Ironhorse

76

The governor worked his way back and forth in the office some more. He was looking down at the floor, thinking as he paced.

“What if you don’t find them?” the governor said.

“Don’t find ’em,” Virgil said, “we come back before nightfall and load the mule.”

Virgil looked at me.

“Worth a try,” I said.

The governor paced a few more times before he stopped and looked to Virgil.

“Okay,” he said.

“We don’t find them,” Virgil said, “we pack the mule, send it on its way.”

“Without question you do,” the governor said. “I do not want to be reeling from tragedy for monetary concerns. I care not about the money, Marshal, make no mistake about that, not one iota. If my daughters’ lives were not in danger it would of course be a different situation, but frankly it is not a different situation.”

“Understood,” Virgil said. “Jenny, these LeFlore brothers, they got no beef, no odds with each other? They get along with each other all right?”

Jenny nodded.

“I’ve known them my whole life; they’re close. Jimmy John is a bit of a renegade, but they both are hard workers and do their job.”

“Good,” Virgil said. “I want to craft a note. Contact Buck LeFlore to the south. You said he was in the Paris office, right?”

“He works out of the Paris office. He’s there sometimes. I can try to reach him.”

“Good,” Virgil said. “Try to wire Buck in the Paris office. Have him contact his brother north in Division City. We will let the communication be between them, all in Choctaw. That way there is no connection to this office and the LeFlore north, in Division City.”

“Splendid idea,” Hobbs said.

“Okay,” Jenny said.

“Good,” Virgil said.

The governor nodded, looking at Virgil with some resolve.

“Sam?” Virgil said.

He pointed to the mines on the map.

“Can the Ironhorse get us up to here by morning?”

“Before then, if we get you going.”

“Good,” Virgil said. “Gives us time to locate them. If we don’t get to LeFlore for some reason, we’ll look on our own. We don’t find them by mid-afternoon, we come back to the switch location and load the mule. Everett?”

“Sounds right,” I said. “That Ironhorse in good working order, Sam?”

“It is,” Sam said.

“What do we need to do to get going?” Virgil said.

Sam pointed up the track.

“Soon as Uncle Ted gets back from removing the last foul car,” Sam said, “just need to load the tender and get the stock car hooked up.”

“That it?” Virgil said.

“Is,” Sam said. “But we don’t have a regular fireman. Charlie and me help out Uncle Ted here in the yard. You’ll just need somebody to shovel coal on the trip is all. I suppose, push comes to shove, I can do the shovelin’ for you.”

As Uncle Ted and the Ironhorse got close to the Half Moon Junction depot, the engine blasted one long whistle. Smoke was billowing from its stack as it thumped back down the track pulling the coach Virgil and I had abandoned on the rise north of town.

The coach was the last foul car to be removed from the track. The next abandoned car north, with Whip, the undertaker, the grieving widow, the Apache woman, and the others, had been removed by the Standley Station section gang. The engine and first coach was in the process of being towed off by the Crystal Creek section gang, leaving the track open for travel.

The windows of the telegraph office rattled again as Uncle Ted, with his hairy arm hanging out the window of the Ironhorse, throttled the engine off the main track and rumbled to a stop in the switchyard behind the water tower.

“God help us,” the governor said.