*
It was ten o’clock in the evening, when they rode past the unfinished dome of the Capitol. The cranes and scaffolding were dark against the white building. The sparse gas streetlights had just started to come on. Only a few Federal troops were patrolling the street. In the distance, they could see the similarly unfinished Washington Monument standing alone in an unkempt field. Cattle were grazing around the monolith, where work had been halted since 1855 due to lack of building funds. Jack wondered to himself if they were ever going to finish the project, since every last scrap of money had been diverted towards the war effort.
As they neared the grounds of the monument, Jack and Ezra silently swung off their mounts. They took and tied the horses inside a copse of trees on the outskirts of the field. Jack looked cautiously around. With a wave of his hand, they quietly moved towards the unfinished granite obelisk. Above, the half-moon cast their shadows through the weeds and along the rutted ground around the abandoned building site. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the cattle and the distant noise of a city preparing for the coming night.
“Let’s take it easy here,” Jack said softly. “We have to make sure that there are no traps being set for us.”
Ezra nodded. They moved stealthily, looking for any possible danger.
The moonlight glistened off the white stone, throwing strange shadows on the ground below. They approached the silent obelisk, stopping to listen for any unexpected noises. Jack paused and looked over his shoulder before they made a circle around the monument. Not seeing anyone, they stopped and waited at the back corner of the edifice.
In the darkness, his partner whispered “After all these precautions, I hope somebody comes.”
The night was becoming darker, and the whine of mosquitoes could be heard buzzing past their ears. Jack slapped at a few as he stared out across the weed-ridden field. The street gaslights could be seen in the distance, along with the faint glow from the office windows of a few late night workers. He waited patiently, thinking of the soft face of Faith Hanson. He wondered why she wasn’t married yet. She must have had many suitors, but none had yet stolen her heart. He laughed inwardly at his own foolishness and waited for the moon to cross further in the sky.
Sometime later, Jack pulled out his pocket watch from his waistcoat and peered at it intently in the low light of the moon. It was getting close to ten-thirty. “Ezra, I hope someone shows up or else we are on a fool’s errand,” he whispered.
He pointed into the gloom. “Take a look. I think I see someone coming.”
Across the field came two men. Both were walking warily. Jack could tell by their shadows that they were carrying rifles over their shoulders. They stopped before the monument, looked up at it momentarily and then began conversing in low tones. The short man in the front pointed to the right, and the taller, hatless man scurried over to the other side of the monument to hide. It would have been a good hiding space if Jack hadn’t been able to see their every move from his vantage point. The shorter man sat down on the low steps and shifted around, as if trying to find a comfortable position for a long wait.
Jack motioned to Ezra. They both slid cautiously out from their place of concealment. They slowly crept towards the man at the stairs who was staring out across the plaza. He pulled out his pistol and held it at the ready, while his partner aimed his shotgun towards the sitting man.
Pointing his pistol in the air, Jack pulled the trigger and let out a single shot. The sudden shot rang loudly, making a hole in the silence of the night. The shorter man at the stairs froze in terror.
Jack then shouted, “Hold it right there or my partner will shoot your head off. Tell your friend to stand up slowly and throw his rifle away.”
The man laid his gun in front of him and turned to his right to speak. “Clem, get rid of your gun and come on out. They got us in a jam.”
A rifle was thrown to the ground where it landed with a dull thud. The taller man, named Clem, stood up. He stepped out from the shadows with his hands at his side. At this distance, Jack could not make out him out, but he thought the build looked familiar.
Ezra sauntered over to Clem, covering him with the shotgun.
The shorter man stood up and nervously faced Jack. “Now look here, if you expect to ever see your friend Lawrence again, you better play by our rules. We aren’t fooling around here. You better have the money on you, or he won't live to see the sunrise.”
Jack said, “I have the money, but you aren’t getting any of it unless we see some proof that he is still alive.” He then slowly went towards the man, holding the Starr aimed towards the kidnapper.
He gulped nervously. “Don’t you worry - he’s alive and unhurt. We’re just holding him somewhere safe until I give the word that we have the money. You must understand if I’m not back soon, they have been told to kill him.”
Jack stood only a few feet away from the small man and looked him over. He wore a shabby coat, and his unshaven face was rough and wrinkled. His eyes darted like a trapped animal looking for a way to escape. Jack finally answered him. “You better answer my questions, or it will be you who will be killed.” He then quickly lashed out with the Starr. The man fell to one knee, clutching the side of his wounded face.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.” Jack said icily.
The man pulled his hands away from his face and looked up. The pistol sight had made a long, ragged cut on the side of his face. The wound slowly oozed blood. Jack took a step forward and then kicked him hard in the side. The man fell over with a groan.
Clem gave a start and started towards his rifle a few feet away.
He got a just a foot towards his gun when Ezra gave a shout. “Hold still! Or you will get a full load of buckshot in your backside.” Clem stopped and turned to face the two of them. In surprise, Ezra lowered the shotgun a few inches. “Jack, check him out. This is the man who works for Brinker!”
Jack turned away from the man huddled on the ground and joined Ezra. “Well now we know who is holding our Mister Lawrence. Where is he?”
Clem just stood there and did not meet the gaze of either of them. He shifted nervously from foot to foot, apparently weighing his options.
The man on the ground groaned and rolled over on his stomach. “I think you busted my ribs,” he whined.
Jack ignored him and said, “Now Clem, you’re going to give us some answers, or you and your friend will get a belly full of lead. This old revolver will open up a big hole in you.” He lifted his pistol and pointed it at the kidnapper.
Clem looked at Jack and shook his head. He answered in a panicky low whisper. “It’s not worth my life to tell you anything. If Mister Brinker finds out that I sold him out, he’ll have me killed.”
“Then let’s go visit your employer and see if he can add anything.” Jack motioned with the pistol towards the distant street lights. “We’ll leave your friend here, find your horse, and then we’ll all take a ride.”