Read Online Peril by Ponytail (A Bad Hair Day Mystery) by Nancy J. Cohen - Free Book Online
Authors: Nancy J. Cohen
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ore refined?” Dalton asked as they descended a steep set of stairs to a lower level. “Was there a smelter, or was it shipped by rail elsewhere?”
“The ore went to a stamping mill further up on the mountain and toward the other side. A narrow gauge railway ran from there to the main line. This train brought in supplies and transported the processed minerals to other locations. Now a water bottling company owns the property and operates a facility where the refinery used to stand.”
“Is anything left of the train tracks?”
“Nah, they got sold to Mexico. I imagine the depot is long gone by now. You can drive along the old rail bed, but it’s supposed to be a harrowing ride with dangerous curves and steep drops. Look, here’s the horse-drawn hearse.”
Marla’s glance flitted over the shiny black vehicle, but then her attention shifted to a two-story house beyond. It looked fancier than other buildings with fresh white paint and red trim and a balcony with carved wood posts.
“What’s that place?” she asked.
Raymond’s eyes crinkled in bemusement. “That’s where the better known prostitutes entertained their guests. Some of those ladies even married their regulars. I didn’t show you the dance hall another street over, but it was a popular place. In the rear were rooms where dancers offered private entertainments.”
“I imagine that drinking, whoring, and gambling must have been the main amusements for off-duty miners,” Dalton remarked in a wry tone.
“You’re probably right.” Marla glanced at the greenery between the buildings. “I’m surprised by how many taller trees grow this far up the mountain.”
“We have juniper, cypress, pinyon pines, and scrub oaks. It’s not like down on the ranch where vegetation is more sparse,” Raymond said.
Following him uphill again, Marla thought how pleasant it would be to stroll here when the restoration was complete. Her heart thumped in excitement as she glimpsed his vision for the future.
He stopped before a sturdy two-story stone house with brown dirt for a yard. “This is where the mayor lived. The tale goes that he fancied Doris McFee, who sang nightly at the Fat Hog Saloon. Doris had a beloved reputation around town because she visited the sick and brought food to the poor. When the mayor took ill, she moved into his house to care for him. One night, a man who had a grudge against the mayor attempted to shoot him. He killed Doris instead.”
“That’s terrible.” Marla wondered how many people died from gunshot wounds in the mining camp compared to death by disease or other means.
“Where was the mine entrance?” Dalton asked.
“If you follow the road around the mountain, it’s uphill from there. The main shaft has long since been sealed.”
“Will you run shuttles from the dude ranch up here for visitors?”
Raymond matched his long-legged stride. “That’s the plan. I’m hoping somebody will open a bed-and-breakfast place in town. I have a house in mind to renovate for that purpose. Plus we’ll lease the hotel once it’s restored.”
“That would take business away from Last Trail. Isn’t your point to raise revenue to balance out the slow season?”
“People who want the dude ranch experience can stay there. It’ll be a win-win for our bottom line either way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d better have a talk with Alberto about that falling chandelier. Feel free to stroll around. And if you get any exciting ideas about what might look good, be sure to tell me.”
“Will we see you at dinner?” Marla would love to hear more stories about the region’s past. She couldn’t imagine life as a miner. And it wasn’t one relegated to the history books, either. Dangerous mining conditions still existed around the world, whether for coal or diamonds or other materials. The role of women in the earlier century fascinated her, too. Aside from the red-light district, did women fill any other positions in town besides
“The ore went to a stamping mill further up on the mountain and toward the other side. A narrow gauge railway ran from there to the main line. This train brought in supplies and transported the processed minerals to other locations. Now a water bottling company owns the property and operates a facility where the refinery used to stand.”
“Is anything left of the train tracks?”
“Nah, they got sold to Mexico. I imagine the depot is long gone by now. You can drive along the old rail bed, but it’s supposed to be a harrowing ride with dangerous curves and steep drops. Look, here’s the horse-drawn hearse.”
Marla’s glance flitted over the shiny black vehicle, but then her attention shifted to a two-story house beyond. It looked fancier than other buildings with fresh white paint and red trim and a balcony with carved wood posts.
“What’s that place?” she asked.
Raymond’s eyes crinkled in bemusement. “That’s where the better known prostitutes entertained their guests. Some of those ladies even married their regulars. I didn’t show you the dance hall another street over, but it was a popular place. In the rear were rooms where dancers offered private entertainments.”
“I imagine that drinking, whoring, and gambling must have been the main amusements for off-duty miners,” Dalton remarked in a wry tone.
“You’re probably right.” Marla glanced at the greenery between the buildings. “I’m surprised by how many taller trees grow this far up the mountain.”
“We have juniper, cypress, pinyon pines, and scrub oaks. It’s not like down on the ranch where vegetation is more sparse,” Raymond said.
Following him uphill again, Marla thought how pleasant it would be to stroll here when the restoration was complete. Her heart thumped in excitement as she glimpsed his vision for the future.
He stopped before a sturdy two-story stone house with brown dirt for a yard. “This is where the mayor lived. The tale goes that he fancied Doris McFee, who sang nightly at the Fat Hog Saloon. Doris had a beloved reputation around town because she visited the sick and brought food to the poor. When the mayor took ill, she moved into his house to care for him. One night, a man who had a grudge against the mayor attempted to shoot him. He killed Doris instead.”
“That’s terrible.” Marla wondered how many people died from gunshot wounds in the mining camp compared to death by disease or other means.
“Where was the mine entrance?” Dalton asked.
“If you follow the road around the mountain, it’s uphill from there. The main shaft has long since been sealed.”
“Will you run shuttles from the dude ranch up here for visitors?”
Raymond matched his long-legged stride. “That’s the plan. I’m hoping somebody will open a bed-and-breakfast place in town. I have a house in mind to renovate for that purpose. Plus we’ll lease the hotel once it’s restored.”
“That would take business away from Last Trail. Isn’t your point to raise revenue to balance out the slow season?”
“People who want the dude ranch experience can stay there. It’ll be a win-win for our bottom line either way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d better have a talk with Alberto about that falling chandelier. Feel free to stroll around. And if you get any exciting ideas about what might look good, be sure to tell me.”
“Will we see you at dinner?” Marla would love to hear more stories about the region’s past. She couldn’t imagine life as a miner. And it wasn’t one relegated to the history books, either. Dangerous mining conditions still existed around the world, whether for coal or diamonds or other materials. The role of women in the earlier century fascinated her, too. Aside from the red-light district, did women fill any other positions in town besides
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