Spake As a Dragon

by Larry Hunt

  * * * * *

  “At this very minute, the men, who searched for the gold, are telling their friends and family that my days in the prison has warped my thinking. They are saying no one should listen to me about the gold. That is good for us. Next Elder Lindley we will need to devise a plan to remove the bells and their headstocks from your belfry. To be honest I have no idea how to do it, but I do know for over forty years you have been a master carpenter in these parts. You have built houses, barns, stores, bridges, and oh...you have built or supervised the building of almost everything in this valley. Elder Lindley you are the perfect man to come up with a way to remove the bells and headstocks from the belfry. You need to devise an excuse why they must be removed also without divulging their true identity.

  The final task is my responsibility. I must contact the Treasury Department of the United States and find out what is to be the disposition of the gold. I know what you all are thinking, I don’t want to give it up either, but it is not ours to keep we must give it back.”

  Lonnie looks sadly at Robert, “Robert, as you well know this is a poor town. Most folks around do not have two half-dimes to rub together. This terrible War has left us destitute and penniless. This gold could change our lives for the good. And besides, it has been lost for nearly a hundred years. The government doesn’t even know it is missing.”

  “Please, fellows I know how much good could be done with this gold. Much of it could be used by a lot of needy people as you say. My son Matthew and his father-in-law Mark Holmes need cash to buy supplies to prepare artificial legs for the cripples of the War. No better use could be made of some of the gold money. I could rebuild Scarlett. Nate and Sary could build a home to live in peacefully for the rest of their lives. Luke and Catherine could use it too. I know Lonnie, I could go on and on about the good deeds the money would do for my family. The same goes for your Lodge and Elder Lindley’s Meetinghouse, but again it does not belong to us. If we didn’t know to whom it belongs, it might be different, but we know the owner is the United States Treasury. Maybe the government might give us a small reward for finding and returning the gold.”

  GETTING RID OF THE GOLD

  Robert stands at the counter of the Western Union office in Scarlettsville, with pen and paper in hand. What is he to say? And to whom is he supposed to send the message?

  The clerk approaches, “Can I help mister? I can write it out if you need me to.”

  “Nah, I can read and write, I just don’t know what to say or who I am supposed to send the message to.”

  “Can you give me a hint, maybe I can help you compose your message.”

  The clerk’s words caused Robert to think – if I send this out, this young Western Union fellow is going to spread word all over town about the gold. Learning of the news of the gold is not a good idea. Looking up from the message pad Robert said to the clerk, “You know I believe I will wait until later.” He replaces the pen in its holder and walks out of the telegraph office. ‘What to do? What to do?’ He thinks.

  ‘Columbia! Columbia is the place we need to go to find out what to do with the gold. I need to go to the state capital and talk with those people. They will know what to do.’ He thought sticking his foot into the stirrup of his saddle.

  A quick trip back to Scarlett, Robert picks up Luke, and they head to the South Carolina capital of Columbia. From Scarlett, the capital is only a forty-five mile trip. The road from Scarlettsville to Columbia was first class; therefore, the two men should make good time arriving there sometime that same day.

  The two Scarburg men walk their horses down Assembly Street. They were told by a couple of men at the edge of town the South Carolina State House is located on the corner of Assembly and Gervais Streets.

  As Robert and Luke move toward the State House, they are amazed at the total destruction the War had leveled on the city. Most of the buildings along the grand avenue they travel are burnt and destroyed. Luke surveying the ruins from the back of his horse commented, “Those Yankees!”

  Robert responded, “No, those Damn Yankees!” Robert figured after the War the State House would be controlled and entirely run by Unionist. Anyone who held office prior to the War, did not, or could not hold any position within the state of South Carolina’s government now.

  “I’ve changed my mind, we’re not going to the State House. If we turn the gold over to these rascals, it will never make it back to Washington. They will find a way to keep it for themselves. No, we are heading to the nearest telegraph office. A message sent from here will do us no harm, the clerk will not know where we are from.”

  They follow the telegraph wires running along Assembly Street to the Western Union office. Robert dismounts, enters the room and approaches the counter in the telegraph office. He motions for the clerk. The clerk asked if he could be of help.

  “Yes, I want to send a telegram.”

  “Jot’er down on this pad, and I’ll send’er off Mister, or do you druther I jest tap it out.”

  “Okay, tapping it out will be fine.”

  The clerk returns to his telegraph key and keys in his station code. Turning to Robert, “Okay Mister, I’m ready. Who do we send this to?”

  “Send it to the President of the United States, Washington, D.C.”

  “What? Did you say the President of the United States?”

  “Yes! Something wrong with your hearing?”

  Shaking his head, the clerk began to key in the address. “Okay, what do you want to say to the President?”

  Sir have found large quantity of money belonging U.S. government. (stop)

  Believe from Revolutionary War (stop)

  Request disposition instructions. (stop)

 

  Awaiting reply.

  R. Smith. (stop)

  The telegraph operator keyed the message leaned back in his chair to think about what he had just done. He wanted desperately to ask Robert about the money, but he understood the operator’s job was to send and receive messages; they are not to become involved in the subject of the transmissions. Rather than asking a question the operator directed Robert and Luke to a bench to await an answer.

  The folks in Washington must operate efficiently; an answer returned almost immediately:

  R. Smith (stop)

  Columbia, SC (stop)

  What type money? (stop) How much money? (stop)

  J. Worthy (stop)

  Office Secretary of Treasury (stop)

  “Sir, do you wish to make a reply?”

  “Yes, send this:”

  Type – gold. Amount – One and one-half tons. (stop)

  The operator sat with his mouth open. “Send the response,” said Robert.

  Within minutes, another telegraph message was received, the sender was the same as before the message read:

  Thanks for considering Treasury. (stop).

  We do not buy output from mining operations. (stop)

  Take gold ore to nearest assay office. (stop)

  J. Worthy (stop)

  Office Secretary of the Treasury (stop)

  “Hmm...send them this reply:”

  Not ore. Refined 24 karat gold. Repeat have – 1-1/2 tons. (stop)

  Believe Gold from Revolutionary War period.(stop)

  Request disposition. (stop)

  R. Smith (stop)

  The operator had gone as far as his regulations require, but he could not resist, “Mister, do you realize you are saying to Washington that you have three thousand pounds of pure gold?”

  “Yeah,” said Robert, “we thought it was a lot too.”

  “How much exactly is that much gold worth?” The Western Union operator asked.

  “I don’t rightly know. Hand me that pad and a pen. Now let’s see: three thousand times sixteen ounces is forty-eight thousand ounces. Gold is selling today, I guess around thirty dollars an ounce,” Quickly to the calculations, “Let’s see that would be close to a 1.4 million dollars. Humm, I guess it is a lot. Wai
t a second; gold is measured in Troy ounces. A Troy pound of gold is only twelve ounces, so now we have,” Robert figured, “just a tad over one million dollars, or one million eighty thousand dollars to be exact.”

  The key on the telegraph machine began clicking; a new message was coming in from Washington:

   

  Understand. (stop)

  We have no procedure to accept proceeds from Revolutionary War time period. (stop)

  Money’s found belong to finder. (stop)

  J. Worthy (stop)

  “Okay, mister operator send this final message back to Washington:

  Understand U.S. will not accept. Finders awarded custody? (stop)

  R. Smith (stop)

  A couple of minutes later a response was received, it simply read:

  Correct, finders awarded custody of gold. Thank you for inquiry. (stop)_

  J. Worthy (stop)

  Office Secretary of Treasury (stop)

  Washington, D.C. (stop)

  The telegraph operator was almost in a state of shock – the gold was theirs – it belonged to Mr. R. Smith. The Government said so. He turns to Robert, “Is there anything more I can do for you Mr. Smith?”

  “Yeah, just one – could you please put that final response on one of your official yellow telegraph papers.”

  Standing on the sidewalk outside the telegraph office Robert could not speak, he merely handed the Western Union note to Luke. Luke bewildered said, “Father, it is ours! It really is ours – officially? The Government did not want it? What about that!”

  Robert sat down on the edge on the wooden sidewalk, leaned back against one of the posts and re-reads the telegraph, “Yeap that’s what this official telegraph paper says. Now we just have to figure out how to divide it up fairly.”

  “What do you mean ‘divide’ Father? The gold belongs to us, we found it!”

  “Well, we did find it Son, but remember the bells and headstocks were found on the Meetinghouse property, and the cannonballs were found stacked on the Masonic Lodge grounds.”

  “I agree with where the gold was found, but it had been hidden there for over seventy years, without us figuring out the mystery it would still be there for the next seventy years!”

  “I know Luke, but fair is fair. We’ll just have to figure it all out. Just think – over a million dollars! Let’s go home.”

  GOOD AND BAD NEWS

  Arriving back at Scarlett Robert and Luke gather the family together. All the Scarburgs, all the Holmes, Nate’s family, and Sary all crowd together in the parlor anxiously awaiting Robert to tell them how the trip to Columbia went.

  After everyone settles down, Robert begins, “Now Luke and I have some good news and some bad news. Which do y’all want to hear first?”

  Someone yelled out ‘bad’ and save the ‘good’ for last. “Okay,” replies Robert, “here is the bad: we found the right Department in the United States government where we needed to send the gold.”

  Around the room could be heard the soft moan of disappointment. “Ah gee,” said Thomas Henry, “I was thinkin’ how I was gonna buy me one of them new ‘yo-yo’ things.”

  And Stephen piped up, “Yeah, I wanted a ‘rolling hoop’, I saw them down at the mercantile store.”

  “I’m sorry too Robert,” exclaimed Malinda sadly, “I wanted some of those glass marbles and one of those new baseballs for the boys, and maybe a couple of store bought dolls for the girls. The girls are getting too old to be playing with their shuck dolls. It has been a long time since the children have had any real toys, but we should not have gotten our hopes up after all it is not our gold. I was just hoping the government might give us a small finders reward.”

  “Nah, there was no finder reward, but who wants to hear the ‘good’ news?” Everyone unanimously agrees.

  Taking the yellow telegraph response from his pocket, he unfolded it and heldholds it in the air for all to see, “Nope there is no reward, but the gold is not ours, huh? Yes, oh yes it is! That is the good news! The government said if we found it we could keep it. The gold is ours, it says so right here on this official Western Union telegram!” The room fell silent. Everyone was looking around at the others with a look of bewilderment.

  Someone says, “Ours..., ours to keep?”

  “Robert! You’re not saying the gold belongs to us to spend as we see fit,” said Malinda.

  “Yes, it is ours, but there is a but...”

  Malinda looks at Robert dishearten, “Isn’t there always? We do not get to keep it, right?”

  “Oh no, we’re keeping it all right, the ‘but’ is we have to divide it with the Meetinghouse and the Masonic Lodge.”

  Just as Luke said earlier Matthew jumped in, “Divide it? Father we found it. It ought to belong to us alone.”

  “Now let’s not get greedy. I think roughly five hundred thousand dollars will be enough for you all to buy that ‘yo-yo’ gadget and the ‘hoop de do’ thing, and the dolls, balls, dresses and clothes and...and...anything else your little hearts desire. Now what do you think of that?”

  Malinda and the rest of the family were speechless.

  “We can rebuild Scarlett bigger and better and do all the things we need and want to do. The question remains: how to divide the gold?”

  “Father,” said Mattie Ann, “there is the Meetinghouse and the Masons and us, that’s three, split the gold in to three parts and each gets a part.”

  “Good suggestion Mattie Ann, then the Meetinghouse Elders and the Brothers of the Lodge can split their third as they see fit. Yes, that is the answer – divide the gold three ways, but how to accomplish this?”

  EXPLANATION

  The next morning Robert has assembled the same group of Elders and the same Brothers of the Masonic Lodge underneath the oak in front of the Mill. They think they have been requested to meet to hear Robert tell them where they must send the gold.

  Tipping his hat, “Elder Lindley and friends, Worshipful Master Taylor and Brothers thank you all for coming. I know you are anxious to hear about mine and Luke’s trip to Columbia to return the gold.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Elder Lindley in a somber tone. “Returning the gold...proceed.”

  “Luke and I traveled to Columbia knowing if we send a telegram from our local Western Union office word of the gold would spread like a wildfire through our community. We decided to send a message from the state capital at Columbia to the Department of the Treasury in Washington, D.C. asking them what we were supposed to do with the gold. Well fellows, they thought at first we were trying to send them a ton and a half of gold ore. After assuring them we had approximately a ton and a half of pure gold, I was told they did not want it. They would not take it.”

  The Worshipful Master spoke up, “Well, where are we to send it or what are we to do with it?”

  “Nothing,” answers Robert.

  “Nothing, what does that mean?”

  “It means IT...IS...OURS!” Robert said, slowly speaking the words.

  “Ours, ours to keep?” Said Elder Lindley.

  “Yes, absolutely yes,” Robert said pulling out the telegram and passing it around for all to read, “and here is my proposal, unless you all have a different arrangement. I suggest we load up the bells and headstocks from the Meetinghouse and bring them to the Mill. William you bring the thirty cannonballs from the Lodge as well. We will take the gold inside, put the largest iron pot we can find over the forge fire and melt the bells, headstocks, and cannonballs. We’ll pour the gold in to gold bars and then divide it in to thirds – one for us, one for the Meetinghouse, and one for the Lodge. That’s the fairest way I can determine to do it right. Anyone with another suggestion?”

  Everyone shakes their heads, “Good plan Robert, good plan,” comments the Elder. “We have already removed the bells and headstocks from the belfry; we’ll load them in a couple of wagons and have them down here this afternoon.”

  “Same with us,” said Lonnie. “Just as soon as we can ge
t the cannonballs loaded.”

  “Fine gentlemen, in the meantime I will get the forge fired up and ready. I’ll also get our blacksmith to make some iron molds to pour the gold in for cooling.” Waving as he walked to the Mill, “See you all this afternoon.”

  Two days later stacked in three huge piles are one hundred eighty bars of pure gold, sixty bars to a stack. Each bar weighing in at thirty pounds each. Robert was a tad off in his guessing the gold’s weight. Instead of two thousand five hundred pounds there are five thousand four hundred pounds. At the going rate of thirty dollar per twelve ounces Troy, they have one million nine hundred and forty-four thousand dollars of pure twenty-four karat gold. Split three ways, six hundred and forty-eight thousand dollars each. Each bar was worth ten thousand eight hundred dollars.

  Representatives of the Meetinghouse and the Lodge were on hand bright and early the third morning, and each loaded their wagons with sixty bars or eighteen hundred pounds of gold. The disposition of their individual shares of gold is going to be up to the members of the Meetinghouse and the Brothers of the Lodge.

  Robert and Luke are standing outside the Mill’s large sliding door as the wagons drive away bearing their heavy load of gold. Robert smiles, “Come on Luke, back that wagon up to the door we need to get our gold and get on home. The folks are dying to see it!”

  Luke was standing in the wagon, and the men from the Mill pass the bars along until they get to Robert. Robert hands them to Luke, who is stacking them in the wagon. As each bar of gold passes through the Mill workers hands they are touching a fortune they know they will never have.

  As the last gold bar is passed to Robert, he turns to the workers in the Mill, “Jethro, Rube and Dan’l you all have been faithful and loyal to our family and to the Mill. Without you we could never have gotten it going. Y’all stayed even when there were times when we did not have enough money to pay you. We really appreciate you, and we will never forget what you all did. To say thank you,” Robert stops talking, takes the last two bars of gold and hands them back to Jethro, “Here sell these two bars of gold. You, Rube and Dan’l divide one of them and split the other with the workers of the mill.”

  The other workmen gathered around Jethro sticking out their old, black, dirty hands to touch the shiny gold bars. “Well, I do declare!” Jethro said holding the two gold bars up into the air. “Youse mean these here two bars of gold be ours, all ours?”

  You all deserve it.” Laughed Robert adding, “Don’t spend it all in one place now, you hear.”

  Back up on the wagon seat Robert says to Luke, “Let’s go home, but stop at the bank first. There’s something I need to do.”

  Luke ties the mules to the hitching post in front of the Scarlettsville National Bank. Robert slides a bar of gold into a burlap sack and enters the bank building. Asking the first teller he came to, “May I see the bank’s president?”

  Opening the president’s door Robert exchanged pleasantries and begins, “Mr. Scott I wish to borrow ten thousand dollars from your bank. What is the interest rate?”

  “Uh, three per cent Mr. Scarburg, but ten thousand dollars! Sir, Scarlett’s main house has burnt to the ground. It is worthless, and it will be worthless for a couple of years more, before you will get out a paying crop. You are recently returned from the Army, I don’t believe that Confederate Army suit of yours has much value now, and none of the rest of your family has anything of value to back up this loan, I assume. Besides, this would be the largest loan our bank has ever taken. No sir, no sir’ree bob, can’t do it! Won’t do it!”

  “You reckon this would be sufficient collateral to cover that loan,” Robert said flopping the heavy burlap sack down on his desk with a thud? Mr. Scott slowly pulls apart the opening to the bag, peers inside, pauses, “Oh my!” Looking once again, he pulls the gold bar from the sack, looks at Robert, “Yes Sir, Mr. Scarburg, I believe this will more than cover your ten thousand loan! My, oh my, how much does this bar weigh Mr. Scarburg?” He said emphasizing the Mister in his address to Robert.

  “Just thirty pounds Mr. Scott! That’s all!”

  Opening the bank’s large safe Mr. Scott asked, “Ten thousand dollars is a lot of money Mr. Scarburg, what do you intend to do with such a large amount of cash?”

  “A number of things Mr. Scott, but right now I’m going to get started rebuilding Scarlett, and there’s a manufacturing company I want to help out up in Pennsylvania. And there might be a few other things I need to buy like a ‘yo-yo’ thingy, a ‘hoop-de-hoop’, some balls, marbles, and dolls!”

  One would have to be blind not to see the look of amazement on Mr. Scott’s face.

  Stepping back upon the wagon, Robert tells Luke to stop at the lumberyard. Robert jumps from the wagon goes into the yard’s office and returns in a few minutes. “What was that all about Father?”

  “Tomorrow their workmen will begin rebuilding Scarlett. I want it returned to its previous glory. No, even better.”

  “So you’re going to supervise the rebuilding of Scarlett, huh?”

  “In a while, maybe, but Son right now I want you, Nate and me to make a little trip to our farm in Alabama. Will you go with me? I have already asked Nate, and he is willing to go.”

  “Well, yes of course Father, if you want, but why would we want to go back down there, we no longer own the farm.”

  “You, Nate and I have to take care of some unfinished business.”

  Back at the carriage house the women are preparing supper as Robert and Luke return. Robert is carrying a rather large burlap sack. Standing at the kitchen table, Malinda asked what was in the sack? Walking over to the table Robert empties its contents all over the tabletop, hundreds and hundreds of five, ten, twenty and hundred-dollar bills fall from the sack upon the table. Grabbing a handful he pitches them into the air, “This is what is in the sack Mother, and there’s plenty more where these came from.”

  The women could not believe their eyes; money was flying everywhere, on the table, on the floor, and even in the stew they were having for supper. “Robert Scarburg have you gone crazy,” Malinda said going around the room snatching up the money. “If you had to realize what Sary and I had to go through just for one of these bills during the War you would be ashamed. Why in one minute I can pick up enough money to pay the taxes on our farm for years. For years, I say! If Sary and I had just a small portion of this money, we could have kept that scoundrel Louie Labeau from taking our farm away.”

  “Speaking of the farm Malinda Luke, Nate and I have decided to make a little trip back to Alabama.”

  “Back! I can’t for the life of me think why you would do such a thing!”

  “I need to repay Doctor Crawford for the money he let you have during my absence and to thank him personally for the care he gave my family while I was gone. Nate wants to visit his Pa and brother’s graves too.”

  “Oh, Robert the few dollars that Doc Crawford gave us was a gift. He did not expect any repay, and Uncle Jed and Jefferson are resting peacefully underneath that red oak at the edge of the yard along with our little darling Margaret.”

  “No, no! I will not let any debt of mine go unpaid! You forget, Nate has never seen the burial place of his Pa and brother.”

  “Wait! Wait just a minute Robert Scarburg, you’re not going back only to repay Doc and to let Nate see those graves, you are going after Louie Labeau! I know you! Tell me I’m wrong! Robert that man is dangerous and mean; he will kill you and probably Luke and Nate too. Please, I beg you, don’t go. I prayed to God to bring retribution upon that man long ago for what he did to our family, but since you, Luke and Matthew have returned home from the War God has softened my heart. I do not think of Labeau any longer. I cannot lose you, Luke and Nate now.”

  “I have to settle accounts...use this money as y’all will. Sary and Ora Lee I have fixed you up with an account at the bank as well, you can draw money from it whenever you need. Malinda there is an account for Elsa and Nate, Jr. too. Mark, Matthew, Kim and Ke
lly have been taken care of also.”

  “I see you have your mind made up, so there isn’t any need for me to try and change it. When are you leaving?”

  “Luke, Nate and I are saddling up first thing in the morning. Don’t worry we’ll be back in a few weeks, a month at the most. I’m sorry Malinda, sometimes, as you have always said: a man has to do what a man has to do. Oh, I almost forgot; tomorrow the workers will arrive to begin cleaning up and start rebuilding Scarlett. Anything, and everything you want just let Kerman Whitaker the superintendent of the building project know. Build it as glorious and as beautiful as you can image, but one important thing – I want a crew of his to burn all those slave quarters out behind the main house. After the cleanup, I want good, clean houses built for our workers. Workers we will hire to run Scarlett when I return.”

  The next morning as Robert, Nate and Luke have their horses loaded and carry a spare loaded down with supplies. They mount and are about to say their goodbyes when Malinda walks from the porch into the yard.

  “In a terrible dream, I had last night I saw a tragedy befall you my Darling. The dream was about you, Luke, Nate and Louie Labeau, but I will not describe the particulars, other than to say it concerned handguns and our old farm. I just feel our happy days here at Scarlett are finished. I’m sorry Robert, but when you and the boys left to go to war, I always believed in my heart you would come back.

  Last night my dream showed you, Luke and Nate confronting Labeau, and I saw him pull his gun. I saw blood running on the ground. I tried this morning not to dwell on it, but it bears heavy on my soul; the sadness is almost unbearable. I prayed to God I would not be consigned to live out the rest of my life without you, but alas, if my dream comes true, your fate is sealed, all I can say is ‘Goodbye my Love’... forever.”

  BACK IN ALABAMA

  A couple of weeks later they approach the outskirts of the town of Albertville. “First stop,” said Robert, “is the postal office.”

  Opening the door Robert walks over to the counter. The clerk looks up from his duties and asks if he can help. Robert replies, “You work here by yourself?”

  “Yes ’er,” the clerk answers, “we ain’t the size town where the postal office is a very busy place.”

  “How long have you been working here? Were you working here during the War?”

  “Well sir, let me think, going on about ten years I reckon, and yeah, I was here during our recent terrible ordeal.”

  Hearing that Robert reaches across the counter, grabs the clerk’s shirt with both hands and jerks him across the counter to the wooden floor. The clerk tries to regain his feet, but Robert smashes his face with his fist knocking him to the floor again.

  On his hands and knees, blood dripping from his nose, he raises up one arm, “Now hold on Mister you had no call to go and do that! I ain’t got no money in here.”

  “I’m not robbing you, you idiot,” as another fist drives the clerk to the floor. Half unconscious the man stammers, “Wh...wh...what have I don...don...done to you Mister?”

  “Nothing! You haven’t done anything to me! I’ve never laid eyes on you before in my life,” he says grabbing the man by the hair of his head and landing another solid, skin cutting, punch to his right eye.

  Lying on the floor in his own blood, he barely whispers, “If not you... who have... I done something too?”

  Kicking him in the ribs, Robert replies, “My wife, you low-down sorry excuse for a man...my wife!”

  Moaning and unable to breathe he mutters he doesn’t know Robert’s wife.

  Another swift kick and Robert answers, “Malinda Scarburg, you know her don’t you?”

  Kicking him again the man barely whispers, “Yes...yes, I knew her, but I was only following Louie Labeau’s orders. He had me keep all her letters she tried to post...,” Stopping for a second to catch his breath, “...and no letters was ever delivered to her house.”

  Stepping on the man’s hand Robert spins around grinding his spur in to the clerk’s hand and fingers, “Where? Where are my letters?”

  Now the clerk is beyond talking, he barely raises an arm and with his mangled, blood dripping, index finger points to the letter rack behind the counter. Robert jumps across the counter and notices one cubbyhole filled with letters. The clerk is correct they are all Robert and Malinda’s letters, nearly three years worth.

  Back across the counter he stands over the clerk who is grimacing in pain. Blood has pooled on the floor; he coughs, spitting out a couple of teeth. “I guess the next time you think about holding on to someone’s mail you’ll give it a second thought. In fact, I suggest you find another line of work; you’re not very good at this one. Have a good day,” kicking him one last time he steps over the man’s lifeless body and returns to Luke and Nate waiting outside.

  “What took you so long?”

  “Me and the postal clerk had an enlightening conversation concerning the protocol of mail delivery.”

  “Did youse straighten him out Mister Robert.”

  “Yeah Nate, I believe the young man now sees the error of his ways.”

  Reining their horses around Robert, Luke and Nate head out of town on Rock Springs Road to Doctor Crawford’s place.

  Riding into the yard and up to the hitching post Robert yells, “Doc Crawford...hey Doc, you old coot. It’s Robert Scarburg.”

  The door opens partially and from behind the screen Doc calls out, “Well I’ll be, if it ain’t Robert Scarburg, and riding old Blaze too!”

  Robert, Luke and Nate dismount and Doc settles them into comfortable chairs on the porch while he brings them cool water to drink. After Nate is introduced Doc asks, “What brings you all the way down here Robert? I did not know you had returned from the War. Are you livin’ in your old place in Carolina.”

  “Well, yes and no Doc. We are living at Scarlett for sure, but the main house has long since been burned to the ground by a bunch of army deserters. We are all living in the carriage house.”

  “Tell me Robert, what about Matthew? Did he return from the War, I see here Luke got back okay? And Blaze, I see you are riding her; I recognize that large ‘S’ in the martingale on her chest. There’s not another magnificent animal as she.”

  “Yeah, Matthew got home, but he’s missing one leg. He’s doing well though so is the rest of the family. Malinda says to give you her love, so does the rest of the family.”

  “Fine folks Robert, you’ve got some fine folks, you sure are missed around here. Every time I past the farm I think of you all. After Malinda lost the farm and left to return to Scarlett I never heard word from her, I’m glad she made it okay.”

  “Tell me about the farm Doc. What happened after Malinda left?”

  Doc sat there as though studying what to say, and finally begins explaining how Malinda gave him a Quit Claim deed for the farm, but he did not have enough money to pay the taxes. The county judge, sheriff, and Louie Labeau were all in on the plan to steal Robert’s land.

  Interrupting, Robert asks about Labeau. Doc tells Robert that Labeau’s parents were a Negro prostitute and a Cajun from Louisiana; in fact, he is a half-breed. As the Commander of the Home Guard, he was ruthless and brutal.

  Doc continued. Labeau had set his eyes on getting the farm in foreclosure. Doc Crawford explained since arriving from up north the Carpetbagger Judge Slade raised Labeau to a higher position in the pecking order. Labeau had always been number two as Captain of the Home Guard, but he took orders from the local Union commander Major Hilliard now his orders came directly from the Judge. The Judge supposedly worked for the Major, but upon Slade’s arrival Major Hilliard was suddenly transferred, leaving Judge Slade in charge.

  Explaining further, Doc said Judge Slade had discovered a saltpeter cave on Robert’s property that was worth a fortune and he wanted the property for himself; this didn’t sit too well with Labeau. One day the Judge and Labeau went hunting and for some unknown reason, the Doc said, winking, the Judge was accidently shot
and killed. Later Labeau bought the farm for almost nothing when it came up for auction. Everyone was so terrified of Labeau no one would bid against him.

  “I thank you, Doc, but where is this Labeau feller these days?”

  “Why Robert! He’s living right up there in your farmhouse. Acts like he is still Commander of the Home Guard. Too big for anyone to touch, so I hear.”

  “Well, we’ve got to ride right by the farm on our way back, might just stop in there and say howdy to this Labeau feller.”

  “Now hold on Robert, this ain’t no amateur with which you’ll be dealing. He’s a dyed in the wool, bona-fide killer. He’ll kill you at the drop of a hat.”

  “I’m not aiming to drop my hat Doc. I just want to see him for myself.”

  “Well, if you are set on going up there let me hitch up my buggy, and I’ll ride along with you. He might not be as apt to shoot you with a witness present.”

  “Did you ever think he might shoot the witness too Doc?”

  “Yeah, that thought did kinda run across my mind,” Doc says frowning.

  The three riders and the buggy approach the gate leading up to the Scarburg’s old farmhouse. Robert reins in Blaze and sits with both hands on the saddle horn staring hard up the roadway at the house he and Malinda had built with their sweat and tears.

  “What is it Father? Is something wrong?”

  “No, just wanted one good look at the place, and to remember back when we all arrived in ’52. Come on let’s go see this Labeau fellow. When we get up there, Luke let me do the talking – I know you’re hotheaded and might get Labeau stirred up and agitated too much. You heard what Doc said this man is a killer! Just remember, let me do all the talking.” Spurring their horses as Doc slaps his horse’s flank, they enter the open gate and lope at a slow pace up the road to the house.

  Entering the yard, as the dust settles, they can see a man sitting on the porch. He is leaned back in a straight chair with his boots resting on the porch rail. He sits upright as the three come to a stop.

  Without getting up, Labeau directs his comments to the new strangers, “Welcome to my hacienda Señores. Git off them hosses and come up on my veranda and rest yerselves, I’ll get us a bottle of Tequila.”

  Robert remains mounted, “Sir, I can see by your dress and the manner of your speech you must be from Mexico. I salute you Señor,” tipping the brim of his hat. “I am very pleased you are of Mexican descent and are not of that lowly Negro race. I cannot tolerate the Negroes; the only thing worse than one of those black skinned Devils would be a Cajun. Both races are stupid, lazy, and must have the white men, and, of course, the Mexicans to show them how to do everything. Oh, did I mention cowardly? No? They are cowards too.”

  Luke sits on his horse listening to his father. ‘Why,’ he thought, ‘is Father saying all these terrible, racist things, he doesn’t believe a word of what he is saying, and Nate is sitting right here on his horse.’

  “Oh, I am sorry Señor, there is one other race of people worse than the Negro or the Cajun, that would be a mix of the two – a half-breed! Don’t you agree, my Mexican friend?”

  Labeau had taken Robert’s verbal insults too long. He rises from his chair and moves toward the porch steps. “Wait,” said Robert, “I forgot, a half-breed with a prostitute as a mother would rate right up there too. What you think about that, huh Señor?” Robert says the word Señor sarcastically.

  Labeau takes a couple of steps across the porch, down the steps and into the yard. His spurs rhythmically jingle each time his boots hit the ground. He tosses the remainder of his cigar to the ground. His hand drops slowly to his six-gun strapped to his leg and slips off the leather throng holding the gun in its holster. He is getting ready to make this gringo eat those words. He is ready to ‘slap leather’. “Señor, why would you come to my house and make such insulting remarks? I would like to know who you are Sir before I kill you?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Señor,” Robert said emphasizing Señor again, “I didn’t introduce myself – maybe you have heard of me, I am Robert... Robert Scarburg.” He let the words slowly flow from his lips.

  Stuttering Labeau struggles to speak, “Scar...Scarburg? Are you acquainted with Malinda Scarburg?”

  “Yes, I believe I am – I am her husband! You half-breed, low life, worthless piece of horse dung!”

  With his right foot still in the stirrup Robert begins to dismount from his horse. He swings his left leg over Blaze’s back, but before his foot touches the ground Labeau goes for his six-gun. A loud deafening, gun blast ensues; however, Labeau has not cleared leather, the gunshot comes from behind Robert. Blue smoke trails from Nate’s gun barrel. His Colt was a fraction of a second faster. He has outdrawn Labeau.

  Labeau takes a staggering step forward, buckles to his knees and looks wide-eyed at Nate. With one hand, he grasps his chest, blood flows through his fingers and runs across his hand and drips onto the ground. He looks down at his bloody hand. He cannot imagine he has been outdrawn, he certainly cannot believe he has been shot.

  Spitting a chaw of tobacco toward the gasping Labeau, Nate wipes the juice from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and utters, “That one is fer my Pa and brother Jefferson.”

  Nate, taking pleasure now, fires the finishing shot squarely through Labeau’s hand into the center of his chest, about an inch from the hole the first bullet made. “That one is fer shootin’ my Ma. I said I would get you for killin’ my Pa and brother and shootin’ my Ma, consider yourself got, Mister Louie Labeau Commander of the Home Guard.” Labeau falls with a thud facedown on the ground – dead, his hand still clutching his unfired, Colt .44.

  Walking his horse up to Labeau, he looks down and speaks to Labeau’s lifeless body. “The onliest difference twixt them and you,” Nate said pointing with the barrel of his .44, “theys are properly buried over there in that little cemetery under that oak. Youse is gonna lay right there in the dirt and let the crows and ventures pluck yer eyes out, and what’s left the buzzards and worms will take care of. Good riddance Sir!” Nate slips his smoking .44 back into his holster.

  Robert walks over, nudges Labeau with the toe of his boot, turns and steps over his slowly cooling, dead body. As Robert’s boot slightly grazes Labeau back, his silver spur jingles; he casually looks down and sees Labeau’s blood seeping out of his body and being soaked up in the soft, dry dirt of the yard. He stops and mutters to Labeau, “You’re blood used to run hot thinking of owning my farm, I hope your blood is enjoying the farm now!”

  Robert meets with Doctor Crawford at his buggy. “Doc,” said Robert, “what now?”

  “Robert, as far as the killing of Labeau, I am a well-respected member of this community. My word will not be contested when I tell them Labeau went for his forty-four first, and Nate fired in self-defense.”

  “Thanks, Doc, but the killing of Labeau does not bother me in the least. Killing him was no more than killing a fly. Luke, Nate and I have seen so many dead men one more doesn’t even raise an eyebrow. I am thinking of this farm, what will happen to it now?”

  “I suppose it will go up for public auction in a couple of months.”

  “How much do you think it will sell for Doc?”

  “With the War over and the saltpeter mine never materialized, this place is just a house, barn, and the land. I think two or three thousand dollars should about do it.”

  Robert opened his saddlebag and handed Doc a stack of money. “Here is five-thousand dollars Doc all U.S. greenbacks, when the farm comes up for sale I would like for you to buy it. Any money left over is yours to keep.”

  “Robert when I buy the farm what do you suggest I do with it?”

  “Put the deed to the farm in the name of Nate and Isla Scarburg, and send word to me at Scarlett Plantation. Their farm was destroyed during the war, now they need a good, safe place to live. This farm will make them a perfect home if they want it.”

  Nate could not contain himself, “Mister Robert, is you sayin�
� this big ole farm is gwine to belong to me and Isla?”

  “That’s right Nate, but only if you want it. I can help get the saltpeter mine operating for you, Isla and Nate Junior. Y’all should have a comfortable place to live and a good income from the mine.”

  “Oh, Mister Robert, you don’t have to convince me – I shore do want it! Yes Sir, me, Elsa and Nate Junior wants it.”

  “Doc, I’ll leave it in your hands. Hopefully, sometime in the near future you will have a fine neighbor and a good friend in Nate Scarburg and his beautiful wife, Elsa. Of course,” grinning, “you’ll have to put up with their teenage son Nate Junior, but you survived mine so one more should be a breeze for you. Thank you for all you have already done, and I thank you in advance for your future efforts on mine and Nate’s behave.”

  “No thanks are not necessary,” looking at Nate, “Sir it will be an honor and a privilege to have you and your family as neighbors.”

  “Good,” says Robert looking at Labeau lying sprawled out in the dirt, “let’s mount up and get back to Scarlettsville. There’s nothing more to do here. Nate has already cleaned out the trash.”

  YEARS LATER

  Morning came early this 3rd day of July; the sun has barely appeared in the eastern sky; the cool air of the night is just beginning to be replaced by the hot, dry air of this serene summer morning.

  Standing at Scarlett’s main gate holding hands are Robert and Malinda. His hair is now white as the cotton that once was produced in abundance in Scarlett’s fields. Now he has to gently balance himself on a cane with a handle made of pure Kentucky gold from the Good Luck mine. Malinda, still beautiful as always holds onto him tightly. The years have been good to her. If one did not know, one would think she was twenty years younger. The blonde curls are still there, and he still relishes that whiff of lilac. At their feet, as always, are a couple of Kentuck’s line of pups frolicking about. Scarlett is never without a few of Sam’s Walker coonhounds.

  For years this day always begins at Scarlett’s entrance – it has become a tradition. They meet at the gate to memorialize that July day that happened so many years ago at Gettysburg. They take a moment this early morning to give thanks to God for giving them the privilege to experience this Anniversary Day one more time together.

  They look across the morning mist hugging close to the lily pad covered pond, up the grassy hill to the once again, stunningly beautiful Scarlett Plantation. All indications of the past conflagrations have been removed, no charred ruins, no debris, not even one burnt brick remain, all that ugliness is now gone and in the past. The six, massive, white Greek columns on the front porch gleam in the rays of the rising morning sun. High upon the hill Scarlett is the first to catch the first glimmer of the morn’s sunlight. Those columns and the four red brick chimneys, two on each side that still bookend the main house, are the only remainders of the old Scarlett. Now they are beautiful examples of how elegant the new Scarlett has become. Scarlett a graceful reminder of the old South’s sophistication before the War for Southern Independence.

  However, there is one other feature remaining from the past – the family cemetery. It is peacefully situated off near the edge of the impeccably manicured lawn, near a large oak tree. It has more headstones than before; two of them belong to Uncle Dave and Ora Lee, but otherwise one magnificent stone occupies a prominent place at the very front. It is beautifully engraved simply:

  Sary Scarburg

  A most beloved family member

  Otherwise the family plot is the same except the wooden fence has been replaced by one of wrought iron.

  As Robert and Malinda watch this morning, they can only think – time has passed by too swiftly, where did all the years go? It seems that only yesterday they were young with their children playing underfoot rather than the coonhounds, yet in a way it seems like ages ago. Again they wonder, ‘How did life slip by so fast’?

  Now they are in the autumn of their adventurous life, how much longer will it last? They have no way of knowing, but one thing they realize - when it ends a new adventure will begin. That is the way they have lived their life, that’s what Pappy’s big Bible says, so why should they believe differently now?

  Nate and Isla live happily on the farm in Alabama, Nate Junior joined the Army and is fighting Indians out West somewhere; Luke and Catherine have long ago moved back to Kentucky and operate the highly profitable Good Luck gold mine with William as the mine’s Superintendent, he never got to live the good life in Knoxville; Sam married Kelly and they both live in Rochester, Minnesota where Sam uses his share of the gold money helping Doctor Mayo run his clinic; Matthew, Kim, and Mark have moved to New York and established a manufacturing company providing artificial limbs to the Civil War veterans, most without cost.

  All Robert and Malinda’s children are married and gone. No longer can children’s laughter be heard at Scarlett except on those rare occasions when some of the grandchildren or great-grandchildren come for a visit. Yes, they are all now gone - nothing is left but memories, especially of Sary, their lifelong friend and ‘adopted’ family member, who will be with them in spirit until they both die.

  “Isn’t it truly magnificent and so tranquil and serene Robert?”

  “I do not know if magnificent is a grandiose enough word, my dear, but I love the word tranquil. I remember back to that terrible day on the battlefield at Gettysburg, the day I truly thought I was dying. Tranquility I prayed for, but serenity could not be applied to the action of those days – brave warriors of the South trying to annihilate the gallant warriors of the North. The battle between our two opposing forces was appalling, the noise was unbearable, the fury was indescribable, and in all that carnage I thought I beheld... beheld...”

  “Robert... darling what was it you saw, saw what?”

  Looking deep into her emerald green eyes he softly utters:

  “...I beheld another beast coming up out of the earth, and he had two horns like a lamb, and he spake as a dragon.”

  ###

  Other books by Larry Hunt

  The P.H.O.T.O. –

  The Search (Vol 1)

  (A Scarburg Family Adventure)

  Reviews:

  “Spell-binding novel written by a master craftsman of the English language with a fathomless mind for science fiction, the military, and somewhat of the occult. I could not put the book down till I had consumed it and discovered the truth of the “The P.H.O.T.O”! If you believe in alien technology and the U.S. Government has secrets they do not want known, then this is the novel for you! I do hope that there is a follow on book. Great read and I highly recommend!” Lonnie Joe T.

  “Great first book by new author. Well-developed plot with action packed adventure. A little more military detail than I am familiar with but the details give the reader a vivid picture of what is happening. This is an up and coming author whose craft continues to improve in his following novels. He has an unusual style that is a breath of fresh air from all the authors who use the same style in book after book.”

  The P.H.O.T.O. –

  The Saga Continues (Vol 2)

  (A Scarburg Family Adventure)

  “The Scarburgs escape the confines of the jungles of Southeast Asia and develops and staffs a CIA black-ops facility know only as S.C.A.R. (Studies Concerning Antiquated Records). This top-secret group uses S.C.A.R. to research and explain events in the Earth’s past history that the Aliens help create.”

  21 November 2012 – The Calendar Beckons

  (A Scarburg Family Adventure)

  “This adventure finds the Scarburg family, now working for the S.C.A.R. facility, lead by Captain Robert Scarburg, Jr., traveling to Mexico and Egypt to find and unravel the mysterious message the Aliens left as a warning thousands of years ago – 21 December 2012 and its disastrous consequences.”

  Justification for Killing

  (A Scarburg Family Adventure)

  “This is Larry Hunt’s next chapter in the adventure of the Scarbur
g family... What if it is November 22, 1963 once again, but this time JFK survives his assassination rendezvous with Lee Harvey Oswald. In this exciting, time-traveling, sci-fi adventure the Scarburg family time-travels to Dallas, TX in an attempt to change Earth’s destiny. To change the future they must make sure JFK is assassinated. Yes, they must make sure the President dies!

  Find out what kind of harrowing adventures Captain Scarburg, Forrest, Olive Marie, Bud and Lou must undertake to shift the Earth’s destiny from one Parallel Universe to another.”