The place had not changed over the winter, perhaps it looked somewhat older, if that was possible, but to Case Steelgrave it was where he felt the best, the freest. It was where the gang would gather in the coming weeks prepared to get back to rustling and making money. It was already into the second week of March, a bit early yet, but before long they would come straggling in, tired broke, and hungry.
When Case had returned to the Kalispell area, he stayed through the winter in a ramshackle building in what once had been his town, Whitefish. It wasn't the best of accommodations, but it was comfortable, and that was all that mattered. He hunted for meat and shared his take with those who were living there of which there were quite a few hardy souls, even some families to go with the loners, both men and women.
But the months had passed and Case decided that it was time to get back to the hideout and set up shop. He had tied up with a man named Roley Woods over the winter. A man on the dodge, a man that would be a welcome addition to the outfit. So, the pair rode out to the place, headed for the back country and the hideout. Of course when they first rode in, it was the tiny ranch house that greeted them and Woods gave Case a look
"This is just a front. Actually, it serves as a lookout where a couple of the boys tend to hang out, to keep an eye on that opening. Usually though, back up there is a man with a rifle." Case explained. "On up around that hill yonder is the main camp. We'll stay there, run out the varmint, get the place ready for the rest of the boys."
Woods was already impressed with the lay of the land, even though he had yet to see what had been built behind that hill. Outlaws most certainly, the dregs of society, but among them were men who could build, and others who could help them get it done. What they had built was better than some hotels.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Case and Rolly Woods were not alone for long, within three days of their arrival at the hideout all of the gang had returned and it was a high time of it. They celebrated for the most part of a day, but there was an ongoing discussion about what the future held for them. Talk of banks, and trains north of them in Canada. Stagelines in both countries, and of course the reliable money maker, rustling. So the celebration was tempered with these discussions.
Case updated the men about the ongoing threat of the always threatened range war between the Evergreen and the Lost Lake ranches, which never seemed to fully developed, though Case was able to say his father was actually pushing to get it started by whatever method that could be drummed up. That would not be any too difficult.
The threat of this war was interesting to the outlaws, what would it actually mean to them
, and just how was it that they could benefit from it. Certainly, there would have to be a winner and a loser, and they had a formidable force that could ride in and take the spoils of the fight without actually taking a side since there would actually be only one side, the Steelgrave side.
Case finally laid down the law, "It is not our fight, this is my father and his men against Shade Thornton, or whoever is running the Lost Lake. If we have any part in this it will be to ride in take what we can and ride out. No matter who the victor is."
Then a smiling face stood, as most men did, leaned a bit to one side, hand on his hip, the other close to his gun, not that he intended to draw, it was just a normal nonthreatening stance. Toole, a man that Casde had come to rely on. A crafty older man that knew the ins and outs of several crimes from rustling to murder and just about everything in between.
"Was that to come to fruition, wall, I figger it'd be a mess to try and get in there and out again with are hair!" He exclaimed. "Hell, that place is a death trap any way you look at it., If it's yer Pa waging this war, his boys won't care who their shootin' at!"
"I had me a good look at thet place when we come back from that place down south. That canyon is plain suicide! We might get in, it's the gettin' back out that'd be fatal!" Boone said. "'Sides, what would be there we'd want? Cows? There's easier pickens all over the valley."
"Depends." Case replied, his voice without emotion, "I agree with what's been said, and no, I can't come up with a good reason to risk that canyon. It was just a thought. Now Last I heard the boys north of the border are ready to take whatever we can deliver, the usual no questions asked. So far as I know, there's no real changes in the valley insofar as heightened security. No influx of men, especially gun hands to protect the herds. So, I reckon we're still in the cattle procurement business 'til something else comes along that's easier."
That drew a laugh from the men. "Enjoy boys we go back to work real soon." Case said, then moved off to one of the tables to consider what might be first. Roly Woods stepped up to the table.
"Quite the gang, boss, quite the gang." And then he walked away, Case smile, he was right.
They wasted no time getting back to work, work was cattle, cattle was money. Even on the snowy ground, they hit spreads that were more free-range than fenced, those would be the easiest to pilfer cows and not have a fight on their hands. Realizing there were only so many that could be taken easily. Of course snowy ground was sparse, and the rain was washing it and their hoof prints away, so for the time being it was easy pickin's.
Case had no illusions about the rustling. Sooner or later the small ranchers would organize, and then there would be a real war on their hands as a Cattleman's Association would have an army of men to challenge the rustlers. It also meant more wire, and cutting wire had worked before, but wouldn't for long.
The ranchers would be able to bring in more men, and more men meant more guns, and that meant problems for the outlaws, which meant they would need something new to occupy their time. Case was already formulating a plan, hopefully, one that would keep his gang in money, or there would be no gang!
The gang had been together less than a month and things were going well. they continued where they left off, rustling from the local herds, but in all honesty, that was just not enough cattle to be profitable. And the idea of local banks was not anything they wanted to get into. And there weren't that many to pick on that would not draw a posse down on them,
Case was not a happy man looking at what the area had to offer them. They had a great hideout, that was true, but slim, pickings in so far as cattle rustling or horse stealing were concerned. Though there were reports that there were some Morgan Horses up to the Rockin' P Ranch, Deputy Pike's newly staked-out spread. That and another small herd of near eight hundred head. Hardly worth trying to cut out a handful, but the Morgan Horses. They would fetch a king's ransom north of the border. And that was something to think on. The only drawback to the whole thing was Deputy Pike and his fifteen riders. That was a posse in its own right!
Case sat back giving the idea some thought. It was possible. There was a way in if he remembered the area right. He needed to find out where the hose and the outbuildings were. Where the Morgans were kept, and what kind of guards were on hand of a given night, they certainly weren't going to try anything in the light of day, that was for sure. But the lure of those Morgans was strong.
If the valley exploded into a range war things would be a sight different than if that thing never materialized. And at that very moment, Case Steelgrave doubted there would ever be the needed hostilities in the Flathead Valley. A hot war that could drag in the smaller spreads would be ideal for a bold attack on any ranch other than the two in question. He could hit Pike's place with all his men for those horses! but, not without the range war.
The Valley had changed, not a lot, not so anyone would notice really, but it had changed. It had been over a year since that sweet deal, White Fish, burned to a pile of ashes and broken glass. Now he and his men were holed up in the middle of nothing. Oh, they had built a two-story bunkhouse with a bar on the first floor, complete with a cook stove and a large stable for their horses, but what they didn't have was access to women!
Kalispell had whores, Columbia Falls had maybe four, that was for sure, but to go into Kalispell was a risky proposition at best. Things never seemed to go well for them whether it was their fault or not. And Columbia Falls would be no better, not that they had worn out their welcome there, not at all. They spent money there for whiskey and supplies, and that alone made them welcome, plus, they left the townsfolk alone so the Town Constable had no worries. But, the lack of women was a genuine problem, and one he had to solve, short of kidnapping which he realized some time ago would be most hazardous.
Thus Case was looking north to Canada, and south as well. Could he keep the gang together? That was the question. Holding the men until they found the right spot. His last venture had failed down south. It had to be different than that small time hole they had ended up in and had to flee. That was a disaster!
There had to be an answer, maybe not one he liked, but an answer.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
One of them things that are often overlooked, Mother Nature. Now I know we’ve had our share of disastrous weather in and around Kalispell, and of course, Whitefish which got itself leveled. But one of the things we don’ t talk about, earthquakes, and Montana has ‘um, a lot of ‘um. Kalispell? Not as many, an’ mostly not as strong as say Helena, who’s had some doozies over the years.
Shakers, if you have ‘um it’s like sun shine or rain, it’s just what you have and you go on about your business. Shakers, mild ones come and go, sometimes the bigger ones are away from Kalispell to the point it’s barely felt in and around town.
Biggest ever? 7.3 northwest of Yellowstone, long after this story we’re tellin’ here.
But suppose, just suppose that a big ol’ quake struck northwest of Kalispell, a bad one, Away from where most folks lived, But one that caused slides, an’ trees ta be uprooted, Damage to anything an’ ever’thing, that sortta shaker. Well, then what’d happen? But then agin, how likely’d that be?
There was nothing that looked even possible, and the promise of easy money rustling cattle and selling them up north was a fading dream that had once been a fact.
There was a Cattlemen’s Association formed over the mild winter and that meant new wire come better weather, More men riding herd, and that would last until the ranchers were sure the rustlers had moved on. The risks were even greater than they had been.
Case and his idea of an outlaw empire were both getting old. Kalispell had once been a prime target, but no longer. Scott Corey had retired and his daughter Hannah had taken over while they searched for a new Town Marshal. That would be Speed Guyer. the only man to ever put him behind bars. And then this Pronto Pike came along and became Deputy, Hannah Corey was going back to the Lost Lake to work.
Now trying anything in Kalispell seemed to be a losing proposition. Trying anything with the ranchers might just be suicide. And what was there to do in the town, oh it was growing alright, but still had only one bank. One way in, and one way out had not worked well the last time a bank job was tried. Men had hung for it, and others were killed. All but one.
Options were dwindling like leaves in a fall breeze.
In 1877, British Columbia was still a part of the crown colonies, as was Manitoba, which was a very large chunk of what would become present-day Canada.
Crossing the northern border was actually easy. Although British forces patrolled the area, there were simply not enough of them to cover all of it all of the time. There were hundreds of deserted cabins in remote areas just above the border with what would be Wyoming Territory. A far better area to raid south from, rustling, robbing banks or businesses that had cash or gold, even stagecoaches. So the son of Elias Steegrave was alive and well.
He would slip into Montana but never as far west as Kalispell. He did not wish to deal with the British in that colony. Though on occasion, he would race across and then ride east, but not often. Case was still careful about what he did and how he did it.
There was no burning out nesters because he had no use for the land. Any cattle that they might have was quickly sold off, and it was rare that they would use the same trail north more than once, and there were plenty of them to choose from. If you could call it that, life was good.
He missed visits with his father, but he was also aware that the law might be looking for him, law other than Guyer, as he was guilty of several crimes farther east that might be difficult to prove, but he was simply not willing to take that chance. He would wait out the spring and then slip back toward home and test the waters. But for the moment, he and his men were busy trying to stay warm. The northern territory was cold, just like home.