Deadwood Bound- Chapter 11

Deadwood Duology

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December 11, 1899

With the books once again adequately sheltered now that I’ve replaced the bows and canvas of my wagon I stationed myself in front of Mr. Adams’ grocery store and began to pitch the people of Deadwood.

No matter the location, the one thing i've learned is people will just stare until one of ‘em is brave enough to actually step up and start flipping through a book. Then a number of ‘em will follow.

So I usually find some lonely soul and give him a coin or two in exchange for coming up to the wagon and having a browse.

But this time around, before I could spot a possible accomplice, a rugged lady dressed like a man came trouncing up to me, pointing out a couple of dime novels I had displayed on the tailgate of my wagon.

“Son of a bitch. That done hardly look like me. Who gave you permission to go writin’ some book ‘bout me?”

The character on the cover did look like her. At least enough for me to know who was standing right before me in the flesh.

“Well, Miss Jane, I don't write the books, I just sell ‘em.”

“And probably makin’ a damn good pretty penny slingin’ these lies ‘bout me.”

“Actually, they're only ten cents each, Miss Jane. Not a lot of profit to be made.”

“You callin’ me cheap, cocksucker?”