-toned bell started clamoring in the distance. “That’s the firebell! Let’s go take a look outside!”

  For a moment after they’d trooped out to the yard and begun scanning the sky, they saw no sign of a blaze. Then Bobby pointed behind the house with an excited shout, and everyone turned to look at the angry red glow that was rising.

  “Oh, my God!” Jed exclaimed. “It looks like it’s our house burning down!”

  Chapter 8

  Captain Tinker responded to Jed’s words with the swift reactions he’d acquired during long years of command.

  “You must’ve come here on your horse, Jed,” he said. “Go on, don’t wait for us. Jessie, go tell Bobby to meet me in the barn and help me harness the buggy. Tell Martha she’d best stay here. Ki might get back while we’re gone.”

  Within ten minutes of the time when they’d first heard the firebell tolling, Captain Tinker was urging his horse to greater speed while Jessie and Bobby tried to keep their seats in the buggy as it bounced, rocked, and jolted over the unpaved road in the direction of the fire.

  Other Hidden Valley residents were on the way too. The buggy passed several slower vehicles and a straggle of pedestrians; a number of men on horseback galloped past them. By the time they’d left behind the town’s last streets, the northwestern sky was a solid glare of pulsing, menacing red. Jessie could not locate the exact center of the blaze against the sky’s almost uniform hue, but with his experienced eyes, Captain Tinker had taken bearings on the location of the fire when it was young, a single blotch of red against the darkness.

  “That’s not Clemson’s house burning,” he called to his passengers. “Too far west. Most likely it’s the Garvey place.” He hauled on the reins and the buggy trembled to a stop. “Bobby, you run back and tell your mother. She’ll be worrying herself sick, thinking it might be Harry and Alice’s house.”

  Bobby opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it and hopped out of the buggy. The captain geed the horse ahead and shoehorned the buggy back into the thickening flow of vehicles that now clogged the narrow dirt road.

  Even before they turned off into the lane that led to the burning farmhouse, Jessie and the old man saw the red sky slowly fading to a malignant orange hue and growing darker as the flames consuming the dwelling began to lose intensity.

  “Too bad,” the Captain said. “House is most likely lost. They go fast, once they start. A few buckets of wellwater don’t do much good after a fire’s begun to make headway.”

  Jessie had seen fires in isolated buildings too, and knew the truth of Tinker’s words. She nodded silently, keeping her eyes on the steadily waning blaze. The vehicles ahead of them had already begun to slow down, and by the time they reached a point where they could see the burning house, only its framing timbers still burned.

  Silhouetted against the flames were the figures of men darting back and forth. Some of them had buckets, and when one of them braved the heat and ran in close to dash water on the dying red tongues, white clouds of steam arose. Beyond the house they could see other men and a few women carrying burlap sacks, and a half-dozen men with sacks had climbed to the roof of the main barn; these were busy beating out the occasional sparks and embers that the light night breeze carried toward them.

  “Lucky the wind wasn’t blowing hard. They’d have lost the barns and sheds too, if it had been,” Captain Tinker said. Then he grunted and added, “That’s little enough he
lp, with the house gone, but at least they’ll have something to start from.”

  “Are you sure they’ll rebuild?” Jessie asked.

  “Sure enough. It’s their home place.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of it that way,” she replied. “If the railroad company’s offered to buy them out, would they take the money and start over somewhere else?”

  “Would you, if that was the house on your place burning?”

  “No,” Jessie said after a moment’s thought. “No, I’m sure I wouldn’t.”

  They’d reached the point now where hastily tethered horses, wagons, buggies, and an occasional shay or closed carriage had stopped in a confused crisscross array, and the buggy could go no further. Reining in, the Captain looped the leathers around the whipsocket. He reached for his cane, and Jessie jumped nimbly from the buggy and helped the old man down. She followed him to a huddle of women who stood at one side, watching the burning framework.

  As they drew closer, Jessie saw that the group had formed around the few pieces of furniture that had been carried from the house during the first moments after the fire started. The salvage was pitifully meager. There were two or three straight chairs, a Boston rocker, a small table, a marble-topped commode, a child’s desk, a hatrack. On the ground beside the furniture, a few odds and ends of dishes and cooking utensils were scattered.

  Sitting in the rocking chair, a shawl around her shoulders, a woman was staring dry-eyed at the dying flickers of flame that still shot out thin red tongues from the few wall studs that were now all that remained of the house. Before Jessie and the Captain reached the group, they stopped and turned to look when shouts rose from the men who were still fighting the fire.

  The firefighters were running from the blaze, and they saw the reason at once. The rafters were sagging, drooping sadly downward. Within a few seconds after the first warning shout, the flaming rafters cracked with a series of small explosions like sharp pistol shots, and the heavy framing timbers, which were all that remained of the roof, crashed to the ground, dragging with them a few of the wall studs. A tower of fresh flame, studded with big sparks that glowed like bright stars against the dark sky, flared up from the fallen timbers.