Read A Matter of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 1) for Free Online

champagne, I pour out its contents. Using the shattered remains of another bottle as a scoop, I quickly gather up some of the evaporating goo that was my former adversary, pouring him into the emptied bottle. This here discarded hanky will have to make do as an improvised cork.
    Then I remember the girl, the catalyst of the past few minutes’ events. I fly back to the park, but she is nowhere to be found.
    With my bottle of bug goop in hand, I retrieve my hat, revolver and knife. My trusty tinder box ignites my old clay pipe to resume my smoke. The girl, or should I say, young lady, was quite striking. And familiar, somehow... perhaps I have seen her in a photograph...  Miss Persephone Plumtartt! Of course! Her newspaper image does not do her justice! Though I barely got a glimpse of her, I know it was she for this is an amazing woman to behold.
    Oh, gosh, I feel ashamed. I was amused at the ‘Ghost’ stories I had read. Now their reality is all too well proven to me. I deserve a double dose of shame for doubting the remarkable Plumtartt family.
    I reckon I have a tendency to quick reaction, sometimes. There have been many instances in my life where I have reacted to a situation with blinding speed. If I were being watched, a third party would have witnessed a couple of those episodes tonight.
    Some might refer to this as going off half cocked, or shooting from the hip, maybe acting without thinking.
    I tend to think it is a willingness to trust in my instincts.
    Not good versus bad, or smart as opposed to stupid, I tend to find my gut instinct leads me toward acting in a manner that deals in right and wrong.
    I sure did spoil the deal with Sir Henry Stanley tonight, though.
    Oh well, I really did not wanna give up my ‘Green Beauties’ anyhow.
    Miss Persephone Plumtartt. Wow. I barely got a look at her, but I could see straight away that she is as amazing in her beauty as she is in her character.
    It sure was a good thing that I didn’t sell my goggles, and happened to be there in the park, tonight. Miss Plumtartt would’ve been a goner for sure.
    I wonder if there is such a thing as ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’?
    I have a hunch that I am about to make a meaningful decision.
    I feel a stubborn tenacity coming on. A sensation is washing through me, as if I am a fragile teacup, balanced on the knife edge of a high mountain ridge, filled to the rim with a beverage of possibilities.
    Was it ‘fate’ that had me bop Sir Henry on the horn?
    ~ ‘Slish,’ slishes the tart tea of fate.~
    Could the hand of ‘destiny’ be at work?
    ~‘Slosh,’ sloshes the swirling sweetener of destiny.~
    “If that jumbo sized satanic shrimp was one of the ghosts that’s a running ‘round here, then maybe this gal ain’t outta the chipper yet.”
    ~Sloosh!~
    I think that last wave sent my teacup over the edge.
    “I shall rescue this damsel in distress!”
    - - -
    Let’s see: the initial disturbance seemed to arise from the South East end of St. James Park. I’ll search that area for a trail to follow. Well, looky there, the Queen’s Hotel front door is damaged, as if some kind of accident happened. I’ll take a look inside and see how things are.
    Golly, there sure is a lot of damage here and in the dining room. It looks like there has been a true ‘nough slobberknocker rolled through this fancy hotel. I’ll go check at the desk.
    “Excuse me, sir?”
    “Deliveries are in the rear, young man.”
    “Hunh? Oh, nossir, I ain’t here for work related inquiry. Could you tell me if Miss Persephone Plumtartt is staying with y’all?”
    “‘Y’all’, sir? One sees. I can confirm Miss Plumtartt’s residence with us; however, one would suggest returning once one has been made oneself more presentable. At that time, we will send for Miss Plumtartt, young man.”
    “Oh, yessir. It is kind of late. I reckon you’re right. I’ll be back first thing in the morning with enough hair grooming ointment to waterproof a canoe on my