“Let’s go,” Ray said.
Higbee
Kathleen Garrison was waiting in the freight office for Mr. Thompson to come back in from the wagon yard. She was an exceptionally pretty girl, tall and willowy, with high cheekbones, bright blue eyes, and long, chestnut hair that hung down her back.
Thompson came back inside. “I checked with the others,” he said. “I don’t reckon True has come in yet. Ain’t nobody seen him, and the wagons is still gone.”
“I thought they would be here by noon,” Kathleen said. “That’s what we were told.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know that’s what we told you,” Thompson agreed. “I don’t know what’s keepin’ him. He should’a been in a couple of hours ago. Could be one of the wagons broke an axle or something. If so, they would have all stayed back until it got fixed.”
“My father really needs those supplies, Mr. Thompson,” Kathleen said. “Would you please send someone over to let us know the moment they arrive?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do that,” Thompson replied. He chuckled. “Even though I’m sort of diggin’ my own grave, so to speak. I mean, if your pa gets that railroad built, then who’ll be usin’ my freight wagons?”
“Why, Mr. Thompson,” Kathleen said. “When the railroad is built, your business is likely to double.”
“Double? How do you see that?”
“How do you suppose people who have things to ship by rail are going to get them here to the railhead?” Kathleen asked. “They’ll have to use your wagons. And with the railroad will come more people, which means more business.”
Thompson stroked his chin for a moment, then nodded in agreement.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling broadly. “Yeah, now that I think about it, you might just be right at that.”
“Of course, I’m right,” Kathleen said.
“You tell the general I’ll let him know the moment the shipment gets here.”
“I’ll do that, Mr. Thompson, and thank you.”
Leaving the freight office, Kathleen walked down to the opposite end of town to a small building that was attached to the side of the hardware store. A sign in front of the building advertised this to be the office of the Colorado, New Mexico, and Texas Railroad Company, though as Garrison was quick to point out, this was only temporary.
A little bell rang when Kathleen pushed open the door of the office. Her father was leaning over a table, examining a map. He looked up as Kathleen came into the office.
“Kathleen, the county commissioners just gave us final clearance for passage all the way to La Junta. There’s nothing can stop us now,” he said.
“Oh, Papa, that’s wonderful!”
“What about the building materials?” Garrison asked. “I’d like to get the depot built right away.”
“The shipment hasn’t arrived yet.”
“It hasn’t?” he asked, the expression on his face registering his surprise. “I received a telegram that they left La Junta at ten o’clock this morning.” Garrison glanced at the clock. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon. They should have been here two hours ago.”
“That’s what Mr. Thompson said, too,” Kathleen said. “He said one of the wagons may have broken an axle or something. Anyway, I asked him to let us know the moment they arrive.”
“Good, good, I’d really like to get started on the depot right away. I think seeing a depot go up in town would have a great effect on the townspeople and—”
Garrison’s comment was interrupted by shouting from outside. The shouts were loud and angry.
“What is it?” Garrison asked. “What’s going on outside?”
“I don’t have any idea,” Kathleen replied. “It was quiet when I came in a moment ago.”
Garrison put a paperweight on the map he had been studying, then walked over to the door and stepped outside. Kathleen followed him.
“They’re dead! All three of ’em are dead!” someone shouted.
“Marshal Calhoun should get a posse together,” another called.
“What good would that do? He ain’t got no jurisdiction outside of town.”
“What about Sheriff Belmond?”
“Lots of luck getting Belmond to do anything.”
“Well, we need to do something! We should go after the sons of bitches who did this. We can’t just let them get away with it.”
“Don’t nobody know who it was.”
“Abner!” Garrison called to one of the men.
“Yes, sir, General?”
“What are you men talking about? Who is dead?”
“You mean you ain’t heard?”
“If I had heard, would I be asking you?”
“No, I’m sorry, General, I guess you wouldn’t be,” Abner said. “It’s Norman True, Josey Hale, and Mickey Wells is who it is.”
“Wait a minute, Norman True you say? He drives for Thompson Wagon Freight, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where was he found?”
“They was found out on the road ’bout halfway between here and La Junta. All three was shot dead and their wagons burnt.”
“The wagons were burned?”
“Yes, sir, all three of ’em, burnt to the ground.”
“Papa, that’s—”
“Yes, Kathleen, I know,” Garrison replied. “That’s our shipment.”
“But why would anyone do such a thing? Mr. True is as nice a man as you would ever want to meet,” Kathleen said.
“They weren’t after Mr. True, darlin’,” Garrison said. “They were after our shipment.”
Chapter Six
Ike Clinton, owner of La Soga Larga Ranch, and his three boys were riding into the town of La Junta.
As they came into town, a dog ran out into the road to yap and snap at the heels of the horses. Cletus, the middle of the three, pulled his gun and shot at the dog. He hit the dog in one of its legs, and the dog ran from the street, yelping in pain. A young Mexican boy ran out to grab the dog.
“Ha! Did you see that?” Cletus asked. “I think I took his foot off.”
“You ought not to have done that,” Billy said. Billy was the youngest. “That dog wasn’t bothering you.”
“Yeah, well, he was botherin’ my horse,” Cletus said. “That’s damn near the same thing as botherin’ me. Anyway, I did the dog a favor.”
Ray laughed. “How did you do that dog a favor by shootin’ off his foot?” Ray was the oldest, and by far the largest of the three.
“Well, he won’t be runnin’ out after horses no more now, will he?” Cletus replied. “Like as not some horse would’a kicked him in the head and kilt him one of these days.”
“Yeah,” Billy growled. “You were just real good to him.”
“Hey, Ray, what do you think? Billy is just all broke up ’cause I shot that dog’s foot off.”
“Yeah,” Ray said. “Billy worries about things like that—being good to dogs, little kids, and old folks.”
“Billy, how the hell did you get to be so different from us?” Cletus asked.
“You boys quit pickin’ on your brother,” Ike said.
“I can’t help pickin’ on him,” Cletus said. “He’s so damn easy to pick on.”
Ray laughed.
“Pa, you sure they didn’t somebody else crawl into bed with Ma before this pup was borned?” Ray asked.
“If there had’a been somebody crawled in bed with Martha, whatever he whelped would’a never been born,” Ike said. “I’d’a kilt ’em both.”
“So, what you are sayin’ is, Billy is our kith an’ kin.”
“That’s what I’m sayin’.”
“Well, maybe so, but he sure is different,” Ray said. “Always worryin’ ’bout the other fella, and puttin’ ever’body else’s good a’fore his own blood.”
“Hey, Pa, what time does the train get in?” Cletus asked.