A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
Roland stood when it became apparent the gentleman down the street was heading his way. Once the fellow was in hailing range, he tipped his hat.
"Good day to you, Sir. I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Roland Smith, of the Smith Gunmaker and Shop."
Sometimes, Roland wished that he'd come up with a catchier name for the establishment. Ah, well. Sometimes, simplicity is best.
"You look like you may be a man of discerning tastes, perhaps in the market for some iron," Roland suggested, "would you care to come in and have a look around? Enjoy a cup of tea? There's more in the kettle, and cream and sugar besides, if that's your taste."
The clothes on this man suggested 'money' in the way that most people's didn't. This might just be the sort of rare frontiersman who'd be interested in a large caliber double-rifle to take down a bear or other large game animal.
"Good day to you, Sir. I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Roland Smith, of the Smith Gunmaker and Shop."
"Elias Steelgrave," He stated as he walked up to the porch, "Evergreen Ranch, you may have heard of me, if not, I'm sure you will, soon enough."
"You look like you may be a man of discerning tastes, perhaps in the market for some iron," Roland suggested, "would you care to come in and have a look around? Enjoy a cup of tea? There's more in the kettle, and cream and sugar besides, if that's your taste."
"I am, sir. Thank you for the offer, but no, I really must be getting back. However, I have a question for you." He began, "I am in need of large quantities of ammunition, can you provide such in both forty-four and forty-five calibers?"
Elias liked the cut of the man and thought if he could manage the ammunition, he would have further use for his services. He was a man who like his firearms, so if this fellow manufactured them, there would be call to have a look at another time.
@ Cuban Writer
A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
Steelgrave. Evergreen Ranch.
Those were two words Roland had indeed heard before. And neither of them in the context of anything good. This was the man who had murdered a family in order to perform a land grab. He was now the antagonist in the lives of two children. He was the local petty King aiming to capture the whole territory.
Or so Roland had been told.
And so he believed.
But Roland was an Englishman, and part of his cultural training involved a kind of social poker-face. He was good at disguising his feelings about a matter when he wanted to. And if ever there was a time to do so, it was now.
"Ah, yes Mr. Steelgrave. You are often spoken of as a man of quality."
Which quality that was, Roland kept to himself.
"I do in fact have a quantity of .44-40, .44 Henry Rimfire, .44 Smith and Wesson American, .44 Smith and Wesson Russian, .45 Colt, and .45 Smith and Wesson, also known as the .45 Schofield. But perhaps more importantly, I have the facility to manufacture more of any of these calibers. So if you have a large order- bigger than a hundred rounds- I can make it up as custom loads in my shop. Ten cents per cartridge."
There was no way to deny this man without marking himself as an enemy. But there were ways to supply Steelgrave for his upcoming range war while also helping Lost Lake in subtler fashion than simply spitting in this man's face. A difficult needle to thread, perhaps. But Roland was a skilled operator in this arena.
"If you place a bulk order, I can have Addy at the freight office make delivery for an additional five dollars."
The prices were high, but since the rail didn't yet reach this town, one might expect shipping fees to impact prices. Moreover, if Steelgrave wanted to portray himself as a man of means, he was unlikely to balk at the expense. Roland waited to see what the man would say.
"Yes, it would be a thousand rounds of .45 Colt and .44 Colt, we have no specialty calibers, and if so, why, I'll just send the man in to order his own. However, let me get back and see where we stand. Once I am confident of the amount needed, I shall send in one of my men with the order and a draft on the local bank. Hopefully, that will be satisfactory." Elias said."Or, if you prefer cash?" That the man could be working both sides, well, it is what he would do. A sale is a sale, no matter the buyer.
War is good business, not that it had even come close to starting, those Elias was sure the man was aware of pending problems between His Evergreen and Thornton's Lost Lake Ranch. Let him decide who was in the right and who was in the wrong.
@ Cuban Writer
A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
"I've been to the local bank, Mr. Steelgrave. I trust any paper they'd certify."
Men of import such as Steelgrave could also be trusted... to have their cheques cashed. Such a man as he could probably even walk into the bank and command a loan with no more collateral than his reputation, black as it was. The only color a bank cared about was green, and his ranch surely provided a lot of it.
"I'll be waiting to hear about that order, Sir. And I'll keep a kettle on."
He smiled. Perhaps Mr. Steelgrave would notice that the good humor on his face didn't quite reach his eyes.
Perhaps Mr. Steelgrave was used to that.
"And to you, sir. A pleasure doing business with you, and I will be interested in what you make in so far as pistols are concerned." Elias explained. "I wonder, would you be willing to come out to the evergreen? I rarely visit Kalispell, Whit Fish was my town I'm sure you'll hear of ast winter's catastrophe there. At any rate, sir, I shall be in touch via a rider."
Having a man, even though he would deal with the Thorntons, of his expertise would be a leg up, not so much on the Lost Lake, but in general. Elias started to coss back to the horses but stopped in mid-stride, half turned, and said; "All I asked, Mister Smith, are the same rates as the Thorntons pay, good day."
Tag Cuban Writer
A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
"I'd be happy to accept your invitation, Mr. Steelgrave," Roland said, "Name the date, and I shall appear. I'll even bring some pistols I've made for you to look at."
His smile deepened.
"As for the Thorntons... one of their men came by a few days ago. I quoted him a price.
He doubled it.
So matching rates might be an expensive game, Mr. Steelgrave. But I'll play it if you want me to.
Good day to you, Sir."
Elias stopped and half turned, "Doubled it did they?" He smiled, "Count me in, matter of fact, make that two thousand rounds of each. And good day to you, Sir." As if money was a problem, he felt he could buy and sell Thornton, whether or not he actually could. They continued across the street.
@ Cuban Writer
Elias stopped and half turned, "Doubled it did they?" Elias said.
"Boss? Them the men you want gone?" Jansen asked looking over the four men lounging at the corner. " 'bout even, we can end this 'un righ'cheer!"
"Easy Jansen, we don't want no gunplay in town," Granger advised him. " 'sides, the boss already said no ta that."
Logan smiled, "but it'd be so easy." Then he laughed.
"Well, if Dutch and the boys couldn't get it done, it don't need doing right this moment. Besides, I don't see Bannister, and I don't like that." Elias stated. And Bannister would not be one you would want to come up from behind. "Let's mount up and get out of town. There's time enough for them later." So they walked on toward their mounts.
Santee and the others stood upright to face the Evergreen riders. "The old man on the streets of Kalispell. I don't believe it." He said, "If they start it, get the old man! No matter what!" But they moved on to their horses, mounted up, and rode out of town.
"Damn! Figgered they had more sand than that, but with the old man along, maybe he put the stop to it." Gilcrest stated.
A tale of two factions, one choosing the better part of sanity by riding away, the other, filled with disbelief that there had been no gunfight when all signs pointed to it. But Elias Steelgrave understood that men would die and he might well be the first of his men to fall! In fact, given the men standing across the street, he was convinced of that fact. They would kill him no matter what happened to them, an out in the open street fight, it would not matter who fell, as men would be too busy shooting to save their own lives.
And, for those that had waited to see just what Steelgrave himself would do, bitter disappointment that they did not take the chance to kill Elias. Though they were not wild about shooting it out in the street. They would hang whoever was left alive! The odds of not hitting the innocent were non-existent. People who had nothing to do with this feud would have been hit, and there would be no way to tell who would die, and who would not. They simply turned and headed back to the house.
Elias and his men rode out of town, the thoughts of what might have happened on Main Street far from the immediate thoughts of Elias, the armorer it seemed was arming both sides, unless he was not to be believed as to the visit from Lost Lake. and the question was if in fact, Lost Lake had ordered a large quantity of ammunition, were they arming up for defense, or to strike at the Evergreen? Striking at the Steelgrave home ranch would be a mistake, at least that was how Elias saw it, but it was certainly food for thought.
A certain tragedy had been averted.