Chapter 11

Exhausted from the travel and the work of getting the proxies signed, Jarrod trudged into his home in San Francisco well after dark, lit a lamp right away and dropped his briefcase on the floor beside the stairs to the second floor. He was about to get himself a drink when he noticed the envelope on the floor near the door and picked it up. He knew what it had to be, and he was right. It was from Nick.

O'Doul in Sonora jail. Marshal coordinating with sheriff in Ely. Heath and I will head home tomorrow with Murdoch's proxy.

Jarrod poured himself the scotch and sat down in his favorite chair with a deep sigh. Nick had just put the cap on a very good day. With Murdoch's, Jarrod had all the proxies he wanted, and all he needed. Tomorrow, he'd check in with Davis and find out what news he might have. Then he'd visit the stock exchange in hopes of finding Uncle Sam'l and waving the need for a board meeting under his nose. And if he needed to, if he didn't run into the man at the stock exchange – he'd track down his Uncle Jim Barkley.

Jarrod took the time to plot out tomorrow's work very carefully, trying to think of problems and be ready to head them off. He had already eaten dinner out so now he could just relax, think and be grateful everything was falling together. Again, he was so tired he fell asleep in his chair, but this time he woke up in about an hour, and got up and went to bed.

Well rested in the morning, he made himself coffee and breakfast and was at Pinkerton's again just after eight. Davis was there, and smiled and shook his head when Jarrod filled him in on what had happened. "You sure move fast when you have to," he said.

"I had my brothers helping me," Jarrod said. "Do you have anything new for me?"

Davis nodded. "I've got Huddleston."

Jarrod nearly shot out of his chair. "What?"

"Well, I don't exactly have him, but I have a full name and I know where he is. It's Jonathan Huddleston, and he's in Sacramento. No set address we know of, but he's there, as of yesterday."

"How did you get that?" Jarrod asked, still astonished.

"An informant I really can't reveal to you, but he's reliable," Davis said.

"A railroad man?" Jarrod asked.

"I can't answer that."

"I could I make an educated guess."

Davis laughed and shook his head. "Don't ask me, Jarrod. I'm not gonna tell you."

"You don't need to. I'll find Huddleston. I need to talk to him."

"Don't go running off to Sacramento too fast. I have more on your Uncle Jim, too."

Now Jarrod frowned. "He didn't buy more stock, did he?"

"No, but we've verified he's given his proxy to Hummel, and we have an address where he's staying."

"Where?"

"The Palace Hotel."

"Well, that figures," Jarrod said.

"That's why we checked there first," Davis said. "What do you want us to do now?"

"Nothing more yet," Jarrod said. "I'm going over to the stock exchange to find Uncle Sam'l and threaten him with what I have and what I know. My brothers got me the last proxy I needed, and they also got O'Doul, arrested and in the Sonora jail before being taken to Nevada."

"You Barkleys DO work fast," Davis repeated.

"We can't waste time," Jarrod said. "The situation in Lonesome Camp needs to be corrected before we really do start having labor trouble there. And those people have been neglected long enough. We Barkleys prefer to keep our promises."

"Speaking of which," Davis said, "we – uh – have this bill….."

Jarrod laughed. "I have a draft on me. I'll settle up on my way out."

XXXXX

Sam Hummel was a short, withered old man who spent most of his day at the stock exchange. You could spot him across the room, and Jarrod did almost the minute he walked in the door. Jarrod stopped long enough to light a cigar. Uncle Sam'l was always impressed if you smoked a cigar in his presence, even though he didn't smoke himself. He didn't have many vices like that.

He didn't even look up from his notepad when Jarrod stepped up beside him and said, "Good morning, Uncle Sam'l. Making any money today?"

"A little, Brother Barkley, a little," Hummel said.

"Good," Jarrod said and puffed on his cigar. "I'd like to talk to you for a minute, if I may."

"Make it brief, Brother," Hummel said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Barkley Sierra," Jarrod said.

"I'm a busy man, Brother Barkley. Maybe you ought to come around to the office."

"Now, Uncle Sam'l," Jarrod said. "Right now."

Hummel still did not look up. "Word has it you have been gathering up some proxies. Is that what you want to talk about?"

"It is," Jarrod said, "that and conditions at the mine. You haven't been keeping the promises we made up there, Uncle Sam'l."

"Promises?" Hummel said. "What promises?"

"My brother's been up there and found there's no school, no teacher, no store but the company store that overcharges and some rotting timber in the mine. Men getting hurt, Uncle Sam'l, and children being neglected. All because you've been cost cutting."

"Not I, Brother Barkley. Those are decisions of the Board of Directors."

"Come now, Uncle Sam'l," Jarrod admonished him, in fake jest. "You control that Board and we both know it."

"All right. It's my job to look after the shareholders' interests and to my mind that means maximizing profits, and that means keeping costs down. I intend to keep doing that."

"So you're going to force me to file my petition then?"

"What petition?"

"A petition to enjoin the Board from enacting any further business, pending a shareholder meeting – and you know good and well I have the proxies to back up the petition and even to elect a new board," Jarrod said. "So why don't we just skip all that and correct the situation right now with a board meeting where I can present my evidence and get my concerns addressed."

"Your concerns?" Hummel said. "The school in Lonesome is your concern?"

"It's one of them, only one of them," Jarrod said.

"And you think you have the proxies for enough votes."

"I know I do, because I know who you've had on your side and what he's been buying."

Hummel finally looked up Jarrod's way, giving him a side eye.

"My actual uncle, Jim Barkley, has been buying and giving you his proxy," Jarrod said, "but I've got the votes of more than half the outstanding shares, so let's just schedule this board meeting and discuss the conditions in Lonesome. And how to correct them so my father's promises are kept."

"You believe the board will agree with your approach, Brother Barkley?"

"I believe they will or I will get a new board elected," Jarrod said. "And Uncle Sam'l, you really don't want to rely on my Uncle Jim for support, because if you do, you'll be putting yourself right into the middle of a family feud."

Hummel actually gave a little flinch at that.

And Jarrod chuckled wickedly. "Why, that old scoundrel of an uncle of mine hasn't mentioned anything about our throwing him out of the family, has he? You think he has some influence over us and over me. My, my, Uncle Sam'l. You're getting naïve in your old age."

Hummel didn't say anything.

Jarrod said, "Jim Barkley is out of the family for good, Uncle Sam'l, and if you intend to keep your wagon hitched to him, well then you will be starting a little war with the Barkley family. And when that war is over, I'm gonna collect that greasy hide of yours and Jim's, and have you both stuffed."

Jarrod gave Hummel's chest a little poke.

"Call the board meeting for the day after tomorrow, your office, ten o'clock," Jarrod said. "And don't invite my Uncle Jim."

Jarrod gave a last big puff on his cigar, turned, and walked out.