CHAPTER SEVEN
Miss Sally’s Dog

August 3, 1900

Accompanying Sally on her journeys around Nome was my favorite part of the day. Since she picked up and delivered mail, she knew everyone. She collected pennies as payment and I was petted and fed scraps. No longer did the shopkeepers see me as a stray. Now I was Miss Sally’s dog.

A long line of people stood in front of the post office, waiting to post or pick up mail. Sally skirted around the men and ducked into the small building. She handed Mr. O’Malley the letters Mama had typed last night. “Each is sealed, addressed, and has a two-cent stamp, sir,” she told him.

“Thank you, Miss Sally. I have another stack to fill your bag. Remind everyone that the steamship Lucky Lady will be arriving in about four days and then departing the next day for Seattle. The mail to the mainland will go with it.”

“I will, sir.” Sally grabbed the bulging satchel and we walked to the Dexter Hotel.

“Good day, Mr. Wyatt Earp.” Sally shook hands with a slightly rotund, very tall man who stood outside.

“Good day, Miss Sally.” He patted my head. “And good day to your dog. Any mail for me?”

She handed him three envelopes and he gave her several coins. “A serious question, Mr. Earp. If you were mining along the Snake River, what equipment would you take?”

“A warm quilt and a deck of faro cards,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye.

“I’ll remember the quilt. Thank you, sir.” She bid him farewell, and we left the Dexter Hotel.

A ragtag group of boys strolling down the muddy street stopped to toss stones at me. I yelped and darted under a wagon bed. “Look at the big coward run!” one shouted. “What a scaredy-cat!”

Sally glared at him. “You’re the scaredy-cat, Johnny Tucker! Otherwise you wouldn’t hang back and throw stones. You’d come right over so I could sock you in the nose.”

Putting his fists on his hips, Johnny shot Sally a smug look. “I jest might.”

Just then Mr. Earp stepped out onto the street to survey the situation, and the boys left, grumbling. I crawled from under the wagon, tail tucked. I wished I had barked and frightened them off myself, but once again I had run.

“Ignore their meanness, Murphy,” Mr. Earp said as he gave me a pat. “I have learned that a showdown is a last resort.”

Sally and I continued on our way to the Horseshoe Saloon. “Good morning, Miss Althea,” Sally said as we entered the main room, which was dark even though it was midday. A woman with rouged cheeks sat at a round wooden table, eating breakfast. She—and her bacon—smelled delicious.

“Good morning, Sally, and good morning to you, you handsome boy.” Cupping my head, she kissed me over and over until I squirmed.

Sally handed her several letters. Miss Althea gave her some coins and fed me a strip of bacon.

“Miss Althea, if you were mining on the Snake, what equipment would you take?” Sally asked.

Miss Althea chewed a bite of egg. The she dabbed her lips with a linen napkin and said, “I would take mosquito netting and a bottle of whiskey.”

“I will surely add the netting to my list,” Sally said. Waving goodbye, she led me back into the daylight.

“The money is adding up, Murphy.” Sally patted her pocket. “Soon we will be ready to file a claim.”

Our next stop was a house on the edge of town. The Hughes brothers sat in front of their cabin, smoking their pipes and cleaning their rifles. The two brothers looked just alike, with shaggy beards and long hair, which they said kept away the mosquitoes. The only difference between them was that one brother spoke; the other just grunted. “Good day, Miss Sally,” the talkative brother said.

“Hello, Mr. Hughes,” Sally said. “I have some mail for you.”

“Thank you, Miss Sally.” He took the stack. “My brother and I won’t need you to deliver our mail much longer. We’ve decided to leave Nome.”

“But why, sir?” Sally asked.

“Winter in Nome is close to purgatory. Do you know anyone who might be interested in purchasing our cabin?”

Sally’s eyes brightened. “Oh, yes! Mama and I need a new abode before winter comes. How much will your fine cabin cost?”

“To you and your lovely mother I would sell it for twenty dollars. We’ll be leaving in September.”

“I will tell Mama,” she said. “Thank you, sirs.” Sally waved goodbye, and we left.

“Mama will be so excited!” Sally exclaimed as we trotted back to town. I could feel her joy in the drum of her boots on the wooden walkway.

A cat darted from a doorway. I gave chase, but when it turned and hissed, I stopped in my tracks and it skittered off. I told myself the cats were necessary to catch the rats—and that I was not afraid.

When we reached Fox & Gibson, Sally burst through the door. “Mama! Wait until you hear my news!”

Mama was hunched over a ledger, writing. She didn’t look up even when Sally started chattering like a gull.

“The Hughes brothers are selling their cabin for twenty dollars. They’re leaving in September. It has a stove, and a chimney, and is made of sturdy logs. See-ya-yuk can show me how to chink between the logs and hang skins for warmth—”

“Hush, Sally,” Mama cut in, her voice flat. She paused, her pen hovering over the ledger. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught the eye of Mr. Fox, who was frowning at us.

“Is there a problem, Mrs. Dawson?” he asked, his words clipped. I flattened myself on the floor behind the counter. Mr. Fox did not like me in the shop. “This is a respectable business, not a kennel,” he had told Sally.

“No problem, Mr. Fox!” Mama sounded cheery now. Then she turned back to Sally. “I am busy and you have filing to do, young lady.”

Sally’s smile faded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Mama stood and nodded toward the door. “Let’s put Murphy outside.”

“Yes, ma’am. Come on, Murphy.” I followed Sally and Mama out to the front stoop, my head hanging.

“I heard what you said about the Hughes brothers’ cabin,” Mama said, lowering her voice. “But we have made no decision about staying the winter. Your grandfather has written that he is coming to Nome on business. We will discuss the matter with him when he arrives.”

“I don’t need to discuss the matter!” Sally cried out. “I have made a decision! I won’t return to Grandmama’s house and her harsh rules. Nome is my home now. Winter will be hard, but the Hughes cabin is ten steps from town.”

Mama rubbed the bridge of her nose. Men passed by, tipping their hats, and she smiled politely. I wagged my tail, hoping to make her feel better, but it was as if she didn’t see me.

“We need more than a cabin, Sally,” she finally said. “We need wood and supplies to last from October when the sea freezes until April when it thaws.”

“I have saved money” Sally reached into the pocket of her pinafore and pulled out her pennies. “And when I find gold, we will have enough—”

“Stop speaking of gold!” Taking Sally by the shoulders, Mama gave her a good shake. “Haven’t you learned anything from the miners? Few strike it rich. I see those who have tried come in to Fox & Gibson, penniless and broken. They don’t have enough coins for fare back to Seattle.”

“But there are those who do find gold,” Sally protested.

“The large companies that employ twenty men. You are a child, Sally. Wipe that foolish dream from your head and come in and do your work before Mr. Fox fires us both.” Mama gave Sally another shake. Then, turning, she strode back into the office with a swish of her skirts.

For a moment, Sally was silent. Then she stroked my ears. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Murphy. And I am sorry you have to stay out here, but I won’t be long.”

I whined, trying to tell Sally that it would be okay, and that I was sad for her. Mama had never yelled before, and never had I seen her shake Sally.

“I’m sorry that Mama isn’t excited about the cabin.” Sighing, she leaned over and rested her head on top of mine. “But what I am really sorry about is that every day the Mama I love grows more and more like the Grandmama I hope never to see again.”