Painted Sky.
Wróbel's Ranch.
Due to poor management, the place had fallen into ruin. When Davey and his group arrived, Wróbel happened to be standing outside the house.
"(Polish) Who are you, and why have you come to my ranch?"
Seeing the intimidating group, Wróbel asked nervously.
Davey, not understanding Polish, smiled and replied in English, "Hello, Mr. Wróbel. We're here regarding Leopold Strauss's debt. It's time to settle up."
Meanwhile, Benedict, still slung over John's horse, kept groaning in pain.
"(German) Leopold Strauss? Ah, the German. Then let's speak in the language of the Reich," Wróbel said cautiously.
Davey didn't respond. He dismounted and said to Mac, "Mac, drag him inside."
Mac chuckled, grabbed Wróbel like a chick, and tossed him onto the floor inside the house.
Davey pulled up a chair and sat down. "Listen, Mr. Wróbel. If I hear another word of Polish or German, I'll break your left leg."
"Don't try to play games with me. I can't stand liars. You saw what happened to that man earlier—he lied to me, and now his left leg's broken."
"So I expect you to be honest."
"Of course, if you really can't speak English, that's fine too. I'll break both your legs and forgive your debt. So, make your choice, Mr. Wróbel."
Davey's tone was calm, almost conversational—but that only made Wróbel more afraid. He could tell the man before him was deadly serious.
"I... sir, you know how terrible this winter has been," Wróbel stammered, fear on his face. "I don't have any money right now."
Davey nodded slightly. "So, Mr. Wróbel, you're choosing to have me forgive your debt and break both your legs?"
Terrified, Wróbel pleaded, "Please don't do that, sir. Just give me a little time. I swear I'll get the money."
Davey didn't answer. He sat silently, tapping his fingers lightly on the table.
Thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump-thump.
With every tap, Wróbel's heart pounded faster. It felt like Davey was deciding how best to deal with him.
Suddenly, the tapping stopped. Davey looked up at him and said, "Fifty dollars. That's not much, Mr. Wróbel. On my way here, I heard a horse in your stable. Maybe you could sell it."
"That'd be enough to pay what you owe, wouldn't it? You might even have a bit left over."
"Mac, go check the stable. See what kind of horse he's got."
Wróbel tensed immediately.
Mac went to the stable and soon returned. "Oh, Davey, it's a Hungarian cross. More than enough to clear the debt," he called out.
Wróbel shouted in panic, "No, sir, please don't! That horse is already mortgaged to the bank! If you take it, I'll be ruined!"
Davey smiled. "Mr. Wróbel, if we don't take it, won't you end up ruined anyway?"
"Your ranch has nothing left. So tell me—how exactly do you plan to repay the debt?"
"Or are you waiting for the bank to seize everything before admitting you can't pay?"
Wróbel stammered, unable to find an answer.
At that point, Davey decided it was time to move on.
"Listen, Mr. Wróbel. I've got a business proposal—one that's very profitable. If you're willing to work with me, not only will your debt be cleared, but you'll earn enough to pay off the bank as well."
Wróbel looked at him in disbelief. "Sir... what kind of business are we talking about?"
Davey got straight to it. "Moonshine. The moonshine trade. You know how much it makes. I need you to use the ranch's name to quietly buy the raw materials I need. That shouldn't be too hard for you."
Wróbel hesitated. "But sir, moonshine is illegal."
Davey chuckled. "Oh, such a good citizen of America. So tell me, Mr. Wróbel—would you rather go bankrupt?"
Wróbel realized he had no other choice. "Alright, sir. I'll work for you."
Davey nodded. "Good. Then, Mr. Wróbel, your debt is forgiven, and your legs remain intact."
"In a few days, someone will contact you. I'll cover the cost of the materials—at twice the normal rate."
He then pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. "This might help you get by for now. I'll deduct it from your wages later."
Holding the money in his hands, Wróbel finally let out a breath of relief.
"Thank you, sir. How should I address you... my employer?"
"Davey Callander," he replied. "You can call me Mr. Callander."
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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