Resolution

62.

What you suppose Wolfson’s gonna do with all that sodbuster land he’s got?” Rose said while we were eating breakfast in the Excelsior.

“Not much,” I said, “because we ain’t gonna let him keep it.”

“Sure,” Rose said. “But what’s he think he’s gonna do with it.”

“Could run cattle,” I said.

“Not the best range I ever seen,” Rose said.

“Could reparcel it,” I said. “Sell it off to a new crop of homesteaders.”

“That’s what he’ll do,” Virgil said. “Sell the land in house lots. The bank will hold the mortgages, so he’ll still control it. They’ll be new customers for the store and the saloons.”

“So why not keep the sodbusters he’s got now,” Rose said.

“He’s wrung ’em dry,” Cato said.

All three of us looked at him. But he didn’t add anything.

After a time Virgil said, “Cato’s right. They got nothing. They can’t repay a mortgage. They haven’t got any money to spend at the emporium. They probably can’t even rebuild enough to make a profit. But they can keep him from owning the land, and they can keep him from reselling to people who have some money.”

“For him to squeeze out of the new folks,” I said.

“So unless he can run them off, or starve them out, or kill them,” Rose said, “these shitkickers are just in Wolfson’s way.”

“Yep.”

“And they got nothing to bargain with,” Rose said.

“Just us,” I said.

Virgil appeared to be paying no attention to the conversation. He stood up suddenly.

“Think I’ll go talk to Wolfson,” he said, and walked out the front door of the saloon.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Rose said.

“Let’s go see,” I said.

We got up and went after Virgil.

Wolfson was at his table in the Blackfoot, and with him were Lujack and Swann.

“Virgil,” Wolfson said, “I thought you’d be on your way to Texas by now.”

Swann shifted a little in his chair. Virgil walked across the saloon and stopped in front of Wolfson.

“Used to work for you,” Virgil said.

Wolfson nodded his head once.

“We ain’t gonna let you run them settlers off their land,” Virgil said.

No one at the table said anything for a long time. Virgil stood patiently. He was doing what he always did, just going about his business, plowing straight ahead. Nothing bothered him. He never seemed in a hurry, except things always seemed to happen faster for him than other people.

Finally, Wolfson said, “You’re not?”

“Nope,” Virgil said.

“You and them three boys?” Lujack said, nodding at Cato and Rose and me.

“That’s right,” Virgil said. “Wanted to let you know. Give you a chance to negotiate, if you was of a mind to.”

“Negotiate?” Lujack said.

Lujack was slowly discovering what so many people had discovered before him, that Virgil Cole was not like other folks.

“We ain’t negotiating shit,” Wolfson said. “You boys got a brain in your heads, you’ll skedaddle the fuck out of Resolution while we’re still willin’ to let you.”

Virgil nodded and looked at Swann.

“You got anything to say?” he said to him.

Swann looked lazily at Wolfson and Lujack seated with him, and then at me and Cato and Rose, behind Virgil.

“Not right now,” he said.

They looked at each other. Swann didn’t like the odds, and he was right. But he wasn’t afraid of Virgil, which could be a mistake. Though as Virgil always insisted, you didn’t know for certain until it happened.

Virgil nodded slowly.

Then, without speaking again, he turned and walked out of the saloon. Cato and Rose and I followed him.