“Um, yes, sir,” he said, sitting down. “What kind of questions?”
“Like where the hell you been for the past three months?” Burkett asked. “It shouldn’t have taken you this long to get here from Chicago.”
“Well, sir,” Cord said, helping himself to the food on the table, “there were matters which had to be put to rest before I could leave Chicago. I had business dealings there which had to be transferred, and then there was the matter of my fiancée, Abigail. She was not very happy about my coming out here, but when I explained to her the possibilities—” “You told her what you were coming out here to look for?” Burkett said, exploding. “I thought I made it clear in my letter that no one was to know—”
“No, no, Mr. Burkett,” Cord was quick to say, “I did not tell her exactly what I was coming out to do, but I did tell her that very soon I would have the money to send for her—”
“All right, all right,” Burkett said, “I don’t want to hearabout your goddamned woman. Just eat your breakfast and we’ll get started.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you?” Burkett said to his son.
“Yes, Pa?”
“You were at Louise’s last night, weren’t you? Causing a ruckus.”
“Aw, Pa, we was just havin’ some fun—”
“Never mind,” Burkett said. “At your age you should be thinking less about fun and more about business.”
“The business is yours, Pa, not mine.”
“But it will be yours someday, God damn it!” Burkett said, slamming his hand down hard on the table. “I wish you’d stop getting drunk all the time—”
“I don’t get drunk all the time—”
“I heard those bouncers at Louise’s would have taken your head off if some fella hadn’t helped you out.”
“And it would have been your fault.”
“My fault?”
“Sure, they work for you, don’t they?” John Burkett said. “I mean, you own Louise’s, don’t you?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Never mind where. You bought it and instructed her to keep me out. Why’d you do that?”
“Son,” Burkett said, “if you want a woman I’ll get you a woman. But if you keep mixing with those kind of women you’re gonna end up with some goddamned disease or other. You want a wife, I’ll get you one, but—”
“I’ll get my own women, thank you,” John said. “Jesus, Pa, I don’t want you giving me everything.”
“Then how do you expect to get it?” Lincoln Burkett demanded. “You don’t do a lick of work!”
John was about to answer when Chuck Conners entered the room.
“Chuck,” Burkett said, “come and fall to and have somebreakfast. Meet Jason Cord, the geologist I sent for from the east.”
“Mr. Cord.”
“Cord, Conners is my foreman. You’ll be taking orders from him as well as from me.”
“Very good, sir.”
As an afterthought Lincoln Burkett added, “And from my son.”
John Burkett looked at his father in surprise.
“Your orders will come from one of the three of us and no one else. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Mr. Burkett.”
“Johnny,” Burkett said, “after dinner you and Chuck take Mr. Cord out and show him what we found. All right?”
“Sure, Pa,” John Burkett said, “sure.”
Sam knew the land that had been his father’s very well. The land didn’t change, and after all these years he still knew where everything was. For what he was looking for, he chose to check the streams and water holes that were on Burkett’s land.
He rode the streams, dismounting every so often to stick his hand in the water and bring up some of the bottom. He was riding along the edge of a wide stream when he noticed something he hadn’t noticed elsewhere: the soil here seemed blacker, and deeper, than in other places. He dismounted, grounded his horse’s reins, and hunkered down on his heels.
He stuck his hand into the soil, which was like black mud, and lifted it to his nose. He sniffed it, then touched it to his lips so he could taste it. He rubbed it between his fingers and then between his palms and then fell deep into thought.
He stayed that way until he heard the sound of approaching horses. There was a stand of Joshua trees nearby, and he grabbed up his horse’s reins and walked him over to it. He had just secreted himself there when he saw three riders coming from the other side of the stream. He had seen John Burkett around town a few times and recognized him. The same went to Chuck Conners, Burkett’s foreman. The other man he didn’t know, but from the way he was dressed and the way he sat his horse, it wasn’t hard to peg him for an Easterner. He was probably the geologist Burkett had sent for.
Sam stood right next to his horse, keeping his hand on the animal’s nose, wanting to keep him as quiet as possible until the three men had passed. They weren’t passing, however. Instead they stopped several yards further down the stream from where he had stopped. That was good; they wouldn’t notice his horse’s tracks.
He watched as all three men dismounted. The geologist was the only one who hunkered down and examined the mud the way he had, but the man went further: he had some supplies and tools with him, and he was apparently going to run some tests.
Sam watched with great interest as the minutes passed and finally, after an hour or so, the geologist was apparently ready to leave. Sam watched the man take some samples of the mud and then all three men mounted up and rode off.
Sam walked his horse back down to the stream, over to where the geologist had been.
Suddenly, Sam was convinced that there was no gold here, but that there was something here that was almost as valuable.
He mounted up and headed back to town. He had a lot to tell his brothers.
Evan was beginning to think he’d made a mistake.
Although he knew the land almost as well as Sam, he didn’t quite know what Sam would be looking for, or where. The ranch was large enough that they could ride around all day and never run into one another.
And then, of course, you could always run into someone just by accident.
When Evan saw the three riders approaching him he recognized two of them immediately. He could have turned and rode off, but he decided to brazen it out. For one thing, the third rider didn’t look like he’d be any harm to anyone, and Evan doubted if there would be any violence.
As the three reached him they reined in.
“What are you doing here, fella?” Chuck Conners asked.
“Just riding around.”
“You’re on private property, you know.”
“I know,” Evan said, “but I’m not harming anything.”
“That don’t make no never mind, mister,” John Burkett said. “I’d advise you to ride out of here right now, hear?”
“I hear you, boy.”
John Burkett didn’t seem to like being called “boy” anymore than Jubal McCall did.
“Mister, I don’t know who you are—”
“The name’s McCall.”
“McCall?” Burkett said.
“Now I remember you,” Conners said. “You’re Evan McCall.”
“That’s right.”
“I didn’t recognize you without your fancy gambler’s suit.”
Before leaving town Evan had gone to his room to change from his dark suit into something more suitable for riding.
“What are you doing out here, McCall?”
“Just riding around, thinking back,” Evan said, feigning interest in his surroundings. “You know, bringing back some memories.”
“Look,” Burkett said, “this land may have been yours once, but now it’s mine—my father’s and mine'and you don’t belong here. I told you once and I’ll tell you again. Haul ass!”