William Johnstone - Snake River Slaughter

“All right. The train will probably get in sometime in the middle of the afternoon, on Wednesday. I can have it set on a side track, all ready for you on Thursday.”

“How soon can we leave after it is loaded?”

“Very soon afterward, I would think, but I’ll have to work out the track schedule,” Montgomery said. He chuckled. “We wouldn’t want your train runnin’ into another one now, would we?”

Kitty smiled. “No, that wouldn’t be good.”

“I’ll have the track schedule all worked out for you by Thursday. I expect you’ll be able to leave pretty soon after you are loaded. The engineer will have his orders by then, and he’ll know when to put aside to let the varnish have the high iron.”

“The varnish?” Kitty asked.

“The passenger trains,” the dispatcher replied. “They own the high iron. That means, they have the right of way on the through tracks. Freight trains are required to pull over and wait until they pass.”

“I see.”

“Well, you can understand, I’m sure,” Montgomery said. “Say if you were on a passenger train going to Chicago, you wouldn’t want to have to shift off the track to let every freight train pass now, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t think so. Oh, and I am going to Chicago,” she added excitedly.

“When?”

“Why, Thursday, of course. I’m going on this train.”

“Mrs. Wellington, there are no provisions for passengers on this train,” Montgomery said.

“Well, can’t you make provisions?”

“What you are asking for is a private car attached to the train.”

“Can you order one of those?”

“Yes, but it’s going to cost you as much as the engine.”

“Another five hundred dollars?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“So, now we are talking about thirty-five hundred dollars.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid so,” Montgomery said.

“I’m in the wrong business,” Kitty said. “I should own a railroad instead of horses.”

Montgomery laughed. “Railroads are the transportation of the future,” he said.

“All right, order the private car,” Kitty said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Can we get it as quickly as we can the stock cars?”

“Yes, ma’am, no problem.”

“Thank you very much, Mr. Montgomery. You’ve been very helpful,” Kitty said.

“I am glad to be of service, Mrs. Wellington. I’ll draw up the contract and routing orders,” the dispatcher said.

While the dispatcher pulled out the necessary forms and began filling them out, Kitty walked over to look out over the depot platform. Matt, who had taken no part in the business negotiations, was already standing by the window. A passenger train was due shortly, and the platform was filled with people. Some were departing passengers, and a few were waiting to meet arriving passengers. But most of the people milling about on the platform were just citizens of the town to whom the arrival and departure of the trains was an exciting event. Matt had noticed also that, scattered through the crowd, were several men wearing the dark blue denim trousers, light gray shirt, and star of the Auxiliary Peace Officers’ Posse.

He sensed Kitty coming up to stand beside him.

“Did you get all business taken care of?” Matt asked.

“Yes, I guess so,” Kitty replied. There was a note of concern to the tone of her voice.

“What is it, Kitty?” Matt asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Matt, this deal has got to go through,” she said. “I’ve already borrowed as much money as I can borrow, and I am putting every penny I have left into it. If something goes wrong, I’ll be ruined.”

Matt chuckled. “Why, Katherine, considering your background, there are already people who would call you a ruined woman,” he said. “So how bad could that be?”

For just a second Kitty was startled by Matt’s response, then she saw the humor of it, and she laughed out loud.

“You’re right,” she said. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

“All you have to do is get your horses to Chicago, and you’ll have enough money to pay off all your debts, with enough left over to carry forward. Am I right?”

“Yes,” she said. “All I have to do is get my horses to Chicago.”

“Then you don’t have a problem,” Matt said. “I promise you, Kitty, we will get your horses to Chicago.”

Kitty took Matt’s arm in her hands, then leaned into him. “Thank you, Matt. You don’t know how important that reassurance is to me.”

“I have an idea of something we might do when we get to Chicago,” Matt said.

“What is that?”

“When we get to Chicago, how would you like it if we were to go sailing on Lake Michigan?”

“What?” Kitty laughed, then she hit Matt on the arm. “You were listening, weren’t you?”

Chapter Twenty-four

Back at Coventry on the Snake, even as Kitty and Matt were making arrangements for the stock cars, Tyrone Canfield had Prew and the other riders rounding up the saddle horses that were to be shipped out. Kitty had asked that they gather them into one holding field so it would be easy to move them when the time came.

“We’ll put them in the north field. Castle Creek runs through that, so they will have plenty of water,” Tyrone said.

“How long we goin’ to keep ’em there?” Prew asked.

“As long as it takes. Which is until we move them down to the rail head,” Tyrone answered.

“The reason I ask is, there’s good grass in that field, but when you consider there’s goin’ to be five hunnert horses there.”

“I think there will be enough grass to last them three or four days, anyway,” Tyrone said. “And if we have to, we’ll bring in some hay just to stretch it out.”

“Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that,” Prew said. He chuckled. “I reckon that’s why you’re the foreman.”

“You got that right, sonny, and don’t you forget it,” Tyrone said. “All right boys, let’s go round up some horses.”

Tyrone, Prew, Jake, Crack, and four other spent the morning rounding up the horses. The cavalry had purchased Arabian horses, selecting that particular breed because they were known for their courage, intelligence, disposition, and endurance. It fit the army requirements perfectly, that they could run at a gallop, or trot for miles without stopping. Also, because the army had promised a bonus if all the horses would be the same color, Kitty had given specific instructions to round up only chestnuts.

It took from early morning until midafternoon before all the selected horses were cut from the herd, then moved into the smaller field where they would be held until they were shipped.

“You fellas don’t know it yet, but you’re all joinin’ the army,” Prew said to the horses, laughing as they were moved into the field. “Yes, sir, no more wanderin’ around free as the breeze. From now on you’ll have to get up early in the mornin’, work all day and listen to bugles and the such.”

“Hey, the cavalry ain’t a bad life for horses,” Jake said. “Hell, I was in the cavalry. The horses has it better than the privates. I mucked out their stalls, fed them, rubbed them down. Didn’t no horse ever do that for me.”

The others laughed as the last of the horses were put into the field.

“Did you get a count, Crack?” Tyrone asked.

“Yeah,” Crack answered. “I counted five hundred and twenty-three.”

“That’s good,” Tyrone said. “All right, boys, let’s get this fence up and stretched across the opening, here.”

For the next hour, the men worked at constructing a fence that stretched some fifty yards across the south end of the field, thus closing off the field to keep the horses put.