Lean and Hungry, Tag: Any help at the saloon

[Robert Munroe]

June 9th
Late afternoon


Robert entered thru the swinging doors, adjusting his eyes from the bright sunlight of a June day to the smoky dimness of the saloon. It was hardly crowded but it certainly wasn't empty either. Naturally he drew a few stares from some of the folks, managed to ellicit a frown or two and of course some bemused smiles. He knew some saloons didn't let young people like him in their establishments.

Well, he wasn't really there for drinking, though he wouldn't be averse to a beer if they let him. No, now that he actually had some real money in his pocket he was going to buy himself a nice big meal. He nodded to a few people as he made his way past them.

"Hey, kid. Your Pa know yer in here?" grinned one cowpoke.

"Not sure they have any milk today, boy!" smirked a bearded man leaning up against the bar.

Bobby just shrugged and moved on past them to go to the very end of the bar. He didn't want any trouble, any arguments, he just wanted to eat. Hopefully the place had a cook. He waited patiently enough until he got someone's momentary attention then spoke up.

"Howdy, I'm wonderin' if you serve meals. I'm looking for the biggest steak you got and maybe some potatoes with that? And wouldn't mind me some coffee either."

"Oh, and jus' so you know, I can pay for it. I got money," he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a few of the greenbacks the outlaw had thrown his way then held them out for the other to see clearly.

[Samuel Felix]

---

June 9th, 1869
Late Afternoon

It was turning out to be just another normal day and Sam Felix had been up since before daybreak, out on the balcony with his hot cup of tea watching the town awaken and come to life at dawn’s light. Summer mornings were always the best, a fiery beginning to another beautiful day west of the Colorado Rockies. In early June the ice caps on the tops of the skyward bound peaks had receded into nothing, sending fresh mountain spring water flushing into the Buffalo Creek to nourish the land. It had rained the day before and conditions were still soggy though the streets were almost always thick with mud and excrement both equine and human from tossing out chamber pots.

The breakfast crew cleared out and as usual Sam hung around his place, always sticking close, the last time he had left his saloon was to . . . damn he couldn’t even remember, oh it was last fall when the town was invited to the barn raising at Hellfire Ranch. But he had now been invited to the birthday party of his “grandson” Daniel Scarborough and in a week’s time he would be up at Henry’s place. So he maybe left the saloon three perhaps four times a year.

It was quiet until noon when his barmaid, Mary Murphy came in, tying her hair back with that sultry grin on her face when she greeted her boss like she had every day for the past three years. She started serving drinks and food, walking about in her usual trousers, loose fitting shirt and duster, complete with a Colt tucked into her belt and no doubt a Derringer concealed in her boot. The woman was dangerous, but also five months pregnant so she had every right to protect herself. When the boy came in Sam gave a few of the heckling patrons a bad eye and quieted them, anyone could come in here and despite a few mishaps, betrayed by the black blood stains on the floorboards, and the fact that it was indeed a saloon, Sam liked to run a family friendly place. He considered all the young folk of Buffalo Creek to be his children, the older folk, his brothers and sisters, he was a part of one big family and he looked out for everyone. The kid promised he could pay for the big meal he was requesting and even produced the bills as the saloon owner stood there with his arms crossed over the bar and Mary went ahead and walked back to tell Ramona about the order, “Our biggest steak almost covers a whole dinner plate, hope you can eat that much.” he warned as Mary was already bringing the plate back, just as Sam had said the steak was nearly hanging over the edges of the plate and a spoonful of potatoes had been dropped right in the middle, the Latina cook had even spread a little gravy over it since it was after lunch and the food was a little dry, “I hope you’ll understand if I tell you I make it my duty t’know everybody in this town, I don’t believe we’ve met.” he stated, aiming to get a name from the boy and if he so wished, a story of some sort as to why he was here.

[Robert Munroe]

The rather stern looking man eyed him over least wise til he produced the money but then Robert thought he noticed a slight softening at that point. The lady went to pass his order on to the kitchen while the man informed him their biggest steak was capable of covering an entire plate.

"Oh yessir, I can eat the whole thing. I ain't ate much of anything lately," Bobby assured the man.

The service was wonderful, he was surprised, pleasantly surprised at how fast the food came out for him. And the man hadn't exaggerated either, the slab of meat was huge. And piled on top of it were potatoes with gravy too. The smell and the look of it was wonderful.

"Thankya, ma'am," the boy remembered his manners as the woman set the heavy plate down on the bar.

Grabbing the knife and fork provided, Bobby didn't waste any time tucking into the meal. Cutting into the steak, it was a little tough but once he started chewing, it really tasted excellent. The potatoes were fork tender and the gravy topped them perfectly. He barely paused for breath as he cut and chewed, cut and chewed.

The man wasn't done with the conversation though and asked him his name. Fair enough question Bobby figured, as he swallowed down a big hunk of meat then paused.

"Umm, I'm Robert...Robert Munroe. And no sir, you wouldn't know me as I ain't from around here. I just came inta town now. Figured I'd get me something to eat first. Then maybe look for someplace to stay for the night."

[Samuel Felix]

---

June 9th, 1869
Late Afternoon

Well the boy didn’t look no bigger than a squirrel fart and certainly Sam had been wondering if he could handle a whole steak from their saloon, which were rather legendary. Most grown men only ordered a half of one. Mary usually took a whole steak home in the evenings when she left work so she could feed her old man something, the marshal was well fed, “You look it.” he was a tad on the scrawny side and looked like he had missed a few meals, unlike Sam who weighed almost as much as the judge who would be in later today. Cyrus Savage tipped the scales at nearly one-hundred ninety pounds and Sam was just ten or fifteen behind him, but eight inches shorter in stature.

It was after lunch hours so the food was just sitting out, left over after a surplus in cooking and expecting more people. But the rush could die off very unexpectedly and they were often left with a big pot of stew or several plates of steaks, “No problem Sweetie.” Mary smiled and of course gave him that harmless wink as she walked away to clean a table. No one bothered Mrs. Murphy anymore where they had used to heckle her for working in a bar and wearing men’s clothes, one good punch to the face and they shut their mouths. No one grabbed her roomy posterior either or they would have her lawman husband to deal with and he could be a jealous and dangerous man. He was okay with the look but don’t touch rule and if Mary was okay with it, but f someone happened to overstep their boundaries they would find themselves dragged out of the establishment by their ear.

Sam yawned as the boy dug in and then subtly implied he wanted to know a little more about the lad to which he received a name and a request for a place to stay, “Well Robert, most drifters comin through this time o’year sleep out on the prairie, saves on money but there is a boarding house across the street.” the man that owned the bank now, came into town three years ago and had not a dime to his name and slept out on the grasslands, asking for handouts at the back door of the saloon for a few weeks before he got a job and then earned enough to purchase the building up the street and now he owned an entire company. So a lot could be said for someone making something of nothing, there was no shame in sleeping outside.

“But that aside, I’m Sam and I own the joint, I’ll help ya if I can but if you’re just movin on I’ll wish ya luck.” watching the kids shovel food into his face Sam looked somewhat pensive, “I’d rather ya didn’ choke t’death in my place son.” he laughed and handed the kid the coffee he had asked for, fresh brewed this morning.

[Robert Munroe]

The woman smiled at him and even called him 'sweetie'. Robert paused in his eating to just nod and smile before going back to work on that huge steak. He couldn't help but notice the gal was pregnant and had to wonder if she was being forced to keep working in such a condition? Still, none of his business and he knew how to mind his own business, good for self-preservation it was.

Everything tasted so good as he continued to both eat and try and carry on a conversation with the man. The man had a point about sleeping out in the open, it was free and this time of the year it wasn't so bad with a good fire. "Oh, I know. I sleep out all the time. But you see, since I got me some money I'd like to just once sleep in a real bed with an actual roof over my head. Maybe it's foolish but...well..." he let the thought trail off.

Man mentioned a boarding house, that was good to know. "Oh, thanks," he wanted to be polite then took another huge bite and began chewing. So the fella owned the place, he had sort of figured that but now he knew for certain.

"Well....Sam," he wasn't used to calling adults by their first names normally but that was all that was given, "I ain't rightly decided yet if I'm gonna move on or not. I wouldn't mind finding someplace where I could settle on in but haven't had much luck with that."

Guess all his chewing worried the man a bit as he expressed a concern about choking. Robert just shook his head, "No sir, I'll be right careful about choking. Might have to spit up some of this fine meal if I did and that'd be a real shame."

They had remembered his request for coffee and now a steaming cup was handed to him. He took a slight sip and put it down for the time being to cool some, "Oh, thankya. It's good just a bit hot."

"Any chance you know of anyone hirin' around town?"he thought he'd at least ask.

[Samuel Felix]

---

June 9th, 1869
Late Afternoon

“Eh, do what suits ya.” he concluded nonchalantly with an indifferent shrug. He just recalled living by himself for a while and wishing like hell when he hadn’t enough money for food, that he had not spent it on superfluous things. Sam had since learned to be frugal, spending money on things he needed rather than things he wanted.

“It’s a quiet town, well . . .” the saloon owner trailed off, looking to the opposite wall with the bullet holes in it from the shootout in February, he just got tired of filling them in and Mary had told him to just leave them, it added character to the place, “most of the time anyways.” he added with a reassuring grin.

Well the kid was certainly mannerly and Sam finally let loose a little chuckle, almost in a way of thinking the lad was being cute. Straightening up Felix watched his customers and polished a whisky tumbler as a beer mug slipped the fish-like grip of one of the local drunks and shattered on the floor, frothy brew spreading across the already stained floor partially covering a dark blood stain from where Daniel Helm had nearly bled out and died after getting stabbed several months ago. A few of the patrons shushed up, turning to Sam, a few others to the fiery barmaid who had planted her hands on her wide hips and furrowed her brow, “Break another one, I break you.” the saloon owner growled and didn’t receive the most respectful of responses, a curt nod and no apology to speak of as Sam continued to stare at the back of the guy’s head for several moments but he never turned around again as Mary got to picking up the broken glass.

After the tension lessened a little Sam gave the kid his coffee and watched him try to drink it right away and then say it was hot, to which Sam just shrugged with that knowing look on his face as if to ask “what did you expect?”
“Hirin . . . hmm, I’d check Market Street, lots o’grocery stores, little shops, diners I’m sure they’d be lookin for help. Hell if you’d showed up two months ago I woulda paid ya a-hundred dollars t’go on up the mountain an’ get me some ice.” he was still running low despite charging an extra bit for whisky on the rocks, “But Hellfire Ranch is always lookin for hands, how good are ya with cattle, a horse?” it was hard work, long hours and meant a stiff and sore back at night when you laid down for a little rest, but it paid well.

[Robert Munroe]

Whilst continuing to work on that large steak, Robert watched the goings on. When one customer dropped the beer glass, the boy got a chance to see the owner's anger and that was enough to convince him that he should never get into trouble with this fellow.

After receiving his coffee, he turned the conversation to a request as much as a question, wondering if the man knew of any jobs available here and about. The man suggested quite a few places and if necessary Bobby was determined to eventually try them all and see if he could pick up some honest work. All places in town so they'd be easy to locate too. Seems he missed a nice job though, riding for ice? He could have done that alright. Missed timing though, his luck.

"And I'd have taken ya up on that job, sir. That's real good wages alright just to fetch somethin'," Bobby smiled.

Then the man mentioned a certain Hellfire ranch was hiring. Now that might be a real possibility?

"A ranch....that might be good. I worked on a ranch for awhile but the owner got killed by rustlers and his poor wife sold the herd and went back East. So I moved on.

"I got me a horse, little mare but she's real dependable. So yessir, I can ride just fine. Maybe I will check that ranch out then?"

Bobby then sighed, he was suddenly feeling a mite full, having polished off all but one corner of the steak not to mention all of the potatoes. He set the knife and fork down, "That sure was a great steak, sir, what do I owe ya?"

[Samuel Felix]

---

June 9th, 1869
Late Afternoon

“Yeah I’m runnin low an’ didn’ have the means of doin it myself, an’ nobody around here’s that desperate for money.” he had even gone so far as to put an ad in the classified section of the town paper and then even had his friend Heck put one in for the Rocky Mountain paper out of Denver. Still nothing. Oh well, so he started charging extra for ice when his patrons ordered their drinks, to which he earned the occasional annoyance when someone went up in arms about it. It was highway robbery, charging a man for frozen water in his whisky, which he actually understood, it was rather ludicrous, “But it melted in the spring, runoff swelled the creek, drowned about fifty head of cattle up the road from here, happens every year.” he shrugged. What could ya do?

He nodded, it was too bad about the lad’s former employer but unfortunately it happened from time to time. Sam swore if he ever had cattle he would not interfere with rustlers, livelihood or not he would rather lose a few dozen head than his life. But unlike most folk around here the saloon owner was perfectly content with his life as it was and had no intentions of ever owning any livestock. Samuel Felix did not even own a horse and hadn’t ridden one in nearly ten years now. Wagons were good for him, a team of mules and he was set, “Mister Helm could use the help, it’s about five miles from here, straight up the road that way, take a left at Henry’s Farm and Hellfire is two miles up that road.” he instructed. Henry’s place was closer but with two-hundred animals he was not in need of any kind of assistance. The Helm ranch was the proud owner of a few thousand animals and more acreage than the banker’s place multiplied by twenty.

“Three bits but I can certainly make change of one of those bills, just got new registers an’ I’m now figurin out how t’use em.” they’d had the new drawers for a few months now . . . “Good luck job huntin.”

[Robert Munroe]

Robert slowly nodded as a sad look came over his youthful features. He'd seen cows drown before in high water and it wasn't pleasant, poor dumb creatures. Part of the dangers of the cattle business though.
"Yep, spring brings floods."

Then the man launched into more detail about the one ranch, the Helms spread so Bobby listened very carefully about the specifics. He could find that place easily enough, he was sure.
"Thanks."

The boy then reached for the small wad of greenbacks he'd had displayed before, setting to pay up for the wonderful meal. "I'm stuffed and I ain't had that feelin' in a long time, I'll tell ya," he flashed a quick grin separating a dollar from the rest then glancing over to check out that fancy box he knew to be a register, not that he had any idea how it worked. He did know they made a little bell-like noise when they opened, he'd seen one in use in another town.
"I'm sure you'll get used ta it, sir."

The man wished him well in his search for a job and Bobby nodded as he watched the man make change, "Thankya, sir. and for all yer advice too, I do appreciate the kindness. Food was great too. You got a right swell place here."