bank of the river.
“What did you expect? St. Louis?” Angus asked. “We ain’t plannin’ on settlin’ here. All we want is to settle up with Mr. Duke Faglier, then get our hands on some of that gold we’ve been hearin’ about. Once we do that, we can take a boat back East and live high and fine.”
“Don’t forget, there’s still a war goin’ on back East,” Chance said.
“Won’t make no never mind to us, we ain’t goin’ to be a-fightin’ it. And iff’en a body is smart, he can make a lot of money durin’ a war. But you got to have money to make money and that’s why we come out here.”
When the boat crew lowered a gangplank down from the bow to the riverbank, the Butrum brothers were the first passengers off the boat.
“Where do we go now?” Percy asked, scratching his crotch as he stood at the top of the riverbank, looking around at the small gray town.
“What about findin’ us some women?” Chance suggested.
“You see any women here?” Percy asked.
Although the main street of the little town was crowded with people, there was not one woman to be seen.
“I’ll be damned,” Chance said, as if noticing that fact for the first time. “You’re right. There ain’t a woman nowhere.”
“Well, while you two is discussin’ somethin’ that you can’t do nothin’ about, I plan to look into somethin’ I can do somethin’ about,” Angus said. “I’m goin’ to have a drink.”
“Where you reckon a saloon is?” Percy asked.
“Hell, it ought not to be hard to find one. Just follow your nose,” Angus replied.
Finding something to drink wasn’t all that difficult. Every other building, it seemed, was a saloon. With no predetermined purpose in mind, other than to find drink, the Butrums headed toward one of them. A crudely painted sign out front identified the establishment as the “North Star.”
Although it was early afternoon, the saloon was crowded with noisy customers. A piano sat in the back of the saloon, with a sign that read, THIS PIANO WAS BROUGHT UPRIVER FROM ST. LOUIS ABOARD THE RIVERBOAT,
Despite the printed plea, the instrument was marked with half a dozen cigar burns and glass-rings, and punctured with three bullet holes.
“Bartender, give me a bottle!” one of the customers said, shouting to be heard above the din. The bartender pulled a bottle from a shelf behind the bar, handed it to the customer, then accepted as payment a pinch of gold dust. Percy watched the operation, then excitedly punched his brother.
“Angus! Did you see how that fella paid for his whiskey?”
“No.”
“With a pinch of gold dust from a bag he’s carryin’,” Percy said.
After Percy’s disclosure, the three brothers began paying more attention to the business going on around them. To their amazement, more than half of all purchases were being made with gold dust.
“Damn!” Angus said. “What they said about findin’ gold up here must be true!”
“Look at that fella over there,” Angus said, pointing to a man at the other end of the bar. His pouch of gold dust was bulging, but that wasn’t the only thing of interest about him. He was also very drunk.
The Butrum brothers watched the drunk until he started outside. They exited the saloon just behind him.
As the drunk staggered down the boardwalk, Angus and Chance followed close behind. In the meantime, Percy ran across the street, then hurried to get ahead of the drunk. Recrossing the street, he started back toward the drunk so that their mark was now between Percy and his two brothers.
“Hey, friend,” Percy said, accosting the drunk as they came together, “could you tell me where the nearest saloon is?”
The drunk chuckled. “Are you blind, mister?” he asked. He made an unsteady wave with his hand. “They are all around here, on both sides of the stre—” That was as far as he got. Angus hit him just behind the ear with the butt of his pistol. The drunk would have fallen, had Chance not caught him. Quickly, the three dragged their victim to a small open space in between the nearest two buildings. Once they had him off the street, Angus reached down to relieve him of his pouch of gold dust.
“I got it!” Angus said, triumphantly.
“How much is there?” Percy asked.
“Enough to buy about anything we want,” Angus replied.
“About the only thing that’s going to buy you boys is some time in jail,” another voice said.
Gasping in surprise at being caught, the three brothers stood up from their victim, and found themselves looking into the barrel of a pistol.
“Sheriff Plummer is going to be real pleased to see you boys,” the man holding the gun said. “I’m his deputy.”
“George, is that you? George Ives?” Angus asked, studying the man who was holding the gun.
The deputy blinked in surprise. “Do you know me, mister?”
“If you’re the George Ives from Missouri, I know you. You used to be good friends with our brother, Mingus Butrum. I’m Angus, these here are my two brothers, Chance and Percy.”
“I’ll be damned,” Ives said. He laughed. “Yes, Mingus and I drank from the same bottle many times before I left Missouri. How’s that old mule doing?”
The smile left Angus’s face. “He was killed by a no ’count polecat by the name of Duke Faglier.”
Ives shook his head. “Faglier? I don’t think I know him.”
“Didn’t none of us know him. He was a farm boy from Clay County. The son of a bitch killed two of my brothers, not only Mingus, but Frank, too.”
“I hope you took care of him,” Ives said.
“We ain’t yet, but we aim to,” Angus said. “That’s why we come out here.”
“He’s out here?”
“He’s comin’ here,” Percy said.
“Yeah, bringin’ a herd of cows,” Chance added. “You ever heard of anything so dumb?”
“I don’t know,” Ives said. “Maybe it’s not so dumb. There could be a lot of money in something like that.”
“Are you really a deputy sheriff?” Angus asked.
Ives laughed. “Yeah,” he said. “Well, sort of. Oh, where are my manners?” He put his gun away, then stuck his hand out to shake hands with Angus.
“What do you mean, sort of?” Angus asked. “Either you are a deputy or you ain’t.”
“Well, I’m deputing for a man named Henry Plummer, who ain’t really a sheriff yet but intends to be one sometime soon.* In the meantime, he’s formed something he calls the Bannack Mining District Vigilance Committee. And he’s appointed himself sheriff. Say, maybe you’d like to join us. I’ll put in a good word with Sheriff Plummer, if you’d like.”
Angus shook his head. “No thanks. I wasn’t cut out to be no deputy sheriff.”
“Don’t be so quick to turn it down. It ain’t like you think,” Ives said. “For example, this pouch of gold you boys just took? Well, now, half of it will go to Henry Plummer, him bein’ the sheriff and all. He’ll call it a fine against that *Henry Plummer wasn’t elected sheriff of the Bannack Mining District Vigilance Committee until May of 1863 fella for bein’ drunk. But I get to keep the other half as a reward for findin’ it. Only, if you’d like to join up with us, why, I’ll let you boys have it. Believe me, there’s plenty more where this came from.”
“Wait a minute,” Percy said. “What do you mean, you will let us keep half of it? It ain’t up to you to give us nothin’. Hell, we the ones that took it in the first place. It’s all ours.”
“Do you think so?” Ives asked.
“Don’t pay no attention to Percy, George,” Angus said quickly. He glared at his brother. “I’ll take care of him. We’ll be glad to join up with you.”
“You’ll join up with us iff’n I can talk Sheriff Plummer into agreein’ to take you,” Ives said, glaring at Percy. “And with that kind of attitude, I don’t know as he will.”
