Ante Up by Caroline Lee

Author:Caroline Lee [Lee, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-22T00:00:00+00:00

Millard Caplan ignored his boss’s ranting, because he was used to it.

Well, not ignored. Never completely ignored. Augustus King didn’t tolerate being ignored, so Millard had gotten quite good at listening with only one ear, while the rest of his attention was on the mine foreman’s reports.

With the Bicycle Mine being so large and sitting squarely atop the only silver vein in the area, there really hadn’t been a reason to locate the assayer’s office in town. But Mr. Hoyle had suggested it, oh, ten years ago or so, and miners who couldn’t make it to Helena came to the Black Aces office.

Of course, when Mr. King had taken over the mine, he’d started charging higher rates, and now the miners had all but deserted their little town.

All of them except those in Mr. King’s pay. Who, according to the reports, weren’t pulling out a quarter of what they needed to. Millard had been dreading this for a while; the Bicycle was all played out.

What’s worse, was Mr. King knew it. Millard was sure of it, even though the man didn’t spend as much time with the reports as he oughta. Millard knew that, because he’d doctored those reports on more than one occasion, to shift money from profits to—

Well, it didn’t matter now.

King knew the mine was dying, and had known for a while. That’s why he was courtin’ those investors so hard. That’s why he was leaning on the townspeople for money.

“The gall! The utter gall! I’ve half a mind to telegraph Washington myself! All that campaign money I spread around back in ‘76, and this is how they repay me?”

Money you stole from the people of Black Aces, no doubt.

But Millard knew when to nod. “Mm-hmm.” He pulled his spectacles off to wipe them, then perched them on his nose once more. “The gall.”

“I asked for a Marshal. You know what they sent me? A negro! And they expect me to believe he’s some sort of law officer? His kind don’t know the meaning of the word law-abiding.”

Frowning, Millard looked up from his work. “The US Marshal is here already?”

King whirled, his features twisted in rage. “What in the hell do you think I’ve been talking about? Yes, he’s here. Arrived this morning.” He resumed his pacing, his words matching his livid visage. “I thought my friends in Washington would be helping me, sending a US Marshal to apprehend this vigilante. But there’s no way a negro is going to be able to do a better job than McNelis.”

Surprised at his boss’s anger, if not his vitriol, Millard offered, “McNelis is a fine law officer.”

He was a terrible law officer. Somewhere around McNelis’s second paycheck from King, he’d quit his loyalty to the law, and transferred it to King. The sheriff was a valuable asset for King, but in no way did he give two hoots about the law anymore.

And King, proudly, knew it.

“McNelis couldn’t find his ass with two hands. He’s incompetent, and that’s the way I like him.

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