Number Two

Chapter 2-XX

         And God knows, he had tried not to like the worldly things that he had had to do, just to maintain his disguise and hide his true intent.  But, whiskey, well, it just fit the bill some times.  More and more if truth be told.  Tobacco, he could take or leave, the stinking weed. He had yet to find many women that didn’t remind him of one of his sister’s back home. That tended to remove any romantic possibilities. He couldn’t bring himself to visit the ‘doves’, no matter the urge.  His training was just too deep to go that far.  It had caused more than a couple of misunderstandings over the years.

         Nate squeezed his eyes closed for a second, he winced inwardly at his weakness in drinking the rotgut.  But he reached for the empty glass and tipped the bottle into it.  He poured two fingers worth and set the bottle down.  Without any other thought he picked up the glass and tossed the liquor down.  The burn of the raw alcohol washed out the dust of his trip in one swallow.  A searing warmth spread into his stomach. He quickly poured another, just as much and took just one sip.  He signaled the barkeep for service. Nate said, “Maybe I will have a bit of water.  I wonder if you know a place a fellow could stay for a night or two.  One without a lot of noise and bedbugs.”  The barkeep nodded at the request and said as he walked to get the water, “I think I do know a place like that, let me get your water.  I’ll be right back” 

Nate sipped a little more of the whiskey, grimacing at the raw alcohol.  He wondered how many plugs of chewing tobacco they had put in the barrel of white lightning to make it this brown.  He hadn’t known too much about liquor before he had set out on the mission laid on him.  But he had quickly found out that drinking the beer and whiskey was safer than most water outside of his home state. The pure clean mountain water seldom gave you the runs, unlike the city water and water from the brown rivers east of the Rockies.  Upon reflection, he thought, “Maybe this mining camp water ain’t too good either.” 

         The barkeep must have read his mind because he brought a large mug of foaming beer.  He told Nate, “the water wasn’t looking too clean so I thought this would be alright.”  By the way, the name’s Wallace Williams, Wally to you.  Yours?” He winked at the last bit. Nate didn’t want to advertise his presence, but it may be too late, after the incident when he had walked in.  It might not be a good idea to use the name that Wallace had used earlier, so his mind racing, he picked a name that was also a recognition challenge to the contact he was supposed to meet.  He had already used it at the Wells Fargo office  “Ephraim, you can call me Eph.” 

         Nate wondered how this man knew him by sight and he couldn’t place him anywhere in his memories.  Wally hadn’t acted like he recognized the password, so now Nate was a bit confused.  They shook hands again, and Wallace pulled out a scrap of paper from the pocket of his apron and opened an ink bottle on the back bar.  He grabbed a stubby pen with a small nib. He wrote a name and a brief note on the paper, then, said to Nate, “Turn left out the door and go up the street about 100 yards and cross the street. Go through the alley to the back of the buildings and look up the hill. You will see a two story white house about halfway up. A short cut trail starts behind the building.  Other wise you would have to go to one end of town or the other to find a street that goes that way. 

Wally handed the scrap of paper to Nate and waited while he looked it over.  Nate had been suspicious before but now all of his reservations were satisfied.  On the note was a symbol that he immediately recognized.  It had been shown to him three years ago…in Brigham Young’s office.  The symbol, a Hebrew letter, was one of the recognition signs used by the Danites, bodyguard of the Prophet and defenders of the Faith.

         Now, he knew why Wally had known him when he walked into the saloon.  They had made a glass plate photograph that day, three years ago.  Obviously, someone had shown that to Wally.  He read the note and satisfied that he wasn’t being sent into a trap, picked up the glass of whiskey and drained it in one gulp.  Setting the glass down, he grasped the mug of beer and raised it in a salute to Wally and drained the remainder.  Putting the mug down, he asked Wally, “Do you know someone dependable to run an errand for me?”  Wally grinned and replied, “What do you need done?”  Nate pulled a ticket stub out of his pocket, “This is the stub for a black portmanteau down at the Wells Fargo office, have them pick it up and bring it to me at this place.” waving the note to  indicate what he meant.  Wally nodded and took the ticket and called out, “Wally come in here!”  Nate did a double take as a younger version of Wally came out from the back room.  Wally handed the ticket to him and instructed him to do as Nate had asked. “That do for you?” Wally asked through his grin.  Nate nodded and turned to walk towards the batwing doors leading out of the Bucket of Blood, “Keep the change” he said over his shoulder. Wally replied with a twinkle in his eye, “What change?”