“I fear that the rustling is so pervasive that it would overwhelm the resources of a sheriff or U.S. Marshal. However, I do have suggestion as to how it can be handled, but that will require your official approval.”
“Of course, I’ll do anything I can. What do you require of me?”
* * *
After leaving the capitol building with the governor’s approval of the plan he had proposed, Houser returned to the Crooked Creek Saloon, where he saw Hawke sitting alone at one of the tables.
“Where are the others?” he asked.
“Jaco is out back takin’ a piss. Wix ’n Evans is still upstairs with the whores they got last night. Sid ’n Pete’s next door havin’ their breakfast.”
Even as they were talking, Jaco came back into the saloon.
“I will go next door and retrieve my brother and Pete. You two go up ’n get Wix and Evans down here.”
“I told you, they was both with whores right now,” Hawke said.
Houser smiled. “Then you should have no trouble finding them, should you?”
“Ha!” Jaco said. “Come on, Hawke, I’m goin’ to get a kick out of this.”
“Yeah,” Hawke said, also grinning at the prospect. “Yeah, come to think of it, I will, too. I’ll take Wix. I want to see the look on his face when I pull him offen the whore.”
“The first thing I want all of you to do is sell your horses,” Houser ordered when they had regathered.
“Wait a minute, now, why should we do that?” Shamrock asked. “I got me a real good horse. It’s a palomino, ’n ’bout the purtiest thing you ever seen.”
“Think about it, Thomas. A horse like that is sure to stand out. By divesting yourselves of your horses you can sever one of the links that could lead the authorities to you. Because of the exposure, I don’t even want to risk going on a train, so to ensure our privacy, I have rented a stagecoach to take us back to my ranch.”
“What’ll we do for horses once we get there?” Jaco asked.
“When we reach my ranch, I will provide you with fresh mounts.”
“Wait a minute,” Shamrock said. “This work you got in mind for us, ain’t workin’ on your ranch is it? ’Cause I ain’t no ranch hand ’n they ain’t none of these boys that’s ranch hands, neither. If that’s what you got in mind, you can just go on back to Chugwater, ’n me ’n the others will keep our horses ’n go somewhere else.”
“I have no intention of employing you as cowboys,” Houser said. “As you have so ungrammatically stated, you would be useless in such an endeavor. I have something entirely different in mind, and something that shall prove to be more lucrative for you.”
“More what?” Hawke asked.
“He means something that will make a lot of money,” Shamrock said. “My brother always has had him a highfalutin way of talkin’.”
“Well,” Hawke said with a broad smile. “Iffen he has a way of us makin’ a lot of money like he made for you, why, he can talk any way he wants to. It sure as hell don’t make no nevermind to me.”
“Go down to the livery and sell your horses,” Houser said. “I’ve already spoken to Mr. Abney, and he said that he would be happy to do business with you.”
“Yeah? For how much?” Wix asked.
“You will take whatever he offers,” Houser said. “We don’t have time for any lengthy negotiations. I want to get under way as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, well, I ain’t goin’ to sell my horse without I get a good price,” Wix insisted.
“Understand this, all of you,” Houser said. “If you are going to work for me, I will expect unquestioned obedience to my every command. If you can’t do that, I’ll have no use for you.”
He looked directly at Wix. “And that includes my order to sell your horses. Now, you either sell your horse for the sum Mr. Abney offers, or you keep your horse and ride away. Your absence alone will not seriously impair the task I will be setting for the others.”
“I’ll sell my horse,” Wix said, the challenge gone from his voice.
“I rather thought you would,” Houser said.
Chapter Eighteen
As Shamrock and the men with him went about their business of selling their horses, at this very moment 250 miles south of Cheyenne, Lucien Bodine was in Colorado on his way north. He had learned that his brother was buried in Chugwater, Wyoming.
He was facing two problems now. He didn’t know exactly where Chugwater was, and he had no money. He wasn’t worried too much about the first problem. He figured he would be able to find Chugwater once he reached Wyoming, and he had just seen the solution to the second problem, that of no money.
He was at the crest of a hill, looking down at an isolated store ahead of him. There were actually two structures, one a small stable and the other, the store itself. The store was made of wide planks that had never been painted, and were sun-bleached gray. A sign across the front of the store had the name: GARLAND’S ROAD RANCH and beneath it: GOODS, GROCERIES, EATS, DRINKS.
There was a buckboard with the tongue lying on the ground parked alongside the store. There were two horses, which Bodine assumed made up the team, in the stable.
Bodine tied his horse off at the hitching rail in front of the store, then stepped up onto the porch. A white dog with black spots was sleeping in front of a sign that read: GOODS FOR ALL MANKIND, and though he opened his eyes as Bodine started toward the door, the dog was so comfortable with his position, and so used to seeing customers come and go, that he didn’t rise.
A little bell was attached
