With no inkling of how to proceed, Peregrin decided a trip to the Bear Paw wouldn’t be amiss. A pint of beer might help him sort through his options. If only he could get some good British ale in this desolate place!
He entered the saloon a few minutes later and looked around. Seeing none of his new friends, he strolled to the bar and ordered a beer. As he waited, he was startled by a heavy hand laid on his shoulder.
He whirled and found himself staring at the chest of a huge man. Craning his neck back, he looked upward into the face of the giant who had accosted him at the Metropolitan Hotel in New York.
“Well now, Walmore, we meet again. Ain’t that sumthin’?”
CHAPTER 29
Millie tapped on David’s door and received a hearty “Come in.” She opened it and peeked inside. Pastor Harden was sitting with David near the window.
“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I just wanted to tell you that I have our train tickets in hand.”
“Well done,” David said.
Mr. Harden stood. “We’ll be sorry to see you go, Mrs. Evans, but I’m glad you’ll be able to get on with what you want to do.”
“Thank you.” Millie wasn’t exactly sure what it was she wanted to do—that seemed to have changed since she arrived in Independence. But now was not the time to discuss it. “Our journey has been enriched by meeting you and Mrs. Harden.”
“Indeed it has,” David said. “I say, Mildred, would you be able to ask the kitchen to send up coffee for Mr. Harden and me?”
Millie smiled. “I’ll fetch it myself, as soon as I drop my things in my room.”
“I hate to see you go to the trouble,” Mr. Harden said.
“I don’t mind.”
“Join us, if you’d like,” David said, smiling at her across the room.
While the prospect was tempting, Millie felt he would be better off to have a last private conversation with the minister. “I have my packing to do, but I’m happy to bring a tray for you.”
She hurried across to her own chamber and left her shawl, hat, and purse on the bed. After smoothing down her hair, she went out again, locked her door, and went along to the back stairs. While she could have gone down the front stairs, this way was more direct, and she’d have no chance of running into that other Englishman on this route.
She puzzled over him again. What was he doing out here? He’d admitted he had no business interests, and he’d mentioned no friends or acquaintances or a further destination. Perhaps she should have accepted his dinner invitation so that she could learn more about him. It really did seem odd that a young, well-to-do Englishman should come to Independence, Missouri. If he wanted to go to the gold fields, wouldn’t a man of means sail to Panama and take the railroad across the isthmus?
Perhaps it would be a good idea to speak to him again and pump him for more information. If David wanted to go down for dinner, they might meet him in the dining room. Or maybe that was what Walmore hoped would happen. She shivered. David had better stay in his room until she learned more about the young man.
As she stepped into the busy kitchen, Mrs. Simmons fixed her with a disapproving frown.
“Millie? Thought you weren’t going to work today.”
“I’m not, but Mr. Stone is entertaining the reverend and would like coffee for him and his guest. I thought I’d save you some trouble and fix it myself.”
“Fine, but you can be sure it will go on his bill.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else, ma’am.” Millie went about preparing the tray, avoiding Mrs. Simmons’s sour gaze. She knew David would prefer tea but had no doubt requested coffee for the minister’s sake. She fixed a pot of tea and a mug of coffee and added a small pitcher of cream and some loaf sugar to the tray.
“I see you have a few muffins left from breakfast. May I add a couple?” she asked the innkeeper’s wife.
“Just leave my Charles one of the apple ones.”
“Certainly.” Millie added two spoons and napkins to the tray and lifted it. The burden would be tricky to carry up the winding back stairs, but she could do it.
A few minutes later, she emerged in the third-floor hallway, puffing a little. She rested the tray on the windowsill at the end of the hall for a minute and caught her breath. She didn’t want to bother David, but perhaps it would be best to put in a casual inquiry now.
She hefted the tray again and went along to his room. At her knock, Mr. Harden opened the door.
“Ah, let me take that for you,” he said.
“Thanks, but I’m fine.” She passed him, walked to the small table beside David’s chair, and lowered the tray, setting the edge on the surface.
David reached over to help her set the dishes off the tray.
“Oh, you fixed me a pot of tea. That was very kind of you, Mildred.”
She smiled. “I thought you might prefer it. And Mrs. Simmons had some muffins left from this morning.”
“Very nice.”
She straightened and set the tray over on his dresser. “I’ll leave you gentlemen, but I wanted to ask you a question first, Mr. Stone.” She still used his surname in front of other people. She wouldn’t want anyone to assume their relationship had become more personal than was seemly.
“Oh? What is it?” David asked as he poured tea into his cup.
“I met a man this morning. He’s a new guest here. And it seemed a bit odd to me—he was at breakfast when I ate, and then he followed me to the train station.”
“What?” David set the teapot down with a clunk. “A man is following you?”
She felt her cheeks warm. “Well, he said he was only out for a walk, but I was moving quite quickly. He asked me to have dinner with him at noon. I turned him down, but—well, I thought—in light of—” She threw a glance Mr. Harden’s way in apology. She didn’t think he knew everything about her past with David, though she’d given him an abbreviated account. “Well, the thing is, he’s English, like you.”
“That does seem odd,” David said thoughtfully. “Did he mention me?”
“No, which I found even odder. Wouldn’t that be the first thing Mr. Simmons would tell another Englishman when he checked in here—that one of his countrymen was staying in the hotel?”
“Perhaps.” David sipped his tea absently, then seemed to recall what he was doing and set it down to add cream. “I don’t suppose he gave his name?”
“Yes, he did. It’s Walmore.”
“Walmore…”
“Do you know anyone by that name?” Mr. Harden asked.
“I don’t think so,” David said. “No, wait. It almost seems that Anne told me something…. Ah yes, that’s it. She said my cousin married a Walmore. Mary, I think. Something like that.”
“Your cousin?” Millie stared at him.
“Might bear looking into,” David said pensively. “Yes, I believe she said my cousin Randolph’s wife was a Walmore. There was a family….” He shook his head. “Not in the top tier of society, but respectable, I’m sure.”
Millie watched him, fascinated. It was as though he’d become a different man, in a different time and place. The type of man who would know in an instant whether or not someone belonged to the highest circles of English society.
He smiled at her. “Perhaps I should make this gentleman’s acquaintance.”
“Or perhaps you should not,” Millie said.
“You’re not thinking—” He paused, eyeing her with speculation. “You are, aren’t you?”
Mr. Harden watched them with obvious interest but said nothing.
“Well, one can’t be too careful,” Millie said.
“Yes, especially if one is prone to accidents.” David nodded, and she was sure he’d reached a decision. “If you’re game, Mildred, you shall go down to dinner without me in an hour. And if this gentleman is about, perhaps you could further your acquaintance with him.”
“What?” Peregrin stared up at the big man, whose leathery face was set in a gruesome s
neer. “I—oh—please—”
During his stammering the giant and another fellow pushed him down the boardwalk and into a secluded alley between a haberdashery and a carriage house.
“Please,” Peregrin said. “Whatever do you want? This is highly irregular.”
“Is it, now?” the giant asked. “Hear that, Teddy? We’re irregulars.”
“Right,” his partner said.
The bigger man grabbed the front of Peregrin’s shirt and twisted it with his fist. “You know what we want, Walmore.”
“Er…do I?” Peregrin blinked and turned his face, owl-like, from one to the other, terrified that they would beat him and unable to think of a reason why they shouldn’t.
The giant shoved him against the wall. “You do. The same thing we wanted in New York. Baxter’s money.”
“Oh.” Peregrin gulped. “I thought you looked familiar, but since we’ve not been introduced—”
“Idiot,” said Teddy.
The giant hit Peregrin, landing a wallop just south of his left eye. He gasped and sagged back against the rough boards behind him.
“I’m Wilkes,” the giant said. “Sorry, but I ain’t got no calling card. So fork over the blunt.”
“The…uh…I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I have what you’re looking for. That’s why I left New York.”
“That warn’t smart,” Teddy said.
Wilkes continued to hold Peregrin by his shirtfront. “You told Baxter you’d get it for him. Now, you give it over, or we’ll have to make you regret it.”
“I already regret it,” Peregrin said, “but I can’t pay the thousand I owe him.”
“It’s twelve hunnerd now,” Teddy growled.
“That’s right,” Wilkes said. “Baxter had to send us out here after you, and that’s expensive. You need to pay up, or it’ll be even more.” He clamped one massive hand around Peregrin’s throat and pushed his head back against the wall.
“I can’t, I tell you,” Peregrin gasped.
“Why not?”
“Lost it.”
“That’s bad.”
“Ask ‘im how much he’s got,” Teddy said, elbowing the giant.
“Yeah,” Wilkes said. “How much you got, Walmore?”
Peregrin was finding it hard to breathe with the man’s huge hand compressing his throat. “Let me go,” he squeaked.
Wilkes released his hold, and Peregrin sucked in a big breath, doubling over and grasping his thighs.
“Don’t get sick on me,” Wilkes growled. “How much you got on you?”
“On me? About thirty dollars.”
“What?” Wilkes grabbed his arm, jerked him upward, and punched him in the stomach. “You better say you got more in the bank, pal.”
When the swirling kaleidoscope faded, Peregrin held his abdomen and tried to think fast. If they knew he had eight hundred in cash, they’d take it all, and he’d have nothing left to work with. “I’ve only got five hundred,” he gasped.
“Awright, let’s go get it,” Wilkes said.
CHAPTER 30
B egging your pardon,” Mr. Harden said. “I don’t want to intrude, but it seems you are suspicious of this Walmore fellow. If I’m able to be of assistance, I’d be happy to serve you.”
Millie eyed him thoughtfully. “What could you do, Pastor?”
“I thought perhaps, since David is going to keep to his room, I could go down to dinner with you.”
“He might not want to talk to me if I’ve another gentleman with me.” Millie looked to David. “What do you think?”
“That’s true,” David said. “Perhaps I should just go and seek him out. Find out if he means to meet me or not.”
“You must safeguard your health,” Millie said, “if only for the journey.”
Mr. Harden’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t think this man would harm Mr. Stone, do you? Is this a matter for the constabulary?”
“Oh, I doubt it,” David said. “It’s just a case of once bit, twice shy where I’m concerned.”
“But still, it might be good to have another person at hand who knows the lay of the land,” Millie said.
“How about this?” The pastor seemed eager to take part in the drama, and Millie listened with growing approval. “I could go home and get my Isabelle to come and eat dinner with me here at the hotel.”
“It might be helpful,” Millie said. “If Mr. Walmore became obnoxious, I could appeal to the Hardens as an excuse to leave his company.”
“Isabelle would love a chance to eat out,” Mr. Harden said, smiling at David.
“All right, but only if you do it at my expense,” David said.
“Oh no, you mustn’t.” The minister flushed.
“Yes, I must. This is purely for my welfare, and I insist on seeing to it. Mildred, would you bring my wallet, please?”
Millie fetched it with alacrity and handed it to David, who took out a dollar bill and held it out to Mr. Harden.
“Please, sir. I will consider it money well spent. Not only will I be sure Mildred has a friend nearby, but also you and your wife, who have been so kind to us both, will have—I hope—a pleasant meal.”
“If you insist,” Mr. Harden said, tucking the money into his waistcoat pocket. “But I must hurry home and inform Isabelle, so that she knows before she has dinner on the table for me.”
“If it’s any inconvenience, do not bother to come back,” Millie said. She didn’t think Isabelle, who was of a sunny temperament, would object, but some women would want to be told in advance of such a venture.
“No fear,” Mr. Harden said. “We shall be in the dining room by a quarter till noon.”
“Excellent,” Millie told him. “I shall go down a little after that. I was hoping to avoid Mr. Walmore for the rest of the day, but now I hope very much that he turns up for dinner.”
Peregrin staggered up the stairs to his room with Wilkes and Teddy right behind him. The only way to get rid of these two was to pay them something. He’d have to be careful and not let them know that he was holding out on them, or they might kill him.
He unlocked his door with shaky hands. The two thugs followed him in, and Teddy shut the door.
“Where is it?” Wilkes asked.
“I’ll get it.”
“No, tell me. I’ll get it.”
Peregrin swallowed. His Adam’s apple hurt, where the giant had squeezed it. He had some cash hidden in the dresser drawer, as well as some in his luggage, besides the bit they’d already taken from his wallet. He hoped he could satisfy them with one stash and keep them from tossing the room looking for more.
“It’s in my valise. There’s a purse under my clothes.”
Teddy pawed through the bag, not seeming to notice how few clothes were in it. Most of them were now in the dresser, but Peregrin studiously avoided looking in the direction of that article of furniture.
“This is only four-fifty,” Teddy whined.
“You said you had five hunnert.” Wilkes came toward him menacingly.
“I thought I did. You got some out of my wallet.”
“Thirty-two dollars and change.”
“Well, that’s it then.” Peregrin tried to smile, but he felt sick to his stomach, and his throat and face hurt.
“You better get the rest,” Wilkes said, towering over him.
“How am I supposed to do that? You’re not leaving me any capital to work with. I can’t even go out and join a poker game tonight.”
“You got friends?”
“Not here.”
“There must be somebody you know.”
“Uh, well…” Peregrin thought of David Stone, but he couldn’t drag him into this. That would alert David to his presence and put the wind up so far as Peregrin’s integrity went. And he couldn’t borrow seven hundred dollars from a man and then do him in, could he? Of course, if the one he borrowed from was dead, he’d be less apt to ask for a repayment of the loan.
Peregrin shook his head. It was all so conf
using and gruesome. Bad enough to plan an accident for an upstanding gentleman, but to use him to repay a gambling debt…That was beyond dishonor. Peregrin knew that he could never again respect himself if he followed through with this.
No, he wouldn’t breathe a word about David if he could possibly get by without. If he could just make these fellows go away, maybe he could escape them and flee. He had no idea where he would go, and they’d taken the bulk of his remaining funds. But he couldn’t stay here.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Peregrin attempted to brush his shirt into smoothness, but it was grimy and creased now. “Why don’t you gentlemen come back tomorrow, and we’ll see if I’ve been successful, what?”
Wilkes looked at his chum questioningly. “What say, Teddy? Shall we give him a few hours to come across?”
“No more’n that. I’m sick of this place. I wanna get back to New York.”
“All right.” Wilkes fixed Peregrin with a malevolent scowl. “You’ve got until three o’clock. We’ll be watching the hotel. Meet us out front with the dough.”
“Dough?” Peregrin frowned. “I say—”
“The money, you numbskull,” Wilkes said.
“Oh. Right. But what if I can’t get it by then?”
“Then we’ll take it out of your hide.”
Teddy smirked. “That’s right, chum. Baxter told us if we couldn’t squeeze the twelve hunnerd out of ya, to do whatever we wanted. So think hard about getting every cent.”
“And don’t even think about running,” Wilkes said, giving his shoulder a little shove. “We’ll be watching you.”
“Right.” In spite of his roiling stomach and throbbing face, Peregrin straightened his coat and tie. He walked to the door and held it open.
As the two men passed him, Wilkes turned back and pointed a finger so close Peregrin could have bitten it. “Three o’clock. Don’t be late.”
Millie went down to the dining room, wearing her best dress. She didn’t like to draw attention to herself, but past experience had shown her that this outfit would impress an English gentleman. Of course, the gown was somewhat the worse for wear now, but she’d kept it mended and fairly stainless. Before donning it, she’d carefully pressed all the wrinkles out of the wide skirt.
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 88