“All right, get ready. I’ll give you the sign.”
Ray watched the wagons approach. Then, as they drew even with the western edge of the little thicket, he brought his hand down.
“Now!” he shouted.
Behind him he heard three more blows of the ax, then the creaking snapping sound of a large tree coming down. It fell through branches of neighboring trees, then hit the ground with a loud crashing noise, sending up a cloud of dust as it did so. The tree fell in such a way as to completely block the road.
True heard the tree coming down before he saw it, and having once worked as a lumberjack, he recognized the sound immediately. He hauled back on the team, stopping the wagon just as the tree crashed across the road in front of him.
“Hey!” he called. “Are you a fool, falling a tree across the road like that? Don’t you know that could kill someone? Besides which, how are we supposed to get through here?”
Four men came riding out of the woods then, and they approached the wagons as calmly as if they were about to ask for directions.
“You ain’t,” one of the riders said.
“I know you,” True said. “You’re one of the Clintons, ain’t you?”
Cletus pulled his pistol and shot True at point-blank range.
“Mr. True!” Mickey called, but before he could say another word, he was also shot.
The driver of the third wagon jumped down and started to run.
“Run him down,” Ray Clinton shouted, and the other two riders spurred their horses into a gallop. Catching up with him, they shot him as well.
“Burn the wagons.”
Cletus Clinton had a can of kerosene tied to his saddle, and he began pouring it on the three wagons. Then, going back to each one, he struck a match and dropped it on the little wet spot of kerosene, and the flames leapt up. In less than a minute, all three wagons were burning.
“Let’s go,” Ray said.
Kathleen Garrison was waiting in the freight office for Mr. Thompson to come back in from the wagon yard. She was an exceptionally pretty girl, tall and willowy, with high cheekbones, bright blue eyes, and long, chestnut hair that hung down her back.
Thompson came back inside. “I checked with the others,” he said. “I don’t reckon True has come in yet. Ain’t nobody seen him, and the wagons is still gone.”
“I thought they would be here by noon,” Kathleen said. “That’s what we were told.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know that’s what we told you,” Thompson agreed. “I don’t know what’s keepin’ him. He should’a been in a couple of hours ago. Could be one of the wagons broke an axle or something. If so, they would have all stayed back until it got fixed.”
“My father really needs those supplies, Mr. Thompson,” Kathleen said. “Would you please send someone over to let us know the moment they arrive?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do that,” Thompson replied. He chuckled. “Even though I’m sort of diggin’ my own grave, so to speak. I mean, if your pa gets that railroad built, then who’ll be usin’ my freight wagons?”
“Why, Mr. Thompson,” Kathleen said. “When the railroad is built, your business is likely to double.”
“Double? How do you see that?”
“How do you suppose people who have things to ship by rail are going to get them here to the railhead?” Kathleen asked. “They’ll have to use your wagons. And with the railroad will come more people, which means more business.”
Thompson stroked his chin for a moment, then nodded in agreement.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling broadly. “Yeah, now that I think about it, you might just be right at that.”
“Of course, I’m right,” Kathleen said.
“You tell the general I’ll let him know the moment the shipment gets here.”
“I’ll do that, Mr. Thompson, and thank you.”
Leaving the freight office, Kathleen walked down to the opposite end of town to a small building that was attached to the side of the hardware store. A sign in front of the building advertised this to be the office of the Colorado, New Mexico, and Texas Railroad Company, though as Garrison was quick to point out, this was only temporary.
A little bell rang when Kathleen pushed open the door of the office. Her father was leaning over a table, examining a map. He looked up as Kathleen came into the office.
“Kathleen, the county commissioners just gave us final clearance for passage all the way to La Junta. There’s nothing can stop us now,” he said.
“Oh, Papa, that’s wonderful!”
“What about the building materials?” Garrison asked. “I’d like to get the depot built right away.”
“The shipment hasn’t arrived yet.”
“It hasn’t?” he asked, the expression on his face registering his surprise. “I received a telegram that they left
