Free Colorado Sam by Jim Woolard Page B

them miners, the other half gamblers, shysters, and thieves.”
    Â Â  Payne Merchandise was located on the southwest corner of Hunt and Sixth Streets, plumb against the railroad tracks. Painted in white letters three feet high, the name Eldon H. Payne decorated both the Hunt and Sixth Street facades of the enormous, one-story building. Measuring with the naked eye, Nathan estimated Payne Merchandise ran a full half block along both streets, making it half the size of the Tanner Company’s St. Louis establishment.
    Â Â  Charlie Swain reined down Sixth Street. Electric ceiling lights burned inside the Payne establishment, but no human activity was visible through its tall windows. The hands of the wall clock read seven forty-five. 
    Â Â  The Payne stable and carriage barn was attached to the west end of the store. Coal oil lanterns cast yellow pools before the stable’s open doors. Charlie Swain yelled out, got no answer, dismounted, and said, “We’ll have to care for the ponies ourselves. Old Lester’s probably sleeping off a toot somewhere.”
    Â Â  The hanging lanterns lit the first dozen feet of the stable, leaving the balance dim and gloomy. The center runway coursed between a dozen stalls, six to a side.   Charlie took Nathan’s reins. “I’ll unsaddle the nags and keep watch. You best find Mrs. Tanner. Was I you, I’d try the door here on Sixth Street.” 
    Â Â  There was still no sign of human activity inside the Payne store. Nathan found the Sixth Street door standing ajar. When he stepped inside, he heard voices, one of which was ranting and raving. “I’m not listening to anymore with your senseless enthusiasm, Alana. I’m not waiting until something bad befalls me like Lucius. I thought the world of both him and your husband, both as men and as partners. But they’re in the grave and what’s left in their stead is a tired old man, a widowed woman, and a lad still wet all over for all we know. You need to vote with me and take what’s being offered, whether your nephew agrees or not.”
    Â Â  “Papa, shouldn’t you at least wait for Nathan?” a female voice said. 
    Â Â  That had to be Laura Payne speaking. Nathan removed his Stetson and ventured deeper into the store, winding between hay rakes and Schuttler wagons. He discovered the rear of the display area had been walled off, creating an open-air office whose entry was shielded by a wooden partition.
    Â Â  “Quiet, Laura, you shouldn’t be hearing this. I’m sorry Alana brought you with her. We’re not in the middle of some silly dream, girl,” Eldon H. Payne said. “We aren’t strong enough without Seth Tanner to defy the Buckmans. They’re holding the traces now, not us. We should take their greenbacks and be safe from their bullets.”
    Â Â  Nathan stepped around the partition screening the office. First to spot him was the pimply, pasty-skinned clerk perched on a stool behind a slant-topped desk near the entryway. The clerk’s pen froze in mid-air and his loud gasp alerted the others. Alana Birdsong and Laura Payne sat in front of the mammoth desk. The two women turned in their chairs, and Sam, resting on the floor in the corner closest to his aunt, growled his usual welcome. 
    Â Â  Nathan looked behind the mammoth desk. Eldon H. Payne was no runt of a man. His shoulders were broad and his chest deep. While his chin and upper lip were clean-shaven, white muttonchop whiskers covered his sagging jaws. The starched collar of his pleated shirt was stiff and spotless, his black coat unwrinkled. Nathan suspected Eldon H. Payne was a town merchant that seldom graced the saddle of a horse or the seat of a buggy. 
    Â Â  Laura Payne’s pale-eyed father made no attempt to rise from his plush leather chair and greet his new business partner. He sat rigid as a post, his features equally