allowed to see him.
The mud in the pits gurgled and bubbled, some of it brown, some of it gray, some of it white.
'Lot of deer carcasses been thrown in there,' Gifford said. 'Elk, too. So's they wouldn't attract the buzzards. I imagine a fair number of local boys have tossed other things in as well.' He looked meaningfully over at Williams. 'Not a one of them has ever bubbled to the surface.'
He let that sink in.
'I'd bet there's room in them pits for a lot more.'
Williams smiled. 'I'll bet there is,' he said.
After stopping in Kentucky and Virginia, he continued on to Washington, D.C., where he found, to his surprise, that Harrison had already been speaking in private to some of the congressmen whom Williams had intended to approach about the Chinese problem.
Apparently, the railroad president had learned a few hard lessons lately and had come to see the error of his ways.
Just as Williams had predicted.
Nothing had been decided, nothing was set in stone, and as was always the case with politicians, no one was willing to commit to a specific course of action. Still, the general consensus seemed to be that once the railroad was finished, something had to be done, and that was probably the best that could be hoped [ for.
For now.
It was a day of celebration for America, and Harrison wished he could be everywhere at once. Parades were planned for Chicago and New York City, where hundreds of people were expected to line the streets to commemorate this historic occasion. In cities all along the route, picnics and festivities to rival Independence Day would be occurring, and in Sacramento and Omaha, the two ends of the line, even greater galas were scheduled.
But on this important day, his place was here, at Promontory Point, where the lines would finally be joined. Despite having had to blast through the Sierra Nevada and navigate some of the most dangerous and unforgiving terrain known to man, the Central Pacific had finished its half of the railway first, on April 30. They'd been waiting for the past week and a half for the Union and United Pacific workers to hurry and finish their portion. Harrison attributed it to the fact that the Central Pacific had more Chinese. If there was anything those Chinks knew, it was dynamite, and their expertise with explosives had helped the line through many a rough patch.
Although Harrison found that worrying as well. Thousands of soon-to-be unemployed foreigners with extensive knowledge of explosives was not a situation he found comforting.
He looked over the heads of Doc Durant and Iceland Stanford to see Chester Williams deep in conversation with one of the generals who had come West with a regiment of men and was now standing near the Union locomotive with assorted other dignitaries. He still didn't trust that man. There'd been rumors in Washington that he'd been trying to secretly negotiate backroom deals involving the railroads, but nothing seemed to have come of it. He was glad of that. The last thing he wanted was to be in business again with that blowhard. Harrison took his wife's arm and turned away, not wanting to catch Williams' eye accidentally and have the man come over to him.
The president hadn't come. He'd expected as much, but General Grant's absence was still disappointing, and even the sheer number of other officials who'd made the trip out here to the middle of nowhere could not offset the loss of the president.
It was getting hard to hear, and he assumed that meant that the ceremony would be starting soon. Three bands seemed to be playing at once, and because there were enough people here for twenty band concerts, the sound was cacophonous. Someone somewhere let out a whoop and fired a shot in the air, and Harrison knew that once that golden spike was driven into the rail, the air would be filled with celebratory gunfire.
A boy came to get him and bring him to the spot where the last rails were to be laid. Coins had been tossed and it had been decided that Stanford and Durant were to do the honors, but all of the partners needed to be present for pictures. Flashbulbs started going off the moment he approached the tracks.
The official ceremony began, and the last two rails were laid, Chinese workers carrying one, Irish workmen the other. Bands played, the crowd cheered, and photos were taken from every which angle as the steel rails were put in place. Poses were struck, more photos were shot, and a half hour later, Stanford and Durant finally drove in the golden spike.
Americans could now ride the rails from coast to coast.
It was indeed a glorious day, and Harrison imagined he could almost hear the people celebrating all over this great nation. There would be fireworks tonight. And drinking. And, for the single men, carousing. It would be a party to remember, and appropriately so, for the project that had been completed here today would change the face of transportation-and the face of America-forever.
Still, despite the congratulations from friends, enemies and peers, despite the constant flash of cameras and the hearty praise from unknown society gentlemen, he found himself glancing over at Chester Williams, who stood by himself, an unnerving smile on his broad florid face as he stared across the tracks at
Williams was up to something. He was sure of it.
The man had some sort of plan, some sort of scheme he was hatching. Harrison was curious-who wouldn't
be?-but the more he looked at that unsettling grin, the more he decided that it was probably best not to know.
The crowds were gone, the trains departed, and only the workers, the militia and a few straggling souls were
left behind. The soldiers were supposed to have left, too, and some of them had, but a hefty number remained.
Because Williams had paid them to do so.
Despite his contacts, despite his power and influence, his attempt to make headway with those politicians in Washington had come to naught. They'd been too afraid to act, some citing moral qualms, others bringing up constitutional concerns, others simply admitting that unless their brethren went along, they would not sponsor such legislation. He had tried to play upon their antagonism with the president, but that hadn't worked either, so he'd gone straight to the source and hired members of the U.S. Army to do the dirty work. He knew already that the boys in uniform were underpaid. He knew as well that some of the younger ones who had yet to see action, having come along after the end of the war, relished the idea of killing some enemies.
It was a match made in heaven.
The deed could be done only after the public was gone, though, after the press had left. This 'operation,' as the general Called it, had to be performed with the utmost secrecy.
Williams had had the translator tell the Chinks that because they had done such a wonderful job building the railroad, there was another job in the offing, one that paid twice as much. Many of them still left, going back to their families in San Francisco or even back to China, unhappy with the life of a navvy and unwilling to take on such a burden again. Others had departed with the Irish crews and the other workers, dispersing eastward.
They could be taken care of another day.
But a lot of them stayed, and Williams estimated there were at least two hundred in the east camp and significantly more in the west camp. Quite a few of these were slaves, men who had been brought, bought and beaten into submission. Others believed the lie and were willing to remain behind an extra few days for the chance at earning more money and forging a better life.
They struck at dawn.
Most of the Chinks were asleep in their tents, and when the cavalry came galloping through, ripping apart the canvas with swords and bayonets, they ran screaming out onto the field, where other soldiers rounded them up like cattle and herded them away from the tracks. Williams watched it all from his post atop a hillock, using a spyglass the general had lent him, and he smiled with delight as the soldiers beat and kicked the men, whipping them when they got out of line as they drove the heathens northward. Clearly it paid to hire professionals.
He followed behind as they headed away from the camp, as the soldiers gathered the Chinese together in the
