Ironhorse

73

Virgil turned from the map and looked at me. He nodded slowly and turned his attention back to the map. He looked closely at the X’s marking the mines.

“Mr. Hobbs?” Virgil said.

“Marshal,” Hobbs said.

“You said you and Lassiter had contacts, relationships, up here in the territories, right?”

Virgil turned from the map and faced Hobbs.

“Yes,” Hobbs said. “That is correct.”

“What kind of counsel?”

“We were agents,” Hobbs said.

“What kind of agents?”

“Cattle operations, mostly, leasing.”

“Leasing?”

“Yes, when the eastern beef prices and demand soared, the cattle drives north out of Texas required sustenance leasing for Chisholm, Goodnight-Loving, the Great Western Trail, and the like.”

“Those trails run through the western part of the territories,” I said. “Cheyenne, Arapaho reservations.”

“That’s right,” Hobbs said, “and the Cherokee outlet to the north.”

“What about mining?” Virgil said. “Were you agents to mining operations, too?”

“I didn’t, no.”

“Lassiter?”

“Lassiter I believe did handle leasing for mining, yes.”

“You believe?”

Hobbs looked at the governor.

“Yes,” Hobbs said.

“Do you know where?” Virgil said.

“That I don’t know,” Hobbs said. “Could be the part you’re looking at there on the map for all I know. I believe the mining is in the eastern part of the territories.”

Hobbs looked to Berkeley.

“I don’t know all that happens border to border, but I’m pretty sure that is right,” Berkeley said.

“You know of any particular outfit Lassiter was counsel, agent with?” Virgil said.

“No,” Hobbs said. “I suppose there could be some way to find out. There must be records of such dealings, something that could show us the history.”

Virgil shook his head and looked back to the map.

“No time for that,” I said.

“I take it, Marshal,” the governor said, “you think it probable they, whomever we are dealing with, are operating from one of these mining locations?”

“Everett?” Virgil said.

“Given the circumstances,” I said, “I’d say more than probable.”