Doctor Who_ The Gunfighters - Donald Cotton [35]
‘Reckon he’d have sent word hisself,’ contributed Billy, ‘’cept that he was handicapped by havin’ been a mite pole-axed...’
‘That’s it,’ agreed Ike, ‘same like a herd-bull in a stockyard.’
‘Oh?’ said Pa, putting himself under restraint, and counting to five with some difficulty. ‘And by whom if I may put the question?’
‘Earp,’ said Ike.
‘Put your goddamned hand in front of your mouth when you do that!’ said his parent. And then light dawned, with the beginning of a bright side... ‘You mean, Wyatt took him in fer killin’ Holliday? That’s it now, ain’t it?’
‘Well now, Pa – I cain’t tell you that, because it ain’t rightly so.’
He had read all about George Washington, and his little hat-check cutie; and he admired the man in consequence...
‘You see, time Phin got hisself incommoded, we was seemingly after the wrong guy...’
‘Go on,’ said Pa. ‘You tell it, Billy.’
‘There you go, Pa,’ said Billy, ‘An’ time we-all was adoin’ that, the right guy – the real Holliday, that is – was engaged in shootin’ the dyin’ night-shades out of Seth Harper!’
‘That’s about all really, Pa,’ Ike resumed; ‘’cept that I’d like to say, it could have happened to anyone. You got to give us that...’
Pa knew what he’d like to give them, but couldn’t rightly see any point in it at this juncture. ’Sides of which he was fresh out of wasp poison. No, comes a time when a father has to realise he’s accidentally sired a brood-pen full of pea-brained gophers; and all he can do then is make the best of it.
Nevertheless, he thought a word or two of some sort might be in season.
‘Seth Harper,’ he complained, ‘owes me money!’
‘Don’t rightly see how you aim to collect it...’ said Billy.
‘Seems like I done paid him all of one hundred confederate dollars to back you up, an’ get Holliday. An’
now that’s cash down the cess-pit, ain’t it?’
‘There you go!’ admitted Billy again.
‘Don’t keep sayin’ that! God knows where you pick up these expressions! So I tell you what you do now, ‘cause it seems a Pa has to look out fer his young-uns, regardless of lack of affection! I’m a-gonna give you five hundred more; an’ you will take that small fortune to procure me the services of a real gun-man. Go get me Johnny Ringo!’ he hissed.
The boys reeled with apprehension. ‘Johnny Ringo!
Now, just hold on there...’
‘Ringo rides alone, Pa – you know that!’ said Billy. ‘On account of no-one durst ride with him! So what makes you think as he’d throw in with us?’
‘Five hundred dollars says so,’ said Pa, confidently. ‘An’
seein’ it’s Ringo, I’d best made ’em Yankee dollars. Now –
go git him!’
‘Don’t rightly know where he’s at,’ objected Ike. ‘You know what that class of man is like? They ride the wild wind in search of new, blue yonders; where there’s no fence-posts, or whatever.’
‘Then ask around, boy – such time as I’ve still left you a tongue in your head! Seein’ as my union with your late Ma has been blessed with a litter of no-account, droop-eared lap-dogs, seems I require the services of a top-gun! So go git me Ringo,’ he persevered; and his voice rose to an apoplectic scream, just in time to add, ‘An’ git him here fast!’
So, realising he was serious, the boys made a boot-assisted exit, put their horses into rapid reverse, and went to ask around.
18
Ringo in the Morning
Crimson-fingered dawn was lighting the hoose-gow as with a blow-torch – for it was a fine morning – when the Doctor and Steven, aged by a night of twitching sleep in which dreams of tight neck-wear featured prominently, emerged from their respective cells to find Wyatt and Bat examining Phineas Clanton’s creased, Neanderthal skull with some distaste.
‘Is he conscious yet?’ asked the Doctor.
‘Difficult to tell,’ diagnosed Bat. ‘Looks like he may be alive; but, if so, he ain’t gonna enjoy it for a while...’
‘Really, Marshal,’ protested the Doctor, ‘was it necessary to hit the man quite so hard?’
‘Yes, after all he was only going to hang me,’ said Steven. ‘Doctor, it wasn’t your neck in the noose last night.
I, for one, am very grateful to Mr Earp!’
‘I was