“I don’t care who we sell the guns to, as long as we get paid,” Davis said. “And seein’ as how you done stole the guns, looks to me like you don’t have no choice but to go along with it your ownself. ’Cause when you think about it, you are in this for the money, same as we are.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Depro agreed. “It don’t really make me no never mind what happens to the guns as long as I get paid for ’em. What price do you think we can get for them?”
“We’ve already set the price at ten dollars apiece so, with what we’ve got here, I figure that comes to about thirteen hundred dollars,” Davis said.
“How much will that be for each of us?” Regret asked.
“Four hundred and thirty-three dollars each, with one dollar left over,” Davis said. He looked at Depro. “Which is damn near a year’s salary for you.”
“Here’s another way we can make some money,” Depro said. “I’ve already got me about ten thousand rounds, all divided up according to caliber. If we don’t give the Injuns bullets when we sell ’em the guns, why, we could charge them for the bullets too, oh, say maybe a nickel a round and that would be another five hundred dollars.”
“Sounds good to me,” Davis said. “But how did you come by the bullets?”
“When we were told to ship them guns back to Jefferson Barracks, what they also done was ask for the ammunition too,” Depro explained. He smiled. “But I hid all the bullets away same as I hid the guns. That means I’ve got all the ammunition we will need.”
“I tell you what,” Davis said. “What do you say we just let the Indians play with the guns without bullets for a while? I’m sure they can come up with some on their own, but probably not more ’n a handful. And all that’s goin’ to do is make ’em hungry for more.”
“Ha! They might get so hungry for them bullets that we could fetch a dime apiece for ’em,” Regret said.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Davis said.
As it so happened, Buffalo Bill Cody had several horses being kept for him at the livery at DeMaris Springs, so the day after their meeting with Bellefontaine, Cody, Falcon, and Ingraham walked down to the DeMaris Corral.
“I keep horses here so that I have them handy when I come out,” Cody said. “It helps that the DeMaris Corral is one of the few business establishments in town that Bellefontaine doesn’t own.”
When they stepped into the livery barn, they saw two men putting a wheel on a buckboard.
“Karl, are you sure you know what you are doing?” Cody called out.
A big man, whose rolled-up sleeves displayed welldeveloped biceps, turned toward the three men.
“More better than you know, I think,” Karl replied. Grabbing a rag to wipe his hands, the big man advanced toward the three, then a wide smile spread across his face. “Cody, in town I heard you were,” he said as he stuck out his hand.
“It is I heard you were in town, you dumb Dutchman, not in town I heard you were,” Cody said.
That there was no animosity between the two men was indicated by the mutual smiles, and a hearty handshake.
“Gentleman, this thickheaded Dutchman is Karl Maas. And you aren’t likely to find a better man anywhere. Karl, this is Falcon MacCallister and Prentiss Ingraham.”
“Falcon MacCallister,
“When are you going to sell this place and come join my Wild West Exhibition? I would put you in charge of all my stock and rolling equipment. I was in Germany two months ago. Why, just think, if you had been working for me then, you could have gone back.”
“And why to the place I left, would I want to go back?”
Cody chuckled. “A good enough question, I suppose. Listen, how about picking out three of my best horses and having them saddled for us?”
“You are going to look at the site where the town you will build?” Karl asked.
“Yes. Then we are going to ride through Yellowstone, and go on to Cinnabar. I’m going to try out some new cowboys for my show there.”
“Al,” Maas called to one of his employees, “three of Herr Cody’s best horses, you saddle.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Maas,” Al replied.
“You weren’t at the meeting this morning when we talked about the Indian problem,” Cody said.
“There is no Indian problem,” Maas said, shaking his head. “I think it is something Bellefontaine wants.”
“Why would he want that?” Falcon asked.
“I think he wants all the basin for himself so he can build his mine. If there is Indian problem, then all prospectors and homesteaders will not be able to stay. And the Indians too, will not be able to stay because the army will come in and move them.”
“Is there that much gold in this valley?” Falcon asked.
“I think there is no gold,” Maass said, “but there is much coal. Bellefontaine wants to mine the coal to sell to the railroad. That will make him much money, I think.”
“Damn,” Cody said, snapping his fingers. “You know, Karl, you may not be as thickheaded as people think. Bellefontaine is making everyone think he is looking for gold, but that is just a ruse. He has been after coal all
