The Last Best West - Swiftwater Jims Telegram.

Peace River Town. May 18, 1897.

The men weren't paying attention any more, as they watched Judge Mulligan walk over to their table.

"Forgot about this."

Willford Mulligan pulled an envelope out of his pocket. "This arrived round about a month ago, in Calgary. Thought you might like it."

The Judge handed the telegram to Wasey. "Thanks Judge. How about a drink?

"Thanks just the same," the Judge shook his head, "but not tonight."

Wasey ripped open the envelope and looked at the cable dated April 15, 1897, from his former scout and partner, Jim O'Day. It was clear and to the point: COME TO THE YUKON. . .I AM ON THE KLONDIKE ARM OF THE YUKON RIVER. . .THIS IS A CHANCE OF A LIFETIME. . .YOUR FRIEND, JIM O'DAY.

Wasey read it twice, then folded it in half and stared, unseeing, as a chill ran down his back. Time stood still as he heard Ravissante, as if from a great distance, ask him if he was all right. Wasey dropped the telegram. Standing up, he calmly walked out of the saloon.

Outside the day was gray and shapeless, light and shadow playing games with his eyes. The air was warm and seemed to have all the life in the world as it breathed clarity into his thoughts. The smallest thought or sound stood out crisp in his mind.

Jim O'Day. Gone almost four years and now he sends a note.

His loyalty to Jim O'Day was a terrible serpent to wrestle, making everything in his life all of a sudden incredibly complicated. How could he look at himself in the mirror if he didn't answer Jim's call? Years before, Jim O'Day had pulled him out of a snowy crevice, where Wasey surely would have died while chasing that bugger Poke Roberts.

Only people without honour and loyalty deem these qualities unimportant, and Wasey stood by his pards, and if one needed help, then . . .but how could he look at Ravissant when he told her he had to go.

His mind in turmoil he jumped when Ravissante ran up from behind and grabbed his arm. Pulling him around she waved the telegram in his face. "What de devil is Jim O'Day talking about?"

Wasey looked down and shuffled his feet, trying to avoid her angry eyes. "Oh, you know Jim. He always likes to make things mysterious."

Ravissante shook her finger at him, "Wasey Bruce, you better tell me you have no intention of going!"

Wasey's head snapped up and he gave Ravissante a piercing look. Turning, he stomped down the street toward their room. "I will not discuss my life on the dusty street, for all to know my business!"

Ravissante fell in step, and together they stormed up the stairs and into their room. Slamming the door she once more confronted him. "Monsieur Bruce! You will please answer my question!"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? What do you mean you don't know!"

Wasey was loosing his patience, his voice getting edgy, "Just what I said, I don't know."

Ravissante stood in front of him and angrily stamped a foot. "What is dere to dink about? We are leaving in a few days to build our ranch and dere is no time for some adventure in de Godforsaken Yukon!. Dat is de way it is and Jim O'Day can go to hell!" She rushed into his arms and pounded his chest with her small fists, as tears of anger and frustration cascaded down her cheeks.

He protected himself, as best he could, and then pulled her into his arms, when her tears overwhelmed her. "You don't mean that, honey."

"Yes I do."

Wasey raised her tear stained face and kissed it tenderly. "No you don't, because you know if not for Jim O'Day I wouldn't be here to hold you in my arms."

Ravissante buried her head back into his chest and said nothing. He calmly stroked her hair and hugged her tight as his thoughts returned to Jim O'Day's telegram. There was no ignoring the gold strike in the Yukon; it was in the papers everyday. If Jim had struck it rich it would be just like him to send a cryptic note, explaining little. But what to do now?

This is an excerpt from Chapter Five of The Last Best West by Longfellow Deeds. Copyrite © 2002 All rights Reserved. No portion or part maybe reproduced by any physical, mechanical or electronic means. Please contact us at for further information or assistance.

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Swiftwater Jim's Telegram