Chapter 8 [Wells Fargo Bank—Twenty Minutes Later]
Miguel stopped in front of the bank. "Are you all right?" He could still see Heatstroke's signs in the other man.
"I'll be fine. Just get me inside. I'm good." Caldwell grinned. "If it gets real bad, I'll go to the icehouse. I got to be by that telegraph."
Miguel nodded. He understood being the only person in a role. "Take care of yourself. I mean it. Adios, Amigo."
"Thanks, Padre." Caldwell kept on going toward his office.
Mr. Caldwell will kill himself! ¡Ay Caramba! Miguel shook his head. He walked into the bank and waited for Price.
The banker in question stepped out of the back room. Figures and Transactions buzzed about in his mind. In particular, the ongoing feud between Ricardo and the Granadas troubled him. Why can they not simply leave the poor man in peace. Terrible! He caught Miguel out of the corner of his eye. "Padre Miguel, good morning!" Professionalism brightened his outlook. He composed himself.
"¡Buenos Dias, Señor Price!" Miguel shook his hand. "How are you? You seem troubled."
"I was thinking of your family's troubles. I did not have time to express condolences over Don Sebastian's death to Manolito, Don Ricardo or to the Cannons. But it was terrible indeed." Price sucked in another deep breath.
"Gracias. He was a dear family friend. Can we speak? My father has a potential investment opportunity. I am but the messenger."
"But of course, Padre! Please!" Price ushered Miguel to his desk. "What may I do for you?"
"Read this por favor." Miguel unfolded and handed him the telegram.
"Hmm." Price read the message over. "So he is in Los Angeles? That is a wise move. The Mexican government does not want this unrest any more than our government does. I fear it is bad for business and security."
"The Granadas have crossed over several times already. There have been standoffs in Tubac and right on the High Chaparral's ranges." Miguel accepted the telegraph back. "I will address this in the Mass on Sunday."
Price nodded. Advantages and Disadvantages ran through his mind in that regard. "I will leave that to you. It is very fortunate that the railroad has its run through here." He rubbed his chin. "Padre Miguel, this offer comes at a very opportune time. I am well aware of your cousins' standing in California. I know Daniel Markum in Los Angeles. I shall indeed send a message to him immediately." He shook his head. "He will be sorry to see the Tavern Victoria go. Quite a pity."
"This Señor Markum has been there?" Miguel leaned back in his seat. Interest quirked an eyebrow.
"Oh yes! He goes there at least once a week. I too have eaten there several times. Your Aunt Alejandra was incredible as a cook! He has told me of your cousin's skill. Rosie's would face very stiff competition. Los Angeles' loss will be Tucson's gain. And possibly the Vails' gain as well." Price took out a sheet of paper from his ledger. "I am writing a message to your father. Would you come with me to the telegraph office? If this is true, I wish for the process to be in motion before this meeting tonight." He tore off another piece of paper. "And one for Mr. Markum. There!" He slapped the desk. "I believe that is good!" He pulled on his coat. "Would you care to accompany me to the Western Union Office? I believe you should be in the room. One more thing. I have a message for a Reverend Matthew Jackson? Is there a minister in town by that name?"
Miguel nodded. "Sí. I know him. His wife is at the Catholic mission helping in our effort. I am to meet him for coffee in fifteen minutes."
"Then I will do more than accompany you to the telegraph office. I have an offer of interest for him as well. It seems the town would like a new tavern and a Protestant church as well. I believe you might assist even if it is not of your order?" Price pushed his chair under the desk.
"We are friends and share in Our Lord's Service. He and Sister Mercy are good people. Brother Benjamin is my friend as well." Miguel led Price out of the bank and down the boardwalk. "I have never met Doña Angelina."
"As I said, you will very pleased, Padre Miguel." Price strolled into the telegraph office. "Hello, Mr. Caldwell. I have two telegrams to send. They are urgent."
"Yes, sir!" Caldwell saw Miguel waiting by the door. He waved and sat down at the telegraph. He read the first message. Then his fingers danced to Morse's tune on the metal knob.
Miguel tore a paper off of the pad. He scribbled a note of his own. Then he stepped forward and waited. "I have one as well, Señor Caldwell." He counted out a few coins from his pocket. "Papa left me money."
"Just a minute." Caldwell typed away on the second message. "All right." He handed Price his papers back. "Who is this going to?"
"Doña Angelina de la Vega, Rancho Vega, Los Angeles, California por favor." Miguel counted the coins into Caldwell's hand. "I wish to send my cousin blessings and salutations on behalf of the Church and myself."
Caldwell typed on the knob more. Then he stopped. "There you go, Padre!"
"Gracias." Miguel tucked the note into his pocket. "Let me introduce you to Reverend Jackson, Señor Price. Vamanos." He waved to Caldwell. "Gracias, Amigo."
"I appreciate it." Price tipped his hat to Caldwell before heading out after Miguel.
Admiration made Caldwell stop for a minute. Consideration made him aware once again how the telegraph sped up business over long distances. He saw it in under half an hour.
Technology was changing things….