Hannibal Heyes slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at the peaceful faces of Jed and Billy asleep in the large double bed beside him. Hearing a tap on the door he realised that must have been what had disturbed the best night's sleep he'd had in a very long time.
"It's time you boys were up," called Maisie. "Mister O'Sullivan will be leaving shortly and he doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"We'll be right there, ma'am." Han roughly shook his companions.
While Billy's feet quickly touched the floor, Jed blinked sleepily at the ceiling and yawned. "Ain't this the life?" he mused lazily, enjoying the comfort of a real mattress and feather pillows.
"A life that won't last long if you keep Mister O'Sullivan waiting, so c'mon, get dressed."
Minutes later, slightly dishevelled and still wiping sleep from their eyes, the three stumbled through the kitchen door.
"Tuck in your shirts and sit down." Maisie Conlon instructed, grabbing three waiting plates and spooning a pile of scrambled eggs onto each. She pushed forward a basket of biscuits. "Better eat your fill. I can't say whether you'll get anything 'til suppertime."
All three were a good way through their breakfasts when Silky walked in.
Billy and Jed immediately jumped to their feet. "Good mornin', Mister O'Sullivan," they intoned.
Hoping for an explanation for this behaviour Silky looked questioningly at Han, only to receive an equally puzzled look in return.
"Fix this, will you Maisie?" Silky waved a brightly coloured piece of silk. "I just can't get the doggone thing right this mornin'."
"Every morning, you mean," laughed Maisie as she expertly arranged the red paisley cravat. Taking a step back she admired his matching brocade waistcoat. "I must say you're looking very dapper today. I don't recall you saying you had a meeting."
"That's because, I don't," replied Silky, "but I do have the important task of introducing these three lads to the world of saloon managing. Time we left, boys."
The moment their benefactor turned on his heel and headed down the hallway, the three immediately dropped their forks and dived for the pile of boots by the back door. After hurriedly sorting out which pair belong to whom, they hopped along the hall pulling them on, catching up with Silky just as he opened the front door and stepped smartly down the path.
"What was all that back there?" Han murmured to his cousin as they trailed in Silky's wake along the tree-lined street. "You two, leaping to your feet like you was in the army." The only time Han could remember ever having to do something similar was if the supervisor at the Home for Waywards walked into a room.
"There'd be big trouble from Mister Flanagan if we didn't," replied Jed.
"Well, Mister O'Sullivan don't expect it."
"You sure?" Jed didn't want to provoke any trouble. Over the last few months repercussions for rule breaking had been swift and often painful.
"I'm sure."
"Okay, I'll tell Billy we don't have to worry about that no more." Jed's eyes sparkled eagerly. "Are we really goin' to a saloon?"
"Yep. Mister O'Sullivan owns one."
Unlike his cousin, Han failed to be impressed at the idea of going into a saloon. During his search for Jed he had visited at least one in every town he'd passed through asking questions about Jed's whereabouts.
"Wait 'til I tell Billy!" exclaimed Jed, catching up with his friend to share the news.
Upon hearing the young boys' excited voices Silky glanced back over his shoulder and Han was sure he caught a glimpse of a smile cross his face. It was the first time he had seen this man with anything other than a scowl.
They walked at a good pace for several blocks, but by the time Silky eventually stopped at a junction with a busy street Han noticed Jed appeared to be struggling with his breathing again.
"Mister O'Sullivan, sir," he called, tilting his head toward Jed, "can we stop for a minute?"
Silky's frown returned. "Your ribs givin' you trouble, young feller?"
Jed prised his arms away from where they cradled his torso and attempted to stand up straight. "I'm okay."
"So say you, but I think we'll get you checked over by the doc once we reach the Slipper. It's not far now."
Han looked up and down the street in front of them. There were people everywhere. Some were on foot, but there were plenty on horseback too. Most drove buckboards heavily loaded with crates and barrels and pulled by mules. Someone was even trying to manoeuvre a large covered wagon hauled by a team of oxen through the middle of it all.
"Do we have to cross here?" he asked, fearing mainly for Jed's safety. In his current state he may not be quick enough in getting out of the way of hooves or large iron-rimmed wheels.
"Here's as good as anywhere," said Silky, and without appearing to look he stepped straight into the street. Followed closely by his three charges he somehow managed to blaze a trail through the chaos, avoiding every pile of steaming manure and reaching the other side a little dusty but otherwise unscathed.
Progressing down the boardwalk they passed several saloons and a couple of dance halls before stopping outside an impressive looking building with tall stone archways along its front and wooden posts supporting a large balcony over the boardwalk. To the right of two wooden ticket kiosks were emblazoned the words Tivoli Beer Hall, and on the left, Lang and Hance Billiards and Ten Pins.
Now Han was impressed. "Is this yours, Mister O'Sullivan?"
"No," Silky replied, "but that's not to say it won't be one day. This, my lad, is the Palace Theatre. It opened a few months ago."
"Excuse me for saying so, sir, but if your saloon is nearby don't this beer hall take a lot of your trade?"
Silky smiled to himself. JT had sure picked a sharp one this time. If Hannibal had a good head for making money, and Silky's instincts told him that was indeed possible, he could turn out to be a real asset to the business. It was also not inconceivable that he might run some kind of enterprise of his own one day.
Silky didn't get to answer Han's question because all of a sudden there was a shriek and they all turned to see a horse rearing and a boy laying face down in the middle of the street. Without showing any concern Silky turned to walk away.
"Shouldn't we help?" said Jed.
"No."
"But—"
"Watch," Silky instructed.
While men steered their mounts or wagons around the prone figure, the rider of the high-spirited horse dismounted and knelt down to check on him. A group of youngsters gathered around too, jostling one another to get a better look and accusing the man of killing their friend. Minutes later the boy appeared to regain his senses, and reassured he was not badly injured the man remounted and rode off.
Jed blew out his cheeks. "That was lucky. I thought he was a goner."
"Tell me what you saw, Hannibal," said Silky.
"The kid in the plaid breeches lifted the rider's wallet," Han replied. "The idea's good, but a mite dangerous for such a small take."
"It's a risk alright," agreed Silky, "but if more people happen to stop, it can turn out to be very profitable. This street is full of pick pockets so if any of you are running an errand for me, stay alert, y' hear?"
After walking for another minute or two they again came to a halt. "Here we are," Silky announced, proudly extending both arms toward the Velvet Slipper Saloon, a narrow, red-painted building with a high false front, alleyways on both sides, and windows of coloured patterned glass.
Despite it being only a little after nine in the morning the doors were already wide open and voices could be heard emanating from within. A sign on the wall outside explained why. It read:
Open Early til Late
Free Breakfast and Lunch Counter
Daily Hot Menu only 20¢
Upon entering, a swarthy, dark-haired man with a downturned black moustache looked up from the glass he was polishing.
"Buenos dias, Meester Seelkee." Frowning, he nodded toward the boys. "They weeth you, señor?"
"They are. Let's call them... apprentices." Silky pointed toward each one by way of introduction. "Hannibal, Kid, Billy, meet Alonzo Valdez — best barkeep in The Row."
Alonzo smiled revealing a couple of gold teeth.
"So, boys, whaddya think?" Silky asked, with an expansive gesture.
The saloon looked much larger on the inside than it appeared from the street. Although it was daylight outside the interior was dark so lighted kerosene lamps hung by chains from the tobacco-stained ceiling, enabling the early patrons to see the food on the breakfast counter or their cards and money on the gaming tables. A highly polished brass foot rail ran along the base of a long mahogany bar which took up almost the length of one wall. Behind the bar, bottles of liquor, mostly whiskey with intriguing names such as Forty Rods, Red Dynamite, Thistle Dew and Old Crow, were lined up in front of a huge mirror above which were several paintings of half-naked women. To the rear of the room were two further doors separated by a staircase to the floor above.
Han gave the interior an appreciative glance before mumbling what he hoped were appropriate words of admiration. Jed and Billy just stared at the paintings.
"We'll be in the office." Silky announced to Alonzo.
"You wan' I breeng coffee?" Alonzo enquired.
"Yes, and some soda pop. But send Hoyt through with it. I want him to run an errand."
"Si, señor."
The office was far from spacious, made to feel all the smaller by a large leather-topped desk piled with ledgers and strewn messily with pieces of paper. A filing cabinet containing six rows of eight drawers dominated one wall and two wooden chairs occupied most of the remaining floor space.
Silky hung his hat and coat on the back of the door. He had only just taken his seat in a high-backed leather chair behind the desk when a lanky young lad of about eighteen entered bearing a tray containing a mug filled with a strong aromatic brew and three glasses of ginger beer.
"Here's yer coffee, Mister O'Sullivan." The lad placed the tray on the desk while casting a curious eye over the three strangers.
"Good. Now, Hoyt, I want you to run over to Doc Coleman's place. Tell him I need him here as soon as he's able. If he's not home, try Mamie's. He could be there checkin' her girls over."
"Yessir." Hoyt took to his heels and ran.
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
Doctor Augustus Coleman was a kind, hoary, elderly gent whose job it was to look after anyone associated with the various businesses in The Row together with their many customers.
Having raised his hat to Alonzo as he walked by, he let himself into the office.
"I got your message, Silky. You sick?"
"Gus! Come in, take a seat. I need you to take a look at these young fellers." Silky indicated the two blond boys sitting on the floor attempting to flick playing cards into Han's upturned hat. "Kid. Billy. Get y'selves over here and let the doc take a look at those ribs."
Doc Coleman's eyebrows almost met his hairline when the boys pulled up their shirts. "Well, I can see why you felt the need to send for me."
Turning Billy around he looked at the variety of colours covering his torso, and estimating many of them to be almost a month old asked, "Any of these still hurt ya, son?"
Billy shook his head.
"You got pain anywhere else? Any blood in your piss?"
Another shake of the head.
The doctor turned to Jed. "Alright, let's take a look at you, uh... what's your name again?"
"Kid," stated Jed, as he too turned on the spot.
"And how did you get these bruises, Kid?"
"Boxing."
Han knew his cousin would not reveal he'd been beaten nor complain about the discomfort he was in so he spoke up. "He didn't get them all in a boxing ring, Doc. He was beaten up by the manager 'cause he lost a fight, and now he can't breathe right."
"I see." Doc Coleman studied the large purple patch on the side of Jed's face. "Can you see outta that eye?"
"Yes, sir."
"Open your mouth for me."
Jed duly obliged.
"Any of your teeth loose?"
"Uh-uh."
Probing around the large, dark red marks on the wiry torso the doctor was somewhat surprised when Jed didn't make a sound, neither did he feel him flinch at the touch.
"How 'bout you, Billy? You having trouble breathing too?"
"No, sir."
Doc Coleman opened his bag and took out a hollow wooden tube with one end larger than the other. He placed one end against Billy's chest and dipped his head to the other. "Take a deep breath," he instructed, listening intently.
Moving on to Jed he gave the same instruction. Jed tried, but didn't get very far.
"Again."
The result was the same.
"Can't hear any fluid, which is good. Billy appears to be on the mend, but this young feller," the doc placed a caring hand on Jed's shoulder, "has got hisself a couple of busted ribs."
"Can you do anything for him?" asked Silky.
The doctor shook his head regretfully. "Not really. I don't hold with dosing young 'uns with laudanum and I'm all out of willow bark right now. Best I can do is bind him up. That'll restrict his movement and help with the pain, but what he really needs is rest. At least a week, I'd say. In the meantime, watch he don't run a fever or develop a cough. If he does, come get me."
"Maisie will watch him," said Silky. "It'll give her somebody to fuss over — other than me."
With a chuckle Doc Coleman plucked a large roll of bandage from his bag and set about stabilising Jed's ribcage. Han regarded his cousin with what could only be described as awe. Two broken ribs! How was he managing to conceal the pain he must be in?
Eventually he pulled his gaze away from Jed and considered their new boss, wondering whether he would throw them out now that they couldn't all work for him straight away. So trusting had he been of JT's assurances that they would have a home here in Denver, it had never occurred to him, until now, that Mister O'Sullivan might not want them. He cursed inwardly for not using the time on the train to come up with a contingency plan and vowed it was something Hannibal Heyes would never again neglect to do.
When the doctor's worn, black leather bag finally snapped shut Han fumbled in his pocket for the few silver dollars that remained there. "How much do I owe you, doc?" he asked, then in answer to the questioning looks from the two older men, he declared, "It's right I should pay. He's my kin."
The doctor shook his head. "Put your money away, son. Silky's a friend. I'm happy to do him a favour." He grasped the door knob before turning to add with a wry smile, "Besides, I spend most of my time tending to whores or drunks, and young Kid here don't fit into either of those categories. The only time I get to see a person his age is when some sneak thief's grift goes bad and I'm called upon to confirm his demise." He tipped his hat. "Be seein' ya."