The Silverline

By Mike Wolfe

The Silverline is a historical fiction novel set in southwest Colorado in 1907.

Samuel and Benjamin have been best friends since childhood. When Samuel’s father dies and leaves him a large inheritance, the two young men leave their home in New York and set out to Colorado to purchase a working silver mine from the richest man in Durango, Mr. Kingsley.

However, everything is not as it seems. Samuel and Benjamin find themselves embroiled in a devious scheme and have to use their wits to protect themselves from ruin. Tension heightens when a spark ignites between Samuel and Kingsley’s beautiful young niece, Penny. Will Samuel and Benjamin be able narrowly avoid ruin and find prosperity in the Wild West?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Wolfe
• Release date: Aug 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301085453

Mike Wolfe

Mike Wolfe has been diggin’ and pickin’ through junk since the age of four. As the star of the History Channel hit show American Pickers, Mike travels more than 60,000 miles a year around the country “making a living telling the history of America, one piece at a time.” He divides his time between LeClaire, Iowa, and Nashville, Tennessee, where he owns the store Antique Archaeology.

Book preview

The Silverline

(A Historical Fiction Novel)

By Mike Wolfe

Edited by Erin Christian

Smashwords Edition

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Copyright © 2012 Mike Wolfe

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Published by Wolfe Publishing at Smashwords

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Cover Designed by: Karri Klawiter www.artbykarri.com

Table of Contents

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

From the author…

Chapter I

Kenneth squinted as he tried to see the other workers in the dark mineshaft. Their faces were dark, smudged with soot, but he could feel them bustling around him as he dug. Slowly, one by one, he noticed that the resounding sounds of their picks began to lessen as they ceased their hard work. Kenneth wiped his brow and his eyes stung with sweat. Sensing the others' frustration, he called out to them, his thick Irish accent echoing throughout the mine.

Anything?

Nothing! The miners boomed, almost in unison.

Timmy? Albert? Kenneth scanned their faces, their slumped shoulders, but he could only see the whites of the eyes of the men closest to him, the rest of their features dissolving in the dark. Damn it. Anyone?

Nothing! He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder in consolation, and the clear voices that had resounded as one broke apart into errant grumbling.

Kenneth wiped the cool sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. All right, head to the top, everyone, and break for lunch.

Albert inched toward Kenneth through the departing crowd. The dirt caking the ridges in his forehead made him look older than his mere 20 years.

What’re you going to do, Kenneth? Albert’s eyebrows furrowed.

Kenneth sighed and dread began to settle in his stomach, heavy as lead. I’m going to go and tell Mr. Kingsley.

Oh, Mr. Kingsley. Albert wrung his hands inside of his gloves. He’s going to be upset.

Kenneth clenched his teeth and began to exit the mine. To say the least, he mumbled under his breath.

*

Kenneth’s legs felt weak and sore after the hour-long train ride from Silverton to Durango, and relief washed over him as he stretched. However, no matter how good it felt to walk again, he couldn’t shake the leaden dread growing in his stomach.

A tall, wispy man escorted Kenneth through the cavernous halls of Mr. Kingsley’s mansion, and Kenneth felt out of place amongst the pristine and elaborate décor. When he passed a large, gilded mirror just before reaching Mr. Kingsley’s office, he lingered.

Can I just check my face? he asked the ghostly figure behind him. The man looked as if he would be toppled by a strong wind, and he only nodded.

Kenneth leaned in close, seeing his breath fog the glass in little puffs, and spat on his fingers. He smoothed his eyebrows and flattened his hair, anything to look as presentable as possible.

When he was finished, he stood straight, held his head high, and took in a deep breath before feebly knocking. For a moment he wasn’t even sure if Mr. Kingsley could have heard him.

Come in.

The silent escort had already turned to leave before Mr. Kingsley beckoned, and Kenneth gingerly opened the door and approached the massive oak desk where Kingsley loomed above stacks of paper.

The office was even more intimidating than the hall. Kingsley didn’t look up from his writing with his sterling silver-tipped pen, and for a moment Kenneth felt like a strange voyeur, a blotch on this immaculate painting of wealth.

What do you want? mumbled Mr. Kingsley.

Um, Kenneth shifted his weight from one foot to the other, sir, we have a problem at the mine.

Problem? Mr. Kingsley kept writing, but his voice turned hard, What’s the problem? Did we run out of silver?

Kenneth internally winced at the sarcasm lacing Mr. Kingsley’s last question.

Well, um, actually, sir, Kenneth’s mouth was dry, and he struggled to swallow, we did.

Mr. Kingsley dropped his pen to the desk with a clatter and balled his hands into fists. Kenneth’s chest tightened as he watched Mr. Kingsley’s bald spot disappear as he slowly raised his head. He forced himself to make eye contact.

Excuse me? Mr. Kingsley said.

I believe the mine is spent, sir.

Spent? Mr. Kingsley raised his voice ever so slightly. We’ve just finished blasting two new shafts, and I thought we found a vein last month?

Kenneth looked at his shoes. Yes, sir, we did. But everything in that vein has been taken.

Take me to the mine. Mr. Kingsley's voice was cold as steel. Kenneth's stomach lurched.

But sir, Kenneth felt his face flush and his ears throbbed with heat. There's nothing to see.

Take me to the damn mine! Mr. Kingsley boomed as he stood and slammed his fist into the desk in one smooth motion. Kenneth jumped at the sound and took a step back before slinking back toward the door.

*

Kenneth could hear the miners before he crested the hill with Mr. Kingsley. They sat in a large group, exuberantly talking and debating amongst themselves, but as the two men neared the group, Mr. Kingsley’s hard eyes and demeanor squelched any discussion. All at once they fell silent and followed Mr. Kingsley with apprehensive gazes. The tension crackled between them like lightning.

Kenneth was apprehensive, himself. He knew Mr. Kingsley wouldn’t understand their situation, but he had no idea how to explain? How do you tell a man who’s used to demanding what he wants that the earth simply can’t be forced to comply?

Kenneth’s tongue felt like a cotton ball as he followed Mr. Kingsley into the darkness of the mine. He stayed quiet, waiting on Mr. Kingsley to say anything, but Kingsley almost seemed to forget his presence. They just walked deeper and deeper in, and by the faint lights dangling from the crude walls, Kenneth could see Mr. Kingsley’s face contorted into a scowl.

Mr. Kingsley walked with his face to the wall, squinting at the chunks of rock and dirt as if accusing them of holding out. Kenneth made sure to walk a few feet behind him, taking comfort in shielding himself with darkness. However, every now and then Kenneth would jump when Kingsley snorted or harrumphed, bracing himself to scramble for answers he knew he couldn’t give.

Suddenly, Mr. Kingsley about-faced and shot past Kenneth, storming back out to daylight. Flustered and nauseated, Kenneth was surprised at how quickly Mr. Kingsley could move if he put his mind to it. When he stumbled out to the mine’s mouth, Kingsley had already started on the miners.

Get to work! What the hell are you all doing? Mr. Kingsley kicked pebbles and dirt in the direction of the sitting group, who protected their eyes with upraised arms. Get back to work! Anyone who is not in that mine in 10 seconds will never work for me again!

Kenneth stared at his feet, catching his breath a little, as the miners scrambled for their gear. The silent stillness that had preceded their emergence transformed into muttered cursing and the clanging of equipment while Kingsley let out a huff of indignant self-satisfaction.

Sir, pleaded Kenneth, Sir, there is nothing they can do. The last of the miners hustled into the mine, giving Kenneth a look of sympathy before vanishing past him.