A Prison Story Part 3
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I was having a good dream, when the knocking finally woke me up. Someone was at the door. I got out of bed and the knocking resumed.
"Hold your horses, I'm coming," I hollered out.
I put on some pants, and some slippers, which I kept by my bed. They had been a treat to myself, to combat the cold floors. After putting on my pants and the slippers, I slipped on a heavy robe and made my way to the door.
Opening it, I saw it was my boss, sheriff Carl Wangle. I told him to come in and stop letting the heat out. After shutting the door, I went to my pot bellied stove. I opened the front and looked in. Hot coals were still visible, so I put more wood in it.
Both of us stood next to the stove as I asked him what was up.
"Bill Jacobson has been spotted over by the 8/H ranch. I'm going to head out that way and I will be gone a couple days. That will leave you in charge of keeping the lid on the town," Carl told me.
"Want some coffee?" I asked, making my way to the kitchen.
"No, I have to get back to the office, and get ready to go. Since I will be gone, you can suspend night patrols, except for maybe an early one around 7 PM. Other than that, just show up at the office in the morning about 6:30 AM and I will give you your final instructions then," the sheriff explained.
I nodded as I loaded kindling into the kitchen stove. I had fired it up when I had gotten home this morning, as I normally do, and the wood caught quickly. I dipped out some water from the water barrel and put it in my coffee pot, then put grounds in the basket. I also filled the water reservoir in the stove with more water.
I had brought this camp coffee pot with me from the future. I figured it was not too technologically advanced. It was something anyone could manufacture in late 1877, really.
Carl stayed and talked to me for long enough, that he did wind up drinking a cup of coffee. He watched me put sugar into my cup, and grimaced.
"You're ruining a perfectly good cup of coffee doing that, you know," he said about my putting sugar in my coffee.
"You drink your coffee your way, and I'll drink my coffee my way. How's that?" I asked tongue in cheek.
He grinned and drank some more coffee.
I pulled some bread out of the breadbox, and got some butter from the pantry. The chill in the pantry kept the butter nicely. As a matter of fact, everything I wanted to keep chilled went into the pantry on a shelf by itself. Good way to keep leftovers, really.
"Say, Carl? Do you remember I asked you to let me go for a couple weeks over Christmas? I have to head to Denver and see my folks. I promised them you know," I reminded him.
"I remember. Should be no problem. You won't be paid for the time you're gone though, just so you know. I already asked and they wanted to know if you were drunk, asking to be paid, and gone, at the same time," Carl said with a grin.
"Can't blame a guy for asking. I call it vacation pay," I said grinning.
"Well, with very few exceptions, the town don't pay someone for not doing something. Maybe the mayor or the town council can get a deal like that. You and me? Forget it," Carl bemoaned.
There was another knock on the door. I raised my eyebrows at this. Hardly anyone ever came to my house. I went and answered the door. It was the water man, asking if I needed more water, yet. I told him to fill 'er up. He and his sons had me topped off in just a couple of minutes, and I paid him for his work. Ten cents. Seemed fair, considering he had a wagon, and he and his boys were out in this cold. Ten cents went a lot farther in 1877.
As the sheriff was getting ready to leave, I put in a final word.
"You be careful, getting Bill Jacobson. He is the most likely person to have killed Sheriff Haydon," I reminded him.
He nodded and left. I made sure the door was shut and got about the business of eating, since I was up. Damn, I had been asleep for only four hours. It was going to be a long day, but I had to get used to being up during daylight hours, again.
It was getting towards dusk, and I fired up the Aladdin Lamp. I had had to refill the reservoir as the lamp used kerosene like a thirsty person drinks water. Still, it gave out a nice bright light. It was a comfort to have a bright light, actually.
I started reading a book I had brought back with me. It was a mystery, and a pretty good one at that. I went to bed around eleven that night, and set my alarm for 5 AM. After tossing and turning a bit, I finally fell asleep.
It had gotten a lot colder during the night. It had to be below zero, out there. I was sure that the sheriff would cancel his trip, but he didn't. I was surprised, considering he had a long ride ahead of him to the 8/H ranch.
The 8/H was actually two ranches. The main ranch was located at the base of the mountain, but the portion the sheriff was visiting for the next few days, was the summer ranch. There were very few cattle up there during winter, I was told. Made sense to me.
The sheriff was bundled up and on the road by 7. It was going to take him about two hours of riding to get to the lower headquarters of the 8/H. I shuddered at the thought of being out in this cold, and silently wished him a good ride.
I made a few rounds during that first day he was gone. There was not much business being done, due to the cold. As a matter of fact, the temperature dropped even more during the day.
I pushed papers around a bit, and then had nothing to do for most of the day. 1877 was a boring time, with none of the modern activities you could engage in for self entertainment.
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