“Suppose I could get another school without it costing the town anything except the land underneath it?”
“How are you going to do that?”
Sam thought a minute. “I’ll build it, and I won’t charge for labor. I’m willing to bet my crew will donate their labor, too. We could ask that new fellow who owns the sawmill if he’d donate the lumber. We take up a collection for the materials.”
“Well . . . that might work.”
“Your enthusiasm isn’t exactly overwhelming,” Sam remarked. “Is there a problem that I’m not seeing?”
One of the councilmen leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. “There’s been some talk, Sam. I guess you know about it.”
A flush of dark anger stained Sam’s throat. “I didn’t have anything to do with those fires.”
“Nobody’s saying you did. So far, all anyone’s saying is that it’s a strange coincidence that your last two projects burned to the ground.”
“You’re damned right it’s a coincidence,” Sam said in a low, hard voice. “What else could it be?”
“Well, no one’s making any accusations, mind, but the only things those two fires have in common is that they were set deliberately, they were set before the building was completed, and you were the foreman on both jobs.”
Striving to remain calm, Sam stared at the men around the table. “The first project was the union hall.” He leaned forward, angry that he felt a need to defend himself. “There’s no lack of anti-union sentiment around here.” Last year had seen deadly riots between union and non-union supporters. “Maybe someone wanted to send an anti-union message.”
“Wouldn’t surprise anybody. There’s still a lot of friction and hard feelings.”
“The second project was the Whittier house. Eighty percent of the people in this county hate Homer Whittier, including several seated at this table.” Homer Whittier had made a fortune cheating careless men out of their share of producing mines. Whittier operated within the gray areas of the law and boasted that he’d never done anything illegal. The loopholes he found allowed him to steal with the weight of the law behind him. “I’d say there are a couple hundred people who hate Whittier enough to burn down his new house.”
“What you’re suggesting is possible. I’m not arguing, Sam. I’ll even go you one better by saying that no one believes you started the fires. Why would you? So don’t go thinking that folks blame you.”
Sam swore. “Then what’s the problem here?”
“The problem is you being the foreman on both jobs. Now me and the police chief and everybody else thinks this is just coincidence.” The mayor gave Sam a thoughtful look. “But if another of your projects burns, it’s no longer coincidence. You follow?”
Sam dropped back in his chair. “So you don’t believe I started the fires, but I might have, and you’re waiting to see if I’m stupid enough to burn down another project. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying if another of your projects burns, then we need to look harder at you. Maybe someone is sending you a message, Sam. On the face of it that sounds ridiculous, but who knows?”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “We’ve covered this subject. The fires don’t have anything to do with a new school. The question here is, will you give me the land to build a school or won’t you?”
By some silent process that Sam didn’t see even though he was watching, the men at the table reached a consensus without speaking a word. Glances were exchanged, throats were cleared, cigars lit or extinguished.
At the end of the fidgeting the mayor said, “For the time being, let’s leave the question open. We’ll talk again after you finish building Reverend Dryfus’s house.”
Sam stared in anger and disbelief. “You’ll wait and see if someone torches the reverend’s house?”
Clem waved a fat cigar. “You got to admit, Sam. Nobody’s mad at the reverend. There’s no reason in the world to burn down his new house.”
“So if the place goes up, then you figure the culprit is me.” Stiff with insult, he flattened his hands on the table and started to rise.
“Don’t be an ass, Sam. Sit down. How many times do you have to hear this? Nobody believes you’re burning down your buildings. All’s we’re saying is you might be the target. That’s one reason on a long list of possible causes.”
“We’re drying-in the Dryfus place today,” Sam snapped. “The day the reverend and his wife move into the house, I’m coming back to the council and I expect you to give me the land for a new school.”