Greene's Knights

by Tipper

The apothecary is kidnapped, and that's just the beginning. In four parts. (complete). (It is shorter than the size says it is. Not sure why it thinks it's that big.)

2. Part Two -- The Who and the Why

Greene's Knights

Part Two

Josiah was standing in the door to the shop, listening to Mary and Belinda whisper in the background. The two boys were both sitting quietly together, leaning against one of the glass cases in which Mr. Greene kept his wares. Jeremy had his arm around Elwyn's shoulders, holding on tightly to his younger sibling, protectively.

It reminded Josiah of Hannah, when he used to hold her close to him as children. Shaking his head of those morose thoughts, he tried to stay focused on the present. Instead, he tried to distract himself by naming all the herbs in the window without looking at the labels. He got stuck after naming basil, fennel, mint, lemon balm and marjoram. Fact was, he just didn't care. Where the hell were they?

Footsteps approached from up the boardwalk, and he straightened up to greet Nathan. The healer just inclined his head. Then they both looked down the road as the faint rumble of horses interrupted the night.

"Buck?" Josiah asked, not looking over.

"Healing," Nathan replied. "JD's there."

The preacher didn't reply, just narrowed his eyes as the riders approached. A huge sigh of relief escaped his lips when he was able to see who it was.

"Bel," he announced, looking inside, "they did it."

Mrs. Greene emitted a happy cry and dashed out front, the boys on her heels. On his horse, her husband raised a tentative hand in greeting, before returning it to his aching head. His family almost pulled him from the gray mare before the beast came to a halt.

Ezra grinned, and Vin laughed. Even Chris offered a small smile before turning to Nathan. Steel blue eyes asked a simple question, which Nathan stepped forward to answer, meeting the gaze evenly.

"He's alive. Should be all right with rest," the healer stated. "You should go up there, though. I think he might need you to be there when he wakes up."

Chris hesitated, confused by the statement. Then he frowned, "Why?"

Nathan pursed his lips, not really sure how to answer. "Something he mumbled while he was delirious, Chris. Just do me a favor and be there when he wakes up."

"Nathan, if he's going to be fine, I don't see…"

"Please, Chris. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

Chris tensed his haw, then inclined his head. "I'll go as soon as we finish up here, if that is all right with you, Nathan?" An undercurrent of sarcasm underlined the tone.

Nathan watched him warily, as if testing the statement. Finally, he sighed heavily and shrugged. Chris continued to watch him for a moment, then dismounted. Vin and Ezra were already off their horses, and Vin had taken the black mare's reins with his own. Reaching out a free hand, he took Solon's reins as well before heading to the livery.

Chris stepped up to the family and cleared his throat. Mr. Greene looked up, his red eyes wet with tears. Nathan joined them, to make sure that Mr. Greene was alright. Mary helped Bel tell the story of what happened.

Josiah sidled over to stand next to Ezra, who was patiently waiting for Nathan to turn and notice him.

"You alright, son?" the preacher whispered.

Ezra looked up and offered a light smile. "Well enough, Mr. Sanchez. And the name is Ezra, not 'son,' if you please. I really wish you would remember that." There was a distinct edge to his tone, and the smile hardened to accompany it.

Josiah's eyes narrowed in exasperation, but he didn't say anything. His hands alternately gripped and loosened for a moment, until he forced himself to calm down. Meanwhile, a couple feet away, Mr. Greene was explaining that none of the bandits had said anything about who they were working for, though Bel's guess at it being related to his brother was probably correct.

"Surveyor General," Chris shook his head. "No offense, Mr. Greene, but that is usually one of the most corrupt offices in the territorial government."

"No offense taken, Mr. Larabee," Stephen shrugged. "Unfortunately, my brother has always been the type to thrive in such environments."

Mary cleared her throat, "If it does involve Harold Greene, Chris, then it likely has to do with a land deal or statehood."

"Or mining rights, Mrs. Travis," Ezra supplied, his right hand moving up to brush back his hair, "or water rights, or the railroad, or relations with Mexico….Really, it could be anything. Mr. Greene's brother has the third most powerful position in the territory now, and many interests will be wanting to influence him."

"Right…." Mary sighed. "Tomorrow I'll go through the papers, see if there are any large deals going on that might lend themselves to a kidnapping." She grimaced, her eyes tired as she glanced over at the family. "You should all try to get some sleep now. Why don't you come and stay with me at the Clarion tonight, so long as you don't mind sleeping on the floor?"

"Thank you, Mary, that is most kind," Bel replied, holding tightly onto her husband's arm. He patted her hand absently.

"Actually, Mrs. Travis, I know Mr. Jackson will undoubtedly force me to stay near him this evening. Why don't you stay in my room at the saloon? Then at least you'd have a bed, and the boys can use my bedroll," Ezra grinned. "I'm sure Inez won't mind."

Nathan nodded where he was standing next to Ezra now, clearly waiting for the chance to wrench the man's arm back into place. Ezra had sidestepped him a few times, not wanting to show the Greenes how badly he was hurt. They didn't deserve that sort of guilt on top of everything else.

Stephen looked at his wife, and she nodded. The saloon was almost directly across from the jail, and, as Chris had already said he was planning on setting up a patrol, not to mention having someone else staying up with their one prisoner, it was probably the safest place in town.

The apothecary slipped out from his family and stepped forward with one hand outstretched to Ezra. "That would be wonderful, Mr. Standish. I really don't know how to thank you. I already owe you a great deal this night."

Ezra took the hand warmly, "It was nothing, Mr. Greene."

"Nothing? I thought they were a goner after you fell off that horse, and when they turned around to make sure….You nearly died trying to save my life, Mr. Standish. Believe me, if there is ever anything I can do for you, please, don't hesitate to ask."

"Mr. Greene, I…"

"Stephen, please, call me Stephen."

"Well…Stephen…then I guess you will have to call me Ezra. But, please, I did nothing that my fellow peacekeepers here wouldn't have done in my position. Now here," he reached inside his waistcoat pocket and withdrew a pair a keys. "The larger one will let you in the back door of the saloon, and the smaller one is for my room. It's the first door on the left as you reach the small hallway above the main room. Inez is directly opposite, if you want to wake her to inform her that you'll be there."

Stephen took the keys with a relieved smile, then stepped back. Bel took his arm again and flashed the gambler a grateful smile. The two little boys hadn't moved, except to grasp at their father's coattails when he was back in range, but they too looked gratefully on the gambler. Ezra nodded at the tableau, then dropped his head, no longer wishing to be the center of attention. Taking their cue, Stephen nodded once more at Chris, and the family headed away to the saloon at a slow pace.

"Nearly died?" Josiah hissed tensely, as if those had been the only words he'd heard. He was watching the family move off.

Ezra smiled tightly where he stared at the ground, his eyes flashing in annoyance.

"Did you lose consciousness when you fell from the horse?" Nathan asked quickly, circling around to look Ezra directly in the eye.

"Perhaps."

"Damn, Ezra. Can't you do anything halfway?"

"Then what would be the point?" the gambler replied cheekily. Nathan sighed and steered Ezra away towards the boarding house. Josiah watched them go, his jaw clamped shut so tightly it was beginning to ache.

"He did fine, Josiah," Chris muttered in the preacher's ear. "Better than fine. If he had waited for us, we might never have caught up with them."

"It was a foolish risk. Almost got himself killed."

"If you had been in his position, would you have done anything differently?"

Josiah didn't answer, just kept watching as Nathan hooked an arm around Ezra at one point when the gambler started to wilt. Then they were gone inside the darkness of the boarding house.

"You need to ease up, Josiah," Chris suggested. "You're driving him crazy."

"I'm driving him crazy?" Josiah rebounded loudly, turning to glare at the gunslinger in front of him. Chris winced.

"All I'm saying, is that he doesn't seem to be handling you're…shall we say, extra attention?…very well. You may want to ease up."

Josiah narrowed his eyes, frowning deeply at Chris's knowing gaze. Abruptly he turned away, his blue eyes fixing on the church at the other end of town. Finally, he sighed.

"Is it that obvious?" he whispered. Chris looked to the ground, nodding slowly.

"I think we've all picked up on it, Josiah, except maybe Buck and JD."

The preacher shook his head, looking down at the ground. When he spoke again, his voice sounded exhausted. "I just don't know where this is coming from," he began. "Every time I try to quash my feelings for him, I find that they are still there, just hidden. Like tonight. When I saw him riding out like that, it was all I could do not to yell at him to stop. In fact, I think I did yell his name. Then, when I was sure he was fine…I wanted to grab him by his jacket lapels and make him promise me that he would never do something that risky again." He shook his head and turned wet eyes to stare at the full moon.

"I'm not his father, Chris. Rationally, I know that. But some part of me -- a part thicker and stronger than my reason -- won't let go of the idea that he's as close as blood."

Chris watched him for a moment, then looked over at the boarding house, at the light burning in Buck's window. Not far beyond, he could see Vin was heading towards them from the livery, wiping his hands on his trousers. The man in black shrugged.

"You don't decide who it is you're going to care for Josiah, or how much. You know that as well as I do. I somehow ended up with six men and a town to look after, and it scares me that I find myself unable to…break away. But even then, I find certain people have made an even deeper impression than others." He paused, watching Vin look up and offer a wave, and took a deep breath. He turned back to fix Josiah with a determined stare. "But when those people don't want that attention, Josiah, you have to back off. There you do have a choice."

The preacher shook his head. "Not if I stay here, I don't."

Chris looked at him sharply, then inclined his head. "Maybe. Just…try, okay? While he may not want you to…worry about him so much, I also know he would never want you to leave because of him."

Josiah sighed, then stood up a bit straighter as Vin met them.

"What are we talking about?" the tracker asked lightly.

"Patrol," Chris replied curtly. "Do you and Josiah mind staying up tonight? One of you should be in the jail, and I want the other walking a short patrol. After Nathan sees to Ezra, I may send him out here with you. You can alternate shifts to help you stay awake."

Vin nodded, scratching the back of his head. "You going to be at the boarding house?"

"Yeah."

________________________________

The morning dawned brightly, and birds sang in the rafters of the boarding house. Buck's eyes blinked open, his mind vaguely curious about hearing other people snoring around him. A slight feeling of nausea assailed him for a moment, but it passed and he turned his head to look around.

JD was lying on the bed next to him on top of the covers, his head snuggled deep into a pillow. Spread over him was Chris's black duster.

Turning his head the other way, Buck saw Chris sleeping in a chair next to the bed, his head on his chest. Must be damn uncomfortable, Buck thought fuzzily.

The ladies man smiled, and a weight he hadn't realized was there lifted off his chest. Moments later, his clear blue eyes slid closed again.

___________________________

Nathan yawned fiercely as he tiptoed down the hallway of the boarding house. When he reached the room Virginia had set up for him, he listened for a moment, then slowly turned the doorknob.

As he pushed the door open, he heard the distinctive sound of Ezra's Remington cocking.

"Whoa! Whoa, it's me," Nathan called, opening the door wider to see a blinking Ezra pointing the gun at the door. Upon seeing him, Ezra let the gun fall to his lap and sighed.

"Knock first, Mr. Jackson," the gambler chastised, his other hand rubbing at his face. He winced slightly as the shoulder twinged.

"First of all, that gun ain't loaded. Second of all, you should be dead to the world after last night. How is it you're awake?"

"I…don't know. Just had trouble doing more than dozing. I keep waking up after half an hour or so." Ezra threw the Remington to the side with some disgust. "How could you not let me reload it after I went to sleep," he demanded coarsely.

Nathan chuckled, "So you wouldn't blow my head off when I came in to check on you."

Ezra smiled wanly at that, and tried to roll his shoulders to get some feeling back. His left arm felt like lead, which was annoying as he tended to rely on it more than his right.

"Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were alright," the healer told him.

"Fine. How are you?"

"Tired. Listen, since you're up, you want me to get you breakfast?"

Ezra looked up, startled. "You're offering to get me breakfast?"

Nathan shrugged. "Miss Virginia's already up making it for some of her other guests. Comes with the room, you know? I was going to get myself some and some for Buck, JD and Chris. No trouble to add another plate to the tray, or get someone to help me."

Ezra thought on that a moment, then nodded, smiling brightly. "Thank you Mr. Jackson. That would be most kind."

"Umm hm," Nathan flexed an eyebrow. "But I warn you, I want to get some sleep of my own afterwards, so plan on sharing soon."

"Ah," Ezra frowned slightly. "Tell you what, Mr. Jackson. Why don't I go and see how Inez is doing with the Greenes? She can feed me, and maybe I can go to my own room now to get some more sleep."

Nathan frowned, then shrugged. "I don't really want you moving too much."

"I'm just bruised a bit, sir, I swear," the smile seemed to shine even brighter, the gold tooth flashing in the sunlight streaming in between the curtains.

Nathan pursed his lips, then nodded. "All right. But don't move just yet. You may as well wait for breakfast, and you can come help me check on Buck."

Ezra saluted with his right hand, palm up, in the English style. "At your service, Sah!" He called gaily in an English accent. "Stiff upper lip, what?"

Nathan just rolled his eyes and shut the door.

________________________

"I'm feeling fine, kid, just tired." Buck struggled to sit more upright, annoyed at the way Nathan had tied his right arm to his side to prevent him from moving it.

"Well, I ain't leaving until you're on your feet," JD retorted angrily. Over by the door, Chris sighed and tapped his fingers on his crossed arms. The ladies man and the kid had been arguing almost since Buck had woken up. Buck wanted JD and Chris to leave and check on the Greenes, but neither one had left.

"Well then Chris should at least get out of here," Buck stated, looking over at his oldest friend. Chris just shrugged. When he'd crept in last night, he'd heard Buck mumbling in his sleep. JD had been awake then, his eyes tired. The kid told Chris that Buck had called out their names a few times, and though JD had tried to respond, it was clear that the ladies man couldn't hear him. For some reason, Buck seemed intent on believing that he'd been left alone to face something awful, something about dead men. Chris understood then what Nathan had meant, and now he wasn't going to leave until Nathan returned.

As if in response to that thought, someone knocked.

"You boys decent in there?" Ezra's voice called, not hiding his amusement. They could hear Nathan chuckling next to him.

Chris growled and opened the door, "What took you?"

Nathan's eyes widened, and he held up the tray of food. "Thought you might be hungry," he smiled. Behind him, Ezra held his own plate in his right hand, his left having been bound to his body by Nathan. Chris stepped back to let them in.

JD bounced off the bed and took the tray from Nathan, setting it at the foot of Buck's bed. The ladies man curled his legs up to give them space. Ezra wandered lithely over and sat in the chair Chris had slept in, his own plate perched on his lap. He grunted as the plate slipped and he had to catch it awkwardly with one hand.

"We're twins, Ez," Buck laughed, indicating the sling, and earning him a wry grin from the gambler.

"How you doing Buck?" the healer asked, moving over to check on the bandage. He was pleased to note that the wound didn't appear to be bleeding.

"A bit queasy, Nate, but otherwise okay. Be chasing the fillies again before week's out, I reckon."

"Or the reprobates who attempted to steal our resident apothecary," Ezra added.

"Them too, "Buck nodded. "Chris says you knocked the one who got me out of his saddle and charged off like Sir Lancelot. That true?"

"I'd give Chris the role of Lancelot, and myself the role of Sir George, but, yes, there is some truth to the rumor."

"Well then, thanks. I can't wait to get my hands on the bastard who took a shot at me." Buck's face darkened, and Nathan grimaced.

"You're not going anywhere for a couple of days, Buck. Not until I know that you're not going to faint from blood loss or start hemorrhaging on me."

Buck waved his good hand dismissively at the healer, but he didn't disagree. He was still feeling too poorly to challenge the order yet.

"Besides," Nathan said, "Josiah put the fear of God into the man last night. From what I can tell, he's already told us all he knows."

"Oh?" Chris had moved to sit on the floor, his plate on his knees, but he looked up when Nathan said that. Putting the plate down he leaned forward to hear what happened. Ezra was also watching, his right hand absently twisting the scrambled eggs about on his plate in a circle.

Nathan sat down on the edge of the bed and looked down at his plate. "Yeah. His name is Paddy Shaw, an Irishman, and he was hired by one of the fellows whom Ezra killed. Someone named Billy."

"Oops," Ezra muttered. Chris gave him a look to quiet him, then turned back to Nathan. The healer had just finished putting some food in his mouth, and was taking a hearty swallow from the water than came with it. He wiped his mouth off before continuing.

"Anyway, Paddy said he wasn't sure what it was all about. They were hired to kidnap Greene and take him to some guy over in Red Rock named Farron. But he did say there were a few odd things about the whole deal. One was that they were given specific directions not to hurt the family." He paused, letting that sink in. Over on the floor, Chris frowned. Nathan took another bite, then spoke around the food in his mouth.

"The other was that Billy kept calling Mr. Greene 'poisoner,'" he shrugged.

"Poisoner?" Ezra repeated, tilting his head. "Do you suppose this has something to do with Mr. Greene's profession somehow?"

"Could just be Billy didn't like apothecaries, Ezra," Chris replied. Ezra nodded, seeing the logic.

"Nothing else?" JD asked.

"Nope. That's all he knows."

"You sure?" JD asked again. "He could be hiding something."

Nathan looked at the kid, his eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm sure. When I say Josiah scared him…he really scared him. He even scared me a bit. It was as if he was possessed or something." His brown eyes flicked over to Ezra for a moment, and the younger man swallowed. Suddenly his appetite was gone.

"I, uh, think I'm going to go home now, Nathan, if that's alright?" the gambler said, looking down at the still half-full plate.

Nathan frowned, but nodded. "Just don't take that sling off for a couple of days, okay? Not unless you have to. You've dislocated that shoulder twice now…it's going to take longer to heal this time, and I don't want you straining it without good reason."

Ezra nodded, still not looking up.

"And try to sleep," Nathan added more quietly. "If you want, I can bring you something to help…."

Ezra looked up, his eyes glittering slightly with anger. "No. Thank you, but absolutely not." The healer's eyebrows raised, but he didn't say anything. They each watched as the gambler slowly got to his feet and, with a slight nod to everyone, left the room.

"He ain't sleeping?" Buck asked.

Nathan just shrugged. Chris sighed and stood up as well. His plate was also unfinished, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I'm going to go check on the prisoner and relieve Vin and Josiah. JD, I know you want to stay with Buck, but I think he could probably use some rest now that Nathan's here."

The kid opened his mouth to argue, but Buck beat him to it.

"Go ahead, JD. Vin and Josiah and Nate are probably beat with having to watch the town all night. I'm not going anywhere for awhile, and I know you'll be back soon. You're the only one who can back Chris up right now."

JD frowned, not happy, but eventually he nodded. "I'll be back before you know it, Buck," he stated fervently. "I aim to be by your side as much as possible."

Buck grinned at that and caught Chris's eye. "Well, if you're Lancelot, old buddy, I guess JD here must be Galahad."

"Galahad?" JD repeated, his eyes open.

"Sir Galahad was a paragon of virtue, JD. Honest, steadfast and incorruptible," Chris explained.

"Well, that sounds pretty right," JD smiled, looking back at Buck.

"Yep," the ladies man smiled, then he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "He was also called Sir Galahad…the Chaste." He stressed the sibilant in 'chaste' and grinned wolfishly.

JD's mouth fell open and his face reddened, whether from blushing or anger, you couldn't tell. With a growl he smacked Buck on his good arm and stalked out the door, breakfast in hand, ignoring the laughter that followed in his wake.

_________________________

Mr. Greene was leaning on a mop in the front of his store, his chin resting on his hands where they were cupped over the top of the handle. Belinda stood in the background, wiping down the glass counters with a rag. Chris and Josiah were both standing in front of him, waiting.

"I'm sorry," Stephen said finally. "I just don't know. I've never been to Red Rock. I come from Hillsboro originally, and I came here from that way. I've never been North." He frowned, looking at Chris, "Red Rock is north, right?"

"Yes. What about the name Farron?"

Greene grimaced, but shook his head. "Sorry, nothing."

Chris matched the grimace and turned to Josiah. The preacher was staring blankly at the floor, dark circles under his eyes. Chris looked outside, to where JD was sitting in front of the jail, rifle in hand.

"Well, if you think of anything, let me know." The gunslinger stated, turning around again. "I'll go see if Mary's come up with anything, and then check to see if the Sheriff at Red Rock has telegraphed us back."

"Is there nothing else you can do to get these men?" Belinda asked, stepping out from behind the counter. She gripped the rag in both hands, her brown eyes wide and imploring. Chris could only shake his head.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Greene. Without more to go on, we're a bit trapped. But don't worry, we'll be patrolling every night from now on."

Belinda looked away, and Stephen offered them a thank you nod as the two men walked out.

Josiah sighed in the open air, rubbing his forehead tiredly. Chris didn't say anything, though he wanted to tell the preacher to get some rest. But, while Chris was older than all the others, Josiah had him beat by ten years. After their brief talk of last night, Chris didn't want to intrude on the older man's privacy anymore.

JD looked up as they approached. "Anything?" he asked.

Chris shook his head. "I'm going to go talk to Mary. Could you check the telegraph office for me?"

"Sure, if Josiah stays here."

"I'm not going anywhere," the preacher rumbled, sitting down on the bench next to JD with a heavy thump. JD looked worriedly up at Chris, but didn't say anything. He'd already seen the mess that the Irishman was in this morning, even after being bandaged by Nathan. He was not about to say anything against Josiah, even if was to tell him to go and get some rest. Chris matched the gaze, his eyes clearly agreeing.

Over by the saloon, Ezra was sitting out front, showing Jeremy and Elwyn all his one-handed card tricks. The children's laughter floated over the rest of the town.

___________________________________

Chris entered the Clarion quietly and approached the desk. Mary was sleeping, her head resting on her arms where they sat above a pile of papers, her long hair loose on her shoulders. He watched her for a moment, his lips curving into a smile. She looked beautiful asleep.

After a moment, he reached down and gently tapped her arm. She came awake with a start, staring blankly up at the gunslinger. Then she smiled.

"I guess I fell asleep," she laughed, rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Nearly one."

Her mouth fell open. "Oh my God! I forgot to get the paper out!" She jumped up, then tilted slightly as her equilibrium misbalanced. Instantly, Chris caught her arm and she fell on him slightly, letting him hold her up. They stayed like that for a moment, her hand on his chest, looking up at him, feeling his heartbeat. His smile widened, and she blushed.

"I…I'm sorry," she muttered, stepping back. He wanted to tell her not to apologize, hating the way his throat always seemed to close up on him at moments like this. Instead, he coughed into his hand and waved towards the front of the store.

"I saw the papers stacked by the door this morning when I checked on you," he replied. "I had JD distribute them for you."

She glanced to the door as if to verify his words, then she smiled. "Thank you, though I had meant to insert something in them about the kidnapping last night. I suppose it can wait until tomorrow's issue." She nodded to herself, then leaned back against the side of the desk.

"How's Buck?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Hurting, but he'll be fine. You find anything out?"

Her shoulders slumped slightly as she turned around to look at the piles of papers. "There's just too much, Chris. Ezra was right about that. Stephen's brother just has his hands in too many pots."

"Well this might help. Does the name Farron mean anything to you?"

Mary turned around, her sharp eyes watching him. Then she nodded. "Yes. I came across that name last night. Wait…."

She started going through the piles on her desk, discarding them into a pile. Finally, she pulled out one and handed it to him. It was an article from the Chatham Chronicle. As he read, she wandered across to the filing cabinet and started looking under "F."

Farron Brothers Enterprises buys the old Santos Mines.

Michael Farron and his sons, John and Andrew, of Farron Brothers Enterprises, have bought the ten Santos mines that ring this town. He has promised that he will soon have the federal money to open them fully, and has sent out a general call for workers on both sides of the border.

Mayor Castyll has declared the arrival of the Farrons to be a real coup for the town of Chatham. "He brings with him the promise of progress," said the Mayor in a town meeting yesterday, "and Chatham can only prosper with his presence. Michael Farron and his sons should be welcomed with open arms and happy hearts. He will put Chatham on the map. This coup may even convince the Southern Pacific Railroad to include Chatham in its southwestern expansion."

Chris put the paper down, only glancing at the date before turning his eyes back to Mary. It was dated two weeks ago. Meanwhile, the newswoman had pulled out a folder and was quickly surveying the contents.

"Sounds like Chatham is lucky to have him," Chris prompted.

"Not really," she replied. "Never trust the mayor of a dying town. They're too easily bought." She smiled thinly and looked up, "That was a bit flippant, wasn't it?"

"So what is really going on? Did someone salt the mines? Are they unsafe?"

"Oh no, I'm sure the mines themselves are actual mines, though probably not very profitable. The issue is where the mines are located. Chatham is a border town in the southern hills, Chris. Most of those mines are located in Mexico, and Farron probably paid next to nothing for them because of that. However, if, by some twist of fate, they are suddenly determined to be located in the New Mexico territories…."

"Then they get subsidized," he finished.

"Yes. Even a mine that would at best break-even can be profitable with the amount of money the federal government pays out to keep them going. And being so close to Mexico, Farron can hire Mexicans and displaced Indian workers at next to nothing, and, if any harm comes to them, the territory can't do anything because they're not residents. Even the Chinese workers on the railroads have more rights." She sighed and leaned against the wall. "The best of both worlds, if he succeeds."

"But at the moment, they are listed as being in Mexico."

"Unless the Surveyor General says they're not."

Chris snorted, "Ten mines equals a lot of money, thousands of dollars, more than enough to warrant a kidnapping to ensure that that money is received. Well, now we know who, and the why, the only thing we can do is see if Paddy's word is enough to convince the Judge. I'll also have Mr. Greene write his brother and tell him what is happening. Is there anything else I should know about this Farron?"

Mary looked down at the folder in her hand, and raised an eyebrow. "Nothing…most of the articles in here are the same. Farron and his sons buy up mines in border towns, turn a quick profit, then leave, all usually within a year. The only other thing in here is some silly article about a family ghost."

Chris blinked, "An article about what?"

Mary nodded, her eyes sparkling, "A ghost. Supposedly, the Farrons had a little sister who died in an accident when she was ten. The article says that she appears to them when they're in trouble, saving them…" She trailed off, her lips curving into a smile as she scanned the rest of the ridiculous article.

"Really," Chris said, clearly not sure how to reply to the odd news. "And that helps me how?"

Mary laughed, "Well, perhaps we should call in some ghost specialists, just in case the little girl shows up here. You never know what havoc a ten year old can wreak. Billy can attest to that fact."

"Ghosts," Chris shook his head, "and it's not even October." He started to leave when she called him back.

"Here," she handed him another article, and he realized it contained a sketch portrait. The man looking back at him was smiling, with a long flowing white beard and kind, light-colored eyes. Mary nodded at the picture.

"That's Michael Farron."

Chris emitted a short laugh, and met her guileless gaze with an incredulous one. "He looks like Santa Claus," he explained, shaking his head.

__________________________________

On to Part Three --