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some of the most popular girls resembled baby elephants’. Chloe brought up the back of the line. As usual, her night’s takings were as slim as her talent.
    Shortly after four o’clock, Irene had slipped outside for a bit of fresh air. I followed her and told her I was disappointed with Chloe’s performance that evening. I suggested Irene have a friendly word with her. Irene told me, biting off every word, that she would never again have a “friendly word” with Chloe.
    Oh, goodie, I thought. Outside my office window, Dawson was warming up to the day’s commerce. Men shouted, women chattered, horses and donkeys stepped through the ever-present mud, and loaded carts rattled down the street. The loud whistle of a steamboat announced its arrival. Ever since break-up in May, the waterfront had been clogged with boats beyond count, everything from luxury steamboats to musclepowered rafts made out of green wood, pulling into the makeshift harbour on the mud flats. All were full to bursting with men and women in pursuit of a dream that would more often than not bring nothing but frustration and disappointment. A steady stream of people was already leaving the Yukon, their dreams shattered by the reality of life in a northern mining town thrown up out of trees, mud and muskeg, and mines that were staked and claimed before word of the strike reached the outside.
    Chloe placed a handful of disks on my desk.
    I pulled a thin envelope out of my drawer.
    She peered at me through red-streaked eyes and a badly cut fringe of greasy brown hair.
    â€œI’m sorry, Chloe, but you are dismissed.” I held out the envelope. “You were drunk when you got on stage. If I’d been here when you arrived, I wouldn’t have let you get that far. These are your wages, and I’ll count out the money owing for your disks.”
    â€œWhat?” she asked, blinking as if trying to make out my face through a fog.
    â€œI said you are dismissed.”
    â€œYou can’t fire me. Ma’am.”
    The girls who were on their way out the door, or who had remained behind to chat for a few moments, stopped dead. You could almost hear the ears pricking up.
    â€œSobriety is a condition of your employment, which was explained to you.”
    â€œI need this job.”
    â€œYou should have thought of that before taking a drink. Good day.”
    â€œPlease, ma’am. Gi’me another chance. I’ve the toothache, you see. I needed a sip to dull the pain. That’s all.” She rubbed the side of her face with her fingers.
    The girls were watching me. A few more drifted back down the hall and stood outside the door listening, Irene among them. I shoved the envelope towards Chloe again. “Your employment is terminated. Please leave.”
    She snatched the money out of my hand. Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth drew into a flat line. Most unattractive. She spat at my outstretched hand. My reflexes are still good, and I managed to pull back in time. The onlookers gasped.
    Chloe clutched her pay envelope to her chest. “They say you’re the hardest woman in the Yukon. Nothing but a blackhearted bitch under that fake Lady-Muck-Muck accent.”
    â€œI’ve been called worse by better people than you.” I gathered up the remaining coins as if to slip them into the drawer where I kept a good solid billy club. “It would be better if I don’t have to call Mr. Walker to have you thrown out.”
    â€œBitch,” she repeated. She turned and walked away. The dancers parted and watched her pass.
    The blob of spittle was beginning to sink into my desk blotter. I scooped it up with my handkerchief and dropped the mess into the waste basket. The silent crowd of watching girls scattered at a look from me.
    â€œI can assure you there is nothing at all fake about my Lady-Muck-Muck accent,” I said to no one in particular.
    Ray came into my office lugging a bag brimming with