“Did you see anything? Would you be able to identify him?”
“No,” Hawke said. “It was too dark.”
After moving through the corral, Metzger got through the back fence then jumped into a ditch.
“Shit!” he said aloud, realizing what he had dropped into. This was the corral drainage ditch, and it was filled with horse manure, liquefied by horse urine.
He climbed up to the edge of the ditch and looked back though the lowest rung of the fence to see if Hawke was still chasing him. He didn’t see him anywhere, so he was pretty sure Hawke had given up the search.
Metzger cursed himself for not taking a rifle up to the hayloft with him. If he had used a rifle instead of his pistol, he thought, Hawke would be dead now.
Chapter 20
DORCHESTER CALLED A MEETING OF ALL THE ranchers whose land was affected by the Sweetwater Railroad. Hawke watched the ranchers, big and small, arriving for the meeting in various means of conveyances; buckboards, wagons, open stages, phaetons, country wagons, traps, or just on horseback. Vehicles and livestock filled the curved driveway as the ranchers went into the house and gathered in Dorchester’s large parlor. By now all of them knew about the dam, and most had had some of their land confiscated by the act of eminent domain. Though Dorchester’s 144,000 acres was by far the largest amount, the others were proportionately just as badly hurt.
“I think all of you know that Bailey McPherson is behind all this,” Dorchester said shortly after he started the meeting.
“What I want to know is, how did she get the government to give her all that land?” one of the other ranch owners asked.
“Well, here,” Dorchester said, “I’ve got a copy of the act. I’ll read it to you.”
He pulled some papers from an oversized brown envelope and began to read:
“‘Whereas gold has been discovered in the Sweetwater Mountains of Wyoming Territory, and whereas it is the responsibility of the United States government to provide for the safety of those who travel, be it therefore known that:
“‘An act to aid in the construction of a railroad and telegraph line as follows:
“‘Be it enacted that the Sweetwater Railroad Company, together with Addison Ford, a commissioner herein appointed by the Secretary of the Interior, are hereby authorized and empowered to lay out, locate, construct, furnish, maintain, and enjoy a continuous railroad and telegraph from Green River City, Wyoming Territory, north along such route as Commissioner Ford directors, in accordance with the route as laid out by survey, to the area known as South Pass in the Sweetwater Mountains.’”
Dorchester quit reading for a moment and looked up. “And now, here comes the part effects us.”
He cleared his throat and continued. “‘That there be…granted to the said company, for the purpose of aiding in the construction of said railroad and telegraph line, and to secure the safe and speedy transportation of mails, troops, munitions of war, and public stores thereon, every alternate section of public land, designated by odd numbers, to the amount of five alternate sections per mile on each side of said railroad, on the line thereof, and within the limits of ten miles on each side of said road. Provided that all mineral lands shall be excepted from the operation of this act; but where the same shall contain timber, the timber thereon is hereby granted to said company.’”
“So, what does all that mumbo-jumbo mean?” one of the ranch owners asked.
“That means that Bailey McPherson can take all the land she wants, and there is very little we can do about it.”
“Yeah, well, McPherson ain’t hurtin’ none, that’s for sure. Fact is, she’s not only get land give to her, she’s buyin’ land from those who will sell to her,” one of the owners said.
“That’s true,” another agreed. “She’s made me an offer for my land.” He paused for a moment before he went on. “And I have to tell you boys, seein’ as how I ain’t got water no more, I think I’m goin’ to take her up on it.”
“What did she offer you, Tony?” Dorchester asked.
“She offered me to buy my stock at half the market price, give me a dollar an acre for my land.”
“A dollar an acre?” Dorchester scoffed. “Why, Tony, your land’s worth forty times that and you know it!”
“It’s worth that with water,” Tony agreed. “But without water, that dirt ain’t doin’ nothin’ but holdin’ the world together. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s letting me water my stock on her land, my cows would all be dyin’.”
“You mean Bailey McPherson is letting your stock water on her range?” someone asked.
“Yeah,” Tony answered. Then he added, “But she’s takin’ every third cow for payment.”
“Every third cow? My God, that’s what she’s askin’?” one of the owners exclaimed. He shook his head. “And here I was, thinking about going to her, hat in hand, to see if I could work out a deal. But every third cow?”
“Tell me, Mr. Vincent, you do agree that keeping two-thirds of your herd is better than letting all of your cows die of thirst, don’t you?” a woman asked.
Dorchester and his guests looked toward the door of the parlor. Bailey McPherson was standing there, smiling triumphantly at the group of landowners.
“What are you taking the cattle for?” Dorchester asked. “I thought you were in the railroad business, not the cattle business.”
“My dear Mr. Dorchester,” Bailey said. “The entire purpose of the Railroad Land Grant Act is to provide a means of income to enable entrepreneurs to have the means to build the railroad. The cattle will help me do that. And of course, the railroad will benefit us all. Think how much easier it will be now to get your cattle to the railhead back in Green River, for shipment to the stockyards in Kansas City and Chicago.”
As always, Dancer was with Bailey, and he looked around assembled men and women in the room until he spotted Hawke. Then, without taking his eyes off Hawke, Dancer walked over to a nearby table where a tray of cookies and several cups sat.
“Would you care for tea or coffee, sir?” Wilson offered, stepping toward the table.
Dancer paid no attention to him. Instead, he continued to stare at Hawke as he reached for a cup.
“Of course, sir, help yourself,” Wilson said weakly as he stepped back away from the table.
Dancer poured himself a cup of coffee, then moved back to stand beside Bailey, all the while staring pointedly at Hawke.
“What do you mean when you say the railroad will help us with our cattle?” Tony Vincent asked. “By the time you are through here, none of us will have any cattle, or land, left.”
Hawke walked over to the service table, all the while returning Dancer’s stare. Wilson took one step toward the table but saw that, as before, his services were neither required nor wanted. He stepped back.
Hawke poured himself a cup of coffee, then returned to his seat, never breaking eye contact with Dancer.
“We needn’t be enemies,” Bailey said. “I’m sure we can work something out. We could have already been discussing it, if I had been invited to the meeting. After all, this is a landowner’s meeting, isn’t it? Wouldn’t the neighborly thing have been to invite me?” She looked pointedly at Dorchester.
“Of course you are welcome here, Miss McPherson,” Dorchester said graciously. “It’s just that since you aren’t facing the same sort of problems the rest of us are, I thought you wouldn’t be interested.”
“Nonsense,” Bailey replied. “If my good friends and neighbors are hurt, then so am I. I want us to find some way to resolve this, if we can.”