The Lawman

by G. Michael Hopf

  “Seventy thousand?” Isaac asked, shocked by the amount.

  “I told you his town did well. So here we are at the table, I raised him more than he had, he asked me for another loan, and I told him no. You should have seen him; his face turned the brightest red. I then told him that if he wanted to stay in the game, he needed to put his town on the table. At first he refused, but before he left the table, he said he would. I suppose he felt his hand was strong, which I knew it wasn’t. When he put down his hand, he thought he had it won; then he saw mine, full house, aces high. He exploded, tossed the table, and proceeded to threaten my life. He accused me of cheating, which promptly resulted him being tossed out. The irony was, I had cheated…I cheated from the first hand, I saw a weakness in him, and I was going to exploit it. I broke him and took the town. A week afterwards I felt so bad about it, I went to see him and gave him money,” Mortimer said, laughing. “I felt sorry that I’d cheated him. Now you’re standing in the house that was his in the town that he once owned. The moral of the story is that every man has a weakness. Find Wilkes’ weakness and exploit it, Sheriff.”

  “You sorta stole this town,” Isaac said, a feeling of disgust in his stomach.

  “I didn’t steal it; he gave it away. There’s a difference. He should have had more discipline than that,” Mortimer said, defending himself.

  “Does your wife know how you acquired the town?” Isaac asked.

  “No, she doesn’t need to know, nor do I bother to tell her the details. The fairer sex needn’t be concerned with the affairs of men,” Mortimer said.

  “Interesting story,” Isaac said.

  “Remember the moral of it—every man has a weakness,” Mortimer said, tipping his glass.

  “I’ll keep that in mind, good night,” Isaac said.

  “Good first day. Go get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mortimer said.

  “Oh, how’s Mrs. Corrigan? Is she feeling better?” Isaac asked.

  “She is better, thank you for asking. She wanted to know if you’ll be available to have dinner with us tomorrow. I told her I wasn’t sure if you were,” Mortimer said.

  “I’ll be here,” Isaac said. “Good evening, Mortimer.”

  “Good evening, Sheriff.”

  Isaac went to his room, closed the door and washed up. When he pulled the quilt back on the bed, a piece of paper fell on the floor. He picked it up, unfolded it, and began to read. It was from Lucy.

  Dear Isaac,

  Please know that I still care. I have suffered four long years without you. It would be a lie to say I don’t still love you, but think of it now as love that can never be conjoined. No matter how my heart aches for us to be together, I’ve come to the realization that it will never be. There was something I never told you: my father is coming to Bane. He is set to arrive on November 3rd. Once he sees you, you’ll be arrested or, worse, hanged. I implore you to leave. Leave this town. Go do what I can’t do, get out, live your life, and find love elsewhere. I am lost to you now.

  Lucy

  Isaac folded the note and set it on the nightstand. A crushing emotional wave crashed over him. He sat on the bed and stared at the paper in his hand. She had admitted the night before that she still cared for him, and now she stated she loved him. He reread the note. This time he came away with the sentiment that she wasn’t being selfless, but crying out for help. She was trapped and she needed him to save her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  OCTOBER 31, 1869

  MCCARTHY'S LIVERY AND STABLES, BANE, NEVADA

  Isaac tossed and turned the entire night. His mind ran through a multitude of scenarios, all of which resulted in him and Lucy leaving but ultimately being found by her father and husband. While he had her love, they had insufficient resources to pull from. If he was going to run away with her, they too would need a vast fortune to leverage, but how could he amass such an amount in a short period of time.

  His thoughts kept drifting back to the mine and to silver. Then an idea came to him, but if he was going to pull it off, he’d need the one and only person he could trust, who was also the only person who knew who he truly was: Connor.

  Isaac banged on the door until someone answered.

  “What do ya want?” Duncan howled.

  “I’m looking for Connor.”

  The door creaked open and there stood Duncan, rubbing his swollen eyes. “Do you know what time it is?” Duncan snorted.

  “I know it’s early, but I need to speak with your brother right now. It’s an emergency,” Isaac said.

  Duncan squinted and asked, “You’re his friend, the sheriff, aren’t ya?”

  “Yes, I’m Sheriff Travis,” Isaac replied, pulling open his overcoat so the man could see his badge.

  “I suppose it’s a good thing for my brother to have the sheriff as his friend versus the opposite, unless you’re coming here to take him in for God knows what. You do know he’s an ex-convict, don’t ya?”

  Before Isaac could answer, Connor bellowed from the loft of the barn. “Shut your piehole, Duncan. The sheriff there is my friend. I’m sure he’s here for a social visit.”

  Isaac looked past Duncan and finally saw Connor climbing down a ladder. “Connor, I need to talk with you.”

  “It must be urgent if you’ve come at this hour. Couldn’t it wait until the sun rose?” Connor said, walking towards him while scratching his butt.

  “There’s no time to waste,” Isaac answered.

  Connor slapped Duncan on the shoulder and said, “Invite the man in, ya damn fool, and go make us a pot of tea. Make yourself useful.”

  “I’m going back to bed. To hell with you two,” Duncan said, walking off.

  “Get inside. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there,” Connor said, a blanket draped over his shoulders.

  Isaac stepped inside and closed the large door behind him.

  “Come with me to the back. We can sit down,” Connor said then grabbed a lantern from near the door to guide the way.

  “It’s good to see you,” Isaac said.

  The two sat down on straw bales in the back.

  “What can I do for ya, Sheriff?” Connor asked.

  “I need you.”

  “You know how to make a man feel special, don’t ya?” Connor laughed.

  “She loves me,” Isaac declared.

  Connor stood up immediately and said, “Show yourself out. I’m not here to listen to more mushy boy-like talk.”

  “Fine, how would you like to potentially make a lot of money?” Isaac asked.

  “Now you’re talking my language,” Connor said, sitting back down.

  “It’s possibly dangerous,” Isaac said.

  “Dangerous? That sounds exciting after working two days or so in a barn with horses. Risking my life sounds like an adventure.”

  “It would require you to work for me as a deputy,” Isaac said.

  “A deputy? Does it pay well?” Connor asked.

  Isaac cocked his head in disbelief. “Did you not hear what I said about making a lot of money?”

  “Yes, right, correct. Go ahead. And yes, I want to make a lot of money.”

  “There’s only potential, but you will be compensated fairly if it doesn’t work out,” Isaac said.

  “Count me in,” Connor said.

  “What about your brother?” Isaac asked.

  From the loft, Duncan hollered, “Take him with ya. He’s been worthless here.”

  “Oh, to hell with ya,” Connor spat.

  “It’s only temporary, so he’ll be returning, Duncan,” Isaac said.

  “Keep him as long as you want,” Duncan replied.

  “My family is so loving.” Connor laughed. “So tell me, what am I to be doing?”

  “It concerns a silver shipment that was stolen. We’re going to try to find it,” Isaac said.

  “And if we find it, do we keep it?” Connor asked.

  “Exactly,” Isaac said.

  SHERIFF’S OFFICE, BANE, NEVADA
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  Filled with a strong sense of purpose, Isaac went to work ready to put together the remaining part of his plan. With time limited, he had none to waste.

  As he was dismounting, he spotted an unlikely pair: Marcus and Edwin. The two were huddled close outside Smith’s Mercantile. Finding it odd, he watched them. Edwin appeared frantic, his hands and mouth moving wildly, while Marcus stood tall and motionless as usual.

  He cinched his horse to the post and kept watching. What could they be discussing? he wondered. They were both the top lieutenants for two men who despised each other. Were they working on some sort of truce? Were they concocting a scheme behind their illustrious leaders’ backs? And could he use it to his advantage? He made a point to find out, and the one person he knew would open up was Edwin.

  “Morning, Sheriff,” Wallace said as he exited the sheriff’s office.

  “Deputy, how are you today?” Isaac asked.

  “All’s well. I have a fella in here says he’s your friend. He’s got a weird accent,” Wallace said.

  “His name is Connor and he’s a new deputy. How are we doing getting the remaining deputies?” Isaac asked. He glanced quickly over to Marcus and Edwin and saw they were now gone.

  “We’ll have everyone by the end of the day.”

  “How many do we have now?”

  “Eighteen,” Wallace replied.

  “Are they all here?” Isaac asked.

  “All but a couple who worked last night,” Wallace answered.

  Isaac hopped onto the walkway, pushed by Wallace, and entered the office. Gathered all around was the gaggle of new hires. By the looks of them, they were all former miners.

  “I’ve given them all a talking to. They know what we expect out of them,” Wallace said.

  “Firearms? Do we have enough firearms for them all?” Isaac asked.

  “No,” Wallace answered.

  “Go to Smith’s Merc and buy all he has, and if that’s not enough, go find more. We need these men armed,” Isaac ordered.

  “Yes, Sheriff,” Wallace said, departing the office.

  “Show of hands how many fought during the war?” Isaac asked.

  Two-thirds of the men raised their hands.

  “This son of a bitch here is a rebel, thought ya should know, Sheriff,” a man bellowed, his index finger pointed at a man near the corner of the room.

  “I don’t give a damn. We’re all Americans now, and if you didn’t know, I was a Confederate too,” Isaac said, keeping his role-playing in mind.

  The man closed his mouth and looked down sheepishly.

  “Now line up. I want to chat with each of you; then I’ll assign you to the tasks I have in mind,” Isaac said, taking a seat at his desk.

  One by one, Isaac interviewed each man. He made copious notes, and when he was finished, he made a list of where each would work. Those men who claimed to be veterans, he narrowed down further. He needed a team of men whom he thought capable who would ride with Connor.

  Wallace appeared holding a crate. “I cleaned Smith out. Got nine Army Colts and four Navys.”

  “Good, now look at this list and assign a firearm to each of the men who has a check mark,” Isaac ordered.

  “Whatcha have in mind, Sheriff?” Wallace asked.

  “We’re taking back this town one deputy at a time. And in order to do that, we need to have a sizable force. Now I’m putting you in charge of providing law enforcement for the town, Connor will take charge of the roads in, and I’ll begin focusing on who stole the silver shipment so we can find it.”

  “But, Sheriff, that shipment is long gone. You’ll never find it now,” Wallace said.

  Isaac patted his shoulder and said, “I don’t like the word never, so let’s refrain from using it.”

  “Yes, Sheriff.”

  “You all have your responsibilities; now get to it,” Isaac barked to his deputies.

  Everyone began to hustle, a sense of pride in them all.

  A smile creased Isaac’s face. He was enjoying his role as a sheriff; he never imagined he’d be in this position and felt he was adapting to it quite well.

  CORRIGAN MINING COMPANY OFFICE, BANE, NEVADA

  A crisp chill swept across Mortimer’s face as he walked to his office, reminding him that soon snow would start to fall, greatly slowing the entire operation. With the smelter down, he’d be even further behind. Although he could sell the raw ore, it garnered him greater profit to melt it down and extract the pure silver.

  Having his new sheriff provided him much relief; his sleepless nights were now gone. It wasn’t that he was stress-free, he just had a few less things to focus on, giving him time to manage the reconstruction of the smelting facility and prepare the presentation he’d give to Everett upon his arrival.

  Mortimer entered his office to find Edwin sitting in a chair in front of his desk. He appeared anxious as he chewed on his fingernails. “Is everything okay?”

  Unable to look at Mortimer, Edwin answered, “Fine, everything is fine.”

  Mortimer hung up his overcoat and took a seat behind his desk. “Ed, you don’t look fine. What ails you?”

  “Nothing, I’m fine,” Edwin snapped.

  Not used to seeing Edwin act this way, Mortimer pried. “You can always talk to me. You know that?”

  “I’ve been looking into that parcel of land Mr. Wilkes is buying, and it appears it’s worthless. I don’t suggest you purchase it.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Mortimer asked.

  “The men I sent out came back and said it’s worthless,” Edwin said.

  “Worthless? Seems odd that Wilkes would move to purchase something without his own due diligence,” Mortimer said. He got up and began to pace. “Let’s send out another team; get them over there. I need to know about this parcel. If it truly has value, I want to buy it out from underneath Wilkes.”

  “But my men said—”

  “I heard you, Edwin, just send another team and do it fast,” Mortimer said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Seriously, what is wrong with you today? You look like you’re not sleeping,” Mortimer asked.

  “I haven’t been feeling well; I’m sure that’s it,” Edwin replied.

  “Go see the doc today after you’ve gotten everything else done,” Mortimer said.

  Getting to his feet, Edwin said, “I’ll do that.”

  Giving Edwin a glance, Mortimer asked, “You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

  “I would, sir.”

  “Good, now go get those men out to that land. I want to know by tomorrow night at the latest,” Mortimer said.

  Stopping at the door, Edwin said, “You’ll know by tomorrow.”

  CORRIGAN RESIDENCE, BANE, NEVADA

  Isaac entered the house. His nostrils flared when the savory aroma from the kitchen wafted over him. His mouth watered and his stomach churned.

  “Sheriff Travis, good to see you,” Phyllis said, walking around and taking his coat. “Supper will be on the table in fifteen minutes. Mrs. Corrigan was concerned you may not make it tonight.”

  Isaac smoothed his hair with his hand and adjusted his gun belt. “I’m here now.”

  Looking down at his holstered pistol, Phyllis said, “Best you go get cleaned up and put that away. I don’t think Mrs. Corrigan wants firearms at her dinner table.”

  Isaac glanced down and said, “You’re right. I’ll go get washed and more presentable.”

  “Sheriff, is that you?” Mortimer called out from the parlor.

  “I suppose I’ll do that after I speak with him,” Isaac said, smiling to Phyllis. He entered the parlor to find Mortimer seated in his favorite wing-back chair, a pipe in his hand. “Grab a drink and join me.”

  “Can I do that after I get cleaned up?” Isaac asked.

  “No, get in here and give me an update,” Mortimer said.

  Feeling he had no choice, Isaac poured a glass of whiskey and sat down in the opposite chair. “When I left the
office, we had finished hiring our last people. I spent the greater part of the day filling those special teams. No other word concerning Wilkes, and nothing about the silver either.”

  “The town seems to have settled down since your arrival. No shootings or stabbings, just your typical fisticuffs at the saloons,” Mortimer said.

  “Did I mention I’m having each supply train escorted through the pass?” Isaac asked.

  “Yes, you did. That’s a very good idea. Once those bandits get wind, we should see things settle down there as well,” Mortimer said. “And did you send a team with a private coach to pick up Mr. Wagner?”

  “I did,” Isaac said. The reminder that he had little time made him tense.

  “Good,” Mortimer said.

  Isaac took a large gulp and said, “I really should get cleaned up. I shouldn’t show up at your table covered in dust.”

  Mortimer glanced at Isaac and said, “Go ahead. I’ll see you in the dining room.”

  Isaac put his glass down and left the room. As he headed towards his room, he looked up and spotted Lucy watching him. He stopped and waved.