“So where are we off to?”
“Just another warehouse,” Gus said.
“Not the same one, eh? How many warehouses does Mr. Evans have.”
“Three.”
Will could hear the irritation in the man’s voice. Gus snapped the lines, and the two draft horses pulled forward.
“For someone who’s only been here a little over a year, Mr. Evans has certainly done well for himself. I admire that kind of ability in a man, don’t you?”
Gus said nothing, and Will didn’t press him this time because he saw another curious thing. The bigger of the two men Gus had been talking to was now mounting a large strawberry-roan gelding. Will watched as the man made his way in the opposite direction as they were going. He did his best to act as though he was just gawking around the area so that he could see where the man was headed. He thought about mentioning it since Gus said they were to load another wagon, but Will realized that might draw attention to the fact that he was watching the man.
“I’ve never been down here. At least not since I arrived,” Will said instead. “It’s impressive the way Cheyenne has built up. Seems there are more people coming in every day. Say, did you hear that I’ll be part of the escort bringing the governor to Cheyenne?”
He decided to stir things up a bit. “Not that I can muchstomach the guy. I’d just as soon he’d have died in the war. We have some hard feelings between us. Maybe I’ll get a chance to teach him a lesson while he’s here.”
Gus said nothing, but Will knew he heard every word.
Later that day after Evans sent him home, Will made a roundabout trip to the Vogels’ house. Edward met him at the door and welcomed him in.
“Would you like to stay for supper?” he asked Will.
“No, just wanted to report in and let you know what I learned today, which isn’t much. There are a couple of warehouses, one over between Fifteenth and Sixteenth off O’Neil and the other south of the tracks. Supposedly there’s a third warehouse, but no one said where it was.
“I went with Gus Snyder to pick up a load of stuff at the depot. There were two men who loaded the wagon, but Snyder didn’t introduce me to them or even let me get near them.”
“What’d they look like? Would you know them if you saw them again?”
“I would the first guy. He was a big man—tall, broad shoulders, and a bit of a belly. He wore a beard and had scraggly hair down to the shoulder. Wore a faded felt hat. He rides a strawberry roan with a white face.”
“I know that man. His name is Bigs. Bigs Brixton. He’s hasn’t been in Cheyenne all that long. He’s been in trouble more than once. You know, we could probably use him. He hates to be in jail and will go out of his way to avoid it. I might be able to set up something. Maybe set it up so that he gets in trouble and then bring him into the jail. Of course, if we can wait long enough, Bigs will probably get himself sent there.” Edward grew thoughtful. “It makes sense that he works for Evans. Anytime he gets himself in jail, he doesn’tseem to have any trouble paying his fines and getting back out. And the times he’s been accused of more serious crimes, the witnesses disappear, or new ones come forward to say he wasn’t the man.”
“Yeah, it would make sense if he had a wealthy benefactor.”
An older woman appeared with a pail of water. She gave Edward a nod. “Your supper is on the stove, and the cleanup is done. I’ll be headin’ home now.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Knudson,” Edward said. He looked to Will. “This is the woman I hired to help Marybeth. Her husband, Ollie, owns the livery stable on Fifteenth. Mrs. Knudson, this is Will Porter. He’ll be around a lot, so you might as well get to know him.”
“Mr. Porter,” she said with a nod.
“Glad to meet you, Mrs. Knudson.” Will gave her a smile.
Edward continued. “She made Swedish meatballs and noodles, and they’re really good. I sampled them.” He grinned. “Are you sure you won’t stay?”
Will laughed. “No, I can’t, but invite me another time.”
There was a knock on the front door, and Mrs. Knudson moved toward the stove. “I’ll answer it on my way out.” She poured water into the stove’s reservoir, then put the bucket on the floor. “See you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Knudson.”
“I’ll head out the back,” Will said. “No sense in making my presence too well-known.”
“Why, hello, Miss Evans,” the men heard Mrs. Knudson say. “Mr. Vogel is in the kitchen.”
“I just brought a few things by to drop off,” Laura replied.
Edward and Will both headed for the front room. Edward chuckled as they tried to go through the arched entryway at the same time.
