remember a time when Jessie had sounded friendly, but he couldn’t think of one.
“I hope I don’t have to pull my own tooth,” Doc said. “What a tragedy that would be.”
Just at that moment the fat woman came out with a scream.
“I seen an Indian,” she said. Her three brats howled with her.
Wyatt glanced out the window and sure enough there was an Indian, a short brown man with a Winchester standing by a yucca that was taller than himself.
“She’s right,” Wyatt informed the company. “There’s an Indian fellow out by that yucca.”
“I don’t suppose a naked savage would be able to afford dental work,” Doc said.
He had a strong urge to throw the three howling brats out the window, but refrained.
“I wonder if Virg and Warren have got their saloon open yet,” Wyatt mentioned. “I would welcome a few swallows of whiskey.”
“You promised me I could bartend,” Jessie reminded him. “It’s my main pleasure.”
“You can bartend if there’s a bar,” Wyatt assured her. “I’ll be the bouncer, if one’s needed.”
“Unless we get scalped in the next few miles,” he added.
“What’s that?” Doc asked. “I was reliably informed that all the wild Indians had run off to Mexico.”
“You may not be as reliably informed as you like to think,” Wyatt said. “The one I just saw wasn’t in Mexico. For all I know it was Geronimo himself. He was carrying a Winchester rifle, which is an expensive gun.”
Ahead they saw a cluster of shacks, which seemed to be all the Arizona towns consisted of. Jessie was getting the feeling that she had made a mistake leaving Kansas City.
“That’s probably Tombstone,” Wyatt said.
But it wasn’t. It was Douglas, a town on the border. But any chance to stretch their legs was welcome. No sooner had the three brats hit the ground than they took off running, at which point their mother started praying to the angels. Then one of the engineers began to beat on another.
“Let them scuffle,” Doc said. “Fisticuffs will often clear the brain.”
“Get my boys, get ’em,” the desperate fat woman said.
“Where are we, Wyatt?” Jessie asked. “I thought there’d be lots of buildings.”
“I don’t know about the lots of buildings,” Wyatt said. “You know how Virg exaggerates when he’s drunk.”
“Which is often,” Doc said.
“You mind your own business,” Wyatt said, snappishly. He did not like to hear any of his brothers criticized, unless it was by him.
Doc ignored this threat and walked over to the two Butterfield men who had been exchanging blows. His hope was that a tooth or two might have been knocked loose. In fact when he arrived both men were spitting out teeth.
“I’m a practitioner of the dental arts,” he said. “Either of you gents need attention?”
“We were bound for Tombstone, but some ignorant fool forgot to pull the main switch and here we are in Douglas.”
Jessie could not remember feeling as lost as she felt at that moment. There was still probably a fine haze of dust in the air. There had been that Indian by the yucca. Doc had often explained to her what a fine scalp her long lustrous hair would make.
Wyatt was studying a little pocket map he had bought in Chicago a while back. He had found an empty bucket somewhere and sat on it while he read his map.
“Tombstone ain’t such a far piece from here,” he said.
“It wouldn’t be if we had firewood enough,” the engineer said. “But we missed the big wood yard in that sandstorm,” the man said. “And now we’re short of fuel.”
“It’s times like these when a deck of cards comes in handy—and I happen to have a deck of cards.”
Suddenly a high whirling dust devil came racing up the street. Jessie wanted to run but where was there to run? The small Frenchman had just stepped out of the train, just in time to walk right into it, which snatched his hat and blew it high in the sky. Fortunately the dust devil quickly dissolved.
“That
“I hope I don’t have to pull my own tooth,” Doc said. “What a tragedy that would be.”
Just at that moment the fat woman came out with a scream.
“I seen an Indian,” she said. Her three brats howled with her.
Wyatt glanced out the window and sure enough there was an Indian, a short brown man with a Winchester standing by a yucca that was taller than himself.
“She’s right,” Wyatt informed the company. “There’s an Indian fellow out by that yucca.”
“I don’t suppose a naked savage would be able to afford dental work,” Doc said.
He had a strong urge to throw the three howling brats out the window, but refrained.
“I wonder if Virg and Warren have got their saloon open yet,” Wyatt mentioned. “I would welcome a few swallows of whiskey.”
“You promised me I could bartend,” Jessie reminded him. “It’s my main pleasure.”
“You can bartend if there’s a bar,” Wyatt assured her. “I’ll be the bouncer, if one’s needed.”
“Unless we get scalped in the next few miles,” he added.
“What’s that?” Doc asked. “I was reliably informed that all the wild Indians had run off to Mexico.”
“You may not be as reliably informed as you like to think,” Wyatt said. “The one I just saw wasn’t in Mexico. For all I know it was Geronimo himself. He was carrying a Winchester rifle, which is an expensive gun.”
Ahead they saw a cluster of shacks, which seemed to be all the Arizona towns consisted of. Jessie was getting the feeling that she had made a mistake leaving Kansas City.
“That’s probably Tombstone,” Wyatt said.
But it wasn’t. It was Douglas, a town on the border. But any chance to stretch their legs was welcome. No sooner had the three brats hit the ground than they took off running, at which point their mother started praying to the angels. Then one of the engineers began to beat on another.
“Let them scuffle,” Doc said. “Fisticuffs will often clear the brain.”
“Get my boys, get ’em,” the desperate fat woman said.
“Where are we, Wyatt?” Jessie asked. “I thought there’d be lots of buildings.”
“I don’t know about the lots of buildings,” Wyatt said. “You know how Virg exaggerates when he’s drunk.”
“Which is often,” Doc said.
“You mind your own business,” Wyatt said, snappishly. He did not like to hear any of his brothers criticized, unless it was by him.
Doc ignored this threat and walked over to the two Butterfield men who had been exchanging blows. His hope was that a tooth or two might have been knocked loose. In fact when he arrived both men were spitting out teeth.
“I’m a practitioner of the dental arts,” he said. “Either of you gents need attention?”
“We were bound for Tombstone, but some ignorant fool forgot to pull the main switch and here we are in Douglas.”
Jessie could not remember feeling as lost as she felt at that moment. There was still probably a fine haze of dust in the air. There had been that Indian by the yucca. Doc had often explained to her what a fine scalp her long lustrous hair would make.
Wyatt was studying a little pocket map he had bought in Chicago a while back. He had found an empty bucket somewhere and sat on it while he read his map.
“Tombstone ain’t such a far piece from here,” he said.
“It wouldn’t be if we had firewood enough,” the engineer said. “But we missed the big wood yard in that sandstorm,” the man said. “And now we’re short of fuel.”
“It’s times like these when a deck of cards comes in handy—and I happen to have a deck of cards.”
Suddenly a high whirling dust devil came racing up the street. Jessie wanted to run but where was there to run? The small Frenchman had just stepped out of the train, just in time to walk right into it, which snatched his hat and blew it high in the sky. Fortunately the dust devil quickly dissolved.
“That
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