Warn Angel! (A Frank Angel Western--Book 9) Read Free Page B

thinking how fast this situation had
developed, snowballed. The non-arrival of the Freedom Train at
Cheyenne. The discovery, almost immediately, that the telegraph
lines between that place and Laramie—from where the Freedom Train
was due—were dead. Then, before the UP officials at Cheyenne had
put together a special train to go up the track to look for the
missing train, Engineer Pat O’Connor had arrived on a lathered
horse and given his account of the fate of the Freedom Train. That
information, together with the text of the letter which the
attorney general now held in his hand, had been telegraphed
instantly to Washington.
     
    General U.S. Grant, President of the United
States.
    Sir,
    My men and I have captured the Freedom
Train. We are holding it presently at Sweetwater Cut, Wyoming
Territory, where both its personnel and its contents remain safe.
The price of its release is $250,000. This sum, in used currency of
denominations no larger than fifty dollars, is to be sent to a
destination I shall designate upon receipt of your agreement to my
terms, which should be forthcoming no later than 48 hours after
your receipt of this message. If I have received no such agreement
by midnight, Tuesday, October 3, the Freedom Train and its contents
will be destroyed and all its personnel executed. Lest you be
misguided enough to consider armed action of any kind in relief of
the train, I would advise you to first consult the Army
Topographical Corps for details of the configurations of the
Sweetwater Cut and the impossibility of attacking it in any way
which would preclude my executing the destruction of the train. The
army map grid-references are Sheet 154A/2 North 1422/ West 45. I
enclose a bona-fide.
    Your obedient servant,
    George Willowfield
     
    ‘ What was the bona-fide?’ the attorney
general asked.
    Grant gestured at the sheet of
paper in a sandwich between two pieces of glass which lay upon his
desk: the flowery script plainly gave the title of the poem, The Star Spangled
Banner.
    ‘ Someone from the Library of Congress
is coming to pick it up later,’ Grant grunted.
    ‘ Ah, yes,’ smiled his visitor. ‘I
imagine they would.’
    Grant leaned forward in his chair now, his
brow knotted in anger, using his cigar in jabbing emphasis of his
points.
    ‘ I won’t have it, Charles!’ he
growled. ‘It’s not on. I won’t have some goddamned renegade holding
the United States of America to ransom!’
    The attorney general said nothing.
    ‘ Oh, I know what you’re thinking,’
Grant said. ‘You think I’m worried about my reputation, more mud to
throw at the Party just before the election. It’s not that, I
assure you. There’s a principle involved. I’d rather order the
entire goddamned army into the field than knuckle under to this …
this scum, whoever he is. Send them out and tell them to take him
and hang him to the nearest goddamned tree they can
find!’
    ‘ I know how you must feel, Mr.
President,’ the attorney general said, ‘but we don’t dare use
force. If he actually carried out his threat to destroy the train …
Did you speak with the Topographical Corps?’
    ‘ Yes, dammit!’ snarled Grant, slapping
the desk in his impatience. ‘They confirmed what this, this
Willowfield claims. No way of even getting close to that damned
train without being spotted. Two men could hold Sweetwater Cut
against a hundred.’
    ‘ Yes,’ the attorney general said.
‘This Willowfield gives every indication of having planned his raid
down to the smallest detail. I think we must send word that we
accept.’
    Grant looked up, his expression
mule-stubborn. His gaze locked with the level eyes of the attorney
general and then dropped. The angry light in his eyes faded and he
shrugged, pressing a bell on his desktop. The double doors opened
and one of his aides came in.
    ‘ Get a clear line through to the
United States marshal in Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory,’ Grant said,
speaking slowly, as if every word was