Allen Ames left Ben’s office at 5, Ben having told him he’d ponder how best to approach a deal with Ed Tate to take over his string. Doc arrived for the Curmudgeons’ ritual end-of-week shared libation. Ben explained Allen’s dream as they sipped their first drams of The Macallan.
“What do you suppose Ed Tate has got to live on in retirement?” Sam asked.
“Don’t know, but Ed has always been sober and frugal. I’ll bet he’s saved enough, but he’ll need to get paid for his truck, trailer and horses. Truck’s got 200,000 miles on it, but diesel duallys hold their value. Trailer’s pretty old. Four good dog horses — they have gotten high lately. Allen has not got cash or credit enough to do it on his own. And his father won’t lend him a nickel, dead set against Allen becoming a handler.”
By the time the Curmudgeons had finished their dividends of The Macallan, they had decided on a plan. They would lend Allen Ames what he needed to buy Ed’s truck, trailer, horses and tack, so he could offer Ed cash for those. Allen would be told the loan had been arranged by Ben through an unnamed client in the small loan business (the note would be payable over seven years with nominal interest and made out to Elderventures LLC, an entity owned by Ben and Sam and used for deals such as this where they expected a write off). Ben would go with Allen to make the offer to Ed, which would include the proposition Allen would headquarter at Ed’s farm. Ben would also offer to talk with Ed’s owners and encourage them to place their dogs with Allen.
Allen was nervous as a cat as Ben laid out the proposition to Ed. By near the end Ed Tate was smiling.
“I was hoping that was what y’all were coming here to offer me. Sure, I’ll take the deal. On the two coming derbies — I own them — you finish them, we become co-owners. I’ll go to North Dakota with you in July, arrange for you to take over the training lease I’ve had there twenty years, drive the Mule with the dogs for you to work.”
With that the deal was sealed with handshakes. Next day Ben called Ed’s owners. The two who owned Ed’s two best dogs agreed to leave them with Allen through the coming season. After that it would be their option to stay or leave.
July first arrived, and Allen and Ed departed for North Dakota, the trailer laden with dogs and horses. Allen’s pickup followed, driven by a pair of disadvantaged teenagers Ben and Sam were sponsoring (and paying) as helpers for Allen. This pickup held in its home-made-by Allen plywood dog box and airline crates tied by bungie cords on top a dozen coming derbies owned by quail plantations, candidates for their wagon strings to be trained by Allen and his help in North Dakota. Ben and Sam had recruited these young dogs by calling in chips earned by favors they’d done for and friendships they held with plantation owners or managers or both.
A week before the North Dakota Classics were to commence after Labor Day, Ben called Allen. The summer training season had gone well. Birds were plentiful enough. The plantation dogs were country broke, some plumb broke. One of the two derby prospects Ed had owned would make a good wagon dog, but the other showed signs of genius. He was entered in the two derby stakes and the second of the two all-age stakes.
Ben enquired of Ed’s health at Doc’s request. Allen said it seemed pretty good. Ed was excited about the derby, looked forward to its performance in the oncoming trials. Ben and Sam decided to fly to Minot and drive to Columbus and watch some of the trials.
The teenage helpers had flown home to start school when Ben and Sam arrived at Columbus, so there was room for them to stay in the farmhouse that came with Ed’s (now Allen’s) training lease. The curmudgeons had arrived the afternoon before the start of the first derby stake. The derby Allen and Ed co-owned and Allen would handle had drawn the first day’s last brace. Ben had bought in Minot steaks to grill for supper. As Allen managed the grilling the four sipped drinks and discussed the summer and then the high-hopes derby’s prospects for tomorrow.
“He’s the best I’ve had in thirty years, but as Ben knows a fall derby that’s promising can blow up any minute,” Ed said. Allen was nervous as a cat.
“Is he broke?” Ben asked. Ed and Allen smiled ruefully. Allen said, “Most of the time.”
Soon after supper was finished, the four were fast asleep.
Weather was ideal for the trials, temperatures in the 50s with clear or lightly overcast skies, soft winds 10 to 15 mph. The derby performances were largely disappointing until the first brace after lunch when a male pointer entry scored thee good finds and ran well with a good finish. He had set the standard.
Then the day’s final brace ‘s time arrived, and Allen got the promising derby off the chain , led it by a rein to the line and handed it off to the handler who would scout for him, a youngster like him who had trained this season on adjoining mixed crop and prairie pasture land. It was a Rebel-White Dog cross with a perfect liver mask and ears and a small dot at the base of its poker-straight tail, a truly handsome derby. When released, Ben recognized its light footed gait and high-headed carriage, traits passed to it by both parents.
In its half-hour down, the derby, call name Ben (after Ben Reach of course) scored three limb finds and scorched its course. At the day’s end it was clearly the gallery’s first place dog, with the first-brace- after-lunch entry a close second. But Ben suspected the judges (or one of them) might still be carrying the after-lunch entry first, based on their facial expressions.
The derby stake would finish after one second-day afternoon brace. To the surprise of all riding (except Ben Reach) the judges announced before lunch a tentative call-back of the derby Ben and yesterday’s after-lunch entry to determine first-place. As Ben had suspected, the judges were split on which of the two should get first. The other derby called back was handled by the young man who had scouted for Allen. Ed Tate announced he would scout in the callback. Doc frowned when he heard it.
During the lunch break Sam and Ben conferred in their rented pickup. “He should not do it. He has not ridden all summer, on my orders. I strongly advised him not to, but he insists on doing it.” Ben offered no comment. He understood how Ed felt. Winning first in the season’s opening prairie derby stake would give Allen’s fledgling career a good boost.
The last brace of derbies were picked up early and the called back derbies brought to the line, Ed leading the derby Ben. They struck out south on the second thirty-minute course, having been released at the cemetery. After fifteen minutes down the judges called for pickup — derby Ben had scored a broke find on a pheasant and out-hunted and out-reached its brace mate, all at the front. Ed seemed no worse for wear, to Sam’s relief.
That night Ben hosted the four for dinner at a Crosby motel restaurant. It was a jolly repast, with a happy Ed regaling the group with story after story of funny prairie experiences from his long career.
Next morning the trial resumed with hour all-age braces. Ben and Sam departed for Minot at lunch time. They would fly home early next morning, the first leg a flight to Denver with a non-stop connection to Atlanta. Allen called them at the Minot motel that evening with news his two all-age entries had performed well and in his judgement were standing one and two with the first full day of all-age running completed. Doc asked about Ed. “Happy,” said Allen.
When the Curmudgeons landed in Denver next morning, Ben had a message on his cell phone to call Allen. On voice mail he sounded distressed. When Ben reached him he told Ben he’d found Ed dead in his bed at five a.m. He had apparently died in his sleep and suffered no obvious distress. Doc overheard the conversation through speaker mode.
“He died as all us old men hope for Son, don’t be distressed,” Doc said.
“The last thing Ed said to me before we went to bed last night was, ‘If I do not wake up in the morning, I will have died a happy man,’” Allen said.
On the flight to Atlanta from Denver, Sam asked Ben who would inherit from Ed, who had no children.
“Last thing he did before leaving for North Dakota was sign a will leaving all he had to Allen. It’s not a large amount, but Allen will have his house and farm debt-free and there will be enough to pay our loan,” Ben said.