Chapter 29
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Hirst-Chichagof Mine—Klag Bay, AK
Joe twisted the cap of the flask in his jacket pocket back and forth as the walls of the mining office closed in around him.
The office was a small, slipshod clapboard structure—obviously just thrown together to keep the weather out.
A scarred wooden table sat in the middle with three metal chairs, and a small desk was crowded into the corner next to some filing cabinets.
An iron woodstove stood near the door with a rolling fire inside.
The incessant slamming of the stamp mill hammers crushing ore reverberated inside Joe’s skull and made it hard to think. He pulled cotton out of his pocket and stuffed it into his ears.
It didn’t help.
He needed to get Sam under control.
“You gotta get me outta this, Joe.” Sam wiped a finger across the corner of his mouth, glanced at the door, and leaned forward, looking Joe in the eye.
“The company’s onto somethin, I can sense it.
’’ His intense whisper was muffled by the cotton in Joe’s ears but still clearly audible over the din of the mill.
He looked toward the door again. “That security check three weeks ago wasn’t no coincidence, and I nearly got caught with the gold on me. If you hadn’t been here…”
Joe waved his hand in dismissal. “If I hadn’t been around that day, Sam, you wouldna had no gold on you for them to check. Probably just a standard inspection.”
Sam leaned farther forward, grabbing the edge of the desk. “Nothin routine about it. They searched everyone’s bunks, belongings; they lined us up and patted us down, for Chrissakes. If I’d still had that bag on me…”
Joe leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. The stamp mill pounded away.
He reached a hand into his pocket and caressed the cool, smooth metal of his flask.
“But you didn’t have no bag, Sam. Keep your cool, all right?
It’s been, what, almost a month? If they suspected anything fishy, they wouldna let it slide like that. ”
Sam didn’t calm down. His knuckles went white, gripping the desk.
“Nah, Joe, you don’t understand!” His voice boomed.
Joe was afraid it would carry outside even over the racket of the mill.
“Them pencil pushers, they come storming in here with their adding machines, poking around them books for hours. Heard em muttering about things not adding up, saying it just don’t jibe.
Once those number crunchers sink their teeth into a problem, ain’t no letting go.
If there’s a single cent out of line, mark my words, they’ll sniff it out. Ticking clock till they do.”
“Sam, don’t worry. I got it handled.” Joe’s teeth stuck to the dry insides of his cheeks as he spoke.
“I’ve been meticulous, making sure the accounts line up.
There was a tiny hiccup a few weeks back when my rowboat went under and I lost my ledger.
They won’t discover any discrepancies on our end.
If there’s a mismatch in the books, it’s on them. ”
Sam got up and began pacing, his hands in his pockets.
“Listen, Joe. We’ve made a good haul, and we should have plenty to get us started on something new.
More cash won’t do us any favors behind bars.
Besides, I need something to go back to.
I just want my cut, and I’m done. You should cash out too. ”
“All right, Sam. I get it.” Joe held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll have a chat with our partner. We’ll liquidate the bank account and ensure you get your cut. It’ll take some time; we can’t just shuffle that kind of money without drawing some eyes.”
“Take some time?” Sam sat back down, reached into his jacket, and produced a burlap bag. “I been askin for two weeks now. What’s the holdup?” Sam’s voice pitched higher the more he spoke. “My wife is shacked up with some soldier back in Oklahoma. I need to go get my life back,” he whisper-wailed.
Joe scooted his chair closer to the table, trying to sound more commanding. “Gotcha, Sam. I’ll handle it. Just hang tight.” He dropped the gold from Sam into his boot. “No need to rush and mess things up here at the finish line.”
“You keep pushing this and we’re all gonna get caught,” Sam said, his eyes darting back and forth from Joe to the door. “Well, except Mr. No Name—I guess he gets off scot-free since nobody knows who he is.”
The notion of Fellows avoiding capture made Joe chuckle. “If anyone gets nabbed, it’ll be that fool parading around Sitka dressed up like a damn dandy in that three-piece suit with his fancy watch and alligator briefcase.”
Sam lowered his voice, “Alligator…What? Where the hell did he get—”
“No idea.” Joe gathered his things to leave. “Don’t wanna know.”
“You better stick to your word, Joe.” Sam stood up.
“If I walk away without my cut, I’m blowing the lid off this whole operation.
You and Mr. Dandy will be the ones facing the consequences.
I’ll be left with nothing, and you’ll have a shady bank account you can’t explain.
I want my share of the loot by the end of the week. I’m dead serious, Joe.”