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144 pages

English

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The Story…….
The story starts as a ‘burnt-out’ bounty hunter and a ‘floundering’ waitress find each other. After a week of stepping out, they fall in love. Realizing they had both been lifelong ‘range rats,’ the two set out to build a business out of reloading once fired brass.
Needing a prototype automatic machine to sort and load ammo, they went to Salt Lake City to learn how to operate such machines. Concurrently they made friends with three other couples in similar training classes. After one month, they returned to Denver to purchase a building, renovate it, purchase houses for their friends’ housing, and arranged for the automated sorters and reloaders to be installed.
With their six friends as essential workers, the factory was producing 220,000 loaded rounds per week and turned out some incredible profits till things came to a halt with the impending WWI. Electing not to be commandeered but to work with the War Department, the business prospered making 30-06 rifle and 45 ACP pistol ammo.
With the end of the war in 1917, the business went thru the 1918 Influenza pandemic and was closed for months. After that, the business flourished during the Roaring 20’s till the Stock Market crash of 1929. The business again closed during the Great Depression till the late 1930’s in preparation for WWII. After that war, the Duo now in their late 50’s and wealthy, passed the business to their son and daughter.

Sujets

Westerns

Fiction

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Publié par	Xlibris US
Date de parution	24 avril 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781669874454
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

COLORADO RELOAD

A Western Fiction

(Bounty hunting, Entrepreneur and a Western Romance)

Richard M Beloin MD

Copyright © 2023 by Richard M Beloin MD.

ISBN:
Softcover
978-1-6698-7446-1

eBook
978-1-6698-7445-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business events, and products are all the result of the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, people, and locations are purely coincidental.

Some of my stories occur during well documented historical events such as the 1918 Influeza, WW1, the Roaring 20’s, and so on. It is again coincidental that this story occurs during these times, but the story itself does not alter the the historical facts.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 04/24/2023

Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
852980
CONTENTS
Dedication

Chapter 1 — The Beginning
Chapter 2 — Another Range Rat
Chapter 3 — The Road to Reality
Chapter 4 — The Trip to Utah
Chapter 5 — Learning the Trade
Chapter 6 — Utah back to Colorado
Chapter 7 — Building a Business
Chapter 8 — Getting Started
Chapter 9 — The Golden Year
Chapter 10 — Preparing For War
Chapter 11 — Wartime and a Pandemic
Chapter 12 — The Future
Chapter 13 — WW2 and the Aftermath

Epilogue
About the Author
Author’s Publications
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to the thousands of private reloading individuals who always wondered if they could ever turn their favorite hobby of reloading into a fulltime occupation.
CHAPTER 1
The Beginning
It was a sunny and warm August day when two bounty hunters were going to the Denver Wells Fargo bank to make a deposit. Their last caper netted them each $3,000. As they approached the bank, Hank saw a rider holding the reins of six more horses. The only explanation was clear—a bank robbery was in progress.
Within seconds, shooting started in the bank as one outlaw after another was rushing out of the bank. Realizing what was to happen, the bounty hunters drew their side arms and prepared for an all-out fight. Hank and Ralph fought as hard as possible and managed to put all seven outlaws down. Hank caught a bullet in his upper left arm as Ralph was on the ground. When Hank saw the gut gun-shot wound, he reacted instinctively. Without thinking, he picked up Ralph and yelled, “show me the way to the hospital!”
Three blocks later he dropped Ralph on an emergency room stretcher and yelled, “gun-shot wound!” In seconds, Ralph was surrounded by several doctors and nurses, as he was whisked away to the operating room for a presumed bleeding spleen.
Half an hour later, one of the doctors came to speak to Hank. “I’m Doc Ellis, a medical doctor. The two surgeons have clamped off the splenic artery and blood loss has stopped. The problem is that he has lost a massive amount of blood and the prognosis is guarded. But for now, let me see your wound.” After examining it, the doc said, “thanks to wearing short sleeves, the wound is free of detritus. I will irrigate it with carbolic acid and then suture the exit wound and insert a rubber drain to the front and suture that entry as well. The drain will stay in place for 48 hours to allow drainage of fluids and hopefully prevent infection.” It was another two hours before the surgeons came to speak to Hank. Doc Bell said, “we have removed his spleen, evacuated the abdomen of the blood loss, but it is going to be touch and go for the next three days. There is a complication beyond the blood loss, his blood tested high for sugar. We do not have any treatment for diabetes, and he has probably been a latent diabetic for some time. The bottom line, excessive blood loss and diabetes is a perfect set up for infection. I may add, that before he was placed under with chloroform, he did ask that I give you this. It is his last will and testament, prepared and signed by an attorney, notarized, and filed with the Denver probate court. Pray for him and we will keep you posted.”
Day after day, Hank would spend hours in Ralph’s room. He had not yet regained consciousness since surgery. He was on IV fluids and oxygen. The third day his temperature spiked to 104. There were clear signs of infection and his blood pressure dropped drastically. Three hours later, Ralph passed away.
*
After the burial, Hank was at a loss. He spent days in the saloon drinking his life away. Noticing his melancholy, a man came over and introduced himself. “Hi, my name is Roger Cahill. I have been in a melancholy state for some time since I was laid off from the railroad during their second round of a ‘RIF’ (reduction in forces). I have decided to go ahead and start looking for another job. Not knowing what you have done for a living, if there have been changes like me, then it is time to find something else to do.”
Hank felt comfortable with this man and added, “I only know being a bounty hunter, and doing so alone is catamount to suicide. So what do I do?” “Become a lawman or security agent.” “Na-aw, I want to get away from living by the gun!” “Well, I guess you are going to walk the streets looking for ‘help wanted’ sign. Unless you have an old hobby that you can finance into a business for profit.”
Hank pondered on that statement. “Well I might have one. So where do you live and are you interested in a job working for me. “I live at 9 Lincoln Avenue, and I would love a job working for you.” “But you don’t know what the job is and I will need to find a house with an extra-large garage.” “I don’t care what it is, but I prefer working inside since I have been working outside for the railroad long enough. By the way, the house next to me is for sale and it has a three-car garage with a carriage lean-to.” Hank thought, “The only hobby I ever had was when I was working in a gun shop during my high school days. I would be sent to the range to pick up range brass and then reload them for sale in the gun shop. I always thought that it was a waste and a shame how shooters would discard their once fired brass and walk away. I bet you there is a profit to be made if the business is properly set up. Since I have the money, I think I am going to go for it.” “Ok Roger, here is your sign on bonus of $250 for you to pay your creditors and buy some work clothes. I will get back to you when I have a job for you.”
That same afternoon, Hank arrived with Silvio Dumassi, the bank’s real-estate agent. Hank had no reservations, paid the asking price of $5,000 for a completely furnished house, an office, a three-car unused garage, lean-to, horse barn, and a two-acre pasture. After the sale, Roger was hired at $5 a day, which was twice the state’s minimum and railroad wage. His first job, travel around the private shooting ranges and buy their once fired brass as long as the brass was clean of dirt, dry, and not fired from black powder loaded cartridges. Roger had drawing rights on Hank’s newly formed bank account and was told to pay 25 cents a pound for range brass. With a 5-gallon bucket weighing +-75 pounds, the usual rate was $18.75. Roger was instructed to pay $20 to entice gun range owners to save their brass for Hank, deliver them by 5-gallon buckets to 7-Lincoln Avenue for instant cash, and not bother to deliver a minimum of $1,000 pounds to the smelter for the purpose of reclaiming the metals.
*
Meanwhile, Hank had several errands to run. His first was at Summerland’s hardware shop where he purchased two dozen 5-gallon synthetic pails and ordered twenty 20-gallon steel drum with a sealing cover. Other minor items included several one-gallon grain scoops, and heavy-duty leather gloves to handle brass casings.
Next, Hank met with Silvio. “I need to own some shooting ranges.” “Well funny you should ask, but the city council has decided to get out of the range business and their four municipal ranges are for sale.” “Great, let’s go see the nearest one.” Arriving at the 10 th street range, they were greeted by an older man whose job was to sweep the shooting platforms each day and collect the brass casings as he would then store them into 20-gallon drums in the municipal shed.
Hank then said, “I hear that the four municipal ranges are for sale.
So if they sell, what are you going to do for work.” “No idea, but I’ll likely be out of a job.” “Would you consider working for me at $5 a day and do the same job you are now doing except bring the daily brass case picks to my house garage.” “Heck yes, but I admit that you are significantly increasing my wages, as I am paid $1.25 for a half day’s work to collect all four ranges, which I can do because of the plank shooting platforms.” “That’s Ok, and for the rest of the day, you can work with Roger Cahill in my garage sorting brass. Anyways, first I have to purchase all four ranges. But out of curiosity, what is the condition of the brass in the municipal shed?” “Clean as a whistle, looks like new.” So they are dry, clean, free of dirt or black powder fired cases?” “Absolutely and there are six 20-gallon drums full to the top. And by the way, my name is Orville Thurman, and you ar