“I’ll pay it,” Kitty said.
“By July fourth? That is when your loan is due, isn’t it? July fourth?”
“Yes.”
“That’s just over a month from now.”
“What if I am a few days late with my payment? It isn’t going to make that much difference,” Kitty said.
“What makes you think that?”
“Think about it, Marcus. The bank wants the money I owe them. They don’t want the ranch. Anyway there’s no problem. I have a contract to sell some horses in Chicago. Once I deliver those horses I will have more than enough money to pay off the loan, and I’ll have the property, and the horses, free and clear.”
“You have a contract to sell horses in Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“But even so, how many horses can you sell in Chicago?”
“My contract calls for five hundred.”
“Five hundred? That’s a lot of horses. Who would buy five hundred horses?”
“The U.S. Army,” Kitty replied with a satisfied smile. “So you see, Marcus, there is no problem. I will get the bank paid off.”
“In time?”
“Yes, in time. That is, assuming I have no problems in getting the horses to Chicago.”
“Ahh, well, therein is the rub. Kitty, I don’t want to be the naysayer here, but just what makes you think you are going to be able to get your horses to Chicago? You haven’t even been able to protect them when they are on your own property.”
Kitty walked over to a table and picked up a copy of The Boise Statesman. “Did you read this article?” she asked, showing the paper to Kincaid, and pointing to the article in question.
“About the shootout over in Wyoming? Yes, I read it. What about it?”
“Read the last sentence,” Kitty said. “The one that says Matt Jensen is a friend of what is right, and a foe of those who would visit their evil deeds upon innocent people.”
Kincaid read the sentence, then he laughed out loud.
“What is so funny?” Kitty asked.
“Do you really think Matt Jensen, this—hero—will come to your rescue, wearing shining armor and riding on a white horse?” Kincaid asked.
“Well, not the shining armor, and maybe not even the white horse. But yes, I really think he will come to help me.”
“What makes you think that he save the day?”
“Because he is Matt Jensen,” Kitty replied.
Marcus Kincaid left the house then, laughing out loud at Kitty’s innocent naïveté about someone she had only read about in the newspaper.
Chapter Six
Coventry Manor
George Gilmore was a small man, five feet three inches tall, and weighing but 120 pounds. What he lacked in size, though, he made up for in intelligence, having graduated from Washington University in St. Louis with full academic honors. After graduation he read for the law, and was now a practicing attorney in Medbury, Idaho.
At the moment he was standing in the entry hall at Coventry Manor, having been summoned by Kitty Wellington. As he waited there, he studied the colorful banners that hung over the hall, including the Union Jack of Great Britain, the Stars and Stripes of the United States, and the Wellington family crest.
Gilmore was a little nervous about the visit because he had recently represented the plaintiff in a lawsuit against Mrs. Wellington. Mrs. Wellington won the lawsuit, so he hoped she hadn’t sent for him to give vent to her anger. Mrs. Wellington was a very important woman in Owyhee County, and someone in his position could not afford to make such a powerful enemy.
“Mr. Gilmore,” Mrs. Wellington said, smiling sweetly when she came to greet him. “Thank you so much for coming.”
Gilmore was a little taken aback by the smile. It seemed genuine. He relaxed a little.
“Yes, well, you said you had need of my services. I must confess to being a little surprised.”
“Why surprised?”
“I thought you might be angry with me.”
“Because you represented the other party in a lawsuit against me? Don’t be silly. I know that’s what lawyers do. I also know that you are an honest and trustworthy man. You could have bent the facts in the case, but you did not.”
“That wouldn’t have been ethical,” Gilmore said.
“Exactly,” Kitty said. “And right now I need someone who is both ethical and discrete. Can you be both?”
“As long as the two requirements aren’t contradictory,” Gilmore replied.
Kitty laughed. “Good, good, that is exactly the answer an honest man would give. Now I know I have the right man.”
“What is the task, Mrs. Wellington?”
Kitty picked up a folded copy of The Boise Statesman from the hall table. “Have you read this paper?”
Gilmore glanced at it, then he looked up. “Yes, it has a very nice article about you.”
“It also has an article about Matt Jensen,” Kitty said. “The task I am assigning you, Mr. Gilmore, is to find Matt Jensen. Once you learn where he is, I want you to contact him and tell him that an old friend needs help, and ask him to meet you in American Falls. Once you meet him, bring him to me.”
“You tell me to bring him to you, but I can only bring him if he is willing to come,” Gilmore said. “I have heard of Matt Jensen. I get the feeling that he is not a man who can be coerced into doing something he doesn’t want to do.”
“I will give you a personal letter to carry from me to him. Once you show him the letter, he will come,” Kitty said, confidently.
“All right, I’ll contact him, and I’ll carry your letter to him,” Gilmore replied. “But I’m curious. Why do you want me to meet him in American Falls? Why not meet him in Medbury?”
“I want to keep the meeting secret,” Kitty replied. “I think we can better do that in American Falls. Besides if, after you meet him, he doesn’t want to get involved, he won’t have come so far. That is, assuming he is still in Green River.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Mr. Gilmore, I especially do not want Poke Terrell to find out about this. If Prew is right, if Mr. Terrell is the one behind the rustling of my horses, he might try and stop Matt from coming.”
“Matt?
