“I’m closed!” he roared at them through the rain. “Gawdammit! What are you pair of fools doing out in this nasty weather!”
“Passing through,” Nathan said. “As you can see, I’ve got a bunch of fine horses and they need shelter. Do you have dry stalls in this barn?”
“For all them horses?” Waite asked, looking past the men to the bedraggled band.
“Yeah,” Nathan said, getting angry and impatient as the rain began to fall even harder. “Can we come in and talk, or do we have to sit here in this pouring rain and haggle?”
“Before any of you come inside, you’d better know that it will cost you plenty for all those horses,” Waite warned.
“I can pay a fair price.”
“And for another thing,” Waite said, “hay is at a premium this time of year.”
“I want them all grained and curried,” Nathan said, ignoring the fool. “Every last one of them.”
“Then come on inside,” Waite finally offered. “But leave that fool Rolf Swensen and the horses outside until I see the color of your money.”
Nathan glanced over at the wet and bedraggled kid. “This will only take a minute.”
“He’s gonna skin you alive,” Rolf warned.
“Maybe.”
Nathan spurred his mount into the barn and dismounted. He swept off his hat, sending rainwater flying. The interior of the barn was dim and dusty. Nathan saw only two horses in the whole big place.
“You better be willing to pay me handsomely for this trouble, or you can ride on, storm or no damned storm,” Waite threatened.
“What do you consider ‘handsomely’?”
“Two dollars a horse per night. ‘Course, that would cover the grain and the curryin’. I got a boy that comes over, but the little shit doesn’t work cheap.”
“Why don’t you curry them?”
“I’m way too old and lazy. Now, mister, do you want to pay … or ride?”
Nathan reached into his left pocket, where he kept a roll of counterfeit hundred-dollar bills. When he pulled them out and laid them flat in the palm of his hand, Waite’s watery old eyes bugged.
“Holy Jaysus!” the old liveryman exclaimed. “What did you do, rob a bank?”
“No, the United States Mint.”
The old man barked a laugh. “I believe you!”
“Here,” Nathan said, giving the old man one of the bills. “You take real good care of these horses. Clean our saddles and equipment and then soak them in a good leather oil. We’ll settle up the account when I am ready to leave town.”
“Why … why sure! How long are you stayin’, mister?”
“That all depends on how much I enjoy myself here. I assume that there are plenty of poker games and pretty women in this town?”
“Yes, sir! And, with all your money, you’ll have both comin’ to find you.”
“Just don’t say anything about the money, Mr. Waite. If I hear that you’ve been gossiping or that you’ve touched any of my packs, it’ll cost you a big tip. You see, I’m a newspaperman and I’ve got some plates and stuff that I don’t want tampered with. Is that understood?”
Waite couldn’t keep his eyes off all the hundred-dollar bills. “Whatever you say,” he said. “I mean to please.”
“Ask the kid to come in,” Nathan said, removing his saddlebags and then leading the pack horse with the treasury plates into the nearest stall. “And smile at him, Mr. Waite! Make him feel welcome!”
“Yes, sir!” the old man cried, grinning so broadly that he looked like he’d been stricken with facial rigor mortis.
“What did you ever do to make him so happy?” Rolf asked as soon as they were on their way back through the mud and rain to the best hotel in town.
“I paid him a lot more money than he expected,” Nathan shouted as a particularly loud boom of thunder shook the heavens.
“Dammit, you’re going to spend all our ranch money!” Rolf yelled as they jumped out of the street and onto the boardwalk, then marched into the hotel. “You ain’t going to have enough money left to buy even an acre of sagebrush if you don’t be careful.”
“Maybe not,” Nathan said, stomping his boots and whipping water from his Stetson as he marched across the lobby floor and planted himself in front of the solid walnut registration desk. “Clerk!”
An older gentleman appeared. He wore a suit and tie, and when he saw Nathan and Rolf, muddy and unshaven, he frowned, drummed his fingers impatiently, and said, “Yes?”
“Two rooms with baths,” Nathan ordered. “Two of your best rooms.”
The clerk studied them and then he said, “I’m afraid that our rates might be a little more than you might wish to pay.”
Once again Nathan dragged out his roll of hundred-dollar bills, and although this old man was well dressed and
