When the sheriff got to the lodge he was impressed with the restoration work. He could not remember it looking so good! he asked where the leader's office was.
"The old bomb shelter," he was told, "has been converted into The Speaker's quarters."
"Strange place for quarters," the sheriff thought, but he made his way there. A security guard met him at the door.;
"I know why you're here," he announced, "The Speaker has decided not to discuss the snowmobile issue with you. Perhaps you can discuss something later, but The Speaker does not want to be disturbed at this time."
"I'm the county sheriff!" the sheriff barked, "If I say I want to talk to somebody, by God, they're going to talk to me! Now, get out of my way!"
The security guard remained motionless, blocking the door. The sheriff reached up, grabbed him, threw him aside, and reached for the door. The security guard grabbed him, spun him around, and pushed him away, retaking his position. The sheriff charged forward again, and the two men struggled for several minutes. The security guard could obviously have put up a better fight, but he let the sheriff pin him. The sheriff withdrew his handcuffs, cuffed the man, hauled him to his feet, and put him in his cruiser.
"You're under arrest!" he screamed, "for accosting a county officer." He looked towards the entrance and found three more guards had emerged and now blocked it.
Suddenly cars rolled up from all directions blocking in his cruiser. Dozens of people emerged from them. The sheriff keyed his microphone. "Dispatch!" he snapped, "I'm up at the lodge. I've got trouble. I've been accosted by one of their security guards. I've placed him under arrest. Now they've blocked me in. Get some help up here!"
"Understood!" dispatch answered. "We just monitored a call on the state police band. The resort people have called for help saying you're attacking their staff. There should be a trooper arriving any minute. Three of our people will be there in ten."
"Understood!" the sheriff said, "Ten four!"
He stood waiting. In a few moments the state police cruiser pulled up. It was the local sergeant, Donnell. "Sheriff," he remarked, coming up, "what's going on here? These people say you're attacking their staff without cause."
"I want to talk to the son of a bitch that leads these people," the sheriff explained. "There's some kind of trouble about the snowmobile trails. I wanted to see if I could get it resolved without a whole bunch of trouble, but this one in the car wouldn't let me in! And when I moved him out of the way and tried to go in, he attacked me."
The trooper took off his hat and scratched his head. Leaning closer he whispered "Greg, I know you're upset, but think a minute. You have no crime to investigate, no search warrant. There doesn't seem to be anyone in distress here. You've got no just cause to enter these premises, without the occupants' consent. You may feel you're justified but legally you haven't got a prayer! If these people insist I arrest you for assaulting their security guard, I'd have to! Why don't we just let him go and roll on out of here? Maybe if you make an appointment, their leader will speak to you later."
Daniels stared at him, then at the crowd around him. "Damn!" he cursed. He opened the car, helped the man out, and uncuffed him.
"If you wanna make a complaint with the trooper," he snapped, "you're free do do so. It will be forwarded to the county officials." He keyed his mike. "Dispatch," he moaned, "tell the deputies to return to their duties. The situation here is under control."
The security officer rubbed his wrists. "I won't be making a complaint," he remarked. "Just a misunderstanding."
The sheriff nodded. "If you folks will move your cars," he growled," I'll leave your property!"
The people quickly obliged. The sheriff drove back to his office. The heavy set dispatcher grinned at him as he came in.
"You've got a dozen calls," she remarked. "Everybody's screaming their heads off!"
"I'm sure they are!" the sheriff growled. That Spiritist leader, he goes up to Mayfield every Thursday, doesn't he?"
"I believe so," the dispatcher answered.
"I want a deputy at the resort entrance first thing Thusday," the sheriff continued, "and he's to sit there all day if he has to, but when that guy's car pulls onto the county road I want him to stop him and order him to follow him to the office, that I want to speak with him. By God, let's see them defy me off their god damned property!"
That evening an emergency meeting of the snowmobile club gathered at their club house. Some wanted to take violent action, but Dinsmore discouraged that. "That'll only make sympathy for them," he explained. "No, don't want that. But there's got to be another way to open our trails back up!"
One of the members stood. "What if we do what the people in Crawford did when those people wouldn't let them use that road they'd built? The county took it, and made it a county road. They called it abadai domain."
"That's eminent domain," Dinsmore corrected with a big grin, "and that's a hell of an idea, Jim! We'll petition the county to take the snowmobile trails by eminent domain, make them public property. Then the damned bastards can't keep us out, that's for sure!"

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