made that slip about the Bisleys. Bailey was a bundle of nerves. He simply did not fit the profile of a Network agent. But then, maybe he wasn’t. At least, not part of the inner group. The Network was not above recruiting outsiders, often using criminals from the 27th century in their varied operations. They had contacts in the Temporal Underground, as well. Bailey could be a deserter from the future who was working for them. And, as such, he would be easily expendable.
The question was, what would they do now that they knew he’d broken Bailey’s cover and revealed his own? Would they move against him or would they rush to shut down their operation in this sector and clear out? Much as he wanted to nail them. Scott had to recognize that the preservation of temporal continuity came first. If he alarmed the Network into shutting down and moving out, it would, in effect, have accomplished the primary goal of his mission. It would eliminate a potentially disruptive influence in this temporal sector. Taking the Network people into custody would be highly desirable, of course, but his first priority had to be safeguarding temporal continuity.
What would Forrester want him to do? The Old Man would not want him to take any unnecessary risks. He’d want him to wait until the others had arrived and convey what he had learned to Colonel Priest, who would take command of the mission. Much as he wanted to make a try for Bailey. Scott knew that the smart thing to do, for now, would be to wait.
“Play it safe. Neilson.” he said to himself, out loud. “Keep a rein on it and play it safe.”
He released the horse he’d rented and slapped it hard on the rump, sending it running down toward the road. It would make its way back to the corral in town. He’d clock back, to avoid any risk of being ambushed on the road, and simply say the horse had shied at a snake or something and had thrown him just outside of town. Then he’d wait and see who came for him. Would it be Wyatt Earp, unpersuaded by Doc Holliday and intent on seeing him on the next stage out of town? Would it be Demming, intent on avenging his brother’s death? Or would it be the Network?
He grimaced, wryly. This was playing it safe?
5
Lucas and Andre got off the stage and waited for the driver to unload their bags. It hadn’t been a very long ride from Benson, perhaps twenty-five or thirty miles, but it hadn’t been very comfortable, either. Every jolt had been communicated to the passengers and the dust had seeped in everywhere. Both Lucas and Andre were well accustomed to discomfort, and there had been times in their careers when they had traveled in far less comfort. Lucas had never found anything to beat the sheer misery and exhaustion of forced marches with the Roman Legions and Andre had ridden for days on horseback, wearing full medieval armor. Nevertheless, they were grateful when the stage finally arrived in Tombstone.
Though they could easily have clocked into Benson, they had taken the Southern Pacific all the way from Lordsburg, the better to establish their cover. Lucas was posing as a writer from New York City, working on a series of articles for newspapers and magazines on the “Wild West.” Andre was his wife, secretary, and personal assistant. Finn Delaney would arrive separately, on horseback, with the cover of a drifter, a cowboy looking for work in the boomtown or on one of the ranches in the area. Between them, they hoped to be able to cover all contingencies.
Their first step was to check into the Grand Hotel, where Lucas made sure the desk clerk knew why he was in town. A promise to put the desk clerk’s name in the article he was writing immediately turned the man into a font of information enhevilbaS5about “the town that had a man for breakfast every morning.” The next step was to stop in at the hotel bar, where Lucas interviewed the bartender and some of the patrons, who regaled him with stories about the Earps, Bat Masterson. Doc Holliday, and the young gunslinger who had recently arrived in town, the Montana Kid.
“You missed Bat Masterson,” the barman told him. “He had to leave town and go to Dodge to help out his brother. Jim, with some trouble he was havin’ back there. But you’ll still find plenty to write about right here in Tombstone. mister. There’s trouble brewin’ you mark my word.”
“What sort of trouble?’ Lucas asked him.
“There’s bad blood between the Earps and some of the cowboys.” said the barman, like the Clantons and the McLaurys. And a lot of folks in town are startin’ to choose up sides Even the newspapers are getting’ in on it.”
“What’s it all about?” asked Lucas, while Andre sat beside him, taking notes, he bought another drink and invited the barman to have one for himself.
“Well, near as I can tell, the bad blood between the Earps and the McLaurys got started back around July of last year,” said the barman, a loquacious sort who clearly liked to gossip. He needed little prompting. “See, some soldiers came to town one day to see the Earps Seems some mules got stolen from out at Camp Rucker and they wanted some help from the local law to track the rustlers down. Well, sir, the trail took ’em out to the McLaury ranch. They found some mules, all right, but they couldn’t prove that they were Army mules. Frank McLaury said that they were his and the Earps thought that the brands were changed. Anyways, they couldn’t prove the mules were stolen and the Army didn’t get ’em back, but Frank McLaury didn’t like bein’ called a thief and he went around tellin’ anyone who’d listen how the Earps were spreadin’ lies about him.”
“Did Frank McLaury steal the mules?” asked Lucas.
“I’m not sayin’ he did and I’m not sayin’ he didn’t.” said the barman, but it wouldn’t have been the first time stock was rustled around here There’s been a lot of that sort of thing goin’ on. And lately, there’s been some stage robberies, as well. We got a lot of silver bullion goin’ out and not all of it gets to where it’s goin’. See, lot of small ranchers around here have done a bit of rustlin’ from time to time. There’s nothin’ unusual about it. Folks take a ride across the border and come back with some stock. Mexicans do the same damn thing. Been goin’ on for years. Only now there’s talk that some of the ranchers around here have taken to robbin’ stages as well as rustlin’ stock and some of that talk is comin’ from the Earps and others. And that ain’t the half of it.”
“What’s the rest?” asked Lucas, paying for another couple of drinks.
“Well, the Mclaurys are real tight with the Clantons.” said the barman. “And they’re all friends of Sheriff Johnny Behan. Now Johnny, he’s not a bad sort, you understand, but he doesn’t go out of his way to look for trouble, if you get my drift. Now a while back, this girl showed up in town, name of Josie Marcus. She was an actress came to town with a show called Pinafore on Wheels. Seems she knew Johnny from before. Anyway, the two of them set up house together and Johnny was introducin’ her to everybody as his fiancee. Only it seems that Josie didn’t care too much for the sort of company that Johnny kept. Boys like the Clantons, the McLaurys, Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo. They’d have these all-night poker games out at Johnny’s place and I guess Josie didn’t like it. Anyway, it wasn’t long before they had a fallin’ out and Josie took up with Wyatt Earp.”
“So you’re saying there’s a love triangle involved?” asked Andre.
“Well, now, I’m not tellin’ you any secrets,” said the barman. “The whole town knows all about it. Part of it’s a question of property, too. In more ways than one. See. Johnny and Josie built their house on money Josie’s daddy sent her, only Johnny owns the lot it stands on. One time, when Wyatt was away, Johnny came to try and dispossess her. Only Wyatt had asked Morgan to look in on her from time to time and Morg was there. They had some words and Morg knocked Johnny clear off the front porch_ Johnny didn’t bother Josie anymore after that, but you can see why he’s never been too fond of the Earps. And it’s like their trouble with property was just like the trouble many folks had here in town.”
“How’s that?” asked Lucas, plunking down for two more drinks.
“Well,” said the barman, pouring. “Arizona’s still a territory, you understand, and we ain’t never had much in the way of law around here. Back when the boom got started, there was a good deal of lot jumpin’ goin’ on and it got so it wasn’t very clear who owned what, you understand. Well, the mayor at that time. Alder Randall, went and transferred all the titles to the company of Clark and Gray. Seems the law let him do that, for the purpose of getting all the paperwork cleared up or somethin’. Only what Clark and Gray did was turn around and demand payment for all the lots in town and those who wouldn’t pay were threatened with eviction. Some of the boys they used to do the dirty work were the same cowboys who were doin’ a lot of the rustlin’ in these parts. It turned into one big mess, let me tell you, and there’s still lawsuits pending over the whole thing. It pretty near split the town in half. There was Clark and Gray and their friends in the County Ring, who own the Nugget and hold some of the offices in
