“What makes you think that I’ll go upstairs with you?” the girl asked.
“’Cause you’re a whore,” Slater said. “And that’s what whores do.”
“Other whores maybe, but not this whore,” the bar girl replied. “I do what I want to do, and right now I am enjoying a conversation with my gentleman friend.”
“Yeah, well, now you’re going to enjoy that conversation with me.”
“I don’t think so,” the girl said.
“Oh, I think you’ll talk to me. Because, if you don’t, I’m goin’ to pistol-whip this here gentleman you was a’ talkin’ to.”
The gentleman started to whimper, but the woman put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry.” She looked at Slater, measuring the expression in his eyes. She saw nothing but evil, and she couldn’t help but close her own eyes to blot it out. “Before I let him hurt you, I will go with him,” the girl said.
Slater put his pistol away. “Yeah,” he said. “I thought you might.”
“Kaye,” the bartender called to the soiled dove that worked for him. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, Paul, I’m fine,” Kaye replied. “This won’t be the first time I’ve ever had to deal with Mr. Slater.”
“What makes you dislike me so?” Slater asked the woman.
“I don’t like you because you have a very tiny pecker.”
The others in the room laughed outrageously as Slater’s face turned beet red. He vowed not to ask any more questions that might trip him up.
As the three men galloped out of town an hour later, they yelled and fired their pistols into the air. They were just passing a man and woman who were arriving in town in a buckboard, and the shouting and gunfire startled the buckboard team into a gallop. The woman hung on to her seat for dear life while the man fought to regain control of his team.
Most of the others, seeing the three cowboys shouting and shooting as they rode their horses at an unseasonable speed, moved quickly to get out of their way.
In the office of the
“What’s all the noise?” Millie called toward the front. At the moment, she was in the back of the office, sweeping the floor.
“It’s some of Denbigh’s riders, razzing the town,” John answered. “Slater, Dillon, and Wilson.”
“It would be them,” Millie said. “They are the worst of the lot.”
John shook his head. “No. The little gargoyle that Denbigh keeps posted on the front porch of the saloon— Butrum—he is the worst of the lot.”
“You would think Denbigh would have more control over his men.”
“He does have control over them,” John answered. “You think Denbigh didn’t know his men were going to trash our office? He not only knew it, he ordered it done.”
“Marshal Tipton says it could have been someone from town, either someone upset or someone doing it as a prank,” Millie suggested.
“What sort of prank would tearing up somebody’s place of business be?” John asked. “No, whoever it was did exactly what Denbigh wanted them to do. He wants, not only us, but the whole town to be intimidated. And he has about succeeded with the town. That’s why he lets ruffians like Slater, Dillon, and Wilson act without restraint.”
John walked back to the Washington Hand Press, put a sheet of paper onto the tympan, then moved the bed under the platen. “All right, George,” he said, speaking to the hand press. “Do your stuff.” John pressed it down with the bar, then used the rolling block to move the bed back out. Peeling off the first page of the newspaper, he held it up for just a moment to let the ink dry, then took it over to the light of the front window to read the copy.
Intelligence received from the above-mentioned company suggests that they would offer the best route from Fullerton south to Ellendale, the route bringing within easy reach the railroad, which, by connections, would provide our citizens with easy travel to all the great metropolises of America.
This company has plans to equip their line with twelve of the best and most comfortable Concord coaches, with one hundred and sixty horses, and would establish stations and supply ranches along the route at distances from twelve, and not to exceed fifteen miles apart. Though the Indians are believed to offer little or no trouble, The Northern Express Stage and Transportation Company has of late expressed some concern as to whether they will be able to put their plans into effect at all.
Mr. R. A. Weatherly, operations officer for the company, released the following statement. “It has come to the attention of this company that one individual has gained control of the Ellendale Highway and is imposing a toll upon all who make use of the road. We cannot, and will not pay tolls for the passage of our coaches, for to do so would render the profit so marginal as to be non-productive.”
Though Mr. Weatherly mentioned no names, this newspaper feels an obligation to its readers to publish herein the name of the individual whose actions may cost our town this important transportation service. His name is Nigel Denbigh, and he has made the spurious claim that, because the road passes through his property, it is subject to a toll to be collected by him.
An appeal to Sheriff Hightower in Ellendale has availed us of no relief from this condition, and many of our citizens have already faced personal hardship because of the toll Denbigh has established on the Ellendale Road.
I am sending, by post, a copy of this newspaper to Governor Ordway in Bismarck, with the hope that he will see his way to right this wrong that is being perpetrated against us.
