Chapter 55: Eight Thousand Dollars
A week later, Davey returned with five gold bars.
What amused and surprised him was discovering that during those seven days, Donal had already earned over five thousand dollars for him.
“Mr. Callander, here’s the ledger. I’ve kept all the money in this chest,” Donal said respectfully, handing over the ledger, the locked money box, and its key.
Inside the house, Davey flipped through the ledger, which recorded every expense and income in neat, meticulous detail. Then he opened the chest and counted the money inside—over six thousand dollars in total.
It didn’t take long for him to understand: Donal had been covering all the production costs out of his own pocket and hadn’t taken a single cent for himself.
Davey immediately pulled out $1,260 and handed it to him.
“This is what you’ve earned. You shouldn’t have to pay the costs yourself.”
When Donal received his $1,260, he couldn’t hide his excitement. He had never made that much money in one go before.
Back when he was dealing illegal medicine, his monthly profits only came to a few hundred dollars. After paying off the police and sending Colm his cut, he’d be lucky to keep three hundred for himself. Between maintaining his crew and daily expenses, he could barely save anything. It had taken him nearly two years of scraping together money just to buy this house.
But now—he’d earned $1,260 in just seven days. It was something he’d never dared dream of.
Faster than robbery, and a whole lot safer.
“Looks like six hundred bottles a day is about the most we can move in Valentine,” Davey said after some thought. “It’s time we expanded.”
“Sheriff Hanley in Strawberry is a friend of mine. Take a few trustworthy men there and start selling our moonshine.”
“Same approach as before—first, gift a few bottles to the local sheriff’s office, then begin sales in the usual way.”
“Strawberry is a dry town, so keep a low profile. See if you can recruit some reliable locals while you’re there. Our operation’s growing—we’ll need more hands.”
“And here in Valentine, bring in a few more men as well. We can’t depend solely on the police for protection.”
Valentine was a fairly prosperous cattle town with a permanent population of around five thousand and plenty of drifters passing through. Still, not everyone could afford expensive liquor every day. For most working men, buying a bottle every three days was already a stretch.
After all, they had families to support, wives and children to care for, and other expenses besides drink. Even so, a bottle every three days—at $1.85 a pop—already took up nearly half a month’s wages for some.
So, no matter how fine Davey’s moonshine was, the Valentine market had reached its limit.
“Mr. Callander,” Donal said, “there’s something else. Because our moonshine is cheaper and tastes just as good as the branded stuff—in fact, many people like it even better than whiskey or brandy—the saloons in Valentine have gone dead quiet. Nobody’s buying their liquor anymore.”
“Of course, neither the Old Saloon nor Smithfield Saloon dares oppose us, and Sheriff Malloy certainly won’t help them.”
“But Mr. Field from Smithfield’s and Mr. Jos from the Old Saloon have asked to meet you. They want to discuss a partnership.”
“If this keeps up, both saloons might go under.”
Donal spoke with a grin.
Their moonshine had swallowed the market whole. Most of Valentine’s drinkers and drunks now bought from them directly, leaving the saloons deserted. Apart from the occasional traveler, no one went there to drink anymore.
The two saloon owners were getting desperate. Their only hope was to start selling Davey’s moonshine through their establishments—otherwise, they’d soon be out of business.
They had approached Donal first, but he’d told them only Davey could approve such a deal.
Davey nodded thoughtfully. “It’ll cut into our profits a little, but there’s no need to push others into ruin. Our business isn’t limited to Valentine.”
“Tell them this, Donal—tonight, I’ll be waiting for them at Wells Restaurant.”
Davey might have held the upper hand in Valentine, but monopolizing the liquor trade outright would only breed resentment. The small bars weren’t much of a concern, but men who could open large saloons in Valentine had their own networks and influence. They were people of standing in the town.
In truth, Davey had already planned to bring the saloons into his business eventually. He’d known his moonshine would sell well—but not this well. Reaching such heights in just seven days was beyond even his expectations.
Now, with the five gold bars worth about three thousand dollars and over five thousand from moonshine profits,
Davey’s fortune had risen to more than eight thousand dollars in total.
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.