Oscar Rosewood (The Treasury Agent from The Root of it All)
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A molar, that's exactly what it was, but it wasn't a human molar. I just told Miss O'Hara that as a means of engaging her in some conversation, as she seemed the curious sort to me. Truth is, that molar had once belonged to Sitting Bull, or at least that's what an old man in a saloon told me. He said I could have it if I bought him a drink. Seemed like a fair trade to me and I had a jeweler attach it to my watch fob. I must admit, it is quite the conversation piece. If I had given it some thought, I might have realized such a prim and proper woman as Miss Prudence Palmer might take offense at the idea of carrying a human tooth around on a watch fob, but seeing the look on that woman's face was worth her wrath of indignation.
The truth is, I'd been following those three ladies since they boarded a train in St Louis. The Treasury Department had gotten wind of that letter Miss O'Hara had, and knew it contained a map to a possible buried Union payroll that was lost during the war. Had it been Confederate money, the Treasury wouldn't have gotten involved as Confederate money was worthless after the war. In fact, it wasn't of much value even during the war. But lost or stolen Union money, especially in large sums, was of great interest to the United States Treasury, and as a Treasury Agent, I was assigned to follow the trail to the money. In this case, the trail was led by Miss O'Hara.
The two male passengers on the stage were just innocent bystanders who got caught up in Miss O'Hara's treasure hunt by pure accident. Had that stage not been robbed, they would have uttered some polite good byes when we reached Mill Forks. But that robbery changed the dynamics of the situation completely. I've never seen two more foolish cowboys in all my life, what with agreeing to go after them outlaws. I admit a five hundred dollar reward might be tempting, but those two could have been killed, all for a piece of U.S. Mail belonging to a charming little lady with a pretty little accent. I bet if they had known the trouble it was going to lead to, they would have turned down that offer.
Truth is, every literate person in the entire Wyoming Territory is more than familiar with how this missing Union money all played out, so I won't bother you with all the details. If you haven't heard about it, just pick up any newspaper west of the Mississippi and it'll take you about ten minutes to catch yourself up to snuff.
What you don't know is that after Miss Prudence and Deputy Treadwell ran off with all that money, I notified the Treasury Department by telegram, and (this came as no surprise to me), I was ordered to find them before they left the country with all that money. So, at the moment, I'm on a train bound for Denver, where I will try to pick up their trail. My guess is they're headed for New York, or maybe Boston to catch an Ocean Liner for Europe.
The last I saw of Miss O'Hara, she was trying to talk them two cowboys into letting her tag along with them. They might realize that is just asking for trouble, but my guess is they are both only thinking about that accent and charm, and maybe a few dollar signs rolled into the equation. I just hope I can catch up to Miss Prudence Palmer and still stay a step ahead of Miss O'Hara.
But enough about all that Union money treasure hunt. I wanna get back to telling you about that tooth. What I told you about the old drunk in the saloon was all true, but after I had the jeweler attach it to my watch chain, folks would see that tooth and start asking about it. Well, one day when I was in Tombstone, Arizona, a tall, thin, sickly man with a mustache happened to notice it and asked me where it came from, I told him the story about Sitting Bull and he just looked at me and broke into such a hardy laugh, it doubled him over and threw him into a terrible coughing spell.
"Sir, I happen to be a dentist and that ain't no human tooth," he said to me. "In fact, it ain't any kind of tooth."
"Then what is it?" I asked.
"That my friend, is a carved white opal."
"An opal?" I said, taking a new interest in my conversation piece.
"Don't look so impressed, friend. White opals are a dime a dozen. People want the colorful stones in their jewelry. Jewelers couldn't give them white stones away. Then one day a Gemologist tried carving those stones into shapes like that tooth or teardrops and such. After a while people took notice and liked the little unusual shapes he carved for earrings and hatpins. That tooth you've got is probably worth about thirty or forty dollars, so I'd say you made a good trade for it."
Well, needless to say, I was a bit disappointed, but that fella, Holiday was his name, reminded me that knowing the truth doesn't mean I have to tell folks the truth, and I liked that way of thinking.
So I still wear that little bauble on my watch fob and when people see it and ask about it, well I still tell em that little relic is in fact a molar that once belonged to Sitting Bull (except of course, when I come across some prudish little old lady. That's when the tooth belonged to my dead dead wife.
In truth, I've never been married.