General Bogart Dimsdale was a fine-looking man, no two ways about it. Some said that it was his looks that had gotten him ahead in life and maybe there was some truth in that. During the late war between the states he had risen rapidly at a very early age to the rank of brigadier-general and along with the more famous Custer had been called “the boy general” in the national press. The general opinion of Dimsdale was that he might not be the smartest man in the world, but he was straight. He was one of those men who are referred to, in any historical age, as the older generation. Men said such things about him as “you don’t see that kind around any more.” The truth of the matter was that he had a strong sense of honour and duty. Being a man of considerable private means there was little temptation to him in bribery or corruption.
He had been given the appointment of governor of the territory of Arizona by the President of the United States, who knew him as a man to be trusted. The appointment was also some repayment for many kindnesses on Dimsdale’s part.
The governor had enjoyed the first few months of his appointment immensely. Society in the extreme southwest of the States was simple and unpretentious. To his surprise, Dimsdale found that there were no more people in Arizona than in a small New England village. Almost everybody knew anybody. Ten years ago such was not the case, but the perpetual Apache raids on settlements and ranches had emptied vast areas of the territory. Tucson itself was said to be safe from the Indian threat, but cattle and horses had been stolen within a few miles of the town. It was now guarded by out-of-town volunteer soldiers mostly from nearby California. They were billeted all over town and Dimsdale was not at all sure that there were not more troops than inhabitants in the place. Supplies were short in town and hard liquor scarcer. The soldiers were drinking the place dry. Dimsdale remarked ironically to his wife that, if the Apaches did not attack in force soon, the army would ruin Tucson beyond recovery.
Rose Mary Dimsdale, his wife, sitting opposite him at the dinner table, looking as beautiful as ever in the lamplight, smiled her cool aloof smile and said: ‘You’d better not allow the good colonel hear you saying things like that, Bogart.’
Miley Alpert, the territorial secretary, who was the only other person present said: ‘The colonel only looks for an opportunity to declare martial law. I have a feeling that we’re on a knife edge, general.’
‘Oh, you men,’ said Rose Mary, ‘you see plots wherever you look. I can’t see that a handful of savages can be any danger to us here. And why would Colonel Rally want to declare martial law? He’s too lazy to want such power.’ The governor said ‘Maybe he’s being pushed by somebody we don’t know about.’
Alpert shot him a glance which the woman did not miss.
‘Oh, politics,’ he said. ‘It might not be a bad thing to have martial law at that. It might get the army out of town patrolling the roads. The stages and the freight trains are not only being attacked by Indians. Most of the hold-ups are carried out by white rogues. If we could collect taxes and pay peace officers we would all sleep better nights.’
The governor looked at his territorial secretary and wished he could trust him.
After dinner most evenings, it was the custom for Dimsdale to invite Alpert into his office for a drink and talk. This way they settled the business of the day in an easy atmosphere. Tonight, however, when the governor pushed back his chair and said to his wife: ‘Excuse me, my dear,’ he added to Alpert: ‘We’ll have to forego our drink tonight, Alpert. I have some papers I must go through.’ He rose and said to his wife: ‘Please see that I’m not disturbed for an hour at least.’
Alpert rose and said: ‘I understand, general, but there are one or two matters which I feel should be discussed tonight.’
The governor waved them aside with an imperious hand – ‘Not tonight.’
‘But, general, I fear I must insist—’
The governor’s tone was so unusually chilled that his wife looked at him in surprise – ‘You can insist all you want, Alpert, but I’m afraid I must insist on choosing my own priorities.’ With that, he walked from the room.
The secretary turned to Mrs Dimsdale in dismay.
‘Mrs Dimsdale,’ he protested, ‘is there no way you can make the general change his mind? There are really some important matters which—’
Rose Mary Dimsdale rose gracefully from the table and said: ‘My dear Mr Alpert, I can assure you that when the general’s mind is made up there is no altering it. I am sure that any matters of urgency which can wait until now can safely wait until morning.’
When the territorial secretary left the governor’s residence that night he was more than understandably upset by being brushed off by his superior, he was shaking with fury. When he burst in on Milton Draper some five minutes later, his rage was still high.
‘My God,’ he cried, ‘has someone betrayed us?’
Milton Draper rose from behind his desk.
‘Such emotion, Alpert,’ he said. ‘Why, I took you for a cool man.’
‘This whole damned business is risky enough, heaven only knows,’ cried Alpert. ‘But that fool Dimsdale has ruined the whole plan.’
‘In what way?’ Draper demanded.
‘He must know, he must have spies in our ranks,’ wailed Alpert.
Hardening his voice, Draper said: ‘What has he done, man? Get a grip on yourself.’
‘Our plan involved me taking a drink with Dimsdale,’ Alpert said. ‘How else can we work the switch? We have to have somebody in the palace.’
Draper smiled coolly.
‘It would have been more convenient with you inside, I agree,’ he said. ‘But it is not essential to our plan. You are still territorial secretary. If you were to demand admittance with several other gentlemen, I doubt you would be refused.’
There was something so reassuring about Draper’s vast bulk, something so steady and unwavering in those cold blue eyes, that Alpert’s alarm and rage began to subside.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You’re right. I apologise, Milton. It’s just that I’ve never played in such a risky game before. If it goes wrong we could be ruined men.’
Draper crossed the floor to him and laid a powerful hand on his shoulder. Alpert could almost feel Drapers strength flowing into him. The man was magical. There couldn’t be a nerve in his body.
‘But it if goes right,’ Draper said in his deep rumble of a voice, ‘we shall all be wealthy beyond the dreams of Croesus. That I solemnly promise you. The whole of Arizona will be ours. Who knows that the next governor of Arizona, the state governor, will not be your good self?’
‘You’re very kind, Milton.’
Draper chuckled – ‘The Arizona Ring looks after its own. Did you know they referred to us as the Arizona Ring, Alpert? They have named us, the good general public of Arizona. But you will notice that nobody has dared to actually state who is a member of the Ring. They live in fear. Which is a good thing.’