She walked briskly to the telegraph office. “Hello, Mr. Bronson.”
The wiry man smiled and greeted her.
Wasting no time, she wrote out the message and handed it to him.
Marshal Los Perdidos New Mexico Territory. Stop. Concerned about my brother Josiah Mac McAdams Stop He is at the Rafter C Ranch Stop I fear he is injured or ill Stop Please ride there and confirm his condition Stop Wire reply collect to me Stop Judith McAdams in Cheyenne Wyoming Territory Stop
She paid and told the telegrapher she’d return the next day to see if there was an answer. At least she’d taken action. She was less than optimistic after what her brother had written about the marshal. He didn’t sound like the kind of person who’d care.
In spite of that, she slept a little better that night. The next afternoon she returned to the telegraph office.
Mr. Bronson looked up when she entered and smiled. “Miss McAdams, your answer arrived.” He shook his head. “You’re not going to be happy.”
Dread clutched her heart. What if Josiah really had been injured? She paid and opened the wire immediately.
Cannot spare a man to ride to ranch Stop Saw ranch neighbor in town Stop Says brother is fine Stop Marshal W. Cain Stop
Fury shot through her. The marshal was incredibly lazy or crooked or both. “You are right and I am not happy.”
She took a deep breath and fought to control her temper. No point fussing at this nice man. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Bronson.”
He chuckled and held up his hands. “There for a minute I was afraid you were going to shoot the messenger.”
She forced a smile. “I do feel like shooting someone but not you.”
She went straight to the local marshal to confer with him. She explained her reasons for concern and asked his advice.
Marshal Dougan shook his graying head. “I’m not familiar with New Mexico Territory law. You’d do better consulting someone who works all the states and territories.”
“Such as?”
“Pinkerton Detective Agency comes to mind. You can’t call in the cavalry on your own even if you know the marshal has committed a crime. I reckon it might take the governor or at least an official like a judge or the mayor to declare martial law if it’s required.”
“Do you remember my brother?”
He smiled. “Of course. He rode with the posse a couple of times before he left. Sharp, excellent tracker, and a dependable man. Sure wish I had him as a deputy—or that he’d take over being marshal for me.” He spread his hands. “Miss McAdams, if he says things are wrong, then I believe him. I just can’t do anything about it.”
“Thank you for seeing me, Marshal, and for your advice. When I see my brother, I’ll pass along your kind words.”
On the way home she pondered what she could do. For all she knew, this Lawson might have badly beaten Josiah by now. Whether or not that was true, she was certain her brother needed help. She couldn’t decide how to get him the assistance he needed.
When she got home she showed the wire to Abigail.
“The marshal here suggested I consult the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Now that I’m twenty-one and received Grandpa’s bequest, we have plenty of money for a change.”
Abigail leveled a piercing stare at her. “That money’s burning a hole in your pocket, is it? That’s supposed to last you a long time. You spend it like water and there’ll be a long dry spell in your future.”
She raised a hand. “Now, Abigail, just hear me out. I’m determined to do whatever is necessary to find Josiah. I’m going to Denver to the Pinkerton Detective Agency’s Regional Office. I have no idea how much they charge but I can think of no better use for the funds than finding my brother.”
“You ought not be going off on your own, young lady. If you’re going to find my boy, I’m going with you. I’m not taking a chance on losing both of you.”
“You’d better get packed then because I’m leaving as soon as I can. I guess that will be on tomorrow’s train.”
“First, you go get the railroad schedule and the tickets and make sure of the connections. No point going off without being informed. Then you stop by the book store and see what you can find out about New Mexico Territory near this place where my boy is supposed to be.”
“I’m ahead of you on the book store. I bought a book about New Mexico last week but it’s dry as dust. Maybe there’s a more interesting one. First, I’ll go to the ticket office.”
“I’ll make our dinner while you’re gone.” Abigail headed for the kitchen.
Later, with the arrangements made and dinner over with, the two of them went to bed early. Departure time would come all too soon tomorrow.
The next morning, the wagon driver Judith had hired unloaded their trunks and valises at the train station then helped the two women down.
Abigail gazed in the direction of their home with a wistful expression. “I sure did like that house. Nicest place I ever lived and I have this feeling I’ll never see it again.”
“Quit being like Lot’s wife and stop looking back. If it makes you feel better, remember the place Josiah described in his letters. Sure sounds pretty. He said it’s larger and nicer than the house here.”
“I’ve seen this one, though, and I haven’t seen the other. Your father didn’t have to shoot anyone to get the one here.”
“In a way he did. He shot people in the Army and so did my brother. Hurry, let’s get our valises and get on board.”
They found seats
