February 1, 1885 -
Ohhh, my head. To say I feel like I have been accosted by a locomotive would be an understatement. It seems I have, again, been remiss in writing, so what follows are the high, and low lights of the last few weeks.
After a short stop in Pueblo, Colorado, where I received the honor of being photographed, we boarded a train and crossed the plains to Chicago. What a wonderful city! It has all of the comforts of the civilized metropolis' you find back east, but it still has the frontier elements that allow someone like myself to move freely between the cracks. Upon arriving we went to meet our contact, Yancey Fairchild. We met him at a little restaurant that serves something called pizza. It is basically a piece of Italian flat bread with tomato sauce and cheese spread on it. Then they put various meats on top of that and bake it. Not the worst thing in the world, but I can't see such a foreign tasting food catching on here in the good old US of A.
Anyway, we meet up with Mr. Fairchild and he tells us we are to meet the head of the Chicago Branch, Mr. Rusty Colgate, tomorrow morning. So the good Dr. Sanbell and I decide to take in the best that this fair city has to offer. And let me tell you what, it has allot to offer! We make our way to the nicest casino/saloon in town where we are greeted by a man named Fernando Giorgio, who has one of the finest suits I have ever seen. After a discussion of his tailor and cobbler he takes us to a table to play some cards. Here we were introduced to a man who runs the Chicago Mercantile Exchange named Meyer Laymen and a certain Rusty Colgate. After a pleasant evening of libation and other vices I headed off to bed.
The next morning I set out in search of Dewey MacLamore and Theodore Castle - Fernando's brilliant tailor and cobbler. After I place my order with them it's off to the Agency HQ to get info on this talisman or something. I am not quite sure. When we arrive, Colgate meets us outside and says we can't go in because something has happened and all the employees are acting "strange". Well, either Murphy or Gus decided the "right" thing to do was go and investigate, so we went in. I am in no way comfortable with the heroics of these two men. I fear that I will wind up quite dead because of their savior complex.
Once we enter, we realize that Colgate was underselling the behavior of his employees. There were people hiding under desks, and talking to people that they "saw" on the ceiling. To be fair even Murphy and myself got a little spooked. No pun intended. I cast a spell that provided a safe place for us to operate and we started putting the affected people in that space. That seemed to clear up their head a bit. Murphy found a room with some weird device that seemed to be causing all of this. He disabled it with his rifle, and then everything seemed to get back to normal. Of course, he couldn't wait till I was done perusing the restricted section of the library, but I suppose expediency was the right course of action.
Later that day, Gus approaches me and informs me that if we are to be taken seriously out on the frontier, then perhaps my traveling attire needs to be re-thought. Apparently, my "friends" thought it would be funny to make me look like a complete ass. When I think about that hat, and those ridiculous chaps . . . well, justice will be served. Just not yet. Regardless, I digress.
That evening, Murphy comes to us and says he has been approached by a member of the Theosophical Society about entrance. Of course, I am all for hearing the pitch. We go to a particular bar and there in front of me are star members of the White Stockings! Cap Anson, and Kelly, as well as their owner Spalding. I tried my best to convey how much the fine city of Baltimore would appreciate their services, but I'm not sure I got through. It was quite an honor to be sitting here with these men, OH! And Abner Doubleday was there. Gen. Doubleday himself! He is the Grand High Mucky Muck for this chapter I'm guessing. After a little more baseball talk, he starts in on his pitch. Something about Science and Truth and knowledge. To be honest, I didn't really listen. I am not sure how informed this group is in the ways of demon binding, but if they have access to older copies of the book, or access to powers greater than my own, I must find out, so I say "sign me up". Either I will be able to expand my power, or they will have nothing. If the latter holds true, then I will be their new master and I will have access group of devoted followers who just happen to be held in very high social esteem.
As the evening progresses we head back to some Theosophical headquarters and learn more. Doubleday intimates that they have old copies of the book here, and at this point I am ready to put my name on the line. Then Gus decides he has some trumped up issues about a church that doesn't even want him to be a member. That guy sure could benefit from a bad drunk and a good lay. After telling Doubleday that three of us are game, he tells us that the vetting will begin and we leave. This was a bit disappointing, to say the least. We stop in at a saloon and do quite nicely at the poker table. And I have the good fortune to be at the table with the Hon. Mayor of Chicago. We spend some time discussing the threats facing our great nation, and he seemed, to me, the type of man I could use in my fold. I will need to find a way to get a little more time with his honor.
This morning, I got up, and went to see Colgate. I asked to have my criminal history sealed and he said he would see what he could do. I figure if I am going to be playing cards with the Mayor and getting vetted by the high society type, I ought to hide as much of my past as possible. Then I brought up the Theosophical Society to Mr. Colgate and he became immediately apoplectic. Apparently the Society has been in the habit of stealing agents from him. I told him I would do my best to investigate what was occurring. After that I met up with the rest of the group to share what I had just learned. Murphy suggested we go back to the society and have a little chat.
When we arrived at the building we found it abandoned and emptied. Like nothing had been there at all. I suspect that the society knew we were agents all along and were hunting for us for some reason. Murphy decides we should go to an opium den to see if we can find any members for questioning. Now I couldn't let him walk into a den alone, so Sanbell and I went with him. I loaded my pipe and after that things get a little hazy. All I remember is this guy talking about the man who makes the bad dreams - Booth. I don't know quite what to make of all this yet.
The next thing I remember is gut wrenching pain, and a feeling like I wanted to climb out of my skin. Apparently Gus decided he would clear my head of the opium by stopping all of the toxins that were running through my body. Now that might not sound like much, but for a man who has spent the last decade always a little drunk, it was a living hell. After 10 years of whiskey for breakfast lunch and dinner, the real world looked frightening, to say the least. In addition, the pain in my body was immense, so Gus took mercy on me and did something to stop the pain. After that, I felt great, and wanted to go out for a drink. Gus then reminded me that I couldn't feel it because of the magic he had performed. That is when I got the best idea I had had in months. If I couldn't get drunk for the next 4 hours, then it seemed only right that I take advantage of that. Sanbell and I went out to find a drinking contest for usto scam.
And we found one! This little hovel of a bar, filled with the worst Chicago had to offer ended up putting up close to $7,000 for this contest. And as we are looking for an opponent, the biggest man in the room sits down to challenge me. The biggest man in the room being one Augustine Kestrall! That no good son of a bitch decided he was going to "teach me a lesson" and performed the same magic on himself! Needless to say, I fought hard, but could not beat that bastard. I passed out and the next thing I know I am here being slapped awake by Murphy, who smells strangely of smoke. I am not sure where the other two are, but once my head stops pounding, I have a few choice words for Mr. Kestrall! Now, however, I can't hardly keep my head off the pillow, so I set down my pen and end the story of the last few weeks events.
