Read Online Giving Up the Ghost by Max McCoy - Free Book Online

me?”
    â€œTo give you my thanks, of course,” Strong said. His left hand rested on the table, and with his fingertips he was gently turning the cup on its saucer. Still, he made no move to actually drink the tea.
    â€œThat would be pleasant,” I said.
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œMeaning I am still waiting.”
    He cleared his throat.
    â€œI am grateful.”
    â€œYou’re welcome,” I said.
    â€œOf course, we should discuss the matter of your reward. Thirty dollars should be sufficient. Mr. Delaney, please gather the required funds.”
    â€œYes, sir,” the boy said. He placed a cash box on the table, unlocked it with a key on his watch chain, and rummaged inside. “Um, I’m afraid our expenses in New Mexico were rather higher than expected. There are no gold eagles left. I have only greenbacks . . . no, wait. I have silver dollars.”
    â€œThirty silver dollars?”
    â€œYou would be required to sign the customary agreement,” Strong said.
    â€œAgreement?”
    â€œA simple contract,” Delaney said. “That you would keep your dealings with the railway confidential, including anything you may have witnessed tonight, from the time you set foot in our depot to, well, now.”
    â€œFor how long would this silence last?”
    â€œIt would be irrevocable.”
    Slowly, I sipped my tea.
    â€œFor thirty pieces of silver.”
    â€œYes,” Delaney said.
    â€œGentlemen,” I said. “I must decline.”
    Strong harrumphed.
    â€œThe biblical allusion alone is enough to make me wary,” I said. “But the promise of silence is simply unacceptable. I have made my career chronicling the otherworldly things that intrude upon our otherwise rational lives, and I have the feeling that taking your thirty dollars would prevent me from pursuing a line of inquiry that promises to be personally more satisfying.”
    â€œWhat could be more satisfying than money?” Strong demanded.
    â€œWhere on the list do I begin?” I asked. “Love and friendship and creativity and learning. Helping troubled souls with unfinished business. Prairie dogs. Solving a mystery.”
    I finished my tea, then carefully placed my cup on its saucer.
    â€œMiss Wylde,” Strong said. “There is no mystery here, only superstition.”
    I took a ten-cent piece from my vest and placed it on the table.
    â€œWhat’s that?” he asked.
    â€œFor the tea,” I said. “Just so that there is no misunderstanding. We are square.”

5
    It was a short walk back to Dodge, where I found the westbound freight safely on the siding beside the depot, and Doc McCarty waiting for me on the platform. He was sitting on a bench, legs stretched and ankles crossed, hands behind his head. Beside him on the bench was the telegraph key that had started the trouble.
    â€œEarp spoke to you?”
    â€œBriefly,” McCarty said. “Enough to set me at ease that you were safe.”
    I motioned toward the train on the siding.
    â€œAny trouble?”
    â€œIt required some persuasion,” he said. “The engine driver relented just in time, because not two minutes after the freight was sided, a dark train flew past on the main line.”
    â€œWe saw it as well.”
    â€œMackie and the freight crew were badly frightened,” McCarty said. “They did not expect it, nor did they recognize it. Some said it was a ghost train, and swore it was crewed by the dead.”
    â€œIt seemed solid enough to me,” I said. “It very nearly struck us, and had that occurred, I’m sure I would be quite solidly dead. Did you get a good look at the interloper?”
    â€œIt was dark and fast and silent,” he said. “Its appearance was disquieting, but I saw no indication of any spectral hands on the throttle or brake.”
    â€œAnd the telegraph lines?”
    â€œStill clogged with gibberish,” he said.
    I