Dakota Trail

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Dakota Trail Page 7

by David R Lewis


  “Everbody out thisaway scairt a the dark?” he asked nobody in particular.

  “Everbody ain’t got the night vision you have,” Marion said.

  “Ain’t nobody got the night vision I have,” Homer said. “Nor the day vision, neither. Them lights is sorta purty, though. I’ll admit that. But all the poles settin’ around with them wires strung up on ‘em shore ain’t terrible attractive. Kindly makes me feel like I’m bein’ fenced in or somethin’. That’s for them telephones an’ such, ain’t it?”

  “Is,” Marion tolt him. “This town is shore enough on the boom. They’s ten thousand folks here nowadays. Mebbe more. From what I hear, a bunch of ‘em has telephones right in their houses an’ such. A feller can set in his own place an’ talk to somebody else clean across town. And then they is all the water that runs through here. Them falls is makin’ that there electricity. I heer’d from the feller where I got my shirts that some folks is wantin’ to do away with them gas streetlights an’ make all of ‘em electric.”

  “I doan know nothin’ about electricity,” Homer said, “but a feller tolt me once that it was some dangerous, an’ that the men that worked with it had to be terrible careful. He said that if a mess a it got aholt of ya, the only difference between you an’ a gone beaver is that you’d be the one that was cooked.”

  Marion grinned.

  “They’s some advantages to progress though,” he said. “Me and Ruben took a ride on rails down through the bidness district and such today in a half size train car pulled by a team a horses.”

  “What?”

  “Yessir,” Marion went on. “The Pettigrew and Tate Sioux Falls Street Railroad. Took us through the bidness area, out not terrible far from the falls, by a couple a colleges and the like, and back through downtown. We stopped an’ got us haircuts, baths and such, and we went in at a little place called Jenson’s where we et dinner. Me and him had whatcha call a ground beef steak meal.”

  “Ground beef steak?” Homer said. “They throw it in the dirt, do they?”

  “You’ll find out in the mornin’,” I said. “They serve some of it for breakfast, too. The recipe for it come from over in Germany.”

  “My Lord,” Homer said. “Here I set in a place with streetlamps, wires strung up on poles everwhere, horses pullin’ a train car through town, folks talkin’ to one another from half a mile apart while they set in they own houses, an’ I doan know what all. We still gonna havta build a campfire out on the trail, are we?”

  “I believe we are,” Marion said.

  We set there for a minute afore Homer spoke up agin.

  “Good to see you boys,” he said.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  We was still jawin’ an’ such when Mister Rafferty come out on the porch with a coffee pot an’ cups. He set ‘em on a three-legged table next to the porch rail.

  “A little libation afore you lads give up the day,” he said. “I have moved your things across the hall from the room you was in. This one has a cot for each of you darlin’ boys an’ will not cost a cent more. I wish ya a fine night an’ a glorious mornin’. Until the morrow, Marshals.”

  We thanked him, an’ he went back inside the house. Homer shook his head.

  “That ol’ boy ain’t terrible common, is he?” he said.

  Marion shook his head.

  “Nossir,” he said, “he ain’t.”

  “What’s a room cost in this place?” Homer went on.

  “I ain’t got no idea,” I said. “Mister Rafferty knowed Marshal Jacklin some an’ liked him quite a bit. He wodden charge us nothin’ to stay here.”

  “Ain’t that somethin’?” Homer said, pourin’ hisself a cup a coffee. “I am gonna drink this here cuppa mud an’ go to the bed, boys. I am some wore down. I doan care much for ridin’ on trains. Makes me tired. If I could find a horse that could cover forty miles ever hour all day long, I believe I’d buy him. I got me a new one, but he ain’t that fast.”

  “Whatcha got?” I asked him.

  “Geldin’,” Homer said. “Kindly long legged an’ liver colored. Makes him look a little skinny. Young, only about five or six year old. About fifteen and a half hands. I ain’t used him a terrible lot, but he’s willin’. Got a soft mouth, pays attention quite a bit, an’ I have took a likin’ to him. He warn’t over happy about gittin’ in a box car an’ fussed at me about it, but after the first train we had to transfer twice, an’ he come right along, just as easy as ya please. I believe he trusts me some.”

  “He doan know ya over well yet,” Marion said, shakin’ his head an’ kindly snortin’.

  “Where did ya put him?” I asked.

  “Same place you boys put yer horses. Over in the livery with that Milner feller. It was the closest to the tracks. I got directions to the local law office, an’ Sheriff Hickman brung me over here. He spoke some high a James Jacklin.”

  “Did to us, too,” Marion said.

  “Well,” Homer went on, gittin’ to his feet, “I had about all a yer company that I can stand. Just lookin’ at the two a you will most likely give me nightmares. Be quiet when you come to bed. If you boys was to make a bunch a noise an’ wake me up, it could go terrible bad for ya.”

  We watched Homer strike off inside, an’ Marion chuckled a little bit.

  “Kinda good to see ol’ Homer agin, ain’t it,” he said.

  “It is,” I said. “I been wonderin’ about his new daughter some.”

  “What about her?”

  “Well, Miz Suzy is about as nice a person as I have ever knowed, an’ she shore noticed what a good man Homer is.”

  Marion smiled.

  “She did,” he said.

  “An’ she’s fair tough, too,” I went on, “keepin’ a goin’ like she done after her husband got kilt an’ such. An’ she knows her own mind an’ ain’t afraid to git after what she wants. After she decided on Homer, she not only set her cap for him, she shook out a loop an’ heeled him with it. He never stood much of a chance.”

  “It was a pleasure to watch,” Marion said. “From the minute it started, I seen that Homer was a gone beaver.”

  “That baby is most likely carryin’ some a her momma’s determination in her. You put that together with what ol’ Homer has brung to the game, an’ if his daughter was to pick up on her momma’s determination an’ her daddy’s tough side, she could grow up to set a whole new standard for the female race.”

  Marion shook his head an’ come to laughin’ a little bit.

  I kept aholt a my grin.

  “This here could be a helluva mess,” I tolt him. “Let’s go on down the road fifteen or sixteen years. That little girl could turn out to be as rough as Laura Bullion or Bell Star. Homer warn’t always a marshal ya know. This is his daughter we’re talkin’ about.”

  “That’s true enough,” Marion said. “He was a fair rounder for a spell afore he changed his ways and come into hisself.”

  “There ya go,” I said. “Now then, think about this. When that baby turns fifteen or sixteen, Little Bill will be comin’ twenty-two or twenty-three. I’m afeared that if the two a them was to git to know one another, she might lead him astray.”

  “By God, Ruben! Sad as it is, you may be onto somethin’. I’m feelin’ sorta nervous. If the daughter is as determined as her mother, ol’ Bill might not stand no chance at all.”

  “I know it,” I said. “I gotta warn Miss Harmony afore this gits outa hand. Mebbe I’ll send her a telegraph in the mornin’.”

  “Yer forgettin’ somethin’, Ruben,” Marion said, lookin’ at me some hard.

  “What?”

  “Homer’s daughter an’ yer daughter is almost the same age. What if the two a them come to be friends or somethin’? What if ya can’t keep ‘em from takin’ to the trail together when they git older?”

  “Lord God, Marion,” I said. “My child is doomed! Little Melody doan stand no chance at all. If this goes down the wrong road, Miss Harmony might jump the gate an’ run off, too. Is the
y no end to my trials?”

  Marion come to laughin’ some. Then he smacked the brim a my hat an’ went inside. I set there grinnin’ for a spell. It was a fine night, is what it was.

  I was the first one up the next mornin’. After I got dressed an’ such, I went out to set on the porch. I was leanin’ back in one a them rockin’ chairs an’ kindly enjoyin’ as much of the sunrise as I could see. It was a little cloudy an’ kindly damp. Mister Rafferty brung out a coffee pot an’ some cups, wished me good fortune, an’ went back inside. Purty soon, Homer come out an’ took a set.

  “Mornin’, Rube,” he said.

  “Back atcha, Homer. Are ya alright?”

  “I’m cravin’ a biscuit,” he tolt me. “If I doan git one purty soon, Lord knows what might happen.”

  “I hate ta put the general population at risk,” I tolt him, “but me an’ Marion is takin’ you over to Jenson’s Café this mornin’ for a ground beefsteak breakfast. You’ll just havta hold on for a spell.”

  Marion come out the door then.

  “Let’s go boys,” he said. “The quicker we get Homer somethin’ to eat, the safer everbody’ll be.”

  He went down the steps an’ headed off at a fair quick pace. Me an’ Homer follerd along.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “How far is this place,” Homer asked me while we hurried to keep up with Marion’s long legs.

  “I doan rightly know,” I said. “We didn’t walk much yesterday. We took the whole ride through town an’ out around the falls and them colleges an’ such, then all the way back an’ past where we started the trip to git over to the place where we et. They call it Jenson’s Café. Some ol’ boy from Germany runs the kitchen or somethin’ like that. The waitress, a young girl by the name a Lucy is who tolt us about the ground beefsteak lunch we et an’ recommended we try the breakfast.”

  “And ya got there in a train car?”

  “A little one. With luck, we may git to ride on it agin today,” I tolt him.

  We warn’t much lucky. We had to walk the whole way. About the time we got there, here come that durn little railcar down the street, ringin’ its bell. Homer grunted at it an’ we went inside.

  The place was some busy with most of the tables an’ all of the bar space took up. Homer seen a empty spot in the front of the room near the far wall an’ we went over that way an’ took a set. Purty soon a nice lookin’ lady come by with coffee an’ cups for us an’ innerduced herself.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said. “My name is Grace. I assume coffee is in order?”

  “It is, Miz Grace,” I tolt her, “plus three a Mister Schmidt’s ground beefsteak breakfasts.”

  She smiled real big.

  “You’ve been here before,” she said.

  “Yes M’am,” I said. “We was in here yesterday afternoon an’ Miss Lucy served us a terrible good meal. The she tolt us about the breakfast, an’ here we are.”

  “Lucy treat you well, did she?” Miz Grace asked me.

  “Yes, M’am,” I said. “She was friendly an’ right nice. Plus she took the time to tell us about Mister Schmidt an’ such. She seemed like a fine young woman.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Miz Grace said. “Lucy is my daughter.”

  “I believe you done a fine job with her, M’am,” I said. “I got a new baby daughter back home. You make house calls, do ya?”

  Miz Grace chuckled an’ grinned real big.

  “I’m afraid not,” she said. “But I can offer you some advice. No matter how much you are prideful of your child, you’ll do well to remember that to almost everybody else on the earth she is only another baby. Just love her, know she isn’t perfect, and don’t expect her to be.”

  “Thank, ya, M’am,” I tolt her. “I doan think I ever heard any advice better’n that.”

  “That’s three ground beefsteak breakfasts, gentlemen,” she said. “Your meals should be on the table in about fifteen minutes. Cream and sugar will be right over for your coffee.”

  “Could we git a biscuit for Homer here, Miz Grace,” Marion asked her. “The poor feller has been growlin’ a little bit. I’m afraid if he has to wait fifteen minutes for somethin’ to eat, he’ll git to chawin’ on the back a one a these chairs or somethin’. It wouldn’t be the first time the lack a biscuits has drove him into gittin’outa hand.”

  “Less than a minute,” she said, and went off.

  Miz Grace was right. In just a little bit come a young fella totin’ cream an’ sugar for us, plus a plate with three biscuits on it.

  “Miz Grace said she shouldn’t play favorites,” he said.

  Marion an’ me grinned at each other. Homer set there with half a biscuit in his left hand, smilin’ at us. He was lookin’ quite a bit like a chipmunk.

  Homer et two a them biscuits afore our breakfast come, then he et one a them ground beef breakfast plates an’ liked it so much, he got another one an et it, too. When time come to leave, he was swole up kindly like a tick.

  “Shouldn’t a et both a them biscuits,” he said as we left the place an’ went on down the way.

  About a block later we run across a saloon an’ Homer decided he needed a little whiskey an’ someplace to set for a spell. I follerd Homer inside with Marion on my heels. He was chucklin’ some. Homer kindly fell into a chair by a table in the corner a the room while me an Marion went to the bar to git our drinks. Marion was grinnin’ quite a bit.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked him.

  “Looks to me like Homer about got cast in his stall,” he said.

  “He et quite a bit,” I said. “For a spell there I was kindly afraid he was gonna founder.”

  “You wait, boy,” Marion said. “He ain’t done yet. You an’ me need to let him digest some a the food he et afore we walk him around too much. If he was to stumble an’ fall, he could explode. It might make a helluva mess.”

  We set in that saloon for a hour or better until Homer got over some a the effects from his indulgence. After he could walk, we went on a stroll, lookin’ in stores an’ shops an’ such. Homer got hisself some more a that sewin’ machine oil for his leg brace, Marion bought a new pair a gloves, his old ones bein’ near wore out, an’ I come across some a them candies that Willie liked so much an’ bought a pound bag of ‘em, not bein’ terrible sure how long we might be on the trail. We purty much et up the whole mornin’ walkin’ around an’ lookin’ in a bunch a stores an such. I steered Homer an’ Marion away from that Notions for Ladies shop. It would have been a pleasure for me to see Miz Darlene agin, but I didn’t want ta give my coffee secret away.

  Early in the afternoon, as we come out of a hardware store, I heard a bell ringin’ an’, shore enough, here come that horse-drawed train car down the rails. We went an’ got on it to take a ride through town, by that electric station out near the falls, an’ them colleges an’ such. About a hour after we got in the car, we come to the street we needed to take our walk back to the roomin’ house, but Homer wodden git up.

  “You boys go ahead on an’ do whatever ya need to,” he said, “but I ain’t done ridin’ yet.”

  Marion looked at me, an’ we both set back down. After a spell, Homer stood up an’ stopped that train car so he could git off. Me an’ Marion got up an’ went with him. About the minute our feet hit the road, Homer took off across the street. It was then I realized that he was headin’ back to Jenson’s Café.

  “Gittin’ near on to supper time,” he said over his shoulder an’ went to steppin’ out some.

  Me an’ Marion follerd along.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  We had another meal a Mister Schmidt’s ground beefsteak, this time the supper version with potaters an’ corn, an’ Homer went after his right smart. He did, however, control hisself an’ et only one a them beefsteaks an’ follered it with a piece a cherry pie. Miss Lucy waited on us an’ jawed a little bit about her momma an’ all afore she had to tend to some other folks. When time come to leave, Marion left her a dollar tip.
I matched it an’ so did Homer, sayin’ that he was lookin’ forward to breakfast the next mornin’.

  We stepped out on the boardwalk. It was coolin’ down some with a nice breeze outa the northwest. The three of us was walkin’ back toward the street to the roomin’ house when Homer looked up an’ down the way.

  “Whiskey,” he said, puttin’ a piece a chaw in his right cheek an’ rollin’ it around a little bit.

  Marion grinned an’ shook his head. “I ain’t got nothin’ agin’ chewin’,” he said. “As a younger man I was knowed to take a chaw myself now an’ then. But I damn shore never cared for it much right after I et.”

  Homer kindly glared at him.

  “By God, Daniels,” he said, “I didn’t come on this journey to listen to some ol’ cob fatmouth my pleasures.”

  “Now Homer,” Marion went on, “Git a grip on your temper. I’m sorry if I happened to offend ya. Please don’t shoot me or nothin’. It’d be a terrible shock to ol’ Ruben here if ya did.”

  “Marion’s right, Homer,” I said. “I’d be took aback for hours. Mebbe even a day or two.”

  We went on the way a little bit with Homer grinnin’ some an’ seen a saloon across the way by the name a the Silver Chandelier. It looked to me to be a bit toney, an’ we could hear a fiddle playin’ inside.

  “Looks like that place might be suitable for my needs,” Homer said, an’ struck off across the street. Me an Marion follerd along.

  We was just gittin’ up on the boardwalk when a purty big fella come outa the place. He was dressed up quite a bit in a black suit a clothes an’ a Derby hat. Behind him come a Chinee girl wearin’ one a them long robes like they do. She was follerin’ close behind him on down the boardwalk when that fella come to a sudden stop. She run into him. He turned around right smart, grabbed the front a her robe, and throwed her down to her back.

 

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