Showdown at Dead End Canyon

“No!” Bailey said. “That’s enough. I had no business asking such a question.”

Bailey shivered in what could only be sexual excitation, and yet she knew it was not because of any attraction to Dancer, whose badly scarred face repulsed her. The sexual excitation came from the act of killing itself.

She cleared her throat, then closed the newspaper.

“They’ll be here soon,” she said.

Addison Ford, Administrative Assistant to the Honorable Columbus Delano, Secretary of the Interior, was traveling at government expense, on government business. The trip from Washington had been long and tiring. But because their accommodations were first class all the way, it had not been what he would have called an exhausting trip.

It was almost as if Ford, his wife Mary, his son-in-law Jason White, and his daughter Lucy were traveling by private accommodations, because they were the only passengers in the parlor car, and had been since leaving Omaha.

Ford was carrying a letter from Secretary Delano granting him full power of attorney to act on behalf of the Secretary of Interior. Ostensibly, he was making the trip as one of exploration to determine whether the application to build the Sweetwater Railroad should be favorably considered.

“There have been too many railroads built for no other purpose than to provide the railroad builder with free land,” Delano told his assistant before he left Washington. “I place full trust and confidence in you to make the correct decision, then to act upon that decision.”

“I will not betray your trust and confidence,” Ford had replied. Even as Ford made that statement, he was holding a bank draft for $10,000, an inducement he had personally received from the Sweetwater Railroad. It had been loosely described as an offset against any expenses incurred while investigating the application, but it was a bribe, pure and simple.

The money was good, but Addison Ford wanted much more than $10,000, and he was certain that in head- to-head negotiations with the person who had paid him this bribe, he would be able to secure a larger piece of the pie.

Chapter 5

WHEN THE WESTERN FLYER ARRIVED, BAILEY AND Dancer boarded the train, then were shown to their first-class accommodations in the parlor car. Before the train got underway, though, Bailey stepped into the next parlor car, in which there were only two men and two women. They looked up when she entered and looked at her for a moment longer than was courteous, but Bailey said nothing.

Seeing that she wasn’t going to leave the car, the older of the two men stood up.

“Is there something I can help you with, madam?” he inquired.

“Are you Addison Ford?” Bailey asked.

“I am.”

“I’m McPherson,” Bailey said.

When the expression of Ford’s face didn’t change, she said, “Bailey McPherson? I believe we have been doing some business together.”

“Bailey McPherson? You’re a woman?”

Bailey laughed. “Yes, I am.”

“I thought…”

“I know what you thought,” Bailey said. “And I apologize if I let you think that, but it was by design. It was my belief that we would be able to negotiate our arrangement better if you thought I was a man.”

“Yes, well…Miss…McPherson, it is a pleasure to meet you at last. And I assure you, your gender will have no bearing on our arrangement.” He stuck his hand out.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Bailey said, shaking.

“Let me introduce my traveling companions,” Ford said. “This is my wife, Mary; my daughter, Lucy White; and her husband, Jason. Jason is the civil engineer who will be doing the surveying for us.”

Bailey shook hands with all of them, then said to Ford, “Secretary of Interior Delano is with us on this?”

Ford smiled. “I have with me full power of attorney to act for the Secretary. He isn’t the one you need to please. I am.”

“Oh?” Bailey said. “Tell me, Mr. Ford, are you suggesting that you were not pleased by the, uh…inducement I sent you to ensure your cooperation?”

“Oh, I was very pleased with it,” Ford replied. “As a goodwill gesture,” he added pointedly.

“A goodwill gesture?” Bailey asked.

“Yes, to—as they say—ensure tranquility between us.”

“I see.”

Ford cleared his throat. “Miss McPherson, surely you understand all of the intricacies and details I must arrange. There are other agencies to bring on board, congressmen to convince, and expenses to incur. All of that will have to be funded. And of course, we both know that you stand to make a great deal of money from this operation. A great deal of money. As the only person who can bring all this to fruition for you, I don’t think it is at all unreasonable to expect to be generously compensated.”

“Very well, Mr. Ford,” Bailey agreed. “We’ll have an organizational meeting first thing after we reach Green River.”

“I look forward to it,” Ford said.

The engineer blew two short blasts on the whistle, and, with a series of jerks, the train started forward.

“I’ll be getting back to my car,” Bailey said. “We’ll postpone any further business discussion until later. In the meantime, please enjoy your trip.”

It was now two days since Poke and Gilley brought Pamela to the little cabin, and she had been tied up the whole time. Her back and legs were cramped and the ropes were beginning to rub blisters on her wrists. She had no idea where she was, nor did she know how she got here, though she was vaguely aware of being awakened in her berth to the smell of the chloroform-soaked handkerchief.

“You want some jerky?” Poke asked.

“No, thank you,” she replied.

“Here, take a piece,” Poke said, offering her a piece of the dried meat.

Pamela shook her head. “I don’t want it.”

“You got to eat something. You ain’t et a bite since we brung you here.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“How can you not be hungry?”

“It stinks in here,” Pamela said. “You stink. How can I have an appetite under such conditions?”

Gilley laughed. “Poke, I done tol’ you that you smelled somethin’ awful. By God, man, your stink would gag a maggot on the gut wagon.”

“You ain’t no bed of roses yourself,” Poke replied angrily. He looked back at Pamela, who was still in her nightgown. “Look, if you don’t want to eat, I ain’t goin’ to beg you. It ain’t no skin off my ass, that’s for sure,” he said. He put the proffered piece in his own mouth and tore a chunk off with his crooked yellow teeth.

“She’s got to eat sometime,” Gilley said. “We ain’t goin’ to get nothin’ from her pa if she starves herself to death.”

“You aren’t going to get anything from him anyway,” Pamela said.

“That’s what you think, girlie. This has all done been thunk out for us,” Poke said.

Despite her condition and situation, Pamela chuckled. “It would have to have been thought out for you by someone else,” she said.

“Hey, Poke. Someone’s comin’!” Gilley said.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s somebody come lookin’ for the woman.”

“Better get a gag on her so’s she can’t yell out none,” Poke said.

Less than an hour earlier the sky had been clear and blue, but now dark rolling clouds darkened the day and