Ironhorse

89

Jimmy John was by all means knowing and understanding of white man’s culture and craft but remained stoic and reserved as if he were not part of its fabric. His countenance seemed that of the patient eagle.

“We got reason to believe the ransom wire came from the Division City mining camps,” Virgil said.

“What makes you think that?” Jimmy John said.

“The father of the women being held hostage received a wire, a ransom demand, back in Half Moon Junction. According to Jenny, the signal was weak,” I said. “Weak, but was for sure pounded by the Tall Water Falls operator. Jenny feels the operator is not in Tall Water. Says the telegram came from someplace else altogether.”

“Jenny say which Tall Water Falls operator?”

“Ernest,” I said. “Ernest C.”

Jimmy John looked at me and nodded very slowly.

“The ransom note spelled out the demands, which provided us a radius,” Virgil said.

Jimmy John looked off toward the river, thinking before he responded.

“A radius?” Jimmy John said. “From where an exchange would take place?”

“That’s right,” Virgil said. “Part of the exchange, anyway.”

“The money part?” Jimmy John said.

Virgil nodded and pointed up the track.

“The last pass switch in the south mountain pass,” Virgil said. “Want the ransom strapped on a pack mule.”

“Mule takes it from the pass switch to the mines?”

“That’s right,” Virgil said.

“Smart,” Jimmy John said.

Jimmy John turned back to his horse, opened the saddlebag, and pulled out a wide leather-bound book.

“Tough route up through,” Jimmy John said. “Hard to follow a mule.”

“Know any arrieros,” Virgil said. “Any muleteers operating in these parts?”

“Don’t,” Jimmy John said. “There were many of them years ago. All the mines had working mules when they were operating, but I’ve not seen any of them, not for a while.”

Jimmy John moved toward us and opened the book he got from his bag. He turned the pages until he found what he was looking for. He got down on one knee with the book opened up for us to see.

“Here are the mining camps,” Jimmy John said, pointing to a spot on the page of the book. “Or what used to be the camps. Here is the main telegraph line along the rail, and this here is the south pass switch you are talking about. The line runs through this valley and across the top through here, connecting to the mines here.”

“Did all the mines connect to the telegraph line?” I asked.

“They did when they were operational. They had just one operator that traveled between them with the relay, key, and sounder. I took care of the main line only. Each mine had a station, though. When one station was not operating, that station had a cutout that kept the telegraph loop closed.”

“Did they just close the cutout when they shut down operations?” Virgil asked.

“That’s right.”

“Is there any way to determine if one of these telegraph lines is still operable?”

“A man should be able to do that,” Jimmy John said. “Need to test the current, one by one, of each line that drops into the camps to determine who is connected and who is not.”

Jimmy John stood, turned back to his bay, and returned the book to the saddlebag.

“You being that man,” Virgil said.

Jimmy John looked back to Virgil as he tied the flap on his saddlebag.

“Nobody else,” Jimmy John said.

“We got the better part of the day to look for them,” Virgil said.

“How long a ride do you figure it is to the pass from here?”

Jimmy John turned back to face Virgil. “The road into the mines runs to Division City, not toward the tracks. Riding along the rail would take three and a half, four hours,” he said. “I have a short cut, get us there in two and a half. But it will take time to check each line.”

“You can do this?” Virgil asked.

Jimmy John looked at Berkeley, me, and back to Virgil. “I can.”

“Could get tricky,” Virgil said.

“It could,” he said, nodding his sombrero slightly, “or it will?”

“Most likely will.”

“Most things do.”

“They do,” Virgil said.

“Take a bad lot to hold women for money.”

“They are.”

“How many?”

“Don’t know,” Virgil said. “A few, maybe a few more.” Virgil nodded to the bow and arrows packed on the side of Jimmy John’s bay. “You shot anything besides rabbits with that stick ’n string?”

“Man does what a man has to do,” Jimmy John said.

“You packing anything with a primer?”

Jimmy John pulled back the flap of his denim coat, revealing a shoulder-high holster with a pearl-handled pistol sticking out.

“Not afraid of using that?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Jimmy John said.

“So you will do it?”

“Sure,” Jimmy John said. “Can’t have somebody stealing wire service, it just wouldn’t be right.”