Presently Scot left the bedside and sat down on the arm of a big chair. “How’s Piodie, Hugh?”
“One live camp,” the younger brother answered. “Plenty of room for us there. We can put an outfit in and get all the teaming we want. One objection is that the Dodsons run the camp.”
“Run it how?”
“Own the biggest store, the stamp mills, a controlling interest in the best producing mines, the stage line, half the town site, and the sheriff.”
“Anything else?” asked Scot with a dry smile.
“A bunch of thugs and the courts. Our old friend Sam Dutch is their handy man.”
“Did you see Dutch?”
“We met,” Hugh answered briefly. “I bumped into Jim Budd and Dan Byers, too. They’re runnin’ a feed corral there. We located a bunch of prospects together. I wrote you about that.”
“Yes.”
“Took up one in yore name.”