Madame Dared still had not made good her promise of remuneration.
“Hey, Madam,” Calamity said, turning her attention to the saloonkeeper once more. “How’s about the money? I’d hate like hell to have to come in tomorrow night and ask for it again.”
“I believe you would come again tomorrow,” said Madam Darcel. “Just as I now believe you are Calamity Jane.”
“I never doubted that for a teensey minute,” grinned Calamity and held out her right hand. “Fifty dollars, I’ll take it in tens.”
With a broad smile, Madam Darcel counted off fifty dollars and handed it to Calamity. “I’m almost tempted not to pay. Your fight was a good attraction. But I don’t believe the police would go for two riots in a week at my place.”
“I’ll mind that, if I come tonight. Anyways, you couldn’t get another gal as tough as that skinny kid. See you up the trail, Madam.”
Crossing the floor. Calamity made straight for where Jacqueline had been helped to her feet by the other girls. Seeing her opponent approaching, Jacqueline shook the other girls’ hands from her and prepared to defend herself. St. Andre also expected trouble and started to move forward. A huge hand closed on his arm and held him back despite the fact that the detective was no weakling himself.
“Don’t bother, friend,” said Killem’s gentle voice. “Calain’s not fixing to cause fuss.”
“Hey there, easy,” Calamity stated, holding her hands hip high and spread with open palms towards Jacqueline in the Indian peace sign. “We raised enough lumps on each other for one night. How’d you feel, sk—gal. Which same, I reckon you feel just about as sick and sore as I do.”
“I’m all right.”
“Yeah, I tell lies too,” grinned Calamity and counted out fifty dollars.
“What’s that for?” Jacqueline asked, staring at the money.
“Your cut. I sure as hell couldn’t have won it without you.”
“But—but—.”
Letting out a mock serious sigh, Calamity said, “Don’t tell me I’ve got to lick you again afore you’ll take it.”
“Are you serious?” gasped Jacqueline.
“I’m allus serious where money’s concerned, sk—gal.”
Wondering what kind of girl she had met, Jacqueline accepted the money. She tried to express her thanks, but Calamity laughed them off. At that moment Madam Darcel arrived and gave her girls orders to take Jacqueline to their quarters so a doctor could examine her injuries.
“And you, Calamity, he’ll examine you also,” the saloonkeeper went on.
“Shucks no. I’ve broken nothing,” Calamity scoffed. “I’ll just rub on some of my soothing syrup and I’ll be fit as frog’s hair comes morning.” Then, knowing something of saloonkeepers’ ways when dealing with their employees, she decided to hand out a warning. “I shared the money with sk—Jacqueline here. It’s for her, Madam, understand?”
Madam Darcel understood all too well. Strangely she felt no resentment at Calamity’s words or what they implied, but took them as the girl meant, as an interest in seeing Jacqueline received fair dealing.
“You’d best be, getting home, Calam,” Killem remarked. “Don’t want you all stove up with a chill comes morning.”
“Or me,” agreed Calamity, then studied her employer closely. “Hey, how come you aren’t wet?”
“When the fuss started, I got out and yelled for help.”
“Spoilsport!” sniffed Calamity.
“Anyways, I saved your coat, hat and bandana from a wetting.”
“Thanks too much! Why didn’t you leave them and save me?”
“Shucks, gal, I saw you enjoying yourself with that Jacqueline gal and didn’t want to bill in.”
“One of these days, Dobe Killem,” Calamity began, “I’m going to tell everybody your name’s—well what we both know it is.”
Killem suffered under the given name of Cecil, a fact Calamity alone of his outfit knew. When her boss grew obstreperous, she used the knowledge to bring him back into line.
“And what
“Hey, Madam,” Calamity said, turning her attention to the saloonkeeper once more. “How’s about the money? I’d hate like hell to have to come in tomorrow night and ask for it again.”
“I believe you would come again tomorrow,” said Madam Darcel. “Just as I now believe you are Calamity Jane.”
“I never doubted that for a teensey minute,” grinned Calamity and held out her right hand. “Fifty dollars, I’ll take it in tens.”
With a broad smile, Madam Darcel counted off fifty dollars and handed it to Calamity. “I’m almost tempted not to pay. Your fight was a good attraction. But I don’t believe the police would go for two riots in a week at my place.”
“I’ll mind that, if I come tonight. Anyways, you couldn’t get another gal as tough as that skinny kid. See you up the trail, Madam.”
Crossing the floor. Calamity made straight for where Jacqueline had been helped to her feet by the other girls. Seeing her opponent approaching, Jacqueline shook the other girls’ hands from her and prepared to defend herself. St. Andre also expected trouble and started to move forward. A huge hand closed on his arm and held him back despite the fact that the detective was no weakling himself.
“Don’t bother, friend,” said Killem’s gentle voice. “Calain’s not fixing to cause fuss.”
“Hey there, easy,” Calamity stated, holding her hands hip high and spread with open palms towards Jacqueline in the Indian peace sign. “We raised enough lumps on each other for one night. How’d you feel, sk—gal. Which same, I reckon you feel just about as sick and sore as I do.”
“I’m all right.”
“Yeah, I tell lies too,” grinned Calamity and counted out fifty dollars.
“What’s that for?” Jacqueline asked, staring at the money.
“Your cut. I sure as hell couldn’t have won it without you.”
“But—but—.”
Letting out a mock serious sigh, Calamity said, “Don’t tell me I’ve got to lick you again afore you’ll take it.”
“Are you serious?” gasped Jacqueline.
“I’m allus serious where money’s concerned, sk—gal.”
Wondering what kind of girl she had met, Jacqueline accepted the money. She tried to express her thanks, but Calamity laughed them off. At that moment Madam Darcel arrived and gave her girls orders to take Jacqueline to their quarters so a doctor could examine her injuries.
“And you, Calamity, he’ll examine you also,” the saloonkeeper went on.
“Shucks no. I’ve broken nothing,” Calamity scoffed. “I’ll just rub on some of my soothing syrup and I’ll be fit as frog’s hair comes morning.” Then, knowing something of saloonkeepers’ ways when dealing with their employees, she decided to hand out a warning. “I shared the money with sk—Jacqueline here. It’s for her, Madam, understand?”
Madam Darcel understood all too well. Strangely she felt no resentment at Calamity’s words or what they implied, but took them as the girl meant, as an interest in seeing Jacqueline received fair dealing.
“You’d best be, getting home, Calam,” Killem remarked. “Don’t want you all stove up with a chill comes morning.”
“Or me,” agreed Calamity, then studied her employer closely. “Hey, how come you aren’t wet?”
“When the fuss started, I got out and yelled for help.”
“Spoilsport!” sniffed Calamity.
“Anyways, I saved your coat, hat and bandana from a wetting.”
“Thanks too much! Why didn’t you leave them and save me?”
“Shucks, gal, I saw you enjoying yourself with that Jacqueline gal and didn’t want to bill in.”
“One of these days, Dobe Killem,” Calamity began, “I’m going to tell everybody your name’s—well what we both know it is.”
Killem suffered under the given name of Cecil, a fact Calamity alone of his outfit knew. When her boss grew obstreperous, she used the knowledge to bring him back into line.
“And what
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