THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER

by Judith B. Glad

  Lulu reported much the same situation, although she'd been told her trade was not welcome at the Bon Appetit, a small tea room catering to the town's more social crowd. Since she'd only gone in the tea room once, with Imajean, she'd been more amused than anything. "As if I'd pay their price for tea not half so good as what I make myself," she'd said, when relating the experience to Tony. She went on to tell him of her meeting on Main Street with Mrs. Axminster, who'd cut her dead. "I liked that far better than having to make a polite response to one of her diatribes."

  The Sunday after Eagleton's return, Tony wrote to the fellow in Boise who'd offered him a job. Lulu laughed at his hesitation. "I doubt very much they've ever heard of the Sagacity River Bridge Disaster. And even if they have, your recommendation from Mr. Eagleton will carry far more weight. Don't you want to move to Boise?"

  "Of course I do. Living there would be the next best thing to being close to Silas and Soomey. Maybe even better, considering Soomey's tendency to boss everyone."

  "Pooh! Soomey and I will get along famously." Her confident grin was more like the Lulu he remembered than anything he'd seen for days. "Although I do admit we'd probably get along better at a distance than in the same town."

  "Soomey a grandmother! I'll bet she's over the moon."

  He wrote the letter, then asked Lulu to type it for him. After he'd mailed it on Monday, he had an instant's indecision. Almost he asked the postal clerk to hand it back. Was he asking for certain rejection?

  Lulu believed in him. He decided he should trust her.

  * * * *

  The letter from Lulu's parents arrived on Wednesday. She could practically feel the excitement spilling out of it. When she'd read it through the first time, she handed it to Tony. "It sounds to me as if Uncle Emmett and Aunt Hattie had to practically tie Mamma down to keep her from boarding the next ship home."

  He read, the smile on his face spreading with each line. "Your father is almost as bad. I'm surprised though. I'd have thought he'd want a grandson."

  "Oh, Pappa's downright silly about little girls. He loves the boys, but he practically dotes on me. If he'd had his way, I'd have been thoroughly spoiled." She thought back to one sentence she'd read. "He's really disappointed he didn't get a chance to walk me down the aisle."

  Tony's mouth twisted. "I'm sorry, Lulu. You deserved a nice wedding."

  She went behind him and leaned over, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Tony, the only time I ever wanted a big wedding was when I was about twelve years old. I never gave it a moment's thought after that, because I wasn't planning to marry. So don't fret, please. What's important is that we... I did come to my senses and marry you."

  She read over his shoulder. "Oh! I missed that the first time. Gabe's coming home with them." She read on. "I wonder why."

  "Maybe he's tired of the spy business." Tony turned the sheet over. "They'll be here the end of May. Will they be in time?"

  "I hope so." She'd been to see Dr. Lewis that afternoon. He'd warned her again that twins often came early, but she didn't think she'd remind Tony of the possibility. He had enough to worry about. Time enough when they were settled in Boise.

  She hadn't a doubt he would be hired, but she hadn't convinced him. He still believed his unwarranted reputation of incompetence had followed him to Idaho.

  I wish I'd hear from Professor Stelzner.

  * * * *

  Tony stopped at the Silver Dollar Bar with Eagleton on Saturday after work. His employer had signed the final sale papers this afternoon and had been in a mood to celebrate, even though the damage resulting from the latest vandalism had reduced the selling price by a considerable sum. "I like to start new things," Eagleton confessed after knocking back his second whisky, "but hate to run them. Besides, I've retained the water rights and ownership of the waterwheel site. Maybe I'll put in that electrical generating plant you tried to sell me on." He slapped Tony's back, causing him to spray whiskey across the bar. "Boy, you ought to be a salesman. You've almost convinced me not to build a steam generator."

  "I hope so." Tony felt his ears burn as the bartender wiped away the mess he'd made. He didn't regret losing the mouthful, though, and had already decided not to drink the rest. He liked beer and bourbon, but hadn't ever acquired a taste for Scotch whisky. "Look, Mr. E, I've got to go home. Lulu's probably wondering why I'm not there for supper."

  "Get on with you, then. I'll see you Monday. We'll sort through the telephone company papers, see what the new owners will need."

  Lulu had already done a preliminary sort at Eagleton's request, but Tony knew the man had to feel as if he'd done it all. "I'll stop by the switchboard tomorrow, make sure all's well." As he crossed the room to the door, he waved at several acquaintances sitting at tables. He didn't wave at Frank Correy, who sat alone near the door. He's usually cheek by jowl with Newell. I wonder where...

  Lulu and Ru Nan sat in a buggy just outside the door. His surprise at seeing them chased the thought from his mind.

  "I was out saying farewell to Imajean Teller," Lulu explained, when he'd mounted the buggy. "And before you scold, yes, I did take a guard. Mr. Yu's cousin, I believe he was. A good-sized fellow with a very long knife at his hip."

  "A knife's not much good against a gun," Tony reminded her.

  "Neither's the shotgun, which I also have, if you don't see who's shooting at you."

  He had to admit she was right.

  "Did you pick up the mail?" she asked when they were underway.

  "I did, and there's a letter from your professor. One from Regina, too. I didn't have time to open them."

  Mrs. Graham's apartment was dark, which was unusual. "She must have gone to her nephew's for supper," Lulu said, "and Xi Xin must be visiting her uncle."

  Tony lifted her down and held her for a moment. She loved the way he always seemed reluctant to remove his arms from around her. When he released her, she smiled up at Ru Nan. "I won't need you tomorrow, but I imagine Mr. Dewitt can find work for you to do."

  "You bet I can. Come to the switchboard and I'll keep you busy."

  Arm in arm, Lulu and Tony walked the short distance to their front door. "I'll miss this place," Lulu said, as he unlocked the door. "It's become home in the last while."

  "A pretty small home, if you ask me. Stay here. I'll light a lamp." He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  Lulu heard a scrape of leather on wood, a scuffle, and a thud, and then she was captured in a hard, painful embrace from behind. Before she could cry out, a rough hand, smelling of horse and coal oil, was clamped over her mouth. Her captor shoved her ahead of him into the house and kicked the door closed behind them.

  The scratch of a match came just before a flare of flame. She squinted at the sudden brightness as a lamp lit the room.

  Two more men stood in her parlor. She recognized the squatty fellow as one of the miners who'd attacked Tony the night of the League meeting. The second was Frank Newell, armed with a holstered pistol on one hip and cavalry saber in his hand. He wore an ugly, triumphant smile. At his feet lay Tony, held there by point of the saber at his throat. A trickle of blood had already found its way to his collar, staining the stiff, starched cotton bright red.

  "Good evening, Mrs. Dewitt."

  She glared, unable to speak past the dirty hand clamped over her mouth. Inside, she was sick with fear, not for herself but for Tony.

  "I understand you're leaving our fair city." He laughed, a soft chuckle, so at odds with the scene before her. "Excuse me. You were planning to leave. I'm afraid I can't allow that."

  "Let her go, you slimy bastard. You've got nothing against her," Tony said.

  The sword point moved infinitesimally. More blood trickled and the red stain on his collar spread. "Shut your mouth, you godless heathen." Newell chuckled again, a gentle sound that frightened Lulu more than his threats. "I have nothing against her? Surely you jest. Does she not carry your spawn? Another like you to threaten the natural supremacy of the white race?
Another liar, another imposter? Another murderer?" His head jerked to the side. "Take her into the bedroom and tie her, Harry. I'll be along when I've dealt with this offal. Alf, you help him."

  Lulu dug in her heels, but she might as well have been on ice, for all the good it did. Her captor merely picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

  She bit, kicked, and screamed, but against the two of them, both brawny men whose muscles had been built in the mines, she was helpless. When they finally had her tied, hand and foot, they were both breathing hard and bleeding from scratches and bites. But she was helpless, which was what mattered.

  However, she wasn't tied as tightly as she should have been, for her pappa had taught her a few tricks before sending her out into the cold, cruel world. Given time and solitude, she was sure she could get her hands free.

  Time was short and she was not alone.

  When called from the parlor, the man Newell had named Alf went out, pulling the door shut. Harry, the squatty man who'd first caught her, settled onto the chair across the room and seemed unable to take his eyes off her.

  She willed him to fall asleep. To go away. To do something so she could slip her hands out of the bonds that hadn't been tied tight enough because she knew how to whimper pathetically while she clenched her fists to make her wrists expand. Unfortunately, she had left the shotgun in the buggy. She hoped Ru Nan would notice it before he turned the buggy in at the livery stable.

  Once Lulu was out of sight, Tony said, "Turn her loose, Newell. She's done you no harm. And her folks are rich. They'll pay well if she's returned to them in good health."

  "Rich? A nigger woman's folks?" Newell's mouth twisted in an ugly sneer. "Oh, yes, I saw it immediately, and it made me sick, that touch of the tarbrush. But I put my revulsion aside and danced with her, was polite to her. Then I went home and washed my hands, like a decent man does after handling filth.

  "You say her people are rich? They probably stole their wealth from some hard-working white man. Just like you yellow slime do, sneaking around and taking advantage of your betters. Cheating and lying, pretending to be good servants, while all the time plotting to take our jobs and our homes, even our cities. Oh, yes, I've seen it, back home, where the damn Yankees have set the niggers up in houses and businesses and whatnot, until they think they're as good as white folks.

  "I don't give a damn if her people are rich. We'll see how they like getting their little girl back when I'm done with her."

  The sword stopped its sharp prodding at Tony's throat and sliced across his chest. It cut through his wool shirt and Union suit and left a stinging line along his lower ribs. He couldn't stop a sharp inhalation.

  He forced himself to relax, to keep his voice even and his tone mild. "Think, man! She's not a nobody. People respect her. She's got powerful friends. Let her go."

  "Shut up! Just shut up! She's your wife. That's all that matters." Newell wiped his hand across his mouth, glanced toward the bedroom door. "Your wife. Yes! What better way! I was going to save her until I'd killed you--slowly, like you deserve--but I think I'll deal with her first. While you watch."

  Before he could order his henchman to bring Lulu out, Tony said, "Wait! First tell me. Why are you doing this? What have I ever done to you?"

  "You killed my father! Killed him without a thought, in the prime of his life." One booted foot lashed out and hit Tony in the short ribs.

  Shit, that hurt! "Newell, I've never killed anyone." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he remembered Newell's accusations last week. "I was absolved of any blame for the bridge collapse," he said, and knew it sounded weak, beseeching.

  "I haven't absolved you!" The words came out in a shout. "He was my father!"

  "I'm sorry," Tony said, meaning the words with every ounce of his being. "I'm sorry for your loss."

  "You'll be a lot sorrier before I'm done with you." He kicked Tony again, then yelled "Alf! Get in here!"

  When the bedroom door opened, Tony strained to catch a glimpse of Lulu. All he saw was the sole of one of her boots.

  He eyed the saber, wondering if he could move quickly enough to avoid being cut in half.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  A RANCH TO LEASE

  For one or more years, to parties that can furnish terms to plow, grow grain, cut hay, and grow vegetables. A good garden of 5 to 10 acres can be increased to 100 acres. A dairy of 20 to 30 cows.

  Also,

  A JOB TO LET

  Of driving railroad ties, logs, wood, cutting logs, wood and railroad ties.

  WANTED,

  To purchase from 100 to 5000 head of cattle.

  ABNER C. EAGLETON.

  Wood River Times - Classified Advertisement

  ~~~

  Gauging his chances, Tony decided they'd never get better. He rolled to his side, wrapped his arms across his ribs and moaned.

  Newell's boot prodded him in the spine. "Shut up. I've done nothing to you yet."

  Tony curled tighter, moaned again. "You've broke me inside. I'm dying! Please--"

  The sword prodded him, then withdrew. "No you're not. I didn't kick you that hard. Sit up!"

  From under slitted eyelids, Tony took stock of Newell's position. He was leaning on the sword, as if on a cane. His face was twisted in an ugly smile.

  "Oh, God, please. Get me a doctor!" Tony writhed, getting his feet in position. "I'm going to--"

  He struck.

  His feet caught Newell's heel, threw him backwards. Before Newell could recover, Tony grabbed the sword and threw it at Alf. A scream told him it had reached its target. But he had no time to check.

  With a quickness Tony hadn't expected, Newell rolled to his feet. He snatched at his pistol. Tony kicked, felt the hard steel of the barrel slice his shin. The shot went into the ceiling, not into him. The hot pain in his leg drove all calm, all discipline from his mind. Rage, such as he'd never experienced, drove him to his feet.

  He closed with Newell, one hand wrapped around a bony wrist, the other scrabbling to catch at Newell's throat. Just as Newell's knee slammed toward his groin, he twisted aside, but not quite far enough. The blow knocked him off balance and he went down, with Newell on top of him.

  "I'll kill you," Newell snarled. Spittle sprayed from his mouth with the words.

  Outweighed, Tony locked his leg around one of Newell's and rolled them both sideways, putting himself on top. Knowing he had only an instant, he put all of his strength into wrenching the gun free. Newell fought him, but Tony had an advantage of leverage. He strained, twisted, and at last felt the wrist break, just as the gun fired again. The blast deafened Tony and burned his cheek. For an instant he thought he'd been shot.

  "Damn you!" Newell gasped. He reared up, throwing Tony from atop him. He crabbed sideways and snatched at the leg of the small table on which Lulu's knitting sat. With a sweep of his arm, he smashed it across Tony's head and shoulders.

  His head ringing, Tony aimed a clumsy kick at Newell, but it had little effect. Newell raised his arm to strike at Tony again with the table. "Harry! Come here!" he yelled.

  Oh, shit! Tony had forgot about the big fellow who'd taken Lulu into the other room. Desperately, knowing he had only seconds, he lunged upwards, catching Newell in the gut with his head. He knew it was a good blow from the sound of air exploding from Newell's lungs.

  Then he had his hands full as Harry came barreling through the door.

  The big man wasn't the fighter Newell had been, but what he lacked in proficiency, he made up for in sheer mass. Tony used all his skill to land blow after blow, but they seemed to have little effect. When one of Harry's ham-like fists connected with the side of his jaw, he saw stars. He managed to get in a few kicks that knocked Harry back, but it was as if the man was made of rubber, for he rebounded immediately.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Newell pushing himself to his feet, and wondered if he was going to win this battle. I must. If I don't, Lulu--

  He picked up the broken ta
ble and used it as a club, shattering it across Harry's skull. While the big man was untangling himself from the splintered table legs, Tony attacked Newell, driving him back against the wall with a flurry of flat-handed blows. Newell got in a couple of brutal punches to Tony's gut, before Tony felled him with a hard kick to the belly. He collapsed against the wall with a breathy grunt.

  As he stepped back, Tony was grabbed from behind, held in an unbreakable bear hug that had his arms clamped to his sides and his feet dangling a foot above the floor.

  * * * *

  As soon as her enormous guard left her alone, Lulu gave one last desperate twist and felt skin tear as she pulled her hand from the loop of rope. She'd been carefully working at her bonds, but had made little headway until the big bruiser's attention had been caught by the sound of battle in the other room. While he'd stared at the closed door, she'd been busy.

  They'd obviously not taken her seriously when they'd bound her. The knots on her ankles yielded to a few tugs, and she was free. She went to the door and peered through. Newell was lying against the wall, gasping for breath. Tony was sparring desperately with the big bruiser, and appeared to be holding his own.

  The squatty man lay against the wall not a yard from her, with Newell's sword stuck in his thigh. He looked as if he'd fainted, for he showed no other wound, and there was practically no blood.

  Newell was getting to his feet when Lulu looked his way again. Although he leaned against the wall for support, Lulu had no doubt he'd attack Tony again as soon as he could. And Tony was still fighting the big man. He wasn't winning.

  Tony kicked at the big man, a leaping kick with one foot after the other. When the man retreated an inch or so, Tony snatched her small knitting table, already missing one leg, and smashed it across his opponent's head, knocking him to his knees. Then he turned back to Newell, who was on his feet again. Tony went at him with a flurry of meaty, open-handed slaps, which he parried, retreating again until the wall was once again at his back. Using it for leverage, he dove at Tony, hands outstretched, fingers clawed. Tony caught one wrist, and used his momentum to swing him around. Newell screamed, yet in the next instant he lunged at Tony. This time Tony stepped out of his way. As he careened past, Tony felled him with a chop to the side of his neck. He fell to the floor, where he sprawled limply.