" ... - - - ... "
"Ah yes, Arabella, now there's a young lady that makes one scratch their head."
"Yeah, especially when she starts going on about that nit shampoo of hers!" agreed Hector, inadvertently lifting his hand to scratch his own head.
"Actually, at this point, there's no sense trying to understand what they are doing, or trying to do. But I'd appreciate your help with this Reeve business. I guess it's a wait and see situation." Phin supposed.
Hector shrugged his assent. He couldn't care less about Reeve and would divvy up any dirt he could find on the suspicious fellow.
"Anyway, anything more you can dredge up on this Reeve character, I'd be most grateful to learn, maybe derail whatever his plan is. But, I need to get over to the Municipal Building and see if I can interview the last of the Mayoral Candidates, Cole Latham. If he'll allow it." Then Phin laughed. "Should be an interesting rest of the day!"
"What, Steelgrave's lawyer?" asked the telegraph operator saucer-eyed. "You're a braver man than me!" Hector didn't mind admitting it, he wouldn't go anywhere near any of the dread ranch boss's cronies even if you paid him to. Actually, he had taken telegrams there on occasion, but always with a sickly sinking feeling in his stomach.
As Mr McVey left though, Hector had to allow himself a wry smile: Mr McVey had the guts to go poking around in Cole Latham's affairs, but had come up with a feeble excuse to avoid getting entangled with Arabella Mudd. Yeah, the editor of the Union was brave in the pursuit of a story, but he wasn't that brave.
"Every town needs a newspaper."
The suggestion to speak with Arabella Mudd presented some contradicting thoughts, yes, it would be possible to learn something about what? That was the question, and did she even know this Reeve fellow as he had not seen him anywhere but at Pettigrew's, though that actually meant nothing. People were out and about town at all hours of the day and night, and he was not always watching.
Arabella might have something to say on the matter, she definitely had an eye for handsome young men, and Reeve certainly filled that bill adequately enough, beside a whiskey or two before deal with Latham's lies couldn't hurt, even if it meant dealing with the irrepressible Miss Mudd. So it was off to the Stardust Saloon and Miss Arabella Mudd.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Arabella nearly jumped out of her skin when there was a polite knock at her bedroom door. She didn’t recognise it as Caroline’s knock – anyway, she tended to knock and come straight in. And Mammy McMahon didn’t even bother knocking, she always burst right in, no doubt hoping to catch her up to no good: and usually succeeding.
Her heart raced as she tiptoed to the door and peeped through the crack between the door and the jamb. Had Mister Priest come up to frighten her with more veiled threats? Or maybe Fortner had changed his mind about letting her go and had come up to lock her in her room! She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Mr. McVey, although what the newspaper man wanted to see her about that was worth climbing up the stairs to see her in her soon-to-be-vacated lair, she had no idea.
She pulled the door open wide.
“Howdy Mr. McVey, come on in! Don’t worry, I’ll keep the door open so folks don’t talk!” she smiled happily and went back to packing her battered looking case. It wasn’t a particularly big case, but her scanty possessions would still be rattling around inside of it.
She picked up a fancy looking pair of pink silk camiknickers with ribbons and bows all over them. “Hey, take a look at these! Ms Devereau left ‘em behind when she went. Them titchy things’re no use to me, I feel the cold!” she laughed, throwing them in the case anyway, then picking up a pair of sturdy, enormously large and thick bloomers. “That’s more like it: a girl can’t go wrong in a pair o’ these!” she announced, folding the commodious but uncomfortable looking drawers up and placing them in the case next.
“Sorry Mr. McVey, what can I do you for?” she asked, looking up from her packing “I don’t reckon you came all the way up here to look at my underwear!” she chuckled, but then frowned and gave him a suspicious look “Er… did yer?”
"Every town needs a newspaper."
"Well no, and actually I had hoped to catch you down stairs, however, your room is fine and I suspect will do nicely." He began. "May I sit?" He motioned to a chair close by.
"So, I understand that you are a student of politics, local, territorial as well as national. So, perhaps we might discuss politics on our local and territorial levels. Personally I have been looking at getting interviews with the local candidates, especially for the position of mayor of our fair town, I'm sure then that you are aware of those who have declared for the job."
"I have had a most disquieting and contentious interview with Mister Worchester Pettigrew. Now I mean to say that though the interview was to be with him, a Mister Lewis Cass Reeve seemed to have much of his own input both in his interjection, and with Mister Pettigrew's train of thought. Though that was much better than an absence of conversation with the Honorable Hiram Priest Esquire, who was less than. Two more to go, Matt Wentworth and, Cole Latham, who I am saving, possibly for last. So, I am certainly open for opinions."
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Arabella more or less threw herself between Phin and the chair upon which he was about to lower his caboose.
"Oh no!" she cried "Don't sit on that, the leg's broke! That's just fer decoration! Sit on the bed. Don't worry, it creaks a bit. Not as much as Caroline's next door, mind."
Mr. McVey then explained the purpose of his visit. The poor feller seemed to have a hard time getting his meaning out clear but, head tipped to the side, frowning with concentration and holding some piece of complicated corsetry suspended in the air above her case, Arabella just about got his drift.
"Oh, you wanna talk about politickin'? Not the whole country, just round here and hereabouts, uh huh!" she nodded and carried on packing. "Oh sure, you can ask me anything you like about that, I'm a regular hexpert on that old stuff." she assured him.
"I have had a most disquieting and contentious interview with Mister Worchester Pettigrew."
"Ol' Wus gave you the collywobbles, huh?" nodded Ara, who decided to translate Mr Vey into English as he went along.
"Now I mean to say that though the interview was to be with him, a Mister Lewis Cass Reeve seemed to have much of his own input both in his interjection, and with Mister Pettigrew's train of thought."
"Oh sure, Wus was a-jawin' but Reeve kept on buttin' in? Well, I've noticed that. Poor old Wus is just Mr Reeve's puppet, anyone can see that." agreed the girl.
"Though that was much better than an absence of conversation with the Honorable Hiram Priest Esquire, who was less than.
Arabella gave a shiver "Don't even get me started on that sidewinder!" she said, pulling a face. "'Honourable' my... Aunt!"
"Two more to go, Matt Wentworth and, Cole Latham, who I am saving, possibly for last. So, I am certainly open for opinions."
Arabella thought for a second and then came around the other side of the bed and sat down next to the newspaperman. "Budge up, now listen, I'll explain the whole thing to you..." she said confidentially.
"Now... I was around there the other night: Mr Reeve was explainin' to Mr Pettigrew and Mr Vaughn and Miss Orr - don't you think Miss Orr is just the prettiest thing alive? ... oh, anyway, it was all way above their heads. I was just there to play the piano and look pretty, but I cottoned to exactly what he was saying. He said that because the next Government is going to be Democrat, which it is..." (she was nearly right) "... it's important to get as much support for the party at a local kinda level, in the towns and in the Territory. Stuff like that."
She hurried on, knowing Mr McVey's penchant for objecting to opinions he didn't agree with.
"But I started to think... if getting one of ours in as Mayor of Kalispell is so dog-gone important, well, surely they'd a picked a better candidate than Mr. P., God bless him. You still with me? Well, then I thought, why pick a feller as can't win, but ain't so bad he won't get quite a lot of the votes? Then it hit me..."
She leaned in close, perhaps uncomfortably close, to the man next to her on the bed and whispered in his ear:
"Reeve must be in with either Latham or Priest to split the vote!" She sat back and gave him a knowing, wide eyed nod.
"Every town needs a newspaper."
McVay looked at the girl, there was a real knowledge there, of politic anyway. "Alright, I'll bite, if not Pettigrew, or this Priest fellow, just who is the candidate they're after? Priest is pretty much unknown except for the saloon crowd and Pettigrew, a real long-shot, in my opinion."
He went on, "Now getting down to brass tacks, it would be between Latham, who is a known Steelgrave man, and Wentworth, who doesn't seem to show a political side one way or the other, are the real contenders. Now, I'm of the opinion that Matt has the best shot with the job. I'm not so sure people here are any too concerned with National politics, but state and local, oh yes, especially local. How do you feel about that? And do you see anyone running for County Sheriff, or Guyer's job as Town Marshal?"
He wondered silently how this conversation was so opposed to what he would have expected.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
McVay looked at the girl, there was a real knowledge there, of politic anyway. "Alright, I'll bite, if not Pettigrew, or this Priest fellow, just who is the candidate they're after? Priest is pretty much unknown except for the saloon crowd and Pettigrew, a real long-shot, in my opinion."
Mr McVey and Arabella jawed some more about the candidates. "Sure, Priest's the long shot, but think about this: when he first arrived - that day him and Fortner shot Frank Grimes - he was boastin' about he'd been Mayor in other towns. Well, he must've been just as much of a side-windin' rattler in them towns as he is here, but somehow he must've got voted in." she gave her opinion. "Well, if it wasn't for that joker in the pack, then..."
He went on, "Now getting down to brass tacks, it would be between Latham, who is a known Steelgrave man, and Wentworth, who doesn't seem to show a political side one way or the other, are the real contenders."
"Aw, come on, Mr. McVey! He might as well have a hephalump tattooed across his forehead!" objected Arabella, who apparently took Mr Wentworth for a Republican of the deepest dye.
"Now, I'm of the opinion that Matt has the best shot with the job."
"I'll admit he'd probably be the best at doin' it" she agreed "Even if he is a foul minion of the Tyrant Grant."
"I'm not so sure people here are any too concerned with National politics, but state and local, oh yes, especially local. How do you feel about that?"
Arabella just shook her head "I gotta admit, Mr McVey, I don't know enough about what's goin' on behind the scenes to opine on that. All I know about local politics I what I read in your newspaper, and frankly, I take take that with pinch of salt." she informed him quite happily.
"And do you see anyone running for County Sheriff, or Guyer's job as Town Marshal?"
"Not if they got their heads screwed on right!" she laughed, then looked him in the eyes "Well, would you?!"
She shook her head. "Nope, the only thing I know is Governor Tilden is gonna be our next President..." she jumped up on the bed and took down the picture pinned above it, kissed it, held it to her heart and then put it lovingly in her case. "... and, God Help us, the Dishonourable Priest, will be the next Mayor of Kalispell and, well, Mr. Vey, I will never drink, smoke or gamble, least for money, but I'll bet you I'm right! I'll bet you a double-dare!"
She waited to see how the opinionate Editor of the Union would put his money where his mouth was.
"Every town needs a newspaper."
"Priest? Really? You think a man that never comes out of the saloon will garner the Mayors position over Wentworth? Somehow I'd call that a longshot if there ever was one!" McVay exclaimed. "Now I'm not saying it couldn't happen, because we both know too well it could, I'm just saying it is highly unlikely."
He shook his head, "And just what do you see as his draw? I mean I couldn't get a word out of him for an interview, what do folks know about him besides he lives in that saloon. Be a sad state of affairs were the Stardust Saloon to become the Mayors office. You yourself have nothing good to say for him, what make you think anyone else does. It was a sad day when Miss Devereau sold the place, just my opinion."
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
"Priest? Really? You think a man that never comes out of the saloon will garner the Mayors position over Wentworth? Somehow I'd call that a longshot if there ever was one!" McVay exclaimed.
Arabella shrugged. "Well, call it woman's intuition if you like, but I can feel it in mah water. Somehow or other, that varmint's gonna get his hands on the Mayor's chain! I'm willing to bet on it."
"Now I'm not saying it couldn't happen, because we both know too well it could, I'm just saying it is highly unlikely."
"That's probably what they said in all them other places where he was Mayor!" the girl replied, picking up a pair of rolled up stockings, sniffing them, pulling a face, and then throwing them in the case anyway.
He shook his head, "And just what do you see as his draw? I mean I couldn't get a word out of him for an interview, what do folks know about him besides he lives in that saloon."
"Maybe that's it! All the other candidates have got something that folks don't like about 'em: Latham's Steelgraves' man, and lots of folks hate him; Mr Pettigrew's a Democrat and an kinda a cream puff, and some wrong headed people don't like democrats; Mr Wentworth's a Republican, and people are fed up o' the Tyrant Grant's corrupt government, reconstructin' all over the dear old southland and such... then they see Priest's name on the ballot paper and they're all like 'ohh, I don't know who this feller is, sounds kinda holy, I don't know nothin' wrong with him - I'll vote fer him!"
"Be a sad state of affairs were the Stardust Saloon to become the Mayors office. You yourself have nothing good to say for him, what make you think anyone else does. It was a sad day when Miss Devereau sold the place, just my opinion."
"Not just your opinion" she agreed "Why d'ya think I'm packin' this case?!" she asked, lifting up her enormous bible and placing it reverently into the travelling trunk.
"Every town needs a newspaper."
"Packing your case? And what are you planning to do, runaway from the doldrums of saloon life, or as a precaution if Priest does manage to upset the electorate come September?" Phin quizzed. "Seems to me you have quite the following with your piano playing, and with Miss Mundee's vocalizations."
"I agree that people here tend to take the path of ;least resistance about most things, makes life easier that way. It's hard enough as it is, but when it comes to the Mayors position, well, I'd like to think that's different, and I'd hope political parties aside, the best man for the job would take it, not the one that sounded like he was clergy."
"Of course, you understand that no one's stumping yet, a bit too early for that sort of thing, but I expect things to get lively once they do. Be good to hear what they have to say, except for Cole Latham, nobody understands his legalese anyway.'" He stated.