Rampage of the Mountain Man

Chapter Four

Even as Pearlie and Cal were hitching up the wagon for Sally to drive into town, several hundred miles north, in the little town of Salcedo in Wyoming Territory, Trent Williams was awakened from a sound sleep by a loud knock on his hotel room door.

“Mr. Williams? Mr. Williams, sir?”

“Yes?” Williams answered in a voice that was groggy with sleep.

“It is seven o’clock, Mr. Williams. You left word with the desk that you were to be awakened at seven sharp.”

“All right, all right, I’m awake,” Williams said. “Quit pounding on the door.”

“Yes, sir,” the chagrined voice said from outside Williams’s hotel room.

Trent Williams lived in the hotel. As president of the Bank of Salcedo, Williams could afford to live anywhere he wanted, but he preferred a hotel room to a house or an apartment in a boardinghouse. Life was just simpler living in a hotel.

A slight morning breeze filled the muslin curtains and lifted them out over the wide-planked floor. Getting out of bed, Williams padded barefoot over to the window and looked down on the town, which was just beginning to awaken. The morning’s enterprise had already begun. Water was being heated behind the laundry and boxes were being stacked behind the grocery store. A team of four big horses pulled a fully loaded freight wagon down the main street.

From somewhere, Williams could smell bacon frying and his stomach growled, reminding him that he was hungry. He splashed some water in the basin, washed his face and hands, then got dressed and went downstairs. There were a couple of people in the lobby, one napping in one of the chairs, the other reading a newspaper. Neither of them paid any attention to Williams as he left the hotel.

The morning sun was bright, but not yet hot. The sky was clear and the air was clean, and as he walked toward the café he could hear the sounds of commerce: the ring of a blacksmith’s hammer, a carpenter’s saw, and the rattle of working wagons. That was in contrast to last night’s sounds of breaking liquor bottles, out-of-tune pianos, loud laughter, and boisterous conversations. How different the tenor of a town was during the business of morning and the play of evening.

Several of the town’s citizens doffed their hats in respect to Williams as he passed them on the street. Williams nodded in return, but because of his station in the town, he did not doff his own hat.

“Good morning, Mr. Williams,” the owner of the café said as Williams stepped inside. Eric Jordan held a folded newspaper out toward Williams. “Your table is ready for you, sir, and the coffee is hot.”

Williams grunted in reply, then took the paper and walked over to his table. Even as he was sitting down, a waiter appeared and poured the coffee for him.

“Your usual, Mr. Williams?” the waiter asked.

“Of course my usual. Bacon, eggs, fried potatoes, biscuits and gravy,” Williams replied. “Have I ever varied my order?”

“No, sir.”

“Then don’t waste my time asking foolish questions,” Williams said. “Just get my breakfast out here.”

“Right away, sir,” the waiter answered.

Half an hour later, Williams was just finishing his breakfast when a man stepped up to his table. The man needed a shave and a bath. His clothes hung in rags from his body.

“You are in my light,” Williams said. “Move.”

Obligingly, the man stepped to one side. “Sorry, Mr. Williams. Didn’t mean no offense,” the man said.

“What do you want, Percy?”

Williams asked the question without so much as looking at the man, concentrating instead on his breakfast.

Percy ran his hand across the stubble of his beard. “Well, sir, Mr. Williams, you said I was to bring you a telegram if it come.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, sir, it’s come,” Percy said. “It come this mornin’.”

Williams stuck his hand out.

“Yes, sir, it come this mornin’ and I got it first thing and brung it over to you,” Percy said, making no effort to hand over the telegram.

Williams grunted, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. He gave it Percy. “Will this compensate you for your trouble?”

“Yes, sir!” Percy said brightly. “Thank you, Mr. Williams.”

“The telegram?”

“Oh, yes, sir. Here it is,” Percy said, handing the little envelope to Williams. “You want me to hang around so’s you can answer it?”

“No,” Williams replied. “That won’t be necessary.”

“If you need me to run any more errands for you, I’ll be glad to do it, Mr. Williams. Whatever you want, why, you just let me know and I’ll do it for you,” Percy said.

“What I want is for you to go away, Percy,” Williams said, making a motion with his hand. “You smell and you are disturbing my breakfast.”

“Yes, sir,” Percy said, turning toward the door. “But if you need any more errands run, well, you know where I’ll be.”

“Yes, I know where you will be,” Williams replied. “Like as not you’ll be passed out on the floor of Duffy’s saloon.”

The smile left Percy’s face, to be replaced by an expression of hurt. “There’s no need for you to talk to me like that,” Percy said. “Just ’cause I got no money or no place to live, that don’t mean I ain’t a person.”

Williams opened the envelope without answering and, realizing that Williams was no longer paying any attention to him, Percy turned and walked away.

Williams read the telegram.

PER YOUR INQUIRY INDIAN AGENCY DOES REQUIRE BEEF STOP WILL PAY THIRTY-FIVE DOLLARS PER HEAD PAYABLE ON DELIVERY TO SORENTO STOP

Williams folded the telegram and put it away, then, smiling, began drumming his fingers on the table.

“Good news, sir?” the proprietor of the café asked.

“Yes, Mr. Jordan, it is very good news.”

“About the bank?”

“Uh, in a manner of speaking, I suppose you could say that it is about the bank,” Williams said. “Although I do have a life other than as president of the bank,” he added.

“Yes, sir, I’m sure that you do,” Jordan replied. “But you are a very conscientious man, Mr. Williams. All the stockholders insist that the bank has prospered because of you. The bank is very fortunate to have you. Indeed the town of Salcedo is fortunate to have you.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Jordan,” Williams said. “I appreciate that.”

“More coffee?”

“No, I’ll just finish this cup, then be on my way.”

“Very good, sir,” Jordan said. “Just call me if you need anything.”

Williams nodded, then took a swallow of his coffee and looked once more at the telegram. Jordan had asked if this news concerned the bank. It did concern a bank, just not this bank. If everything worked out right—and he saw no reason why it would not—he would soon own his own bank.

When Williams read in the paper that all the Indians had been ordered onto reservations, he realized that feeding them would become the responsibility of the U.S. government. He also realized that that would require a lot of beef, and the moment he realized that, he knew that he had found the way to pay for the bank he wanted to buy. All someone had to do in order to make a lot of money was be in position to make that beef available to the U.S. government.

Williams was not a rancher, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t come up with enough cattle to negotiate a profitable deal with the U.S. government. Last month he had bought a demand mortgage from the bank. That mortgage, for one thousand dollars, was due two weeks from today.

Twice before, Jason Adams, owner of Backtrail Ranch, had arranged an extension on his loan. No doubt he would attempt to do so again, but this time it would not be the bank he was dealing with. By buying the note, which was a perfectly legitimate business arrangement, Williams would be able to force Adams to deal directly with him.

What made the deal particularly attractive as far as Williams was concerned was that he would not have to deal with the board of directors. He could, and he would, make his own arrangements with regard to the note. And those arrangements could be quite lucrative.

Williams had Adams over a barrel. If Adams wanted to save his ranch, he was going to have to pay off the note. And the only way he could pay off the note would be by forfeiting his two thousand head of cattle. Williams chuckled as he did the math. By settling the loan, he would be paying one thousand dollars for two thousand head of cattle. That came out to fifty cents a head. He would then sell those same cows at thirty-five dollars a head. That would be a pure profit of sixty-nine thousand dollars. That was more than enough to buy the Miners Bank. Yes, sir, the arrangements would be quite lucrative indeed.

As Williams walked from the restaurant to the bank, he stopped at the barbershop for his weekly tonsorial appointment. The barber, Earl Cook, was sitting in his chair reading the newspaper when Williams walked in. Hopping up quickly, he made a point of brushing out the chair before holding his arm out in invitation.

“Good morning, Mr. Williams,” Cook said. “Here it is, nine o’clock on Tuesday morning, and you are here, punctual as usual.”

“I consider punctuality to be the hallmark of any businessman,” Williams said as he sat in the chair. “I only wish the bank customers were as punctual in the payment of their debts.”

“Indeed, indeed,” Cook said as he draped the cover over Williams. “You will want a shave, I suppose?”

“Yes,” Williams said, leaning back as Cook lowered the back of the chair.

Cook made lather, then began applying it to Williams’s chin. “Jason Adams was in here earlier this morning.”

“Adams was here? What for?”

“Why, for a shave and a haircut,” Cook replied. Cook chuckled. “Wearing a suit, he is, and with a fresh shave and a haircut, he is quite dapper-looking if I do say so.”

“Hmmph,” Williams said. “You’d think he would have better things to do with his money.”

“I expect he’ll be dropping in to see you later today,” Cook said. He began applying lather to the lower part of Williams’s face. “I expect he just wanted to make a good impression.”

“He could have saved his time and his money,” Williams replied. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to extend his loan any longer. I wish I could do something for him, I truly do. But he has already had two extensions, and I am running a business.”

“I understand,” Cook said as he drew the razor across Williams’s face. “It’s just that Jason and his wife, Millie, are such good people, pillars of the church, always first to volunteer to help someone when help is needed.”

“Now, Mr. Cook, if I ran the bank with my heart instead of my head, where would we be? You are a stockholder, are you not?”

Cook chuckled. “You’ve got me there, Mr. Williams. As I told you, we are very lucky to have a man with your business sense. And you are right, you can’t run a bank with your heart.”

Williams sighed. “Well, I must confess that I am being disingenuous with you. I too have been worried about Jason Adams, so I have done something that I might regret.”

“What is that?”

“I bought his note from the bank,” Williams said.

Cook raised up to look at him. “You bought Jason’s note? Why would you do that?”

“Because in all good conscience, I cannot allow the bank to extend his note any longer. However, as the personal holder of his note, I believe I can work out some way with Mr. Adams that will allow him to keep his ranch. That is, if he is willing to work with me.”

“You are a good man, Mr. Williams,” Cook said as he resumed shaving the banker. “Yes, sir, you are a good man.”

“Of course, Jason may not like what I am offering him,” Williams said. “It’s going to be harsh, but it’s the only way he will be able to save his ranch. And after all, it is better to swallow a bitter pill than to lose the entire ranch.”

“That’s true all right,” Cook said as he continued to cut the hair. “Sometimes a fella just has to bite the bullet.”

Half an hour later, Williams was in his office in the back of the bank when Ron Gilbert, his head teller, knocked on the door.

“Yes, Gilbert, what is it?”

“Mr. Williams, Mr. Jason Adams is here to see you,” Gilbert said.

“Is he here to pay his note, or to ask for an extension?”

“From the expression on his face, he is here to ask for an extension, I believe,” Gilbert said.

“That is a shame,” Williams said. Williams projected an image of concern and compassion, though in truth he could scarcely contain his joy over the fact that everything was going exactly as he had planned.

“Send him in,” Williams said.

Adams came in and stood nervously just inside the door. He was, as Cook had described, wearing a suit and was freshly shaved and trimmed. It was obvious that he was going all out to make as positive an appearance as he possibly could.

“Good morning, Jason,” Williams said, smiling at the rancher. “Please, come in, have a seat. How is Millie?”

“My wife is fine, thank you for your concern,” Adams replied nervously.

“And your two boys? They must be a head taller than they were the last time I saw them.”

Adams nodded. “Yes, sir, they’ve grown quite a bit.”

“Well, I hope everything is fine with you. What brings you to town, Jason? What can I do for you?”

“I’m here to talk about my loan.”

“You are a little early, aren’t you? Your loan isn’t due for a couple of weeks.”

Adams looked surprised. “You can remember when my loan is due?”

Williams cleared his throat. It wouldn’t be good to show that he was taking a particular interest in Jason Adams’s loan.

“Well, when I heard you were in town today, I thought it might have something to do with your loan,” Williams said. He forced a laugh. “I didn’t think you would stop by just to pass the time of day.”

“Oh, no, sir, no, sir,” Adams said. “I would never waste your time like that.”

Williams rubbed his hands together.

“So, you want to pay your loan off, do you?” Williams asked cheerfully. He knew that Jason had no intention of paying off the loan. In fact, he didn’t want him to pay off the loan.

Adams’s lips drew into a tight line. “Uh, no, sir, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said. “I’m going to have to ask for another extension.”

“Oh,” Williams said. “Oh, that’s too bad. Yes, sir, that is too bad.” Williams shook his head. “Is there any chance you will be able to pay it off by the time it is due?”

“No, sir,” Adams said. “I’m sorry, Mr. Williams, I truly am. But I’m not going to be able to pay the loan off.”

“Mr. Adams, for your sake, and for the sake of your family, I was really hoping that this time you would be able to pay the note off,” Williams said as he stroked his chin. “You see, I’m afraid that it isn’t going to be possible to give you another extension.”

“Not—not possible?” Adams asked, obviously crestfallen by the information. “Are you saying you won’t extend the note?”

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Adams,” Williams said. “I wish I could extend your loan again, I really do. But my hands are tied. I have an obligation, not only to the stockholders of this bank, but also the depositors.”

“I see,” Adams said. “What—what is going to happen now?”

“Well, I’m afraid that you are going to lose your ranch.”

Adams shook his head. “No, you can’t take the ranch away from me,” he said. “You can’t! That’s my home. That’s the only place me’n Millie has ever lived. Both our kids was born there. Please, there must be some other way out of this rather than forcin’ me to lose my ranch.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could help you,” Williams said. “But I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. Please try to understand, my hands are tied.”

“What…what am I going to tell Millie?” Adams asked, barely managing to keep control of his emotions.

Williams drummed his fingers on the table as if in deep thought. Then he ran his hands through his hair. “There is—one—way,” Williams said. “I’m not sure you will want to go along with it.”

“What do you mean I won’t want to go along with it? If there is a way, any way…” Adams’s desperate plea trailed off.

“After all, I suppose that, for you, the most important thing would be to save your ranch, am I right? I mean, it is your home.”

“Yes. I’d do anything to save it.”

“Then I do have an idea. It isn’t something that I want to do, but under the circumstances, I’ll do it for you,” Williams said. “I’ll buy the note from the bank. Then you would owe me, and not the bank.”

“And you would give me an extension?”

Williams chuckled and held out his hands. “No, no, don’t misunderstand. There is no way I could afford to do something like that,” Williams said. “But what I will do is mark the note paid in full in exchange for your cattle.”

“My cattle? How many of my cattle?”

“All of them.”

“What? No, I couldn’t do that. Why, I have two thousand head,” Adams said. “I couldn’t possibly let you have two thousand head of cattle for one thousand dollars.”

“Consider this, Mr. Adams,” Williams said. “The note you signed with the bank was for your ranch and all livestock and improvements. So you are faced with this choice. Let the bank foreclose and lose everything, including your cattle, or settle with me for your cattle, and keep your ranch.”

“I couldn’t possibly do that,” Adams said. Suddenly, he smiled. “But I could sell enough of my cattle to pay the note.”

“No, you can’t do that,” Williams said.

“What do you mean I can’t do that? Of course I can. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier.”

“If you sell those cattle, Mr. Adams, you will go to jail.”

“What are you talking about? Why would I go to jail?”

“Remember, your loan note was for the ranch, livestock, and all accoutrements,” Williams said. “That means you have your cattle mortgaged, and there is a law against selling mortgaged property.”

“I—I didn’t know that,” Adams said in a defeated tone.

“Now you do know. So the choice is this, Mr. Adams. Either turn over all your cattle to me, in exchange for a release from debt, or I will be forced to foreclose on your ranch and your cattle.” Gone was the silken, cajoling demeanor in Williams’s voice. He was now speaking in a cold, clipped, and demanding voice.

“I—I suppose when you put it that way, I really have no choice,” Adams said.

Sensing victory, Williams eased up a bit. “Mr. Adams, the truth is, I’ve gone way out on a limb for you on this. I probably shouldn’t have done so, but I’ve already bought the note. It was the only way I could think of to save your ranch.”

“I see,” Adams said.

Williams opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out a paper.

“We can take care of this right now if you want to,” he said. “Sign this paper turning your cattle over to me, and I’ll release the lien on your ranch.”

Williams slid the paper across to Adams, then handed him a pen. Adams held the pen poised over the line for his signature for a moment, but he didn’t sign.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve got two more weeks,” he said.

Williams chuckled. “Mr. Adams, you’ve had two years to settle this debt and you’ve been unable to do so. What makes you think you can do it in two more weeks?”

“I can’t settle in two more weeks,” he said. “But before I do something like this, I need to discuss it with Millie.”

“I see,” Williams said. “And your wife makes all your decisions for you, does she?”

“No, sir. But we do make them together,” Adams replied.

Williams sighed. “All right, Mr. Adams, discuss this with your wife if you must. But make certain she understands all the ramifications of it. Because if you don’t accept this offer before the two weeks are up, the deal will be taken off the table. I’m afraid then that I will be forced to exercise every clause of the loan agreement. And that means, Mr. Adams, that you will not only forfeit your cattle, you will lose your ranch as well.”

“Yes, sir, I understand,” Adams said. “And I appreciate what you are doing for me, Mr. Williams, really I do. It’s just that I’m going to have to bring my wife around.”

“Very well. Give her my best,” Williams said.

“I will. And thank you again, sir.”

After Adams left, Williams walked over to his window to watch as the rancher climbed up into his buckboard, then drove away. Two thousand head at fifty cents a head, for which he would get thirty-five dollars a head. Yes, sir, this was going to work out just fine.