“That’s why we came.” James replied with a small smile for Amos. “Miss Alice and I, you understand.” He murmured then listened to the rest of Amos’ comments. James’ lips quirked up. “I should be taking notes.” He whipped out the notebook again, then jotted down everything Amos had just told him regarding the mine improvements. “Is there anything else that you think it needs?” James turned his hazel eyes back up at Amos, trailing the other man through the area. He didn’t know much about the mine or what it needed so he made few suggestions about anything but the most obvious. “Alice mentioned that she thought the mine would need new supports to be safe.”
"Oh I reckon so, yes. Gonna need a look at 'em, likely need reenforcin', maybe even replacin' some, but I'll be leavin' thet fer them what knows minin' more'n me. Good yer makin' notes on alla this, be helpful later on, an' give us a good idee what we'll be needin'." Amos was saying.
"Now them buildin's, likely a good cleanin', roofs look ta be in fair shape. Maybe some new shingles here an' there, winda glass, none's broke. Thet's good. Replacements might be hard ta come by, I'm thinkin' but maybe not. Ain't been lookin' fer winda glass lately." Amos liked the young man, though he understood that James was a whole lot different man than he was, or had been, and that was good. This one had a real head on his shoulders.
"Reckon maybe we oughtta be gettin' back an' check on both Speed an' Alice both. I was told he weren't in no real danger of dyin', so thet's good. 'mon, we've done whot ya came fer." He looked to James, "Say, you ever been shootin'? Ya know, at targets, bottles, cans an' the like? We oughtta go plinkin' some. Man oughtta practice ever' now an' then."
James nodded, still making notes on everything that Amos felt needed tending to. “Thank you sir.” He told the older man gravely as he followed in Amos’ wake. James kept his attention evenly split between Amos, the ground under his feet, and the buildings around them. He knew that tripping over his own feet wouldn’t help his reputation as a dandy around the small town. Bad enough he dressed the way he had until today, especially hailing from England rather than being from somewhere closer to Kalispell
When Amos started talking about the windows, James’ face grew thoughtful, “I think it might be wise, that someone come and cover the unbroken windows to keep them that way, don’t you agree?” One of the things he’d come to learn was that getting glass for windows was not easily done. Not this far from a major city like New York or Boston. Not that he’d given much thought to it but now that he was it boggled his mind how thin sheets of glass could be transported so far without shattering en route.
Finishing the last notation, James flipped the notebook closed, slipping it into his pocket alongside the small pencil, then froze at Amos’ unexpected question. “Uh… No…” He answered honestly, then grimaced though he took care to keep his face hidden until he resumed a more neutral expression, though there was a slightly confused gleam in his hazel eyes, “Plinking?” The younger man echoed rather faintly, mind whirling as he tried to figure out what on earth Amos meant by plinking.
"Yep, coverin' 'em would be the smart thing ta do, leastways til we get a man out here ta set on the place." He simply had not thought about covering the windows, and not much about the cost of replacing them, both in time and money.
"Yep, plinkin', target shootin', helps a body get the hang of handlin' a pistol, 'er a rifle." Amos explained. "Set up targets, boards, cans bottles, whatever ya got, an' shot at 'em. Like I said, we oughtta go unravel some cat'ridges. Good way ta pass the time. I figger shootin' ain't real pop'lar where ya hail from, but you an' me, we could slip on outta town later and have us a time, we could."
“It just seems to me that getting replacement glass would be very difficult.” James shrugged as he spoke, only a little sheepishly this time.
Oh…” James managed since this was not something he was all that interested in though he knew enough about how life was out here on the frontier. “That…. That sounds um… great.” He lied trying to keep his smile from fading from his lips as he looked over at Amos. He hoped that this never came to pass since he was almost as nervous about the idea of firing a rifle or a revolver as he did about riding a horse.
"Well, we'll maybe get 'round to it, but what we was sent ta do is done, best we high tail it on back ta town. I take you ain't learned to either ride 'er drive a buggy yet, hard on a growed man ta face up to things he ain't never learned. I had a friend once, English Dave Edmonds." Amos began, "'mon, hop in, I'll tie ma horse on the back and we'll skedaddle." He did as he said he would and climbed on the buggy.
"Well English Dave had no skills fer the west, the way he tells it, none. Seems you folks jest fetch a ride when ya need 'un. Nuthin' wrong in that, so long as ya live where fetchin' a ride is easy. Hup!" He called to the horse who moved out at a trot. "Found him a man what understood his predicament, taught him ta ride, drive a wagon, and ta shoot. Now Dave he had no truck with guns, afreared of 'um he said. Had no int'rest in 'em. But oncet he got started he was hooked. Dern fine shot he was. Yes sir! England Dave Edmonds was as fine a lawman as I ever seen. Shorley was hard though, Dave retired and went on home ta Cheshire, 'er somethin' like thet. West lost 'em a good man."
"So tell me 'bout this law business you was workin' at." The Raven Mine dropped behind them as they drove toward town.
“That makes sense to me.” James said with a grin for the older man, though his hazel eyes were still darkened with concern for Speed. He hoped that Alice had been able to make the journey safely back to Kallispell. He fell into step alongside Amos back to the wagon. When they reached it, he moved to the side he’d sat on before, climbing up to sit on the right side. He looked to see if Amos needed him to hold anything while he got himself settled on the driver’s side, ready to help if he could.
“That’s true enough I suppose.” James told Amos with a faint smile. He caught his breath as the horse responded to Amos’ voice calling out, sending the animal into a trot. He lowered the hand on the outside of the wagon, gripping the seat for dear life. “Very kind of….him.” James said about the man who had helped this English Dave. “He became a constable? Err Lawman.” He amended, doing his best to stay upright and steady in his seat on the jostling wagon. “I’m sure that it did.” He said slowly, hesitantly with a shrug, since he doubted that he would be a constable like this other fellow. He was willing to admit that it was probably a good idea for him to be able to use a firearm, not that he had any real desire to learn.
“I studied English law at university. I was to be a solicitor when I completed my training, but….” He grimaced falling quiet again for a few moments, “Now I work for the surveyor's office.”
"A solicitor? Ya mean a lawyer? That's whot we call 'em over here. Some get a bad reputation, others not so much. To many 'er shysters. Lookin' out fer themselves mostly, but you seem a bright young man, and from yer manner I figger you'd make good solicitor fer them that needs one." Amos was saying as they rode along. The horse settled into an easy trot that would eat up the miles.
"Might oughtta relax, ya know, let yer body ride with the flow, you'll get the hang of it. 'bout like anything else out here, gettin' the hang of it, that's what's important. Learnin' to work with the flow of things an' you'll make out jest fine." Amos assure him. "Yep, you'll catch on ta how this work quick enough,"
With a shrug, “That’s what I’ve been told.” James acknowledged quietly, “But in the British legal systems barristers and solicitors focus on different parts. Barristers argue cases in courts before judges you see.” He told Amos earnestly, flushed a little from Amos’ compliments. “While solicitors handle legal matters outside of court. Wills, contracts, and general legal advice, that sort of thing.” His grip on the seat stayed firm, but some of the nervous tension in his shoulders eased away slightly as they bumped and rattled along back toward Kalispell.
“I might,” James said faintly, a small smile ghosting across his face “If I weren’t afraid that I’d bounce right off the wagon’s seat.” His tone was only half teasing since he was three-quarters right to be so concerned. “The work is interesting enough.” He acknowledged truthfully since his studies had been useful in so far as the legal aspects of his work at the surveyors' office. But he had to admit privately that the differences had kept him on his toes.
"An' here they do alla thet an' then some." Amos agreed, "Gettin' you through the rest'a whot ya need fer yer license shouldn't be much of a problem. Leastways Speed'll see to it you get whot ya need." He smiled, sure that it would happen.
"Now gettin' comfer'ble is the trick with most anything, from walkin' to ridin' on a buggy, 'er a horse, er shootin' any kinda gun, cuz each is different, has a different use. But, they all 'er pretty much the same when it comes ta usin' guns. Aim it and squeeze off yer shot." He explained. "Ain't much to 'em, oh they got a loud report, all got some sortta kick to 'em."
"Now horses, each is differ'nt. Ain't no two alike. But, all kin be rid, thet's fer shore, some are rougher'n others. But jest like people, each got a personality, and they'll show it."Amos looked over at James and said; "We got us some workta do, if yer game."