The Great Alone (90 page)

Although that was a complaint Glory had heard from more than one prospector who had been at it a year like Justin, this time it seemed more an attempt to make it sound as if her share wouldn’t amount to very much. He had gladly taken anything she wanted to give him, and he didn’t seem to think he owed her anything in return—not even his loyalty.

Deacon had tried to warn her, but she hadn’t wanted to see. She had thought—What had she thought? That Justin loved her? That she loved him? She didn’t know any more. She felt like such a fool. It was a repeat of Skagway, and Justin was about to run out on her again.

Justin continued to talk, but Glory stopped listening. She resisted the urge to tell him that his poor helpless widow, Sarah Porter, wasn’t as pure and lily-white as he believed her to be. She was hardly able to manage a civil good-bye to him when she dropped him off at his beach claim.

Back at the Palace, Glory informed the bartender Paddy that if Justin Sinclair ever came in again he was to pay for any food or drink he ordered, and she instructed him to notify everyone else of the change. Deacon stood there listening to every word, but Glory was much too proud to openly admit that he’d been right all along. Instead, she walked past him without saying a word and went straight to her room, not even bothering to look in on Gladys.

The mail lay on the bed where she’d left it. For a moment Glory stared at the ripped-open envelope from her father, Gabe Blackwood—the man who had used and abused her mother, then taken her money and deserted her, the same way Justin had planned to do with her. It was time men like that were taught a lesson and made to suffer the way her mother had—and the way she had. Glory had never thought she had a vindictive bone in her body, but she did. She vowed to make them pay for what they’d done.

She picked up the envelope and took out the letter. First she skimmed its handwritten contents, then read it again, more slowly.

My dearest Glory,

By the time you receive this, I shall probably have set sail for Nome. I have booked passage on the steamship
Senator,
which should arrive at Nome in the middle of July.

You have probably heard that Congress has at last passed legislation that allows for the creation of municipal governments in communities with a population of three hundred or more. There were many heated debates over the passage of this amendment which necessitated the delay in my return. But I am pleased to say my lobbying efforts were successful, even though the language of the bill does not contain all that we sought.

I have much to tell you, but I fear I have neither the time nor the space to write it all. Suffice it to say, I shall be sailing with the newly appointed federal judge for Alaska’s second district, Arthur H. Noyes; the federal district attorney, Joseph K. Wood; and another influential man from North Dakota, Alexander Mackenzie. He is the president of the Alaska Gold Mining Company, and a truly dynamic individual.

I look forward with eagerness to enjoying the pleasure of your delightful company again. So many exciting things are on the horizon. Soon I will be there to share all the wonderful news with you. Until then, I remain—

Most sincerely yours,

G. Blackwood

Even though he hadn’t received the appointment to the new judgeship that he had coveted, he was riding high, expecting better things in store for him. And that’s just the way Glory wanted it.

CHAPTER XLIX

It was bedlam on the beach. Thousands of tons of freight were stacked along the waterfront, stretching from the very edge of the tide-licked sands back to the bench and for two miles along the shoreline. It was all cargo unloaded from the ships anchored in the roadstead several miles off the coast. Machinery of every description was piled on the beach, from printing presses to monstrous gold-extracting contraptions guaranteed by their makers to dredge the gold from the sand or the sea floor. Pianos, bar fixtures, stoves, sewing machines, and buggies intermingled with thousands of board feet of lumber, tons of coal and grain, crates of canned goods, and other provisions and supplies. Adding to the mass of cargo was the luggage—steamer trunks and duffels belonging to the passengers from the ships.

Once an owner was successful in locating the goods belonging to him, there was still the problem of getting it off the beach. Horse-drawn freight wagons hauled much of it. The lighter loads were pulled by six to twelve dogs harnessed in tandem to a small wagon. The heavier items were usually loaded on lighters—a barge type of conveyance—then towed offshore by steam- or gasoline-driven launches.

The result was an ear-deafening chaos. Shouts of “Gee!” “Haw!” “Giddy-up thare!” “Whoa!” “Mush!” mingled with the cracking of whips and the cursing of the drivers. Dog fights were constantly erupting to add their snarls and growls and yips to the reigning noise, while the surf continued its battering of the coast. Occasionally, it was all drowned by the chugging roar of a passing launch. Adding to the cacophony were the whistles from the vessels anchored well off the coast. A ship signaled its arrival in Nome with several loud blasts, and every ship in the roadstead responded in kind.

At the moment, it appeared there was a veritable armada poised off the coast of Nome. That morning the whistles had heralded the arrival of the steamship
Senator.
As soon as Glory had received word the ship was in port, she had driven the buggy out to the beach to await the disembarking passengers, knowing that Gabe Blackwood would be among them.

She sat in the shade of the buggy’s roof, out of the broiling sun, and watched the slow approach of the lighter. As always, its flat top was jammed with people. In that crowd, it was impossible to recognize anyone. Carried by the waves, the bargelike vessel drifted toward the shore and ran aground several yards short of the beach. Some of the passengers were fortunate enough to have on rubber boots, but the rest had to wade ashore in their shoes unless an obliging fellow passenger agreed to carry them on his back.

Glory recognized Gabe Blackwood the instant he hopped into the water. “Oliver.” Leaning forward, she called to the burly ex-fighter standing by the buggy horse’s head. “Mr. Blackwood is coming ashore now. Please tell him I’m here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He bowed to her, then set off to plow his way through the stream of arriving passengers already ashore.

From her vantage point atop the buggy seat, Glory was able to observe Oliver meeting Gabe—and the man who appeared to be with him. He was tall—several inches taller than Gabe—and, even at this distance, there was something imposing about him. Glory wondered which of the three men Gabe had mentioned in his letter this one might be. Perhaps, the judge. Gabe looked in her direction and waved. Glory waved back.

Parting the way for them, Oliver led Gabe and his companion to the buggy. As they approached, Glory noticed the changes in Gabe. There was a stark contrast between the man she saw now and the one she’d met a little over a year ago. His hair and chin beard were whiter. Instead of the shabby, ill-fitting suit, he now had on a single-breasted sack suit of navy wool flannel with alternating stripes of gray and blue. The pearl-gray fedora hat he wore was made from a good quality felt and banded with grosgrain silk two inches wide. But it was more than his outward appearance that signified the change in him. The confidence he exuded now no longer came from a bottle.

“My dear, what a delightful surprise,” he declared, stepping up to the buggy and taking the gloved hand she extended to him. “I didn’t expect you to be waiting here for me.”

“You’ve been gone so long, surely you didn’t believe I’d not be here to welcome you back to Nome.”

“A man of my age does not dare presume such things,” he said, then appeared to remember his companion from the ship, and turned, directing her attention to him. “Allow me to introduce Mr. Alexander Mackenzie, the president and general manager of the Alaska Gold Mining Company, who will be setting up his offices here in Nome. Mr. Mackenzie, Miss Glory St. Clair. She and her partner own the Palace, one of the finer establishments in Nome.”

The face-to-face meeting reinforced her first impression of the man. Over six feet tall with thick shoulders and a portly build, Alexander Mackenzie had a commanding presence. His dark eyes were hard, but not in the same way that Deacon’s were. With Deacon, it was more an absence of any emotional expression. With Mackenzie, it was a calculating coldness. He was clean-shaven except for the dark, full mustache that virtually concealed his mouth. He carried his head high, with his chin thrust forward as if daring anyone to take a swipe at it. Glory had the distinct feeling that this man was not only aggressively ambitious but that he could also be ruthless.

“Welcome to Nome, Mr. Mackenzie.”

“Thank you.” He touched the brim of his hat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss St. Clair.”

“I wish you luck finding office space here, Mr. Mackenzie,” she said. “When you can find it, it’s at a premium. A closet-sized space will cost you sixty dollars a month, and that’s without heat, light, or a janitor. You’re lucky if the walls are plastered. Nome has become very crowded.”

“Your counsel is well taken, Miss St. Clair, but I’m sure I’ll find something to suit me.” His confidence was almost scary.

“I must admit that from the deck of the ship it appeared that the entire beachfront was blanketed with snow,” Gabe said. “When we drew closer to shore, I realized it was tents. We had heard that thousands had come, but the enormity of it didn’t really hit me until now.”

“The beach is nothing compared to the congestion downtown. It’s packed with people.” Glory paused and let her glance slide to Mackenzie. “I have to confess that when I first saw you with Mr. Blackwood, I thought you might be the new judge. I understood he would be arriving on the
Senator.
”

“Judge Noyes was feeling slightly indisposed after the lengthy sea voyage. He decided to remain in his stateroom aboard the ship for a day or two.”

“I’m glad to know he has arrived. I know how anxious Mr. Blackwood has been to bring his many cases before a judge so these disputes over ownership of mining claims can finally be settled.”

“Yes, Mr. Blackwood and I have discussed the cases of several of his clients,” Mackenzie stated.

But there had been more than just discussions, Glory learned later that day when she had an opportunity to talk privately with Gabe. He had agreed to turn over his fifty percent contingent fee interest in his claim-jumping cases to Mackenzie in return for stock in the Alaska Gold Mining Company, which had an authorized capital of fifteen million dollars. Another Nome law firm had entered into a similar agreement, Gabe said, then confided that Mackenzie had said he “owned” Judge Noyes and the new federal district attorney. While Glory was skeptical that anyone—even Alexander Mackenzie—had that much power over federal appointees, she didn’t voice her doubts to Gabe.

A short two days later, she discovered how wrong she was. An attorney from the other law firm went before the new judge and asked for an injunction on behalf of his client against several of the original and richest claims filed by the Scandinavians, illegally according to him. The judge not only granted the injunction against Jafet Lindeberg’s Discovery claim and several other highly productive claims, but he also named the Alaska Gold Mining Company as the receiver until the ownership issue was settled through a litigation process. He further ordered that all personal property on the premises be confiscated, including any recovered gold, and that Mackenzie post a five-thousand-dollar surety bond per mine. And it was all accomplished within minutes—with no opposition from the original claimants or their counsel. It seems someone failed to inform them the request was being brought before the new judge.

After granting the injunction and appointing the receivership, Judge Noyes adjourned the court. Mackenzie had wagons of men waiting outside. They raced out of Nome and took possession of most of the major mining claims on gold-rich Anvil Creek.

Nome buzzed with the news. Mackenzie had not only evicted the miners and taken possession of the mining equipment, gold dust, and nuggets, but he also intended to work the claims. Some claimed Mackenzie hadn’t even posted the required bond. Most believed the five-thousand-dollar bond was a farce anyway. Miners had been taking fifteen thousand dollars in gold
a day
out of the Discovery claim.

That night, it was practically the only subject discussed at the Palace. While many had wanted the claims of the so-called foreigners thrown out, most thought the judge had given Mackenzie a license to steal. They doubted there would be any gold left by the time the ownership issue was decided. Everywhere Glory went, the talk was the same. She stopped to watch a high-stakes poker game with a large pot of chips in the middle of the table.

“I heard Jafet’s lawyers never got a chance to argue their side,” one of the men said. “After they found out he’d lost control of his claims, they tried to see the judge, but he wasn’t available.” The man tossed in a stack of chips and added an almost disinterested “I’ll see your raise.”

“Yeah, and you know why the judge wasn’t available?” The next player flipped over his cards, indicating he was folding, then supplied the answer to his own question. “The judge conveniently left for St. Michael. Word is he won’t be back for two weeks or more.”