Have Gun Will Travel - Powder Smoke in Dodge City

[jemmus]

The front desk man wears a handlebar mustache and oiled hair with a crisp part. He examines a wide page of a hotel guests registry. He says, Yes, there are a Michael Murphy and a Martin Murphy registered. He speaks like a man trying to cover a local country accent and enunciate in a more urban way.They’re still guests, they haven’t checked out as yet. Room 205. Almost directly across the hall from yours, sir…. Mr. Paladin, I believe. By the way, Mr. Ray Wiley Hubbard, who is also a guest, asked the hotel to provide you and the older gentleman you’re traveling with with every amenity, at his expense, of course. Mr. Hubbard is one of our oldest and most frequent guests at Harvey House. And quite influential in the town. He knows everyone, from cattle baron to trail boss to sale barn auctioneer to purveyor of spirits to saloon manager to dance hall girl and town drunk. And of course every gambler of any repute in Kansas and Missouri, and probably beyond too. Did you know that Dodge City doesn't even have a mayor or town council, Mr. Paladin? The local merchants and regular families want to change that. To take control of law and order against the drifters, vagrants and criminals continually shooting up the town.
They're demanding peace, order and stability. And the establishment of a mayor's office, to get a handle on town affairs. They say that lot of money passes through Dodge City--and getting a handle on some of it could be quite... lucrative. For the town. For even building and running public schools.He winks a knowing wink and smiles.

Would you like to have a bottle of whiskey sent to your room, Mr. Paladin? Or some pastries? A songstress and, um, masseuse? I’m afraid we don’t have any wine or chocolate on hand at the moment. They should be in from St. Louis within the week. Is there anything else Harvey House can help you with, U.S. Deputy Marshal Mr. Paladin? The man with the waxed mustache and oiled hair looks Paladin in the eye, without blinking.

[Grognardsw]

“I’m all for ‘peace, order and stability,’ as you say,” replied Paladin to the talkative clerk. “So I appreciate your help.”

“Thank Mr. Hubbard for me for his hospitality, and tell him I can’t accept while I’m on the job.”

Is Harvey House the type of hotel where they keep the key when you leave, or does one carry it with you? If the former… Paladin saw the hotel key board and looked at the hook for the room 205 key.

[jemmus]

I see, the desk man replies. We'll check with older gentleman then.

Guests take their keys with them at Harvey House, or they can leave them at the front desk. There's no key hanging from Room 205's hook.

[Grognardsw]

“Please notify me and the marshal’s office if you see these men go to their rooms,” said Paladin. “There is a sizeable award for it. And you can help bring ‘peace, stability and order’ that Dodge deserves.”

Paladin went back up to Hartsfield’s room.

”Mr. Hartfield, you recall when we were coming back from the Longbranch and heard those gunshots? They hit the Dodge marshal and his deputy. They are still alive. There is a chance those shots came from this room. Your door was not broken into. Is your hidden money still here?”

[jemmus]

Hartsfield says, I thought I caught a little whiff of gunsmoke smell when I came in, but it was really faint and I couldn't be sure. Somebody shot Dillon and Goode? They have any idea who, or why? Not that there's any lack of bad men out there that would want them dead. It's wonder they're still alive. But yes, Mr. Paladin, the money's still in the bag. I checked it when I came in.

[Grognardsw]

When Paladin and Hartsfield returned to Hartsfield’s room, did Hartsfield have his key on him or did he pick it up at the front desk?

“The marshal believes it was the two men we passed on the stairwell. The why is for revenge. I’m glad the money is here. Though there is still the question of how the two men got in - did they pick the lock or somehow get a key?” Paladin didn’t voice some other suspicions.

“Well, good night. Secure the door. We meet Henry Miller tomorrow at 8:30 am, assuming he wasn’t wounded in the Longbranch brawl.”

After leaving Hartsfield, Paladin stepped quietly in front of the door to room 205 and listened at the door in case he heard anyone stirring or talking within.

If so, something else than if not…
Paladin then went back to the Longbranch to inquire with Miss Kitty.

“Kitty, do you know an Irishman John “Johnny” Duffy?” he asked.

Paladin eyed the room to see if the gambler Ray Hubbard was there.

[jemmus]

Paladin heard Hartfield turn the key in the door's lock and prop a chair's back against the doorknob. Room 205 was dead silent.

At the Long Branch, he saw that Ray Wiley Hubbard was dealing at his reassembled faro table. The players and spectators were all sporting black eyes, swollen lips, and contusions about the face. But not Hubbard. He looked as if he'd just stepped out of a St. Louis hotel. Henry Miller was seated at another table. There was a clean white bandage wrapped around his nose, ears and the back of his head. He was watching as Emma as she and the other waitresses finished sweeping up broken glass and splintered furniture. There was a half-finished glass of beer in front of him.

Johnny Duffy? Kitty said. That's him at the faro table. He's the short man with the oversized cowboy hat. He's not drinking yet because his credit here has run out, and nobody likes him much. No doubt he's playing for funds for his first drink of the night.

[Grognardsw]

When Paladin and Hartsfield returned to Hartsfield’s room, did Hartsfield have his key on him or did he pick it up at the front desk?

Paladin studied Johnny Duffy from the bar, where he drank a beer. "Sorry a little hell broke loose here tonight," he said to Kitty. Paladin was going to keep a discrete eye on Duffy, and follow him back to whereever he lived.

When Henry Miller was at a break in his game, or was done, Paladin approached the man. "How you feeling Henry? Are you still on for the 8:30 am meeting tomorrow with Amos Hartsfield? It's a good opportunity for money, and will have you back here in a few days to spend it on Emma."

Paladin watched the floor for the Mack, or Murphy, men in case they decided to seek out their next victim.

If a spot opened in Ray Hubbard's faro table, Paladin took a seat.

[jemmus]

Hartsfield had his key on him. A more extensive GM post coming later.

[jemmus]

Miller is breathing through his mouth and he speaks with a muffled nasally voice. It seems that Doc might have stuffed his nostrils with bandaging to block any bleeding. I've felt worse, Mr. Paladin. I'm up for the job and I'll be there in the mornin.

Paladin kept an eye out for the Macks/Murphys, but didn't see in the Long Branch or enter or exit it.

Paladin stood watching the faro game for 20 minutes or so, observing how it was played and the progress of the various players around the table. One fellow, a townsman by the look of him, had a run of bad luck with his bets. He put $5 on this one and lost it too. That's it, I'm done for the night, he said. He stood and went to the bar. Gimme a beer, barkeep. I ain't goin home to the old lady both broke and drunk. Paladin took the man's seat at the table. The dealer Ray Wiley Hubbard stroked his handlebar mustache and touched to fingers to the brim of his derby hat. Good evening, Mr. Paladin. An honor to have you at the table.

[jemmus]

GM post above revised slightly after posting.

[Grognardsw]

Paladin nodded at Hubbard as he took a seat. His gambling had been cold this past month. He played his first hand.

Faro hand one [1d20]=13

[jemmus]

The faro game is about at its midpoint, with around half of the deck of cards out face-up on the board. Hubbard says, The bet's a dollar. Everybody in? The other four players at the table grunt or nod. Seems they're not a very talkative bunch. Hubbard slides the top card out of the faro box and turns it over.


Hubbard [1d20]=11 Gets to add 4 due to his Gambling skill level, so 15. That beats Paladin's 13. Lose $1.
Man 1 [1d20]=12 Adds 2 for Gambling. Doesn't beat dealer's 15, loses.
Man 2 [1d20]=4 Adds 5. Loses.
Man 3 [1d20]=6 Adds 4. Loses.
Man 4 [1d20]=9 Adds 2. Loses.[/ooc]

Good guesses, gentlemen, I'd say. But this time the luck was with the dealer. He collects the players coins and bills and puts them in a nicely crafted lockable cherrywood box that's a little bigger than a cigar box. Two men walk in and look around the room. Paladin recognizes them as the two other men who lead horses onto the train at Lawrence, and were at breakfast with the Murphys/Macks. The men Dillon said resembled Nathan B. Nunn Jay Connor. The man hung for lynching a man suspected of shooting his brother in the back. They spot Paladin at the faro table, but don't acknowledge that they've ever laid eyes on him before. They go to the bar, say something to the bar tender, and he turns and begins filling a beer glass from a spigot. Paladin wonders where the men have been all this time after dark, while the rest of the male population currently in Dodge City have been getting intoxicated, ineptly courting the wait staff, and busting up Kitty's saloon (and each other, of course).

Please roll on Observation, in case Paladin might notice a little thing.

[Grognardsw]

Paladin continued his gambling record as he scanned the room. He wondered if the Nunn brothers knew where the Mack/Murphy’s were.

“So Mr. Hubbard, the Harvey House clerk shared your offer of hospitality. Thank you, though I couldn’t accept at that moment. The clerk was talking you up.”

Paladin played his second hand.

Faro hand two [1d20]=7
Observation for cheating [1d20]=8
I should really pick up Gambling skill. I’ve been in more gambling situations than gun fights At least you don’t die if you lose.

[jemmus]

I have to fix some mess-ups I made with NPCs names along the way. I assigned different names to the same characters along the way. There’s no way Paladin could sort things out without correcting things here. Sorry for the mash-up!

Reminder that “Jayhawks” are Federal sympathizers and “bushwhackers” are Confederate sympathizers.

Jefferson “Red” Mack – A jayhawk. Shotgunned Billy Connor.
Jay Connor, brother of Billy Connor – A bushwhacker. Lynched “Red” Mack. Convicted and hanged by the Federal government.
Bob Cray and Johnny Duffy – Suspected of helping with the lynching.

Matt said that two of the men having breakfast at the dining hall resembled Nathan Nunn. That should be Jay Connor, not Nathan Nunn. From Matt’s comment, Paladin can surmise that the men calling themselves “Nunn” are related to the late Connors.

To clarify, the “Murphys” probably aren’t related to “Red” Mack. They wouldn’t likely have been traveling and dining with men related to the Connors. (“Red” Mack killed a Connor and a Connor lynched him).

Matt thinks that the four men are in town to get revenge for the government executing Jay Connor. Paladin’s assignment is to protect the Irishman Johnny Duffy. With whom he is now playing Faro. While the "Nunns" are at the bar.

[jemmus]

Paladin notices that when the two men enter the bar room, Hubbard looks up and looks them in the face, and silently and briefly acknowledges them. He replies to Paladin, I completely understand, Mr. Paladin. And I respect your professionalism. I don't drink while working either. The bet's one dollar again, gentlemen. The little Irishman in the big hat Johnny Duffy says, Oi'd have a little drink while workin, if you'd deal the right card. Paladin watches Hubbard's hands as the deals the card, but detects nothing out of the ordinary.

Faro hand 2
Hubbard [1d20]=15 17 after adding Gambling skill bonus.
Albertson [1d20]=15 No bonus. Loses.
Boyd [1d20]=13 15 after bonus. Loses.
Cunningham [1d20]=16 No bonus. Loses.
Duffy [1d20]=15 No bonus. Loses.

Duffy wipes his face with is his palm and mutters to himself. The two men at the bar walk over with a bottle and two glasses and take a seat at an adjoining table, 10 feet away. This time they look at Paladin, acknowledging that they've seen him before and they know where they know him from. They briefly nod the slightest of nods, unsmiling. They take seats facing the faro table and pour whiskey into the glasses. By force of tactician habit, Paladin notes that they are seated at his 10 o'clock position. Almost directly behind Duffy, but not so much that his body and outsized cowboy hat obscures their view of the table. The younger of the two men says, If anybody feels like gettin out of the game, I'll take your chair. Buy ya a drink on your way out too, for the courtesy.

[Grognardsw]

I have to fix…

Thanks for the clarifications. I hadn’t quite followed it all before, but figured that was me, and just boiled it down to the Mack/Murphy brothers are after Johnny. Now there are double the enemies

Judging from his acknowledgment of the Nunn brothers, Hubbard really did seem to know everyone, as the Harvey House clerk claimed. Paladin considered how that could help him. Or, if the gambler was corrupt, how it could hurt.

“I’d like to take you up on that in the future,” he replied to Hubbard. ”I think we may have some mutual interests in Dodge.” Enticement could serve a purpose.

Paladin nodded in return to the Nunn brothers. Better for them to think he was a neutral stranger sitting next to their target Johnny Duffy.

The gunfighter had put his badge in his pocket after flashing it to the Harvey House clerk. He figured the Nunns wouldn’t gun down Duffy from behind in such a public place. That could get them hanged. Goading Duffy into a confrontation though was another matter, or following him out.

Paladin used Duffy’s interposing position to the Nunns to discreetly take out a business card and pencil
and wrote on the back of it: “Your life in danger for Mack lynching. Don’t leave saloon without talking to me discrete-like at bar.”

Without looking at Duffy, at an angle and moment when the Nunns couldn’t see, and before the next faro game started, he slid the card to Duffy. Face-up, so folks at the table wouldn’t think he was passing a faro card.

Paladin played his third hand of faro.

Faro hand three [1d20]=10. Faro losses noted in Accounting Ledger.

[jemmus]

Duffy looks at Paladin's card and reads it with his lips moving slightly. He puts it in his trousers pocket and looks at Paladin with a look of surprise, then a degree of suspicion . He replies the man calling himself Nunn. Oi'll take ya up on that offer of a drink, mister. A little breather moight bring Lady Luck back. He stands and the younger "Nunn" brother takes the chair. He says, I'd recommend you get your own glass at the bar, mister. Them shitkickin cowpokes have all of the waitress gals surrounded. Which is true. Every one of Kitty's girls is hemmed in on all sides by eager cowboys, about all of whom is sporting a bandage, a shiner or a fat lip. Duffy fetches a glass from the bar and the seated Nunn pours him a generous drink from his whiskey bottle. Half a glass-- equal to a good three shots. Duffy downs around a third of the contents in one go. The man continues to the players at the table, Any of y'all want a drink? Today's my birthday, and since nobody's throwin a party for me, I got to do it myself. The players, Hubbard and standing spectators chuckle. The man Matt suspected to be his (older) brother says, I'll see if I can bust through one of them rings of vaqueros besieging the gals of the Long Branch Alamo and have her bring some glasses. The men around the table chuckle again. Ray Wiley Hubbard smiles and says, Thank you, sirs, for bringing the light of and generosity-- and festivity-- to this gaming table. Who says Dodge City has to be all violence, meanness, and gunfights. Or a preachy church lady no-fun town either! That draws some laughs and a couple of hoots of approval.

Hubbard glances down at the cherrywood box he keeps beside him under the table and assesses for a second. Gentleman, let's proceed while we're waiting for the refreshments. The dealer has had some good luck over the past few card draws. To continue with the spirit of generosity in the Long Branch saloon..... And hopefully around Dodge City in general... I'll tell you what. The bet this hand is still a dollar. But if you win, dealer pays a dollar fifty. If ya lose, you pay only 75 cents. The players around the table look up, eyebrows cocked and eyelids squinted in suspicious appraisal. He winks and smiles. And draws the next card out of the box and lays it face up on the faro table. Duffy takes another gulp from the glass, then drains it. He looks at Paladin, but doesn't head to the bar just yet. The elder Nunn is returning to the table, a waitress with a tray of glasses and a whiskey following.

Faro hand three
Hubbard [1d20]=4 Gambling bonus makes it 11.
Paladin [1d20]=10. Loses $.75
Albertson [1d20]=17 Wins $1.50
Boyd [1d20]=1 Gambling bonus makes it 8. Loses $.75
Cunningham [1d20]=11 With Gambling bonus, 12. Wins $1.50
Nunn [1d20]=14 Wins $1.50

[Grognardsw]

Paladin kept a neutral face and didn’t look Duffy in the eye. As Nunn took Duffy’s seat at the table, Paladin nodded in welcome.

The gunfighter-deputy joined in the laughs over Hubbard’s altruistic comments. If a majority of the table was taking up Nunn’s offer of a drink, Paladin partook as well. Paladin intended on playing the third hand, so as to not make a sudden departure that coincided with Duffy.

“Mighty generous of you Ray,” Paladin said to Hubbard at his offer of .75 cents on the dollar. The image of a fox guarding the hen house flitted thought his mind.

After the third hand loss, Paladin considered stepping away but if Duffy was hanging around the table he stayed for the fourth hand.

[jemmus]

Duffy didn't go to the bar. He heard about the free drinks coming and hung around the table.