America 1883: The Western Homeland

Chapter 153 Tom and James Discuss Paradise Valley's Plans for Next Year

Five thousand US dollars!

A thick wad of banknotes slammed onto the wooden table, causing James's pupils to shrink sharply. This money had come so easily!

How many cows does the ranch need to sell to earn this money?

At thirty US dollars per head, that's a full one hundred and seventy strong cattle!

"Send someone to keep an eye on the hot springs!" James ordered in a hoarse voice. "With such a large sum of money, the service must be impeccable; there can't be the slightest mistake!"

Tom had anticipated his reaction, and a smile played on his lips: "The stove is glowing red, and the heated kang bed is scorching hot. The basic meal is free, with plenty of warm water, and you can eat as much dark bread as you want. After you've soaked, you can even have a couple of sips of free coffee mixed with whiskey to warm yourself up."

James stared intently at him: "You little punk, saving up for something big, huh?"

"Of course." Tom tapped his fingertips on the table, like a dealer uncovering a gambling cup. "The deluxe version, three dollars a meal!"

"Freshly grilled beef ribs sizzling with oil! Braised pork belly savory and chewy! Top-quality coffee beans freshly ground, and the whiskey from Kentucky's oldest cellar!"

His voice suddenly rose, "Salty and savory, made to order! As long as the money's right, I'll make dragon meat for you fresh!"

James gasped, "Three dollars? -- Not expensive!"

The guests, wrapped in bathrobes, froze by the hot spring pool.

In the pine tray in front of me:

The caramel-colored crispy skin of the beef short ribs cracked open, and the juices seeped into the oak cutting board;

The aroma of coffee mixed with the smoky scent of bourbon whiskey hits you right in the head;

Even the dark bread is sliced ​​and baked until golden brown, served with creamy butter—

"FK!" Someone blurted out a swear word.

Problem? No!

It's this exquisite, incisive detail that makes your wallet tremble!

Tom's plans actually went far beyond that. For example, he planned to hire several professional masseuses to provide guests with soothing massages in the steamy hot spring water; or to arrange a stunning dance performance while the guests relaxed! And the performers? They would all be carefully selected beauties!

Why were these ideas ultimately not adopted?

The answer is simple: this place is not suitable!

Tom was talking to his father, James, about the profits from the hot springs, which alone brought in an astonishing monthly income.

Tom added casually, "This is a discounted price because they're neighbors. For tourists who come specifically to see Yellowstone, the price would be at least double!"

hiss-

James gasped. "Could it be—there aren't any hot springs anywhere else?"

"Yes!" Tom smiled confidently. "But nobody knows which hot spring is absolutely safe. At least this one on our ranch is safe and sound!"

James instantly understood the key point.

"Actually, doing business is much more profitable than raising cattle," Tom tentatively suggested.

To everyone's surprise, James decisively shook his head: "This ranch is so big, it's perfect for raising cattle!"

He had little interest in his son's idea.

Tom understood; he could tell from his father's past behavior that James, deep down, only wanted to be a pure rancher.

"Have you finalized your plans for next spring? How many cows do you plan to raise?" Tom steered the conversation toward the ranch's plans for next year.

At the mention of the plan, James immediately perked up: "With such great pastures and the Yellowstone River flowing through it, I'm planning to raise 15,000 head of beef cattle!"

His eyes gleamed with ambition as he asked, "What do you think about hiring a few more cowboys?"

Tom listened attentively without immediately giving his opinion.

"We can also try clearing some land and growing some crops," James said, getting more and more excited. "Even if we don't sell them, we can eat them ourselves! We can raise more chickens, ducks, pigs, and rabbits. Look how much little John loves eggs, rabbit meat, and pork!"

When James mentioned his youngest son, his smile grew even brighter.

Tom spoke up at the opportune moment: "Actually, in the first year on this new ranch, we can raise fewer beef cattle. The focus should be on gaining experience and adapting to the environment. Making money isn't our priority for now."

James, who was full of enthusiasm, paused and carefully considered his son's words.

"If you're thinking of planting in the spring, you should contact the seed station in the east now," Tom suggested. "Have them send some good seeds. I've heard of a community that's famous for its chicks, piglets, and farming; you could check it out sometime."

James finally nodded slowly.

Tom secretly breathed a sigh of relief. His biggest worry was that his father, having just acquired such a vast and fertile land, would be unable to contain his impulse and try to get rich quick.

"It's best to keep a record of each step for future reference."

Tom stopped there.

It's already quite good that his father listened to him.

Tom was chatting with his father when there was a sudden, urgent knocking at the door.

Tom immediately got up and opened the door.

Outside the gate stood the guards responsible for the northern entrance of the valley, their expressions showing a hint of haste.

"Someone at the hot spring inn specifically wants to see you, Mr. Tom!"

Tom paused slightly, then asked, "Did the person give their name?"

"No." The guard shook his head and handed over a folded piece of paper. "But he gave this."

Tom took the note, unfolded it, and as his eyes swept over it, his heart skipped a beat.

He nodded calmly and said to the guard, "Understood, I'll go over there."

After saying that, he quickly went out and headed straight for the hot spring hotel.

In the hotel lobby, an ordinary-looking young man was waiting quietly, with an unremarkable demeanor.

Without saying a word, Tom gestured for the other man to follow and led him directly to a nearby secluded cave.

The cave was cool and shady. Tom skillfully lit a campfire, the flickering flames illuminating his calm yet scrutinizing face.

"Speak, what is it?" Tom's voice echoed through the cave walls, sounding exceptionally clear.

The young man did not answer, but cautiously took out a letter sealed tightly with wax from his pocket and handed it over.

Tom's gaze was fixed on the young man, taking in every subtle movement.

He slowly took the letter, his fingertips able to feel the hardness and coldness of the wax seal.

"Open it and take a look," the young man finally spoke, his voice low.

Tom looked up, gave the other person a deep look, and then deftly removed the wax seal and unfolded the letter.

The campfire crackled, and only the faint sounds of turning pages and burning flames remained inside the cave.

Time seemed to stand still until Tom finished reading the last word, at which point he expressionlessly threw the letter directly into the leaping flames.

The flames instantly engulfed it, turning it into a wisp of smoke.

"I'll give you an answer in three days," Tom said firmly.

The young man didn't say much, just nodded, turned around and quickly disappeared into the darkness outside the cave.

The young man was unaware that the "Tom" before him had another, unknown identity: Lee White.

Tom, too, was unaware of the other party's background.

Back at their lodgings, Tom simply told his father, James, "I'm going out for a bit."

Before he finished speaking, he rushed out of the house, mounted his beloved horse "Mudfish," and sped away.

He followed the young man's figure from afar.

The other party was very cautious and made their way to Livingston, where they stayed at a hotel.

Tom chose a small bar not far from the hotel, where a window seat would allow him to keep an eye on the hotel entrance.

He drank one glass after another, but Zi Guang never left that direction.

A full day later, after confirming that the young man had not made any unusual moves, Tom quietly left and rode quickly to the Bozeman Sheriff's Office.