America 1883: The Western Homeland

Chapter 161 One of Paradise Valley's industries is animal husbandry.

At Dutton Estate, what pleased James the most was the newly built two-story house.

What gave him the most peace of mind in the small building was the warehouse hidden deep inside.

A secret vault filled with gold!

When the two heavy chests of gold were solemnly carried into the main house and the crowd dispersed, the real ceremony had just begun.

With a single glance from James, Tom immediately understood and, together with his father, moved the box into James' bedroom.

The door was tightly shut.

Even little John was sent away early to his aunt Claire's room.

In the silence, Mother Margaret walked toward the thick wall of fire on the east side.

Without the slightest hesitation, she placed her palm on the brick surface and pushed hard. With a low scraping sound, a hidden door suddenly opened, as if the manor had awakened and silently opened its secret mouth.

She picked up a kerosene lamp and disappeared into the darkness.

A moment later, a dim, flickering light emanated from within, outlining a narrow downward passage.

Tom and his father lifted the heavy box and ventured deeper into the earth's core.

Finally, the two boxes were placed side by side on the cold floor of the warehouse.

In the dim light, several other identical boxes were quietly piled up in the corner.

Tom stared at this dazzling yet dangerous corner, his heart pounding like a drum, his mind racing with calculations:

Nearly half a million dollars worth of gold lay dormant beside them.

Until everyone had quietly left, the secret door had closed tightly, and the firewall had returned to normal, it was as if nothing had happened.

Two chests filled with gold were completely swallowed up by the stone wall.

"Are we really just going to leave all this gold here without saying a word?"

Several months later, two more chests of gold of the same weight will be sent into this dark room.

Tom finally couldn't hold back and broke the silence.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" James always spoke directly to his son.

Tom curled his lip. "Are we being misers? How many cowboys would we have to hire to guard all this stuff day and night? How much would that cost?"

His gaze swept over his parents, and he continued, "Why not bring them to life, turn them into eggs-laying hens? Like, turn them into an industry?"

"Buy land?" A knowing smile appeared on the lips of the intelligent mother, Margaret, as if she had guessed his thoughts.

Tom shook his head: "Of course we should buy suitable land, but good land isn't always available. What we need is—someone who can specifically search for and secure these things for us."

"Are you planning to acquire land on a large scale, even at the cost of spending money to buy information?" His father, James, looked at him seriously.

Tom nodded emphatically: "Even the newly appointed mayor of Postman understands that we need to find ways to attract eastern businessmen to invest in land and build ranches. News and land deeds are sometimes more valuable than gold."

Hearing this, James frowned slightly: "Tom, we already have such a large valley, we don't have the resources to develop other lands."

"No, not that kind of business," Tom quickly explained. "We can buy key plots of land, like land along planned railroad lines. That way, we don't need to herd cattle; we just need to hold onto it tightly."

"No need, Tom," James's voice turned somber. "We don't need to compete with the railroad. Just guard Paradise Valley, that's enough."

Tom sighed. His father was a traditional rancher, his ideas as unshakable as the rocks of the Rocky Mountains. He couldn't find a way to persuade him.

“But I think Tom’s idea is good,” Margaret suddenly spoke, her voice clear and calm. “If we really have the chance to come across land like that, we should seize it without hesitation. What do you say, James?”

She and her husband looked at each other for a moment, and a silent exchange was quietly completed.

James finally relented, saying, "—Okay."

But he turned back and solemnly instructed Tom: "Remember, this valley is our root."

Tom nodded in agreement.

Right now, the valley is indeed of paramount importance.

But what about the future?

"I have to go to Texas soon to buy some calves. Tom, the house is in your hands," James said.

Tom nodded in agreement: "Take more men with you."

"Wade, Thomas, and ten more cowboys, that's enough." James clearly had this in mind.

"How much are you planning to buy?" Tom pressed.

"Twelve thousand heads."

At three to five dollars per head, this would be a deal worth around fifty thousand dollars.

Tom pondered for a moment, then decisively adjusted the plan: "Then bring ten more cowboys."

James immediately refused: "There are only thirty cowboys on the ranch. If I take twenty of them, the ranch will be empty! No way."

Seeing his father's firm stance, Tom backed down, but his tone left no room for negotiation: "Then bring Zack, and six cowboys with him."

It has to be this way.

Hearing the persistence in his son's words, James finally nodded.

Turning around, Tom found Zack, stared into his eyes, and instructed him: "Your mission is simple: no matter what happens, you must bring James back safely."

"Understood!" Zack solemnly promised.

The reason for traveling all the way to Texas to buy cattle is simply because Texas Longhorn cattle are cold-resistant and can adapt to the weather in Montana, and local ranches also recognize this breed.

But Tom didn't agree.

Although Longhorn cattle are resistant to cold, they have a low meat yield and, more problematicly, they often carry rinderpest, leading to strict quarantine measures in various states and even outright bans on their entry into the country in some places.

Tom had been looking for one or more types of high-end beef cattle that could adapt to the local climate and produce superior meat.

Of course, he knew this would be quite difficult.

After the father led the team off, the entire ranch suddenly seemed deserted.

Tom would ride out early every morning to personally patrol the valley.

That day, he arrived at the hot spring hotel.

The bearded rancher grinned as soon as he saw him: "Tom, want some puppies?"

Tom was taken aback: "You sell dogs here too?"

"My sheepdog just had a litter of eight!" the bearded man laughed. "I've never heard any dogs barking from your ranch."

That's true.

Perhaps because their cattle farming operation is not yet very large, they have never seriously considered raising sheepdogs.

Since the other party brought it up, Tom casually asked, "Free?"

"Of course!"

"Okay, I'll send someone to pick it up when the baby is a month old."

"no problem!"

Seeing how easy he was to talk to, Tom's heart skipped a beat, and he casually asked, "By the way, do you know which breed of beef cattle in Montana has a higher meat yield?"

The bearded man paused upon hearing this, clearly not expecting Tom to ask such a question.

He stroked his beard and pondered for a moment before cautiously speaking, "Everyone recognizes Longhorn cattle, you know that. But it's impossible to say that no one has tried other breeds."

He paused, then his tone became more serious: "But to be honest, compared to Longhorn cattle, other local breeds are either too delicate to raise or not profitable enough, so they are indeed at a disadvantage."

The bearded man waved his hand, his tone carrying a hint of advice from someone with experience: "Some people have tried to breed Shorthorn cattle with our local cattle, but while it was a lot of work, no one really made a name for themselves."

He had only asked casually, but now he was suddenly deep in thought, his eyes shining with an astonishing light.

Yup!

Why insist on sticking to a single product?