silk petticoat rustled in through the space, wrapped around six feet of female.
Movement rippled through the crowd, and caps and hats came off heads that had been breeding lice in darkness for weeks. That was impressive.
âWhatâs the row, Hodge?â the woman said. âI could hear you punching holes in my bar all the way from Pacific.â
âCly your daddles, Nan. Itâs all plummy.â With his chin nailed to the bartop, the rest of Hodgeâs hard-hatted head had to move up and down to get the words out.
Nan Feenyâwhat I could see of her while dividing my concentration among Hodge, Billy, and the womanâs reflection in the mirrorâhad a handsome head on a long neck with a choker, topped by an elaborate pile of hairâstartlingly white, against a face that was still too young to need as much paint as had been applied to it.
âPlummy as a bag of nails,â she observed, and unslung a pepperbox pistol from the reticule she carried.
âRed lady,â muttered the tinhorn seated at the table, laying the queen of diamonds on the king of clubs.
10
âJust the one, and youâre lucky to have it. Them pegos wasnât sleeping on the deck for the fresh air. Twenty-five cents a day.â Nan Feeny opened the door and stepped aside.
âWe were told twelve.â I waited for my eyes to adjust. The room, one of several opening off a short hall behind the barroom, was a windowless den no larger than a shipâs berth, with two narrow bunks built one atop the other into the wall, which I thought was carrying the nautical theme too far.
âTwelve apiece, and a penny tax.â
âWho collects the tax?â Beecher took his turn looking at the accommodations. There wasnât room for two men to stand inside.
âLittle squint-eyed ponce stinks of lilacs, and you donât want to turn him away without his copper. I was burned out once. Thatâs the price of pride in Barbary.â
Weâd settled our differences in the saloon. Beecher had checked his revolver and Iâd given Hodge back his arm, and when sheâd put up the pepperbox weâd straightened out the reason for our visit. Face to face, or almostâthe proprietress had two inches on me in my high-heeled bootsâshe had bad skin, hence the paint, and strong bones that wouldnât give up her age short of another decade. However, she was still two young for her white hair, which didnât look like a wig. She wore it in a chignon that added several unnecessary inches to her height.
I asked her how much for a week, which surprised her. Her natural eyebrows went up almost as high as the ones sheâd brushed on.
âCartwheel dollar. I donât take paper. Thereâs more queer cole hereabouts than treasury. If itâs coniakers youâre after, Iâd best quote you the rate for a year.â She had a granite brogue with no green pastures in it.
Iâd shown her the star and the telegram. âWeâre not interested in counterfeiters, if thatâs what youâre asking. Tell me if this means anything.â I handed her the double eagle.
She studied the coin on both sides. I thought for a moment she was going to bite it, but teeth were scarcer than gold in that neighborhood. She gave it back, and it was my turn to be surprised. I thought Iâd have to wrestle her for it. âI ainât even seen one of them in lead. If you take Nanâs advice youâll keep it in your kick. Thereâs tobbiesâd settle you for spud and lurch your pork in the brine.â
Any way I worked that out didnât sound attractive.
Beecher said, âThis one was stamped right here in San Francisco.â
Nan studied him before answering. I couldnât tell where she stood on the subject of conversing with Negroes.
âStrictly speaking you left Frisco behind when you crossed Pacific Street. Thereâs some as would say you passed right on