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quinlanhyde 2008-05-06 05:12 pm UTC (link)

Quinlan had been up bright and early that morning, since sunrise, at least. Maybe a little earlier. He wasn't ever one to sleep in.. though, the idea was nice, he just never felt like he had time! Even when he did. He'd spent most of the morning printing up the last pages of the paper and putting everything together before he bundled them up and took a good thirty minutes or so loading them into the delivery wagon. He probably set out around noon to deliver the papers to the people, in the town, that wished to take in the news of New Shelby. Once he had finished delivering the papers and taking his horse back to the stable, he decided to hurry out and stop by the saloon to get a drink before Miss Margaret May Austin stopped by later that afternoon to pick up her maps she'd asked him to print for her classes. Carrying his jacket, he set his bowler hat atop his head and adjusted his glasses on the walk over to The Heel Kicker. He'd opted to leave his sleeves rolled up, since it was a rather hot day. He figured no one would care. He did bring his jacket just in case he needed to look decent for anything. Stopping just at the front steps of the Saloon, Quinlan glanced to the scruffy looking man that was perched just outside the doors and nodded with acknowledgement, "Good afternoon," He briefly glanced down to look at his pocketwatch, checking the time, before tucking it back into the pocket of his vest, and looking back to the other man. (Reply to this) (Thread)

__thursday 2008-05-06 05:44 pm UTC (link)

Mid-thought interruption. Not quite as irritating as mid-dinner interruption, but it vexed him just the same. He removed a match from his inner coat pocket, nestled right above his heart (where all firestarters should be,) and scraped it against the leg of the bench to light it. He looked over at the rather annoyingly exuberant fellow with the bowler hat (nothing worse than a bowler hat) and shook his head. Disappointment. He really needed a sign to post wherever he went. 'Rabid! Proceed at own risk!' He hovered the lit end of the match over his pipe and puffed a few times until it caught, then he waved the match and tossed it to the dirt. "What's good about it?" It was an afternoon. Who was to say whether it was good or bad? And who was it supposed to be good for? Him? Or Mr. Blind Bowler Hat? Seven thought about it for a moment. And even though he was probably trying to pick a fight, he was so very talented at that, he decided that it was somewhat insulting to assume that the afternoon was good for everyone. But Bowler Hat was probably just obnoxious like everyone else he'd met in this town so far. Not that this would stop Seven from using the same pleasantry in the future. He would. He just needed a good excuse to dislike the man. Even though the bowler hat would have sufficed. The man was looking at his watch. Seven hoped that he was late. (Reply to this) (Parent)

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quinlanhyde 2008-05-06 06:00 pm UTC (link)

"Aye.. well.." He shrugged, looking around. There weren't too many people out in the streets. Just a few. It was 2:27. Most were still at work or at school. He'd just locked up his shop to deliver the papers and grab a quick drink. "It just is?" He offered the man a pleasant smile as he turned back. "The weather's nice.. a little hot.. but," he shrugged, "Nothing too bad." No, Quinlan wasn't late to anything. In fact, he was making very good time. Stepping up onto the porch of the Heel Kicker Saloon, he switched his jacket to his other arm, draping it over carefully, as to not wrinkle it too much. He started over to Seven and extended his hand to the man, "I'm Quinlan Hyde. I own the town press?" He nodded, "I haven't seen you around. When did you arrive in New Shelby, Mister---?" Well, he assumed the brooding man would at least finish his sentence for him and introduce himself. But.. Maybe Quinlan was just being the hopeful Irishman that he was. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

__thursday 2008-05-06 06:12 pm UTC (link)

It just is. Was this guy serious? Seven held back the urge to roll his eyes and leave. He hated incompetent people. Even more so, he hated people who were cheerful for no apparent reason. What about life was so wonderful that some people felt the need to be happy and full of glee at all hours of the day? Seven would never know. Then again, most people wouldn't find that at all surprising. But maybe Mr. Bowler Hat was just, well, you know. "Are you sure?" About owning the press, that is. The man seemed a little confused. Then again, maybe it was just the way his eyes looked behind those bottle rims. But more likely it was just Seven's demeanor putting the man offguard. Seven had the tendency to do that to people. Strangers and known acquaintances alike. "Smith. Seven Thursday Smith. You can call me Smith. Arrived here on the first. Can't say that I've had the opportunity to read your paper. Is it any good? Or should I just save myself the ten cents and buy a soda?" He highly doubted it. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

quinlanhyde 2008-05-07 12:45 am UTC (link)

Well, it just was! So there. And yes, Quinlan was very serious. Though, he'd obviously disagree on the being incompetent part of Seven's thoughts. And to be truthfully honest, Quinlan wasn't full of glee or cheerful all hours of the day. However, on this particular day, Mister Quinlan Hyde was feeling more chipper than usual! It was a good day. He narrowed his eyes a bit, focusing in on Mr. Smith, and then he nodded, "Aye. I am. Very sure. Thank you." And with a name like that, of course he wanted to go by Smith. Who the hell named this poor man? No wonder he was so angry all the time. "Well, Mister Seven Thursday Smith, sir.. The New Shelby Post is an award winning paper. But you're welcome to do what you like with your ten cents, regardless." Quinlan thought a moment before adding, "by the way, sir.. You have a very unique name." He nodded, "where did it originate?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

__thursday 2008-05-07 08:36 am UTC (link)

"From the calendar." Seven's parents were so very eloquent in their name deciding, weren't they? Quite creative. So clever! Oh hardly. Truth be told, there was a bad bout of tuberculosis that year, and they hardly expected that he would live since infants were so prone to getting ill out in the far pastures of nowhere back in those days. Even still in these days. Besides, his poor dear mother had to name six children before him. Eventually it was bound to happen that a sweet simple pioneer woman would run out of names. Naturally, there were only so many to go around. And his father shot down Daniel, Thomas, and Abel because of people he'd know back east in his childhood. He also argued over any more names from the bible because of their son Jeremiah who turned out to be nothing but indolent and tone deaf. So the Smith parents turned to the only other pieces of literature they had. The calendar and Poor Richard's Almanack. And Seven's mother sorely detested any name with the word poor in front of it. So Richard was out of the question. So, logically, they just chose the day he was born. And Seven thanked god that it hadn't been Wednesday or Saturday. "As for Smith, well, I daresay that's rather common." His back teeth chewed on the end of his pipe for a moment before he removed it so that he could speak more clearly. He thought about picking apart Quinlan's name, but that was too easy. So he opted to go along with this mundane pleasantry. If just for a bit. "Award winning, you say?" Though he couldn't imagine who was handing out the awards. How far away was the nearest town? Fifty miles? One hundred? But far be it for Seven to belittle someone's pride and joy. Heh. Right. "Tell me. Does it have a section on real estate? I'm thinking about buying up some property around here. Is there anything for sale? Or will I just have to go knocking on front doors to find out?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

quinlanhyde 2008-05-07 10:05 am UTC (link)

Quinlan grinned and nodded, "I had a feeling, sir!" Quinlan rather liked the man's name. As common and perhaps thought of not being creative as some might think it was, Quinlan found it to be very unique. "I bet you're the only Seven Thursday in the whole United States," he casually motioned to the other man, "Maybe even the world, aye?" He chuckled, nodding again at Seven's comment on his last name. "True, it is... but a very strong one." So the man ought to be proud! ...Right? "And yes, sir," Quinlan nodded, "Award winning. Best publication this side of California for it's up-to-date news, advertising section, dedication, and clarity according to the Governor of the state. Mr. MacNamara," He paused and felt like he ought to explain, "He's the gentleman the press was named after... He passed away not too long ago; But Mr. MacNamara had to do a lot to get the paper considered. He did, though. That's what he wanted, so he made it happen. Not sure how he managed that.. but he did." Quinlan shrugged, thinking on it, himself. Mr. MacNamara did go out of town for a few months a few years back. Perhaps it was then. Shaking his head, Quinlan snapped out of his thoughts and smiled, "Oh, of course, sir." He nodded, "There's a whole advertisement section with a specific block for real estate. Land is very important to have listed. At least in my opinion. Are you looking for some land outside of town... or closer to the strip, here? ..or?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

__thursday 2008-05-07 10:19 am UTC (link)

On the continuing comments of his name, Seven merely raised an eyebrow and kept his expression of blank vexation. And he thought Milly was obnoxious sometimes. This fellow certainly had one up on her. Actually, they'd probably be perfect for each other. Two hopelessly pathetic fools. Seven briefly considered the thought of asking Mr. Bowler Hat if he'd be willing to purchase his daughter. For a reasonable fee, of course. To do with her what he wished. And if nothing else, she could sweep the front stoop of his business every morning and wash dishes. Nah. Even that was probably too cruel for Seven. Well, for the time being anyway. And why he was receiving a history lesson on the formation of the local times, he wasn't sure. But perhaps that sort of knowledge would prove fruitful in the future. One never knew. "Sounds like an upright and honorable gentleman," he said, in a dry tone. Too avoid sounding too sarcastic. Because now he was a little bit interested. Just a bit! Because now the man was talking about his second favorite thing in the world: Land. Second only to oil, of course. "Is the strip available?" Then he'd buy it up and drive all of these sorry people out of town. Shelby would be a far nicer place then. "Anything really. So long as it's ... not useful for farming." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

quinlanhyde 2008-05-07 10:39 am UTC (link)

"Oh, he was. Very much so." Quinlan nodded, "taught me everything there is to know about the paper business." Smirking, Quinlan shook his head, "No, sir.. The strip isn't available at this time. At one point, right after I became assistant manager of the press, the area from the West side of Inn and on was available for sale..." His brows furrowed in thought, "Although.. I think one of the older gentlemen of the town purchased it up right quick." "But I think there may be a portion still available. You might contact the agency in which the strip is listed under?" Quinlan shrugged; he didn't know a whole lot about real estate. He just advertised it. He pointed to the man, "Now.. there is a couple of acres that a gentleman has listed... He mentioned it's not the best for farming. But it's just outside of town." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

__thursday 2008-05-07 10:58 am UTC (link)

"I see." Not as helpful as Seven had hoped, but he did wonder if those few acres outside of town were the same that Miss Wycliffe had spoken of. And if not, all the better. For that would be two significant properties that he could possibly extend from the Cunningham Ranch. Why have one oil derrick, after all, if you could have two. Or three. Or four! All assuming that there was even anything under this godforsaken dirt. He still hadn't dug deep enough to break through, but he was close. Tomorrow maybe. Or the next day. And it better prove to have been worth his while. The oil business was a lot of work. And when it didn't show profit ... Well, that was a lot of wasted money. And Seven hated to waste money. "Well, I guess I'll just have to consider all of that." He was really wanting that sandwich now. "And if a man wanted to advertise for labor in your paper, how much would that cost?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

quinlanhyde 2008-05-07 04:00 pm UTC (link)

Quinlan gave a bit of a smile and nodded as he studied the other man very carefully. The guy was much bigger than he was... Scruffier. Scarier. Meaner, too, it seemed. Though, Quinlan didn't like to jump to conclusions. It seemed like the guy was juding him. Sizing him up. For what purposes, Quinlan really didn't know, nor did he care to. The guy was intimidating, actually. Very intimidating. He wondered if he had any reason to actually fear this man, but he wasn't able to figure that one out, just yet. "Aye, well you ought to, sir," Quinlan gave another nod. "It all depends, really. There are a few options. but I'd say no more than thirty-five cents. And even that's pushing it a little. The average cost is around fifteen to twenty cents, sir." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

__thursday 2008-05-07 04:27 pm UTC (link)

"Thirty-five cents?" Seven had purchased land for less than six dollars an acre, and this man was charging thirty-five cents to advertise in the local paper?! Seven would rather send Milly around town to tell everyone what it was he was advertising. It was cheaper and he could trust that Milly would tell everyone if he told her to. Not everyone read the newspaper after all. Not that he was trying to sound like a frugal man. He wasn't. But thirty-five cents! That was a crime. And he would know a lot about crimes of money. "Perhaps I'm in the wrong business." Thirty-five cents indeed. Even fifteen cents was pushing it. It was probably a result of that damn war. Inflation and all. Things were going up, up, up! And quality, for the most part, was going down, down down. "But I guess it's a good thing we got to meet. You being the source of this town's daily information and such. I suppose you'd be the man to see about anything new going on. You'd probably know best about strangers coming around and things like that." Seven wasn't trying to come right out and say it, but there was only one thing he could be insinuating. At least in his mind. Quinlan might not understand. But -- Speculators. He needed to snatch up as much of this area as possible before the speculators started coming in for the big oil industries. Union. Standard. Oh, he had a special kind of hate for Standard. But they weren't here now, were they? No, they weren't. Only Seven was here. And hopefully, that's how it would stay. "You lived here all your life, Mr. Hyde?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

quinlanhyde 2008-05-07 04:45 pm UTC (link)

Quinlan smirked and shook his head, "I'm kidding, sir." he snorted a bit. yes, he snorted. "There's no way in hell I'd be allowed to charge that much for a nespaper." He eyed the man, "Unless it did cost you all of your ten cents you referred to earlier. We aren't New York, sir. The paper, here, has never cost more than Five cents. If you go to The general store to pick one up, you'll find that it would only cost you four cents to purchase an entire publication of The New Shelby Tribune." He nodded with a smirk, "So in actuality," He reached up to adjust his glasses, pushing them back up onto the bridge of his nose, "an advertisement would never cost more than that. I generally charge three to five cents. It would only make sense. Like I said, it depends on your wording, and whether or not you wish to use any artwork with your advertisement." Quinlan quirked an interested brow, "oh? and what business are you in, Mister Smith?" "Aye, that I am. I am usually fairly up-to-date on the town news and strangers coming around whatnot." Quinlan really hadn't put two and two together so he didn't catch on. "Not all of my life, sir. Just since I was ten. Moved here from Ireland. Been stuck here ever since." He nodded. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

__thursday 2008-05-07 05:14 pm UTC (link)

Oh. He was Irish. Well, that certainly explained a lot, didn't it? At least the poor fellow couldn't be entirely to blame for his annoying behavior. He was partly born with it. But that was just Seven being prejudice. And it wasn't that he only had discontent against the Irish. There were other races he didn't like either. Most of them, actually. It was just that he'd never met an Irishman that he'd gotten along with. So he tended to lump them all into one big category. Three to five. That was better. Did he hear that wrong? Perhaps he needed to get his ears checked. Maybe being around too many loud derricks was beginning to wear on his hearing. He shook his head and blinked a few times, rattling out the confusion. "I am in the oil business." The only business worth being in, as far as Seven was concerned. And unless Quinlan was going to question him on it further, that was about all he was going to say on the subject. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

quinlanhyde 2008-05-08 02:15 pm UTC (link)

[I lost this tag! Sorry!] Oh, yes... Quinlan Hyde was very Irish and proud of it! Even if he was English too.. But he was Irish-born. And personally, he didn't think of himself as annoying! But then... most annoying people didn't. No, Mr. Smith hadn't heard it wrong. Quinlan was just pulling his leg. But if the man thought he was losing his hearing... well.. Quinlan wouldn't say otherwise! His brows lifted with interest, "Oil business, eh?" he smirked and nodded, "That's a good business to be in, isn't it?" He studied the man, "So are ya lookin' for oil here, then? That's why ya want the land, aye?" he chuckled, "have you had any luck, Mister Smith?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

__thursday 2008-05-08 09:02 pm UTC (link)

"It can have its moments." Both good and bad moments. Drilling was a dangerous profession, and Seven insisted on being a part of the entire oil process. From land speculating to drilling to selling. From beginning to end. Seven liked to be in control of everything. Of course, that didn't stop him from getting angry at his employees when something went wrong. Even though he was the overseer. He couldn't be at a well twenty-four hours a day. He was obsessed, but he wasn't insane. At least, not completely insane. But now Mr. Bowler Hat was asking a lot of questions. A lot of questions that he didn't want to see posted in the next edition of the Shelby Post or whatever it was called again. "Are you asking me as a casual acquaintance or as a newspaper man?" The last thing he wanted was for the award-winning paper to announce to the world that Seven Thursday Smith was drilling in New Shelby. That would drag all of the ruffians out of the woodwork. The town would be hounded by oil men. And Seven would have to fight for the land that right ought to be his. He'd gotten there first, after all. "Maybe I'm just looking for a nice place to raise a family." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

quinlanhyde 2008-05-09 11:44 am UTC (link)

"Aye," he chuckled, "Well, anything can." Quinlan was just a curious man was all. He honestly wasn't looking to cause any trouble. Which was why he was taken aback somewhat by the man's question. "oh! As a casual acquaintance, sir." he chuckled, "you have my word, Mister Smith, sir." He nodded, "Aye. A family. Have one, do you?" He smiled, "are they here now? Or will you bring them over if you find any oil here, in New Shelby?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

__thursday 2008-05-12 08:02 am UTC (link)

"I'm here with my daughter. And I'm speculating on one particular plot of land, yes. As to its fruitfulness, that has yet to be decided." And that was just about as much as Seven wanted to comment on those queries. If there was oil to be found on the Cunningham Ranch then there might be oil on other ranches or plots of land. Or even in the middle of the town square! But he wouldn't want the poor people of New Shelby to get any big heads about the issue and start recalculating the worth of their property. Seven could afford more expensive plots, if he had to. But he preferred to get them cheap. But that was the mantra of most business men. Seven leaned back a bit on the bench, pressing himself against the front of the saloon. He took another few puffs on that pipe, followed by an almost neurotic chewing of the mouth piece before he removed it and set it upon his leg. "Well, it was most certainly a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Hyde. If I need anything advertised I now know the man to go to. And that is definitely a convenience." Seven's not-so-nonchalant way of saying that he was finished with their conversation. Time for the man and his ridiculous headwear to move on. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

quinlanhyde 2008-05-13 12:50 am UTC (link)

"Oh, you have a daughter, sir?" Quinlan's brows lifted with interest and it caused him to smile, learning that this brooding sort of fellow had a family of his own. Or at least a relative. A child. Quinlan nodded, "Aye, sir, I understand. But yes, there are plenty of advertisements in the paper, including land for sale. You ought to take a look." He smirked and reached up to set his bowler hat back on his head. He had no idea the scruffy man despised it. Quinlan extended his hand to the Oil man, "And it was a pleasure meeting you, Mister Smith." he nodded and offered the man a pleasant smile, "Perhaps I'll see you around the shop, then, sometime." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

__thursday 2008-05-14 03:19 pm UTC (link)

"Yes. But she's as stubborn as a mule. Hardly worth your time. Or anyone else's for that matter." Ah, yes. Seven was so sympathetic when it came to matters of family. Poor Milly. If she only knew what he said about her. Then again, sometimes he said things about her in front of her. Words that would verge on cruel, but he was so skilled at manipulating her that it hardly even mattered anymore. "I'll be sure to purchase the next edition then. If for no other reason than to amuse myself with the large lettering." He mocked the paper, but he would buy it. For now he was curious and slightly impressed. Perhaps New Shelby wasn't as small town and cut off as he had originally perceived. Without too much regret or forced politeness, Seven took Quinlan's hand and gave it a good shake. "I'm sure the pleasure was all mine." Now, that was a little on the sarcastic side. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

quinlanhyde 2008-05-15 08:09 pm UTC (link)

He chuckled with a snort, "Oh, sir.. I didn't mean it like that.. I was just interested in the fact that a man like yourself would have a family." He motioned to him, "You seem very invested in your business.. Well, your enthusiasm and thoughts anyway. I just didn't imagine you would have time. But that's a wonderful thing, sir. And I'm sure she's worth someone's time..." He nodded and offered the man a smile. Quinlan quirked a brow, but nodded at the man's comment about the newspaper, "Aye, sir.. Well, be sure you do! I assure you that you won't be disappointed. It's a great publication." He grinned a bit and returned the man's handshake before letting go and dropping his hand back at his side. "Well, I don't know about that, sir," he chuckled, "But indeed, it was pleasant to meet you." He reached up to tip his Bowler Hat somewhat, "Have a good day, Mister Smith. I do look forward to seeing you again." He nodded and continued inside the Saloon to grab a drink before he turned in for the evening. (Reply to this) (Parent)