Read Online The Gold Miner's Wife: A Young Woman's Story of Romance, Passion and Murder by Amethyst Creek - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Amethyst Creek
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replied.
“You are a bit too early for breakfast, but may I offer you some coffee?” asked Mrs. Sheppard.
“No, thank you,” Brophy answered brusquely. “Would you be so kind as to point me in the direction of the nearest trolley?” he asked with a thick Irish brogue.
“Of course,” said Catori. “We are on Grant Street. There is a trolley one block east on 17 th Street. You shouldn’t have to wait very long.”
“Excellent. Good day, ladies,” was all he said before letting himself out the back door. They both wondered what possible business a stranger to a new city could possibly have at such an hour. He almost behaved like someone who had just gotten his marching orders.
Chapter Nine
Six Days Later
Below the Five Nuggets Mine and the other mines in the area, the busy town of Pine Creek clung to the mountainside, offering everything from banks to brothels, from saloons to boarding houses. Madam Delilah’s establishment was at the edge of the town, a whitewashed two story, wood frame house with lace curtains in all the windows. Colorful pots with well-tended geraniums decorated the front porch. The eaves around the perimeter of the porch were trimmed with graceful scalloped edges. Madam Delilah was a shrewd businesswoman, she paid attention to the important details that set her establishment apart. A porcelain oil lamp with a painted floral design graced the front window. The hardwood floors were covered with attractive carpets. The walls were decorated with paintings of flowers. Her red light ladies were stylishly dressed and well groomed. There were other brothels in town, but hers looked to be high class, feminine, inviting.
She employed eight young women – all down on their luck, with no place to go when their families threw them out or abandoned them. Illiterate, poor and from broken families, these women had limited options available to them. Madam Delilah knew what lured them to this occupation, the thin thread of hope of being noticed by a miner who prospered. They were all laboring under the false belief that someone would rescue them from a wretched and hopeless existence. These fallen women and purveyors of pleasure risked disease, injury and sometimes death, gambling that prostitution might be a path to marriage. John Brophy was taking his pleasure this evening with one of Madam Delilah’s doves. Her name was Mary Dempsey, but to her customers she was Jade. She was young, had a pleasant looking face and was full-breasted, the way Brophy liked them.
It had been a productive six days for Brophy. The train let him off at Pine Creek. He had no sooner walked up the dirt road to the mining camp, when one of the managers of the Five Nuggets Mine interviewed the strapping young Irishman and put him to work almost immediately. Brophy was outfitted with an oil wick lamp, buckskin gloves, felt hat and pick ax and very soon was putting his back into the hard labor of moving ore. He was also given a brass check with a number on it. This was hung on a board at the mine entrance. If disaster struck, managers counted checks to identify missing miners.
Brophy soon became familiar with the layout of the camp and the inner workings of the mine. The passages would twist and turn, with jagged rocks lining the tunnel walls. One depended only on an oil wick lamp or miner’s candlestick to light the way. Miners would bend the end of a spike to hold the candle. The spike was then jabbed into wooden support beams or crevices in the stone walls.
Brophy was cordial to the other miners, he followed directions, he put in a full day’s work, he watched and learned. He was careful to observe the number of men who worked there and
“You are a bit too early for breakfast, but may I offer you some coffee?” asked Mrs. Sheppard.
“No, thank you,” Brophy answered brusquely. “Would you be so kind as to point me in the direction of the nearest trolley?” he asked with a thick Irish brogue.
“Of course,” said Catori. “We are on Grant Street. There is a trolley one block east on 17 th Street. You shouldn’t have to wait very long.”
“Excellent. Good day, ladies,” was all he said before letting himself out the back door. They both wondered what possible business a stranger to a new city could possibly have at such an hour. He almost behaved like someone who had just gotten his marching orders.
Chapter Nine
Six Days Later
Below the Five Nuggets Mine and the other mines in the area, the busy town of Pine Creek clung to the mountainside, offering everything from banks to brothels, from saloons to boarding houses. Madam Delilah’s establishment was at the edge of the town, a whitewashed two story, wood frame house with lace curtains in all the windows. Colorful pots with well-tended geraniums decorated the front porch. The eaves around the perimeter of the porch were trimmed with graceful scalloped edges. Madam Delilah was a shrewd businesswoman, she paid attention to the important details that set her establishment apart. A porcelain oil lamp with a painted floral design graced the front window. The hardwood floors were covered with attractive carpets. The walls were decorated with paintings of flowers. Her red light ladies were stylishly dressed and well groomed. There were other brothels in town, but hers looked to be high class, feminine, inviting.
She employed eight young women – all down on their luck, with no place to go when their families threw them out or abandoned them. Illiterate, poor and from broken families, these women had limited options available to them. Madam Delilah knew what lured them to this occupation, the thin thread of hope of being noticed by a miner who prospered. They were all laboring under the false belief that someone would rescue them from a wretched and hopeless existence. These fallen women and purveyors of pleasure risked disease, injury and sometimes death, gambling that prostitution might be a path to marriage. John Brophy was taking his pleasure this evening with one of Madam Delilah’s doves. Her name was Mary Dempsey, but to her customers she was Jade. She was young, had a pleasant looking face and was full-breasted, the way Brophy liked them.
It had been a productive six days for Brophy. The train let him off at Pine Creek. He had no sooner walked up the dirt road to the mining camp, when one of the managers of the Five Nuggets Mine interviewed the strapping young Irishman and put him to work almost immediately. Brophy was outfitted with an oil wick lamp, buckskin gloves, felt hat and pick ax and very soon was putting his back into the hard labor of moving ore. He was also given a brass check with a number on it. This was hung on a board at the mine entrance. If disaster struck, managers counted checks to identify missing miners.
Brophy soon became familiar with the layout of the camp and the inner workings of the mine. The passages would twist and turn, with jagged rocks lining the tunnel walls. One depended only on an oil wick lamp or miner’s candlestick to light the way. Miners would bend the end of a spike to hold the candle. The spike was then jabbed into wooden support beams or crevices in the stone walls.
Brophy was cordial to the other miners, he followed directions, he put in a full day’s work, he watched and learned. He was careful to observe the number of men who worked there and
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