"And to you, Miss Wigfall, Jemima. And yes indeed there is something not quite right, heir to the Orr estate or not. But you have a pleasant rest of your day, and enjoy the mans attentiveness while you have it."

Jemima wrinkled her nose at the last part and gave a non-committal grunt.

He placed his top hat on his head as he stepped outside, then turned. "And should you have any new information concerning our Mister Reeve, I would enjoy hearing it. Not to worry, Mister Pettigrew's  mention in the paper will not reflect what was said her today."

She gave him a nod. She didn't care too much what Mr McVey printed about her boss, as long as it didn't materially affect her job. But talking to someone about her suspicions who was actually interested in what she had to say was an appealing concept to the usually ignored drudge.

"I'll let you know what I hear. I'm wide awake." she assured him.

Well, he had sat reminiscing long enough, though he was looking forward to any more information Miss Wigfall could provide about the dashing Mister Reeve, and that brought to mind a wire to his colleague, James Wright at The Montanian newspaper, in Virginia City. If anyone would know who and what this Reeve character was, it would be James, unless of course it was the law in town. A stop by the telegraph office was in order.

The interview with Cole Latham could wait, besides it would be like taking to Elias Steelgrave and that was not a joyous prospect, and the longer it could be delayed, the better. Yes, a wire to James Wright might just shed a good deal of light on why Reeve was prodding Pettigrew, what was in it for him, because there was something to gain.

His stride picked up and he traveled the boardwalk toward the telegraph office. He greeted, and was greeted by the people he passed, tipping his hat as he moved along, relishing the fact that not everyone in town despised him as some did. Those loyal to the Orr and Latham types, but for the moment they were in the minority.

He opened the office door and stepped inside, "Good day, Mister Wigfall, I'd like to send a wire."

It was pretty quiet in the telegraph office. Hector had just finished sending off Lieutenant Greene's latest weather readings to Washington: they were usually his toughest job of the week because they were just meaningless letters and numbers, a little like the odd times he'd had to send off messages in cypher for Colonel MacKenzie. It was easy to keep a sentence, even a staccato one, in your head to translate into Morse, but hard to do something meaningless. 

He'd just got off the last set of numbers when Mr. McVey came in. He sometimes leaked news to Mr. McVey so he could get a story printed off before it became common knowledge, although he hadn't been able to resist being the first to blurt out the news of the Custer massacre when he'd gotten that over the wires. He had, rather ludicrously, In retrospect, stumbled into the Stardust and demanded a stiff drink and then gasped out the news to all the drinkers there, almost as if he were a survivor of the battle itself. 

He wondered if the newspaper man had come in to gather any interesting stories that had come in to fill a few columns in tomorrow's Union.

"Howdy, Mr McVey. Slim pickin's today, I'm afraid. Everybody's still just talking about Colorado. It' been a state for a week now, you'd think people'd be bored of it by now."

"Ah yes, Colorado, beat us into the Union." He acknowledged. "Not why I'm here, actually, I like to send a wire down to Virginia City, our Virginia City.

"Need for it to go to Mister James of the Virginia City Montanian newspaper. I'm after some information on a Mister Lewis Cass Reeve of that fair town. He is here, quite the young dandy but I suspect there's more to him that fine clothes and manners." He instructed, then though to add, "Seems to have an interest in Miss Anæsthesia Orr, anyway We best get on with this."

"Ah yes, Colorado, beat us into the Union." He acknowledged. "Not why I'm here, actually, I like to send a wire down to Virginia City, our Virginia City.

"Oh sure!" beamed Hector excitedly "We can wire direct to there now, no need to route through Helena!" Hector always got quite excited about new developments in the Western Union's service or in electro-telegraphy generally.

Maybe that was he had gone wrong with Miriam. After making love with her in the back of her father's butcher store, he should have talked to her about her, about him, about their future together; not described to her the workings of the new teleprinters using the five-bit sequential binary Baudot code. She hadn't even seemed interested in his detailed description of the special five-key keyboard that had been developed along with the system. Huh. Girls!

"Need for it to go to Mister James of the Virginia City Montanian newspaper. I'm after some information on a Mister Lewis Cass Reeve of that fair town. He is here, quite the young dandy but I suspect there's more to him that fine clothes and manners." He instructed, then though to add, "Seems to have an interest in Miss Anæsthesia Orr, anyway We best get on with this."

Hector looked around, even though he knew the two of them were alone in the office. 

"Listen, Mr McVey, I can save you the cost of a telegram, I know all about that feller." he said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Take a seat." He clearly had a lot of details to impart. 

"He was at the reading of Mr Orr's will..." McVey already knew that part from the lad's twin sister "... I thought it was odd how he was left a lot of money and property by Orr an started chatting to the late evening operator at Virginia City. We kinda do that sometimes if the traffic's light. Anyhow, he knew an awful lot about Reeve: said he's a lawyer there and that Reeve was his mother's name, but she was never married, and how Orr used to visit her a lot when he was in the vicinity and, well, someone must've been paying the bills!"

The implication was clear: Hector, or at least his source, was implying that Reeve was Richard Orr's illegitimate son. 

"Now listen, Mr McVey: I know Mr Orr was no saint, and not exactly top of your Christmas List when he was alive, but he was always pretty nice to me and I don't like to speak ill of the dead anyhow. But he was kinda slippery in his business dealings and in his politics. He had to be or he'd have never become Postmaster here under a Republican Governor. But his son's a dyed in the wool copper-headed Democrat: he's basically their political agent in this part of the Territories. And with the next presidential election expected to be so close, well, he's a pretty powerful man for the time being, at least for those who like to hedge their bets."

Phin had taken a seat as directed, and when the information began rolling out he was glad he did. Pad and pencil hard at it to note the important things said, that were not yet for publication, but rather for Phin's personal knowledge.

Orr, the man was dead but certainly not forgotten, even though the reading of the will was a natural part of life for the survivors. Interesting that young Reeve was the bastard child of Richard Orr, but not surprising, and with Virginia City some nearly three hundred miles away from Kalispell, playing around would be quite easy. If a man was so inclined. It seemed Orr was, and Reeve was the result.

"Damned if you don't take all, Hector Wigfall. I haven't heard the term 'Copperhead' since the war. But, being a territory, actually being in a territory just since 'sixty-four, a scant two years, means we don't have a vote. So why is Reeve a political agent out here?" That was confounding, Montana would be of little use in the National elections. 

"Perhaps the idea is to influence the Territorial Elections with an eye to statehood and having the Democrat Party in place when that happens, depending on how the National election goes, of course. Who is it? Tilden and Hayes?"

"Damned if you don't take all, Hector Wigfall. I haven't heard the term 'Copperhead' since the war. But, being a territory, actually being in a territory just since 'sixty-four, a scant two years, means we don't have a vote. So why is Reeve a political agent out here?" That was confounding, Montana would be of little use in the National elections. 

Hector looked a little baffled by McVey's arithmetic, probably just a slip of the tongue, Montana had been a Territory for twelve years, not two. The telegraph operator would have been equally bamboozled by McVey's point about the lack of a vote, but his contact in Virginia City had filled him in on that. 

"Listen..." he said, leaning forward even more and tapping his finger on the table "We do have a vote, it's just that our Representative doesn't have a vote in congress. And Martin Maginnis is a Democrat, even if he did fight for the Union in the war. Sure, his re-election won't affect the overall result, but he's not going to give that position up easily. It might not give him too much influence in Washington, but it gives him a lot of influence 'round here." 

"Reeve reports directly to Maginnis".

"Perhaps the idea is to influence the Territorial Elections with an eye to statehood and having the Democrat Party in place when that happens, depending on how the National election goes, of course. Who is it? Tilden and Hayes?"

"That's right" confirmed the well-informed key-tapper "You know, Arabella Mudd has a picture of Governor Tilden pinned on the wall above her bed and says prayers for him before she goes to sleep every night." he laughed "... er, so my sister tells me!" he added quickly, he didn't want to give the impression he'd ever been in there to see it for himself.

"Reeve reports directly to Maginnis".

"Representative Martin Maginnis, a scoundral to be sure, owned the Red Wing Sentinel at one point. Published the Helena Daily Gazette after the war, oh I know who he is alright. And yes, he is the territory's non-voting representative, I'll grant you that. But what I don't get is what he and this Reeve are trying to achieve. What is it they are really after?" Phin put forward.

"I can see them attempting to wrest control of the territory politically, but to what end? I mean we have no idea when Montana will join the Union. It's still a pipe dream that at some point will become reality I suppose." He mused. "The man has been a bit of everything, and done quite well at most all of it, politician, soldier, publisher, editor and miner to date, but there is an end result they are after, that is what I'd like to know."

"Representative Martin Maginnis, a scoundral to be sure, owned the Red Wing Sentinel at one point. Published the Helena Daily Gazette after the war, oh I know who he is alright. And yes, he is the territory's non-voting representative, I'll grant you that. But what I don't get is what he and this Reeve are trying to achieve. What is it they are really after?" Phin put forward.

Hector shrugged and shook his head, indicating he hadn't a clue. Apart from the gossip he'd passed on, politics was a closed door to him: he couldn't fathom why men got involved in it: sure, it gave some power, temporarily it seemed to him, which maybe they could exploit. But it seemed a precarious game at best. Much better to apply oneself to a good honest trade or, for the more ambitious, try and expand human knowledge and ability in some area and make a living at that along the way. He himself was hoping to do something big in telegraphy one day. 

Mr McVey seemed to find the machinations of the various regional dabblers in politics a fascinating knot to unravel. 

"I can see them attempting to wrest control of the territory politically, but to what end? I mean we have no idea when Montana will join the Union. It's still a pipe dream that at some point will become reality I suppose." He mused. "The man has been a bit of everything, and done quite well at most all of it, politician, soldier, publisher, editor and miner to date, but there is an end result they are after, that is what I'd like to know."

Hector nodded, assuming a look of concerned concentration, but was unable to add much to Mr McVey's store of knowledge. "You could ask Arabella, er, Miss Mudd. She's kinda talkative, and knows more about politics that you'd expect, for a girl. Like I say, though, she's a red-hot Democrat, if she thinks you're pumping her for information... well, even Arabella can keep her mouth shut sometimes."

Ah yes, Arabella, now there's a young lady that makes one scratch their head. Actually, at this point, there's no sense trying to understand what they are doing, or trying to do. But I d appreciate your help with this Reeve business. I guess it's a wait and see situation." Phin supposed.

"Anyway, anything more you can dredge up on this Reeve character, I'd be most grateful to learn, maybe derail whatever his plan is. But, I need to get over to the Municipal Building and see if I can interview the last of the Mayoral Candidates, Cole Latham. If he'll allow it." Then Phin laughed. "Should be an interesting rest of the day!"