“Well,” he said, “I still got work to do, inventory’s got to be took.”
“I could do that.”
“Really, Jim?” Peacock asked. “You even know how?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then I’ll see you later.”
Masterson watched Peacock walk across the saloon to the back room, then got behind the bar himself and started counting whiskey bottles.
CHAPTER 21
Butler found Mary Jane Healy waiting for him when he left the Long Branch. This time he was not surprised.
“You’re persistent,” he said.
“Yes, I am,” she said. “That’s what makes me a good newspaperwoman.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he said.
“Then talk to me,” she said, falling into step with him.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Yes, there is,” she said. “Why you’re in Dodge, how long you plan to stay—”
“What makes you think your readers would be interested in me?” he asked. “Why not interview somebody like…Ben Thompson?”
“I did,” she said, “when he first came to town. Now he was very cooperative.”
“He was?”
“Very,” she said, nodding.
“When was that?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“Have you got a copy of that issue?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “We have copies of every issue—plus issues of other newspapers.”
Struck by an idea, he stopped walking. She had to stop abruptly and still went two steps past him.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said.
“What?”
“Let me look through your archives and I’ll let you interview me.”
“Our archives? Why?”
“I’m a student of history,” he told her. “I want to read up on Dodge City.”
“Fine,” she said quickly. “I can even help you, save you time having to find specifics about Dodge. I’ll just show you the newspapers that will have what you want.”
“Okay,” he said, “let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now,” he said. “I’ve got nothing else to do.”
“But…what about gambling?” she asked. “Don’t you want to play poker?”
“I will,” he said, “later. Right now I want to see all those newspapers.”
“Well,” she said, “okay, then, let’s go.”
When Mary Jane came walking back into the office of the Dodge City Times with Butler, her brother raised his eyebrows. He spoke to Butler, not to her.
“I thought you would have lost her by now.”
“She’s hard to lose,” Butler said.
“I know.”
“Lou,” M.J. said, “Mr. Butler is going to be in the back room looking at old newspapers.”
“Fine by me,” Lou Healy said, “Just don’t breathe too heavy, you’ll end up with black ink on your lungs.”
Butler looked at M.J.
“He’s kidding,” she said. “Come on, I’ll get you situated and start bringing out some papers.”
He followed her into a back room where she left him seated at a long wooden table, then went to get some papers. When she returned she had copies of not only the Times but the Hays Sentinel, the Yates Center News, and even the New York Herald.
“When you’re finished with these I can get you some more,” she said.
“I appreciate it, Miss—”
“Just call me M.J.,” she said. “Everybody does.”
As she leaned over him he smelled not newspaper ink, but her. She’d obviously had a bath that morning, and her hair smelled fresh and clean. Suddenly, he felt dirty.
“I’ll be back to check on you later,” she said.
“I’ll be here.”
At the door she stopped and turned.
“By the way, when can we do that interview?”
“How about tonight?”
She looked surprised.
“That’d be great. I can come to your hotel—”
“Why don’t we have supper?” he asked.
“Supper? Oh, you mean…together? I, uh, usually I eat with my brother but—”
“I’ll buy.”
“Well…all right. I guess he can fend for himself tonight,” she agreed.
“I’ll pick the restaurant,” he said. “I know just the place for it. What time do you finish here?”
“About five, but—”
“Let’s do it at six, then,” he said. “You can conduct the interview while we eat.”
“I’ll remember to bring a pad,” she said. “Well, all right, now that that’s settled, I’ll leave you to it.”
He started going through newspaper, hoping he’d have time to go back to his hotel and have a bath.
CHAPTER 22
Butler read in the Dodge City Times that James H. “Dog” Kelley was supposedly the leader of a group called the Dodge City Gang, who wanted Dodge City to be a wide-open town because it was profitable for them that way. Most of them—even lawmen like Wyatt Earp and Jim Masterson—owned saloons and gambling halls.
On the other side were men like A. B. Webster, members of a group called the Reformers. They were determined to clean the town up. They wanted newspapers all over the country to stop printing things like, “The town is full of prostitutes and every house is a brothel” (Hays Sentinel); and “Dodge City. A Den of Thieves and Cutthroats—The Whole Town in League to Rob the Unwary Stranger (Yates Center News). And even after Prohibition laws were approved in Kansas, the New York Herald wrote: “saloons, gambling rooms and dance halls run with perfect freedom and their proprietors are the leading men in town.”
The first step toward the Reformers’ plan came when Bat Masterson was narrowly beaten in the election for sheriff by George W. Hinkle. But while Hinkle was thought to be anti-Gang he was also a saloon owner. So it wasn’t until just a few days ago, when A. B. Webster defeated Dog Kelley for mayor—after Kelley had served from 1877–1881—that the Reformers really came to power. Hinkle immediately dismissed all of the law enforcement officials and replaced them. That was where the town stood now.
When M.J. came back in Butler took his father’s watch out and looked at the time. The pocket watch was the only thing with any sentimental value that he had brought with him when he left home. He was surprised to see that it was almost five.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I got busy and forgot you were back here. Did you find what you wanted?”
“Yes, I did. Thanks.” Actually, he’d read all about Dodge City, but he’d never gotten to read the interview she did with Ben Thompson. “Can I help you put these papers back?”
“No, that’s okay,” she said. “I’ll have Lou do it tomorrow. I have to go home and get ready for our interview.”
He showed her his black-ink stained fingertips and said, “I have to go back to my hotel and get cleaned up.”
“I’ll just lock up, then, and we can meet at the restaurant.”
He followed her out, and after she’d locked the door he saw her turn and look at him expectantly.
“Are we going to the Delmonico? I can meet you—”
“No,” he said, “I’m taking you someplace else.”
“I thought we’d meet—”
“I’ll come by your home and fetch you,” he said. “Just give me directions.”
She hesitated only a moment, then complied, giving him detailed instructions on how to reach the house she shared with her brother.
“It’s the house we grew up in,” she ended.