Weird West 04 - The Doctor and the Dinosaurs Page 15

  “Okay, we can't divide the guns,” said Holliday. He frowned. “That presents a problem.”

  “A major one,” agreed Roosevelt. “One camp is going to be completely unprotected.”

  Holliday nodded. “And it's got to be Marsh's.”

  “Why?” asked Edison.

  “If we take both weapons with us, it could take us at least half a day, maybe a whole one, to locate Marsh,” said Holliday. “No sense leaving both camps unprotected for a day.”

  “Ah, I see,” said Edison.

  “So our main task now is to somehow convince Marsh to move his base of operations here. It's the only way we can protect everyone.”

  “So who will man the other weapon once Theodore's gone?” asked Buntline.

  “Cole Younger will handle one,” replied Holliday. “I'll have to trust him to pick the best shot to handle the other.”

  “The other?” repeated Buntline, frowning.

  “Yeah,” answered Holliday. “I don't relish the ride, but I've got to go with Theodore.”

  “Why?”

  “Because all he'll have is his rifle, and based on our experience here I think it'll take more than one rifle to bring one of these creatures down.”

  “With a little luck we won't run into any,” said Roosevelt. “Whatever it was that attracted the one we just killed to this camp may attract whatever comes next. Thirty men talking and breaking rocks make a lot of noise.”

  “I'm perfectly happy to bet Marsh's life on that,” said Holliday. Suddenly he smiled. “Wouldn't even mind losing.”

  “Doc!” said Edison, frowning.

  “Seriously,” said Holliday. “If they kill Cope and Marsh, maybe the Comanche will be happy and send ’em all back to hell.”

  “First, they won't stop with Cope and Marsh,” said Roosevelt, “but will kill all sixty or seventy members of their staffs. And second, if they could make them vanish just like that”—he snapped his fingers—“then our Apache friend wouldn't be worried about them traveling a few hundred miles southwest to his territory.”

  Holliday frowned and pulled out his flask. “Don't you ever get tired of being right?” he growled. “I was really happy thinking of letting the dinosaurs have Marsh and Cope for lunch.”

  “I'll get the horses,” announced Roosevelt, walking off to the stable area while Holliday turned both weapons over to Younger, and had Buntline begin instructing him on how to use them. Then Roosevelt was back, and the two men mounted their horses and headed off to the east.

  “That was quite a monster,” remarked Roosevelt as they rode along.

  “Yeah, I'll be seeing him in my nightmares for years,” agreed Holliday. “Well, for one year, anyway,” he amended. He shook his head in wonderment. “Who'd ever have guessed that the day would come when I'd be standing side by side with a New York politician, shooting at something that dwarfs a grizzly bear and hasn't been seen on Earth for millions of years?” He paused. “I wonder how many more of them are out there.”

  “No sense worrying about it,” said Roosevelt. “Your job is just to shoot straight when the time comes.”

  “That's been my job most of the past twenty years,” replied Holliday. He sighed deeply. “I wonder what I'd have said in college if I'd known it would come to this.”

  “Did you enjoy college?” asked Roosevelt.

  “Well, I could take a deeper breath then than I can now,” answered Holliday.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I was never much for socializing,” said Holliday. “I've had maybe three friends in my life, counting you.”

  “No sweetheart?” asked Roosevelt.

  “I can think of better terms to define the meanest madam west of the Mississippi,” said Holliday with a rueful smile.

  “You must have loved her once.”

  “I will admit to being especially happy to see her the day she broke me out of jail,” answered Holliday. “Well, until she tried to brain me with a rifle barrel a few hours later.”

  “All right,” said Roosevelt with a grin. “I won't ask anything else about her.”

  “You seem to do all right in the sweetheart department, especially if you're marrying again,” said Holliday. “What was your first wife like?”

  Roosevelt stared off into the distance, and Holliday could see the muscles working in his face.

  “Perfect,” he said softly. “Absolutely perfect.”

  “In what ways?”

  “The subject is closed,” said Roosevelt with an air of finality.

  They rode in silence for another hour, and the train led them down from the rocky hills to an increasingly forested area with a small stream off to the left.

  “Stop!” said Holliday suddenly.

  “What is it?” asked Roosevelt.

  Holliday frowned and pulled out his pistol. “I'm not sure. But I heard something off to the left.”

  “Put that away,” said Roosevelt, indicating the pistol. “If it's a dinosaur we'll need something more powerful, and if it's not, there's no danger.”

  “Could be a puma,” said Holliday, scanning the trees and bushes.

  “Forget it,” said Roosevelt.

  Holliday kept his gun poised and continued looking.

  “Doc, trust me,” said Roosevelt. “I'm a naturalist. I've made a study of our bigger mammals, and I'm telling you this is the wrong terrain for a mountain lion.”

  “It's the wrong terrain for a dinosaur, too,” said Holliday without relaxing.

  Suddenly some bushes began moving off to their left, and a minute later a dark face appeared.

  “Just a black bear,” said Roosevelt. “They're common out here. Put the gun away. He's not going to bother us.”

  “I know of a couple of men who got killed by black bears,” said Holliday, training his gun on the bear.

  “They probably irritated the bear beyond endurance, or maybe they ran into it when it had cubs,” said Roosevelt. “Believe me, this is a land of plenty for black bears. They'll eat anything, animal or vegetable, and they're not going to risk getting hurt attacking us when there's so much edible vegetation and so many small animals around.”

  They urged their horses forward, the bear merely stared at them, and finally Holliday relaxed and holstered his gun.

  The next ninety minutes went without incident. Then they stopped for lunch—Roosevelt picked his off the local flora, Holliday drank his—and two hours after that they pulled into Marsh's camp.

  “Welcome back,” said Cody, walking up and greeting them. “Glad to see you, of course, but you picked a hell of a time to come back.”

  “Oh?” said Roosevelt.

  Cody nodded his head. “Yeah,” he said with a grimace. “The Professor hasn't found anything worth a damn for three days now. Maybe you'll bring him a little luck.” He paused. “Why do you keep looking behind you, Doc?”

  “Just want to make sure we haven't brought him more luck than he bargained for,” replied Holliday.

  IT WAS A GLOOMY CAMP. The men took their mood from Marsh, and his mood was fouler than usual. They'd been coming up with finds so often that a three-day period without one almost made them feel that the area was played out.

  “You know that book about the white whale, the one that Melville fellow wrote?” said Cody as he was explaining the situation to Holliday and Roosevelt.

  “Sure,” said Holliday. “Moby Dick.”

  “Magnificent novel,” added Roosevelt. “As good as anything Mr. Clemens has written. Perhaps a bit better.”

  “You've read it, Doc?” said Cody. “Well, I'll be damned!”

  “Probably you will be,” replied Holliday. “But why does it surprise you that I've read one of the most popular American novels of the century?”

  Cody shook his head. “I keep forgetting you've been to college.”

  “Not all shootists are illiterate, you know,” said Holliday irritably. “Johnny Ringo could discuss the classics with the best of them.”

  “D
idn't I hear that you killed him?”

  “The one had nothing to do with the other,” said Holliday.

  Cody stared at him curiously for a moment, then continued speaking. “Well, getting back to what I was saying, I just want a peaceful, harmonious camp—but Marsh is obsessed as Captain Ahab.”

  “And Moby Dick is the fossil he can't find?” suggested Roosevelt.

  “Sort of,” agreed Cody. “Of course, his real white whale is Professor Cope, and I assume Cope'd be just as happy to toss a harpoon or two into Professor Marsh.”

  Holliday nodded his agreement. “Yeah, I'd say that about sums it up.”

  “Actually,” added Cody, “I've been thinking about going out after my own white whale.”

  “Your own white whale?” repeated Holliday, frowning.

  “Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show,” replied Cody. “I thought I might pick up some new attractions out here. Hell, I even thought we might find a whole dinosaur skeleton to take on tour. But all I do is stand shotgun while thirty men I couldn't care less about dig in the dirt. Dullest job I ever had.”

  “Well, you never know,” said Holliday. “It might get less dull in a hurry.”

  “Only thing that breaks the monotony have been the three saboteurs we've caught, and to be honest I didn't catch two of them, a bunch of the workmen did.” He paused. “Yeah, I miss the crowds, the excitement, the ladies coming up to see the famous Buffalo Bill. You know, I ain't seen a woman in close to ten, eleven weeks now, not even a Comanche woman.”

  “I got one back in Leadville I'd be happy give you,” said Holliday.

  Cody threw back his head and laughed. “I heard about you and her. Hell, I think everyone has. Wouldn't mind seeing one of them metal chippies she's got. They properly friendly, Doc?”

  “Sure are,” said Holliday. “Any one of ’em could hug you on a Monday and not let go till Saturday night.”

  “No wonder you're so damned skinny,” said Cody.

  “Same reason you're so talky,” answered Holliday.

  “I don't follow you.”

  “I never met a meal I liked, and you've never met a word you didn't,” said Holliday.

  Cody laughed again. “By God, I'm glad you're here! Maybe I won't leave camp just yet after all.”

  “We're all leaving,” said Roosevelt firmly.

  Cody looked up at the sky. “Don't look like rain.”

  “Rain's got nothing to do with it,” said Roosevelt. “I've got to talk to Marsh.”

  “You better call him Professor Marsh or it's gonna be a mighty short conversation,” said Cody.

  “I'll keep that in mind,” said Roosevelt. “Where is he now?”

  “Probably out digging,” answered Cody. He pulled out a cigar, offered one each to Roosevelt and Holliday, who refused, and lit it. “I'm just here because I'm doing night duty.”

  “He's digging at night?” said Holliday. “No wonder he's not finding anything.”

  Cody shook his head. “No, I'm on what we call saboteur duty. A couple of other men are standing guard against the Comanche.”

  “When's he due back?” asked Roosevelt.

  Cody looked at the sun's position in the sky. “Maybe another couple of hours, though if he's shooting blanks again today he could keep ’em digging by torchlight.”

  Roosevelt turned to Holliday. “We can't wait that long, just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” asked Cody.

  “Just in case he doesn't get back by dark,” said Holliday. “We're new to this place. We wouldn't know where to look for him.”

  “Then talk to him tomorrow.”

  “Today's better,” said Roosevelt.

  “Why do I get the feeling there's something you two ain't telling me?” said Cody.

  “I don't know,” answered Holliday. “You got any idea why he feels that way, Theodore?”

  “Well, he's not telling you about dentistry and I'm not telling you about taxidermy, just for a start,” said Roosevelt.

  “All right, all right,” said Cody. “Enough bullshit. If you want to see the Professor, we might as well go now, before I get so annoyed I blow the both of you away.”

  Cody led them to the stabling area—a crude lean-to with a bunch of water buckets and a long hitching post. A few minutes later they were saddled up and passing through the camp.

  “Which way?” asked Roosevelt.

  “They headed that way this morning,” said Cody, pointing due north. “But even if they've moved, they'll be easy to find. They ain't the quietest bunch of men you've ever come across. And of course, any time they come to bedrock and start whacking away at it with their hammers, you can hear it at least a mile off.”

  “Then let's head north,” said Roosevelt, moving his horse to the front of their short line as the trail began winding its way to higher ground.

  Holliday began cursing his horse and briefly pulled him to a stop, much to Cody's amusement. He urged the animal to begin walking again once Cody had passed him, confident that the showman hadn't figured out that he'd been manipulated between them so they could better protect him should one of the dinosaurs suddenly appear.

  But nothing appeared except some meadowlarks and a family of grey partridges, and they progressed slowly through the uneven landscape for the better part of two miles before they could hear a couple of men yelling to one another. Roosevelt angled his horse in the direction of the noise, and a moment later they came upon a rocky outcropping where Marsh was directing the work of two dozen men, while some others were digging about forty yards away.

  Marsh noticed them and stepped away from the outcropping to approach them, and the second he did all work came to a halt.

  “Mr. Roosevelt,” he said by way of greeting. “Doc Holliday. I thought we'd seen the last of you. I'm delighted to see you back here, but you've come at an inopportune time. I'm afraid this site has nothing further to yield.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that,” said Roosevelt.

  “My only hope is that swine Cope is having the same luck where he's at.”

  “It was Cope we came here to talk about,” said Holliday.

  “Not before dinner,” said Marsh with no hint of humor. “You'll ruin my digestion.” He looked around at his men. “Nobody told you to stop working!”

  “We'll keep hammering and digging, Professor,” said one of them, “but I don't think there's anything here.”

  “You know that for a fact, do you?” demanded Marsh.

  “No, but—”

  “Then get to work!”

  “Theodore,” said Holliday softly, “the only way to get him to leave here, and especially to go work side-by-side with his favorite swine, is going to be at gunpoint.”

  “Perhaps,” answered Roosevelt. “But let a politician try first.”

  “Be my guest.”

  Roosevelt edged his horse forward a few steps.

  “So you're not having much luck here?”

  “We've had better,” replied Marsh.

  “That's a shame,” said Roosevelt. “You know we've just come from Cope's camp”—he purposely did not use the word Professor—“and given your acknowledged skills I would have thought…” He let the words hang.

  “So the fool lucked out and found a fossil,” said Marsh, his voice reeking with contempt.

  “Actually, the fool found himself a whole dinosaur,” replied Roosevelt.

  Marsh stared at him furiously.

  “A big one,” continued Roosevelt. A pause. “Bigger than an allosaur.” A longer pause. “Alive. Doc and I had to kill it.”

  Marsh staggered as if he'd received a heavy blow to the head. Then he stood up on a rock where everyone could see him.

  “Pack your gear!” he cried as Roosevelt shot Holliday a triumphant grin. “We're breaking camp!”

  THE TRIP TO COPE'S CAMP took five uneventful hours. Marsh refused to stop and rest the horses, and they were all dripping with sweat when they arrived.

  “We're here,” announced
Roosevelt, turning to Marsh, who was sitting atop his lead wagon. “I think you'd better let Doc and me go ahead and break the news.”

  “You do that,” said Marsh. He turned to his men and raised his voice. “But just in case that bastard wants to keep this find all to himself, have your guns ready.”

  “We didn't bring you here to start a war,” said Roosevelt, hoping that Marsh was so obsessed with his hatred for Cope that he wouldn't bother to wonder why they did bring him here.

  “We won't fire the first shot,” said Marsh. “But if there's any shooting, we'll by God fire the last.” He turned back to his men. “Cody, get up here! I didn't hire you for your fancy buckskins! Get that gun out of its holster!”

  “I sure am glad you're not looking to precipitate a gunfight,” said Holliday sardonically.

  “Says the notorious gunfighter!” snapped Marsh.

  “Bill,” said Holliday to Cody, “Cope knows you, doesn't he?”

  Cody nodded his head. “Yes.”

  “Okay, hop on the wagon with me and come with us to meet him and explain our peaceful intentions.”

  “I don't know about that,” said Cody.

  “Oh, they're peaceful,” said Roosevelt. He raised his voice and spoke to Marsh's men. “If there's any shooting, you men are going to be up against the Younger Brothers. Is he paying you enough to do that?”

  Cody seemed about to mention that two of the three notorious Younger Brothers were dead, but Holliday caught his eye and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Suddenly Cody grinned and remained silent.

  “That's good enough for me,” said one of the men. “I'm quitting right now.”

  “You quit now and you aren't getting a penny!” snapped Marsh.

  “You owe me for six weeks’ work!” yelled the man. “They don't need the Youngers. Maybe I'll just shoot you myself.”

  “Stop!” said Roosevelt firmly. “There's not going to be any shooting! If you men keep your weapons holstered, you don't have to quit. And if you stay, and Professor Marsh doesn't pay you, I'll personally help you beat the money out of him. Is that fair enough?”