“Let me take that.” Josie attempted to grab the bandana, but Mary quickly untied it, opened the door, and looked around the small rectangular alcove. Looking into the sink she was surprised to see many soiled hand towels thrown in the basin. Draped over the faucet was a red bandana. Mary picked it up. Turning toward the end of the room, she saw a neatly folded horse blanket and an old pillow on the floor. “Josie, what’s all this?”
“Don’t know, ma’am.”
“I was in here inspecting early spring and there wasn’t any of this.” Josie’s eyes began to dart nervously, her face a bit flushed. She picked up the pillow and horse blanket and clutched them to her chest.
“Bet some wrangler got sick in the night and came in here for privacy. They done it before. I’ll see to these right now.”
“No. Not now. Put the bedding down. This is your area to clean, right?” Mary noticed a look of panic on Josie’s face.
“Yes ma’am.” Josie moved toward the shelves and attempted to restack a few towels.
“You never saw this mess before?”
“Never!” Reaching for Mary’s hand she added, “If you give me the bandanas, I’ll find out who owns them.”
“One more chance, Josie, to tell me the truth. You really know nothing about the towels and what they are being used for? You never saw a heap of dirty hand towels in the sink before?”
“No ma’am, I didn’t, but I’ll get right to the dirty towels. Do them up nice and clean. Hang them in the sun this afternoon.”
Mary sensed that Josie was bargaining with her, but Mary wasn’t finished. She looked at the two bandanas again and then shoved them into her pocket. “Josie, when you are through with your work, I want you to come up to the house. We need to talk.”
Josie’s shoulders slumped; she sighed deeply and went back to her chores.
“James!” Mary yelled as she approached the track. James was leaning on the fence talking with Chief Jack as she approached. Lifting his brim to see who was running, he patted the chief on the back and turned to walk toward her.
“I need to talk with you in private. I need to have your assurance that you’ll support me.”
“Let me guess. This is about Josie, right?” Mary nodded and the two walked from the track and found a bench outside one of the horse stables.
“I just came from the men’s bunkhouse. I found these two bandanas in the linen alcove. The green one tied to the doorknob; the red one, draped over the sink faucet. Josie didn’t like me being there.”
“So what? She’s afraid of you, Mary.”
“I asked Josie if she knew about them. She said no but she seemed alarmed. She wanted me to give them to her.”
“And? I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Mary.”
“There was a bunch of soiled hand towels in the sink. And there was a quilted horse blanket folded in the corner with a pillow on it.”
“I’m sure there is a harmless explanation.”
“I’m thinking that the linen closet is being used. By whom or for what, I don’t know.”
“I’m not seeing the urgency like you. Two bandanas are hardly worth worrying about.”
“James, the pillow, the horse blanket, the dirty towels, the bandanas are all related to what’s going on.”
“Maybe a squatter? You think that?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m busy, Mary.”
“You won’t support me? I need to find out what is going on.”
James sighed. “All right, but I only have a few minutes.”
Mary and James walked to the horse barn, where three of the stable hands were mucking out stalls. Tommy O’Rourke, a handsome kid from Ebenezer, Missouri—hard worker, small boned and honest—had been handpicked to be a jockey one day. “Tommy, will you step over to the barn entrance with me and Mrs. Glidewell?” Tommy nodded and laid his shovel on the wheelbarrow. Once Tommy secured the stall gate, he approached the couple.
“I found these in the bunkhouse linen closet,” Mary presented the bandanas, holding them in one hand. “Do you know who these might belong to?” Tommy looked into the distance, clearly uncomfortable with the question.
“Tommy, do you know why these may have been left there? One was tied to the doorknob,” James explained.
“Well sir, it shames me to say.”
“It’s important that we hear the truth,” said Mary.
Tommy removed his hat and nervously fingered the brim. “Yes, ma’am and Mr. Glidewell, those are the bandanas that the boys use. So they know when things are clear.”
“Forgive me, but that makes no sense,” said Mary. She looked at James, who was clearly sympathetic to Tommy.
“Please don’t tell nobody I said, but there is foolin’ in the linen closet just about every night.”
“Foolin’ in the linen closet?”
“Yes ma’am,” Tommy admitted placing his hat back on his head.
“Foolin’ with girls?” asked James.
With his hands in his pockets, his head down, and his left boot scraping marks into the dirt, Tommy replied, “No sir, not girls. I do believe just one girl. See, I never done it.”
“I see. So the red bandana means… ?” asked Mary.
“Means don’t go in the alcove. The green one means she ain’t busy. That’s what they tell me.”
“I see. Thank you, Tommy. You go back to your mucking,” said James.
“Thank you, sir.”
Mary and James walked over to one of the circular corrals where the trainer was working a young quarter horse with long ropes. The water wagon and draft horses were parked at the edge of the corral. “Good morning, Jeb,” said James. “Looks like you are about ready to water down the track.”
“Yep, soon as I am done with this little fella. Just a minute.” Jeb gripped the lunge line with his crippled, arthritic hands, yelled “whoa,” and the foal came to a stop. The old trainer led the horse back to the fence, tied him to a rail and walked back to the Glidewells. Jeb chuckled, exposing his tobacco stained teeth, when Mary
