Lucky Dawson rolled over in the bed and looked at the bright April sunshine streaming in his window. From the angle of the light he knew that it was a little after noon, his usual rise and shine time. He stretched and then sat up on the edge of the bed. He pulled on his trousers and walked to the window to look out on the busy street. He didn't see any snow on the street but he knew it was still thick on the mountains around the town. He mused, "This is a much better winter than last year in the gold camps at Bannack. That was one cold, miserable winter. I couldn't find any prospectors rich enough to get me out of that tent and I almost starved a couple of times. There were a couple of blizzards this winter that would have been the death of me. I wonder how many of the miners living in tents died out there this winter."
This new year of 1886 found him in the Grand Central Hotel in Helena. It was much warmer in a hotel room and the poker games were much more lucrative. Here in town he ran across not only rich prospectors but railroad tycoons, ranch owners and store owners. This past weekend had netted him enough winnings to pay for the next month in the hotel and he still had his stake he had ridden in with, plus the money from selling the mining claims over by Virginia City. Yes, life was good but the nagging thought kept returning. He needed to do something to ensure that he could continue this good life. He could see the handwriting on the wall and it said that making a living by gambling was going to come to a close. Maybe not next week but it would end.
Lucky turned from the window and went to the wash basin to start his morning resolutions. With his six foot two inch frame, he had to stoop a little to see into the mirror hanging on the wall. He saw a rugged face with a bushy brown mustache staring back from brown eyes under a thatch of unruly brown hair. He didn't think the face was particularly handsome but some women considered it easy to look at. Those eyes had seen a lot of country since he left home as a boy of fourteen. In the last twenty-one years, he had been a cowboy, a freighter and a stage coach driver, as well as any other legal work he could find to stay alive, but he was now a professional gambler, which could be coming to an end. His slim muscular body had one bullet scar and two knife scars. Life had not always been easy but he could say that he lived it his way and not apologize to anyone for any of it.
When he was dressed, he checked his guns before he put the derringer in his watch pocket and belted on his Colt. Then he headed out of his room and down to the hotel dining room. He liked arriving at this time because he would miss most of the lunch crowd and be able to enjoy a leisurely meal, observing the others in the dining room. The waiter seated him at his usual table next to the window and Lucky gave him his order.
He sat thinking more about what else he could do. Helena was growing and with the railroads coming in, culture would soon come. Along with culture would come pressure to move the gambling to the rougher side of town. He didn't mind that because he could handle himself with fists or guns but the odds would be stacked against him. The pots would grow smaller unless he wanted to risk more of his personal safety. He had won enough small pots all winter to pay for all of his creature comforts and the hotel but moving to the rougher side of town would make it tougher to keep winning like that. He made it a point not to get into the big games with the movers and shakers of the town. He didn't want the reputation of taking money from them. Some of those movers and shakers didn't like to lose and they made terrible enemies. He had been sitting in on the games that let him win a little and lose a little. He was a better poker player than 95% of the players he sat in with but they all thought he just lived up to his nickname of Lucky.
A commotion in the lobby interrupted his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a beautiful, very shapely, red-headed woman crossing the lobby leading a bevy of other young women. They all appeared to be in their mid-twenties and full of life. They were loudly arguing about the primary which had just been held. The red-head said, "How can we keep getting scoundrels like that as our only choice to vote for? There was something fishy about the way the crook who won the primary got his victory, too. Who picks these scalawags anyway and then decides who the top reprobate is?"
Lucky saw that one gentleman sitting at a table with friends was getting agitated. While quietly talking to his friends, his face grew darker with rage at each comment. Finally, he could stand it no longer, standing up and stomping toward the young women. He loudly proclaimed, "I'm sorry, ladies but you don't know what you are talking about. These men are not scoundrels but some of the most outstanding men of our fair city. What are you ladies even bothering your pretty heads with this for anyway? You don't have the right to vote."
It didn't take a prophet to see that the gentleman was headed for serious trouble. His words were the wrong thing to say. The redhead turned a bright red and Lucky could see the anger popping in her green eyes from clear across the room. She angrily said, "You, Sir, must be one of those miscreants. We were having a private conversation and don't wish to hear your vile opinion."
The man reacted, "Who are you calling a miscreant? Do you know who I am?"
The red-head fired back, "Obviously, a cad who insults women. Your opinion sounds just like the scoundrel who won the primary. Are you that scoundrel or did you buy the primary for him? What will his election cost the rest of us Montana taxpayers?"
Lucky saw that things were going to escalate quickly, so he swiftly walked over close to the man. The man said, "That's why women don't have the vote. You just don't understand what's good for Montana and you should be at home cleaning up your man's meal."
The red-head slapped him. When the man drew back his hand to slap the red-head, Lucky grabbed the hand. The man whirled to punch him but Lucky simply sidestepped the blow. The man stumbled forward and came back at him again. Lucky sidestepped again but the man tripped over Lucky's foot. He fell to the floor with a crash. One of his friends stepped up to help him to his feet.
The friend said, "Do you know who this is that you knocked down?"
"I have no idea who this ruffian is. I simply stopped him from delivering a blow to this young lady. If I had knocked him down, he would be down for the count. I can't help if he's as clumsy as he is rude," Lucky said.
The friend said, "This is Long John Krogstad. He's the one who's pushing J. J. Hill's railroad through from Great Falls. You've made a bad enemy."
"He should learn that the women around here are not track hands and he can't control their opinions. He definitely can't slap them around like a track hand. He's lucky that he didn't find himself facing a gun."
Long John snarled, "I suppose you're from one of the opposing candidates' teams. What are you trying to do? Cause trouble for Dick Louden?"
"No, Sir, I have nothing to do with any of the candidates in the primary. I voted for all of them. I started to vote again but they were only paying five dollars this time and if I sell my vote, it's worth at least ten."
This brought a roar of laughter from everyone in the room and even most of those in the lobby. Long John and his friends' faces turned dark red with anger and embarrassment. Lucky knew that the friend was right, he had made a bad enemy but he wasn't about to let the red-head suffer from a ruffian. Long John and his friends pushed past Lucky and stormed out. One of the friends dropped some coins on the table to pay for their meal and then followed. Lucky turned back to the red-head, flashed her a grin and then started back to his table.
The red-head said, "Wait, I haven't thanked you properly."
"Your smile was thanks enough for me."
"Did you really vote for all the candidates?"
"No, I saw an article in the Butte Daily Miner saying the primaries were a screaming farce and they should be investigated. I've seen the vote buying before and it just popped out. Seems like it touched a nerve."
One of the other women said, "Jennifer, why don't you introduce us to your friend?"
The red-head turned to him and said, "I'm afraid I don't even know your name
."
He stepped forward and held out his hand as he said, "I'm Lucky Dawson, at your service."
"I'm Jennifer Reynolds. These are my friends…" she said as she introduced the other young women.
Recognizing her name as one of the wealthier families here in Helena; he knew she was out of his league. Still he could be pleasant to her and enjoy her company for awhile. They exchanged pleasant conversation until a waiter brought his order and then he excused himself to go eat. He went back to his habit of studying the people in the room and saw that several were taking more interest in him than usual. The young women kept glancing his way and as they quietly talked, they would burst into giggles. Lucky saw out of the corner of his eye that Jennifer seemed to be the one causing the giggles because after each giggle outburst, she would turn bright red. Lucky kept his grin to himself.
He finished his meal at the same time the young women finished. They all got up together and started to the door. Jennifer asked him, "Mr. Dawson, do you think women should have the vote?"
"Why, yes ma'am. I think they should be able to earn a little extra money the same as a man. Anyone as pretty as this covey of young quails should be able to get at least $15 for every vote. They'd just naturally attract miners and cowboys to the voting booths."
The young women giggled and Jennifer said, "You joke a lot, don't you?"
"Guilty as charged. It helps get you out of trouble."
"Are you in trouble now?"
"With such beautiful company, I'm bound to get into trouble. I bid you beautiful ladies good day."
The hotel desk clerk handed him his two daily newspapers as soon as he approached the desk. One, the Butte Daily Miner kept him informed on the local news and the other a paper from New York told him of the world affairs. The Butte paper usually arrived only a day after it was printed but the one from New York could be a week or more old. He took the papers to his usual chair in the corner. He liked it because it was comfortable and sort of out of the way but still close enough that he could hear and observe those who came and went in the hotel. He had been surprised at how much information he picked up just sitting here. People from all over the state came through the hotel and scraps of conversation helped fill in stories from the newspaper. Some of the conversations gave him information that never made it to the paper. One topic that kept coming up was statehood. Everyone had an opinion about that.
Lucky settled into his chair and opened his paper. He sat so he could peer over the top when he wished. He watched Jennifer Reynolds and her friends moving out the door. He knew that she was out of his league but he could day dream. He saw an article about the Alice Company and Lexington Mine shipping 2630 pounds of silver worth $42,000. He grinned when he saw that the shipment had been made in January. No sense in giving outlaws advanced notice.
Lucky was about through with his papers when three men came in and sat down not too far from him. They mentioned a name that made his ears perk up. They were talking about Long John Krogstad. One of the men said in a low earnest voice, "Long John is forming a company to haul freight to the mines and ore from them."
One of the others said, "What company is that?"
"I think he's going to call it the Rocky Mountain Railroad of Montana. He's planning on starting at Bozeman and going all the way to Butte. I heard that he'd swing as far south as Pony and then go right by the Red Bluffs, Pipestone, Iron Rod, Silver Star, Cherry Creek and Elk Creek mines. Just the supplies alone from there should keep a short railroad like that in business. If he gets to haul the ore to the Butte smelter, that railroad could be a real money maker."
"Yeah, Long John could get the track pushed through. Just look what he's doing for JJ Hill. They've made good progress from Great Falls. I hear that they're about ready to come into the canyon near Wolf Creek."
"Yeah, he does a good job of getting track down but can he raise money? Has he got any backers? What will he use for money?"
"I heard that he might get some of the government land. JJ Hill and some of the others who are pushing railroads through are getting every other section of land along the railroad as incentive to get the railroads across the country."
"I also heard he gets a bonus from JJ Hill for getting this track to Helena before the Great Northern gets another track here. I heard he gets some of that land along the tracks as his bonus."
"He'll need a lot of it. Laying track from Butte to Bozeman will cost a pretty penny and I don't think he has the money to back him up. He could get part of the track laid and then run out of money. I won't invest in that railroad until I hear there's some big money behind him."
The men stood up and moved away, so Lucky didn't hear the rest of the conversation. He thought about what he would do with land. He had half a stake in four claims down by Virginia City but that wasn't much land. He really didn't want to be a prospector. There was too much work and most times not enough pay. No, if he was going to buy land, he wanted a ranch. He could hire people to do most of the work and he could still have his life style that he'd grown accustomed to. It suddenly dawned on him that he now had a goal. He needed to accumulate more cash to go along with what he had to buy land and cattle. He was going to have to move up from the small games he had been playing. They would take him forever to get enough money for the ranch.
Lucky looked out a window and saw the evening shadows enveloping the street and buildings. He needed to go back to his room to get ready for his work night. When he reached the room, he practiced his draw for several minutes and then sat in a chair to do the same thing. When he was satisfied, he went back to the dining room for his evening meal. It was dark outside by this time but he still sat at his table by the window. He enjoyed watching the carriages, wagons and horsemen going by.
Chapter 2