The Shooting of Who?
by Conley Stone McAnally
Big Bear picked us up promptly at noon Indian time, which meant 3 P.M. We hopped aboard his customized three seat snowmobile and headed south. The trip was about three hours long and went over ridges, through the woods, and wound through valleys.
Just as the sun was setting I heard in the distance what could only be described as merriment. There was laughing and good natured shouting just above the roar of a piano playing a ragtime tune. As we crested the top of the last crest I spied in the valley below the Malamute Saloon with blazing yellow rays of light piercing the darkness through the windows.
As we entered the place the first thing that struck me was how similar it looked to the old western bars I had seen in movies and the ones that were in Tombstone. The next thing that struck me was that a lot of the men were whooping it up dancing to the kid in the corner playing the upright piano. The men were dancing by themselves, laughing and just having good natured fun.
In one corner there was a blackjack dealer with a white shirt, black armbands, and steely gray eyes. At the end of the bar stood a woman dressed as a dance hall girl, and behind the bar serving drinks was a guy dressed in a red and white stripped shirt with blue arm bands and matching bow tie.
As we seated ourselves the dance hall girl came to our table, introduced herself as Lou, the owner of the Malamute, turned to the bartender and yelled, "Put down your pad and pecil Bob and set'em up for my friends here, first one on the house."
We toasted each other, drank our shots of whiskey and another one was poured for the the three of us. I told Lou to leave the bottle and I through away the cork. I was determined to have fun and that this would be a night to remember. Never a truer thought was 'thunk.'
We watched the men dancing and eventually one of them came over to me and asked very politely if he could ask Bev to dance. I looked at Bev, she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. I said yes. For the next thirty minutes Bev was on the floor dancing her feet off.
While Bev was out on the floor I asked Big Bear who the menacing looking black jack dealer was. He was, he told me, Lou's latest conquest. Trouble is this guy it is said was the real jealous type and some considered him out right dangerous. His name was McGrew, Dan McGrew.
Bev returned to the table while the boy on the piano took a break. She said she had not danced that much since she left high school on the south side of Chicago or when she was a go go dancer with The Red Rubber Ball band. No sooner had she said that than the door flew open and in stormed a wild looking guy with a beard to the middle of his chest and hair down to the middle of his back. He looked like he was fresh from the mine fields or trap lines. He was dog dirty and ready for bear. His parka was glazed with dirt and opened at the front to expose a buckskin shirt, it too looking somewhat dirty.
He marched to the middle of the empty dance floor raised his hand over his head holding a pouch bulging from its contents and said, "Joe, give my friends a drink on me, and don't stop till I tell you to. I hit the mother load boys." A cheer came from the crowd and everyone gathered round him. Laughing, slapping him on the back, and congratulating him on his find.
I asked Big Bear who that guy was and Big Bear's only reply was that there is going to be some trouble and did not divert his eyes from the stranger.
During the celebration the stranger spotted the empty piano in the corner. He walked over to it and began to play, my God how that man could play. He didn't do ragtime or the popular tunes of the day, they were more of a classical bent. Lou ventured over to him and placed her hand on his shoulder in what looked like to me a very familiar fashion. I looked over to the blackjack table and old Dangerous Dan stiffened and glared in the direction of the stranger and Lou.
The stranger was a true musician because he seemed to lose himself in the ivories and his music touched your insides. The music eventually became haunting and thunderous and seemed to shout emotions that can only be described as having a touch of evil.
With a loud last crash of his paws on the keyboard he stood up and said,"you all know who I am and how long it has been since I have been here. You all respected my situation except for one of you. One of you is a low down hound from hell, wife steeling, no good bastard that takes advantage of the poor, the elderly and lonely women. That guy is Dan McGrew!
With the word McGrew the lights went out, men began to shout and two shots rang out in the dark. When the lights came back on Dangerous Dan McGrew was slumped over the blackjack table dead while the stranger lay beside the piano with his head resting in Lou's arms.
I was close enough to hear the stranger tell Lou, "See, I told you I would strike it rich and return to you." With that the stranger closed his eyes and died.
We all had to wait there till the state troopers arrived and it was a little unsettling Bev said dancing around the dead bodies but the sheets put over each man helped.
We were the first to give our statements as to what we had seen and were allowed to leave. On the way back to the cabin I asked Big Bear what was normally done in cases like this. He said that the officials make a half hearted attempt to find the man's relatives and usually with no positive results. Then the property goes to the state and then auctioned off. I asked how much the state would get for a really great gold mine and how they figured the exchange rate of all the gold the stranger had with him.
"They don't usually buy gold minds because most like our dead friend here are broke and no one knows where the strike was, it could have been any place. The Malamute was his first stop so he had not registered a claim. His 'mother load' will be like your Lost Dutchman Mine." What about the pouch of gold he had with him. "Well I am not as wise as a lot of the guys but I bet you that Lou has already ready provided that service."
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