The Doctor And The Rough Rider Part 21

"It's Theodore," replied Roosevelt.

"I never asked yesterday, but what does this job pay?" said Sloan.

"Not a single penny."

Sloan smiled. "Then it's Dandy."

"Pay me and I'll be happy to call you Theodore," said Smith. "h.e.l.l, pay me and I'll call you President Arthur if it makes you happy."

"You're freedom fighters, not mercenaries," said Roosevelt.

"We could be both," offered Smith.

Roosevelt laughed. "No money."

"Oh, h.e.l.l, I guess I'll call you Theodore anyway."

Loose Martinez was the next to arrive, followed by Turkey Creek Johnson and Sherman McMaster. McMaster informed Roosevelt that Charlie Ba.s.sett's winning streak hadn't ended and he sent his apologies, but nothing was going to get him to walk away from the table.

The last to show up was Tip Tipton, who galloped down Third Street, raising quite a cloud of dust behind him. He turned and reached the hotel a few seconds later.

"Are we ready to go?" he asked.

"Yes, we're all a.s.sembled now," said Roosevelt. "You seem anxious to get started."

"That I am," replied Tipton. "I didn't see any sense waking up the desk clerk at my hotel, so I jumped down from my balcony." He frowned furiously. "That G.o.dd.a.m.ned b.a.s.t.a.r.d actually took a shot at me!"

"Just for running out on your hotel bill?" laughed Mickelson. "The nerve of some people."

"My view exactly," said Tipton. He turned to Roosevelt. "Even if he's after me, and I didn't hear no more shots, he'd be half a mile down Third Street and running on foot, and he's packing one h.e.l.luva belly, so I don't figure he's going to bother us in the next couple of minutes, but it might be a good idea to be on our way."

"Just where are we going, Theodore?" asked Johnson.

"I'll know in a minute," replied Roosevelt, looking down the street. He couldn't see what he was looking for, but then a small, golden bird swooped down from the roof of the Grand and headed toward the north end of town.

"Well?" asked Mickelson.

"I'm going to feel like an idiot saying this," answered Roosevelt, "but follow that bird."

"One of Geronimo's pets?" asked Sloan as they began riding north.

"Or Geronimo himself," said Roosevelt. "He'll get us most of the way, but we'll do the last part on our own."

"Why?" asked Sloan.

"Because he has no defenses against War Bonnet."

"Neither have you, you know," said Michelson.

"Wrong," said Roosevelt, flas.h.i.+ng him a grin. "I have my Rough Riders."

"Against a creature that's bigger than an oak tree and stronger than an elephant and can't be hurt," said Mickelson with a laugh. "That must bring you real comfort."

"Have you ever seen an elephant?" asked Roosevelt curiously. "I don't mean in a zoo, but in the wild."

"I hate to break it to a proud American," said Mickelson, "but we have mighty few elephants strolling down Piccadilly or bathing in the Thames."

"I mean, have you ever hunted them in Africa."

"Good G.o.d, no. Why would I?"

Roosevelt shrugged. "No reason. It's just that Britain's thousands of miles closer to Africa than we are."

"By that same token, you're closer to South America than we Brits are. Have you ever gone hunting for jaguar?"

"Not yet," said Roosevelt. "But one day I will." He looked ahead to make sure the bird was still in sight. "But for the moment, let's concentrate on hunting for the medicine men who stand in the way of America's progress."

"This probably ain't a bad time to ask," said Sloan. "Just what do we propose to do when we get there?"

"The four medicine men we find where we're going-there may be more, but we know we're after Dull Knife, Spotted Elk, Cougar Slayer and Tall Wolf-are the men who are currently in control of War Bonnet, so to disable him we're probably going to have to kill them. I'd love to talk them into deactivating him, but if they were the talking kind, they wouldn't have created him in the first place."

"Might as well wipe out the whole lodge," said Hairlip Smith.

"Not if it's avoidable. This isn't a war; we will be living side-by-side with the various Indian tribes once Geronimo has ended the spell."

"You can say it isn't a war, but will they agree?"

"Let's hope so," said Roosevelt. "I want as little bloodshed as possible."

"And as fast as possible, if this critter is anywhere near the lodge," added McMaster.

"I don't know about this," said Martinez, who had been silent since they began riding.

"About what?" asked Roosevelt.

"The white men want to cross the Mississippi. The Indians say no, and now you're riding off to kill the ones who are stopping you." He paused, frowning. "Let's say we succeed. You kill the medicine men and War Bonnet and anyone else who stands in your way, Geronimo lifts the spell, and the United States expands to the Pacific."

Roosevelt stared at him, wondering what the point was.

"So you reach the Pacific," continued Martinez. "And then you turn your gaze south, and there is Mexico. Do you also kill any Mexican who says, 'No, this is my land, you may not come here?'"

Roosevelt frowned. "As far as I know, the United States has never had any territorial ambitions in regard to Mexico."

"I believe you are telling the truth," said Martinez, "but how far do you know? Many of you are my friends, and I do not wish any of you ill, but I have decided I cannot ride with you."

"I understand your concerns," said Roosevelt, "and I can only a.s.sure you that I believe them to be groundless."

"Let us hope so," said Martinez. "I would not like to take up arms against you." He jerked on the reins, and his horse reared and spun around. "Adios!" he cried as he rode back to the south.

"Our n.o.ble few just got n.o.bler and fewer," remarked Mickelson wryly.

"He has a legitimate concern," said Roosevelt. "If we live through this, I'll do everything within my power to see to it that his fears remain only fears, that the United States has no territorial interest in Mexico."

"In the meantime, we're one less gun," said Hairlip Smith, "and a d.a.m.ned good gun at that."

"Well, we're certainly not turning back," said Roosevelt. "The rest of you will just have to shoot a little faster and a little more accurately." Suddenly he smiled. "When you come right down to it, what's one gun more or less when we're facing a bunch of warriors and four powerful magicians?"

"You ever study maths at Harvard?" asked Mickelson.

The Rough Riders all laughed at that, and continued on their way to their confrontation with War Bonnet and the mages who controlled him.

"SO HOW FAR ARE WE TRAVELING, DANDY?" asked Sloan as the sun reached its zenith and started moving slowly to the west.

"We'll know when we get there," replied Roosevelt.

"Could be worse," said Hairlip Smith. "Could be heading south. I always figured that's pretty much what h.e.l.l feels like, except for the occasional stream."

"And the occasional widow-woman," added Turkey Creek Johnson. "It's an unforgiving land. Lot of men die before their time."

"Of course, our friend Doc has added to that total," said Smith.

"I wonder how many men he's really killed?" mused Tip Tipton.

"Probably more than he's been credited with," offered Johnson.

"Or less," said Smith. "I know he got into a couple a fights down in Mexico. They say he killed eight Mexicans at a poker table."

"Ah, come on now," said Johnson. "You ever see nine men play poker all at once?"

"Maybe they had friends," said Smith.

"What do you think, Theodore?" asked Johnson.

"I think he's a good man with a gun or a deck of cards," replied Roosevelt. "Probably a good dentist, too."

"No, I meant how many men do you think he's killed?"

Roosevelt shrugged. "Is that important?"

"Maybe," said Hairlip Smith. "Ain't you curious to know if you're riding with the greatest shootist there ever was?"

"That'd be Johnny Ringo," said Sloan.

"Bulls.h.i.+t!" snapped Smith. "Johnny Ringo was killed in a gunfight." He spat on the dusty, featureless ground. "h.e.l.l, he was killed in two gunfights."

"Can't be Billy the Kid. After all, Doc killed him."

"Ringo and the Kid were never the greatest anyway," said Morty Mickelson. "And neither is Doc Holliday, for that matter. Just because John Wesley Hardin's been locked away for seven or eight years doesn't make him any the less a killer."

"How many men do you think Hardin killed?"

"n.o.body knows," answered Mickelson. "But they proved something like forty-two in his trial. You'd have a hard time proving Doc killed much more than ten or twelve once the witnesses grow old and die."

"If they met in the street, I'd take Doc anyway," said Sloan.

"Maybe five years ago," replied Johnson. "But he's a sick man. He walks with a cane more often than not, and he's always coughing up blood. I just don't figure he can be as fast, or have as true an aim, as he used to."

"Well, h.e.l.l, Hardin hasn't hit leather in years," shot back Sloan. "What kind of shape can he be in?"

"He's out of practice, not out of health," said Mickelson.

Suddenly Roosevelt pulled Manitou to a halt and scanned the horizon.

"What is it, Theodore? You spotted some Indians already?"

"No," said Roosevelt. "I've lost him."

"Lost who?"

"The bird I was-" began Roosevelt. Then: "Ah! There he is!"

"Is that Geronimo?"

"I don't know if it's Geronimo himself," said Roosevelt, "but I know whoever or whatever it is, Geronimo's responsible for it."

"Why doesn't he just come along as Geronimo?" asked Mickelson.

"Because War Bonnet was created expressly to kill Geronimo."

"And you," said Sherman McMaster. "He was created to kill Geronimo and you."

"Right," chimed in Johnson. "I never figured Geronimo as a coward."

"He's not," said Roosevelt.

"He's also not riding beside us in human form," said Johnson.

"He's a medicine man," replied Roosevelt. "His skills lie elsewhere."

"I notice not being a blooded soldier or Indian fighter ain't stopped you from coming along."

Roosevelt grinned. "Let me see a show of hands. How many of you would be here if I'd stayed behind?" No hands were raised. "There's your answer," he concluded.

"Well, at least stay behind us, Dandy," said Sloan. "This critter is looking for you, not us."

"More to the point," added Mickelson, "if what Doc says is right, he can't hurt any of us except you anyway."

"I don't know about that," answered Roosevelt.