The Journal of Robert Cassidy (April 9-10)

Tuesday April 9, 1875; Independence, MO
For a boom town in the wild, Independence is big. It’s a town with a purpose: equipping wagon trains with their supplies and turning a tidy profit.

The day started early; Malachai and I started lining up supplies for the follow up wagons, making good use of our new found wealth. We went from shop to shop, turning over more and more credit from the letter over to the merchants, until it was finally exhausted at near day’s end.

We started our day planning for the followup wagons to set out in a couple of weeks, but when we talked to the teamsters, they worried about cutting so close to the winter snows. We could understand that concern and asked if they could by ready to ride in two days. They said they’d get back to us tonight.

We continued around, comparing prices and rubbing our dimes together. The doc had some detailed requests– laudanum, chloroform, ether and a special acid. They had to be packed real careful– it’s all in bottles that break easy.

Malachai had to lay in a lot of supplies for his trail hands– in bulk, they’re eating a mountain on the way. They’re a father and son, both escaped from slavery. A damn shame the way they were treated at home, but they didn’t find the Union all open arms either. They’re eager to scoot along to the sea ’cause while they aren’t in chains, they ain’t treated as real men either. Out in the west, they can prove themselves by the sweat of their brow, they hope. They seem nice enough, but papa Issiah has pride– you can tell he’s not gonna let himself get clapped in chains ever again. Not just the two of them are makin’ the journey– Jessee, the boy who helped Malachai on the first leg of the cattle drive, is comin’ along too.

We had a revelation in the middle of the afternoon, when we paused in our busy buying. We took ourselves to the wagons and tracked down Doc Brown. He drew us up some papers establishing Green Springs Mercantile. We all have equal shares and it’s all inked out.

In the evening, we went back to the teamsters. They agreed to set off with us in two days, so that introduces a new problem– we still have to talk the preachers into letting the menagerie come with us.

Malachai went into town to drink and play tickle with some ladies; I can’t leave my wagon alone, undefended at night. We’ve already seen those tinkers and the lawlessness on the way– only a fool would trust providence to keep his goods safe. So I’m bedding down in the wagon– tomorrow’s gonna be another busy day.

Wednesday April 10, 1875; Independence, MO
So, with the time to load and go comin’ up so quick, Malachai and I got the team hitched up and met the teamsters. They drove around to the spots where we purchased things yesterday, while we talked to the merchants and got the last of the items set aside.

We went to the bank and got the money for the second bar; in coin of all sizes up to twenty dollar gold coins. (That was James’ idea– paper don’t spend too far on the frontier he says.) The banker, Malachai’s friend, had to sweat a bit to lay hands on all that coin, but he made more than a hundred dollars for his efforts– not bad for a couple day’s work.

I let the others leave and told them where I’d catch up with them. Then I talked to the banker friend about getting money into the CSA. It sounds like they do it all the time– no sweat. So I gave him Pa’s name and address and sent him $250 for taxes– Richmond’s been graspin’ recently, and he needs every bit he can arrange. I opened an account and deposited the biggest balance I’ve ever had, $450. Now if I come back with the wagon for more supplies next year, or if I have to turn back on the trail– hell, even if a bandit riffles through my clothes, or leaves me for dead, I can make a life again as soon as I get to Independence.

In the afternoon we introduced the Mercantile to the preachers; we didn’t quite say exactly who the investors were, but told the preachers that they’d approached us because of the well disciplined organization and godly purpose. That smoothed things and they were welcome to follow along, but need to mind themselves like the rest of us. They agreed, and that looks bright.

Then Malachai introduced his two black boys; after some hemming and hawing the preachers got the stick outta their craw and welcomed them. (Though there was a sense that they should stick to the Malachai’s fire as much as possible– no reason to inflame folks.)

I went to one of the finest restaurants in town and ordered up a feast– several of their best meals. They did their best and a mighty respectable job– I envy their ovens, it’ll be a long while before I can settle and bake in a real oven again. It was a virtuous feast– by the time it was over, I could barely move. It takes a lot of good food for that to happen. I was tempted to get a room in the hotel, but had to watch the wagon– tonight’s the night a smart thief would strike.

In the morning we set out for the wild lands of the west. This was our last real town; from here it’ll be just forts and wilderness. I can’t wait.