laugh. As long as Mr. Robb steers us in the right direction, I don’t care.”
“Well, I just might,” Theo groused, straddling the chair beside him.
A rowdy group of young men crossed the street and hurried along the storefront, talking loud and jostling for position with their elbows. Two men in tall hats and pretentious suits strolled from the other direction, lost in a hushed conversation. A flirtatious couple rounded the corner of the building, the giggly girl blushing at being caught by Pearson’s gaze, the boy intent on grasping for her hand.
The boisterous commotion in the street hadn’t faded since they’d been inside the store. The denizens of Marshall hustled past in droves, oblivious to strangers in their midst, hatching a plan to snatch a prize from under their noses.
Pearson nodded at the milling throng. “Don’t you wonder why they’re not looking for the
Mittie?
Why they haven’t already found her? She can’t be hidden that well, can she? Finding a great hulking thing at the bottom of a lake is not like searching the ocean floor.”
Theo nodded. “It would be something, wouldn’t it? If we came allthe way from Galveston and pulled up a fortune in gold, when all the time these folks were sitting right on top of it?”
Pearson leaned forward and laced his fingers. “I’ve wondered the same about Lafitte’s gold. Why aren’t there leagues of men contending with me for it? How could a man hear of a lost bounty and lack the heart to search?” He shook his head. “It’s not in me, Theo. I’m not made that way.”
Theo nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose most people are busy chasing the fire in their own chests. Just because a man works for years baking bread for someone else doesn’t mean he’s not burning inside to own the bakery.”
Pearson bit his lip and nodded.
“Look at Rosie,” Theo continued. “For years she served slop up and down the Strand, saving every penny she earned. Now she has a little place of her own. It took most of her life, but she chased her treasure and found it.” He nudged Pearson’s arm. “It’s just that your idea of treasure is a tad more literal than most.”
Grinning, Pearson sat back and crossed his arms. “So what about you? What hidden riches do you covet?”
Before Theo could answer, a bevy of young women sashayed toward them, their sweeping skirts, mounded curls, and brightly colored parasols crowding the boardwalk. Tittering and cooing, they danced past, lovely preening birds on display.
His attention snared, Theo tipped his cap at each smiling girl as she went by. Only when their retreating backs turned the corner did he pull his gaze around to Pearson. “I’m sorry. What did you ask me?”
Shaking his head, Pearson laughed. “Never mind, paisan. I think I have my answer.”
Mr. Robb tottered out of Weisman’s, paused by the door to summon his best offering for the spittoon, then joined them with a broad smile.
Pearson stood and offered the old man his seat, stepping over Theo’s long legs to slide into the chair opposite him.
“Turning into a mighty fine day, ain’t it?” Mr. Robb said.
Pearson leaned to nod at him. “It surely is. And Marshall’s a real nice town.”
Mr. Robb raised his chin. “Yes indeed. Thanks to Mr. Gould and cotton.”
Frowning, Pearson glanced at Theo and shrugged. “Come again, sir?”
“Jay Gould, president of T&P Railroad. He moved his operation to Marshall in the ‘70s. The town grew rich overnight. Before long, we were one of the South’s largest markets in cotton.”
Theo smiled. “Jay Gould and cotton. I get it now.”
Mr. Robb leaned over and nudged him. “Speaking of money and cotton, I could use your strong backs and nimble fingers on my farm. I’d pay you a fair picker’s wage.” Grinning, he lowered his voice. “You’ll get rich a lot quicker that way than looking for sunken gold.”
Theo slapped his knee. “The clerk told you. I knew it!”
Grinning, Mr. Robb patted
“Well, I just might,” Theo groused, straddling the chair beside him.
A rowdy group of young men crossed the street and hurried along the storefront, talking loud and jostling for position with their elbows. Two men in tall hats and pretentious suits strolled from the other direction, lost in a hushed conversation. A flirtatious couple rounded the corner of the building, the giggly girl blushing at being caught by Pearson’s gaze, the boy intent on grasping for her hand.
The boisterous commotion in the street hadn’t faded since they’d been inside the store. The denizens of Marshall hustled past in droves, oblivious to strangers in their midst, hatching a plan to snatch a prize from under their noses.
Pearson nodded at the milling throng. “Don’t you wonder why they’re not looking for the
Mittie?
Why they haven’t already found her? She can’t be hidden that well, can she? Finding a great hulking thing at the bottom of a lake is not like searching the ocean floor.”
Theo nodded. “It would be something, wouldn’t it? If we came allthe way from Galveston and pulled up a fortune in gold, when all the time these folks were sitting right on top of it?”
Pearson leaned forward and laced his fingers. “I’ve wondered the same about Lafitte’s gold. Why aren’t there leagues of men contending with me for it? How could a man hear of a lost bounty and lack the heart to search?” He shook his head. “It’s not in me, Theo. I’m not made that way.”
Theo nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose most people are busy chasing the fire in their own chests. Just because a man works for years baking bread for someone else doesn’t mean he’s not burning inside to own the bakery.”
Pearson bit his lip and nodded.
“Look at Rosie,” Theo continued. “For years she served slop up and down the Strand, saving every penny she earned. Now she has a little place of her own. It took most of her life, but she chased her treasure and found it.” He nudged Pearson’s arm. “It’s just that your idea of treasure is a tad more literal than most.”
Grinning, Pearson sat back and crossed his arms. “So what about you? What hidden riches do you covet?”
Before Theo could answer, a bevy of young women sashayed toward them, their sweeping skirts, mounded curls, and brightly colored parasols crowding the boardwalk. Tittering and cooing, they danced past, lovely preening birds on display.
His attention snared, Theo tipped his cap at each smiling girl as she went by. Only when their retreating backs turned the corner did he pull his gaze around to Pearson. “I’m sorry. What did you ask me?”
Shaking his head, Pearson laughed. “Never mind, paisan. I think I have my answer.”
Mr. Robb tottered out of Weisman’s, paused by the door to summon his best offering for the spittoon, then joined them with a broad smile.
Pearson stood and offered the old man his seat, stepping over Theo’s long legs to slide into the chair opposite him.
“Turning into a mighty fine day, ain’t it?” Mr. Robb said.
Pearson leaned to nod at him. “It surely is. And Marshall’s a real nice town.”
Mr. Robb raised his chin. “Yes indeed. Thanks to Mr. Gould and cotton.”
Frowning, Pearson glanced at Theo and shrugged. “Come again, sir?”
“Jay Gould, president of T&P Railroad. He moved his operation to Marshall in the ‘70s. The town grew rich overnight. Before long, we were one of the South’s largest markets in cotton.”
Theo smiled. “Jay Gould and cotton. I get it now.”
Mr. Robb leaned over and nudged him. “Speaking of money and cotton, I could use your strong backs and nimble fingers on my farm. I’d pay you a fair picker’s wage.” Grinning, he lowered his voice. “You’ll get rich a lot quicker that way than looking for sunken gold.”
Theo slapped his knee. “The clerk told you. I knew it!”
Grinning, Mr. Robb patted
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