Itchy Mitch and the Taming of Broken Jaw Junction

by Duane L. Ostler

  Chapter 4 - How a Flower Turned the Saloon into a School

 

  Broken Jaw Junction once again was a quiet place, now that Itchy Mitch had restored law and order. Since he had faced down Bad Bart, Big Tom and the Knife Man, the local trouble makers didn’t dare stir up any more problems, since they knew they would land in jail if they did. The undertaker moved to Kansas City (where there were more killings and he could get more business), the horse salesman started selling salad dressing door to door (he decided if you can’t lick ‘em, join ‘em), and the saloon keeper got rid of his rigged roulette tables and trick cards, and reluctantly started running an honest business. It looked like peace had come to town to stay.

  Now that Broken Jaw Junction had a reputation for being peaceful and law abiding, women and children started coming to town, along with the regular swarm of gold seekers. And it wasn’t long until some of the new women in town started stirring up more trouble than all the lawbreakers combined.

  The first thing they did was to form a Ladies Aid Society, which had the chief goal of giving free soup to starving gold miners (the ones that couldn’t find any gold—and there were a lot of them!) This made the mayor and council members mad because the women forced them to come up with the money to pay for all the soup, and that cut into their profits. But of course they couldn’t do anything about it, since there is nothing in this world—not even galoots like Bad Bart or Big Tom—that is more frightening than a determined member of the Ladies Aid Society.

  The mayor and council members were so upset they even thought about joining with the saloon keeper to find a way to get rid of Itchy Mitch and restore lawlessness—to drive out the Ladies Aid! But before they could come up with a plan on how to do it, the Ladies Aid themselves suddenly had a disagreement with Mitch that looked like it would drive him out without any outside help.

  This is how it happened. One of the first things the Ladies Aid decided was that Broken Jaw Junction needed to have a school. But when they looked into it, they were surprised to find that the old town (before gold had been discovered) did have a school—which now was the saloon! It had been left deserted and empty after all the old-time residents had moved out of town. Then the saloon keeper had come to town, who decided to just take over the abandoned school even though he didn’t own it, and use it as his saloon rather than build a new one!

  When the Ladies Aid found this out, they were mighty upset. They approached the mayor and town council about it, who (reluctantly) agreed that the school had been wrongly taken over by the saloonkeeper and needed to be restored to being a school. However, they unanimously agreed that the Ladies Aid should be the ones to tell the saloon keeper to make the change since they all came up with a reason (or excuse) for being too busy to go do it themselves.

  When the Ladies Aid approached the saloon keeper, he just laughed in their faces. “Finders, keepers!” he said gleefully. “That’s the law here in the west. I found this building abandoned and decided to move in. It’s mine now, and you can’t move me out, or that would be stealing-from me! Nothing you can do or say is going to make me move out of here.” Then he slammed the door in their faces and laughed long and loud while the ladies stood there fuming.

  That is when the Ladies Aid came to Mitch. Three of them stormed up to him while he was watering his cucumber plants in front of the sheriff’s office.

  “Sheriff Mitch!” said the one who was in charge, “we have a case of lawlessness to report!”

  Mitch calmly put down his watering can and stood up to face them.

  “The town school has been turned into a saloon, and we need for you to turn it back!”

  Now this is the first time Mitch had heard of this whole affair, and like most people he was surprised to hear that Broken Jaw Junction actually used to have a school.

  “Have you talked to the saloon owner about it?” he asked.

  “Yes!” she replied with a sniff of disdain. “All he said was ‘finders keepers.’ But that makes no difference. We expect you’ll have him out and the school restored by the end of the day!” Then, without another word, the three ladies walked stiffly away.

  Mitch silently watched them go. Then he calmly put his watering can back in his office and walked over to talk to the saloon owner. But when he did, he got the same answer as the Ladies Aid.

  “Finders keepers!” the saloon keeper said with glee. “I haven’t broken the law—but you will if you force me to leave. This place is mine by the law of abandonment, and there is nothing you can do about it!” And then the saloon keeper laughed long and hard in Mitch’s face, which is something he had long wanted to do.

  Now Mitch was worried. He went back to his office and pulled the black book “How to be a Small Town Sheriff” off the shelf. But what he found in its pages didn’t give him much comfort. Then he looked through all the old deeds and land records, to see if any of them had anything to do with the saloon property. He didn’t find a thing.

  “I’m sorry ladies,” he told members of the Ladies Aid later that day. “According to the laws that I have seen, the law of ‘finders keepers, losers weepers’ is still in force if there isn’t a written deed to the property, and there is no deed to the school that I could find. It says so right in my sheriff’s manual. I can’t see a legal way to take the saloon back and turn it into a school.”

  The women’s faces turned purple. “Nonsense!” they screamed. “You can’t tell us that a dirty, low down saloon keeper is going to keep our school and use it as a saloon! Either you get that saloon back or we’ll make sure you’re fired as sheriff, and someone is hired who will do the job!” And then they ran right off to complain to the mayor and town council about how Mitch was not a good sheriff and should be fired.

  After talking it over, the mayor and council decided to give Mitch three weeks to resolve the problem, or he would be fired. And then they gleefully started planning how to spend all the extra money they would be getting once he was gone and lawlessness was restored, which would chase out the Ladies Aid (since they would no longer have to buy soup for starving miners). When the saloon keeper found out about what the mayor and council had done, he was so happy he gave them all free drinks at his saloon for the whole three whole weeks. It looked like he was finally going to get his way and see Itchy Mitch driven out of Broken Jaw Junction because of the Ladies Aid.

  The light in the sheriff’s office was on late into the night after all this had happened. Most people thought it was because Mitch was either packing to leave, or trying to figure out where to go. It seemed the Ladies Aid had accomplished what Bad Bart, Big Tom and the knife man had failed to do, and once again the bets were flying through town—not about whether Mitch would leave, but when!

  The next day, Mitch walked over to talk to the saloon keeper. “Mr. Saloon keeper,” he said as soon as he arrived, “I’ve come to ask that you give up your saloon and let it go back to being a school.”

  “Hah!” cried the saloon keeper. “You must be crazy. Like I told you yesterday, this place is mine fair and square, and I intend to keep it.” Once again, he laughed in Mitch’s face, something he greatly enjoyed doing.

  “Well,” replied Mitch, “I might have to drive you out, to keep the peace.”

  “If you do that, you’ll be breaking the law, and then I’ll send for the state marshals to come and take you to jail!” said the saloon keeper with a big smile on his face.

  “Well, now” replied Mitch, “it may be true that there is a law about ‘finders keepers,’ but your taking over this school and turning it into a saloon is still kind of shady. I’m not sure your operation here, with all these roulette tables has been completely honest and law abiding.”

  The saloon keeper gulped nervously. Had Mitch heard about how the roulette tables used to be rigged, so he could cheat the gold miners out of their money?

  But then he smiled again. “You can’t prove it,” he replied ha
ughtily. “And you can’t kick me out of here legally either!”

  “I’m not so sure,” replied Mitch, scratching his chin. “I’ve talked to a few miners in town that have told me they were cheated out of money here. If you’re running an illegal gambling joint, I could shut you down. Then the building would be empty.”

  The saloon keeper gulped again. But he wasn’t about to lose his beautiful saloon that easy.

  “You’re going to have to prove it, to get me out,” he replied. “I still say I haven’t done anything wrong. You don’t have any evidence, and you can’t get any!”

  Mitch looked at him long and hard, while rubbing his jaw. Then he said, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll make a deal with you. I won’t try to shut you down for illegal gambling as long as you let me keep a flower in your saloon.”

  The saloon keeper looked at Mitch blankly as if he thought Mitch had completely lost his mind. “A what?!” he said.

  “Just a little flower,” replied Mitch casually. “Nothing to get excited about. I’ll just keep it on one of your tables, and come in and water it everyday. That’s all.”

  Now it was the saloon keeper’s turn to scratch his chin and wonder what this was all about. But try as he might, he couldn’t think of anything harmful about a flower sitting on one of his tables in the saloon. It might even prove to be an interesting conversation piece, as everyone tried to figure out why it was there, and make fun of Sheriff Mitch in the process.

  “O.k., you’re on!” said the saloon keeper. “Go ahead and keep your flower. But just remember, me and my boys may shoot the petals off for target practice!”

  Mitch winced at the thought of one of his beloved plants being shot at. “Now, that’s not part of the deal,” he said firmly. “Remember, if you ever try to take the flower out or hurt it in any way you’ll have to give up your saloon. The flower stays and is unharmed, no matter what. That’s the deal.”

  “Fine, so the flower stays, unharmed,” replied the saloon keeper with a smirk. “Go ahead and keep your silly flower for all I care. Pick any table you want. Water it any time. But nothing you say or do will make me give up my saloon!”

  “Agreed,” said Mitch with a slight smile. Then he thanked the saloon keeper and said he’d be back the next day with the flower. After he was gone, the saloon keeper skipped and hopped all the way around his saloon, since he was so happy to have beaten Mitch at last. He was so excited that he declared it “Down with Sheriff Mitch Day,” and gave everyone free drinks.

  However, when the Ladies Aid found out about Mitch’s deal with the saloon keeper they were furious, and went straight to the mayor and town council to complain. “How dare he allow that low-down saloon keeper to hold onto his filthy establishment!” they cried. “You’ve got to fire him immediately, and hire someone who will get our town school back!”

  Trying his best not to smile with glee at what had happened, the mayor simply said, “now ladies, we made a promise to Mitch that he would have three weeks to restore the saloon to a school, before we fired him. We have to keep our word, you know.”

  The ladies just looked at him and the town council members with a gaze that would have melted stone. “You’re all as weak and spineless as Sheriff Mitch!” one of them said angrily. Then they all left in disgust, to the great relief of the mayor and town council, who had all started to feel rather hot under the collar.

  They weren’t much easier on Mitch. A group of them cornered him later that day while he was weeding his potato plants in front of the sheriff’s office.

  “We understand,” said one of them in an icy voice, “that you are letting that ruffian saloon keeper hold on to our school, and that all you have done is make the ridiculous request that he simply keep a flower in his saloon!”

  “How could you do such a thing!” exclaimed another.

  “Run the saloon keeper out of town!” cried a third. “After all, you’re the sheriff!”

  “Now, ladies,” replied Mitch in a calm voice, “I have to sustain the law. And it doesn’t look like the saloon keeper is exactly in violation of the law, although what he has done looks shady enough.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” cried several voices at once. “How can converting a school to a saloon not be against the law!”

  “Young man,” said the leader of the group stepping forward. “I have no doubt that keeping a flower in the saloon will improve its appearance. But that hardly will restore our school—which it is your duty to do!”

  “I’m sorry,” replied Mitch. “I’m trying to take care of the problem the best I can. Why don’t you give it some time? The saloon keeper may have a change of heart and give the saloon back.”

  “HAH!” cried several voices at once. “You are a spineless weakling who won’t do his duty! We’ll soon have you replaced!” Then they all left in a huff, while Mitch calmly went back to his weeding.

  The next day, true to his word, Mitch brought a flower to the saloon. It was a little green thing in a pot holder, and was not yet in bloom. “Which table do you want me to set it on?” he asked the saloon keeper.

  “Over there by the window,” cried one of the saloon keeper’s leering friends. “That way we can shoot at it from both outside and inside!”

  “An excellent idea,” said Mitch as everyone laughed. “It will get lots of sunshine by the window. But, remember,” he said, giving the saloon owner a sharp look, “you promised not to harm it in any way. So, no shooting at the petals!”

  The saloon keeper just smirked and shrugged. Then while everyone looked on and giggled, Mitch tenderly set the plant on the table and gave it some water from the watering can he had brought along. Then he left.

  In no time, Mitch’s flower was the biggest news in town. Everyone came to look at it—and to make fun of it, and of Mitch. There was a constant, gawking crowd in front of the saloon window, who came to see how (or if) it was growing. Bets were flying over whether it would survive in the smoke filled, questionable environment of the saloon.

  Meanwhile, the Ladies Aid made a daily complaint to the mayor and town council about how Mitch needed to be replaced. However, even though the mayor and his buddies trembled and started to sweat profusely every time the ladies came near, they stuck fast by their word that Mitch would have three weeks until he was fired.

  Everyday, amidst the jeers and catcalls of the watching saloon patrons, Mitch would visit the saloon and gingerly water his precious plant. He often spoke to it in low, soothing tones, much to the amusement of the saloon keeper and his friends. After he left, they would all gather round and speak to it some more, and it’s a good thing the poor plant couldn’t understand what they were saying.

  Finally, the memorable day came when the plant began to bloom. A passing, half-starved gold miner noticed it first, on his way up the street to a breakfast of soup at the Ladies Aid. In no time the news spread like wildfire through the town, and soon there was a larger crowd than usual gathered outside the saloon window. The saloon keeper—who had grown quite proud of ‘his’ flower, and all of the publicity it gave him—proudly placed a large book under the flower so people could see it better. (He also did this to aggravate the Ladies’ Aid, since the book he placed under the flower was an old school math book).

  But around noon of that day the patrons of the saloon began to notice a peculiar, unpleasant smell. It seemed to be more piercing and pungent than the usual smell of miners who hadn’t had a bath in several months, and it seemed to permeate the whole building. Even though most men who came to the saloon usually ignored the odors that drifted through the air from their fellow patrons, this new smell was bad enough that several of the men commented to the saloon keeper that he really ought to keep the place cleaner and free of odors. In order to not lose business, he promptly had the place mopped and scrubbed, and kicked out several of the stinkiest miners (one of whom boasted that he hadn’t had a bath since he was 10).


  But the smell did not go away. In fact, it got worse as the day wore on, until by sundown it was so bad that the few people still brave enough to stay in the saloon were going around with clothespins on their noses.

  It was about that time that one of the miners—a large fellow with a head cold, who couldn’t smell too well unless he was up close to things—discovered that the stench seemed to be coming from Mitch’s flower! For all its beauty, the flower smelled like rotten eggs, an old outhouse and decaying flesh all rolled into one! And it just kept getting stronger! By two hours after sundown not even clothespins helped with the smell any longer, and the only one left in the saloon was the saloon keeper.

  To say that the saloon keeper was mad at Itchy Mitch would be quite an understatement. He called Mitch every bad name known to man, and then made up a few more of his own. Then he stormed over to Mitch’s office and pounded on the door. “Sheriff Mitch!” he cried, as a crowd gathered to see what would happen. (They didn’t get too close though, since some of the flower’s smell had latched onto the saloon owner’s clothes). Mitch came to the door looking as calm as ever.

  “You low down, weasel!” cried the saloon keeper. “You skunk! (Actually, it was the saloon keeper who smelled like a skunk, since he had been in the saloon near the flower all day) “You trickster! That flower has got to go!”

  Mitch just smiled sweetly. “Don’t you like your Dracunculus Vulgarus?” he asked. “That’s its Latin name, you know. It’s English name is Dragon Arum. It pollinates by attracting flies with its stench, rather than bees. Isn’t it a fascinating flower?”

  The saloon keeper’s face was purple. He could hardly speak, but with a great effort, he said, “THAT BLASTED FLOWER IS GOING TO BE THROWN OUT TONIGHT!! IT’S RUINING MY BUSINESS!!”

  “That is too bad about your losing business,” said Mitch pleasantly. “But remember our deal. If you take that flower out of your saloon, or harm it in any way, you’ve got to let your saloon go back to being a school. The flower has got to stay.”

  After blustering and fuming and ranting and screaming for awhile, the saloon keeper finally left. He knew he was beaten. No one would come into his saloon as long as that stink flower was there, not even the stinkiest of the miners. So he knew there was no sense keeping the place any longer.

  The next day, he went and bought the makeshift shack the Ladies Aid were using to serve soup to starving gold seekers, and made it his new saloon. The Ladies Aid were so happy to get their school they were only too glad to let him have it at a low price. And the gold seekers were glad too, since now they could get something stronger than soup when they went to the old soup kitchen. (A few days later the Ladies Aid made the mayor and town council build them a new soup kitchen at the town’s own expense. The mayor and town council grumbled and complained about it of course, but they had no choice but to do it).

  And that is how Itchy Mitch converted the saloon back to a school with just an innocent, little flower. And that is also how he overcame the biggest threat he had yet faced as sheriff—the Ladies Aid.