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Show TFFMFT SON'S not able to resist the temptation to put down someone who didn't know something that he knew. But Lance wasn't intimidated. He didn't care, not that much. "No. What's a dry goods broker?" "I sell non-food items to stores." "How's that going to make you -one of the riches; men in the territory?" terri-tory?" "Ever hear of Z.C.M.I.?" "Yeah," said Lance. "The big church-owned store that's replacing replac-ing all the little stores throughout the territory. Mormons'!) only buy from Z.C.M.I., nobody else." "Yeah, and do you know who the head buyer is for Z.C.M.I.? "Nope." "My uncle." Brutus' sat back proudly, his thumbs stretching out his suspenders. "He'll buy all kinds of stuff from me, and I'll make ten percent on every single item, sometimes more. Going to St. Louie to buy stuff next week. Ever been to St. Louie?" "Nope," responded Lance. "In ten years I'll be so filthy rich you guys will be proud to know me," continued Brutus, his enthusiasm en-thusiasm growing with Lance's mild encouragement. "You'll tell your kids how you once rode to Salt Lake in a carriage with Brutus , Young." In his excitement, Brutus had let the horses slow to a walk. Storm was the first to notice. "Think we'll make it in time for the dance?" "If we hurry," responded Brutus, Bru-tus, clucking his tongue to signal the horses to speed up. "Got one stop to make on the way." He slapped slap-ped the reins over the horses' rumps to make them go even faster. "What if you're late?" asked Sam, suddenly taking an interest in the conversation. "Kathryn'll just have to wait, I suppose. We'll be late for the dance." "I'll bet she wouldn't like that," said Storm. "Like it or not, she won't say nothing." "Why's that?" Storm was very interested now that the conversa-tion conversa-tion had turned to Kathryn. "I'm a good catch, you know," said Brutus proudly. "She wouldn't blow a good thing. She's lucky to be engaged to me." Storm bit his tongue, resisting the urge to say something sarcastic. Lance was the next to speak. "How do you figure to be such a good catch?" The half-breed's voice sounded innocent enough, but he looked out across the prairie so the dry goods broker wouldn't notice the smirk on his face. "I'm going to be rich, and I'm not a polygamist," said Brutus with confidence. "If she wasn't engaged en-gaged to me, the polygamists would be lined up clear to the front gate asking old man Cannon for his daughter's hand as a fifth or sixth wife. Being engaged to me saves her from all that." "When do you figure on marrying mar-rying her?" asked Storm. "In the fall sometime," said Brutus. "Once I get my new business busi-ness underway." "Fall!" exclaimed Lance. "If I was engaged to a woman like that, I'd forget business and git married tomorrow." "Civilized people don't mate like animals," responded Brutus, a condescending tone in his voice. "It takes time for civilized people to develop lasting relationships." "Glad I ain't civilized," re- sponded. Lance, a wide grin on his face. "How about you, Sam? You civilized like Brutus here?" "Where is it you have to stop?" Sam asked Brutus, ignoring Lance's question, but suddenly very curious about Brutus' plans for the rest of the day. "See ft man about buying some brooms," said Brutus quickly, glad someone had changed the subject. "For Z.C.M.I.?" asked Sam. "Yeah, an old man and his retarded re-tarded son. Live a couple of miles up a roadless canyon. They do good work and sell cheap. I'll make a bundle if I can get them on contract con-tract to sell everything to me." Storm didn't respond, but not from boredom or lack of interest. Brutus' words had triggered an unthinkable un-thinkable idea in the young man's head, one that wouldn't go away. With Storm suddenly quiet, Brutus attempted to resume his conversation with the half-breed. "You've lived among the Indians?" In-dians?" "Raised by them mostly. They're my people, them and the blacks." "With the coming of the railroad," rail-road," explained Brutus, "there'll be a lot more tourists. Seems every one of them wants Indian souvenirs-bows, arrows, moccasins, feathers, robes, necklaces, even scalps. Especially scalps. Every tourist wants to bring home a scalp. Who could supply me with that kind of truck?" "Depends on how much you're paying," responded Lance coolly. "Oh, I'd pay plenty all right, and so would Z.C.M.I. and the tourists." tour-ists." Lance and Brutus discussed the various prices that could be charged for Indian trinkets, especially espe-cially scalps, until Brutus pulled the wagon to a halt at the mouth of a rugged, roadless canyon heading east into the Wasatch Mountains. "Broommaker lives up there, mile or two. Want to come with me? We'll have to hurry." "Yea," said Lance, starting to get out of the wagon. "No thanks," said Sam. "We'll wait here." A surprised look on his face, Lance glanced at Sam. 'What's wrong?" asked Brutus, also noticing the unusual nature of the request. Sam looked down at his feet, slowly placing both hands over the back of his trousers. "Hurts like blazes. Thought maybe Lance would stay behind and help change the dressing. Can't do it by myself." "Be back in about half an hour," laughed Brutus as he trotted up the trail by himself. "Don't wander, or I'll leave you. Can't be late for the ball." When Brutus was out of sight, Sam looked at Lance, and said, "Do you think she would go with me?" "What?" asked Lance, not comprehending. com-prehending. "To the ball. Kathryn. With me." "I don't understand." "If I pulled up to her house in this carriage and said Brutus sent me because he got tied up on business busi-ness and couldn't come himself, but didn't want her to miss the dance. Think she would go with me?" Lance began to laugh. "I think she would. But we might go to jail tomorrow for horse stealin'." "We'll worry about that tomorrow," tomor-row," laughed Sam as he slapped the horses' rumps with the reins. As the carriage pulled back onto the Salt Lake road, Brutus Young was still hurrying towards the broommaker's cabin, confident in his ability to sew up the Utah Territory Terri-tory broom business. CHAPTER 5 ; The next morning, a change of plans left Patrick O'Riley behind to finish some bookwork at the company com-pany store while Sam Storm and Lance Gaw headed for Salt Lake City with Brutus Young. The young woman Kathryn had departed de-parted for the city the night before with some of the railroad dignitaries. digni-taries. ' Everyone of any importance was going to Salt Lake City to attend the Golden Spike Ball. It was to be held at the Social Hall, where Brigham Young and Leland Stanford Stan-ford were to be the guests of honor. The Golden Spike Ball was billed as the social event of the decade. Business and political leaders from across the country, were in the area. Sam and Lance didn't have invitations in-vitations to the ball, but Brutus did, and he made the most out of this added bit of prestige. "Every important man in the territory ter-ritory will be there," boasted Brutus Bru-tus as his buggy bounced along the dusty wagon path. "Won't be many younger than me. What are you guys doing tonight?" "Don't know," responded Sam with little enthusiasm. "Maybe we can make a dollar or two holding teams for guests at the ball." "Great idea!" exclaimed Brutus, Bru-tus, always enthusiastic over a new -money-making idea. "I ain't in any mood to stand around holding horses all evening," even-ing," said Lance, looking down at his bandaged right fist. Sam's right hand was bandaged, too. Both had bruises on their faces. Sam was sitting sit-ting on a folded-over sheep skin, the welts from Blackjack's whip across his backside causing more than a little discomfort. The brawl had lasted nearly an hour and no man in camp had remained unscathed, un-scathed, except Brutus, who had remained in the safety of his carriage. car-riage. "Yep, you fellows are lucky to be ridin' with me," said Brutus, changing the subject. "Why's that?" asked Lance, offering the expected response when it became obvious after an awkward silence that Sam didn't want to be engaged in further conversation con-versation with Brutus, at least not for the moment. Sam had his mind on other things, namely a young woman who would be going to the Golden Spike Ball with someone else. "I'm going to be one of the wealthiest weal-thiest men in the whole territory," bragged Brutus. . "How's that?" asked Lance, content to let Brutus talk all he wanted. - "I'm a dry goods broker." "What's a dry goods broker?" asked the half-breed. "You don't know what a dry goods broker is?" asked Brutus, |