"Call me Harrison."
"Guess I should if you're gonna be settling here. You got yourself a real different-sounding twang in there with your words," he added. He hastily put his hands up. "I don't mean you no insult. I'm just wondering now where you come from."
" California?" Henry guessed.
"I'm thinking Kentucky," Ghost called out.
Harrison shook his head. "I was born in Scotland and raised in England," he answered. "Across the ocean," he added in case they didn't know where those countries were located.
"The town could use a lawyer," Billie interjected. "We don't have any around these parts. If Adam Clayborne doesn't know the answer, then we got to go all the way to Hammond to get the help we need. Hanging Judge Burns will be happy to have you around. He gets upset when he has to work with… what does he call us?" he asked Dooley.
"Ignorant."
"That's the word. If you ask me, the law's gotten mighty tricky. There are too many papers to file with the government."
"Ain't that the truth," Ghost called out. "Getting a piece of land used to be easy. You just squatted there and it was yours. Now you got to pay money and fill out papers."
"So you going to settle here then? I'll bet Morrison will rent out the storefront across the street from his store. You could put your shingle out and maybe earn a couple of dollars every month."
Harrison shrugged. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet. I might settle down here, and then again, I might not. It's too soon to tell."
"You got enough money to hold you over until you decide?" Henry asked.
Harrison knew better than to admit he was carrying money.
"No," he answered. "I don't suppose I have enough to last more than a couple of days."
"You'll get along," Dooley advised. "You're big and you got muscle. You can always hire out and work to keep food on your table."
"That's what I figured," Harrison lied.
"What exactly are you doing in Blue Belle?" Billie asked. "I know it isn't any of my business, but I'm curious to know. You mind telling us, mister?"
"Call me Harrison," he said again. "I don't mind telling why I'm here. I'm on what I'm pretty certain is a wild-goose chase. At least the man I work for believes my trip will end up running after a dream."
"You already got yourself a job?" Dooley asked.
"I've taken a temporary leave."
"So you could end up staying here. Is that the way of it?" Henry asked.
"I suppose I could."
"I say you should stay," Billie announced. "Don't work for anyone but yourself. That's our way. You don't have to answer to anyone."
"You mind answering a question about the law?" Ghost asked.
"What is it you want to know?"
"I'm thinking hard about stealing a horse," Ghost announced. He stood up and walked over to the table. "The fella I'm thinking about robbing stole my woman years back, so, the way I see it, I ain't really doing nothing wrong. The law's on my side, right?"
Harrison leaned back in his chair. He stopped himself before he smiled. The question was amusing, but he didn't want Ghost to think he was laughing at him.
"Sorry to disappoint you," he said. "Pride might be on your side, but the law isn't."
Dooley slapped his hand down on the tabletop and let out another hoot of laughter. "That's what I told him," he announced in a near shout. "Pride will get him hung by the vigilantes if he steals Lloyd's horse."
Ghost didn't like Harrison 's answer. He walked away from the table muttering to himself. His question opened the door for others, however, and for the next hour, Harrison dispensed free legal advice. Although he'd been educated at Oxford and had done his apprenticeship in England, he also worked for a man who owned two manufacturing plants. Because the company regularly shipped to the American east coast, Harrison had had to familiarize himself with the laws regulating export and import.
The difference between the way the law was interpreted by the courts in England and in America fascinated him. He tirelessly pored over any material about unusual decisions and cases that he could get his hands on.
His associates thought it was dry reading indeed, especially the older cases he'd wanted to discuss with them. He was told it was boring material at best, and it reminded them of all the mandatory reading they'd had to suffer through while at university. Harrison didn't agree. He loved reading the philosophers, especially Plato, and he enjoyed reading the opinions of the scholars who founded his country's government as well. But most of all, he loved the law. The discipline of the court system appealed to him. He thought it was imperative to keep up with all the latest decisions so that he could eventually become one of the best in his field. Good wasn't enough for him. Harrison strove for excellence in everything he undertook. Unfinished puzzles drove him crazy. Whatever he started, he finished.
His passion for the law and his compassion for his fellow man had made him unpopular in many circles. Because he worked for the powerful Lord Elliott, he had never actually been blackballed, although he'd certainly come close on several occasions, and all because he took on unpopular cases. He was rapidly getting a reputation for being a champion of the less fortunate in London 's slums. He hadn't set out to become anyone's champion, of course, and if anyone had told him at school that he would eventually become a criminal lawyer, even on a part-time basis, Harrison would have thought he was out of his mind.
The unsought distinction had cost him his engagement to Lady Edwina Horner, who informed him in a letter that she couldn't abide being married to a scandal-setter, whatever in God's name that meant. Men who still called themselves his friend tried to warn him that he had to get over his ridiculous notion that the poor in England should be entitled to the same rights as the rich. Harrison, however, refused to accept such an elitist, self-serving view.
"Maybe them laws in England are different from our laws," Ghost suggested. He strolled back across the room and gave Harrison a hopeful look. "I'm thinking that maybe I wouldn't get hanged, if I stole the horse, because Lloyd started the dirt first."
Harrison shook his head. Ghost, it appeared, wasn't ready to give up his plan.
"I've studied enough American law to know you'll still be found guilty."
"Even though he wasn't on the square and he started the dirt first?"
While Harrison wasn't familiar with either of those odd expressions, he still felt he was giving sound advice. "Even so."
Another round of questions followed. All the curious who'd started out watching him from across the saloon had filed over to Harrison 's table and now formed a half circle. None of them seemed to be in any particular hurry to get on with their day.
The doors to the saloon suddenly flew open. "Miss Mary's coming. Cole's riding behind her."
The man who shouted the announcement bounded off at a trot down the walkway.
The reaction to the news was astonishing to witness. Every single one of the men jumped to his feet and ran outside. Dooley was almost knocked to his knees in the stampede. He eventually regained his balance and turned back to Harrison.
"Ain't you coming along? You ought to at least take a peek at our Miss Mary. She's worth your time."
Because Dooley might have thought it peculiar if Harrison hadn't shown an interest, he got up from the table and followed the old man out the doorway. Harrison wasn't in any hurry to meet the young woman, however, and Dooley was already down the block and halfway across the street before Harrison reached the hitching post in front of the corner building.
His hunt could very well end in just a few minutes. Harrison was suddenly filled with all sorts of conflicting emotions. He had made a promise to Lord Elliot that this adventure would be his last attempt to solve this puzzle, and if Elliot turned out to be correct, then traveling all this distance had been just another wild-goose chase.