“I think I can safely say that I will not be playing piano for the Union Pacific Railroad.”
Dupree laughed, and Hawke laughed with him. Then the three women laughed as well, and when the conductor happened to glance through the door and saw them all laughing, he turned away, angry and confused as to why Hawke would find it so amusing that he had just been fired.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Dupree asked.
At that moment, their meal was delivered and Hawke waited until the steward withdrew before he answered.
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll go looking for a saloon that needs a pianist.”
“Have you ever considered playing the piano in a whorehouse?”
“Jay!” Libby said.
“Well, let’s face it, dear, what we will be running is a whorehouse, no matter what fancy title we give it. And if Mr. Hawke accepts the invitation, he will have to know what’s going on upstairs.”
Hawke smiled. “I’ve not only considered playing in such an establishment, I’ve actually done it. At many of the saloons where I’ve worked, a rather brisk business was being conducted upstairs.”
“Then you have nothing, in principle, against the profession? You might come to work for us?”
“I have absolutely nothing in principle against playing the piano in a whorehouse,” Hawke said. “But I’m going to say no, because I don’t want to commit myself to anything right now. I do thank you for the job offer, though.”
“I understand,” Dupree said. “But I do want you to know that if you ever change your mind, the invitation still stands.”
Chapter 11
ALTHOUGH HAWKE HAD BEEN GONE LESS THAN two weeks, he almost didn’t recognize Green River when he returned. There were at least twice as many people as when he’d left. The new arrivals had come from all over the country: longshoremen from New York, coal miners from Pennsylvania, farmers from Missouri, and gamblers from New Orleans.
Their accents were different, their clothing different, their backgrounds different, but in one respect they were all the same. All were there in response to the news that had spread throughout the country about the gold discovered in the Sweetwater Mountains. And everyone was there to make their fortune.
Just exactly how they were going to do that differed among the individuals. Some planned to strike it rich in the goldfield. Others started new businesses to take advantage of the rush. In fact, the businesses were so new that most of them didn’t even have permanent buildings, but were working out of tents.
An outfitter was selling picks, shovels, tents, ponchos, canteens, knives, boots, everything a prospector would need to get started. A brand new wagon outfit, with the ambitious and optimistic name of Gold Nugget Haulers, was in business, providing both freighting and passenger service up to the Sweetwater Range.
One enterprising huckster was selling “Maps to the Goldfields,” purporting to show the best places to dig to guarantee success.
Jay Dupree and his girls planned to make their fortune by catering to the prurient interests of all, prospector and businessman alike.
“Well, now,” Dupree said, rubbing his hands together in glee as he eyed the crowded streets of Green River. “Ladies, I do believe we have already discovered gold.”
Not all the gold seekers were recent arrivals. Practically every ranch in the valley suffered losses, as cowboys left to search for gold. Northumbria was no exception. Three of Dorchester’s hands had left with the initial news of the discovery, now seven more, including his foreman, had come to see him.
Rob Dealey was at the head of the group, and he and the others stood on the front porch of the building the cowboys referred to as the “Big House,” holding their hats in their hands. Most of them couldn’t meet the gaze of the man who had kept them on year round, even during the slack season when all the other ranchers let their cowboys go.
“So, that’s the way it is, Mr. Dorchester,” Dealey said as he rolled the brim of the hat around in his hands. “Me ’n’ some of the boys figured that, well, if there is gold up there just lyin’ around waitin’ to be picked up, we’d like to try and get our hands on some of it.”
“All right,” Dorchester replied. “I certainly can’t force you to stay here.”
“So, what we was thinkin’,” Dealey went on, “that is, what the men wanted me to ask you was, uh, that is, if…”
“You are wanting to be paid out, is that it, Mr. Dealey?”
Dealey nodded. “Yes, sir, if you don’t mind. I mean, the thing is, you owe us the money up until now, so…”
“That’s not entirely correct,” Dorchester said. “The agreement is that I will pay you once a month, for a month’s work. If you haven’t done a month’s work, you haven’t completed your part of the agreement.”
The men looked at each other in disappointment and concern.
“But don’t worry,” Dorchester said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I fully intend to pay you, even though I am not legally bound to do so. I just wanted you to know the way it really was.”
“You’re a good man, Mr. Dorchester,” Dealey said. “Ever’body says you are the best rancher they ever worked for.”
“But not good enough to keep you away from the gold-fields, right?
Nobody answered.
“That’s all right,” Dorchester said. “I’ve no doubt but that if I were a young man, I would go up there myself. Wait here, I’ll get the money.”
“Hey, Eddie, what you goin’ to do with your money when you get rich?” one of the cowboys asked another.
“I don’t know. Maybe buy all the horehound candy they got in the store. Oh, and send my mama some money,” the young cowboy answered.
The others laughed.
“What about you, Win? What will you do?”
“If I get just a little bit rich, I’ll prob’ly go someplace like San Francisco or Denver and spend it all on a good time. But if I was to get really rich, why I reckon I’d come back here and buy this ranch,” Win said.
All the cowboys laughed again.
“What makes you think Mr. Dorchester would sell it?” Eddie asked.
“I’d give him so much money he’d have to sell it. Then I’d let him and his daughter stay with me in the Big House.”
“Oh, I’m sure they would love that,” one of the others said, to more laughter.
Dorchester had overheard the last bit of conversation and chuckled to himself as he came back out onto the porch with his money box. He walked over to sit at the table he used on pay day, opened the box and took out a ledger book.
“Mr. Dorchester, if it don’t work out up there for us…uh, that is, if we don’t find nothin’, can we come back and work for you?” one of the cowboys asked.
“Well, now, I don’t know about that,” Dorchester replied. “If I find it necessary to hire more men while you are gone, then I’m afraid there won’t be a place for you.”
“I reckon that’s only right,” one of them said. “I mean, what with us runnin’ off on you an’ all.”
“I will take you back if I have a place for you,” Dorchester said. “But, Mr. Dealey, if you come back and I am able to rehire you, you must understand that I won’t be able to give you your job as foreman back. I will have to replace you as soon as I can.”
“Yes, sir,” Dealey said. “But I don’t reckon I’ll be comin’ back. If there’s gold up there, I aim to find it, and if I do, and get rich, I won’t be doin’ no more ranchin’.”
“Very well, as long as you understand. All right, gentlemen, as you know, I keep my book in chronological and not alphabetical order. So line up according to how long you have been working at Northumbria.”
