It was Sue who made the connection.
“Indians!” Sue shouted. “My God, Paul, they are Indians!”
Doogan ran back into his house, then returned a moment later with a pistol. He started firing at the Indians, and Delshay returned fire. Those shots were a signal to the other Indians, and for the next several seconds the valley rang with the sound of dozens of gunshots. When the shooting stopped, Doogan, his wife, and both sons were sprawled out in the yard in front of the house. All four were dead.
On board the Western Flyer, somewhere in Kansas
Jay Peerless Bixby’s insufferable manners had continued throughout most of the trip. He grumbled constantly, complaining about everything from the frequency of the stops, to the weather, to the food that was being served in the dining car.
“Is this the extent of your carte du jour?” Bixby asked, thumping his fingers against the menu card that was on the table before him. “Beef, ham, or chicken?” Bixby said. “No lamb? No fish? Just how primitive is this railroad anyway?”
“I’m sorry, sir, these selections have proven to be most popular with our travelers,” the waiter said.
“Well, of course they would be,” Bixby replied. “No doubt in this part of the country, your passenger list is composed of nothing but country bumpkins. But I would think that you would also make provisions for those of us who have a more refined palate. You do get travelers of some sophistication from time to time, do you not?”
“I wouldn’t know, sir. I am merely a waiter,” the waiter replied.
“Yes. Well, I will have the braised sirloin tips in hopes that the chef can render it edible.”
As the trip progressed, Matt saw that Bixby’s boorish behavior wasn’t limited to the crew. He treated his wife and business manager with equal disdain. Once, when Cynthia asked Matt a question about ranching, Bixby interrupted her.
“Cynthia, please don’t try to discuss business,” he said. “It only exposes your total lack of knowledge.”
“I’m just trying to take an interest, Jay,” she replied. “If we are going to have a ranch out here, then I want to be of some value to you.”
Bixby laughed scornfully. “Your value to me, and your only value, is in your looks,” he said. “Having a beautiful wife is an asset to a successful businessman. Though I must tell you, my dear, that the moment you open your mouth to show your ignorance, that asset is nullified.”
Matt watched Cynthia’s reaction to the hateful words, amazed that Bixby either didn’t see how his words hurt her, or didn’t care. On the other hand, Hendel seemed acutely aware of the way Bixby treated Cynthia and though he didn’t say anything, he did get up and walk to the back of the car, then out onto the rear vestibule.
Matt waited for a moment, then walked out to the rear platform as well. Hendel was leaning against the railing, watching the track unwind beneath and behind as the train moved at a twenty-mile-per-hour pace.
“Mind if I join you?” Matt asked.
“Not at all, sir, not at all,” Hendel said.
Matt pulled out the makings and rolled a cigarette, then offered the makings to Hendel.
“Thank you, no,” Hendel declined. “I’ve never acquired the habit.” He chuckled. “I tried, but can’t seem to get the hang of pulling the smoke down into my lungs.”
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Matt said as he leaned into the car and, using it as a shield against the wind, snapped fire onto the end of a match with his fingernail. He lit the cigarette, tossed the spent match out onto the track, then took a puff.
“I don’t want to step on any toes here,” Matt said, “but your Mr. Bixby seems to be a difficult man to please.”
“You’ve noticed that, have you?”
Matt chuckled. “I think everyone on the train has noticed it.”
“Yes, well, Mr. Bixby can be difficult.”
“You seem to handle it well.”
“I have had years of practice,” Hendel said. He turned back to look out at the passing countryside. “It’s funny, Mr. Bixby has been complaining about the fact that the country out here is so desolate, but I find it awe-inspiring.”
“Your first time out here?”
Hendel smiled. “Yes, it is. As a matter of fact, this is my first time out of the city of New York,” he said. “You seem to be a man who is well in control of things, the manifestation of what one thinks of when one thinks of the Westerner. Do you live out here?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Oh, that’s hard to say,” Matt replied. “I’ve been just about everywhere out here, from the Canadian border all the way down to the Mexican border.”
“What is your occupation, if I may ask? I mean, what sort of job would afford a man so much opportunity for travel?”
“I’ve done a bit of everything, I reckon,” Matt replied. “I’ve been a deputy sheriff, a deputy city marshal, and a deputy U.S. marshal. I’ve scouted for the army, I’ve been a railroad detective, I’ve been a cowboy, I’ve trapped fur. I’ve even done some mining for gold and silver.”
“My, what an exciting life you must lead,” Hendel said. “You truly are the stuff of legend—the kind of man that books are written about.”
Matt smiled but said nothing, for in fact, two dime novels had already been written about his exploits.
“I must say that I not only admire you for living such an exciting life, but also for living it in such a magnificent environment.”
“If you think this is magnificent, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Matt said. “Wait until we reach the Rockies in Colorado.”
“I am looking forward to that,” Hendel said. “It almost makes it…” He paused without finishing his sentence.
“Almost makes it worth working for a man like Jay Peerless Bixby?” Matt asked.
Hendel smiled. “I didn’t say that,” he said.
“No, you didn’t, because you are too good a man, Mr. Hendel, and it doesn’t take a strong sense of observation to see that,” Matt said. He looked back into the car. “But I don’t work for Mr. Jay Peerless Bixby, and I have no such restraints. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a more insufferable man, or a more long-suffering woman. I don’t know why she puts up with him.”
“She puts up with it because she feels a sense of obligation,” Hendel said.
“A sense of obligation to who?” Matt asked.
“No who, so much as what,” Hendel replied. “She feels a sense of obligation to honor. You see, this marriage was arranged by her father. It was his last wish—or, one might say, his last command to her—before he died. I wasn’t able to talk him out of it, so the least I can do is…” Again, he left the sentence uncompleted.
“I’ll be damn,” Matt said with a chuckle. “That’s it, isn’t it? The only reason you work for Bixby is so you can look out for Cynthia.”
“I don’t know that I would put it quite that way,” Hendel said. “But I do look out for her as best I can.”
The door to the car opened and Bixby stepped outside.
“What are you two doing out here?” he asked.
“We just stepped out for a breath of air,” Hendel said.
“It stinks of smoke and ash out here. Anyway, they are about to call the first setting for dinner. I would like to eat early, then have the porter turn my bed down. I have discovered that the more I can sleep on this accursed trip, the better it is.”
“Yes,” Hendel said. “I have discovered that as well.”
Matt hid his smile.
Chapter Fifteen
Denver