Before Montgomery’s freight wagon left Silver City, a clerk sympathetic to the mine would record sack numbers.
At the mine, the entire load would be weighed independently in front of witnesses.
If the shipment arrived short, they would have proof.
One shipment alone might be blamed on loss.
So they needed more.
Martha wrote to a boarding-house owner she knew in Boise City.
Then to a freighter in Oregon.
She requested prevailing prices for grain, salt, and wagon freight.
The responses would take weeks.
Fine.
Winter was long.
The first controlled shipment arrived at the mine fourteen days later.
Ordered: four thousand pounds.
Delivered: three thousand four hundred eighty-two.
More than five hundred pounds missing.
Montgomery’s invoice still billed the full four thousand.
Billy’s uncle signed an affidavit.
Two miners witnessed the scale.
Josiah read it three times.
“This is enough.”
Martha shook her head.
“Again.”
He groaned.
“Again?”
“If we accuse him after one test, he calls it a broken sack.”
“Five hundred pounds?”
“Several broken sacks.”
“You think like a criminal.”
“I ran a boarding house.”
Josiah laughed.
The second test involved salt.
Eight hundred pounds ordered through a hotel owner in Silver City whom Martha convinced to cooperate quietly.
Seven hundred eleven arrived.
The third involved beans shipped to another ranch.
Again short.
Different percentages.
Same company.
Same invoicing.
By February, they had a pattern.
They also had another problem.
Money.
The ranch had food.
It had breeding cattle.
It had evidence.
It did not have four thousand dollars.
Montgomery did.
The spring note remained due.
Josiah spent nights staring at the bank agreement.
Martha found him one evening.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Looking at the number as if it changes when you glare.”
“It might get ashamed.”
She sat opposite.
The chair beneath her had been reinforced by Gideon without being asked.
Martha had noticed.
She had also noticed he never announced it.
Progress.
Josiah rubbed his forehead.
“I can sell the heifers.”
“No.”
“Half.”
“No.”
“They may bring enough.”
“And destroy next year.”
“Next year does not matter if the bank takes the ranch.”
Martha leaned back.
“What else has value?”
“Land.”
“Not helpful.”
“Horses.”
“Necessary.”
“Equipment.”
“Worth less at winter auction.”
She nodded.
“What can we make?”
Josiah looked toward her.
She pointed toward the smokehouse.
He frowned.
“The meat is for the crew.”
“Not all of it.”
“You told me we needed it.”
“We needed enough calories to survive winter.”
“We have more than enough because you traded for thirty hogs when twenty would have covered basic needs.”
Josiah’s eyebrows rose.
“You said I overbought.”
“You did.”
“So my mistake is useful?”
“Occasionally.”
He smiled.
Martha spread a sheet of paper.