"They are not armed," Josiah said smoothly. He gestured to the cowboys. They opened their coats. Not a single man wore a gun belt. "They are witnesses," Josiah continued.
"And they have a story to tell." Gable swallowed hard. He looked around the lobby. Several townspeople had followed them inside. The room was crowded.
"I have no time for stories," Gable said, adjusting his spectacles with a trembling hand. "I am running a business." Josiah stepped forward. He placed his large hands on the edge of the banker's desk. "You were running a business," Josiah corrected.
"Now you are running out of time." Josiah reached into his coat. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it out and laid it flat on the mahogany desk. Gable looked down.
It was a confession. It was signed by the two men who had been on Cora's property the night before. "They were quite eager to talk," Josiah said softly, "especially after Amos offered them a long walk in the snow." Gable's eyes darted toward the door.
"This proves nothing. Men will sign anything if they are frightened. The railroad needs that water. If Mrs. Thornton will not sell, the county will simply seize the land for the public good. The railroad is a powerful entity, Mr. Langden."
"Even you cannot fight progress." Josiah did not raise his voice. He did not need to. "Arthur," Josiah said, "who do you think is paying for the new tracks?" The room went entirely silent.
Gable stared. "What?" "The Northern Line," Josiah said calmly. "It is a very expensive project. The steel comes from Pennsylvania."
"The timber comes from Oregon. The money comes from me." Gable sank slowly back into his leather chair. The twist struck the banker like a physical blow. Josiah Langden was not just a cattleman.
He was the primary shareholder of the incoming railroad. Gable had spent months trying to steal land for a company that Josiah already owned. "You didn't know," Josiah said, his voice carrying a note of genuine pity. "You thought you were being clever. You thought you could force a widow out of her home, buy the land cheap, and sell it to the railroad at a premium."
"But you were trying to sell my own water back to me." Cora stood perfectly still. She had not known this either. Josiah reached into his coat one last time. He pulled out a crisp, heavy document bearing a golden legal seal.
He did not hand it to Gable. He turned and handed it to Cora. "Mrs. Thornton," Josiah said loudly enough for the whole room to hear, "this is a 10-year lease agreement. The Northern Line would like to pay you $600 a year for the right to run a water pipe from your creek to our new station." Cora took the paper.
Her hands shook. Six hundred dollars a year was a fortune. It was more than enough to fix the farm, buy a new herd, and send Nelly to the finest school in the state. "Mr. Langden," Cora whispered, "I don't know what to say." "Say yes," Josiah replied.