Untitled Chapter

Harlan looked at the paper, then at Jack. "Twenty?" Jack said nothing. "Ten." Jack still said nothing. The old man swallowed. "Five percent. Can't do less. Coal, acid, scale, molds all cost money." Jack pulled out a chair and sat. "Five. Short me one ounce, and I'll throw you and your scale into the furnace together." Harlan forced a smile that looked painful. "Fair trade. I always did love fair trade." The furnace burned all night. Ore was broken, washed, heated, and skimmed. Gold rolled in the crucible like a pot of tamed sun. Jack sat by the door with the Winchester across his knees. No one came close. Near midnight, men dragged away the bodies. Tall Hat rode out too. He rode fast, as if fire followed him. Jack let him go.