“I’ve read
“I must say, I am impressed.”
“Easily so, I would surmise.”
“Yes, well, perhaps another day we can discuss English literature. In the meantime, I would be interested in what exactly brought on the confrontation between you and Mr. Butrum?”
“He wanted to see proof that I had paid the toll.”
“A simple enough request. Why didn’t you show him the coupon?”
“I had no coupon, because I paid no toll.”
“I see,” Denbigh said. “They tell me that Mr. Butrum came after you with his gun already in his hand. And you, or at least so they say, were standing there holding a beer in your hand. Yet despite that, you were able to drop the beer, withdraw your pistol from it sheath, and fire, all before he could shoot a second time. Is that true?”
“It must be true if that’s what you heard,” Matt said. “You don’t strike me as a man who is easily lied to.”
Denbigh nodded. “Very astute of you, Mr. Jensen. Very astute,” he said.
“I hear that you have taken a position with the newspaper.”
“I have.”
“You are a man who is obviously good with a pistol, and despite a lack of formal education, you show a surprising acquaintance with Chaucer, but you would take a job with a small-town newspaper?”
“It is honest employment.”
“Surely, your salary is paltry. How would you like to come work for me? I would put you in charge of all my associates. I think you would be surprised and well satisfied with the compensation I can offer.”
“From what I noticed when you rode into town, you already have someone in charge.”
Denbigh smiled. “You must be talking about Mr. Meacham. Have you ever met him?”
“I’ve seen him around. I’ve never met him.”
“I’m sure the two of you could work well together, but let’s rectify the fact that you have never met, shall we?” Denbigh said. He held his hand up toward Meacham and motioned him to come over.
“This is Lucas Meacham,” Denbigh said when Meacham joined them. “Mr. Meacham, this is Matt Jensen.”
Meacham started to stick out his hand, but when he saw that Matt was not going to reciprocate, he pulled it back.
“We’ve met,” Meacham said.
“No, we haven’t,” Matt replied. “Though you have been following me for the last several days.”
“I wasn’t following you,” Meacham said. “I was coming here to take a job with Lord Denbigh.”
“Would that be the job he just offered me?” Matt asked.
Meacham glanced over quickly toward Denbigh. “Is that true?” he asked.
Denbigh chuckled. “Worry not, my dear fellow. It was merely a matter of banter,” he said. “Your job, as long as you perform it adequately, is secure.”
“What exactly is that job, Mr. Meacham?” Matt asked.
“To take care of things,” Meacham answered.
“The way Butrum took care of things?”
Meacham smiled. “Turns out he wasn’t all that good at it, was he?”
“Shall we get under way, Mr. Meacham?” Denbigh asked.
“Yes, sir,” Meacham said. Then to Matt, he said, “I have a feeling that we’re goin’ to meet again.”
“I have that feeling as well,” Matt said.
Meacham nodded, then turned and walked away.
Matt watched while Denbigh climbed into his coach, then as Meacham mounted and took his position in front of the others, who, in military precision, formed into columns to escort the coach. At a signal from Meacham, the coach, and all the men who had accompanied Denbigh, left, once again filling the street with the echo of horses’ hooves.
John Bryce had purposely held himself apart from the conversation of Matt and Denbigh, as well as Matt and Meacham. Now he walked over to join Matt.
“You said you have heard of him,” John said, nodding toward Meacham.
“Yes, I’ve heard of him.”
“Is he going to be trouble for us?”
“I imagine that is his intention,” Matt replied without elaboration.
Lisenby stood alongside the elegant, glass-sided hearse until Denbigh and the others had departed. Then he called out to one of his men, who was waiting back in the barn.
“Bring up the wagon.”
