Tycoon Harrington and Baron Anderson met with T. Jewett in his office parlor for a community planning meeting. Though the townspeople thought they had a mayor and city council that made things happen in Centerville, Jewett’s office parlor was where the big ideas began and seen fruition, or received the axe.

“The mayor, is he happy?” Tycoon Harrington asked.

“Teamster Thomas just delivered him a new case of wine,” Jewett said. “He’s in hog heaven.”

“So what’s happening this week?” The Baron asked.

“I finalized the deal with the Belloma Brothers,” Jewett said. They’ve made arrangements with the local farmers for summer fruits and vegetables. We’ll handle the local freight, and Harrington has the rail shipment contracts to Cincinnati and Moravia.”

“And I’m working on more,” the Tycoon said. “I’ll be shipping to both Albia and into Missouri by month’s end. And we’re bringing produce up from Texas for the offseason and Jewett will unload from the rail cars and deliver to the Belloma’s”

Jewett looked at the Baron. “And the deal with the Talbots?

“All set,” The Baron said. “You should be getting the contracts from Bushell by the end of the week. Their sawmill is ready. You’ll be bringing the hardwoods in from my timbers.”

“Same here,” the Tycoon said. “I’ll be getting the pines and mountain firs from the railhead in Omaha. Then you’ll deliver from here.”

Jewett looked at the Baron. “Any word on the dry goods and newspaper press?”

“Stufflebeem secured a loan to Cowan to expand his inventory. Dry goods will be fine. Cowan runs a tight ship down there. Works dawn to midnight every day but Sunday.”

“And the press?”

The Baron continued. “When I was down at the Kansas City Stockyards I met a man named Lawson. He used to be a Pinkerton man in the Jesse James days. He owns several newspapers now. Said he’s willing to expand, and that his sister could run it. He’s coming in on the train next week. We will pick him up and put him up at the Jefferson House. Show him around and see if we can find a building for his press.”

“Will he need to see Stufflebeem?” The Tycoon asked.

“No,” The Baron replied. “Lawson is loaded. He can do it all on his own.”

“Hmm,” Jewett said. “Does he play poker?”

The Baron huffed. “You want to cheat him out of his money, too?”

“You’re just unlucky,” Jewett said.

“Unlucky! What has it been, four nights in a row? I need to figure out how you’re doing it. I think Mr. Jim is going to take my key to the safe and hide it.”

“All right boys, enough of that,” The Tycoon said. “What else do we got?”

“Implements,” Jewett said. “A man named Guffey is looking to set up a shop here. Plows and cultivators. Heavy stuff, all coming in by rail from Moline.”

The Tycoon knocked on the table two times. “Here-here! That’s the music I like.”

“And we have the cattle drives coming up,” the Baron said. “At least 1,000 head to Kansas City. And Chicago will surely want more. I’m yet to get the numbers.”

The Tycoon held up his glass of whiskey. “Gentlemen, let’s toast to Talbot Lumber and the Belloma Brothers, to dry goods, to implements, to newspapers, and to cattle drives.”

The three men held up their glasses and clanked them together.

“And long live Mayor Moritz,” Jewett said.

* * * * *

The men loosened their ties and removed their coats and the whiskey kept flowing. Jewett had to get a second bottle.

“So how much land do you have now, Baron?”

“Hell if I know. I stopped counting years ago. Just kept acquiring.”

“I heard you just bought Ms. Dixie’s place?” The Tycoon asked.

“Correct,” the Baron said after reaching the bottom of his glass. He slammed it on the table in front of Jewett for more.

“What do I look like, a bar maid?” Jewett said.

The Baron sneered at him. “You look like the poker-cheating varmint that you are. Now pour.”

Jewett laughed and handed him the whole bottle.

“Yeah,” the Baron said, pouring his own drink. “Widow Dixie had to throw in the towel. She’d been running that place with hired hands since ‘63, when they buried her husband in Keokuk.”

“You bought a lot of land that way,” the Tycoon said, “from grieving war widows.”

“Sure did. Someone was going to buy it. Might as well be me. Half of them stayed and lived there, I never made them leave or pay rent. It was still their homes if they wanted to stay. They’d tend their own gardens, and I’d have Mr. Jim take them beef when they needed it. Their husbands fought for us. The least we can do is take care of their women.”

“Here-here,” the Tycoon said. And the men toasted to the last of the bottle.

* * * * *

Constable Howington wouldn’t let Lady Becky drive anymore, so when she needed to go somewhere, he offered his assistance.

Lady Becky had received a letter from an old friend, Ms. Rosalind, and that she’d be arriving on the afternoon train at the Centerville Depot.

“How do you know Ms. Rosalind,” the constable asked.

“We were childhood friends,” Lady Becky said. “Her family owned coal mines in Mystic and and discovered a gypsum mine here in Centerville. They lived in a big house on Drake Avenue. The family moved away and she inherited the house. She’s coming home, and I am very excited!

* * * * *

In the next episode of CENTERVILLE 1884:
The Newspaper Magnate Lawson and his sister arrive in Centerville. The Anderson cattle roundup begins for the drives to Harrington’s railheads. R. Guffey meets with T. Jewett and Tycoon Harrington to discuss his implement business. A professional gambler comes to town and challenges T. Jewett to a high stakes game. And Baron Anderson discusses the idea of bringing a professional wrestler to town.