Free The Railroad War by Wesley Ellis

land deeds and transfers,” Jessie suggested.
    â€œI imagine you can,” the old man told her. “Like I just told you, they’re tired of listening to me. Even some of my kinfolks think I’m just a bossy old codger. But a minute ago you said something about the cartel being like an octopus. Their other arms have been busy too. They’re not depending on using just the law in this fight.”
    â€œYou mean they’re planning to force the passes?” Ki asked.
    â€œThey might be, Ki. I can’t say for sure,” Tinker replied. “It’s the town I’ve got in mind. I could tell from the way you hushed up Bobby at the table that he didn’t tell all there was to know about that fracas you had at the saloon on the way here.”
    â€œThat was just a brush with a couple of drunken rowdies,” Jessie said. “There were more pleasant things to talk about during dinner.”
    â€œI’ll grant you that. But I’m concerned about what’s been going on at that saloon.”
    â€œWhy? It’s not any different from any other saloon, is it?”
    â€œIt was better than most until a few weeks ago,” the Captain said. “Old John Litzman owned it before that. Everybody called him Dutch John. He was one of the first ones to come to the valley, and he was a good man, ran a nice, clean, orderly saloon where you could go in for a drink or two and meet your friends and talk.” Tinker shook his head sadly. “It’s not like that anymore.”
    â€œYou mean Litzman’s changed?” Jessie asked.
    â€œHe sold out. Didn’t say a word to anybody, just up anchor and left, overnight.”
    â€œDidn’t he tell anyone he was selling out?”
    â€œNot even me, and I sold him the land he built the place on, when the town was just a pup.”
    â€œAre you sure the cartel bought it?”
    â€œLook at it from their side, Jessie,” Tinker said. “They’d need a headquarters in town here. Where could they find one that suited them better?”
    â€œBut you’re not sure?”
    â€œIf I was still a gambling man, like I was when I was young, I’d lay you any amount you’d care to put up that they either offered Dutch John so much money that he couldn’t turn it down, or they threatened to kill him if he didn’t sell to them.”
    Jessie said, “And all the changes have taken place since the new owners took the place over?”
    â€œThey sure have,” Tinker said emphatically. He tugged at his beard thoughtfully, then went on, “You know, Jessie, I used to to be a pretty good rounder when I was a young fellow, just going to sea. I’ve been in all kinds of waterfront dives in most any port you’d care to name, and I can smell a bad one and a crooked one the minute I push through the batwings.”
    â€œYes. I’d imagine you’ve seen just about all kinds,” Jessie agreed. “And Dutch John’s is a bad one now?”
    â€œIt’s got the smell, just in the short time since he left. Dutch never allowed a woman through his door, never had a card game going, and he’d close down about ten o‘clock at night. But as soon as the woman took charge of the place, all that changed.”
    â€œA woman’s running the saloon?” Ki asked.
    â€œShe sure is.” The Captain snorted, a mixture of anger and disgust. “I guess her name’s Cherry, only she’s French ified it and calls herself Cheri.” He exaggerated the pronunciation, stressing the accent on the second syllable.
    â€œI get the idea that the changes she’s made weren’t for the better,” Ki went on.
    Tinker snorted again. “Better! The place is full of the kind of riffraff that gave you trouble. Most of them are plug uglies from God knows where. And that Cherry’s brought in floozies and gambling layouts and she keeps the place open around the