life and bring them to you to join your loving family. Of course, they are required to attend church and go to school. You must feed and clothe them.
They will be taken off the train and lined up for your inspection. Those not chosen in your town will travel on to the next until all are spoken for.
COME SEE THE CHILDREN. PICK WHILE THERE’S PLENTY TO PICK FROM.
Whip gripped the paper until his hand shook. He read it a second time, then threw it to the counter.
“Taken off the train and lined up for inspection. Like a traveling freak show.” His voice was low and gravely, filled with emotion. “Poor tykes. Orphans. Well, maybe some good will come of it and they’ll all get good homes, but I doubt it.”
“Why would you doubt it, Whip?” Alice asked, “We’re all good people here, and from the excitement and buzz around town since these flyers came out, I know homes will be offered. There have been wagons of families arriving for the last two days. They’re all down at the station now.”
“Yeah.” He spat out the word. “Waiting for those kids to be taken off the train and lined up for inspection,” he said, stabbing his finger at the flyer, “just like it said. I wonder just how many will be given good homes and how many will be given over for free labor? I’d like to agree with you, Alice, that you are all good people here, but I can’t. I know human nature too well. And,” he continued, his voice barely audible, “I know about orphans.”
With that, he turned away from the startled woman and stalked toward a counter of horseshoeing tools. “Too darn well,” he muttered.
Chapter 18
Dusk fell. Whip knew he shouldn’t have treated himself to a shave and hot meal, but the opportunity didn’t present itself often. He’d left Alice filling the remainder of his order a few hours ago, and made sure to steer clear of the railroad station.
He’d brought the wagon around and left it behind the store. Alice had assured him she had a couple of husky kids to do the heavy lifting, and he was not to worry. It would be all loaded when he returned. He only had to pay the bill.
When he walked back into the store this time, the chairs surrounding the barrel were taken by two old timers. They eyed him suspiciously and stopped talking as he got closer.
“Evening.”
The thinnest and most grizzled of the two had a chaw of tobacco poking out the side of a weathered cheek. He turned his head to the side and spit, hitting the spittoon dead center. He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, then reached into a pocket of his bib overalls and pulled out a stick of chew and a knife. He squinted and with a trembling hand cut off a hunk and popped it in his mouth.
Whip could have been a tree for all the notice the old man gave him.
“Harley don’t like strangers.” The comment was offered by the other chair holder. Where Harley was thin and grizzled, this man was short with an overall covered belly that stuck out far enough to hide his shoes. His shiny, round face was red, made even more so by a full head of white hair. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Everett, and I don’t mind a stranger or two. Kinda livens up the day seein’ a fresh face now and again.”
His eyes twinkled and Whip felt drawn to the likeable old man.
“I’d get up, Sonny, but don’t see no sense in haulin’ this gut of mine out of this chair lessen I have to.”
Whip took the proffered hand and was surprised by the strength of the man’s grip.
“Everett, pleased to meet you. You’ll probably be seeing more of me from time to time. Whip Johnson, Powder River Ranch.”
“Know the place. Been let go,” he said laconically.
“I’ve been gone.”
“You the feller whose missus was killed by the bank robber several years ago.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I am,” Whip answered quietly.
Everett nodded toward his companion who had stopped chewing and listened intently. “Harley was in the bank when
They will be taken off the train and lined up for your inspection. Those not chosen in your town will travel on to the next until all are spoken for.
COME SEE THE CHILDREN. PICK WHILE THERE’S PLENTY TO PICK FROM.
Whip gripped the paper until his hand shook. He read it a second time, then threw it to the counter.
“Taken off the train and lined up for inspection. Like a traveling freak show.” His voice was low and gravely, filled with emotion. “Poor tykes. Orphans. Well, maybe some good will come of it and they’ll all get good homes, but I doubt it.”
“Why would you doubt it, Whip?” Alice asked, “We’re all good people here, and from the excitement and buzz around town since these flyers came out, I know homes will be offered. There have been wagons of families arriving for the last two days. They’re all down at the station now.”
“Yeah.” He spat out the word. “Waiting for those kids to be taken off the train and lined up for inspection,” he said, stabbing his finger at the flyer, “just like it said. I wonder just how many will be given good homes and how many will be given over for free labor? I’d like to agree with you, Alice, that you are all good people here, but I can’t. I know human nature too well. And,” he continued, his voice barely audible, “I know about orphans.”
With that, he turned away from the startled woman and stalked toward a counter of horseshoeing tools. “Too darn well,” he muttered.
Chapter 18
Dusk fell. Whip knew he shouldn’t have treated himself to a shave and hot meal, but the opportunity didn’t present itself often. He’d left Alice filling the remainder of his order a few hours ago, and made sure to steer clear of the railroad station.
He’d brought the wagon around and left it behind the store. Alice had assured him she had a couple of husky kids to do the heavy lifting, and he was not to worry. It would be all loaded when he returned. He only had to pay the bill.
When he walked back into the store this time, the chairs surrounding the barrel were taken by two old timers. They eyed him suspiciously and stopped talking as he got closer.
“Evening.”
The thinnest and most grizzled of the two had a chaw of tobacco poking out the side of a weathered cheek. He turned his head to the side and spit, hitting the spittoon dead center. He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, then reached into a pocket of his bib overalls and pulled out a stick of chew and a knife. He squinted and with a trembling hand cut off a hunk and popped it in his mouth.
Whip could have been a tree for all the notice the old man gave him.
“Harley don’t like strangers.” The comment was offered by the other chair holder. Where Harley was thin and grizzled, this man was short with an overall covered belly that stuck out far enough to hide his shoes. His shiny, round face was red, made even more so by a full head of white hair. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Everett, and I don’t mind a stranger or two. Kinda livens up the day seein’ a fresh face now and again.”
His eyes twinkled and Whip felt drawn to the likeable old man.
“I’d get up, Sonny, but don’t see no sense in haulin’ this gut of mine out of this chair lessen I have to.”
Whip took the proffered hand and was surprised by the strength of the man’s grip.
“Everett, pleased to meet you. You’ll probably be seeing more of me from time to time. Whip Johnson, Powder River Ranch.”
“Know the place. Been let go,” he said laconically.
“I’ve been gone.”
“You the feller whose missus was killed by the bank robber several years ago.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I am,” Whip answered quietly.
Everett nodded toward his companion who had stopped chewing and listened intently. “Harley was in the bank when
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