Glorious, page 32
The governor paused, then raised his right forefinger in warning.
“Remember, though, that while success is looming, it is never guaranteed. There remain impediments. I note specifically the ongoing presence of Apaches. We’re working hard to root them out, I’m cooperating all I can with President Grant’s peace commission to them, but at present they’re still dangerous and they’re all around you. My good friend Collin MacPherson has informed me that at least one war party has been recently spotted in the vicinity. I urge you to observe great caution as you venture out in search of ore. God willing, the day shall come soon when the Apache threat is no more. But for now, remain alert, and in particular cooperate with Mr. MacPherson’s fine men as they endeavor to keep you safe from the savages.”
McLendon and Saint looked at each other and shook their heads. “MacPherson’s foxed us,” the sheriff said. “He got to the governor first.”
“We can’t give up. Let’s see how it plays out.”
The governor spoke a little longer. He reminded everyone to support local businesses, be mindful of obeying territorial laws, and, above all, “always vote Republican.” Then he waved and sat down. Collin MacPherson announced that dinner was served. Everyone lined up for plates of thick, juicy steak along with fresh-baked tortillas and frijoles. The musicians played and some of the women who lived on the ranch danced.
Afterward, MacPherson instructed everyone to walk through the gate to an area just west of the compound, where they found targets attached to hay bales and several dummies made of white sheets and stuffed with straw that were suspended from T-shaped supports.
“My vaqueros are now going to demonstrate their skills in the warlike arts,” he said. “Benches are provided for our much-respected town founders.” Ike Clanton and Lemmy Duke escorted Charlie and Rose Rogers, Crazy George and Mary Somebody, Major Mulkins, Salvatore and Gabrielle Tirrito, and Joe Saint to seats in front. Sally and Abigail, the Owaysis whores, weren’t included, but Girl clung to Mary and sat next to her.
“You, too, McLendon,” Ike snickered, grabbing his arm.
McLendon jerked free. “I’m not a founder.”
“Tough shit. Boss says you sit up there with them. He wants you and your friends to get real good looks.” There seemed little use in arguing. Most of the crowd stood behind the benches. The Chinese were herded off to one side, where the late-afternoon sun shone directly in their eyes.
The demonstrations were impressive. MacPherson and Governor Safford sat on a bench apart from everyone else. Before each event, MacPherson explained what everyone was about to see. First came basic pistol marksmanship. A half-dozen vaqueros blasted away at hay bale targets, and afterward the targets were passed around so all could see the holes blown squarely in the center of the bull’s-eyes. Then Angel Misterio threw knives with such incredible speed and precision that the blur of his arm seemed simultaneous with the thunk of the blades burying themselves in hay.
Cattle were driven in front of the crowd, and the vaqueros demonstrated their roping skills. Then MacPherson announced the grand finale.
“Please observe this closely, friends, especially the ordnance involved. I have a business acquaintance back east named Oliver Winchester. His company manufactures the repeating rifles with which I believe you’re all familiar. Within a year Ollie hopes to market his latest model. Not to bore the women, but these will be center rather than rim fire, in regards to where the firing pin strikes the cartridge. That means the Winchester ’73s will fire more powerfully and accurately than any previous rifle. Ollie had some sample weapons he wanted tested, and so he sent them to me at Culloden Ranch. My men now have superior firepower to anyone, anywhere. As a fighting force, they are virtually invincible. See for yourselves.” He barked an order and ten vaqueros led by Lemmy Duke raced from the compound past the crowd. They were all mounted on wiry Mexican horses and had Winchesters in one hand. Duke signaled and the riders dropped their reins, aimed their rifles, and from their galloping horses opened fire at the dummies hanging from the supports. The dummies seemed to almost instantly disintegrate. One moment they dangled, and the next they were reduced to scraps of material and wisps of straw floating down into the dirt. Even after the shooting was over, McLendon’s ears rang uncomfortably.
“That concludes our program—almost,” MacPherson said. “Governor Safford has one more announcement.”
The governor rose and smiled. “First, let’s all express appreciation to our most gracious host, Collin MacPherson.” He clapped his hands and the crowd dutifully joined in the applause. “Well, now. I believe we are next scheduled to depart this fine ranch and journey to the site of the Sears and Sons mine excavation. But before we do, I have exciting news. Promising as it may be, one mine alone won’t be the making of the town of Glorious. More are needed.”
Ike Clanton led two men through the crowd. One was tall and grizzled. The other sported a brushy mustache and wore a particularly wide-brimmed hat.
“Why, it’s Boze Bell and Johnny Boggs,” Mulkins said. “Why are they being brought up to the governor?”
Safford dramatically shook hands with the two prospectors, then gestured for Collin MacPherson to join them.
“Isolated as you’ve been, no one could blame you good people for wondering if your governor was even aware of you and whether he and the territorial legislature have your best interests at heart,” Safford said. “Well, here’s confirmation in its finest form. Mr. Bell and Mr. Boggs have made a significant strike, and I hereby announce that they have sold their claim—to myself and Collin MacPherson. The Safford-MacPherson Mining Group will begin excavation within weeks. So never doubt that I hold Glorious in the highest esteem, for, from this moment and by way of investment, I am one of you. Now, if you will, form a line, for before we set off to the Sears and Sons site, I want to personally greet each of you and shake your hands.”
“Son of a bitch,” Major Mulkins mumbled. “MacPherson’s got the governor in his pocket too.”
“We might as well get back to town,” Saint said. “There’s nothing we can do here.” But the Culloden vaqueros, some of them carrying Winchesters still warm from firing, herded everyone into a single-file line to greet the governor. The Glorious founders were among the first. Crazy George nodded to Safford, and Mary Somebody said, “Pleased, Your Honor,” and made a sort of clumsy curtsy. Salvatore Tirrito shook hands firmly, and McLendon thought Safford smiled a bit too intimately at Gabrielle. Major Mulkins, too furious to pretend, briefly touched the governor’s hand with his and walked away as quickly as he could. Safford greeted Saint with “It’s the local lawman,” and Joe managed a weak smile. The governor kissed Rose Rogers on the cheek. Her husband said mournfully, “I had some remarks to deliver,” and Safford said smoothly, “I’m sure there’ll be another opportunity.”
Then it was McLendon’s turn. The governor held out his hand. McLendon took it and pulled himself in close. “We have concerns, sir,” he whispered.
Safford pulled away. His eyes widened for a moment. Then he said, “Good to see you.”
“Governor, it’s about Collin MacPherson.”
“Good to see you,” Safford repeated.
Angel Misterio appeared beside the governor. His dark eyes burned into McLendon’s as he softly murmured, “Please move along, señor. The governor has many more people to greet.”
McLendon saw Collin MacPherson standing a few yards away, smoking a cigar. He walked over to him, with Misterio just a step behind.
“Oh, McLendon,” MacPherson said. “You should have left as I suggested. Perhaps you still could. No promises, of course.”
“Why do this, MacPherson? You don’t have to.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not necessary to destroy these decent people. No one has to be hurt. Instead of taking their businesses, you could just start your own in town, build a bigger and better saloon and hotel and dry goods shop and farrier’s. Undercut their prices, take all their customers, and they’ll give up and go. You proved your point today with the guns and the governor. If you’ll just wait, it wouldn’t take long.”
MacPherson regarded McLendon like a scientist contemplating where to drive the pin through a bug. “No,” he said presently. “I want it now. Waiting any longer would be inconvenient. Good-bye, Mr. McLendon.”
TWENTY
That night, Ike Clanton visited the founders: Crazy George and Mary Somebody at the Owaysis, Charlie and Rose Rogers in their cabin behind the farrier’s shop, Major Mulkins in the office of the Elite Hotel, and Salvatore and Gabrielle Tirrito in their dry goods store. McLendon and Saint, leaning on the outer adobe wall of the jail, watched as he went to each in turn.
“It’s an ultimatum from MacPherson, wait and see,” McLendon predicted. “Say, I was so unnerved by MacPherson and the governor that I never thought to ask: Did you get your moment with Deputy Marshal Holmes and share our suspicions with him?”
“I tried, but he didn’t let me tell much. Hunky-Dory just said that Safford considers MacPherson to be not only a business partner but a close friend, and the governor doesn’t like to hear words spoken against his friends.”
“Then we can’t hope for any assistance from Hunky-Dory?”
“He’s going to do what he can, which is to try and come through here every ten days or so to make sure we’re all right.”
Ike went to the Tirritos last, and when he was done there he strolled back to the livery, nodding pleasantly as he passed McLendon and the sheriff.
“Good evening, both,” Ike said. Saint nodded back. McLendon didn’t.
“Come on,” he said to the sheriff. “Let’s collect everyone and see what Ike’s been up to.”
When everyone was gathered in the family area of the dry goods store, they had the same tale to tell. Ike had made to them what he emphasized was a onetime offer from Collin MacPherson to buy their businesses. The proposed purchase prices were adequate though not overwhelming: $8,000 for the Owaysis, $7,500 for the farrier’s, $12,000 for the Elite Hotel, and $5,000 for the dry goods store. In each instance there were the same conditions: all tools, goods, furniture, and other items directly connected to the businesses must be left intact for the new proprietor, and the old owners would leave Glorious immediately after receiving the agreed-upon bank drafts.
“‘Out with the old’ was the way Ike termed it,” Mulkins said. “He said Mr. MacPherson expected we’d want to make our fresh starts somewhere else as promptly as possible.”
“He also stressed that our answers were expected quite soon,” Gabrielle said. She sat on a corner of one bed. Saint sat beside her and openly held her hand. “He said that Mr. MacPherson was not a man of infinite patience.”
“Fuck if I’ll do it,” Crazy George spluttered. “Goddamn rich man saying, ‘Take some money and haul ass.’ Let the sumbitch and his Mexicans try to take my saloon away from me. I’ll cave in all their heads. I’ll die before I roll over like they want.”
“Don’t rule out that possibility,” McLendon cautioned. “We’ve seen what happens to those who don’t agree to MacPherson’s demands. Your lives hang in the balance, make no mistake. The money on offer is reasonable. You’re surrounded by armed men and clearly cut off from assistance by the territorial government. Weigh your responses carefully.”
“Mary and me ain’t selling out,” George declared. “I’ll die before I give in.”
“Same for me,” Mulkins said. “Let MacPherson do his worst and be damned.”
“Papa and I won’t sell out, either,” Gabrielle said. Salvatore Tirrito, seated at the table, set his mouth in a grim line and nodded.
Everyone turned to Mayor Rogers, who swallowed hard and looked regretful.
“I’m choosing to accept Mr. MacPherson’s offer,” he said. “Tomorrow I’ll go to Culloden and tell him so. Me and Rosie will depart on Thursday’s stage to Florence.”
“You can’t do that, Charlie,” Mulkins protested. “You’re the mayor, you’re the leader of this town. If you knuckle under, that will encourage MacPherson all the more to stampede the rest of us.”
“I know, Major, and I regret it with all my heart. But, you see, it’s Rosie. She’s of a tremulous disposition in the best of times. If I turn down MacPherson and events grow ugly, why, I know she’d react poorly. And if violence ensued—well, I just can’t risk losing my jelly bunny. I hope you understand.”
Mulkins and Crazy George began to protest, but Gabrielle interrupted. “Of course you must do as you think best, Mayor Rogers,” she said. “Rose is your primary consideration and you place her welfare above that of all others. That’s how it should be.” She looked meaningfully at the others in the room. “Let no one attempt to persuade you otherwise.”
“Thank you, Miss Gabrielle,” Rogers said. “Well, I suppose I should go home to Rosie now. While Mr. MacPherson’s offer encompasses the tools and such in my shop, I don’t believe he wants our personal possessions in the cabin. So there’s packing to do. I’ll say my final farewells to you all on Thursday, before we depart.”
“But what will we do for a mayor?” Mulkins asked.
“You be mayor, Major,” Rogers said, and left the shop.
After Rogers was gone, Mulkins said, “I don’t want to be mayor. All I want to do is run my hotel. One of you others be mayor. Mary, how about you?”
“God, no,” Mary replied. “I’ve got enough trying to keep the saloon in order.”
“Nobody needs to be mayor right now,” McLendon said. “It’s the least of concerns. MacPherson’s made his offers and he’s not going to be pleased by refusals. As soon as you turn him down, you can count on him to act. Maybe the Apaches will strike right here in town. He’s surely got something in mind.”
Joe Saint had been silent, but now he leaned forward. “Apaches. Wait a minute. Let’s think about the Apaches.”
“But there aren’t any, Joe, at least not war bands poised to attack us,” McLendon said. “MacPherson and his men have set it up to appear that way. We’ve already agreed on that.”
“I know, but there may be a way we can turn it to our advantage. MacPherson’s vaqueros supposedly guard us, but, by definition, who ideally protects civilians from the Indians? It’s the Army. And the Army is separate from any territorial control.”
“But there’s no specific Indian threat,” McLendon protested. “MacPherson made it all up. That’s what we wanted to tell the governor.”
“Yes, I know. But what if we took the opposite tack with the Army? What if we told them that MacPherson was right, that we were in grave danger of immediate attack and resulting slaughter?”
McLendon considered that for a moment, then understood the point the sheriff wanted to make. “You’re right, Joe. If the Army sent a cavalry contingent to provide additional security, it would be impossible for MacPherson to fake Apache deprivations here, at least while the soldiers were in place.”
Gabrielle said, “That would gain us some time, even if Mr. MacPherson was furious at us for spurning his offers.”
“Yes,” McLendon said, his mind racing now. “And there’s been the second silver strike. Word’s spreading about it—has to be. Remember after the first one how prospectors flocked here, and that fellow set up the whorehouse in a tent?”
“A tent full of poxy Mexican girls,” Mary Somebody said.
“Yes. And we said it was only a matter of time before more businesses got started, competition for you founders. All right, then. So we get the Army here, and that stalls MacPherson, and if we can keep the soldiers here long enough, just a month or even a few weeks might be enough, then more people will come flooding in and additional businesses might be established—another saloon or two, stores selling dry goods stock, even a hotel. Under tents to begin with, maybe, but businesses just the same. MacPherson couldn’t buy out or murder them all. And that would mean there would be no advantage to him of killing any of you. It could work, Joe, it could work.”
“Another hotel,” Mulkins mused. “Well, let it come. I’ll match my service and fine windows against any competitor, and may the best man win.”
“Damned if I’ll serve gaudy mixed drinks,” Crazy George huffed. “The other fellows can serve ladylike concoctions.”
“Let’s not look that far ahead,” Saint said. “We’ve got a plan with potential, but we need to move fast. It all begins with alerting the Army. I know the area commander is at Camp McDowell, north of Florence, near Maricopa Wells. He needs to be alerted to the masses of Apaches gathered just outside town. I’ll get a mule and start for the camp tomorrow.”
“Hold a minute,” McLendon said. “We can’t forget MacPherson’s watching our every move. I suppose you’d rent the mule from Ike Clanton? Well, once you do, what’s to stop him from scurrying to Culloden and informing MacPherson that the sheriff’s bound out of town, probably trying to get help? A squad of vaqueros would set out on your trail. They’d find you and cut you down. You’re not a fighter, Joe. You’d not stand a chance.”
Saint’s brow furrowed. “Don’t waste time with petty insults.”
McLendon noticed that Gabrielle was glaring at him too. “I intended no insult, only honest appraisal. I’m not a fighter, either. None of us are.”
“All right, then, I’ll borrow a mule from a prospector. Ike Clanton need not know.”
“Don’t forget the guards at either end of town,” McLendon said. “They’d still see you ride off. We can be certain that they’ve all been instructed to immediately report any of our comings and goings. The sheriff setting out alone? MacPherson would know it in minutes.”
