Storyteller / Shared NPC
Saturday Late Afternoon
October 8, 1876
If there was smoke about Nate Vernon being killed, it had yet to clear. Evergreen owner Elias Steelgrave was ready to kill over the raid on the clod hoppers farm. He had had other plans for Aurelian Redmond. The tirade had lasted three full days ending with the order that no Evergreen hand was to go near the Redmond place, what was left of it. Nor were they to start any trouble whenever they might be in town, it had been made clear that he, Elias Steelgrave would kill any man that caused more attention to be paid to the Evergreen.
Yet Granger finally relented when four of the boys wanted to go to town for a couple of drinks and maybe a poke, “So, no problems, no trouble, and damn it, no gunplay, we’ll have the whole of Kalispell on us if there is.”
“Granger? You know you can count on us, it’s just drinks an’ a poke on a Saturday night. Be a couple hours, not the whole blamed night.” That was the promise of Bo Harker. “It’ll be me, Jensen, Benson, and Davis here” So it would be to either Harker or Purdue to keep the peace. None of them were hotheads so Granger felt somewhat comfortable about this. Of course, it was Saturday night, and likely there would be ranch hands from all over in the Stardust, and over at the bordello. That meant the possibility of wranglers from the Lost Lake as well.
“The Lost Lake boys, you steer clear of ‘em, hear?” Granger demanded. “Any trouble and hell won’t have it when the boss hears of it, he ain’t over this last little episode yet.”
As the men walked out of the bunkhouse Granger was beginning to have second thoughts about his decision, and Cookie didn’t help.
“Yer gonna regret this, Granger. I’m tellin’ ya, you’ll regret this sure as we’re a standin’ here watchin’ ‘em go!”
(In the order mentioned)
@Longshot
It was a slow afternoon at the Stardust, Hettie could only hope things livened up later on: at least Chubby Cox had shut up shop at the Barbers by this time and ambled in to commence the other job he worked as the saloon's pianist and Caroline Mundee's accompanist. The new scrub girl, Sally Cutts was, well, scrubbing and Mammy Cookie was tending to her vittles in the little kitchen in back of the place.
Next to her some old timer was chewing her ear off about the time he'd been in big Gold Rush of '49.
"Course, I was in the vanguard, one of the Argonauts who arrived by sea, but the fellers in them days didn't know the right way to do it, you see, with the sluices and all, and I knew how to make things with my hands such as with wood and nails though I was, indeed, not what you would call a qualified carpenter, oh no, Miss, I was more expert really in the raising of pigs and the like, although I had dabbled with geese but found them to be a bird of a more seasonal nature, but oh where was I? Oh yes, the sluices. Well, I made my first sluice on the 3rd day of July Eighteen and Forty Eight, months before the main Rush, you see, around about the head of the Sacramento Valley near Sutter's Mill..."
Hettie was suddenly roused from her reverie and looked at the old geezer.
"Oh, sorry, were you talking to me this whole time?!" she asked.
It was clear that this ancient idiot had neither struck it rich nor even possessed the money to afford the pleasure of her fleshy charms. Probably couldn't even get it up anyway. Oh, why didn't some real men come bursting through those swing doors: men with more money than sense and enough rising sap to want to spend it on her?
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Down the street from the Stardust, a working party from Lost Lake were loading a cargo wagon with a list of items they had been sent to town to get. The normal supply run had been delayed earlier that week due to some bad weather, so these hands had volunteered to make the run on that Saturday.
These six men had volunteered because they knew exactly that it was Saturday and once they had finished loading the wagon, the whole town would be around them on a Saturday night. They had been careful to say that by the time they finished loading the wagon it would be getting late and driving that big wagon back in the dark might be dangerous.
Now as the men finished up loading the wagon and lashing down the big canvas cover, they stood in a huddle near the back gate. The senior hand who had been tapped to make sure the list was filled and the wagon stayed safe overnight stretched his back and then clapped his hands together.
"Okay, boys...so far so good. It's Saturday night, we're in town, and we got credit for volunteering for the supply run..."Now, you know the rules. They're not paying for us rooms at the hotel, so it's bedrolls in the Livery. I want everyone back at the Livery by 11pm and then we'll take turns posting someone out here at the wagon until sunrise and we'll get started back to the ranch." The group started to move to the sidewalk and head for the saloon and he stepped back in front of them.
"No trouble, fellas...this was a clever little thing we pulled off today. Someone ruin it by getting arrested for drunkenness or fighting and Wentworth or god forbid Cantrell has to ride to town and get us out, we'll never see outside the ranch fence for a few years. You boys savvy?" He received a chorus of nods and quiet looks before he fell in with them and they headed down the street. Shortly they pushed through the doors into the Stardust and looked around at the late afternoon crowd, such as it was.
The Evergreen hands, if that was what one would call them, all bellied up to the bar. "Ber keep? A bottle and five glasses if you please, we've a powerful thrust!" Harker ordered as he dropped a coin on the bar.
"We gettin' us a table?" Jansen, the youngest of them asked, There were a couple of vacant tables around the good-sized room to choose from.
"We can do that lest we wanna stand here at the bar fer a bit and take in this crowd, see where we stand. Nothin' but towns folk, a couple farmers, and maybe some cow hands I ain't never seen before." Davis said, his back to the bar as he took in those present. "Not ta mention them girls."
Harker Jansen Davis Benson
Storyteller / Shared NPC
It appeared as though the riders of Elias Steelgrave were moving to one of the few empty tables when in thought the batwings came a knot of half a dozen riders, and of course, as luck would have it, they were of the Lost Lake brand. This could get really interesting and real fast.
Just spice things up however, a disheveled Ezra Klinefeld made his way precariously up the boardwalk toward the Stardust Saloon, pausing at the Union office hoping to catch a drink from one of his few benefactors along the main thoroughfare. One Phineas McVay, usually an easy touch for a drink or two, and he needed one. Alas, the place was closed. The upstairs windows were dark.
So, he began again on the trek to the saloon and the hopes of a couple of free drinks, or drinks left unattended, which as he saw it, were fair game. That is if he didn’t get thrown out before the batwings swung shut behind him. He had all but run into the men in front of him, not realizing who they were, not that Lost Lake Ranch meant much to him, neither did the Evergreen, all of that was well out of his sphere of interest. Never the less, there he stood, just inches from the Lost Lake men.
Saturday nights were a boon to the Stardust, just like it was to most saloons in the Montana Territory. There was a full staff on duty, Ralph briskly tended, Hiram Priest was seated at his assigned table in a far corner, and Franklin Fortner, the proprietor, strolled proudly across the floor, satisfied with how business hummed. When he got the the piano player, he paused and suggested he play, "Carry Me Back to Old Virginy"
There was a knot of what look like Steelgrave men at one of the tables, and Fortner, ever the businessman, stopped by them and asked, "Are we keeping you boys satisfied? Our barkeep might be busy, but not enough keep the fire water from flowing."
"Well sir, we got no complaints." Bo Harker stated, looking up at the man. "Whiskey's wet, piano players a good 'un, an, the girls 'er purdy. What's ta complain about?" And all of that was true, even though the place was pretty crowded, it was a good time so far
"I heard ya had yerself a songbird here, she be singin' tanight?" Benson asked, "Ah, Carry Me Back Ta Ol' Virginny! That's a good 'un!! Take's me back some, thet's fer sure!"
"Any chance ta scare up a card game in here?" Jensen asked, "Hankerin fer a good game fer a while now."
Harker Benson Jansen
Sally weaved her way through the tables collecting glasses. She was getting pretty good at this! Not collecting glasses, that was easy enough: even without a tray, she could carry eight empty glasses in her arms and hands without dropping them. No the hard part was avoiding the 'accidental' touches, pinches and groping of the rough and ready, and, frankly, randy, men who populated the saloon during the evening opening hours.
Whereas her colleague Caroline had nothing but contempt for the whores, like Hetty Rosenkranz, who hung around the place like vultures waiting on dead tree branches to swoop on fellers who had more money, and oats, than sense, Sally was grateful to them for taking the heat off of her.
As Chubby struck up a spritely version of "Carry me back..." she approached three fellers at the bar, Benson, Parker and Jensen, and asked "Scuse me fellers... can I reach past you for them dirty glasses?" She reached forward for the empties, bracing herself for the worst.
It was a real busy night but then it was Saturday night so pretty much to be expected. The Star Dust usually got swamped with local cowpokes coming into town for a good time since the morrow was the Lord's Day. Ralph was serving drinks as fast as he could, remaining unperturbed no matter how many requests, oh yeah, and demands for service. Nobody was gonna rush him whether they asked nicely or were demanding. He'd get to them all one way or the other.
***
As for Caroline she was making the rounds of the tables with occasional visits to those at the bar, spreading herself around, smiling, flirting, laughing, and of course getting them to buy her drinks. Soon enough she'd run up on the small stage in the corner and sing some often bawdy numbers along with doing a little dancing, boldly showing them a nice bare leg.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
The Lost Lake hands had grabbed a table over to the side by virtue of coming in as early as they did. Currently a few were having drinks and the others were looking around, either with a woman in their sights or looking for a card game. As goals went, they weren't all that different from the Evergreen hands, save a huge difference in what they defended.
The Lost Lake hand in charge, Louis Tully, was a mountain of a man. Standing well over six feet and built like a barn door, he was working on a plate of food as opposed to the rest of the group. He took a drink of beer and looked at the other five seated around the table. "Boys, get to enjoying yourselves. You know what time we have to be back at the Livery..."
At Tully's words, one pair of hands both stood and began to head in Sally's direction. Both men paused and looked at each other as they realized they had the same goal in mind. Their eyes narrowed and both sped up as they crossed toward the woman who was not noticing their approach.
Frank Hogan pondered his prospects as he looked around the saloon, then he sighed and downed his shot of whiskey. He looked at Tully and then shrugged. "I guess I'll order some dinner, too, and not get whiskey soaked..." He then turned to wave down a serving girl.
The last two Lost Lake hands moved over to a slightly smaller table. One of the two tugged out a deck of cards from his shirt pocket and both men laid some paper money in front of them. They began playing some poker for small stakes while waiting for some more players to join.