Easy Pickings Read Online Free PDF Page A

own.”
    â€œI came with Kermit,” she said. “And spent my days fighting catarrh and keeping us warm. This is a cold place.”
    â€œYes, and there’s no comfort when gold’s lying about, waiting to be fought over.”
    They pushed into sharp air, and walked to Laidlow’s whitewashed funeral home, which slumbered in the early light. The town shimmered in the breeze.
    A pullcord rang a bell that summoned the proprietor. The owner took his time, perhaps not used to responding at an unusual hour.
    But at last a gent in muttonchops and a black frock coat opened, and eyed them.
    â€œYou must be Mrs. McPhee,” he said. “Do come in. We’ve been awaiting you.”
    She nodded, and they entered. The mortician steered them to a small office, his gaze questioning Tip Leary.
    â€œNow then, your bereavement is a matter of deepest concern for me. I want to do whatever is possible to accommodate you in your hour of need.”
    She let him drone on a little. He was describing his services, and raising questions.
    â€œThere’ll be a service for another,” she said. “The baby, Kermit the Fourth. He died in the fire.”
    â€œFire?”
    â€œOur cabin was burned.”
    Laidlow seemed puzzled enough. She talked of the fire. She didn’t talk of the sealing of the mine, or her absence from the cabin. He listened intently. She saw no sign of the young woman who was keeping the doors open the previous day.
    â€œYou will need to comb the ash to find my baby. If there’s anything left. McPhees burn as fast as any other mortal.”
    Laidlow fussed a little with some wire-rimmed spectacles. “Have you reported this, madam?”
    â€œThat will come. Now, you find my baby. I couldn’t even get close in the night, it was so hot.”
    â€œWe may not be able to, madam.”
    â€œYou mean there’ll be nothing left. Not so much as a lock of his hair as a keepsake.”
    â€œI will send some assistants. Young men I employ. This is grievous for you. And if we find the child…”
    â€œCremate him. If he is not yet ash, let him be ash. It is the only dignity.”
    â€œNow there is the matter of a coffin, and a grave, or two graves, and a service, Mrs. McPhee. And knowing how much you wish to honor your loved ones, I think a good stone would be appropriate, with the names of both incised upon it. Of course, with your considerable assets, you need not worry about managing the obligations. There are some fine lots at the front of the cemetery, a few dollars more but you need not walk to the pauper’s field at the rear whenever you wish to spend a quiet hour with your loved ones.”
    And so it went. March grew weary of the negotiations, but in due course they set a day, the following Thursday; a place, a chapel; and a coffin, a pine box stained to look like hickory.
    â€œAnd where may we find you, Mrs. McPhee?”
    â€œAt the mine,” she said.
    â€œAnd you have means, of course. I believe the total will be two hundred and forty.”
    â€œIn time,” she said.
    â€œI will send along a little agreement,” he said. “You’ll need to sign it for us to proceed.”
    Leary had said not a word, but had absorbed it all, and when they reached fresh air, she asked him what he thought.
    â€œYou are a courageous woman, March McPhee. I don’t know where you’ll be staying at the mine, at the place where everything burnt to ash, but at least you’ll see who the man sends to look for your baby—and maybe you’ll be seeing the very ones that snuffed the life of that bright boy, the very ones who’ll comb the ash for whatever’s left of the boy.”
    â€œWhere’s the constable, Mr. Leary?”
    â€œWould you like me to come?”
    â€œYou are my help.”
    He led her to a small whitewashed structure that was at once Marysville’s city hall and peace officer’s quarters.