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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Silver Moon" data-source="post: 3003525" data-attributes="member: 8530">Chapter Sixty-four, “Shooting at the Crazy-8”, Thursday, June1st, 1882, 7:30 A.M.Wednesday night was uneventful for Jake Cook. Jake had let Job run the game tonight instead to make up for all the time Jake has missed. Jake used the night to get to know Job's cousin Al. He spent some time telling her about the saloon routine, customers and some of the people in town to watch. ”It is not very often that we have trouble, but if we do everyone is usually good about lending a hand... or gun. We try not to shoot customers, “Jake adds with a wink, “especially the ones that are free with their money.”  Al Brower did not come by to get drunk with Jake, so he closed up the saloon and heads home. Jake laid awake in bed for a while in an unfamiliar state, alone and sober, before finally succumbing to sleep.  In the morning he rises early and keeps himself distracted by again helping out at the saloon.Chester is eating breakfast at the Lucky Lady on Thursday morning when Marshall Berg enters and joins him at the table. He says, “Take your time, we'll head out to the Crazy-8 Ranch whenever you're ready.”  Chester replies, ”I was just finishing up, Marshall.” Maria comes out to take away the dishes. “Thanks Maria. It was good as always.” She says, “Gracias, Senor Martin. Buenos dias, Senor Marshall.” Chester grabs his jacket from upstairs and meets Berg by the stables. Chester saddles Lookout and mounts his horse. “Marshall, who all lives out at the Crazy-8?  I've never been out there.” Berg says, “I wasn't sure myself so I went to see Judge Isby, on Monday he had the officials do that population survey on the outlying ranches. Buckley has four hands listed, three of whom were with Buckley last Saturday with that mob. One of them was Carsten Block, who I had managed to put to sleep with the magic of my first shotgun blast. Another one, Ken Wagner took a minor wound from Cassidy I believe. The third was Gordy Bryson, you disarmed him with your first shot. The last of Buckley's hands is Clifford Allman. Near as I can tell he was back at the ranch last Saturday.” Chester scratches his chin. “Interesting that three of Buckley's ranch hands were in that mob with him. Now I wonder if it had something to do with them getting wounded in the shootout. Maybe they blamed him.” Chester shrugs. “Just an idea. Who do you want to talk to first? I want to talk to the fellow who wasn't wit' the rest, Allman.”  Berg says, “None are in town right now, we'll have to ride out to their ranch to speak to any of them.” Chester asks Berg, “Where do you keep your horse? I'll ride over there wit' you.”  Berg says, “I don't one myself, I rent from drovers.”  The two lawmen reach the stables. Berg mounts his horse and they ride to the Crazy-8 ranch.    It takes around a half-hour to cover the twelve miles northwest. They see a dilapidated farmhouse in the distance with a series of corrals behind it. Smoke is coming from the farmhouse and they see a pair of horsemen over by the far corral. Chester points at the horsemen. “Let's go see who those two are.” They ride over to the horsemen. Chester calls out, “Hey there. Are you ranch hands for the Crazy-8?”   As they approach the two horsemen both unstrap rifles from their backs. Chester immediately recognizes one as the man who he wounded in the arm so must be the one named Bryson.  He also recognizes the other as the man who had shot him in the thigh. Berg says to Chester, “Uh oh, that other one is Denny Garvin. He works over at the Thayer Ranch.” Berg motions for Chet to stop the horse while they are still twenty-five feet away from the men. Bryson points his gun towards them but not directly at either one and says, “Come to finish what you started?” Chester holds out his empty hands. “Whoa, whoa there. We got business with Bryson and the other ranch hands here. We're just here to talk.” “Start talking,” Bryson says. Berg says, “I came out here to give you boys some bad news. Your boss Buckley was found dead in town yesterday afternoon. Any idea who might have done it?” “Yeah, the two of you” Garvin states. While they are talking another familiar face rides out from the house. Berg gestures and tells Chet “That's Ken Wagner.” Chester shouts, “Mr. Wagner. We've got some bad news. Can you come here for a second?” Wagner rides forward keeping his weapon holstered. The other two continue to hold rifles in hand. Wagner stops ten feet from the lawmen. Berg says, “As I was telling these other two, your boss Buckley was found dead in town yesterday afternoon. The Deputy and I are investigating the murder and any information the two of you can tell me would be helpful.”   Wagner replies, “We were all here yesterday, we don't know anything about it.” Chester says, “Well, in any case we got some questions for you. Do you know if your boss had any enemies? Anyone who'd want to kill him?”  Garvin says, “Yeah, the both of you. And Cassidy put a bullet in him last weekend too.”   Chester blows out a breath. “Yeah, we got that. You don't seem too torn up about your boss's passing. Listen, we don't really care that you were in that mob. Buckley was killed in town and we want to find the guy who did it.” Wagner says, “Then you're looking in the wrong place, we were all here.” Garvin swings up his rifle at Berg and says, “You boys have a hell of a lot of nerve heading out here after shooting us up. Give me one reason why we shouldn't send you to Hades right now.” Berg says, “How about because Judge Isby knows that we're out here right now and if we don't ride back soon he'll see you hang before the week is out.” Bryson swings his rifle up towards them and says, “Then we'll just have to make sure he winds up dead too.”   Chester glances at Berg, then at Bryson, “You'll still hang. What say we forget about what you just said and we'll ride on back to town?”   Bryson raises his gun and aims at Chet. A rifle files, but not from the gun twenty-five feet away. The sound of the shot was from a slight incline from perhaps up to a quarter mile to the west. Bryson slumps over in his saddle, the bullet having gone through his head from the forehead to the ear.    Chester draws both pistols and points them at Wagner and Garvin. “You didn't think we'd come out here without help, did you? Throw your guns on the ground and get your hands up.” Wagner raises his hands. Garvin shifts in the saddle looking in the direction of the hill. A rifle fires from there again, striking Garvin in the chest. Rather than penetrating though it deflects off. Garvin raises his rifle to take aim in the direction of the hill.   Chester yells, “Drop it Garvin. You got lucky once. Don't tempt the Fates.” Garvin drops the gun simultaneous to another rifle shot, this one hitting higher than the previous one and going though the center of the man’s neck. He reaches his hands up towards where the bullet struck and then the arms and hands collapse as he dies. Meanwhile, Berg moves his horse over between Wagner and the hill in an attempt to shield the man from future shots. Chester yells, “Damn it. Get him inside the farmhouse. I'm going after the shooter.” He spurs his horse toward the hill, trying to dodge from cover to cover. Chester keeps a gun in his left hand.  Berg and Wagner ride back to the farmhouse. Chester rides directly to the hill. When he reaches the crest of it he sees a single rider galloping off, now a quarter-mile distant and heading away. The rider has on a leather coat, dark hat and is atop of an Appaloosa horse. Chester stops and spits in the dirt. “Blast it.” He wheels Lookout around and rides back to the farmhouse. He meets Berg and Wagner there. Berg asks, “Who was it, Deputy?” Chester replies, “I don't know. He got away before I could reach him. He was wearing a leather coat and dark hat. His horse was an Appaloosa. Sound familiar to either of you two?” Neither Berg or Wagner recognize that description. They head back to the farmhouse where Clifford Allman is at. Berg asks about the remaining ranch hand, Carsten Block, as is told he is away on an errand. “An errand to where?” Berg asks, and is told “Galeyville.” Back in town, Jake Cook seeks out Darla Peacock.  She eyes him somewhat suspiciously when he saunters into her place, he has not often been there. After some charming and brief Jake-like pleasantries he gets down to business.  He begins the conversation, “I wanted to let you know that the Lucky Lady would be starting up a Faro table or maybe two. I do not know if that would have an impact on your business or not. It must be somewhat challenging to draw crowds in a small place. I know that we found it necessary to enlarge in order to fend off the competition from the other bigger saloons. I have been told that you have had some difficulty of late due to some boorish fellow and his friends making some of your regulars uncomfortable. When I heard that I got to thinking....” Jake sprouts a disarming smile. “Word is you are a mighty fine Faro dealer. So I wondered if you would like to come to the Lucky Lady and run our main Faro table? You would no longer have to worry about security or running a saloon. Your regular customers would not have to worry about any trouble, and you would likely enjoy many new customers from among the folks that come through a much larger saloon. We already have entertainment and will be renting rooms soon too. I bet you make most or your money right there,” Jake points to the Faro table, “anyway. Why not concentrate on that?” Jake spreads his smile again. “Is this something that might interest you, Darla Peacock?” She says, “And what about my fiance Michael George? Are you offering him a job as well? And for that matter what do you propose we do with our saloon?” Finance? Jake thinks to himself, I did not do my homework here. He decides to rely on the information that Job had given him and be as diplomatic as possible.   He adds, “I am sure you could sell it, your next door neighbor would likely wish to expand his saloon. Helping the competition would not be in the best interests of the Lucky Lady though. It is a good size for a specialty store. This may well be another business opportunity. With all the newcomers to town recently a niche that needs filling is almost certain. If there was some other business that you or Michael were passionate about it might just be the right time. If not, I am always looking for business opportunities. If you were interested we could work together and find some unique talent in the newcomers and start something. I have the means to invest in it and would rather see that than it going to my competition. We do have an opening for a bartender. I was not going to be so presumptuous as to assume just because you were interested that Michael would be interested as well. Do you think he would like to join us too?” She says, “I will have to discuss this with him but I am definitely interested. I agree that Mr. Lumley would probably pay the most, but am not overly fond of him as his establishment has stolen most of our customers. Thank you for the offer Mr. Cook. When do you want an answer by?”   He states, “There is no rush to decide, you can have a few days if you need them. On the other hand, there is money burning in miners pockets and if you wanted to give it a try come by the Lucky Lady tonight.” Again Jake gives her a broad friendly smile and tips his hat. “I will let Job Kane know you are interested. Have a pleasant day.” Jake goes back to the Saloon and leaves Job a note about his conversation with Darla Peacock. Since it is early still, he decides to have a quick ride out to the mine. He casts about for someone to accompany him wishing that Nanuet was around. Not finding Chester, he looks for Jeff Mills, Job's cousin or some other friend of his that might be interested in passing the time. Since it is early still, he decides to have a quick ride out to the mine. He casts about for someone to accompany him wishing that Nanuet was around. Not finding Chester, he looks for Jeff Mills, Job's cousin or some other friend of his that might be interested in passing the time.   Job is busy with some new recruits for the fire company and Al Caine isn't around. But he finds a willing companion in Kate's brother Phillip. This is the young man's last night in the city and he very enthusiastically wants to see an operating mine. Phillip saddle's up Kate's horse and joins Jake for the trip. The five-mile ride out to the Fisk Mountain mine is uneventful. They approach the mine from the southeast, seeing the mountain silhouetted in the distance. The mining operations are not visible yet, being on the opposite side of the peak, but Phillip is curious about the long cigar-shaped balloon anchored in the valley between Fisk and Bowie Mountains. They see a group of twenty men gathered about and in the valley, some of which are armed, so Jake thinks it best to talk to his mining partners before approaching that bunch. They circumnavigate the mountain and Jake sees to his satisfaction that things have progressed nicely in the few weeks since he was last out this way. Wooden ramps and scaffolding have been erected to the upper elevation where the silver vein had been discovered and a cave twelve-feet wide, eight-feet high and fifteen feet deep has already been excavated. The ore has been brought down using baskets attached to pulleys. The dwarf Torvald MacNaulty approaches them and yells out “Hello Jake, good of you to stop by.” “Greetings partner.” Jake hollers back. They dismount and approach. “The improvements in the mine operations look impressive. Jeff Mills ideas seem to be working well and then some. You are well on your way to lining those deep pockets of yours with silver.” Jake chuckles. “Let me introduce Phillip Kale, he is Katherine's brother.”  Jake then says, “I just thought I would check in. I do not get out here often enough. Besides the obvious progress I see, how is everything?” Torvald says, “Well, I can't say that Mr. Mills had anything to do with this, what with the Government not letting him be involved with ore extraction operations.” He then winks at Jake and says, “But we were given some nice diagrams and blueprints that we used for this construction. One of our guards Sampson Hill gave us those, we just assumed that Hill drew them out. Really no reason to think otherwise. I suppose we could ask him, but he's not around now right now. He's taken a few days off for firefighter training.” Humphrey Lewis catches Jake's eye and comes over. “Hi Jake, How you doing?” They shake hands and Lewis says, “So far so good. You've probably only seen around $ 300 added to your bank account for your ten-percent share. That's because we still have most of what we took out here.” He points to an engine attached to a large boiling tank and odd-looking six-foot-square metal box. He says, “Torvald has been using that steam-powered crusher, he got it from a dwarven mining operation that went bust out in California. He figures that by doing some preliminary work out here we can cut down the amount of ore needing processed by the Silverbell Mining Company by half. We'll start sending what we've got into town early next week so the money will start to really roll in then.” Jake whistles, “You fellows never cease to amaze me. Give me a shout when things are ready to move and I will make sure it all gets there safe and sound. I noticed our new neighbors over there,” Jake indicates behind him with his thumb towards the large floating cigar. “Have they been causing any concern or are they a friendly lot?”  He replies, “Good neighbors so far. The land and balloon are owned by Arcade's Gang so I doubt anybody will try to mess with them. Their guards and ours share coffee and are on good terms, so I'm sure that mutual aide could be given if needed.  Those new guys over there right now are the balloon manufacturers. A German general runs that operation and they are now talking about moving their current factory in Mexico up here instead.” Jake asks, “Why move it here?”  He replies, “Near as I can tell. That newspaper publisher Morgan Arcadiam managed to convince them to do that. You'd have to ask him. This election seems to have accelerated the process though, seems that the General has ordered his five-dozen or so workers to get their butts here by 5:00 P.M. on Sunday in order to register to vote.” Jake laughs at that. “That will put a burr under saddles of Fisk AND the Vigilance committee. Speaking of that snake in the grass, he seems mighty anxious for the town to incorporate and to include all the land that he can. Anything that Hamilton Fisk is anxious for makes me uncomfortable. You have any ideas what he is scheming?” MacNaulty says, “He probably thinks he has enough votes to win, can't think of anything else. I'm just glad Isby is running things, he's one man who can't be bought.” Jake agrees with him and they talk for a little while before Jake asks if Phillip can get a tour of the operations. “He was fairly excited just to come out here.” Afterwards before they head back Jake asks if they need anything sent out from town. “We can celebrate at the Lucky Lady as soon as the next big batch is safely in the bank.”Their short visit to the mine complete, Jake leads them back to town. They only tarry shortly to stare at the large floating object in the valley before exercising the horses a bit on the way back to Promise City. They part company at the stables, Phillip rushes to travel with his family to the ranch and Jake goes back to the saloon. He quickly bores there and meanders back to the house where he is equally as bored in little time. After wondering how to amuse himself for several long minutes, he is drawn to the safe and removes a letter. With a smirk he opens Kitty Trent's response to the possibility an inheritance. He examines it for some long minutes; an observer who did not know Jake's talent might assume it was casually. Then as suddenly as if a bell had rung, Jake withdrew some fresh parchment from the desk along with pen and ink and began writing. He practiced letters, words, distinguishing flourishes. He adjusted size, length and spacing of the strokes on the paper. Soon a stack of papers with nothing but gibberish upon them was a arrayed around him. The most recent of which looked strikingly like the graceful script of Evan Adair's concubine. It was now late in the afternoon, nearly time to eat and be ready to deal at the Lucky Lady. Jake carefully folded the letter and locked it safely away. He gathered his practice copies and placed them in the small kitchen stove and set them alight with a single word, “Indencie.” He decided that he would have a light meal of Maria's cooking and strode to the saloon, his mind exploring all the interesting things he could accomplish with a letter from Kitty Trent.</blockquote>

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