“I’m not an American,” Lily said. “And I like the American West as well.”
“If you dislike it so, why do you stay here?” Jennie asked.
“Because my husband has chosen to live here,” Margaret said. “Though God knows why.”
“I’ll tell you why,” Teasdale said. “Thistledown is larger than the largest estate in England. The opportunity here is limitless.”
“It would be,” Frewen said, “if it were not for Sam Logan and the Yellow Kerchief Gang. But I am beginning to have hope that Mr. Jensen may take care of that problem for us.”
“Do you really think that one man, even a hired killer, working alone against fifteen members of the Yellow Kerchief gang can succeed?”
“I wouldn’t call Mr. Jensen a hired killer,” Frewen said.
“Oh? And what would you call him? He has been here for a few weeks only, and already three men are dead because of him.”
“Only two,” Frewen said. “I take full responsibility for hanging Mr. Daggett.”
“Yes, and I wish I had had the opportunity to have gotten to you before you did that. I fear, Moreton, that you overstepped your authority to declare that a magistrate that you hold in England would give you power to act as a judge here.”
“Since the deed is done it is, at this point, a mere technicality,” Frewen said. “If I need an American appointment, I can easily get one.”
“Perhaps so, but that doesn’t change the situation with regard to Matt Jensen. He is a man who lives in that dark world that decent people, such as we, will never know. He is an evil man.”
“I don’t think he is an evil man at all,” Jennie said. “He met Winnie and me at the depot and escorted us here to Frewen Castle. He was a perfect gentleman, all the way.”
“And I must say that when I met him the first day he arrived, he was very much a gentlemen,” Lily said.
“Don’t let that gentlemanly facade fool you,” Teasdale said. “Matt Jensen is very much a killer. I have it on good authority that he killed four men within one month before he came here.”
“If that is the case, then why is he not in jail?” Frewen asked.
“Three of the men he killed were wanted murderers. The fourth, I understand, was attempting to rob him.”
“Then what you are telling me is that all the killings were justifiable.”
“No, what I’m telling you is, he is a man who dispenses his own justice. Civilized people don’t take the law into their own hands.”
“As long as the people he is killing are the same people who have been killing my employees, then I can find no fault with him,” Frewen said.
“What about you, Winnie?” Teasdale asked. “I imagine young boys like you could be easily persuaded by such things as a fast draw and a straight shot.”
Winnie had been listening to the conversation in rapt attention. “Drawing quickly and shooting accurately are not the most important things,” Winnie said. “The most important thing is to always be on the side of right. So I believe that, no matter how many Mr. Jensen has killed, he has been on the side of right, and fighting against evil. And that makes him a good man.”
“That is most astute of you, young man,” Frewen said.
“That’s what Mr. Jensen told me, and I haven’t forgotten it,” Winnie said.
“Nor should you,” Frewen said. “I am afraid there will always be a struggle of good versus evil. And we must always strive to be on the side of good.”
“Enough talk about killing,” Clara said. “Let’s do find a more pleasant subject of discussion, shall we? Winnie, what about you? Now that you have been here for a few days, what do you think of America?”
“Oh, I find it a most delightful place,” Winnie said. “Sometimes it is like being at sea, one can look all the way to the edge of the world. If Papa were American and Mama British, instead of the other way around, why, I might live here and be a cowboy.”
“Not necessarily so,” Clara said. “Moreton is British and I am American, yet here we are and here we live.”
“You want to be a cowboy, do you?” Teasdale asked.
“Yes, sir. I’ve read about cowboys. They are knights of the range.”
Teasdale chuckled. “You might not think that after a spring roundup when they have gone for a month or more without a bath, or even a change of clothes. Dirtier creatures you have never seen.”
“I don’t feel that way,” Frewen said. “I have found the men who work for me to be honorable, loyal, even noble men. Some of them have died defending the ranch. What more could you ask of any man?”
“More than likely they weren’t defending the ranch as much as they were defending themselves,” Teasdale said. “The cowboys who were killed on the island, those who were killed at the Taney Creek line shack, and the young man who was just killed, Burt Rawlings, were all fighting for their own lives.”
“Lives that had been put in peril because they were employed by me. I have nothing but admiration for them,” Frewen said.
“You know, Moreton, that could be your problem,” Teasdale said.
“What are you talking about?”
