Oh dear, we're all of a flutter!
Priest removed his hat and pulled up a chair across from her.
"Hello, Ma'am..er..Miss Forde."
"It's Patterson Forde" she corrected, a little sniffily; inwardly cursing the rather silly affectation of the double barrelled moniker which, despite her hatred of it, she would defend to the death and never see truncated.
"I'm Hiram Priest and would like to speak to you about a position at this emporium which we desperately need filling."
"It is my understanding that you require a book-keeper, Mr Priest. I have brought along some examples of the work I did for my Father's business in Panamint City. As you will see, my penmanship and arithmetic are clear and sound." she said, pushing the two ledgers toward him. In those days, the double entry method of accounting was not prevalent, and the two aforementioned skills were the most prized possessions of a prospective accountant.
As Priest looked through the neat entries, made in a clear copperplate hand with precise addition, subtraction, multiplication and, amazing for a mere girl, long division, a wily old coot like 'The Judge' no doubt noticed how well the Patterson Fordes' business had been doing in the lawless silver and copper-rich Death Valley boom town of the early '70s, where they had supplied the miners with everything from foodstuffs, clothing, saddlery, tools, stationary, and all items in between.
The prim girl stood motionless in dignified patience while the old man perused the accounts.
Address me as Hon. Hiram Priest, esq.
"I'm Hiram Priest and would like to speak to you about a position at this emporium which we desperately need filling."
"It is my understanding that you require a book-keeper, Mr Priest. I have brought along some examples of the work I did for my Father's business in Panamint City. As you will see, my penmanship and arithmetic are clear and sound." she said, pushing the two ledgers toward him. In those days, the double entry method of accounting was not prevalent, and the two aforementioned skills were the most prized possessions of a prospective accountant.
As Priest looked through the neat entries, made in a clear copperplate hand with precise addition, subtraction, multiplication and, amazing for a mere girl, long division, a wily old coot like 'The Judge' no doubt noticed how well the Patterson Fordes' business had been doing in the lawless silver and copper-rich Death Valley boom town of the early '70s, where they had supplied the miners with everything from foodstuffs, clothing, saddlery, tools, stationary, and all items in between.
The prim girl stood motionless in dignified patience while the old man perused the accounts.
Priest muttered, "hmmm", removed his spectacles, polished them with a kerchief, and put them back on. He was impressed by the stout business health, tracing the credits to the appropriate debit column. "Very nice," he commented, pushing the ledgers back to Miss Patterson-Forde.
"This is all very impressive," he continued. "What we're needing is a bookkeeper to manage the emporium's accounts." Hiram preferred "emporium" when dealing with proper citizens rather than saloon or tavern. "They have never been managed properly, even in the days under a previous owner. Mr. Fortner as well as myself have struggled with keeping them balanced, but we are not accountant types." He laid his bony hands on the table, palms down. "Would you be interested in keeping the Stardust's books? You would be compensated well."
Something else pricked his interest.
It was the business revealed to him in the ledger books Miss Patterson-Forde shared. With increasing workers at the "Pottee Digs" (as they were sometimes jokingly referred as) and the need for support systems, this company looked like it was ideal.
Oh dear, we're all of a flutter!
"They have never been managed properly, even in the days under a previous owner. Mr. Fortner as well as myself have struggled with keeping them balanced, but we are not accountant types."
Her friend Sally had just told her that she had been offered the grand sum of $10 a week, just for her menial job of washing pots and scrubbing floors - Florence wasn't surprised that they had trouble balancing the books.
He laid his bony hands on the table, palms down. "Would you be interested in keeping the Stardust's books? You would be compensated well."
"Thank you, Mister Priest, that would be very acceptable. I charge..." she hesitated a second, tore between mercenary greed and common decency "... $25 a week, but on top of book keeping, I can also handle business correspondence and am well versed in Munson's Complete Phonography"
The Munson system of shorthand was, at this point in time, a fierce competitor to the Pitman system.
She realised that she was basically charging Philadelphia or New York rates of pay, but from Sally's story, these fellers seemed rather open-handed; it was worth a try.
She stood there, trying to look dignified after that unseemly display of Mammon worship.
Address me as Hon. Hiram Priest, esq.
Her friend Sally had just told her that she had been offered the grand sum of $10 a week, just for her menial job of washing pots and scrubbing floors - Florence wasn't surprised that they had trouble balancing the books.
He laid his bony hands on the table, palms down. "Would you be interested in keeping the Stardust's books? You would be compensated well."
"Thank you, Mister Priest, that would be very acceptable. I charge..." she hesitated a second, tore between mercenary greed and common decency "... $25 a week, but on top of book keeping, I can also handle business correspondence and am well versed in Munson's Complete Phonography"
The Munson system of shorthand was, at this point in time, a fierce competitor to the Pitman system.
Priest nodded. "Munson, you say?" The old man asked. The name brought up the memory of Munson Miller, a name which had a place across the history of America --- and not in a good way. He and all descendants had been a scourge from Massachusetts to the Natchez Trace to the Western movement.
She realised that she was basically charging Philadelphia or New York rates of pay, but from Sally's story, these fellers seemed rather open-handed; it was worth a try.
She stood there, trying to look dignified after that unseemly display of Mammon worship.
"$25 per week? Well, I'll have to run that by Mr. Fortner. Hmm. What about $20 per week, and we can strike a deal right now?"
Oh dear, we're all of a flutter!
"$25 per week? Well, I'll have to run that by Mr. Fortner. Hmm. What about $20 per week, and we can strike a deal right now?"
Florence's mother had an axiom which had always steered her straight in business matters: If you cant get 5 take 2.
However, Florence wasn't selling fish on a Friday or almost rancid bacon here, she was selling herself. She felt herself stiffen and stand up straighter (and this a girl who some had speculated, walked with a ramrod inserted up somewhere where the Sun don't shine) and she heard herself say quietly and politely:
"Thank you Mr Priest, but I believe that I am worth more than that. If you do not have the authority to meet my terms then, yes, by all means consult with Mister Fortner, or perhaps grant me an interview with him in person."
She braced herself for a boot up the behind and a swift exit out of the door.
Address me as Hon. Hiram Priest, esq.
Priest's offer of $20 per week was quite generous considering prevailing wages in Kalispell.
He watched for the ramrod straight bookkeeper to cave to his offer.
However, Florence wasn't selling fish on a Friday or almost rancid bacon here, she was selling herself. She felt herself stiffen and stand up straighter (and this a girl who some had speculated, walked with a ramrod inserted up somewhere where the Sun don't shine) and she heard herself say quietly and politely:
"Thank you Mr Priest, but I believe that I am worth more than that. If you do not have the authority to meet my terms then, yes, by all means consult with Mister Fortner, or perhaps grant me an interview with him in person."
She braced herself for a boot up the behind and a swift exit out of the door.
Hiram reached into his pocket and pinched some snuff. Soon it was parked between his jaw bone and lower cheek. As he performed that ritual, he kept his eyes on Florence.
"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Patterson-Forde. Of course you realize that $20 per week is an unheard of amount of compensation, especially for someone who is, shall we say, sight unseen. What I mean is, apart from your ledgers here," he waved his hand at the books in front of them, "you are a bit of an unknown quantity."
The plucky Judge folded his arms across his vest.
"Tell you what," he began. "What if we start you out at $20 per week for the first month. Then, if we see extraordinary value in your talents which I'm sure you will exhibit, then after a month, we bump your salary up to $25 per week. Does that suit your fancy?"
Oh dear, we're all of a flutter!
"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Patterson-Forde. Of course you realize that $20 per week is an unheard of amount of compensation, especially for someone who is, shall we say, sight unseen."
Well, he was looking at her right now, wasn't he? She didn't point that out though.
What I mean is, apart from your ledgers here," he waved his hand at the books in front of them, "you are a bit of an unknown quantity."
The plucky Judge folded his arms across his vest.
"A good accountant is his ledgers!" Flo countered, unconsciously mirroring his arm folding.
"Tell you what," he began. "What if we start you out at $20 per week for the first month. Then, if we see extraordinary value in your talents which I'm sure you will exhibit, then after a month, we bump your salary up to $25 per week. Does that suit your fancy?"
Despite the fact that she would never actually see any of this money herself, her salary would be handed over straight to her Mother, of course, for Florence Patterson Forde, the number 25 had become an idée fixe, it was all or nothing with her - she had always been as stubborn as a mule, and would take something like this well beyond the line between hard-headedness and pure folly.
She gave the old man with his snuff filled cheek a small, sad, almost sympathetic smile, as if to say you poor poor man, you just let a wonderful opportunity slip through your fingers and picked up the ledgers.
"Good day, Mr Priest, I am so sorry to have wasted your valuable time."
Address me as Hon. Hiram Priest, esq.
"Tell you what," he began. "What if we start you out at $20 per week for the first month. Then, if we see extraordinary value in your talents which I'm sure you will exhibit, then after a month, we bump your salary up to $25 per week. Does that suit your fancy?"
Priest was sure she'd snap at that fair offer.
She gave the old man with his snuff filled cheek a small, sad, almost sympathetic smile, as if to say you poor poor man, you just let a wonderful opportunity slip through your fingers and picked up the ledgers.
"Good day, Mr Priest, I am so sorry to have wasted your valuable time."
She was leaving! Priest was not accustomed to be given the go-bye.
Still, they needed her expertise as well as Hiram wanted to find out about the company that could supply equipment, supplies and food to the mine site; the Potee Digs. It was then that he decided he'd take her up on her $25 wages by cutting the wages of some of the others -- that nigger cook, for starters.
"Hold on there, Miss Patterson-Forde. Don't get your back up. Maybe we can come to terms after all."
He waited for her to sit back down before continuing.
Oh dear, we're all of a flutter!
"Hold on there, Miss Patterson-Forde. Don't get your back up. Maybe we can come to terms after all."
He waited for her to sit back down before continuing.
She turned, feeling actually slightly bad, almost frightened in fact, that her hardball tactics had succeeded. She felt it was time for her to put more on the table herself.
She seated herself primly.
"I am glad that you are willing to consider the matter further, Mr Priest. Of course, if you do not like my work, you are completely at liberty to dispense with my services at any time, no questions asked. And think, as well as your saloon enterprise, there will be the books for your new mining concern to be thought of; it is my understanding from Miss Cutts that the two ventures are quite intimately intertwined, one set of eyes on both can only be beneficial to you and Mr Fortner in your oversight of pecuniary matters" she cooed, trying (unsuccessfully) to sound a bit less stiff and formal than usual, as knew that she usually came across as a little frosty. On more than one occasion her mother had admonished her: go thaw your drawers, Florence!
ooc: Sorry, missed Fortner's post what with all the other goings on in this thread.
Ralph agreed to present this offer to Caroline, confident she'd go along with it even with her intense dislike of Fortner and Priest. Caroline didn't need the extra money but she wasn't the sort to turn it down either.
Fortner smiled, "It's a deal then. I'll have Hiram gin up the paperwork for your signatures. And these meetings aren't like something at the Chicago Commodities exchange, it's just informal stuff. We have a few drinks, go over the numbers, talk about suppliers, talk about improvements. Talk about rough customers,..that sort of thing."
"Wouldn't know about no Chicago commodities," Ralph remarked dourly.
Franklin held out his hand. "Shake on the deal?"
"Yeah, those it still depends on whether Caroline agrees, remember that," Ralph extended his own hand then and gave it a hard pump or two.
"I'll talk ta her today and get back to you on her answer or maybe she'll give you her answer herself," he added.