Taylor’s horse had a fancy saddle with some brass trim. As soon as he could, Emil planned to transfer that saddle to his own horse. After all, Taylor wouldn’t be needing it anymore. He could take the saddle and sell the horse.
He wondered how much the horse would bring. For that matter, how much would the fancy saddle bring? Then, as he thought about it, he decided he would sell not only the horse, but the saddle as well.
The closest town was Mitchell, which was about fifteen miles away. He made it there in an hour and a half.
Tumbling Q Ranch
“Wait a minute,” Peters asked. “You sold all the longhorns and bought Herefords?”
“Yes. That was our arrangement, wasn’t it?”
“How much did you get per head?”
“Two dollars.”
“Two dollars? I could have gotten five dollars! I thought the whole purpose of us putting our herds together was to control the market and get more money?”
“Yes, well, we actually did six dollars per head, but we paid our broker two dollars per head, and our board voted to keep two dollars per head back for capital improvement.”
“The board voted? When did the board vote? I don’t remember any board meeting.”
“As I represent eighty-seven percent of the vote, we didn’t really need a board meeting,” Quentin explained. “I also bought Herefords.”
“How many head of Herefords did you buy?”
“I bought a thousand head at twenty-five dollars per head. In addition, I updated the feeder pens and the barn, and I put in a series of sluices and canals to give us a more dependable water supply,” Quentin said.
“What do you mean, give us a more dependable water supply? Hell, the creek coming through my ranch has all dried up.”
“It isn’t your ranch anymore, remember? You used your ranch to buy into the corporation.”
“Yeah? Well, I want my ranch back. I want out of this corporation.”
“All right. As soon as you pay your share of the debt we have accrued, I’ll sign your ranch back over to you.”
“My share of the debt?” Peters asked, his voice strained. “What is my share of the debt?”
“Mr. Gilmore?” Quentin said. “Would you like to answer Mr. Peters’ question?”
Gilmore consulted his ledger for a moment, did some figuring, then cleared his throat.
“The gross income from the sale of thirty-five hundred longhorns came to twenty thousand, nine hundred and sixteen dollars.”
“All right,” Peters said with a broad smile.
“The cost of shipping came to three thousand, four hundred and eighty-six dollars. The holding pen cost was one thousand, forty dollars and eighty cents. The broker fee was six thousand, nine hundred and seventy-two dollars. Likewise, capital improvement for Tumbling Q Ranch incorporated was also six thousand, nine hundred and seventy-two dollars. That leaves a net profit of one thousand, five hundred twenty-nine dollars and twenty cents. At six percent, your share of that comes to ninety-one dollars and seventy-five cents.”
The smile left Peters’s face and he staggered back a few feet, then sat down, hard, in a chair.
“You mean, all I made from this deal we did was ninety-one dollars?”
“Actually, you have a net loss. Your share of the money we borrowed to buy the Herefords comes to fifteen hundred dollars. Minus the ninety-one dollars and seventy-five cents, that leaves you with an obligation of one thousand, four hundred and eight dollars and twenty-five cents.”
“What?”
“I’m glad you came over, Mr. Peters,” Quentin said. “How soon can I expect that money?”
“I—I don’t have fourteen hundred dollars,” Peters said.
Quentin stared at him for a long, hard moment.
“Well, now,” he said. “That does present you with a problem, doesn’t it? I mean, we all agreed, when we entered into this arrangement, to share in the profit, and to be responsible for the debt, in accordance with our ownership percentage.”
“But there is no profit.”
“Not yet. We are in the process of building now,” Quentin said.
“All right, it looks as if I have no choice but to remain in the corporation,” Peters said.
“Good, good, I was hoping you would decide that. How soon can I expect the money?”
“How soon? How soon does the loan have to be paid back?”
“It was a short-term loan,” Quentin said. “It’s due by the end of the week.”
“By the end of the week?” Peters gasped. “That’s impossible.”
“It was the only way we could get that much money that quickly,” Quentin said.
Peters shook his head. “I would have never agreed to anything like that.”
“Like I said, Mr. Peters, as eighty-seven-percent owner, I didn’t need your agreement. Now, when can I expect the money?”
“I don’t have that much money. Can’t you, personally, carry me for a little while?”
Quentin shook his head. “You do understand, don’t you, that I am obligated for eighty-seven percent of the debt? How much is that, Mr. Gilmore?”
“That is twenty-one thousand, seven hundred and fifty dollars,” Gilmore said.
“I’m sure that you realize that twenty-one thousand dollars is an enormous amount of money. And I have to come up with it by tomorrow. I can’t carry you beyond tomorrow.”
“But what am I going to do?”
“You could sign over your interest in the ranch to me.”
“You mean, just give it to you?”
“You wouldn’t be giving it to me, you would be selling it to me for fifteen hundred dollars. And I will even let you keep the ninety-one dollars that was your share from the sale of the cattle.”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“I’m afraid, Mr. Peters, that you have no choice,” Gilmore said.
“What about the others?”
“Baker and Gillespie? Unfortunately, they found themselves in the same boat as you,” Gilmore said. “They have already sold their interest back to Mr. Quentin. I suggest you do the same.”
“This isn’t right,” Peters said.
“It’s business, Mr. Peters. Business is a risk. Sign here.”
Peters stared at the piece of paper Gilmore pushed in front of him, then, after a long moment, affixed his signature.
“I will get your ninety-one dollars,” Gilmore said.
“No,” Quentin said, holding up his hand. “Mr. Peters has been a good neighbor. I hate it that this has happened to him. Give him one hundred dollars.”
“That’s a very generous offer, Mr. Quentin,” Gilmore said.
“I just wish it could be more,” Quentin replied.
Peters took the one hundred dollars, then left the house without saying another word.
Quentin stepped out onto the front porch to see Peters off. When he went back inside, Gilmore was putting all his papers away. “How do you think it went?” Quentin asked.
“That was the last of them. All the land they pledged to the corporation has now accrued to you, and that means that you own everything but Colby’s land. And, with the redirection of the water that has left him only one small creek, Colby won’t be able to hang on to that much longer.”
Quentin laughed. “I have to hand it to you, Gilmore. Only a lawyer could make stealin’ legal.”
“Oh, but it isn’t stealing, Mr. Quentin,” Gilmore replied. “It is all quite legal. That’s how I earn my fifteen percent.”
Quentin stood at the front window and watched as Gilmore drove away in his surrey. Turning away from the window, Quentin walked back over to the table where Gilmore had left the papers that turned all the other ranches in the valley over to the Tumbling Q Ranch and Cattle Company.
Gilmore had made a point to tell him that it wasn’t stealing. Quentin chuckled at the lawyer’s insistence upon legality. Quentin didn’t mind stealing if that was the only way he could get something. That’s how he got enough money to buy this ranch in the first place.