William Johnstone - Snake River Slaughter

“Yeah, well, he was only one man in the saloon too,” Scraggs said.

Sherman made a tsking sound as he shook his head, slowly. “You know, Scraggs, if I were you, I don’t think I would be all that anxious to tell how one man faced down four of you.”

“I told you how it happened. There weren’t none of us in position to get to our guns. He had the drop on us.”

“Oh? He had his gun in his hand when he braced the four of you?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Scraggs said. “But it was near ’bout the same thing, I mean what with him standin’ there where he could get to his gun, and us sittin’ where we couldn’t. And then, when I stuck my head back in, well, he did have the gun in his hand. Almost like he know’d I was goin’ to stick my head back in like I done.”

“And here I thought I had rounded up the finest men in the territory to be members of the posse,” Sherman said. “Maybe I need to raise the standards for recruiting.”

“Here, now, Colonel, you got no call to say somethin’ like that,” Scraggs complained. “I told you how it happened. When it comes down to it, you know you can depend on me and ever’ one else in the posse.”

“I hope so, Scraggs,” Sherman said. “We’re sort of in a poker game here. And it’s a high stakes poker game.”

“He went into the café,” Scraggs said.

“It’s about noon, isn’t it?” Sherman asked.

Scraggs looked over toward the front desk of the hotel and saw a clock hanging on the wall behind the desk.

“It lacks five minutes of twelve,” Scraggs said.

“I think I’ll drop in over at the Railroad Café and have some lunch,” Sherman said.

“Want me to come with you?” Scraggs asked.

“No,” Sherman said resolutely as he headed for the door.

When Matt stepped into the restaurant he saw that Kitty had already taken a table near the back.

“I’ll be right with you, sir,” a waiter said as he started toward a table carrying an order.

“I’ll be joining Mrs. Wellington,” Matt said, pointing toward Kitty.

“Very good, sir.”

Matt sat at the table across from Kitty, and she greeted him with a smile.

“Did you have a pleasant morning?” she asked.

“Made some new friends,” Matt said. He chuckled. “And probably a few enemies.”

“Oh? What happened?”

Matt shook his head. “Nothing to speak of. I trust you got all your womanly things done?”

“I did. Do you like the color red?”

“What?” Matt asked, surprised by the question that came out of the blue.

“I’m having Anna make a dress for my trip to Chicago,” Kitty said. “A red dress. Do you like red?”

“Red? Yes, I like red.”

“Are you sure? Because it isn’t too late, you know. She could also do it in either white or blue.”

Matt chuckled. “Katherine, you are a beautiful woman,” he said. “And you would be beautiful no matter what color dress you wear.”

“You’re just being nice.”

“No, I’m being truthful.”

“Then, I’ll stick with red,” Kitty said. “Have you ever been to Chicago? I’ve never been there but…”

Kitty waxed on about Chicago but it faded into the background when Matt saw someone come into the café. He was a tall, rather impressive looking man with a closely cropped, graying moustache and brindled hair. He was wearing the same uniform as the men had been wearing in the Sand Spur, but this man was alone, and he carried himself with a degree of self-confidence, almost arrogance, that made Matt think it might be the head of the Auxiliary Peace Officers.

“…sailing on Lake Michigan. Don’t you think so?” Kitty said.

“I’m sorry, what?” Matt asked.

“Matthew Jensen, you didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” Kitty asked, petulantly.

“You’re looking forward to going to Chicago,” Matt said, taking a stab.

“Yes. I think it will be a wonderful trip.”

“I’m looking forward to it as well,” Matt said. He looked again toward the recent arrival, who was now being seated at his table.

“Matt, what has your attention?”

“That man over there,” Matt said, pointing toward Sherman. “He may be trouble for us.”

Kitty looked over as well.

“How can he be trouble? He’s wearing a badge. He’s a lawman.”

Matt shook his head. “No,” he said. “He’s not any kind of lawman you’ve ever known before. He’s with the Idaho Auxiliary Peace Officers’ Posse. In fact, unless I miss my guess, he is Colonel Clay Sherman, the head of the posse.”

“The Auxiliary Peace Officers’ Posse? Yes, I have heard of them. Isn’t that the group that they say Poke Terrell once belonged to?”

“Yes,” Matt said.

“Well, they can’t be all bad. I mean, from what I’ve heard, they kicked him out of the organization. And we both know what a despicable person Terrell was.”

“Yes, I suppose that is true,” Matt said.

“I wonder what he is doing here, in Medbury?” Kitty asked.

“I’m wondering the same thing.”

Matt considered going over to Sherman’s table and asking that very question, but he feared that doing so might bring about some sort of confrontation. He didn’t want to start anything here in the restaurant, and he for sure didn’t want to do it in front of Kitty. So he did nothing.

When he and Kitty finished their lunch several minutes later he glanced over toward Sherman, who, he saw, was looking directly at him. Sherman nodded, and Matt returned the nod.

The Railroad Café was appropriately named because it stood directly across from the depot, so it was a short walk across the street for them to take care of ordering the cars.

“Hello, Mr. Montgomery,” Kitty said, greeting the dispatcher. “I’m going to need to order some cars for a shipment to Chicago.”

“All the way to Chicago, huh? That’s a long trip.”

“I know. And a profitable one too, I hope.”

“How many cars will you need?” Montgomery asked.

“I’m going to need twenty-five,” Kitty said.

“Twenty-five cars?” the dispatcher responded in surprise. He gave a low whistle. “That’s a lot of cars.”

“I suppose it is.”

“In fact, that’s an entire train.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s not going to be a problem,” Montgomery said. “But it’s going to be pretty expensive. It’s going to cost you a hundred dollars per car and five hundred dollars for the engine.”

“Oh, I have to pay for the engine too?” Kitty asked. “I didn’t know I had to pay for the engine. Isn’t that a regular part of the train?”

“Yes ma’am, it is if you just put three or four cars on where there’s other payin’ freight as well. But when you got that many cars, you’ll have to have a dedicated engine,” the dispatcher said. “And when that happens, you have an entire train to yourself, which means you’ll have to pay extra for the engine.”

“Oh,” Kitty said.

“Will that be a problem? I mean, if it is, maybe we can work something else out by, say, splitting up your shipment and putting no more than three cars on per train.”

Kitty paused for a moment, then sighed before she answered. “No,” she said. “That won’t do. I’m afraid I am going to have to have the entire shipment go as one. So schedule the train for me. How soon can we have the engine and cars here?”

“How soon do you want them?”

“I’d like them as soon as possible,” Kitty said.

The dispatcher moved some more papers around, checking inventory figures, then he nodded.

“We can have the cars and the engine here within three days,” the dispatcher said. “Will that be soon enough for you?”

“Yes, that will be fine,” Kitty said.