"Well if it ain't Racetrack Higgins an' `is sidekick Mushy-boy." A handsome young man with sandy hair and a black eyepatch emerged from the crowd at the racetrack and approached Race and Mush.
"Heya Blink! Where ya been hidin'?" Mush asked as he play-punched at their visitor.
"Been keepin' busy. Keepin' da ladies on their toes. Ya know what I'm sayin?!" he laughed, nudging Mush with his elbow. "I'se been hearin' `bout you'se an' yer fightin' Mushy-boy. Seems like ya could make champ dis year."
"He plans on it. Dontcha?" Race interjected. "I got a lot ridin' on this right hook," he said as he poked at Mush.
"An' jus' look at da two a you! What's this you'se wearin'?" Blink asked, suddenly aware that his old clothes didn't quite match up to Race and Mush's new fashion statements.
"If we're gonna get in da buidness, we gotta do it right," Race stated, chin up in the air.
Blink grabbed at his collar and gasped for air. "Oh! I cain't breathe! `Is head's too big! It's sucking up all da air!" He fell to one knee pretending to choke. "Please Mush pop it!"
Mush laughed and punched Race upside the head. "His skull's too thick! Don't know what can break it!"
Race swatted at Mush. "When J.P. Morgan starts borrowin' money from me, then you'se guys won't be laughin' so hard."
"Still planning and plotting to rule the world I see," spoke a smooth feminine voice from behind Race. Blink's one eye bulged when he saw the gorgeous ebony-haired beauty appear.
"Oh, heya Opie," Race sighed. "Blink, this is me pal Opie. Opie, Blink. You know Mush."
Blink grabbed her hand and slowly brought it up to his mouth, "Glad to meet ya," he paused for a second to make eye contact, then he kissed her hand.
"Oh, the dramatic pause!" Mush giggled uncontrollably at Blink. Race rolled his eyes.
"Please, the name is Ophelia," she corrected. "Nice to meet you too." She nodded oh so properly.
Race caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. He turned for a better look. She was wearing dark green skirt, a white silk blouse, and a matching green vest corseted tightly across her chest. Her dark hair was curled and twisted up into a loose bun. "What are ya all dollied up ova?" he demanded.
"Jus' wanted to see what the races are all about," she answered and looked around the crowds non-chalantly.
"Dontcha have a chaperone er somethin'? Ya shouldn't be out alone at da races!" Race asked. He was shocked to see her out without someone, didn't she know how dangerous these parts of the city are?
She turned sharply, utterly embarrassed about what he said in front of everyone. "I am nearly eighteen years old! I can certainly take care of myself!" she snorted. She threw a flirtatious grin at Blink, then winked and strutted off.
Mush mocked Ophelia as she sauntered off. Blink elbowed him, "She winked at me. I could have me some fun tonight!"
Race just stared after her until she disappeared. What did she think she was doing? A pretty girl like her is bound to get into trouble alone...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jacob sat in the box seats at the races. Around him were many of the most influential people in the United States. One was, of course, Peter Gould, another was New York's senator, and a dozen more, but he didn't recognize names. But from what Peter told him, these men alone owned something like 20% of the nations money.
He had bet on the number eight horse, its name was something funny like Murray's Son. The gentlemen sat around smoking and drinking, and talking about their latest interests, the railroads mostly. None of this interested Jacob, which could be why he was broke more often than not. As he puffed on his cigar and pretended to be interested in some fire that had vanquished this man's factory, a beautiful young woman pushed her way through the crowd. Jacob sat forward, not even trying to diguise his interest. The man he was talking to just grunted, "She's a common girl."
"Not common at all," Jacob whispered. He motioned to a nearby servant. "Find out who that girl is. Now."
"Heya Blink! Where ya been hidin'?" Mush asked as he play-punched at their visitor.
"Been keepin' busy. Keepin' da ladies on their toes. Ya know what I'm sayin?!" he laughed, nudging Mush with his elbow. "I'se been hearin' `bout you'se an' yer fightin' Mushy-boy. Seems like ya could make champ dis year."
"He plans on it. Dontcha?" Race interjected. "I got a lot ridin' on this right hook," he said as he poked at Mush.
"An' jus' look at da two a you! What's this you'se wearin'?" Blink asked, suddenly aware that his old clothes didn't quite match up to Race and Mush's new fashion statements.
"If we're gonna get in da buidness, we gotta do it right," Race stated, chin up in the air.
Blink grabbed at his collar and gasped for air. "Oh! I cain't breathe! `Is head's too big! It's sucking up all da air!" He fell to one knee pretending to choke. "Please Mush pop it!"
Mush laughed and punched Race upside the head. "His skull's too thick! Don't know what can break it!"
Race swatted at Mush. "When J.P. Morgan starts borrowin' money from me, then you'se guys won't be laughin' so hard."
"Still planning and plotting to rule the world I see," spoke a smooth feminine voice from behind Race. Blink's one eye bulged when he saw the gorgeous ebony-haired beauty appear.
"Oh, heya Opie," Race sighed. "Blink, this is me pal Opie. Opie, Blink. You know Mush."
Blink grabbed her hand and slowly brought it up to his mouth, "Glad to meet ya," he paused for a second to make eye contact, then he kissed her hand.
"Oh, the dramatic pause!" Mush giggled uncontrollably at Blink. Race rolled his eyes.
"Please, the name is Ophelia," she corrected. "Nice to meet you too." She nodded oh so properly.
Race caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. He turned for a better look. She was wearing dark green skirt, a white silk blouse, and a matching green vest corseted tightly across her chest. Her dark hair was curled and twisted up into a loose bun. "What are ya all dollied up ova?" he demanded.
"Jus' wanted to see what the races are all about," she answered and looked around the crowds non-chalantly.
"Dontcha have a chaperone er somethin'? Ya shouldn't be out alone at da races!" Race asked. He was shocked to see her out without someone, didn't she know how dangerous these parts of the city are?
She turned sharply, utterly embarrassed about what he said in front of everyone. "I am nearly eighteen years old! I can certainly take care of myself!" she snorted. She threw a flirtatious grin at Blink, then winked and strutted off.
Mush mocked Ophelia as she sauntered off. Blink elbowed him, "She winked at me. I could have me some fun tonight!"
Race just stared after her until she disappeared. What did she think she was doing? A pretty girl like her is bound to get into trouble alone...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jacob sat in the box seats at the races. Around him were many of the most influential people in the United States. One was, of course, Peter Gould, another was New York's senator, and a dozen more, but he didn't recognize names. But from what Peter told him, these men alone owned something like 20% of the nations money.
He had bet on the number eight horse, its name was something funny like Murray's Son. The gentlemen sat around smoking and drinking, and talking about their latest interests, the railroads mostly. None of this interested Jacob, which could be why he was broke more often than not. As he puffed on his cigar and pretended to be interested in some fire that had vanquished this man's factory, a beautiful young woman pushed her way through the crowd. Jacob sat forward, not even trying to diguise his interest. The man he was talking to just grunted, "She's a common girl."
"Not common at all," Jacob whispered. He motioned to a nearby servant. "Find out who that girl is. Now."