Chapter 9

During what had become a Saturday tradition. The four men met once again for their weekly poker game at Bart’s saloon. Pete Quigley and Joshua Anderson were in their reserved seats against the wall. The other two places were occupied by Mayor Dan Coleman and Doctor Stone, the fourth regular member.

The game was a friendly one. Table stakes and a $5.00 limit. Professional gamblers couldn’t be bothered at this level. But if they had been, they would have been surprised at the expertise of the players. All four were experts, and these meetings were more an exercise of ability than financial profit. Cash was considered a way to keep score rather than a path to riches.

While the game was a regular event, and these four players were usually in attendance, from time to time, others had been invited to the game. Normally once or twice. But never on a regular basis. And these players were generally well known to the other four. Strangers were suspect and seldom granted admission.

Today’s game had started in a discussion of the protection racket bandits. The Powell brothers had been released to an Arizona Ranger and his driver. When last seen, they were in a prison wagon rolling slowly out of town. Screaming insults at any and all about their treatment in Pete Quigley’s jail and how their friends would be coming to punish Wilkins.

This had been on Wednesday when Colonel Anderson was dispatching his teams west. On Friday, word came from Flagstaff that the Powell brothers had arrived and in record time been executed. The word was that the townspeople were greatly amused at the pink dresses they arrived in. So amused that they were hung in those same clothes.

Play had been going on for about an hour when a stranger walked into the bar. This immediately attracted the attention of several people. Sheriff Quigley and Colonel Anderson almost simultaneously assessed the risk factors and, based on his appearance and demeanor, had placed the stranger on a non-dangerous but watch level. They remained alert but unalarmed.

Bart, the bartender and owner, looked at the stranger from a different viewpoint. Bart’s interest was purely financial. He evaluated that the stranger probably had more money than he really should. And started thinking of ways to separate him from that wealth.

Maybelle and Julieann, the two ladies that considered Bart’s as their personal hunting ground, also evaluated the stranger’s economic position. They also evaluated his demeanor. Each of them had misjudged in the past, to their painful regret. Along with the Sheriff and the Colonel’s assessment, they didn’t consider him as a threat.

Several other customers also evaluated him. While they didn’t see him as a threat to themselves, they reserved judgment as to the possible danger to Colonel Anderson. They kept him under close observation.

Before Maybelle or Julieann could decide which of them would strike first, the stranger looked around the bar, and his attention zeroed in on the card players. He walked up to the table. Unaware that as he approached, at least four pistols were loosened in their holsters. The stranger was oblivious to the physical danger he was in.

“Colonel Anderson?” he asked.

Joshua looked up at the stranger and answered. “Yes, sir? is there something I can do for you?” those pistols previously mentioned were now half drawn from their holsters.

“Eugene Herrington of the overland stage company, Sir.” he handed a card to the Colonel. While the tension in the room lessened, it didn’t go away completely.

Colonel Anderson reached up with his left hand and took the card. He examined it closely. “Mr. Herrington, what can I do for the regional security director of the Overland Stage Company?” the various watchers of this drama started to relax.

“Well, sir, is there somewhere we could speak in private?”

“No, I think not. Pull up a chair, Mr. Herrington. Do you play poker, perhaps?”

“Not very well, sir. But the subject I need to speak to you about is confidential. I don’t know these other gentlemen. Can they be trusted?”

“Mr. Herrington, you are looking at the Sheriff, Mayor and Physician of this humble town. They are also my friends. I trust them with all but the most sensitive of secrets. At least within reason. No, Pete, I’m not going to tell you what I’m holding.”

Sheriff Quigley grinned. “I already figured it out, Colonel. You’re bluffing, I call.”

Joshua smiled and laid his cards down. “Sorry, Pete, full house.” and started collecting the pot.

The Mayor broke in “Mr. Herrington it’s a $50.00 buy-in. Table stakes and a $5.00 limit.” as Herrington reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet. He pulled several bills from it.

Mayor Coleman spoke up, “You got coins, sir? It’s not that we don’t trust those paper bills. But solid silver and gold speak louder than mere paper.”

“Of course, I hope I have the correct amount,” Herrington said. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a well-worn leather poke. From that, he pulled three double eagles. “Would $60.00 be satisfactory?”