‘Is the Pride of Dixie appearing at your place tonight Freddie?’ Kate asked during their period of friendship following the departure of Lefarge’s men.
‘No. I could only get him for one night. He’s booked into a place in Brownton tonight.’
‘I thought I saw him in town yesterday?’
‘So you did,’ Freddie replied. ‘He’s still at the hotel and plans to go up to Brownton on the noon train.’
Never had Kate fought to keep any trace of emotion showing in her voice or on her face as she did at that moment Keeping her tones calm, she remarked, ‘I’d best go check on my bar stock to see what replacements I need.’
‘I’ve some work to do, too. How do you like the town?’
‘It’s great, one of the best I’ve ever been in.’
‘I won’t say it!’ Freddie thought ‘I’ll stay friendly.’
‘I almost hate myself for doing this,’ Kate thought as Freddie walked away. ‘But it’ll teach her a lesson and show her who’s the best saloon owner.’
Freddie’s friendly feeling lasted until the evening when she heard that the Pride of Dixie was appearing at the Buffalo for two nights. As clearly as if it lay written before her, Freddie saw what must have happened. On learning the Pride was still in town, Kate visited him and must have told him what sort of place he had booked into next. Then Kate offered to hire him to appear in her place and had the best drawing attraction possible. Trade was not very brisk in the Fair Lady that night and the noise from the Buffalo made it far worse.
‘Babsy, Vera, Jill, Rita!’ Freddie called and the girls gathered around her. ‘Are you game to put one over on the Buffalo crowd tomorrow?’
‘Aren’t we though?’Babsy replied.
Word passed around the town during Monday evening and throughout Tuesday that some of Freddie’s girls had quarreled over a poker game and would play out a match the Tuesday evening to decide who was best. Freddie saw to it that word of the stakes the girls played for would reach the right ears. Not even the Pride of Dixie could compete with the sight of four pretty girls playing poker for their clothes upon the Fair Lady’s stage.
Dusty saw no cause to interfere for he reckoned that Freddie had good sense enough to know when to have her girls stop the betting. In this he proved correct. The girls bet and removed right down to their scanty underwear but on the final bet the stage’s curtain dropped. Before her audience could become restless, Freddie had drinks on the house called and started her show.
Wednesday found both saloons starting without a top-name drawing card and Kate’s girls appeared in even shorter than usual dresses. By opening time on Thursday night Freddie’s girls entertained their customers wearing skirts that barely reached below their stocking tops. News of this reached the Buffalo and saw Kate’s girls heading for their rooms where snipping scissors lowered the level of their dresses’ bosoms and removed the skirts so as to show bare flesh over stocking tops.
By the time Friday evening came around the saloons’ customers were taking bets on how little the girls would be wearing. Kate’s girls showed up in low cut outfits which were little more than bodices, for they ended at a level with the brief, frilly-legged panties and left the rest exposed. For her part, Freddie sent the Fair Lady to war wearing skirts that trailed to the floor—at the rear, the entire front being removed to the waist and the upper part cut down to just over the nipples of the girls’ unsupported bosoms.
Goggle-eyed cowhands, especially those who came in that day after a month and more on the trail, staggered from one place to the other. The dress of the girls attracted attention from another source too.
‘Sarah,’ Dusty said, entering the main office where his female and male deputies gathered around the desk discussing the saloon feud. ‘Go tell Freddie I want to see her and for her to come straight away. In her working clothes!’
‘Sure thing, cap’n,’ Sarah replied, noting the emphasis he put on the last four words.
‘Lon, go bring Buffalo Elate in. The rest of you get out on your rounds.’
When that note entered Dusty Fog’s voice, his friends knew better than stand around asking fool questions. At such a moment the best place to be was anywhere well clear of the Rio Hondo gun wizard for, man, he was angry and when Dusty lost his temper it behooved all sensible folks to seek out and take shelter in the storm cellars.
‘I’ll go change,’ Freddie said when Sarah brought Dusty’s orders.
While she wore her usual working clothes and not the abbreviated costume sported by her girls, Freddie made a point of never visiting anywhere in her capacity as mayor unless dressed town style.
‘The cap’n said to come in your working clothes,’ Sarah replied.
‘But I won’t be a moment changing,’ Freddie objected and started to turn.
Catching Freddie’s arm, Sarah held her boss and their eyes met, surprise showing in the English girl’s and grim determination in Sarah’s.
‘I don’t know if I could drag you down there, Miss Freddie,’ Sarah stated, ‘but I’ll sure as hell have to try. Cap’n Fog’s riled and when he’s riled it don’t pay to go against his orders.’
Then Freddie got it. This was not a friendly request from the marshal to the mayor, asking for an informal chat. She was being summoned before the head of the Mulrooney peace officers as a saloonkeeper who had stepped too far over the line. So Freddie went along with Sarah and arrived at the office at the same time as Buffalo Kate appeared escorted by the Kid.
‘In here, ladies!’ Dusty ordered, in a tone which showed he did not regard them as being lady-like. ‘Go help make the round, Sarah, Lon.’
Kate glanced at Freddie and promised herself that if the English girl had used her civic influence to make trouble, she would give her the licking of her life on the spot.
If Freddie noticed Kate’s expression, she gave no sign of it. On other occasions when Freddie visited Dusty, she found a chair awaiting her. This time there was only one chair and Dusty sat in it, not even bothering to go through the social form of rising when ladies entered the room. For a time nobody spoke. Kate shuffled her feet and even Freddie’s serene calm quavered under Dusty’s cold-eyed gaze.
‘What do they wear on Monday?’ he asked at last. ‘Or aren’t you bothering to have them in clothes?’
‘That’s an idea I hadn’t thought of,’ Freddie said, guessing what was coming and hoping to carry it off lightly. ‘Although I always believe a girl looks more seductive when wearing just a small amount of clothing.’
Her attempt failed by a good country mile.
‘Look,’ Dusty growled. ‘I don’t give a damn that you pair both want to be the saloon queen of Mulrooney. I don’t care whose place gets the most trade. What I do care about is you dressing your girls in a way that’s hotting up every girl-hungry cowhand, railroad man and skin hunter in town to the point where he’s ready to grab hold of the first woman he sees and let it go.’
‘It’s not that bad—’ began Kate.
‘Like hell it isn’t!’ Dusty barked. ‘Three times already tonight I’ve had to whip down fellers who were all set to go and couldn’t find a gal to go with. It’s only lucky that I was on hand or some innocent gal would have suffered—and for what, so you pair could try to haul in some of the trade that might be headed to the other’s saloon.’
‘We were only competing for tr—’ Freddie started to explain.
‘You were acting like a pair of money-hungry sluts without a lousy brain between the pair of you!’
Anger glowed in Freddie’s eyes, the kind of righteous anger a guilty conscience faced with the truth often caused. ‘You can’t talk to us like that, Captain Fog!’
‘I’ll talk to you how I feel like,’ Dusty answered. ‘There are men in this town who haven’t seen a woman for weeks and you’re dangling your half-naked girls all around them. I figured that as mayor, you could be relied on to show better sense than that, Miss Woods. And I sure as hell reckoned that you’d been in the saloon business long enough to know better, Miss Gilgore. Now get the hell out of my sight, both of you. In thirty minutes I’ll be visiting your places and if I find one girl not wearing a dress that comes below the knees all round and covers her tits, I’ll close you both down. Got it?’
A red-faced Freddie nodded her head and an equally discomforted Kate gave her silent agreement that she got ‘it’. Dusty did not even bother to look at them again. After a significant glance at the wall clock, he settled down to writing in the jail log. Turning, both women slunk out of the office and made their way in silence to the door. In her heart each of them knew Dusty to be right and Freddie could not help but wonder at the change in one whom she always regarded as a quiet-spoken, polite young man.
‘Whew!’ she gasped as they stepped into the cool night air and the range breeze fanned their hot cheeks. ‘I feel about three inches high,’
‘And me,’ Kate replied. ‘This was all your fault!’
‘Mine!’ Freddie squeaked. ‘You started it when you stole the Pride of Dixie!’
‘And you had your sluts stripping on the stage!’
‘Don’t call my girls sluts. They’re not cat-house culls like that bunch you hire.’
‘Cat-house culls!’ Kate hissed, clenching her fists. ‘You’re asking—’
‘I make it twenty-three minutes, ladies!’ Dusty’s voice cut in. ‘You’re not giving your girls much time to dress.’
For a moment Freddie and Kate glared at each other, standing face to face. Attracted by their voices, a small crowd stood around watching them Neither wanted to pull out and look like she was running away. Yet neither wanted to have her place closed for disobeying Dusty’s orders.
‘This town isn’t big enough for both of us!’ Kate warned. ‘One of us has got to go!’
‘Then you’d better start packing!’ Freddie replied. ‘Good night!’
At exactly the same instant they turned away from each other; Freddie stamping off along the sidewalk and Kate crossing the street. Half an hour Dusty had given them and both knew he would not be more than a few seconds late.
Not until half way to the Buffalo did Kate realize that Freddie had not used her influence to make trouble for her rival, and that Dusty treated his friend—who was also the town’s leading citizen—to the same hide-searing tongue-lashing that he dished out to the errant Kate. She was willing to bet that if Freddie failed to improve her girls’ dress, the Fair Lady would be padlocked before midnight. So all right, the Limey hadn’t screamed out and stood on her civic status; that still did not excuse her insulting Kate’s girls. It was time Miss Woods learned who had best claim to the title of saloon queen of Mulrooney.
Freddie stormed back to the Fair Lady, cheeks burning and ears tingling. On the way she decided that she asked for all Dusty said to her, but did not intend to let Kate get away with her insults; Kate was right about one thing; Mulrooney could not hold both of them.
When Dusty arrived at the Fair Lady exactly half an hour after his warning, he found the girls dressed in their original clothes and a much calmer air around the place. On visiting the Buffalo, he saw that Kate had also taken his warning to heart. But he knew the feud was far from over and would not be until one or the other knew for sure who was boss.
A man had been standing outside the jail, down the side alley by Dusty’s office and listening to the small Texan’s angry words which came through the open window. Just as the listener was about to walk away, he saw a youngster carrying a bundle of large white posters coming along the street. Stopping, the youngster hung one of the posters on a wall, pinning it up with blows of a hammer. Then he came on and halted by the door of the jail.
‘Can I put this sign up here, cap’n?’ he called.
Coming from his office, Dusty walked to the front door and looked down at the youngster. ‘Now that all depends what it is, boy,’ he said.
‘Mr. Dongelon’s got him a real fist-fighting ring like they have back east and he’s offering a hundred dollars to any feller as can stand up against that pugilist—what in hell that might be—he’s brought out from the east.’
‘Is that so?’ Dusty grinned. ‘When’s this pugilist coming?’
‘Should be here by Monday, but Mr. Dongelon wants to make sure everybody knows in good time.’
‘Then you’d best hang up that sign real quick, amigo.’ The listener remained in the alley until after the boy hung up his sign. After the youngster departed and Dusty had returned to his office, the man left the alley and walked along the street. Finding one of Dongelon’s advertising posters on a closed store’s wall, the man tore it down and thrust it into his pocket. He went to where a good horse stood, mounted it and rode out of town going west along the railroad track in the direction of Brownton.
Along towards midnight Dusty and the Kid were making their final rounds when they saw a man fastening a poster on to a walk Neither bothered to check, putting the incident down to some cowhand high-spirits. Most likely he was turning the posters upside down, or face to the wall; both cowhand tricks when liquored up. It would not harm the posters and might even attract more attention to the forthcoming event Dongelon arranged.
‘Let’s go grab a cup of coffee, Lon,’ Dusty said. ‘Maybe those posters’ll take folk’s minds off Freddie and Kate.’
‘Maybe,’ agreed the Kid.
Freddie Woods was dreaming that she and Buffalo Kate were fighting. They were on the floor, Freddie’s right fist dug into the blonde’s hair, her left pounding at Kate’s face and Babsy stood over them shaking Freddie by the shoulder. ‘Miss Freddie! Miss Freddie! Wake up!’
Slowly Freddie came out of her sleep, finding herself lying face down, her right hand gouging into the pillow and her left pounding at it. Standing by the bed and looking excited, Babsy held out a large sheet of white paper with something printed on it. Rolling on to her back, Freddie sat up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. Several of the girls stood behind Babsy and all showed considerable excitement for an early hour on Sunday morning.
‘What—what’s wro—’ Freddie began, then her eyes focused on the poster in Babsy’s hands.
CHALLENGE Miss Freddie Woods and Miss Buffalo Kate Gilgore will engage in a bout of pugilism in the ring at the Buffalo Saloon tonight, Saturday, at 9 o’clock to decide who is the Saloon Queen of Mulrooney, the loser to get out of town and all proceeds to be given to the Mulrooney Church Social Fund.
‘Where did you get this?’ Freddie gasped.
‘Nailed to the wall outside,’ Babsy replied. ‘But they’re plastered all over town.’
Swinging her feet from out of the bed, Freddie rose and crossed the room. She drew back the curtains and looked along Main Street. At three different points, including before the Buffalo Saloon, she saw small groups of excited people standing and looking at sheets of paper nailed to walls.
‘Coo’er, Miss Freddie,’ Babsy said, her eyes wide with surprise. ‘You never told me you was going to paste her earhole.’
You’ll lick her good, Miss Freddie,’ another of the girls stated and the rest muttered their agreement.
It seemed that the girls took it for granted that Freddie had issued the challenge and all felt assured that she would win. Freddie frowned at the thought. If Kate wanted a fight, and the poster indicated that she did—or why would the poster say the bout’s rendezvous was the Buffalo—she could have one. But Freddie wanted the fight to be private. Then Freddie saw the eager faces of her girls and heard their chatter as they excitedly discussed the forthcoming whipping and expulsion of Buffalo Kate.
One thing Freddie knew for certain. Unless she accepted Kate’s challenge, she would be finished in Mulrooney.
In the Buffalo, Wally the head bartender stood in Kate’s room and watched his boss read the poster he had brought in.
‘Are you going through with it, Kate?’ he asked.
‘Has she left me any choice?’ Kate replied. ‘I’ll give her one thing though. She’s sport enough to say we’ll have the fight here, even if she has given all the profits away,’
‘Yeah, but—’
‘But what?’
You’ll lick her, boss, that’s for sure—’
You don’t sound too sure,’ Kate remarked.
If he had told the truth, Wally was not too sure, Since his arrival in Mulrooney, and despite the feud, Wally had become attached to Vera, one of Freddie’s barmaids. Among other things he learned about the talented Miss Woods was how she licked Big Sarah in a fight and, according to Vera, showed considerable fist fighting skill to do so. Wally recalled hearing of women pugilists and had seen one bout between a pair of them. Kate might be a tough girl who could take care of herself in a rough-house bar-room brawl, but entering a ring would be a different matter and Wally figured that Miss Woods must expect to have an edge or she would not have selected such a method of settling their differences.
Throwing a poster on the desk in the jail’s main office Mark Counter looked at Dusty Fog.
‘Do you reckon this’ll come off, Dusty?’
‘I can’t see either of them backing down. With any luck they’ll pound some sense into their fool heads and stop this feuding,’ Dusty replied. ‘Say, where did you get this?’
‘From outside the hotel. It’s only one of plenty and they’re attracting a heap of interest around town.’
Just how much interest became apparent in the next couple of hours. The posters had been spread around town and at the various camps outside city limits. Three trail bosses rode in before eleven to ask if the fight was really on and the whole town buzzed with conjecture. Would the challenge be accepted? If so, who would win?
The good ladies of the town clucked their tongues and shook their heads—possibly because the fight would take place where they could not see it. Of course it was for a good cause, but one hardly expected a for-real lady like Miss Freddie to indulge in such things.
By noon the town had divided itself into two camps and the lawmen were forced to stop three separate fights between members of the two parties—the fights being caused by suggestions that either Freddie or Kate would not dare take up the challenge. When he was called to prevent Shad Birnbaum and Sherill, both members of the Town Council, fighting in the street, Dusty figured it was time somebody knew for sure if the challenge had been taken up. With that in mind, he headed for the Fair Lady and asked if he might see Miss Woods.
‘Are you going through with this, Freddie?’ he asked, lifting the poster from her bed after being admitted to her room.
‘Is Miss Gilgore?’ she countered.
‘I haven’t asked her yet.’
‘Tell her that I will be willing to drop the matter—if she makes a public announcement that she wants it that way.’
‘You know damned well that she won’t do that!’ Dusty barked.
‘Then it appears that the challenge is still on.’
Much the same took place at the Buffalo, with Kate almost repeating Freddie’s words. Yet Dusty gained the impression that neither woman felt entirely happy about the fight. However, neither would be first to back down and so it appeared the fight must still be on.
Dusty passed word around that the challenge had been accepted and the fight would definitely take place. To prevent further disturbances, he also warned that anybody making trouble would be slapped in jail for the night. Such was the eagerness to witness the battle that men leaned over backwards to avoid becoming involved in any trouble which might wind up with them in jail and unable to see it. Never could Dusty remember so quiet and peaceful a Saturday afternoon. Yet to him it seemed like the calm before the storm.