Deadlands: Riders on the Storm

Shootout at the Prince Royal
April 2, 1876

The Paiute Springs Sentinel

Sunday Edition

April 2, 1876
"Ever Vigilant, A Beacon of Truth!"
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Shootout at the Prince Royal!

by Oliver Milhouse

Gunshots rang out through the night from our esteemed Mayor's establishment last Monday night around midnight! Night clerk Vince McGillicuddy reports that semi-permanent guest Roland Dupre had an altercation with a newly-arrived stranger, a Miss Simone Moreau of New Orleans, in his room, ending with his firing his gun at her. Some reports have Miss Moreau being armed with a derringer at the time, others, not. Regardless, the altercation ended with her bearing a gut wound!

But then things get a little odd. Tombstone Epitaph odd, my friends.

Apparently, the gathered combatants (which included Miss Moreau's bodyguards and Miss Geradine Keeler), were also visited by a wandering Dust Devil! Yes friends, one of those legendary creatures of the deep desert that we've heard tell of from wandering travelers but never dared believed! Darn thing showed up in the hotel room! 

At any rate. Mr. Dupre will be questioned by Judge Perryman when he returns from riding circuit, as will Ms. Moreau, who has been commanded by Marshal Kimsey to remain in town.

Dupre Exonerated

by Oliver Milhouse

This Friday Judge Bradford Perryman heard the strange case of the shootout at the Prince Royal Arms Hotel that took place on Monday. Roland Dupre, local card sharp and gunman, and Miss Simone Moreau, lately of New Orleans, had an altercation in Dupre's room at the Prince Royal which ended in Miss Moreau being shot by Mr. Dupre. Mr. Dupre claimed self defense.

According to Mr. Dupre, Miss Moreau claimed that he had something that belonged to her and she kept cajoling him to hand it over. He assured her that he didn't know what she was talking about and attempted to avoid the woman. According to Dupre, she sent her hulking bodyguards, known only as Malcolm and Rudy, to tear apart his room, presumably to find this item. When confronted about it, Dupre says she pulled a derringer on him, which forced him to draw on her in kind and defend himself.

For her part, Miss Moreau claims that she, indeed, believes, that Dupre has something that belongs to her, and that when she confronted him about it, he grew agitated. She called for her bodyguards, who tore down the door to get to her, and he drew a gun on her and fired, but she drew her gun too late to defend herself.

Judge Perryman characterized Miss Moreau's story as "unmitigated horsehit" and ordered her to leave town under the escort of the town Marshal. He found Mr. Dupre not guilty of attempted murder. Roland's gun was returned to him by the town Marshal. This is the second time in a month that the young man has appeared before the judge and been exonerated.

Egg Hunt on Church Lawn

by Oliver Milhouse

Just a reminder: There will be an Easter Egg Hunt on the Paiute Springs Church Lawn on Sunday April 16th at 9 o'clock before the sermon that morning.

"Peace Ordinance" on the Table

by Oliver Milhouse

A group of concerned citizens, led by Mrs. Minerva Gage, has brought to Mayor J.P. Jefferson a proposal to pass a "peace ordinance" in the town, essentially banning the carrying of firearms in the city limits. Other communities have had such ordinances pass in an attempt to establish law and order on the frontier. No word as to whether the ordinance will appear as a referendum in an upcoming election or not.

Ask Aunt Sally

by Sally Mae Baumgarten

Dear Aunt Sally, I find myself being melancholy much of the time. Even around friends or doing things that usually bring me joy. I sometimes turn to the bottle to bring me solace. What can I do? — G.

Dear G, I am so sorry to hear that you are sad. But the bottle is not the answer. Only more sadness lies there. Turn to your friends or to the Good Lord. Find time to contemplate what brings you joy and focus on that. Turn away from thoughts of sadness. Look to family and friends and the Church for support. You have people that care about you. Don't turn away from them and seek solace in drink. — Yours, Aunt Sally.

Dear Aunt Sally, My husband says my breath is horrible. Not just in the morning, either. What can I do? I eat hard candy to mask it but that don't seem to do no good…— S.

Dear S., Try chewing mint leaves for a while, this may help. You may also need to see Doc Fabry—you may have abscess and this rot may be the root cause of the odor. Also, get a pick for your teeth and pick after every meal. Things get caught up in between your teeth and fester and cause the stink in your mouth. Getting rid of that will help. Between all of these things, you should feel, and smell, better in no time.— Yours, Aunt Sally.

Dear Aunt Sally, My brother is a toot. He keeps putting frogs in my bed. I want to get him but good. What can I do? — K.

Dear K., Aren't brothers the worst? There are any number of things you can do to "get him but good." Put molasses in his boots. Put a grass snake in his bed. Don't be afraid to get creative. But most of all—don't hurt him too bad—he is your brother, after all. — Yours, Aunt Sally.

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Fireball Streaks Toward Keeler House
March 12, 1876

The Paiute Springs Sentinel

Sunday Edition

March 12, 1876
"Ever Vigilant, A Beacon of Truth!"
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Fireball Streaks Toward Keeler House

by Oliver Milhouse

During the fantastic storms we had sweep through our town on the night of March 3, as the lightning danced through clouds and the winds whipped through the mountains, our very own Ryland Weeks saw a sight he won’t soon forget.

“There I was, sitting in my tent, hoping like Hell the whole damn thing wasn’t going to up and blow off down into the Basin, when I look up into the sky and see this flash of fiery light. It started careening downward and I yelled for the other fellers in the camp to ‘take cover’ but then I saw it was more southerly than I thought.

Then, this ball of flame streaked down toward old Doc Keeler’s place on Church Street. It was as if the Devil’s own billiards were being played in the Nevada sky. I saw the fire alight down behind the house, but lost track of it after that. All I did was hear a terrible crash-—and then the eeriest nothing you ever didn’t hear. It was like the storm stopped to listen to things for a moment. Then the thunder cracked and the weather took to stormin’ up again.

The next day, I half expected to hear that the Keeler place was a-fire. It weren’t—-and I’m glad of it, mind you. Nevertheless, I’ll never forget the way that fireball careened through air, not like it was fallen, but like it was flyin’ itself. Damnedest thing, I tell you.”

Anyone else have a story of the Paiute Springs Fireball to report from that night? What about Geraldine Keeler? We at the Sentinel approached the owner of the house for a statement and actually received one! Indeed, Miss Geraldine confirms that a flying machine of undetermined origin crashed into her back yard. She is personally investigating the device and its origins and hopes to present your humble reporter with more information within the week!

Stay vigilant, gentle readers. And watch the skies!

Confederate Spies Infiltrate Paiute Springs

by Oliver Milhouse

There's been a fair amount of gunplay going on in our fair town this past week. It turns out that a band of Confederate spies had come Paiute Springs to foment trouble and cause unrest.

It began with the arrival of "Miss Lavern Stefano" (if that is her real name) and her "cousin" Max Tucci. They and their entourage of ten "ranch hands" began snooping around town on March 7th. It turns out many of their inquiries concerned the flying machine found in Miss Geraldine Keeler's backyard. I am proud to say that your humble editor did not fall for their story and remained vigilant, as promised, against trouble. I never trusted that woman, but I digress.

This snooping precipitated a meeting between our esteemed Mayor and our beloved Town Marshal, who both descended upon the Keeler House to confer with Miss Geraldine. Now, I was not privy to that conversation (and have been stonewalled at every turn by Town officials), but it was sufficient to cause Miss Keeler and her boon companion, Roland Dupre, to high-tail it out of town.

The two were pursued by a couple of the "ranch hands" employed by Mr. Tucci. Mr. Dupre, in the process, was shot in the arm, but Miss Geraldine made it out of town.

This action seemed to anger our "visitors", who posted guards at the each of the main intersections leading out of town and "Miss Stefano" and "Mr. Tucci" began to hole up in the Prince Royal—with our Town Marshal and Mayor helplessly in tow.

Meanwhile, Miss Geraldine returned with a squad of Union soldiers from nearby Fort 51. The soldiers infiltrated the Prince Royal and captured the ringleaders!  

Currently, "Miss Stefano" or "Miss Josephine" (depending on who you talk to) is being held in our town jail, awaiting pick-up by the Union authorities. The Confederate "troops-in-sheep's clothing" have been escorted to the Arizona border.

But the question remains—just what was it that Geraldine Keeler found in her backyard that so interested the Confederates? She's not saying and it seems our Town officials have been sworn to secrecy by the Union. But will the rebels return to claim their bounty? Is the town really safe?Only time will tell..

The Arachne Circle to Meet

by Oliver Milhouse

"The Arachne Circle", a meeting of the town's spinsters, will take place in Mamie McDaniel's Boarding House three o'clock this afternoon. Miss Imogene Crane welcomes any woman who wishes to join them for tea and fellowship.

Get Well Soon!

by Oliver Milhouse

Best of wishes to Clara Dunwoody, of the mining camps. She's gotten pneumonia pretty bad. Friends are soliciting food and funds for her speedy recovery. Contact Jeb Wallingford for more information.

Ask Aunt Sally

by Sally Mae Baumgarten

Dear Aunt Sally, I often come home from a rousing night at the Imperial and wake up feeling poorly. Do you have any suggestions for a "morning after" cure? — X.

Dear X, Other than simple clean living, you might find that this will help. Drink plenty of water. Find some ginger root or prickly pear cactus—either one of these might help. But, most of all, your morning after is cured by your night before—consider a change there and your ills will be over! — Yours, Aunt Sally. 

Dear Aunt Sally, I just can't stand my boss. I need the money though. What can I do? — P.

Dear P., You have to ask yourself what you need more—peace of mind or the almighty coin. What are you willing to put up with? Nobody's boss is perfect—and I am my own boss. But you have to figure out what your heart and soul will survive. Also, you might try settling your differences with your boss—you could be pleasantly surprised! — Yours, Aunt Sally.

Dear Aunt Sally, My Mister is a miserable old cuss. He didn't used to be, but now I can't stand to breathe the same air as him. Is God going to strike me down if I take the next stage out? — D.

Dear D., I'm sorry you're so unhappy. As far as the proverbial lightning bolt, that's a question for Reverend Gage, I'm afraid. But I can say that marriage is sometimes hard and you have to work at it to get it right. Before you head to the stage coach, try fixing what is broken. The work may be worth it. — Yours, Aunt Sally. 

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Local Boy Still Missing, Presumed Dead
March 5, 1876

The Paiute Springs Sentinel

Sunday Edition

March 5, 1876
"Ever Vigilant, A Beacon of Truth!"
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Local Boy Still Missing, Presumed Dead

by Oliver Milhouse

Our own "Little Jake" Botham, only ten years of age, has been missing since the night of February 28. He was last seen at the traveling carnival that had visited our fair town, "Aloysius P. Southmeyer's Traveling Mysterium," at the tent of the Bearded Lady. Young Jake never returned from the tent to his parents.

Witnesses in the mining community confirmed that the lad was last seen in the company of a "grandmother" and led into a tent in the shantytown that surrounds the town proper. Investigation into the matter by local citizens Geraldine Keeler and Roland Dupre resulted in the the shooting death of a woman only identified as "Gerde," who owned the tent in question.

According to Town Marshal Lila Kimsey, there was evidence that this "Gerde" had taken the child at one point or the other. There were burnt remains of the child's clothing in her woodstove, as well as eyewitness placing her with the child that evening. Apparently, when confronted with these accusations,  she bodily attacked Miss Keeler.  Her companion, Mr. Roland Dupre, is an accomplished gunman and managed to fight the woman off of Miss Keeler—at the cost of her own life.

Miss Keeler had no comment on the matter, but Roland Dupre did. "That old woman was a fiend out of Hell. She…changed. Her jaw…dropped. It up and tried to take a hunk of flesh out of Geraldine's arm. So, yes, I shot the thing in the gut until it couldn't get back up. And I'd do it again, if in the same tent on the same night."

Nevertheless, no sign of the boy has been found other than scraps of clothing in the woodstove of this "Gerde's" tent. Townsfolk, as well as carnival folk, search the town and its environs, for signs of foul play, but nothing was turned up.

Town Marshal Lila Kimsey has officially declared the search over. "I'm afraid that boy is gone. It's time to give those folks of his closure. Life is for the living."

There will be a candlelight vigil and memorial service for the boy at the Paiute Springs Church tomorrow, March 6, at seven in the evening.

The Sentinel tips its hat to the parents of "Little Jake" Botham, "Big Jake" and Sally Botham. Say a prayer for these folks, when you get a chance.

Town Enjoys Traveling "Mysterium"

by Oliver Milhouse

Our fair town was visited by "Aloysius P. Southmeyer's Traveling Mysterium" last week and thoroughly entertained in the process.

The "Mysterium's" main event featured a tightrope walker, a pair of married trapeze artists from New York, a trio of acrobatic clowns, a trick rider and sharpshooter, and a Sioux knife thrower. The thrills were non-stop and the performances breathtaking. Of particular note was the performance of Jamie Smith, the Sioux knife thrower. Even our own town curmudgeon, Geraldine Keeler got in on the action and volunteered to be a target on the first night of the three-night engagement. Smith threw her blades with precision and managed to miss our Miss Keeler, all while blindfolded!

The sideshows were the typical fare of bearded ladies, strongmen, and sword-swallowers. Still, the performers were top-notch and definitely "the real deal." Of note is the display of the Fiji Mermaid. I defy anyone to find the fakery in that specimen!

The "Traveling Mysterium" was a truly entertaining show and a welcome entry into the Spring season for our community, local tragedies aside.

First Annual Garden Club To Meet

by Oliver Milhouse

The first annual Paiute Springs Garden Club is to meet Wednesday March 8th at Town Hall. The ladies will discuss the establishment of a town garden, the election of officers, and other official business. It is our hope that the Garden Club will become a perennial favorite!

Dunmoody Announces Engagement

by Oliver Milhouse

Jeb and Delores Dunmoody would like to announce the engagement of their daughter, Alice, to Jim Cleveland, a local boy from here in Paiute Springs. No date has yet been set for the pending nuptials. Yee-haw!

Dupre to See Judge Perryman

by Oliver Milhouse

Local gunfighter, card player, and raconteur Roland Dupre will be arraigned before Circuit Judge Bradford Perryman on Wednesday, March 8th on charges of manslaughter and creating a disturbance. These charges are in connection with the what has become known as the "German Grandmother" case. If found guilty, Dupre could face fines and up to 10 years in federal prison.  The Sentinel wishes Roland the best of luck!

Dear Aunt Sally…

by Sally Mae Baumgarten

Dear Aunt Sally, My husband refuses to eat my cooking. He says he'd rather eat "chicken feed" and goes off to the Prince Royal and spends too much money at the restaurant there. What can I do? —H.

Dear H., First of all, it is not a crime to not be a chef in the kitchen. The Lord knows I'm not. But you can take steps to ensure you don't drive your hubby away to Mayor Jefferson's Den of Iniquity ('wink wink,' JP). First of all, practice for your friends. See what works and what doesn't before you cook for your husband. Second, play to your strengths—if pork chops are too much for you, quit cooking them! Find out what works and stick with that! Finally, if the other steps don't work, join your husband at the Prince Royal and order the filet mignon. Yours, Aunt Sally.

Dear Aunt Sally, My name is [removed] and I have heard rumors that Der Kinderfresser has come to this town. Is this true? Ist my little Michael and my little Liese safe? Or is it true that the card-player killed the Teufel?—R.

Dear R., There's a lot of fear in your letter. I'm sorry that our stories keep you so anxious for your children. But remember, the actions of the good people around you, and of you joining forces with them, will always defeat evil. As far as the "child-eater", if there ever was such a thing, rest assured, it is gone now. No more children have disappeared since that night. Roland Dupre, though only recently come to Paiute Springs, is a friend of the Sentinel, and has proven himself to be not only a deft hand, but a good heart. So, yes, the fiend is dead and Roland killed it. With a bullet or with the Truth, one way or the other, the fiend is dead. Rest easy, friend. — Yours, Aunt Sally.

Dear Aunt Sally, I got me the gas real bad. My wife done kicked me out of the bedroom. It seems like no matter what I eat, too. Doc's got me on castor oil (hate that stuff). Bought some Elixir from this Briggs feller. Taste like I licked my mule and did as much good. What can I do?—J.

Dear J., Eat and drink what you want. Learn an outdoor trade. Invest in a cork plug or get used to the couch. Seems to me you've tried everything else. May as well enjoy yourself. — Yours, Aunt Sally.

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Freaks Attack Passengers at Last Switch
February 6, 1876

The Paiute Springs Sentinel

Sunday Edition

February 6, 1876
"Ever Vigilant, A Beacon of Truth!"
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Freaks Attack Passengers At Last Switch

by Oliver Milhouse

This past Monday (January 31), Charlotte Romine, esteemed shotgunner for the Old Barcelona Line, came riding into the township on a runaway stage, alone, and at night. When Lionel Putnam, local livery owner, managed to calm the horses attached to dusty Concord, the gathered townsfolk found that Charlotte was in a state: bloody, bruised, and nearly dead. Doc Fabry was sent for and she was helped out of the coach's driver's seat. All she could say was "Last switch. Need help. Teeth. Too many teeth."

Town Marshal Lila Kimsey was on the scene and immediately called together a posse to go check out the goings on at the Last Switch, some fifteen miles to the north of town. For one thing, driver George Hawkins was missing and for another, Charlotte had just been assaulted something fierce.

Lionel Putnam and his son, Darius, volunteered, as did local card player and gunman Roland Dupre. The four men headed up Church Street and stopped in at the home of Geraldine Keeler. Apparently she was interested in the affair, as she joined her horse to theirs and the five rode north, lead by Geraldine's lantern.

As to what happened that night, we have reports from eye witnesses. Folks, it is a strange tale indeed, and violent.

According to Marshal Kimsey, the posse rode up on the switch. After checking out the situation in the wagon yard, they found signs of a struggle, a great deal of blood on the ground, and a pistol marked "G.H."—George Hawkins.

The lights were on and smoke trailed from the chimney of the house.

Miss Keeler snuck around the perimeter of the house and peeked in the windows. Inside were two women sitting on the sofa, an older woman comforting a younger one. Gathered around the kitchen table were five men, including a Union soldier and a Paiute scout. And George Hawkins, nursing a wound to the head. The menfolk were all in a heated argument of some sort. 

Miss Keeler came back and reported to the posse. Then Marshal Kimsey went and knocked on the door. One of the men that was arguing, a younger man with a large mustache and fancy suit, opened the door with a big smile and welcomed them in. The Marshal identified herself and avowed that she wanted to talk to George.

"That's when we all knew something was afoot," Marshal Kimsey said to me, later. "George is an honest sort and what he was sellin', we just weren't buyin'. All of them in there, 'cept the womenfolk, tried to come off as if everything was sweet as peaches but somethin' was rotten."

"Mr. Hawkins managed to convey to Miss Keeler that there was a trap door beneath the central rug," said Roland Dupre. "That started us on the trail to wondering if the truth was beneath our feet."

The posse reconvened outside the switch house and started searching the grounds. Eventually, Miss Keeler and Mr. Dupre checked the shed beside the house.

Miss Keeler led the way with a lantern. Sure enough, there was a door in here leading into cellar, connected to the house. Miss Keeler opened the door and went inside.

"We were immediately set upon," said Mr. Dupre. "It was a monstrous-looking man. Bald, with bat-like ears. Deep, dark eyes with red points in the center. Long, clawed fingers. And long, needle-like teeth protruding from their blood-red mouths. He jumped forward swiped at Geraldine with his long fingers, quick as a breath. We both drew iron and tried to send it back to Hell—but it just seemed to ignore us. It was relentless as the Mississippi in flood season."

According to Mr. Dupre, the freak tried to drink Miss Keeler's blood out of her throat. The two of them managed to switch places in the doorway so that it could concentrate on him instead of her, but it was strong as an ox and just as stubborn.

Miss Keeler apparently hit upon a new idea and left the cellar, only to return a moment later with a wood axe. By this time, it had latched on to Mr. Dupre's neck.

"It was strong, and its teeth were sharp, like little steel knives cutting into my neck. I'm not ashamed to say my knees gave way when Geraldine came back," Mr. Dupre said.

In one mighty swing, Miss Keeler managed to remove the freak's head from its shoulders. It collapsed to the floor, releasing Mr. Dupre.

By this time, the upper door had been opened, making Marshal Kimsey and George Hawkins witness to the life-saving blow. It also shed light on the remaining horrors of the cellar.  

Another of the freaks was holding a young girl hostage down there, his long-fingered hand resting on the moppet's innocent head. Further, the corpses of the Clarkes, the family that ran the switch house, littered the floor.

"The freak had the nerve to try and negotiate his way out, with the little girl, Jasmine, in tow," Marshal Kimsey said later. "I told him where to stow that noise."

Apparently reaching a stalemate, the freak reached down and bit the little girl on the neck! Marshal Kimsey started firing on the thing and Miss Keeler approached with the axe, but apparently the weight too much for the woman, for she kept missing the fiend.

The Marshal, dissatisfied with the uselessness of her bullets, jumped down into the cellar and took the axe from Miss Keeler. Then, in a mighty swing, took the head of the second freak.

"Damndest thing I ever saw," Marshal Kimsey said. " I know I hit that thing with a Peacemaker, but I may as well have thrown jelly beans at it."

The little girl, Jasmine Justice, formerly of Tombstone, Arizona Territory, is recovering from her wounds and has moved on to Pioche with her mother, Lucille. Mr. Dupre is also fully recovered from his ordeal. Miss Keeler is also recovering nicely.

The bodies of the freaks, still unidentified, will be on display in front of Allan's General Mercantile until Friday, and then they will be interred in unmarked graves at the west side of the cemetery. The nature of the strangers is still unknown, though Miss Keeler asserts that they are examples of genetic mutations of some sort or another. Marshal Kimsey asserted that she wouldn't dare speculate and don't rightly care—they're dead as dirt now and that's all that matters. Roland Dupre would only smile and say "the only difference between a monster and a genetic mutation is that one keeps you up at night."

Good night, friends.

New Visitors to Paiute Springs in Aftermath of Violence 

by Oliver MIlhouse

Paiute Springs would like to welcome our newest visitors, newly come in the aftermath of the horrific events of January 31, as previously reported.

Matthew Briggs is a seller of elixirs and powders from Virginia City He plans to stay in Paiute Springs and ply his trade for a spell. If that dries up, he'll head to Pioche.  

Gertrude Mankowitcz is a Polish immigrant from Chicago who has come to Nevada to live with her son, Christopher, a prospector in Pioche.

Robert Farmer is a prospector and businessman on his way to Pioche to check on his holdings there.

Major Adam Traynor (Ret.) is a former Union officer returning home to Pioche after sustaining an injury.

Shane "Three Feathers" Robinson is a Paiute scout employed by the Army on a courier mission to Pioche.

Lucille Justice, and her daughter, Jasmine, are both traveling to Pioche to stay with Lucille's mother-in-law after the untimely death of her husband, Gordon, back in Tombstone, Arizona.

If you see any of these folks before they return to Pioche, give them a big Paiute Springs welcome!

Funeral Services Friday

by Oliver Milhouse

Funeral services for the Clarke family will be held at the Paiute Spring Church this Friday, February 11, 1876 at one o'clock. Internment will follow.

The Clarkes were Edna, Paul, and young Travis. They ran the last switch of the Old Barcelona Stage Line between Paiute Springs and Virginia City.

Dear Aunt Sally…

by Sally Mae Baumgarten

Dear Aunt Sally, my ding dang horse has gone and gotten hisself a cold. What can i do?—H.

Dear H, mix four ounces of egg whites, 1 ounce of camphor, 1 ounce of ginger, 1 ounce of camuel, 2 ounces of licorice powder and honey. Use two bowls the first day and one bowl every day until they come out all right. Yours, Aunt Sally.

Dear Aunt Sally, There have been a lot of strange things happening of late. I'm beginning to be frightened. What should I do? —F.

Dear F., We do, indeed, live in strange times. But we must be brave and carry on. Our faith and our native strength will carry us on. Keep strong, F., and maintain your faith in your neighbors and in your Lord. Yours, Aunt Sally. 

Dear Aunt Sally, You really are a silly old bat, ain't you? —R.

Dear R., If you can't say anything nice, then do as my sainted mother said. Shut yer face. Yours, Aunt Sally.

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Daltry Bros. Purchase Mechanical Mule
January 30, 1876

The Paiute Springs Sentinel

Sunday Edition

January 30, 1876
"Ever Vigilant, A Beacon of Truth!"
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Daltry Bros. Purchase Mechanical Mule

by Oliver Milhouse

Asa and Randall Daltry, two silver miners encamped around our fair town, have gone in together on the purchase on one of those wondrous contraptions made available by the Smith & Robards outfit out of Salt Lake City. Their previous mule, Bessy, being a cantakerous beast by all accounts, was not well liked and was unceremoniously sold to Mr. Han, our local launderer.

The arrival of the mechanical model by air carriage last Wednesday was the most exciting thing to happen in the town all week. The carriage landed just outside the outskirts of town and set down gently. Two gentlemen trundled out the crate and announced themselves and their intended addressees. The Daltry Brothers came forward and signed for their package and then the air carriage gentle rose on gossamer wings once again. It was breathtaking.

It took about half an hour for Asa to figure out how to get the confounded device started. But once he did, he and Randall walked it back to their camp. Soon they and some of the children around town were having mule rides—until it shut down again. They managed to solicit the help Geraldine Keeler, the town's local tinker, to get things right again. Soon, the miners and the children were cavorting through town on "Bucket" once again.

Deirdre Hollingsworth Dell

by Oliver Milhouse

We were saddened to hear of the passing of Deirdre Hollingsworth Dell (b. March 1, 1806). "Dee Dee" was a staple of the mining community and welcome face at the Imperial. Her razor-sharp wit and no-nonsense attitude were her defining characteristics.

She is survived by a daughter, Samantha Jane (Dell) Case of Virginia City, and a son, Edgar Daniel Dell of Pioche.

Wanted: Thomas Wayne Michaelson

by Oliver Milhouse

Town Marshal Lila Kimsey is offering a reward of $100 for the arrest of Thomas Wayne Michaelson. Michaelson apparently came into the mining camp and absconded with some supplies from various tents in the area. A poster is available in the Jail.

US Government Denies Existence of Strange Lights

by Oliver Milhouse

Your intrepid reporter has contacted the officials at the United States government facility to the north of Paiute Springs, colloquially known as "Fort 51" concerning the strange lights sighted in that direction.

I have received the following "official response.

Dear Mr. Milhouse,

Thank you for your inquiry. There are no experiments, "illicit" or otherwise, being performed at Fort 51 by the United States Government, that can account for the "strange lights" you or your readers report. Might I suggest your community look a bit closer to its own affairs instead of toward imaginary illuminations far into the desert skies.

Yours,

Captain Jay Kyle, 10th Cavalry Regiment, United States Army

Naturally, the authorities would have us deny our own senses rather than address the matter. Rest assured, gentle reader, we will get to the bottom of the matter. Truth will out!

Dear Aunt Sally…

by Sally Mae Baumgarten

Dear Aunt Sally,

I can't seem to get my husband to pay attention to me. He comes in from a day of prospecting and tells me about his day, but when I go to describe how my day with the children has gone, he ignores me or interrupts with "more important" things—like inquiries about dinner. I think what I do is important, too. Is there a way to make him see this? — C.

Dear C.,

Of course what you do is important. Without your important work, the household would fold around this old coot's ears. He just seems to have forgotten that. Sit down and talk to your husband about this one evening, after all the chores have been taken care of and there is nothing to distract from your talk. If he still doesn't listen, well, then quiet perseverance, the watch-word of the fairer sex since time immemorial, shall be your shield I'm afraid. — Yours, Aunt Sally.

Dear Aunt Sally, I can't stand my father-in-law. Can. Not. Stand. Him. He's a Confederate Sympathizer, for one thing. For another, he's a snuffer. Disgusting habit. At any rate, my wife dotes on the old man—a real "Daddy's Girl." But if I have endure another family dinner with this man, I may have to call him out, "in the Southern Way." What can I do?" —F.

Dear F., I'm afraid you married into your wife's family when you took your vows. Didn't you meet her family when you were courting? At any rate, you should have known exactly what you were getting into. Further, think of your wife before making any false moves. Your duty to our wife necessitates that you indulge her in this. Duty before comfort, always. — Yours, Aunt Sally.

Dear Aunt Sally, I'm pretty sure my neighbor stole my German Chocolate Cake recipe—the nerve! And she never has the class to mention where she got it. What should I do about it? — D

Dear D., My dear this is greatest of problems! Simply invite her to bake more cakes! Then you get more cake. Sure, she may get credit, but you get free cake! —Yours, Aunt Sally.

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Showdown at High Noon!
January 24, 1876

The Paiute Springs Sentinel

Special Evening Edition

January 24, 1876
"Ever Vigilant, A Beacon of Truth!"
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Showdown At High Noon!

by Oliver Milhouse

A dramatic scene played itself out at high noon today on Main Street as the mysterious, skull-faced stranger returned today to call out our town's spiritual advisor, Reverend Timothy Gage—or rather, Timothy Gaught—as the the stranger referred to him as. It appears our esteemed pastor has a checkered past of some sort, if he felt the need to change his name before heading into parts West.

At any rate, credit must be given to the Reverend for facing down the formidable stranger in the middle of the street with nothing but his faith and old Doc Keeler's duster to protect. Yes, friends and neighbors, our own Miss Geraldine Keeler must have made a loan of the eccentric doctor's allegedly bullet-proof garment to the Reverend, for it made an appearance today.

The two men, sinner and saint, exchanged heated words across the dusty street. The skull-faced man, calling the Reverend names like "lily-livered," "deserter," "disloyal," and "traitor," while the Reverend maintained a steely determination to see the confrontation through, each stared eah other down before, finally, things came to a spectacular climax.

Suddenly, the skull-faced man was rocked nearly out of his boots by blast coming from somewhere near the Imperial Saloon. Then the Reverend held aloft his crucifix and began reciting the Lord's Prayer at the stranger. And, lo and behold friends, the stranger began to cower in onslaught! He started backing his way down Main Street, making his way out of town. He never even reached for the Navy pistol he had tucked in his the waistband of his trousers. He just railed against the Reverend and warned him that a "storm was a-comin'. Yes indeed, you all are going to reap a whirlwind!" But the coward backed his way out of town and left.

Neighbors, I have never seen such a demonstration of the power of faith in all my years. Here we had a powerful mean man, a gunman and a bully, cowed by the power of faith. If that, my friends, doesn't put you into a pew on a Sunday, then your soul just can't be saved.

Checkered past or not, the Sentinel gives a tip of the hat to Reverend Gage for his demonstration of faith in the face of adversity.

 

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Cannibals Terrorize Town! Four Killed! Many More Injured!
January 24, 1876

The Paiute Springs Sentinel

Special Edition

January 24, 1876
"Ever Vigilant, A Beacon of Truth!"
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Cannibals Terrorize Town! Four Killed! Many More Injured!

by Oliver Milhouse

Our fair town of Paiute Springs, Nevada was the victim of unspeakable violence in the twilight hours this morning as a gang of murderous cannibals came tearing into downtown, pounding down doors, destroying property  and attacking people in their homes and on the streets. The gang, whose purpose is at this time unknown, but the subject of great speculation, attacked with brute strength marked with a propensity to bite their victims and tear flesh away with their very teeth.

According to eyewitness reports, the attack began shortly after midnight when the church bell started ringing  and a stranger who had arrived in town that very morning was seen up in the church belfry. That appears to have been the fiends' signal to attack. They came out of the darkness and started assaulting folks in force. Even Ole Svensson, the Herculean silver miner from Virginia City, seemed to have been overcome with the sheer strength of these brutes. He was found dead outside of his tent, his skull cracked open and his brains partially devoured by the devils. He was one of four ultimate victims of the night of violence.  The others, Thomas Mowry, Janine Squarrels, and Matthew King will, along with Svensson, be interred at Paiute Springs Cemetery on Tuesday, January 25, 1876.

The fiends were finally put down after a joint effort of citizens who gathered on Main Street to much acclaim. Many shots were fired before the formidable assailants were finally put down. None were taken alive.

Heroes of that night are cited to be our very own Town Marshal,  Lila Kimzey, Miss Geraldine Keeler, and a Mr. Roland Dupre, late of New Orleans.

The Assault on Paiute Springs—An Inside Job?

by Oliver Milhouse

This morning's heinous attack on Paiute Springs may be have been the work of insiders, sources say. Emil Peabody, one of the folks who did his civic duty by helping clean up the mess of the aftermath of the slaughter, confided to your intrepid reporter that the one of the bodies of the fallen cannibals was none other our own Amos Bracken—late of Paiute Springs!  

"Oh, it was Amos alright. I'd recognize that gap-tooth sumbitch anywhere," Peabody said. "Of course, that colored feller done put a new hole in his head to match the one Oscar had kicked there, but I'd still recognize him," Peabody reported.

As our dear readers probably recall, the Sentinel had already reported on the death of Mr. Bracken some two week past. He had, apparently allegedly, passed of head injury inflicted by his mule, Oscar. The Sentinel hereby retracts it's earlier statement—it appears its report of Mr. Bracken's death was premature.

As for the other members of the gang, they appeared to be in various states of disarray and dishevelment—most likely itinerants and vagabonds. What drove them to such desperate measures, it is difficult to say at this time. Rest assured, gentle reader, that the Sentinel, "Ever Vigilant," will continue to pursue the truth!

In Memoriam

by Oliver Milhouse

Joint services will be held on Wednesday January 26, 1876 at 9:00 am at the Paiute Springs Church for Ole Svensson, Thomas Mowry, Janine Squarrels, and Matthew King, victims of the Cannibal Night Massacre.  

Skull-Faced Stranger Leads Assault on Town!

by Oliver Milhouse

Quiet Sunday worship in Paiute Springs, Nevada was interrupted this week by a strange man who entered the local church in the middle of our own Reverend Timothy Gage's sermon on "turning the other cheek." The stranger, whose visage was covered by a broad-brimmed hat and a handkerchief, strode slowly down the aisle of the house of worship with shock onlookers looking agape.

The stranger then stops a few feet from the pulpit and cocks back his hat and removes his handkerchief. At this point, it was difficult for your intrepid reporter to get a good look, but whatever her saw made the good Revered faint dead away. Then the stranger turned his visage on us and, friends, I have to say what I saw was unnerving to say the least.

His face was like a weathered skull with only a few leathery bits of muscle holding the jaw in place. His empty eye sockets were filled with an eldritch green glow. A single gold tooth gleamed in the man's ghastly permanent smile. Friends and neighbors, I am not ashamed to say that my knees buckled and my guts turned to water at the sight.

Then he spoke: "Tim always did run piss yella'. That's alright. I'll come back later." Then he strode slowly back down the aisle toward the exit.  

Needless to say there was must consternation at that man's appearance in the house of the Lord. However, I found very few congregants willing to discuss their reactions to the stranger. More's the pity. Only through shared experience can we learn and grow as a community.

Was it an elaborate mask the man wore? Theatrical make-up? An affectation to instill fear in enemies, much like our Indian neighbors? The eccentricity of a madman? I cannot say, only speculate. All we know is that fear seems to be the calling card of this stranger who seems intent on calling out our good Reverend for intended violence.

Eyewitness reports put the same stranger in the belfry of the church during the cannibal attack this morning. Throughout the assault on our town, the stranger called out for "Tim," referring to him as "lily-livered," "a deserter," "disloyal" and a "traitor." He also said "They that sow the wind shall reap the whirlwind! And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light!"

After all of the cannibals were dispatched, the stranger made his way out of town, but not before announcing that he'd be back tomorrow at noon to "call Tim Gaught out once and for all."

Friends, to have a stranger such as this in our fair town and this assault occur at the same time is simply a coincidence that beggars the mind. No, the stranger and the cannibals are clearly connected—nay, it is this reporter's opinion that this stranger is the ringleader of that gang. That his actions in the church belfry signaled their attack.

What motivates this stranger and his gang of flesh-eaters? Clearly revenge of some sort against this "Tim Gaught." But who's Tim Gaught? Your dogged reported has yet to uncover a Tim Gaught residing in Paiute Springs. And what connection does any of this have with our good Reverend, for whom the stranger clearly has it out? Rest easy, gentle reader. The Sentinel will shine its light on these mysteries soon enough.

Town Elders Hole Up In Hotel

by Oliver Milhouse 

In the aftermath of the massacre of our beloved town by cannibals this morning, a meeting of prominent citizens—and one noted stranger—took place at the Prince Royal Arms early this morning. In attendance were the Honorable John Paul ("J. P.") Jefferson, mayor of Paiute Springs, "Doc" Glenn Fabry, Town Marshal Lila Kemzey, our own Reverend Timothy Gage, local inventor Miss Geraldine Keeler, and finally Mr. Roland Dupre late of New Orleans, who proved himself an able hand with a gun during the troubles.

In defiance of the principles of a Free Press, public disclosure, and common courtesy, this reporter was denied access to said meeting by Mayor J. P. Jefferson. In no uncertain terms, I was told to "Go home." The fact is, Mr. Mayor, I am home. Paiute Springs is my home. The truth is my home. And I will not be deterred!

What is obvious is that these principals are discussing the response to this stranger's threat. What is not obvious is the form the response can take. Will the town be hiring young Mr. Dupre as a gunman? Will Miss Keeler be formulating some sort of infernal device to protect the town from cannibals? Will J. P. Jefferson do anything to protect his chances for re-election in the next cycle? All of these are on the table at this point. Rest assured, gentle reader, that when the truth emerges, the Sentinel will be there to report it!

 

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Strange Lights To the North
January 23, 1876

The Paiute Springs Sentinel

January 23, 1876
"Ever Vigilant, A Beacon of Truth!"
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Strange Lights To The North

by Oliver Milhouse

Prospectors have reported seeing strange lights to the north of town. Speculation is running rampant as to the source of the weird illuminations. Some attribute them to meteor showers, others say they're the result of too much drink on the part of the prospectors. All agree that the source of the light is many miles from the town. Town Marshal Lila Kemzey reports that if they turn out to be anything more than will o' the wisps, rest assured, she'll round up a posse and check them out. Otherwise, she urges citizens to keep calm and mind their own beezwax. Be sure that your Ever Vigilant Sentinel will keep you posted!

 

It's a Girl!

by Oliver Milhouse

Roman and Francis Farrabee have had their first child, a beautiful daughter by the name of Esme. All are welcome to the baby's christening ceremony at the Paiute Springs Church on January 30. Let's show them some support!

Local Songbird Soars

by Oliver Milhouse

Our very own Ginny Lindstrom, whose velvet tones we have all enjoyed at our esteemed Mayor's Prince Royal Arms restaurant, has secured a permanent contact with Alvin Marstrand Players. This troupe of entertainers, if you recall, visited our fair town, just two weeks hence and plied us with their sounds of the East and South.  They were apparently quite struck with our Ginny and we couldn't be prouder. Be sure and catch Ginny's final performance at the Prince Royal on January 29 at 8 o'clock.

Alas, Alas

by Oliver Milhouse

Jack Harrington's mule, Otis, is no more. The poor beast just keeled over last Tuesday morning while hauling Jack's milk cart. No funeral arrangements have been announced.

Tilden to Join Race

by Oliver Milhouse

New York governor Samuel Tilden is reputed to be joining the race for President against our incumbent,  Ulysses S. Grant. The election, slated for November of this year, has a lot riding on it—no less than the fate of our war-torn nation. Tilden, a proponent of the "peace" movement which advocates for a more reconciliatory stance with the Confederacy, is thought to have long odds against our popular incumbent. Nevertheless, the war has dragged on for some time and some seek a change. As for the Sentinel, we'll take a "wait and see" attitude before issuing an endorsement.

Dear Aunt Sally…

by Sally Mae Baumgarten

Dear Aunt Sally, I can't seem to get rid of my corns. No matter what I do, they come right back. Mama told me to put corn flour on them, but that didn't work. What can I do? — S.

Dear S, the best remedy for corns that I have come across is take a rough stone—like pumice—and really grind down that rascal. Then soak your feet in hot water for a little while. Afterward, put some castor oil on the corns. You should start getting some relief soon enough — Yours, Aunt Sally.

Dear Aunt Sally, how do you get boys to ask you to dance. Asking for my lily-livered sis. — A.

Dear A, the best way to get boys to ask you to dance is a winning smile. Practice your smile in front of a mirror until you get it down pat. Be welcoming, but not tempting. Be friendly, but not forward. A good smile opens many doors. And be nice to your sister. — Yours, Aunt Sally.

 

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