Millionaire Cowboy Heard Them Laugh at Widow’s Old Dress—His Next Move Silenced Everyone
Chapter 8
They buried Samuel Pike two days later.
His death was called an accident.
No one believed it.
Silas visited the old mill afterward.
The building had been abandoned for years.
Inside, he found blood on the floor.
Near the wall lay a broken lantern.
Then he saw something beneath a plank.
A small leather packet.
Inside was a letter.
Thomas Hale had written it.
Silas read it slowly.
Silas,
If you have found this, then Samuel is dead.
I was wrong to think the records alone would be enough.
Voss has copies of every forged deed.
But the original ledger is not in the county office.
It was sent to Philadelphia.
Ask the man who owns the river warehouse.
Silas folded the letter.
A shadow moved outside.
He turned.
A gunshot cracked through the window.
Silas dropped behind a beam.
Another shot.
He reached for his pistol.
The shooter ran.
Silas chased him into the trees.
The man was fast.
But Silas was faster.
He caught him near the river.
The attacker fought desperately.
Silas pinned him against a tree.
“Who sent you?”
The man spat blood.
Silas tightened his grip.
“Voss?”
The man said nothing.
Silas released him just enough to breathe.
“Tell me.”
The man whispered:
“Voss didn’t send me.”
Silas froze.
“Who did?”
The man looked terrified.
“Your banker.”
Then he struck Silas with his head and escaped into the woods.
Silas stood motionless.
His banker.
That meant someone much closer to his fortune was involved.
And suddenly his wealth no longer felt like protection.
It felt like bait.
