He was in Quincy but he wasn’t about to greet the good Major. From the comfort of a chair in front of George Castle’s Feed Store Zack had an excellent view of the Wells Fargo Office. He had been sitting there for two hours when the distant rattle of the trace chains on the incoming stage drew his attention. Zack was pleased because it was noon and his stomach was beginning to complain. Although he was lucky the stage was only two hours late.

     George Castle stepped to the door. “Here comes your morning stage Mr. Morgan.” George slowly drawled. “ It seems to be a little early today; with old Sam Garner driving the Friday morning stage it can be as much eight hours late. It was never that way when Henry Cooper was the man on the lines.”

     Zack remained in his chair and watched the dust swirl as the stage rumbled past. “Yah, George.” Zack drew in a heavy breath. “It seems the good things never last.”

     George didn’t reply but he nodded his agreement and watched the dust settle around the stage.

     Sam Garner the driver climbed on top of the coach and was getting ready to send down a box to Ernie Gavan the Wells Fargo agent.

     Zack and George were five buildings from the coach and couldn’t hear what was said between Sam and Ernie. They were able to see the man in a dark blue Army uniform step from the coach and look around.

     “That must be your Army man.” George softly stated.

     Quincy was a small town by eastern standards and it was nearly impossible to keep a secret.

     “Looks that way, George.”

     “You goina go get him?”

     “He’s the one that wants me, I don’t want him. Maybe he needs to learn that.”

     George chuckled and leaned against the door jam. “This might get good, think I’ll stick around.”

     Major Monroe was confused. He had sent a telegram stating when he would arrive in Quincy, so why wasn’t this Morgan person here to greet him. He looked in all directions and seen no one that was giving him any attention.

     “I say there,” he said to the man helping unload the stage, “can you tell me where I might find Zack Morgan?”

     Ernie set the box on the boardwalk then gave the man in the Army uniform a good once over. He decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell him where to go. “Well, no but you could start over at the Empire Hotel. He keeps a room there or he might be over there eating. He could be over to his toll road, checking on thing over there.” Ernie pointed toward the Bristol Mountains. “Truthfully mister he could be just about anywhere.” Ernie picked up the box and went into his office.

     Major Monroe was flabbergasted; he wasn’t used to this type of treatment. He had been born into a wealthy family and his father had chosen a military career for him. He had spent his life having people bend over backwards to obey his slightest whim. Now this backwoods bumpkin treats him like this. The least this Well Fargo employee could have done was find this Morgan person for him.

     “Hey you.”

     The voice came from above him and he looked up. It was that rude fellow that drove the stage. Every time he complained of the rough ride he would speed up.

     “Stand clear unless you’re goina catch your bags.”

     Major Monroe was appalled. “What? You are going to toss my baggage to the ground? I should say not.”

     Sam’s chuckle held a devilish tone; he had seen these eastern popping jays before. “Shut your yap and stand clear.” He tossed the first bag which landed with a thud on the boardwalk. It was followed quickly by a second and a third. “I ain’t never seen one man with so much baggage. If I didn’t know better I’d say you was a woman.” This was the end of Sam’s run so he plopped onto the seat and headed the team to a well earned rest in the livery; he had pushed them far too hard but only because this fool never shut up complaining about the rough ride.

     Major Monroe stood wondering what to do; he had no one to give an order to.

     Zack dropped the front legs of his chair to the boardwalk, he had seen enough. “See you later George, I’m getting hungry.” He slowly wandered of toward the Empire.

     His usual table at the Empire was open so he sat by the window and watched. When Mille Barken came to take his order he smiled and asked for the local trout. His smile wasn’t for Mille, she was married and ten years his junior; Zack seen Major Monroe struggling up the street with his own bags.

     On the window ledge was a paper, Zack picked it up. It was the Denver Post and only four days old. He began to read and didn’t hear the minor commotion in the hotel lobby.

     Zack had managed to read most of an article about the high cost of Kansas wheat when he was rudely interrupted.

     “Are you Zachary Morgan?”

     Zack looked up into the angry face of Major Malcom Monroe “If it is any of your business, yes and whatever you are peddling, I want none of it. Now your business with me is finished, you may take the eastbound stage in the morning.”

     Major Monroe had no idea what to say, he tried to speak but was unable. He had never been set aside in such a manner. Finally he drew a deep breath and blurted out. “I have orders.”

     “And those orders include me?”

     Now the Major was back on firm ground. “Yes sir.”

     “Then dispense with your orders and leave.”

     “But Mr. Morgan.”

     “But what?” Zack snapped angrily.

     Zack’s attitude only confused the Major more. He decided to retreat. “My commanding officer General Whitfield in Washington City has sent me to ask if you would be interested in heading a survey party.” This man made Malcom feel just like a small child.

     Zack gazed unseeingly out the window for several long seconds then focused his attention on the Major. “Very well Major you have disposed of your orders. You may get a room and prepare to return east in the morning. I will meet you here for breakfast and give you my response for you General.”

     The small child and the military officer in Malcom Monroe turned him from the table leading him to the front desk where he meekly asked for a room for the night and a bath.

     Since the completion of his road down the sheer face of the southern Bristol Mountains he had become somewhat famous and with that came a price. So many of the world’s influential and powerful people wanted him to do for them. When Zack finished his road he had vowed he would never work for another man again. As far as money was concerned he didn’t need to work. He had income from his road plus the profits of his Seattle warehouses and the hotel he owned in Milwaukee, not to mention his saw mill. All he needed was something to keep his mind busy and once in a while a challenge didn’t hurt.

     Zack’s trout came and he ate without noticing then he went to his room and sat in thought most of the afternoon. At dinner that evening his mind was still befuddled and he was working on that confusion when Major Monroe came into the room.

     Zack smiled and waved for the Major to come sit with him. This gesture bolstered the Major’s courage. He stood at Zack’s table waiting for a waiter to seat him but none came so he finally seated himself.

     His tone had regained much of its natural snobbery. “The servants here in the west are deplorable.”

     “That’s because we don’t find a need for servants. Out here a man does his own work.” Zack added a touch of sarcasm to his tone. “Major you came here to deliver a message. I feel it was a wasted trip for you although I am a bit curious as to what kind of survey party your General wishes me to lead.”

     “Mr. Morgan there is currently one quick way for the Army to move troops to the Pacific Coast in a time of need and that terminus is in San Francisco. That is fine if the troops were need there but what if they were needed in the Northwest? There is currently no rapid way to that end. General Whitfield and the rest of the commanding staff would like you to lead a party of private surveyors and seek out a northern route for a railroad. Your beginning point would be at a place called Great Falls in Montana and the ending point would be in Seattle.”

     Major Monroe’s little talk had placed Zack’s thinking in a new light. The project at hand would be completed by private industry but the real purpose behind it was the nation’s security. Zack knew he would have a long restless night.

     “Thank you Major. I will reconsider and speak with you later.” He pushed away from the table and walked away, leaving a very confused Malcom Monroe at the table.

     At the front desk he stopped and spoke to the man behind the counter. “Send up a bottle of Scotch then send a man to find my friends Charlie Whiskers and Laredo Morton.”

     “Yes sir.”

     The deskman knew the request for the whisky and he knew the men Zack asked for. The Scotch was Mr. Morgan’s preferred drink and the two men were his close friends, helpers and almost partners.

     Charlie and Laredo had been with Zack from the beginning. They had been through these sudden get-togethers before and they knew better then to leave the area without telling Zack. So they knew what to expect when they received the word of a summons to Zack’s room.

     Laredo was at Zack’s door when Charlie reached the second floor landing. “Hold that door youngster.” Charlie looked as old as he sounded but he was as tough as a bucket full of nails. No one but Charlie knew his last name so he became known as Charlie Whiskers because of his gray beard that was tucked into the third button space on his shirt. Charlie knew his prospecting days were over long before Zack found him and put him on the payroll as an all around handyman.

     “Hurry up you old goat.” Laredo replied.

     Laredo Morton was much younger, he had been a cowboy and broncbuster until a bad horse put an end to those days. When Zack found him he was doing any job that came his way and just getting by.

     Zack knew the quality that was in each man and didn’t care to lose either. He didn’t mind paying them to do nothing as long as they were there when he called.

     Charlie hurried along but sloshed a little beer from the bucket he was carrying. “Damn.”

     Laredo laughed and shook the bottle of who-hit-john he carried. “See I’ve been telling you that you drink the wrong stuff.”

     “I’ll learn you a thing or two about drinking.” Charlie angrily replied and shoved the laughing Laredo through the door.

     For these meetings each man had his preferred place in Zack’s room. Zack was already seated in a winged chair next to a large round claw foot table. On the table was a short glass with his bottle of Scotch.

     Charlie took his seat next to the window so he could see out and set his bucket of beer on the floor.

     Laredo sat on the bed and removed his boots. On the night table next to the bed was a short glass. Once Laredo leaned back on the bed the meeting began.

     “I guess you found some project you want to do?” Laredo asked with a little curious tone.

     “No.” Zack replied flatly and poured the Scotch.

     “I knew it,” Charlie burst out, “he hasn’t had the itchy foot. So what is it, Boss?”

     Zack sipped his Scotch and explained about the telegram and Major Monroe.

     Charlie dipped his cup into the bucket of beer and drank deep. “I heard there was some highfalutin hoydetoyde Army fella struttin around.”

     “Well he isn’t your worry; he is headed back to Washington on the morning stage. What I need to know from you is, do either of you know a thing about Montana?”

     Both men shook their head in silence and Zack was just a little disappointed but he figured neither man had been there.

     “I know its good cattle country.” Laredo finally added.

     “Where we would be going there would be no cattle, only cold and snow and lots of up, there will always be an up to the hills and very little down.”

     “I guess you know they have a few hard rock mines up that way.” Charlie recalled.

     Zack nodded. “Yes but we’re not likely to see any of them.”

     The night aged as the beer, whiskey and Scotch became less. Around four in the morning when the night was black and silent Zack removed his coat and boots then lay on the bed next to an already snoring Laredo. Charlie had rolled his boots in his vest and was using them as a pillow on the carpet in the far corner.

     As always Charlie was the first awake. He guessed it was nearing eight in the morning. He slapped Laredo on the foot. “Get up you lazy son of a store keep.”

     Laredo only curled into a tighter ball. “Go stick your head in a gopher hole old man.”

     All the noise woke Zack who looked at the window to guess the time. He put two hands in Laredo’s back and shoved. Laredo landed with a heavy thud on the carpeted floor.

     “Hey that’s no way to treat your best man.”

     “It is if he’s the last out of the bunk.”

     Charlie stood with a wide grin and chuckled.

     Zack quickly washed and put on a clean dark gray suit. “Come on, we’re late for breakfast and I’ll buy.”

     There were no objections and in the dining room of the Empire they found Major Monroe waiting. Zack looked at him and surmised that he had once again found his arrogance. Zack chuckled inside, it was so easy to knock this man’s pins from under him and it looked to be time to do just that.

     Zack assumed a pose in front of the Major. “Major this is Charlie Whiskers and Laredo Morton. If I take on this project they will be number two and three in charge.”

     The stunned expression on Major Monroe’s face was almost laughable. He started to speak but Zack cut him off sharply.

     “I assume you are packed and ready to return east. The eastbound stage originates from Quincy and will leave at ten sharp, be on it.”

     “But.” Malcom Monroe stammered.

     “You may leave now, Major.”

     Major Monroe slowly stood and took three strides.

     “Major.” Zack called.

     The Major turned his eyes vacant. “Yes?”

     “I have some orders for your General. Instruct him that if I take on this project, you are not to be near it as well as any other military man or politician. If I even suspect one is within fifty miles I’ll walk off. Is that understood?”

     “Yes, but he is a General. You can’t give orders to a General.”

     “I just did and you better deliver them or I’ll see you made into a Captain.”

     They watched a very deflated Major Monroe leave the room.

     Charlie grinned. “Well gentlemen shell we eat? I’m hungry enough to eat the north end out of a south bound skunk.”