Read Online West of Washoe by Tim Champlin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tim Champlin
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agitation. “We ain’t got proof yet, but we’re pretty sure Frank Fossett, Avery Tuttle, and Ben Holladay, owner of the Overland Stage Line, are all in on a plot to force Wells, Fargo to sell out their Pioneer Line that runs between here and San Francisco. Holladay has a reputation as a ruthless businessman. It won’t be the first competitor he’s forced to knuckle under. Once he gets the Pioneer Line, he’ll have a complete monopoly of staging from Kansas to Montana, Denver, Salt Lake, and clear to the West Coast.”
“Why would he want that fairly short Wells, Fargo line?”
Rucker shrugged. “Men like Holladay got all the damned money they could ever spend. But rich men never get out of the habit of wanting more. Since the Comstock’s been booming, that Pioneer Line makes a bundle of cash for Wells, Fargo.”
Ross’s head was whirling. When he’d helped Jacob Sturm into the saloon for a meal, hoping to satisfy his curiosity about the man’s sign, he never thought it would lead to inside information about a high-level plot involvinga newspaper editor, a mine owner, and the proprietor of the largest staging company in the country. He tried to let on he was used to hearing things like this every day. “How were they planning to force Wells, Fargo to sell?”
“Rumor has it they’ll just rob the express coaches till the company goes bust. Wells, Fargo guarantees the full amount of any valuables they transport.”
“I see. If all this is known by the miners’ union, why don’t you turn them over to the law?”
“Lack of solid proof, mostly. Been a lot of discussion at the union hall about what we can do. We don’t give a damn about Holladay, but the union’ll do everything it can to come down on crooked, brutal mine owners.”
This was beyond anything Ross needed to be involved in. He was here only to inspect and report. But Tuttle’s false, optimistic report on the Blue Hole to inflate the stock and sale price of the mine would make Ross’s own report look stupid and erroneous.
“These stage runs can’t be protected well enough to save most of the shipments?” Ross asked, thinking of his own experience a few nights before when he’d helped the driver and guard ward off an attack.
“Reckon not, from what I hear. Too many places in the mountains where a stage or wagon can be ambushed. Wells, Fargo’d have to hire a private army to protect them. Hardly worth the cost.”
Ross’s mind was already beginning to work on solving this dilemma. It was really none of his business, but…He thought of Sam Clemens and his potential duel with editor Fossett, and the violence against Martin Scrivener. If he could only somehow get Fossett arrested. In a complex scheme like Rucker had just described, and with a number of hired outlaws involved, there had tobe a few weak links. Ross determined, for the sake of Scrivener and Clemens, to find and exploit one of those links. At worst, he hoped to throw some gravel into the gears of this well-greased plot.
“I might just be able to help out the miners’ union,” Ross said, turning toward the door. “Don’t worry. No one will ever know how I knew all this. Even without proof, sometimes a man can fight fire with fire.”
“I’m obliged to you for helping Jake,” Rucker said, following him to the door.
“Maybe he won’t die in vain,” Ross said, gripping the miner’s hand again.
Chapter Seven
Ross laid down his steel-tipped pen and leaned his elbows on the tiny table in his room at the boarding house. He couldn’t concentrate on drafting this report from his notes while everything he’d heard from miners, Sturm and Rucker, was still churning through his mind. Ross was determined to get a look inside the Blue Hole Mine. The Blue Hole was probably not one of the mines he would have inspected on this trip had it not been for his encounter with the dying miner. He wondered if the other mine owners were aware of the activities of Avery Tuttle. If
“Why would he want that fairly short Wells, Fargo line?”
Rucker shrugged. “Men like Holladay got all the damned money they could ever spend. But rich men never get out of the habit of wanting more. Since the Comstock’s been booming, that Pioneer Line makes a bundle of cash for Wells, Fargo.”
Ross’s head was whirling. When he’d helped Jacob Sturm into the saloon for a meal, hoping to satisfy his curiosity about the man’s sign, he never thought it would lead to inside information about a high-level plot involvinga newspaper editor, a mine owner, and the proprietor of the largest staging company in the country. He tried to let on he was used to hearing things like this every day. “How were they planning to force Wells, Fargo to sell?”
“Rumor has it they’ll just rob the express coaches till the company goes bust. Wells, Fargo guarantees the full amount of any valuables they transport.”
“I see. If all this is known by the miners’ union, why don’t you turn them over to the law?”
“Lack of solid proof, mostly. Been a lot of discussion at the union hall about what we can do. We don’t give a damn about Holladay, but the union’ll do everything it can to come down on crooked, brutal mine owners.”
This was beyond anything Ross needed to be involved in. He was here only to inspect and report. But Tuttle’s false, optimistic report on the Blue Hole to inflate the stock and sale price of the mine would make Ross’s own report look stupid and erroneous.
“These stage runs can’t be protected well enough to save most of the shipments?” Ross asked, thinking of his own experience a few nights before when he’d helped the driver and guard ward off an attack.
“Reckon not, from what I hear. Too many places in the mountains where a stage or wagon can be ambushed. Wells, Fargo’d have to hire a private army to protect them. Hardly worth the cost.”
Ross’s mind was already beginning to work on solving this dilemma. It was really none of his business, but…He thought of Sam Clemens and his potential duel with editor Fossett, and the violence against Martin Scrivener. If he could only somehow get Fossett arrested. In a complex scheme like Rucker had just described, and with a number of hired outlaws involved, there had tobe a few weak links. Ross determined, for the sake of Scrivener and Clemens, to find and exploit one of those links. At worst, he hoped to throw some gravel into the gears of this well-greased plot.
“I might just be able to help out the miners’ union,” Ross said, turning toward the door. “Don’t worry. No one will ever know how I knew all this. Even without proof, sometimes a man can fight fire with fire.”
“I’m obliged to you for helping Jake,” Rucker said, following him to the door.
“Maybe he won’t die in vain,” Ross said, gripping the miner’s hand again.
Chapter Seven
Ross laid down his steel-tipped pen and leaned his elbows on the tiny table in his room at the boarding house. He couldn’t concentrate on drafting this report from his notes while everything he’d heard from miners, Sturm and Rucker, was still churning through his mind. Ross was determined to get a look inside the Blue Hole Mine. The Blue Hole was probably not one of the mines he would have inspected on this trip had it not been for his encounter with the dying miner. He wondered if the other mine owners were aware of the activities of Avery Tuttle. If
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