Chapter 17
ON THE DAY AFTER THE FUNERAL, EVERYONE IN town knew who was behind the Sweetwater Railroad Company, because a big sign went up on the front of Bailey McPherson’s building:
SWEETWATER RAILROAD COMPANY
BAILEY MCPHERSON, PRESIDENT
Dorchester came down to the depot to see Cindy off on her trip back East. Cindy, with $12,500 safely tucked away in the false bottom of her trunk, expressed her thanks, then waved a tearful good-bye as she got on the train.
Dorchester said nothing when he first saw the sign, but as soon as the eastbound train left the station, he walked down the street, then into the Sweetwater Railroad Company’s office.
A young woman was in the front office, seated at a desk behind the counter. When Dorchester entered, she said, “Yes, sir, may I help you?”
“I would like to talk to Miss McPherson.”
“I believe Miss McPherson is busy now.”
“Tell her to get unbusy.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Tell her Dorchester is here.”
“Sir, I told you, she is—”
“Now!” Dorchester shouted, banging his fist so hard on the counter that it caused the windows in the building to rattle.
“It’s all right, Mrs. White,” Bailey said, appearing in the door then. “I’ll talk to the gentleman.” Bailey smiled at Dorchester, though the smile was obviously forced. “It’s good to see you, Sir James,” she said.
“Sir James?” the young woman repeated.
“Oh, yes, dear. Allow me to introduce you to our resident royalty,” Bailey said. “This is Brigadier Sir James Spencer Dorchester, Earl of Preston, Viscount of Davencourt.”
“You can dispense with all of that,” Dorchester said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I want to know what is going on with this railroad business.”
“Oh, yes, exciting, isn’t it? I’m building a railroad from here up to the Sweetwater. To South Pass.”
“What in heaven’s name for? There are no settlements between here and the Sweetwater. And even South Pass is a temporary settlement, until all this gold fever passes.”
“Well then, perhaps the railroad will ensure that a real city develops there. Wouldn’t that be exciting?”
“In the meantime you are taking land away from honest ranchers and farmers. Hilliard, Miller, who else will you be getting land from?”
“What a coincidence that you would ask,” Bailey said. “You’re coming in here will save us the trouble of serving you.”
“Serving me?”
“Yes. I’m afraid we are going to be taking a five mile strip of land all along the Green River and up the Big Sandy. That means that from you we will be taking a total of, let me see…yes, here it is. One hundred and forty-four thousand acres.”
“What?”
“I would advise you to move all your stock off that property,” Bailey said.
“We’ll see about this,” Dorchester said angrily. “This is outrageous, and one way or another I’m going to stop you.”
“I don’t think so,” Bailey said. “I have the law on my side.”
Hawke was sitting at a table in the cookhouse, drinking coffee and examining a topographic map of the area between Green River and the Sweetwater Mountains. He looked up when two men came in and stepped up to the table, their hats in their hand.
“Are you the new foreman Willie told us about?” one of the men asked. “Are you Hawke?”
“I am,” Hawke said. “What do you need?”
“Well, the thing is, Hawke, uh, Mr. Hawke, me ’n’ Eddie Taylor…” He paused in mid-sentence and pointed to the man standing beside him. “This here is Eddie Taylor, I’m Win Woodruff. And the thing is, we used to cowboy here.”
“And we was good hands too,” Eddie said. “You can ask any of the other cowboys here and they’ll tell you. We was good hands.”
“But we quit to go hunt for gold,” Win continued.
“Only we didn’t find none,” Eddie said.
“’Cause I don’t think there’s none there,” Win added.
Hawke stared at the two men. He knew that they wanted him to ask them to come back to work for the ranch, but he was determined to make them ask.
“So, uh…” Win said. He cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, so, we thought maybe…”
“Maybe we could get our old job back,” Eddie put in quickly.
“When’s the last time you two men had a good meal?” Hawke asked.
“Well, we had some jerky this mornin’,” Eddie said.
“And yesterday,” Win added. “And the day before that too.”
“But now, a real sit down and eat kind of meal,” Eddie said, “well, sir, that’s been a good while.”
“Have the cookie fix you a plate,” Hawke said. “I can’t be hiring cowboys who are so hungry they can’t work.”
Win and Eddie smiled broadly, then hurried over to the big wood-burning stove where the cook was already preparing supper. He gave them both a generous helping of some stew, left over from lunch. There was also half a pan of leftover biscuits, and the two men cleaned it out.
Bringing their food back to the table, they sat down and began eating, wolfing the food down ravenously. It wasn’t until Win had cleaned his plate and eaten the last biscuit that he happened to glance across the table to the map Hawke was studying.
“That there map ain’t exactly right,” he said casually.
“What?”
“That map,” Win said, pointing. “Accordin’ to that map, this whole area here is flatland. But that ain’t the way of it. Crowley’s Ridge is there, but this here map don’t show it.”
“Do you know how to read a map?”
“Yeah,” Win said. “’Afore I cowboyed, I worked some for the Union Pacific when they was buildin’ the railroad. I had to read maps all the time, and sometimes even drawed ’em.”
Hawke turned the map around. “Where is this ridge you were talking about?”
“Right here,” Win said, “betwixt the Big Sandy and the Pacific rivers.” He traced the location with his finger.
“Can you point out the location of the Hilliard ranch?” Hawke asked.
“Sure, it’s right here,” Win said.
“Just on the other side of Crowley’s Ridge?”
“Yes.”
“Damn,” Hawke said with a sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“There are five hundred head of cattle up here,” Hawke said, putting his hand on the Hilliard ranch, “that I need to get down here. I was trying to find the best route. But with this Crowley’s Ridge in the way…” He let the sentence hang.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Win said. “The Little Sandy River comes right through the middle of the ridge. There’s a break there that’s prob’ly a hundred yards wide or so. You could bring five hundred beeves through there easy. Me ’n’ Eddie will help bring ’em down, won’t we, Eddie?”
“Sure will,” Eddie said, mumbling around a mouth full of biscuit.
“Thanks, I can use you.”
