“Hire my services? What do you mean, hire my services? Hire my services for what?”
“I would like to hire your services to be my advocate, rather than my adversary,” Denbigh said. “Such things are done, I know. It would not be unprecedented, nor would it be unsavory to hire you to write something favorable about me.”
“It would be more than unsavory, it would be absolutely dishonest,” John replied.
“Would it?” Denbigh picked up an earlier copy of the
Denbigh put the paper down and smiled at John. “Really, Mr. Bryce. Are you telling me that there is no other men’s furnishing goods store anywhere in America that is as good as Fuller and Simpson?”
“That is merely an advertisement, sir,” John explained. “A certain degree of hyperbole is allowed, indeed is expected, in advertisements.”
“Well, then, that should ease your conscience,” Denbigh said. “I will hire you to write favorable advertisements about me.”
“No,” John said. “I cannot, and I will not. I believe that your actions are stifling, indeed, killing, not only Fullerton, but nearly all of Dickey County. I will not support you. On the contrary, I will fight you as hard as I can.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Bryce. I’m just real sorry to hear that,” Denbigh said. “I had hoped that you and I could come to some sort of an accommodation.”
“That was my hope as well. You said in your letter that you thought I had a point in my article. In fact, I believe you said you would not want to kill the town as it serves a necessary function.”
“Did I?”
“You did. I took that to mean that you were willing to discuss removing the toll from Ellendale Highway.”
“You took it wrong,” Denbigh said. He made a motion with his fingers toward Tolliver.
“Yes, m’lord?”
“Do show Mr. Bryce out, will you, Mr. Tolliver?”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“That’s it?” John said. “This is the end of our conversation?”
“Mr. Bryce, do be careful on your ride back to town,” Denbigh said ominously.
Chapter Fifteen
When Matt stepped down from the train in Big Rock, he waited on the platform until his saddle and saddlebags were off-loaded. Then, picking them up, he walked across the road from the depot to Mercer’s Corral where, according to a professionally lettered sign, one could RENT HORSES, BUCKBOARDS, AND WAGONS.
“Yes, sir, I’ll be right with you,” the proprietor said when Matt walked into the barn through the wide-open double doors. The proprietor was putting a horse into a stall.
“No big hurry, Bob, I never like to disturb a man at his work,” Matt said.
Hearing himself addressed by a familiar voice, Bob turned, then, smiled broadly.
“Well, Matt Jensen, as I live and breathe,” he said jovially, hurrying toward the opening with his hand extended.
Matt shook his hand.
“What can I do for you?” Bob asked.
“I just came in on the train,” Matt said. “I’d like to rent a horse for a while.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll pick out a good one for you,” Bob said. “Are you going to be here long?”
“Not too long,” Matt said. “I thought I’d ride out and visit with Smoke for a spell.”
“Yes, I thought that might be what brought you here. Is Smoke back?”
Matt looked confused. “Back? I don’t know—I didn’t know he was gone. This wasn’t a planned trip, I just happened by.”
“Well, he may be back, I don’t know. All I know is he left a few days ago, for who knows where. You never know with Smoke, he is one travelin’ man. Oh, but this time Sally didn’t go with him, so even if he isn’t here, you can say hi to her.”
“Yes, I’ll do that,” Matt replied, disappointed that his old friend Smoke might not be home.
“Yes, Cal, what is it?”
“There’s a rider a’ comin’.”
“Oh, is it Smoke?”
“No, ma’am, it ain’t him. I don’t know who it is.”
