Clare Vanderpool - Moon Over Manifest

Jinx gathered up his money and inched his way toward the door, mistakenly thinking he could slip out while the two women argued it out.

“Call the sheriff. Arrest that boy,” Mrs. Larkin ordered.

Donal MacGregor stuck out his foot to block Jinx’s escape. “Not so fast, lad.”

“He’s been a source of conniving and cajolery in this community long enough,” Mrs. Larkin continued. “Just look at his loot. Who knows how many other innocent people he’s hoodwinked into buying that snake oil. I insist that he be put under arrest.”

“Now hold on, Eudora,” said Hadley. He looked at Jinx, who had his money in hand. “You’d better have a seat, son, until we get this sorted out. And why don’t you hand over that money to Shady for the time being?”

Jinx placed the money on the bar and took a seat behind the counter next to Shady, his one sure ally in the room.

“We have bigger problems at hand,” Casimir Cybulskis said, resuming the discussion. “How to raise a thousand dollars without being noticed by Burton. It is impossible.”

The room erupted in a din of agreement. Then Shady had an idea. “From the look of things, the mine owners and bootleggers aren’t the only ones making money after all.” He fanned the stack of bills in front of him.

“What are you saying, Shady?” asked Hadley.

“I’m saying that this young man may have an idea that we would do well to listen to.”

“You’re not suggesting we take advice from a con artist?” Mrs. Larkin asked in horror.

“All I’m saying is drastic times call for drastic measures.”

All eyes looked to Jinx, and Jinx looked to Shady with a horror to match Mrs. Larkin’s.

“Hadley Gillen!” Mrs. Larkin protested.

The hardware store owner jumped, wondering how he’d been put in the position of judge and jury. “Well, now …” He scratched his head, straining for a solution to this predicament. Then Velma T. came to his rescue.

“It’s true that Jinx tampered with the elixir that caused Mrs. Larkin to be a little more … well, animated than usual. So it does appear that some restitution is in order. Might I suggest that he do some manual labor for Mrs. Larkin? He can be quite industrious under the proper supervision.”

“That sounds like a fine idea. What say you, Eudora? Will a little restitution do the trick?”

“Well, Your Honor, I hardly think—”

“Settled.” Hadley tapped his glass on the table like a gavel. “Now, if we could get back to the subject at hand …”

All eyes returned to Jinx.

“Shady, I don’t think these folks want to hear from me,” Jinx whispered.

“Well, I’m sure Sheriff Dean would be more than eager to ask you a few questions,” Shady whispered back. “These folks are desperate. There’s no telling what they might do.”

Hadley Gillen looked at the worn faces all looking at Jinx. “Young man, this town is at a bit of an impasse. If you have any suggestion that might help, now would be the time to voice it.”

Jinx squirmed to his very core. He looked pleadingly at Shady to be relieved of this fix.

Little Eva, who had continued to carefully take apart each doll to remove a smaller one from inside, finally removed the tiniest doll, and tottered over to Jinx. “Matryoshka,” she said, naming the nesting doll. She handed the smiling doll to him as if this tiny memento embodied the hopes and fears of everyone in the room.

Jinx accepted the gift and the burden. He cleared his throat. “So,” he began haltingly, “you want to keep Devlin and Burton out of town for a month and make a thousand dollars?”

“That’s right,” Hadley answered for the group.

“Would that include keeping Sheriff Dean out of town?”

Hadley paused, studying Jinx. He seemed to sense the bargaining that was taking place. “I suppose it would.”

“Then I have an idea.”

There was a solidarity among the people in Shady’s bar that night, as one by one they emerged from their trenches and ventured into no-man’s-land.

FULL An Excellent Investment ASSOCIATION and a Patriotic Duty PRESS

MANIFEST HERALDMANIFEST, KANSAS SUNDAY—JULY 21, 1918 PAGE 1

SPANISH INFLUENZA—

NO OCCASION FOR PANIC

————

Dr. Alfred Gregory, Mine Medical Staff

The Spanish influenza is nothing more than the old grip or la grippe, which circulates from time to time. Symptoms include chills, aching, fever, and sometimes nausea and dizziness. The germs attack the lining of the air passages, nose, throat, and bronchial tubes, which results in a deep cough and sore throat.

At the first symptoms, go to bed, stay quiet, and don’t worry. Take a laxative, such as prunes, and eat nourishing food. One may also apply menthol and camphor rub to the chest, back, and neck. However, prevention is the best medicine. Evidence seems to prove that this is a germ disease spread principally by human contact, chiefly through coughing, sneezing, or spitting. So avoid persons who are likely to do those things. And remember: hard work and healthy living will keep one free of sickness. HEALING SPRING WATERS

HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS

Come to the healing springs of Hot Springs, Arkansas. Who needs Colorado Springs when you can find healing and comfort in the moderate climate of Hot Springs, Arkansas? Take a walk on the promenade of Bathhouse Row and choose from one of our many bathhouses. You can bathe in our natural thermal mineral springs, which are known for their therapeutic value in the relief of common ailments such as arthritis, bursitis, rheumatism, and gout. Come visit the springs of Hot Springs, Arkansas.

HATTIE MAE’S NEWS AUXILIARY JULY 21, 1918

I regret that there will be no “Hattie Mae’s News Auxiliary” this week due to my feeling puny these last couple of days. I will keep my chin up and hopefully resume writing all the whos, whats, whys, whens, and wheres by next week.

HATTIE MAE HARPER

Reporter About Town

PVT. NED GILLEN

IN AN OPEN FIELD

JUNE 28, 1918

Dear Jinx ,

How’s the spy hunt going? Uncovered any subterfuge? If President Wilson comes to visit again, which he probably won’t, tell him Ned Gillen says hey and us boys overseas could use some warm blankets and better food .

We’re all tired and hungry right now. After a long ride in boxcars with soldiers jammed shoulder to shoulder, we had an even longer march in the pouring rain. We were heading one direction, watching lines of old-timers trudging the other way. A sad-looking lot with their scraggly beards and muddy uniforms, they seemed like they’d been through it. We’d see sixty, seventy soldiers in a row, Frenchmen, in horizon blue uniforms, all with eyes bandaged, walking with their hands touching the shoulder of the guy in front for direction. Poor chumps got gassed and couldn’t even see the Yanks coming to end this war .

We’re finally settled in for the night, if that’s what you call being wedged into the muddy wall of a six-foot trench. I’m so hungry right now all I can think of is taking out the belly wrinkles, as the fellas say. We’re eating in shifts, because there aren’t enough chow kits for everyone. We’re so short on everything I’m lucky to have a gun .

Beans and bread tonight. I wish I could say Pop’s cooking is better, but we both know that’d be a lie. Don’t tell him I said that. We’re using army forks. That means our fingers, if you’re wondering why there are food smears on this letter. So much for fancy perfumed paper. I sure am missing Mama Santoni’s home-cooked lasagna. Tell her to keep a pot of sauce simmering for when I get home .