Fortner lowered his voice a bit. "Change isn't necessarily a bad thing, you know. There might be a few changes around here, Ralph, but nothing that ought to upset your apple cart. You are one of he only people I can depend on, and I want to keep you happy. And if you have any questions about anything you've heard, just ask me, and we can talk everything over up in the office over some good liquor."
Ralph nodded, in that impassive style of his. He didn't smile much, he didn't even get mad much, though if he did the latter, the object of his ire better watch out.
"Caroline filled me in all about it," he left it at that. He had his opinion, there was no way that this small town was getting a railroad in a year...maybe even years. Why the much bigger town of Helena didn't have any railroad yet. (ooc: Helena would get that in 1883.)
As Fortner chatted with Sally the saloon doors swung and in walked a parade of newcomers. They were wearing workman's clothes, not chaps and spurs, and their hats were not cowboy hats. Theirs were boaters, rumpled fedoras, and caps. The supervisor .. the man who would be overseeing the operation on a day-to-day basis was Jake Baxter. He was followed by Dan McGrath, Lem Cross, and Pete Holmquist. Not among then were "Gunner" Sunderson, Jim Henry, or "Digger the Nigger". This last was a black fellow. Not that Ralph had anything against negroes. Hell, he'd fought the war to free those folks. But they were rarely seen in Kalispell.
Of course Ralph didn't know them and certainly not their names. Just some strangers. Most likely from back East. Ralph was born back East, in the slums of New York.
Fortner waved at them, and signaled them to take seat around the tables.
Priest, too, took a seat.
"The Crew," he informed Sally.
Just then, almost as if she deliberately timed her arrival to coincide with the newcomers, Caroline sashayed on in from the back, probably she had been in the kitchen. She wore her work clothes, well performing clothes, her favorite bright red dress, the low cut one.She'd also brought her light up the room smile.
"Well, well, what have we here? Is it somebody's birthday cuz it sure as hell ain't mine?" she declared.
"The Crew," he informed Sally.
Sally nodded her comprehension. But for Mister Fortner's grandiose introduction, she'd have thought they were just a bunch of tramps; but thanks to his preamble, she was suitably impressed.
"Oooh! What would you Gentlemen like to drink?!!" she asked eagerly. "I'm Sally, by the way, Sally Cutts. I will be attending to your every need."
Caroline shimmied in.
"Well, well, what have we here? Is it somebody's birthday cuz it sure as hell ain't mine?" she declared.
"It's The Crew, of course!!" Sally frowned. Fancy not knowing that.
"They're just about to give me their drink orders."
@[Wayfrarer]
"The Crew," he informed Sally.
Sally nodded her comprehension. But for Mister Fortner's grandiose introduction, she'd have thought they were just a bunch of tramps; but thanks to his preamble, she was suitably impressed.
"Oooh! What would you Gentlemen like to drink?!!" she asked eagerly. "I'm Sally, by the way, Sally Cutts. I will be attending to your every need."
Caroline shimmied in.
"Well, well, what have we here? Is it somebody's birthday cuz it sure as hell ain't mine?" she declared.
"It's The Crew, of course!!" Sally frowned. Fancy not knowing that.
"They're just about to give me their drink orders."
"That's right, Sally," Franklin said in an encouraging way. Then, with arms outstretched and in a grand manner, he indicated Caroline and said, "And here is "The Kalispell Nightingale", Caroline Mundee."
The clearly appreciative Lem Cross, who'd just settled into his chair, said, "That's a helluva name, Caroline Money! Glad to meet you, Miss Money."
A tablemate seated next to Lem, Dan McGrath, took off his cap and swatted Lem with it. "You confounded idiot," he declared. It's Monday! Get your ears cleaned out.
Lem, who had extremely thick skin, only shook his head then asked Sally, "Whiskey, little Miss."
"It's The Crew, of course!!" Sally frowned.
Caroline shot a quick look at the girl, she did not appreciate that smug comment but said nothing. Sally was mostly an idiot anyhow, a sweet girl but ...
"They're just about to give me their drink orders."
"That's right, Sally," Franklin said in an encouraging way. Then, with arms outstretched and in a grand manner, he indicated Caroline and said, "And here is "The Kalispell Nightingale", Caroline Mundee."
Caroline smiled and nodded, "Gents."
One of the men declared, "That's a helluva name, Caroline Money! Glad to meet you, Miss Money."
"It's Mundee," Caroline mildly corrected him.
A tablemate seated next to Lem took off his cap and swatted Lem with it. "You confounded idiot," he declared. It's Monday! Get your ears cleaned out."
"Yeah, sure, close enough. boys...otherwise call me Caroline," she kept her cool, what a bunch Fortner had collected.
Lem, who had extremely thick skin, only shook his head then asked Sally, "Whiskey, little Miss."
"Sure boys! Go ahead, give Sally here yer orders. I'll just sit down with you fellas," Caroline pulled up a chair and did as she said she would.
Sally hustled over to the bar and relayed the drinks order to Ralph with a worried look on her face, glancing round at the seated truculent Caroline.
"Oh, Mr Flandry, I hope she doesn't do anything awful that'll get her fired!" the girl bleated to the stoic Ralph. "I don't think she liked it when they got her name wrong!"
She went back over and leaned over to place the drink on the table. It was awful nice, she supposed, of one of the gentlemen to have manually steadied her as she did so, although she was scarcely in need of it. The man's hand felt rough and calloused through the thin, worn out calico of her smock - that part was extra worn through, being the place she sat down.
Sally hustled over to the bar and relayed the drinks order to Ralph with a worried look on her face, glancing round at the seated truculent Caroline.
"Oh, Mr Flandry, I hope she doesn't do anything awful that'll get her fired!" the girl bleated to the stoic Ralph. "I don't think she liked it when they got her name wrong!"
Ralph started pouring the shot glasses full to their tops.
"Don't worry, child. She's a pro, she's used to all sorts of customers and them getting her name wrong is far from the worst she's ever dealt with. She ain't gonna get fired," he answered calmly, softly.
One of the men declared, "That's a helluva name, Caroline Money! Glad to meet you, Miss Money."
"It's Mundee," Caroline mildly corrected him.
A tablemate seated next to Lem took off his cap and swatted Lem with it. "You confounded idiot," he declared. "It's Monday! Get your ears cleaned out."
Franklin held up his arms, palms out; a single for the to cease.
"Yeah, sure, close enough. boys...otherwise call me Caroline," she kept her cool, what a bunch Fortner had collected.
Lem, who had extremely thick skin, only shook his head then asked Sally, "Whiskey, little Miss."
"Sure boys! Go ahead, give Sally here yer orders. I'll just sit down you fellas," Caroline pulled up a chair and did as she said she would.
Franklin nodded appreciatively.
Sally hustled over to the bar and relayed the drinks order to Ralph with a worried look on her face, glancing round at the seated truculent Caroline.
"Oh, Mr Flandry, I hope she doesn't do anything awful that'll get her fired!" the girl bleated to the stoic Ralph. "I don't think she liked it when they got her name wrong!"
Ralph started pouring the shot glasses full to their tops.
"Don't worry, child. She's a pro, she's used to all sorts of customers and them getting her name wrong is far from the worst she's ever dealt with. She ain't gonna get fired," he answered calmly, softly.
She went back over and leaned over to place the drink on the table. It was awful nice, she supposed, of one of the gentlemen to have manually steadied her as she did so, although she was scarcely in need of it. The man's hand felt rough and calloused through the thin, worn out calico of her smock - that part was extra worn through, being the place she sat down.
"Hands off, McGrath," Fortner advised. It was polite but firm.
McGrath complied with a shrug.
It was time to begin.
"We'll start now and catch the others up when they get here," opened Fortner. "So, I'll start out with some news. Our major investor in New York has made it possible to get some of the best mining equipment there is. It's being sent out here right away. We're talking about the Copper River Company out of Michigan. Not only cradles, long toms, sluice boxes, and hand-held equipment, but maybe getting a Pelton Wheel for power to run equipment."
The men slapped the tabletops in approval.
One of them offered, "Nothin' gets a miner more discouraged than breaking buckets and trying to make their way through rocky soil by spinning on their shovels and breaking picks."
Jake Baxter, the man who would be general supervisor of the operation, brought up the missing, Jim Henry, their Security man. "Way out here, God only knows what trouble we may run into."
Lem Cross brought his empty glass down, solidly on the table, so Franklin snapped his fingers at Sally and pointed to the empty glass.
"Hands off, McGrath," Fortner advised. It was polite but firm.
McGrath complied with a shrug.
"Oh, it's all right..." Sally muttered as she hastened away to get the next order.
It would be untrue to say that the girl was used to, or inured to, the gropings and fondlings she suffered every evening at the saloon, but she had to bear them, and slip out of the grip of any lecherous customers as quickly and unobtrusively as possible, usually with a feigned laugh and a chiding "now now, I got glasses to collect" or some such banter. He biggest fear, like right now, was Caroline or Mister Flandry seeing that she was being bothered. Either of those would do something about it, and that would cause more trouble.
No. She'd just have to put up with being touched in that horrible way until her shining knight on his white street rode into town and swept her off her feet.
Her main solace was to think about women like Hettie and Tilly and poor departed Sad Annie... at least Sally didn't have to endure what they did on a nightly basis.
Yet.
Where there heck was that mythical White Knight, anyhows? He was sure taking his time getting here!
@[Wayfarer]
ooc: You can move it along to the next post, I have nothing to really add from Caroline who is sitting there listening to the talk, her face not giving away a thing as to what her own personal views were of all this.
"I wouldn't piss up his ass if his guts were on fire!"
It was a business meeting, but it didn't matter that there were people around who could listen in, or not. The subject matter was arcane, and so a lot of it was over others' heads.
There were arguments about which way to angle into the main vein, or at least where they thought it was, and there were harsh discussions about who would manage the sluice boxes and account for daily ore production. It was just when they were launching into security concerns when the saloon door opened and in walk "Big" Jim Henry, the best security agent in many parts.
Jim walked in, but stopped short of a full entrance. Instead, he looked to his left and right, just to see what he was walking into. When he saw his gang at the tables, his lips formed a sneer of a smile, and he held up his hand.
"What's the big miguela, men?" His voice boomed.
He walked to where Lem Cross had his legs lounging on an empty chair, and then jerked the chair away. Lem almost fell on the floor. Then, to Sally, he said, "Got any Bourbon?"