Posted April 14, 2022 / Caroline Mundee
Caroline had entered the kitchen, the place that Mammy normally ruled with an iron hand, she did not like people poking about her kitchen. Caroline got it, anymore than she would like someone other than her performing on stage. Everyone had their place in the saloon. There was the pot of coffee kept warm on the stove. Well, that wasn't going to work though, that coffee would be way too hot for what she wanted it for. So she reached for a cup and then went over by the water barrel they had in the corner of the room. Using the dipper she scooped a bit of water and put it into the cup. Then went over to the coffee pot, using a thick towel to pick it up and pour just some of it into the cup right into the water. That should help some.
"How's that coffee coming?" came the loud voice of Fortner, her boss. Jeez, already? She had half a mind to yell back, that if he wasn't satisfied with her doing it, he could come in and pour the damn thing himself. But Fortner was the boss.
She blew into it now too then waved her hand over it back and forth. Then with a sigh she headed back out and paused in the back of the bar to reach for a liquor bottle. Ralph noticed her of course and sidled over.
"What the hell is up?" he whispered.
"Nothin' good, hon, nothin' good and somehow I got roped inta it," it was plain she was not happy.
Ralph didn't press it.
She then poured about a shot ful of her own fake whiskey (it was colored water), no sense wasting good stuff for a drink that was not even gonna be drank or drunk or however one said it.
Well, it would have to do, the veteran saloon girl then headed for the card table.
"Alrighty, here's the coffee, Mr. Potee, and bucked up with whiskey just like you requested."
She glanced at Fortner, not quite sure when she was even supposed to spill it?
Posted April 15, 2022 / Franklin Fortner
Things were moving smoothly along. The cagey Fortner had the mark right where he wanted him.
One irritant was Arabella who'd somehow allied herself with the sob buster. This was quite apparent when, after he asked if her if he could touch her lucky piece again, and she answered him, ""Let me give you a kiss fer luck!" Fortner couldn't think of anything more distasteful for the girl to do.
Potee, on the other hand, relished in the touch of her soft lips. Maude never felt like THIS! he thought.
But when she hissed into his ear, "I think you should fold", he bristled.
"Are you confounded crazy! Fold?! You better leave the card playin' to the men, lil' girl." It was patently patronizing. "Go on!" he continued. "Go do yer chores or play the pie-ano. Git!"
The man was doing Fortner's work, and it pleased the saloon owner. "He's right," he said to Arabella. "I'm sure there's some things you have to do. Or, tell you what. Why don't you play some music for us?" All this was said kindly.
Then, as if on cue, Caroline came along with the coffee.
"Just set it down, please. I'll let you know when you can clear it." This last was emphasized and followed by a discreet wink of his left eye.
"Bets?" Fortner asked again.
Potee grandly pushed a stack of coins and bills to where the ante lay. "That's about a hundred greenbacks!" he slurred. After all, he had three Jacks. The outlook was good. At the very least he had three-of-a-kind and possibly either four-of-a-kind or a full-house.
"I'll see that, and raise you $50," countered Frank Fortner.
This started a volley of betting that only ended when Potee had bet almost his entire bank.
"Cards?" asked Fortner.
"Two," the sod buster answered, tossing down his two discards.
"Horace Potee gets two cards," Fortner called out like a croupier. Then, with the skill of a magician, he took a card from the deck and palmed the Jack from his hand and sent the two in Potee's direction.
The sod buster gasped when he saw that he saw that he had the final Jack. What he didn't know was that Fortner still had his original three Aces.
"Bet?" he asked Potee.
Potee made a big show of shoving his remaining bank to join the sizeable pot. "Pop goes the Weasel!" he cried.
"I'll see you and raise you $100," Fortner announced.
Potee was out of money and told Fortner so.
"What do you mean?" Fortner scolded. "When you come to a table you bring your money!"
This change of tone flustered Potee. He was about to lose his new friends because he was coming off like a small fry.
"Haven't you got anything you can bet?" Fortner pressed.
Horace looked down at the four, gleaming Jacks. "I got my homestead," he answered even though he felt a stab of pain. "It's worth at least $100." He reached into his coat pocket and took out his deed. He'd had it in his pocket because he'd come to town not only try his luck at the card table, but to also see if he could use it as collateral at the Bank.
"I call," he said as a challenge.
Now was the time.
"Caroline," Fortner called as he studied his hand. "Will you please clear this stuff," he pointed at he coffee mugs. "We need more room."
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Posted April 16, 2022 / Arabella Mudd
Arabella neither went back to her chores nor played the piano as Potee had so short-temperedly commanded her, she just stood back from the game and continued watching, still highly suspicious of the way Fortner and her own friend Caroline were acting.
Sure, Mr Potee's words to her had hardly commended him to her feelings, but after six months working in the saloon, she had become somewhat inured to the way men spoke in their cups. In many ways it was refreshing and illuminating to hear what was really going on in the male mind: for excessive alcohol had the tendency to make them speak it.
Years, decades, later, someone asked her how she knew so much about men, and the way men's tiny minds worked, when she clearly had never been that intimate with any of the species, she had replied "Seeing a bunch of them get drunk every night'll tell you all you ever need to know about fellers."
Anyhow: what was about to transpire was to tell her all she ever needed to know bout one particular man, and affect the whole course of her future.
Posted April 16, 2022 / Micah McGregor
The lanky rancher stood close beside the young girl he knew as Arabella. When she smooched the sod buster he almost wondered out loud, What did she see in him? Takes all kinds, I guess.
It was Micah McGregor on his bi-weekly trip to town. He always stopped at the hardware, the Grain & Feed, and always the Star Dust if only to whet his whistle. He was about to go up to the bar and order another whisky when the little gal who played the piano and sang, caught his attention.
"Hey little Miss!" he said. "I wonder if I could be asking you something?"
Posted April 16, 2022 / Caroline Mundee
The fool drunkard couldn't see what was going on, how he was being set up for a big fall. He was going to gamble away not just his money now but also the deed to his farm. Caroline just stood there watching it all go down, not liking any of this but not about to risk her livelihood for the sake of this idiot. She worried too that foolish Arabella might take a step too far and truly anger their boss. But the time for thoughts was suddenly over. She was being summoned to play her part in this.
"Caroline," Fortner called as he studied his hand.
"Yeah?" she answered.
"Will you please clear this stuff," he pointed at he coffee mugs. "We need more room."
"Sure thing, boss,"Caroline moved up to the card table, she was standing immediately to the left of Potee but above his left shoulder for he was sitting there studying his hand. Her hand reached for Potee's coffee cup, started to raise it up off the table.
That's when she launched into her 'clumsy' act, pretending to stumble then conveniently letting go of the cup handle so the coffee splashed down on the edge of the table by Potee's lap and a good portion of the at best lukewarm liquid landed down in the farmer's lap.
"Oh dammit, so sorry! It slipped..." Caroline cried out in her most convincing performance voice and face.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Posted April 17, 2022 / Arabella Mudd
Arabella was watching the game intently when old Mr McGregor started talking to her.
"Hey little Miss!" he said. "I wonder if I could be asking you something?"
"Oh, Howdy, Mr McGregor." she piped up, not taking her eye off Potee and his rival or the suspicious looking Caroline. She knew that girl intimately, and she... well, she just wan't acting right, somehow. On the other hand, Arabella still had to keep the customers happy, and she carried on talking to the old feller as she watched.
"Sure, I'll come over in a second and you can ask me anything you like." she offered: he always seemed to enjoy chatting with the lively girl. He sure did ask some funny questions but he always gave her a big tip.
"I'm just watching this here poker game first. There's something funny about it, I tried to warn Mr Potee but... ooooh! There it goes!!" she exclaimed excitedly as Caroline dumped a mugful of coffee into Horace's lap. She grabbed onto Mr McGregor's arm in excitement, then jabbed her finger in his tummy as she looked up at him and said "I told you they was up to sumthin!"
Posted April 18, 2022 / Franklin Fortner
"Will you please clear this stuff," he pointed at the coffee mugs. "We need more room."
"Sure thing, boss,"Caroline moved up to the card table, she was standing immediately to the left of Potee but above his left shoulder for he was sitting there studying his hand. Her hand reached for Potee's coffee cup, started to raise it up off the table.
That's when she launched into her 'clumsy' act, pretending to stumble then conveniently letting go of the cup handle so the coffee splashed down on the edge of the table by Potee's lap and a good portion of the at best lukewarm liquid landed down in the farmer's lap.
"Oh dammit, so sorry! It slipped..." Caroline cried out in her most convincing performance voice and face.
The card table immediately descended into chaos. Potee jumped up and his knees hit the table top causing coins to slide and other cups to tip over. Hiram Priest could be heard shouting. "Oh fer Christ's sake!" Fortner lunged across the table in Potee's direction in order to keep the table steady.
"Ya fool!" yelled Potee at Caroline. His back now to the table. "Look what you done!"
"Lay off of her!" Fortner warned him. "It was just an accident."
McGregor, who'd been talking to Arabella, knew something was afoot. He'd been around saloons and card games for many years. He was a bit too big and too rugged to ever have been cheated, but he knew a swindle when he saw one. Then there was Arabella whose voice, ever musical to his ear, even when in distressed chimed in, " "I told you they was up to sumthin!" To this, McGregor each over and yanked her to the side.
"Don't say nuthin," he whispered in her ear. "Leave it alone."
So, after Potee brushed off the front of his pants, and Fortner straightened his suit front, the both sat back down.
"There's the pot." he said, pointing to the impressive pile of money with the deed atop it. "You saw my bet, and I now call."
Potee was anxious to win his money and skedaddle. "What ya got?" He asked in an unfriendly tone.
Fortner took his hand and laid his hand face-up on the table. By now, a small crowd had gathered. He held three Aces, a ten and an eight.
"Three of a kind -- Aces" he said.
Potee grinned as he turned over his cards without looking at them. "Four Jacks!" he said triumphantly.
There was a buzz around the table, and Fortner asked him, "Where?"
The drunken sod buster's mouth fell open. "What a minute!" he began angrily. "Wait just a goddamn minute! I had a jack in the hole!" But he was wrong, in front of him was a deuce, three Jacks, and nestled among them was a King.
The true viciousness of Franklin Fortner was then unmasked. "Aces beat Jacks. You lost, Potee! You are so fucking drunk you don't know a Jack from a King. So if you know what's good for you, you'll fucking apologize to me and the lady," he pointed to Caroline, "and then you'll back out of here. Got that?"
"You guys are card cheats! Nothing but card cheats!" Potee was shouting now.
"Watch your mouth," Fortner warned him.
"You was drunk, mister!" a patron could be heard saying. Another voice said, "Yeah. He's right mister. We could tell you was drunk all the way across the room."
Potee knew he was outnumbered. He looked at a sea of unsympathetic faces, the card table, Caroline whom he mistakenly thought as a friend, and Fortner, his steal gray eyes, hard and cold. His voice was shaking. "I'll be back! I'll be back!" he kept repeating. He brusquely pushed past Arabella and headed for the exit. The crowd gave him a lot of leeway as he stomped out.
Hiram Priest who, by then, was standing beside Fortner, said, "He's going to be trouble."
Posted April 19, 2022 / Caroline Mundee
"Oh fer Christ's sake!" Potee was, justifiably, upset as Caroline backed away just in case the drunk decided to take a swing at her, one never knew with drunks. She'd been punched, kicked, even choked in her time working saloons.
"Sorry!" Caroline was actually sincere about that apology, this had not been anything she wanted to get involved with but her boss' doing.
Fortner lunged across the table in Potee's direction in order to keep the table steady.
"Ya fool!" yelled Potee at Caroline. His back now to the table. "Look what you done!"
"Lay off of her!" Fortner warned him. "It was just an accident."
Now that was a lie but nothing Caroline could do but let this mess all play out, ashamed by her role in it too. However there was a lot of money at stake on this hand, plus even that land deed (how could Potee be so stupid!) so the game resumed. Of course Caroline already knew who was going to win, just not exactly sure HOW.
Sure enough when the hands were laid out, Potee was so cocksure he'd won only to find out he didn't have the four jacks he thought he did. Caroline bit her lip and but kept still. Now emotions exploded. Potee was furious and sure he had been cheated (which of course he had)
Fortner rubbed it in too.
"Aces beat Jacks. You lost, Potee! You are so fucking drunk you don't know a Jack from a King. So if you know what's good for you, you'll fucking apologize to me and the lady," he pointed to Caroline, "and then you'll back out of here. Got that?"
"I don't want an apology...just leave, mister. Just get out of here before ........." Caroline didn't even want to voice her fears. Even some of the other saloon goers were against Potee, anyone with any sort of powers of observation knew the farmer was drunk on his feet. That pretty much undercut the veracity of his accusations. At least he had enough common sense left to beat a retreat out of the place.
"I'll be back! I'll be back!" Potee kept repeating. He brusquely pushed past Arabella and headed for the exit. The crowd gave him a lot of leeway as he stomped out.
Hiram Priest who, by then, was standing beside Fortner, said, "He's going to be trouble."
Caroline cast an angry glare at that man then shared that glare with Fortner too. She so wanted to say something but did not. This job was her life. This place her home.
"I'm gonna take the cups back inta the kitchen," instead she excused herself, took a cup in each hand and headed out of the room.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Posted April 19, 2022 / Arabella Mudd
I'll be back! I'll be back!" Potee kept repeating. He brusquely pushed past Arabella and headed for the exit. The crowd gave him a lot of leeway as he stomped out.
Arabella's skinny body was pushed easily aside, but that didn't stop her chasing after Mr Potee as the sound of the saloon patrons ganging up on him rang in her ears. She was halfway down the Main street when she gave up and looked back at the place she had called her home for the last six months. She heard a laugh from inside.
She and Caroline were due to be performing soon, and she couldn't let her down; there wasn't time to go to church and pray and seek guidance from Jesus there. She could only look up at the darkening sky and ask, beg for help. Christ answered her call, His gentle hand touched her shoulder and His strong, reassuring voice told her to remember what she herself had advised Mr Potee, what she had said to him: "I think you should fold"
I think you should fold.
It was terrifying. God often was terrifying. Very often, she could not look Jesus in the eye: she feared to receive His wrath when all she wanted was His Love. But, He could also make her brave, much braver than her cowardly soul could ever be on its own.
With His help, she walked, not back to the saloon, but on and to the left, to the door of Mr Jolly's funeral parlour.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
The saloon doors swung open slowly as she re-entered. She looked around carefully. She needed to find Caroline and try and avoid anybody else. She wanted, needed to tell Caroline first; she owed her that.
Address me as Hon. Hiram Priest, esq.
Posted April 20, 2022 / Hiram Priest
A calm, if temporary, and settled over the Star Dust. Customers returned to their tables and some sidled up to the bar where Ralph poured liquor. By then, Caroline, somewhat grudgingly, took the coffee cups back to the kitchen, and Arabella had flown the coop. As for Fortner, he sat back down at the table and scooped up the winnings. There was plenty of cash, certainly, but the real prize was the deed to the Potee Homestead. Fortner held it in his hands and read the property description that he knew included a vein of gold -- just how rich, he would come to find out in the days ahead. Maybe it would come to be known as the Fortner Strike?
Hiram Priest sat as his reserved table with its superior view of the entire saloon floor. His arms were folded and his eyes shut. He was quite pleased when a plan came together and was executed beautifully. The only thing that bothered him was the homesteader Potee. It would be just like him to return with a shotgun and start firing at everyone in sight.
With eyes shut he thought of his favorite poem:
"Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold
Molten, graven, hammered and rolled,
Heavy to get and light to hold,
Hoarded, bartered, bought and sold,
Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled,
Spurned by young, but hung by old
Price of many a crime untold."
Priest opened his eyes, raised his glass and took a sip of whisky. He then closed his eyes again.
"To save - to ruin - to curse - to bless - "
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Soon, Franklin Fortner caught up with Caroline in the Kitchen.
"Let's head to the office. There's something I gotta tell ya."
He bade her follow him.