Doctor Who: The Gunfighters (3 page)

‘You mean,
I’m
in it. Seems like you three’s gonna be
together
– jest settin’ at the ringside – an watchin’.’

‘Now that ain’t so, Seth,’ said Phineas. ‘We’re backin’

you – you know we are.
You
make your play, and then we gun him down. That’s the way we planned it. Easy as skinnin’ summer frogs!’

This went down very well. ‘Summer frogs,’ agreed Ike.

‘Frogs, sure,’ said Billy.

‘Don’t know about frogs,’ said Seth, ‘but you surely have got a way with words there. Okay then – frogs!’ and he smiled for the first time. They hoped it would be the last.

It showed his teeth.

So, a consensus having been reached, they slapped each other around a while; and then, still chuckling at Phineas the phrase-maker, they settled down to pass the time with a little light drinking.

And there, for the moment, it will be more pleasant to leave them...

The Brief Career of Dead-shot Steve
There ain’t nothing like dressing the part, is there? And so our three time travellers eventually emerged into the quagmire of the Corral, as if for a provincial production of old Bill Cody’s Road Show! Well, of course, you get conditioned by the cheaper sort of Western fiction, such as I have been known to write myself, on occasion; but still and all, you might have thought the foul reality of Tombstone would have modified their choice of costume somewhat... Never mind; when it comes to the Wild West, everyone is a boy at heart – except the girls, of course; and I expect they’ve got their own problems. Dodo was certainly in the way of acquiring a few, I’d say; wearing, as she had chosen to do, a little number made up of scarlet furbelows and flounces trimmed with black lace – the whole set off with a picture-hat of such dimensions that an enterprising florist could well have opened a branch department on a corner of its brim. Not to put too fine a point on it, she looked like the proprietress of a broken-down cat-house in one of the less select quarters of New Orleans; but when she prinked and preened in front of the Doctor, and asked his opinion, he contented himself with saying

‘Absurd!’ and left it at that. After all, you don’t want to give needless offence; and, in any case, his tooth was still savaging him more than slightly.

So, with the merest, scarcely perceptible shudder, he turned to Steven, and asked why he had deemed it essential to disguise himself as Billy the Kid. ‘Asking for trouble, I’d have thought,’ he groaned. ‘Why couldn’t you have worn something inconspicuous, like I have done?’

Since the garments in question were, from North to South, a Mexican sombrero, an eye-shattering fancy gambler’s weskit, inadequately concealed by a velvet box-back coat, and yellow whip-cord breeches, tucked into silver-ornamented riding boots, Steven forbore to answer the question; but assured the Doctor that he was quite well able to look after himself, thank you, when it came to a show-down.

‘Stranger,’ he snarled, in an accent which seemed to have originated in the region of the Okefenokee Swamp, ‘I guess you don’t know who I is? Folks call me Dead-shot Steve. Moreover, my daddy was a bull-alligator, an’ I can wrastle my own weight in cougars!’

To prove this contention, he drew two pearl-handled revolvers, and twirled the surprised weapons by their trigger guards. Very impressive! Or would have been, if they hadn’t immediately been shot from his hands by a party who had approached unnoticed, and been an interested audience to the foregoing.

A tall man, he was; lean, and with the flickering hell-fire eye of a misogynistic Methodist preacher. He leant over the sway-back of a skeletal horse, as though it was the pulpit rail of the last tin chapel left standing in Gomorrah; and in his black-gloved hand was a smoking pistol with a twelve-inch barrel – as I know, because I designed and gave it to him long ago in Dodge City. He was, they were glad to see, smiling – but only as if the joke was something private between him and Jehovah.

Nevertheless – ‘Hey!’ quavered Steve, in a reproachful manner; ‘That hurt!’

‘What is the meaning of this?’ demanded the Doctor.

‘You want to find out,’ drawled the newcomer, ‘then try movin’ sudden... Now, git over there agin’ the wall... real slow, mind...’

Well, you do, don’t you, in a situation like that? But the Doctor resented his attitude, all the same.

‘I don’t know who you are, sir; or by what right...’

‘State Marshal’s my right, and Wyatt Earp’s my name.’

‘Wyatt Earp?’ choked Dodo.

‘Something wrong, ma’am?’ queried Wyatt, tipping his hat.

‘No – it’s just that... well, I’ve always wanted to meet you... and now, here we are – face to face!’

‘The Lord surely do work in mysterious ways, don’t He?

And now He’s seen fit to make us acquainted, perhaps you an’ your friends’ll oblige both Him and me by steppin’

along to the sheriff’s office, down along the street a-piece?

So’s you can identify yourselves to Bat Masterson in a decent, law-abidin’ manner?’

‘Now wait a minute,’ said Steven; ‘perhaps I’d better explain. Actually, you see, I’m not really a gunfighter at all...’

‘That’s kind of obvious, boy. That’s why I’m doin’ you a real courtesy by takin’ you in...’

‘But why?’ asked Steven, thinking he’d cleared the matter up rather well. ‘I can see no reason...’

‘On account, boy, as I jest heard the Clanton boys are in town; an’ that makes it kind of unhealthy for a stranger who claims he’s the fastest man in the territory. So you can jest pick up them shiny new toys of yours, there, an’ get movin’...’

And so, of course, they moved...

4

During our absence, the decor of the Last Chance has been improved considerably by the addition of the resident chanteuse – a lady with the unfortunate name of Big-nose Kate Elder. But what’s in a name, as someone says, somewhere? Just be grateful that a young woman with enough bounce, personality, and zip to hold down a job in such a cess-pit, is prepared to pound the ivories for our entertainment while the following conversation ensues. To which, I may say, she also listens.

Ike was holding the floor; as though he thought he’d caught it moving. ‘Holliday cain’t be
that
good,’ he opined,

‘it jest ain’t possible! Against the four of us? He won’t know what hit him!’

‘Now that’d be a real shame,’ said hot-shot Billy. ‘I’d like for him to know. I’d like him to know us for Reuben’s brothers. That way,’ he explained, ‘he’ll realise he’s been overtaken by... what’s that Greek guy’s name? Used to overtake people... Nemmy someone... Yeah, Nemmy – I got it – Sis!’

‘You addressin’ me?’ snarled Seth, always quick to resent an implication.

‘No – it was some Greek, I tell you!’

‘
Some
Greek,
I’ll
say!’ chorused his loyal brothers, not quite sure which away the talk was drifting.

Seth wasn’t either. He wiped his hand with the back of his mouth.

‘Now see here,’ he said, ‘can we get back to the subject?

Now listen,’ he added, changing his instructions at the last moment, ‘you boys don’t
know
Holliday! You mean, you want
him
to come lookin’ for
us
? When you ain’t never even
seen
him? If so, you’re crazy as a... as a...’

‘Jay-bird?’ suggested Phineas. ‘Or maybe, a frog?’ he added, anxious to repeat his former triumph.

‘Well, one of the two, anyway,’ agreed Seth. ‘Hey, what is it with you an’ frogs? You some kind of pervert?’

As always, Ike got him out of it. ‘Well, not
that
kind,’ he said. ‘You and your fantasies stay out of this, can’t you, Phin? So where
is
Holliday now?’

‘How in hell should
I
know?’ grumbled Seth; ‘I ain’t runnin’ no general information service, am I? All I
do
know is what I heard – that he rode in this morning.’

‘Now just let me get this straight,’ said Phineas, unabashed. ‘You mean,
you
never seen him neither? Land sakes, I thought that was why you came along... so’s you could...’

‘I don’t
need
to see him,’ interrupted Seth. ‘I heard him described – and I seen pictures. Dapper little feller, in a black velvet, box-back coat, an’ a fancy gambler’s vest.’

You see? Plenty of scope for future misunderstandings.

‘So fine!’ said Billy. ‘So we know him when we find him. So
how
do we find him?’

‘We don’t
have
to find him. You boys never heard of Holliday’s drinkin’ an’ gamblin’? So where’s the only place in town he can do both?’

The boys nodded, sagely. ‘Right here,’ they concluded.

‘So then, we jest sit here – maybe havin’ us another little drink – an’ we wait for him... an’ then we blast him! That’s all we gotta do... Easy as... as...’

‘Bakin’ a possum in a pie?’ enquired Phineas, tentatively.

This was a new one, at any rate – and they thumped each other some more.

While Kate, who could do more than play a mean piano, let me tell you, spoke to Charlie. ‘I’ll be right back, Charlie’

was what she said.

‘Why, where you fixin’ to go?’ enquired her employer, likewise speaking for the first time.

‘Jest thought me of an errand I forgot,’ she explained, plausibly.

‘Well, you better be back right smart – if you aim to keep on workin’ here!’

‘Why, of course I will, Charlie...’ And she made a splendid exit.

A simple conversation, you may think? But significant, as events will prove.

5

You see, it was precisely at this time in his life, so Doc Holliday told me, that he had decided to get married for once; and likewise settle down – if, that is, the lady was going to insist on it. And to this end, he was even now installing a handsome dentist’s chair, complete with all the trimmings a lady loves, in his new premises on Main Street, Tombstone.

‘Easy there!’ he said to the Wells Fargo delivery boys,

‘You hear me? You carry that there piece of merchandise real gentle – like she was a one-day bride!’

His mind right set on domesticity, you will note? And I’ll tell you for why. In some fly-bitten cow-town down the circuit a-piece, he had recently had occasion to shoot the bejesus out of one Reuben Clanton – of whom we have already heard so much.

Some trifling altercation of an academic nature – in fact, as to just how many aces a man can reasonably be expected to have up his sleeve at the one time; that was the point at issue between them which had caused the argument. And, as usual, Doc had won it. Fair enough, you will likely say; and, on account of the sporting ethic prevailing at the time, I agree.

But the said Reuben Clanton had friends in town, and they didn’t see it our way. They objected to the luck of the quick draw, and demanded a ballot. The outcome of which was that Doc should be strung as high as convenient forthwith, if not sooner.

It was about then that Big-nose Kate had the delicate female initiative to set fire to the saloon; thereby distracting the interested parties for long enough so she and Doc whom she admired, could depart for points West.

Well, after all, that’s the sort of thing a lady will do –

especially if the feller in question hasn’t yet paid her for his previous night’s entertainment and lodging; and Doc was as grateful as a man should rightly be under the circumstances.

Moreover, seeing as he had carelessly left his money-belt back in the conflagration, he considered the only honourable course open to a Southern gentleman was to propose marriage to his fair rescuer, in lieu of lucre.

It was a proposition she duly accepted with some gratitude – and a lot of surprise; because such a slap-me-down suggestion had never come her way before. Johnny Ringo had never made it, for one; nor Jesse James for another. Oh, and several more prominent citizens – none of them had.

But Holliday was different; and he figured a gentleman gotta do what another sort of man would run a mile from –

that’s all.

So there he was, this wild, free spirit, feathering the love-nest with gew-gaws, fal-lals, and a certain amount of hooch, when the sound of size nine high-button boots in a tearing hurry indicated the approach of his intended...

‘Doc, I gotta talk to you!’ she panted.

He rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. ‘Well, now, yes, of course I’d taken that into consideration, Kate – and decided as I’m prepared to go along with it. Sure, I know matrimony ain’t all kisses an’ such. There’ll be those long evenings, with you yapping an’ me jest settin’ there. You have to take the rough with the smooth, from what I’m told...’

‘Doc, will you listen?’

‘Why, I jest finished tellin’ you, Kate – I don’t rightly see no alternative.’

‘Damn your hide, I mean now! Doc, I thought you promised me as you was goin’ to give up gun-play? You said you was goin’ to hang up your two Colt specials, your Derringer, your knife, and your Sharpe’s Buffalo rifle over the whisky-still, right next to Ma’s likeness!’

‘Now that there truly is an offensive weapon, sure

‘nough! But I aim to keep my word, Kate. Hereon in, my lightnin’ fingers are gonna be applied to molars, canines, and the like. I’m all through with blood and pain.’

‘Is that so? In that case, Doc, you’d better clear out of Tombstone right now!’

Understandably, he evidenced surprise, not unmixed with irritation.

‘But, tarnation blazes, I only just got here! What ails you, Kate? You fixin’ to renage on our lovin’ agreement?

You been rollin’ them oglin’ eyes at some other man? You met someone else already?’

‘I met four of ’em, if you want to know. An’ they’re alayin’ for you right now back in the bar!’

‘The hell you say! Who are these gentlemen? Anyone of my acquaintance?’

‘Three of ’em’s the Clanton brothers.’

He sighed deeply. ‘Now ain’t it always the same? Won’t that family never learn? Seems like every varmint I kill’s got a passel of brothers waiting to join him! So who’s the fourth, may I ask?’