Looking down, the clerk saw her. “Yes, may I help you?” he asked.
“What is your latest information on the westbound train? Will it be on time?”
“We received a telegram from Bushnell a short time ago,” the clerk replied. “It left the depot on time.”
“Thank you.”
As Bailey returned to the depot dining room, she thought of what the sheriff had told her. Although Dancer had said nothing about killing the two men, they had been in Bitter Creek two days earlier and the train had spent an hour in the depot there while some repair work was being done. Bailey stayed on the train, but Dancer left to go to the saloon. He returned in time for the train to leave, then sat in the overstuffed chair of the parlor car and went to sleep.
He had said nothing at all about an encounter at the saloon.
Bailey wasn’t really surprised, either that it happened or that he had said nothing about it. Employing a man like Ethan Dancer was a little like staring into the abyss. She found it frightening, but at the same time strangely erotic.
“I just spoke with the ticket agent. The train is on time,” she said to Dancer when she returned to the table they were sharing.
Dancer nodded but said nothing.
“I spoke to the sheriff too.”
“Did you?” It was Dancer’s only response.
“Mr. Dancer, when the train stopped in Bitter Creek the other day, did anything happen?”
“Why do you ask?” Dancer replied.
“The sheriff says you killed two men.”
“I did.”
“God in heaven, man!” Bailey burst out. “You killed two men just in the period of time that we were in Bitter Creek, and you didn’t even think it was important enough to mention?”
“I figured you had read about it,” Dancer said.
“Read about it?”
Dancer picked up the paper and pointed to a story that was on the front page in the lower right-hand corner.
“It’s no secret,” he said.
Bailey looked at the article he pointed out.
TWO MEN KILLED
Thursday night last, a terrible shooting affair occurred at the Boar’s Breath saloon in Bitter Creek. Two Texans, at this point known only as Boomer and Dooley, arrived in Bitter Creek, ostensibly to look for employment as cowboys.
An altercation developed between the two cowboys and Ethan Dancer. It is not known why
Ethan Dancer was in Bitter Creek, as this small town is not a normal part of his “haunts.” It is believed, however, that he was on the eastbound train, which remained in town longer than normal due to a mechanical problem.
Apparently, the cowboys did not recognize Ethan Dancer, despite his distinctive appearance. As tempers grew hotter, angry words were exchanged, and the two cowboys went for their guns. Although no witness can recall what caused the altercation, all are in agreement that the cowboys drew first.
It is not known how many rash men, attempting to try their hand at besting Ethan Dancer, have fallen under his guns. It is not certain that even Dancer knows. But let all who would challenge him be warned. He is as deadly as a rattlesnake, and as quick as thought.
A collection was made to purchase two coffins and the cowboys are buried in a common grave under a single grave marker with the following inscription:
Here Lie Boomer and Dooley
Two cowboys from the South.
They would still be alive
If they had not opened their mouth.
Bailey read the article, then looked up. “Mr. Dancer, what is it like?” she asked.
“What is what like?” Dancer replied.
“What is it like to kill a man? What does it feel like?”
Dancer was surprised by the expression on Bailey’s face and the intense look of excitement in her eyes. He realized then that, instead of being distressed by the fact that he had killed two men, she was actually intrigued by it. She was more than intrigued, she was fascinated, even excited.
“It’s a good feeling,” Dancer said.
“A good feeling, how?”
“A good feeling like when I have a woman and—”
“No!” Bailey said. “That’s enough. I had no business asking such a question.”
Bailey shivered in what could only be sexual excitation, and yet she knew it was not because of any attraction to Dancer, whose badly scarred face repulsed her. The sexual excitation came from the act of killing itself.
She cleared her throat, then closed the newspaper.
“They’ll be here soon,” she said.
Addison Ford, Administrative Assistant to the Honorable Columbus Delano, Secretary of the Interior, was traveling at government expense, on government business. The trip from Washington had been long and tiring. But because their accommodations were first class all the way, it had not been what he would have called an exhausting trip.
It was almost as if Ford, his wife Mary, his son-in-law Jason White, and his daughter Lucy were traveling by private accommodations, because they were the only passengers in the parlor car, and had been since leaving Omaha.
Ford was carrying a letter from Secretary Delano granting him full power of attorney to act on behalf of the Secretary of Interior. Ostensibly, he was making the trip as one of exploration to determine whether the application to build the Sweetwater Railroad should be favorably considered.
“There have been too many railroads built for no other purpose than to provide the railroad builder with free land,” Delano told his assistant before he left Washington. “I place full trust and confidence in you to make the correct decision, then to act upon that decision.”
“I will not betray your trust and confidence,” Ford had replied. Even as Ford made that statement, he was holding a bank draft for $10,000, an inducement he had personally received from the Sweetwater Railroad. It had been loosely described as an offset against any expenses incurred while investigating the application, but it was a bribe, pure and simple.
The money was good, but Addison Ford wanted much more than $10,000, and he was certain that in head-to-head negotiations with the person who had paid him this bribe, he would be able to secure a larger piece of the pie.
Chapter 5
WHEN THE WESTERN FLYER ARRIVED, BAILEY AND Dancer boarded the train, then were shown to their first-class accommodations in the parlor car. Before the train got underway, though, Bailey stepped into the next parlor car, in which there were only two men and two women. They looked up when she entered and looked at her for a moment longer than was courteous, but Bailey said nothing.
Seeing that she wasn’t going to leave the car, the older of the two men stood up.
“Is there something I can help you with, madam?” he inquired.
“Are you Addison Ford?” Bailey asked.
“I am.”
“I’m McPherson,” Bailey said.
When the expression of Ford’s face didn’t change, she said, “Bailey McPherson? I believe we have been doing some business together.”
“Bailey McPherson? You’re a woman?”
Bailey laughed. “Yes, I am.”
“I thought…”
“I know what you thought,” Bailey said. “And I apologize if I let you think that, but it was by design. It was my belief that we would be able to negotiate our arrangement better if you thought I was a man.”
“Yes, well…Miss…McPherson, it is a pleasure to meet you at last. And I assure you, your gender will have no bearing on our arrangement.” He stuck his hand out.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Bailey said, shaking.
“Let me introduce my traveling companions,” Ford said. “This is my wife, Mary; my daughter, Lucy White; and her husband, Jason. Jason is the civil engineer who will be doing the surveying for us.”