Chapter Twenty-five
When the large ranchers returned home after the funeral, they were greeted with an unpleasant surprise. Every one of them, from Clyde Barnes of the Cross Fire Ranch to Webb Dakota of Kensington Place, had lost cattle, and not just a few. Dale Allen had lost the most, with 160 of his cattle gone. Burt Rowe had lost the least number of cows, and even he had lost 78.
Webb Dakota, whose losses were only slightly below that of Dale Allen, circulated a petition, then presented it to Brad Houser, calling for an emergency meeting of the Cattlemen’s Association.
Like the previous meeting, this one was held in the meeting room of the Bank of Chugwater. Sid Shamrock, who the cattlemen knew as Captain Paul Harris, was there, and he was sporting one of the badges that had been fashioned for him and the other deputies.
“Mr. Dakota,” Houser said as soon as the meeting was called to order. “I believe you are the one who circulated the petition. Therefore, you are responsible for this emergency meeting.”
“I asked that the meeting be called. That is correct, sir.”
“Then the floor is yours,” Houser said with a welcoming sweep of his hand.
“I appreciate the invitation, Mr. Houser, but when you formed the constabulary, you also assumed, by your action, leadership of our organization. And because that is so, I shall defer to you, as I have no wish to conduct the meeting.”
“Oh, you need not worry about conducting the meeting, Mr. Dakota. As the chairman I will be conducting this, as well as all the other meetings. I am merely inviting you to address the assembly so that you may apprise us of your perception of the magnitude of the problems we are facing.”
“Very well, I shall.”
Dakota stepped to the front of the assembly, cleared his throat, and then began to speak.
“When I returned to Kensington Place from the funeral that was held for the unfortunate young employee of Mr. MacCallister”—Dakota paused and nodded toward Duff—“I discovered that considerably over a hundred head of cattle had been stolen. This was in addition to the previous cattle I had lost. I have since checked with the others and learned that my situation is not unique. In fact, every one of us had been visited by cattle thieves.”
“Except for Sky Meadow,” Houser said, staring pointedly at Duff. “There were no cattle taken from Sky Meadow, isn’t that correct, Captain MacCallister?”
“Aye, that is correct,” Duff replied.
“Why didn’t he lose any cattle?” Lewis asked. “Hell, it was his man that was killed. And he is the only one who wasn’t hurt?”
“That is an awful thing for you to say, David,” Burt Rowe put in. “We lost a few head of cattle. Duff had a man killed.”
“Aye, and thank you for pointing that out, David,” Duff said. “I would gladly trade places with any of you. That is to say, I would rather have lost a few head of cattle, than to have lost a friend.”
Lewis looked chagrined. “I’m sorry, MacCallister. I had no right to say such a thing. I suppose I was just upset that I lost so many cows.”
“We’ve discussed this before, gentlemen,” Houser said. “Captain MacCallister enjoys a degree of protection by the very nature of his herd.”
“Oh yeah,” Goodman said. “There’s no way a rustler can hide those black woolly bastards he raises.”
The others laughed, including Duff. Then Houser raised his hand to reclaim attention.
“Gentleman, I do believe that Mr. Dakota was quite correct in calling for a meeting, and so I think perhaps we should decide what steps may be taken to deal with this problem.”
“What do you mean, what steps?” Dale Allen asked. “We’ve already hired us some deputies. Seems to me that should be enough. If they will just get to work.”
Houser smiled. “Yes, ‘get to work.’ That is exactly what I wanted to hear you say.” He turned to Shamrock. “Captain Harris, have you any specific plans in mind to deal with this outbreak of cattle rustling that is plaguing the valley right now?”
“Yeah,” Shamrock said. “We’re goin’ to find the ones that’s doin’ this ’n put a stop to it.”
Again, Houser addressed the cattlemen. “I am assuming, gentlemen, that by your expressed wish that something be done, that you are in full support of Captain Harris and his deputies.”
“You are assuming too much, Mr. Houser,” Duff said. “I’ve nae idea what your deputy has in mind, when he says he will ‘put a stop to it’ and I’ll nae be giving my consent to action without knowing what that action may be.”
“There’s no rule in the association that says everyone has to agree, is there?” Dale Allen asked. “I mean, we already know that MacCallister didn’t lose any cows on account of he’s raisin’ Angus ’n the rest of us are raisin’ Herefords. Seems to me like, since he isn’t dealing with the same things the rest of us are, then his vote should be discounted. Seems to me like if a majority of us are in favor of letting Captain Harris and his deputies do what needs to be done, that’s all it should require.”
“You are quite right, Mr. Allen,” Houser replied. “I have examined the bylaws of the Cattlemen’s Association and it clearly allows for action to be taken on a majority vote.”
“Hear! Hear!” Goodman said.
“I have a question,” Duff said.
“The chair recognizes Captain MacCallister,” Houser responded.
“The Laramie County Cattlemen’s Association has quite a number of members,” Duff said. “If it requires a majority vote, we’ve nae near enough here to be a majority.”
Houser smiled and held up a finger. “Ah, but my dear Captain MacCallister, this is the Chugwater Chapter of the Laramie County Cattlemen’s Association. We are a subcommittee, an ad hoc group, gathered to deal specifically with such problems as may face us here, in the Valley of the Chug. And the rules of majority approval holds true for such committees as may be formed, as well as for the association as a whole. And by those rules, a majority at this meeting will dictate the actions we may take.”
“Well, sonny, you can count my vote along with Duff’s vote,” Elmer said.
“Oh, I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Houser replied with a satisfied grin. “You see, we vote as corporate entities, not as individuals. That means that each ranch has only one vote, regardless of how many partners there may be. Why, you take Kensington Place, for example. As I understand it, there are at least ten partners in that ranch, but they are represented by Mr. Dakota, and he casts the vote that speaks for all of them.”
“I move the question,” Lewis said.
“Very well, all in favor of giving Captain Harris carte blanche to deal with these rustlers, hold up your hand,” Houser said.
“What is carte blanche?” Goodman asked.
“It means give him absolute authority to do whatever he thinks is the right thing to do,” Houser said.
“Well, if it’s the right thing,” Goodman said, holding up his hand.
Everyone voted yes but Duff and Webb Dakota.
“Mr. Dakota?” Houser said, surprised to see that the Englishman did not vote.
“I’m hesitant to give Mr. Harris . . .”
“Captain Harris,” Houser corrected.
“Yes, well, I am hesitant to give Captain Harris carte blanche. I think we should have some input into his operation.”
“If he, and the deputies, are limited by having to wait for specific authorization, I fear they will be so hamstrung that they will be ineffective,” Houser said. “They must have the freedom to react to the situation at hand.”
Dakota shook his head. “Then I’m sorry, I can’t vote for that.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Houser said. “The vote is six to two, so the motion carries.
“Captain Harris, you are hereby authorized to take whatever action you deem necessary to rid the Valley of the Chug of the reprehensible activities of the rustlers. Can we count on you?”
“Yeah,” Shamrock said.