Posted November 6, 2021 / Arabella Mudd

"Here," Frank began, reaching for his glass of liquor and raising it a few inches from the tabletop. "Here's to the new owner of the Stardust Saloon,...me."

Hiram Priest grumbled, "I'll be go to hell," then raised his glass, too. He already knew but let on as if it was shocking news.

BLUNK!!!

The jolly tune being played on the piano ended abruptly in a discordant crash of horrified fingers on the ivory keys as Arabella, who wasn't just batty in nature but also had ears like a bat, gave a strangulated cry of "NO!!!!!"

She scraped back her piano stool and strode over to where Mundee, Fortner and Priest were ensconced and pointed first to the slick moustachioed Fortner and then up to Ms Devereau's room. "You mean that you.... that she.... Oh! This is horrible! I think... I think I'm gonna faint!!" She did so, conveniently in the direction of Mr. O'Toole, a broken down old Irishman who came in daily and tended to nurse a single drink all night long, who caught her deftly in his arms.

It was all beautifully dramatic, but she recovered quickly from the swoon.

"Oh... the.... horror of it all!" she cried as she recovered her meagre supply of wits "Well, I ain't stayin'! I ain't... all right Mr. O'Toole, you can leave go o' me now..." she interjected, peeling the old man's hands of her chest "... I ain't stayin' with HIM! I'm goin' with her! I'm packin' my grip and going with her, I tell yuh!" she yelped, starting to head for the stairs, before turning around and yelling at the hated Fortner "Where's she a-goin' anyhow?!"

Posted November 7, 2021 / Caroline Mundee

"Here," Frank began, reaching for his glass of liquor and raising it a few inches from the tabletop. "Here's to the new owner of the Stardust Saloon,...me."

"Wha?" Caroline blinked, confused.

Hiram Priest grumbled, "I'll be go to hell," then raised his glass, too.

Somebody was even more shocked, make that infuriated than Caroline though, the teenage piano player, Arabella. The song stopped instantly with one loud note followed by an even louder "NO!"

The girl tromped on over, "You mean that you.... that she.... Oh! This is horrible! I think... I think I'm gonna faint!!"

"She will," came the jaded interjection of Caroline who made no other move to prevent such a calamity (not).

Sure enough the overly dramatic girl swooned right into the arms of the closest customer, a bar regular.

"She's not unconscious I can assure you," Caroline got in just before, sure enough, Ara was back to say something more.

"Oh... the.... horror of it all!" she cried as she recovered her meagre supply of wits "Well, I ain't stayin'! I ain't... all right Mr. O'Toole, you can leave go o' me now..." she interjected, peeling the old man's hands of her chest "... I ain't stayin' with HIM! I'm goin' with her! I'm packin' my grip and going with her, I tell yuh!"

Caroline was unphased, so like Arabella to fly off the handle. Not that the news was not upsetting, never would Caroline believed that Matilda would sell the joint, just like that?

A few more steps up the stairway before the girl still wasn't quite finished, "Where she going anyway?"

Now that question was a good one but Caroline would prefer to hear the answer from Matilda herself and not this ...........new owner. And some more details too.

"Alright, lemme get this straight. I took you up to Miss Devereau's office, you sat down to chat with her and she sold you the saloon? Just like that?"

She glanced for just an instant at Ralph behind the bar, if anyone was probably even more taken aback by this sudden turn of events it would no doubt be Ralph for he had came to Kalispell with the Devereau woman, they were partners of sort though apparently never lovers. Ralph just stood there listening but his expression was grim.

Posted November 8, 2021 / Arabella Mudd

Arabella stomped upstairs to Ms. Devereau's room, but soon came stomping back with a flea in her ear. She wondered how long this had really been in the planning, weeks, months even she reckoned. But she was also sure that Ralph knew nothing of this: he had that look about him he always had when trouble was brewing in the bar: that air of calm but vigilant observation.

Fortner bade her return to the table where they sat, gesturing with his arm and saying, "Please come back. This concerns you."

Arabella came across: frowning still, with arms crossed across her chest defensively (a good idea, with Mr. O'Toole around, as she had just discovered) but willing to listen.

Caroline spoke up.

"Alright, lemme get this straight. I took you up to Miss Devereau's office, you sat down to chat with her and she sold you the saloon? Just like that?"

"Just like that," Frank said. "We had a pleasant visit -- a pleasant business visit, and we came to terms. Apparently, she has future plans that don't include the Stardust. But let me have my say before you all get too head up." He looked in Ralph's direction too."

"We're listening." replied Arabella, looking as calm as she could muster, but her head really still reeling at all this surprising news.

"I'm Franklin Fortner .. please, it's just Frank. I dropped the Franklin long ago. I'm who you might say is a businessman. I've got some irons in the fire, I've owned and managed a few saloons, too: The Wagon Tongue, The Red Slipper, and The Jester, to name some. I've always turned a good profit and my workers benefited as much as I did. So just to let you know I'm not fresh picked."

Arabella could think of some funny replies to that, but she literally bit her tongue in a superhuman bit of restraint for her. If this slick feller really was the new boss, she'd better keep it buttoned until she knew the lie of the land.

"My agreement is that I keep all of you." He nodded at Caroline and Ralph significantly but only gave Arabella a sidelong glance. "The pay will be what you're getting now -- good hours too. And who knows? In a while, depending on revenues, you'll all be in line for raises. I'm not hard to get along with. You might say that I'm a reasonable man."

Arabella plastered as decent a smile on her face as she could muster: she reckoned she was an actress, well here was one of the hardest parts in the world to play; an employee who was impressed by her boss's 'soft soap'.

"Sounds like a square deal ," Hiram grumbled into this chaw.

The Virginian girl's smile hardened as she suppressed a heartfelt who asked you? for Priest. He was as big a newcomer as Fortner.

"I have a vision of the Stardust being the kind of place where the men ... and some women .. of Kalispell will continue to enjoy patronizing. We can clear out some backrooms, fix 'em up so that the town elders can hold meetings -- and we can supply the refreshments. Upstairs we can make a lodge room for the Masons. You know a lot of railroad fellas are Masons. The Cattleman's Club .. if there is one .. might meet here. "

"Well, I sure hope them Masons ain't gonna be lodgin' with me, Mr Fortner!" Arabella managed a sickly sweet tone. "I used to know some Masons back in Virginia and they was a queer family. Old Tom Mason used to get out his..." But Caroline was giving her that look and she shut up.

Frank flipped his palms upward. "I think we can all prosper, huh?"

"Oh, it sounds just darlin', Mr. Fortner!" the Janus-faced Arabella gushed. She knew which side her bread was buttered. "Now, what would you like me to play on the pianna for you, Mr. Fortner? I reckon you're calling the tunes now!"

Posted November 9, 2021 / Caroline Mundee

Caroline's question was promptly answered, yes indeed he had what certainly turned out to be fruitful and surprising discussion with Matilda and just like that she sold the place? Caroline certainly did not see that coming. The woman never seemed fully engaged in the enterprise to be honest but spent a lot of time upstairs. Still, she had run it competently, the place was profitable. Maybe her heart was no longer in it?

"I'm Franklin Fortner .. please, it's just Frank. I dropped the Franklin long ago. I'm who you might say is a businessman. I've got some irons in the fire, I've owned and managed a few saloons, too: The Wagon Tongue, The Red Slipper, and The Jester, to name some. I've always turned a good profit and my workers benefited as much as I did. So just to let you know I'm not fresh picked."

"And yet here you are buying a new one," Caroline dryly commented. Actually she knew two of them by name and had heard only good things about the Wagon Tongue. Well, she had also heard it burnt down. Eh, fires happen.

He laid his hands palm down on the table.

"My agreement is that I keep all of you." He nodded at Caroline and Ralph significantly but only gave Arabella a sidelong glance.

Now that was a key bit of good news. Caroline liked it in Kalispell.

"The pay will be what you're getting now -- good hours too. And who knows? In a while, depending on revenues, you'll all be in line for raises. I'm not hard to get along with. You might say that I'm a reasonable man."

"Sounds like a square deal ," Hiram grumbled into this chaw.

Even as Arabella did, Caroline shot the old fella a look only she did not hold her tongue, "Sez one who ain't an employee here."

Fortner continued.

"I have a vision of the Stardust being the kind of place where the men ... and some women .. of Kalispell will continue to enjoy patronizing. We can clear out some backrooms, fix 'em up so that the town elders can hold meetings -- and we can supply the refreshments. Upstairs we can make a lodge room for the Masons. You know a lot of railroad fellas are Masons. The Cattleman's Club .. if there is one .. might meet here. "

Given the poisonous relationship between the two major cattle ranches around Kalispell, Evergreen and Lost Lake, the meeting place might be better to be held on a battlefield. But then Fortner didn't know the locality. Caroline did though. She could be real helpful. They were interesting ideas. She noticed he hadn't mentioned prostitutes - yet.

Arabella then launched into another one of her off color stories which Caroline doubted were seldom true but fortunately the saloon girl's narrowed glare shut the girl up. At least she was learning ............a little about what to say in public and when.

Frank declared "I think we can all prosper, huh?"

"Oh, it sounds just darlin', Mr. Fortner!" the Janus-faced Arabella gushed, "Now, what would you like me to play on the pianna for you, Mr. Fortner? I reckon you're calling the tunes now!"

Well that he was, but Caroline felt this discussion wasn't over yet. She turned to Ralph and he responded, "Handle the bar, I'm goin' on upstairs to have a word with Tildy."

Caroline could imagine that was going to be quite some conversation but nodded in the affirmative, "Sure thing, hon."

As the dour bartender ascended the stairs, Caroline turned back to Fortner.

"Alright then, we ain't quite finished yet, Frank. What about our cook? She makes the stew which folk will tell ya is the best in town maybe in the whole territory. She keeps her job too? She's a negro but that shouldn't enter into it."

"And then finally - what about hookers? You plannin' on bringing in some gals for that job? I mean it's yer right and it's yer business but just so you know. My job is singer, dancer, drumming up drinks from the crowd but I don't do no whorin'. No if's, ands, or buts, I don't do that. Just to make myself perfectly clear."

Suddenly she added, "That goes for Arabella here. No one touches her on no account."

Posted November 10, 2021 / Arabella Mudd

The slippery-seeming city slicker Mr Fortner's musical request took Arabella by surprise, but a pleasant one, to be sure.

"Can you play, OH THEM GOLDEN SLIPPERS?" he asked her.

"Golden Slippers?! Sure! It's only about the first song I ever learned to play!" she beamed. Indeed, the negro spiritual was a staple of the camp meetings her Methodist father had taken her to as a child. They had even walked for hours after the War from their mountain home down to Marion to hear the original Fisk Jubilee Singers render their song. So famous was it that, three years later, it would be parodied in a song called "Dem Golden Slippers" by James Bland which would become even more famous than the original. But that was all in the future. Right now, Arabella went one better than playing it on the piano.

"That's sorta song's best sung!" she exclaimed and closing her eyes, started to holler it in the style of the Ethiopian minstrels of the Southland. She couldn't sing soft and sultry love songs like Caroline, but for a religious number like this, her raw, pure, strangely mature mezzo-soprano was perfect.

🎵What kind of shoes you gwine to wear?

Golden slippers!

What kind of shoes you gwine to wear?

Golden slippers!

Golden slippers I’m bound to wear,

To outshine the glittering sun.

Oh, yes, yes, yes my Lord

I’m going to join the Heavenly choir

Yes, yes, yes my Lord, Soldier of the cross.🎵

A few dislocated Southerners in the bar joined in the responses, and the cook Messalina MacMahon could be clearly hear singing along from the kitchen! It was rather ironic that Mr. Flandry was ascending the stairs as the words of Heavenly ascent rang out. With him gone, Arabella rushed over to staff the bar, clambering onto a box behind that noble barrier so she could see properly over the top.

Meanwhile, Caroline continued the conversation with the new manager, Priest securing himself a stammtisch, although what he might do at such a regular table, apart from play solitaire and nurse a glass of whiskey, wasn't quite clear at this point.

Caroline hit on a more touchy subject.

"And then finally - what about hookers? You plannin' on bringing in some gals for that job? I mean it's yer right and it's yer business but just so you know. My job is singer, dancer, drumming up drinks from the crowd but I don't do no whorin'. No if's, ands, or buts, I don't do that. Just to make myself perfectly clear."

Suddenly she added, "That goes for Arabella here. No one touches her on no account."

"Hostesses?" Fortner asked. "That's what we called them back in Silver City. Of course, you are far too smart and too much of a lady. It would never have crossed my mind. And.. the same for Tess .. er .. Arabella." He cleared his throat. "I would like to have a conversation about that subject with you very soon."

"Friends then?" he asked her after a pause, holding out his hand.

Posted November 10, 2021 / Caroline Mundee

The girl knew their prospective employer's request and not only played it but sang it too if her usual gusto, some folks joining in. When she was done, Caroline smiled, "See, the child has talent. I need her to provide me musical accompaniment."

Then she brought up Messalina, the negro cook. Hopefully her employment was to be guaranteed also.

"Absolutely," Frank agreed. "I've promised that I'm keeping everyone who's on the payroll of the Stardust. The last thing I want to do is cause bad blood between me and anyone in this town."

"Oh, well that's good then," Caroline was pleased to hear it. She paused then as the old man brought up wanting a particular table for himself. Fine...whatever...that was no concern of her regardless.

The youthful yet veteran saloon girl wasn't done yet though, bringing up the subject of hookers and, crucially, her absolute refusal to do that sort of thing herself. As far as she was concerned his answer on this was critical as to whether she would stay or go. She included Arabella in that too. She was too young for such a life and yes she knew of hookers even younger but to her Ara was family now.

"Hostesses?" Fortner asked. "That's what we called them back in Silver City. Of course, you are far too smart and too much of a lady. It would never have crossed my mind. And.. the same for Tess .. er .. Arabella."

"Call it what you like, hon, as long as we keep to that arrangement, that's key," Caroline was relieved.

He cleared his throat. "I would like to have a conversation about that subject with you very soon."

"Umm, whenever then, sure," she was a bit confused as to exactly what subject then but he continued.

"Friends then?" he asked her after a pause, holding out his hand.

"Little early for friends, friendship is earned on both sides, but I'm open to it. As for staying on, you got yerself the best damn entertainer west of the Mississippi," Caroline broke into a grin and shook his hand with an unexpected force to her grip.

"I believe in loyalty, you treat me fair and yer the boss then, Frank!" she meant it too.

Posted November 13, 2021 / Arabella Mudd

Frank whistled through is fingers, and waved her back to the table.

Arabella skipped over to them all. "I ain't a dog!" she muttered under her fixed smile.

"Howdy! What can I do for you Mr. Fortner!" she beamed obligingly. But Frank addressed his instruction to Caroline, not her.

"Can you, please, let Arabella know everything will be all right and above board?" he asked Caroline as Arabella approached.

"Huh?" Arabella didn't have a clue what the feller was jawin' on about.

Hiram pushed out a chair for Arabella to sit in.

"Oh, Mr. Priest, I don't got time to sit down: when I'm not playin' that ol' pianna an pullin' the customers in, I'm helping serve the customers, scrubbin' the floors, emptyin' the spittoons, cleanin' the dishes, helpin' cookie with the food, lightin' the fires, doin' the laundry, ... oh, and polishin' Mr. Flandry's knobs." she took a breath at last... and sat down.

"So, you plannin' any big changes, Mr. Fortner?" she asked with a tip of her head and a sort of simpering doe-eyed mushy look on her face "Course, me and Caroline's music and Cookie's food and Mr. Flandy's barman-in' skills is already a big, BIG favourite with them rounders, er, customers, but I think the place lacks a sorta... well.. a sorta genial host."... she looked wide eyed at Frank like a sudden realisation had his her "Oh! Mr. Fortner... I reckon you will be the perfect Genial Host!"