“Wait a minute.” Fargo needed to hear more. Something wasn’t adding up. “The bear was forty feet off when it charged? And you only got off one shot? How close was it when you fired?”
“Oh, I’d say five or six feet.”
“What the hell?” Owen said.
Fargo didn’t understand it, either. “Why did you wait so long to shoot? You could have put two or three shots into it in that time.” Even with a single-shot rifle.
Senator Keever gave them his best politician’s smile. “That wouldn’t be very sporting, now would it?”
Both Fargo and Owen said at the same time, “Sporting?”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen.” Keever chortled at their confusion. “What do you take me for? I’m not one of those hunters who likes to sit a thousand yards off and drop a buffalo. Or wait up in a tree for a buck to come by. No, I like my contests to be fair.”
“Contests?” Owen repeated.
“Yes. A battle of skill versus brawn, of courage versus savagery. To put it more simply, I like the animal to have as much a chance to kill me as I do to kill it. Most of the time, anyway.”
“That’s plumb stupid,” Owen said.
“Think what you will. I pride myself on always giving the other fellow, or the other animal, an even break. Where was the challenge in shooting the bear when it was forty feet away? I let it get close enough to use its teeth and claws, and then I shot it.”
“You do this a lot?” Fargo wanted to know.
“Almost always. It’s how I test myself, how I take my own measure as a man. Surely the two of you can understand?”
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Owen said.
“I don’t do it all the time. Now and then I’ll want a special trophy so much, I’ll settle for killing the animal any way I can.”
“Don’t take this personal, Senator,” Owen said, “but you’re running around with an empty wagon between your ears.”
“And you?” Senator Keever appealed to Fargo. “Do you think it ridiculous of me, too?”
Fargo was about to say yes but Keever didn’t give him the chance.
“Consider, gentlemen, the lives you live. Day in, day out, you roam the raw frontier. You never know from one day to the next what you’ll run into. Hostiles, wild beasts, the elements, all sorts of things can kill you. Yet you meet each day as the challenge it is without flinching.”
Owen glanced at Fargo. “What the hell is he talking about?”
“Courage, Mr. Owen. The very core of what makes a man a man. With it, we can surmount any obstacle. Without it, we are mice in human guise.”
“There must be a better way to test yourself,” Fargo said.
“Such as? In combat, perhaps? The United States isn’t at war right now or I would seek an officer’s commission. How else, then? By gambling? Cards have never appealed to me. The outcome is more chance than anything. What does that leave? Some sport, perhaps? Golf or rowing or maybe baseball? Hitting a little ball with a stick strikes me as about the most unmanly activity on the planet.”
“You sure have a way with words,” Owen praised him.
Fargo folded his arms across his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me all this before you hired me?”
“Because you might have refused to guide me and I wanted you and only you.”
“Why?”
Instead of answering, Senator Keever stepped to the bear and patted its shoulder. “A fine adversary, if I say so myself. Next I want to shoot a bull buffalo and after that a grizzly.”
“Are you going to pull the same stunt with them?” Owen asked.
“Of course.”
“It was nice knowing you.”
“I’ll do my best not to get myself killed.” As an afterthought the senator added, “Or either of you killed, as well.”
5
Gerty threw down her fork and stamped her foot. “I hate deer meat! I hate it, hate it, hate it! I hate rabbit meat, too. Deer or rabbit. Rabbit or deer. Over and over and over.”
“You can always go hungry,” Fargo said to make her madder. He had been invited to supper with the Keevers. The senator had brought a folding table along and insisted his family use it for each and every meal.
Rebecca was swallowing tea, and coughed.
“Did you hear him, Father?” Gerty asked. “Did you hear how he talks to me? Yet you won’t get rid of him like I’ve asked you.”
“Now, now, child,” Fulton Keever tried to soothe her. “I’ve explained before that Mr. Fargo is indispensable. Which means I can’t do without him.”
“I know what it means,” Gerty declared. “I might be young but I’m not stupid.”
Fargo couldn’t let it go. “That’s one opinion.” All during the meal she had criticized him, carping that he didn’t chew with his mouth closed, that he drank water like a horse, that he didn’t use the right spoon when he had soup. It got so, Fargo would dearly love to chuck her off a cliff and see if she bounced.
“He’s doing it again, Father.”
Senator Keever sighed. “Mr. Fargo, must you? You’re a grown man. It’s beneath you to bait her.”
Rebecca came to Fargo’s defense. “She’s been picking on him all evening. Surely you noticed?”
“A child’s antics, nothing more,” Keever said indulgently. “And I should think you would have more sympathy for a member of your own family.”
“Gertrude means the world to me. You know that. But it wouldn’t hurt if she learned some manners.”
Gerty’s mouth twisted in a cruel smirk. “You wouldn’t say that if you were my real mother.”
At last Senator Keever showed a flash of anger. “Enough, child. I made you promise never to bring that up, remember?”
“Real mother?” Fargo’s curiosity had been piqued. He was under the impression Rebecca was the only wife Keever ever had. Which meant the senator had been tempted by a greener pasture.
Keever raised his napkin from his lap and slapped it down on the table. “Now see what you’ve done, Gertrude? There are some lapses I won’t tolerate, and this is one of them.” He looked around as if to make sure no one else could hear him. “I want your solemn word, Mr. Fargo, that you won’t repeat what I’m about to tell you. Not to another living soul ever.”
“You have it,” Fargo said.
“I was very close to another woman once. Her name was Priscilla. We weren’t married but we took it for granted that we would one day tie the knot.”
Fargo saw a change in Rebecca’s expression. One thing was obvious; she didn’t like this talk of the “other woman.”
The senator gazed off into the dark. “Priscilla would be seated at this table now but for the unforeseen. You see, she became in the family way. I was all for marrying her but God had other ideas.” Keever’s eyes mirrored sorrow. “She came down with consumption.”
Fargo felt genuine sympathy. Consumption claimed a lot of folks. Some said it was the leading killer in New England and other parts of the country, more so than any other disease.
“The doctors tried their best but there was nothing they could do.” Keever stopped and turned to Gerty. “Why don’t you go play? Maybe take your doll over by the fire for a while.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I wasn’t asking, I was telling you. It’s time for grown-up talk and you’re not an adult yet.”
“If it’s about my real mother I have the right to hear.”
Keever grew stern. “I’m a lawyer, not you. I know what your rights are. Now go get your doll and sit by the fire. Or so help me I’ll take the doll from you and not give it back until we’re home.”
