“Smoke, look over there,” Sally said, pointing the young man out to her husband. “Oh, I hope that isn’t Mr. Murchison. He is so young.”
“Lawyers aren’t born old, you know,” Smoke replied. “They are all young at some point.”
“I suppose so. But I do prefer a little seasoning.”
“Let’s go meet him,” Smoke said, leading Sally in the direction of the young man. “I’m Smoke Jensen,” Smoke said when they reached him.
“Mr. Jensen, my name is Roy Clinton.”
“Good,” Sally said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I mean, I thought you were Mr. Murchison.”
“No, ma’am. Mr. Murchison asked me to pick you up and take you to the hotel. He has already secured a room for you, and he said he would join you for breakfast.”
“Oh, I’m too tired for breakfast,” Sally said.
“You may as well eat,” Smoke said. “Besides, a good breakfast will refresh you.”
“How far is the hotel?” Sally asked.
“Your room is at the Homestead Hotel. It’s a nice place, and it’s close by,” Roy said. “Do you have luggage?”
“Yes, it’s on the luggage car.”
“That’s the surrey over there. Why don’t you go climb aboard? I’ll make arrangements to have your luggage sent directly to your hotel room.”
“All right, thanks,” Smoke said.
Smoke was carrying a small grip with him, and he and Sally walked over to the surrey and climbed in. As they waited in the surrey, Smoke watched Roy speak to one of the railroad officials and give him some money.
“He seems like a nice young man,” Sally said.
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself now?”
“Why should I be ashamed?”
“For saying you are glad it wasn’t Murchison.”
“No. I’m still glad he isn’t Mr. Murchison.”
Roy came back to the surrey.
“All taken care of,” he said as he climbed into the surrey, then picked up the reins.
“Are you a lawyer in Tom Murchison’s office?” Smoke said.
“Yes and no,” Roy replied. “I’m reading for the law, but I am not yet a practicing attorney. I’m apprenticed to Mr. Murchison.”
“Well, you seem quite efficient, so I’m sure you will make a very good lawyer,” Sally said.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Roy replied, beaming at the compliment.
Smoke and Sally checked into the hotel, then went up to their room.
“Oh, look, a bed,” Sally said. “Couldn’t we just send our regrets and meet Mr. Murchison for lunch?”
“I tell you what. You go ahead and take a nap,” Smoke said. “I’ll meet Mr. Murchison for breakfast.”
“You are a dear,” Sally said, kissing Smoke.
When Smoke went downstairs to the dining room, he was met by the maitre d’.
“I’m to meet Mr. Murchison for breakfast,” Smoke said. “I’ve never met him, so I don’t know what he looks like. When he comes in, I would appreciate it if you would send him over to my table.”
“He is already here, sir,” the maitre d’ replied. “Follow me, please. I’ll take you to him.”
Tom Murchison was rather short, with thinning hair that had once been red, blue eyes enlarged by his glasses, and a spray of freckles. He stood as Smoke approached.
“Mr. Jensen,” Murchison said. “I have heard so much about you. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you,” Smoke said, taking a seat that put his back to the wall and allowed him to have a view of the room and the door.
“I was led to believe that Mrs. Jensen was with you. Will she be joining us?”
“No, not right away. Later perhaps.”
“Very good. Oh, I’ve researched the bull that is being auctioned. Prince Henry’s sire is Gold Nugget, and his dam is Gladys of Farleigh, both of whom have won awards in cattle shows. Prince Henry has already proven himself to be a good breeder, and his progeny are all well framed, heavy muscled, moderate at birth, but with a tremendous growth curve, correct off their feet and legs, and with great eye appeal.”
“So he is what they claim him to be?”
