“That’s right, Jenny.” Wyatt said, looking at her sympathetically. “I know. And I also know what kind of man the Kid is. He’s a gunfighter and there’s enough information to make him a suspect. I’m going to have to take him into custody and let the court decide.”
“But you don’t understand.” she protested. “You can’t!”
“I have to, Jenny,” Earp replied, misunderstanding the reason for her distress. “And for his sake. I hope the Kid comes along quietly. He’ll get fair treatment. I promise. I’ll continue to look into this. I have no intention of letting a man hang on the word of someone like Johnny Ringo.”
He gave O’Fallon and his men a hard stare.
“Just tellin’ the truth. Marshal.” said O’Fallon, with a shrug. “I saw what I saw.”
“That’s what you say, Ringo.” Wyatt Earp replied. “But I think I’ll ask around just the same and find out if anybody else saw the same thing.”
Jenny felt someone come up beside her and touch her elbow. She turned to see Indian Charlie standing by her side, he merely nodded at her once, then slipped away through the crowd She felt a tightening in her stomach. Drakov wanted to see her.
As she moved away from the crowd, she felt herself torn by indecision. If she refused to respond to Drakov’s summons, he would know that something had gone wrong. If she went to him now, Scott would be placed under arrest and thrown in jail and there would be no one to warn his friends of what had happened. Perhaps if she could find them quickly and let them know that Scott was in trouble, then go back and see Drakov…
She ran down the street, toward the Grand Hotel. She ran inside and up the stairs, to Lucas’ Priest’s room. She pounded on the door. ‘There was no answer. In desperation, she pounded again and this time, the door opened, but it wasn’t Lucas Priest. It was another man, with a large, bushy moustache and red-rimmed eyes. His nightshirt bulged out over his paunch.
“What in tarnation…?”
“Where’s Mr. Priest?”
“There ain’t no one by that name here, Missy. But say… will I do?”
She backed away, then turned and ran down the stairs and out into the street.
Ike Canton stood at the bar in Hafford’s Saloon, hunched over a whiskey. In defiance of the town ordinance, there was a six-gun stuck in his belt, beneath his coat, and a Winchester. 44–40 rifle lying on the bar before him. The bartender kept glancing at the rifle nervously. Clanton was working up a real snootful and guns and whiskey didn’t mix.
“Want me to hold on to that gun for you. Ike?” the bartender asked.
Clanton slapped a beefy hand on top of it. “It’s stayin’ right here.” he replied, in a surly voice. “There’s men in this town lookin’ to murder me and if they come lookin’ for a fight, they’ll get one!”
He glanced around at the other patrons in the bar. “You all heard that!” he said, loudly.
“I don’t want any trouble in here, Ike.” the bartender said.
“Ain’t me that’s causin’ trouble.” Clanton replied. I was mindin’ my own business when that Doc Holliday invited me to jerk my pistol! I couldn’t defend myself because I wasn’t heeled, but that Virgil harp was right there with him and you think he arrested Holliday for makin’ a play against an unarmed man? No. sir! I tell you, they’re all in it together, those Earps and Holliday! They’ve been spreadin’ lies about me, tryin’ to frame me, and now they’re out to murder me, as well!”
He patted the rifle once again. “That’s stayin’ right there! Man’s got a right to protect himself! Gimme another whiskey!”
“Maybe you’d better go home and go to bed Ike “ said the barman. “You’ve already had quite a lot to drink-”
“I said, another whiskey!” Clanton shouted, slamming his hand down on the bar. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere! I ain’t goin’ to bed. I’m goin’ to stay right here in town and as soon as the Earps or Holliday show themselves out there on that street, the ball opens! They’re gonna have to fight!”
The bartender nervously poured him another shot of whiskey. Clanton tossed it back. He was tired of being caught in the middle of this whole thing. First Ringo and the others coming in and taking over, telling him and his boys what to do, then the Earps and Holliday, with their high and mighty ways, doing everything they could to run him off, acting like they were the lords of the most and trying to turn people against him. He was tired of it. Sick and tired. Things were working out just fine till those damn Earps showed up with Holliday.
He had complained bitterly to Johnny and the others, telling them what lies Wyatt Earp was spreading. A lot of the boys were even acting as if they believed it. And Wyatt was a liar. He’d promised that he would keep their deal secret and he’d lied about that. He probably never intended on paying that reward money, after all, Son of a bitch would probably have kept it for himself. Now he was left was nothing. There was no reward money, because Head and Leonard had to go and get themselves killed in Hachita, and Crane was dead as well. So the whole thing fell apart, only Wyatt had broken his promise and told about the deal and now some of the boys weren’t sure if Clanton wouldn’t also double-cross them for some reward money if he were to get the chance.
“Those damn Earps are always gettin’ in the way!” he’d said to Curly Bill, earlier that day. “And I’ve had about all I can take of Doc Holliday. as well!”
“Then maybe you ought to do something about it.” Curly Bill had said.
“Yeah, maybe I oughtta.”
“Maybe you should fight.”
“What. just me? Against the four of ’em?”
“Take Frank. Tom and Billy with you.” Curly Bill had said. “We’ll back you up.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ve had a bellyful of the Earps myself. I’ll get the boys together and we’ll ride on into town tomorrow. You call the Earps out for a fight. When they come out, we’ll all be waitin’ for ’em.”
“One more time.” said Ike now, pointing at his shot glass.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Ike?” asked the barman.
Clanton fixed him with a baleful glare. “You gonna give me another drink or not?”
The barman poured another whiskey. Ike drank it down. fortifying himself with liquid courage-Alone. he would have dreaded going up against the Earps and Holliday. Even if he had Frank, Tom and Billy along with him. But with Curly Bill and all the boys backing him up, he had nothing to worry about. The Earps and that bastard, Holliday, wouldn’t stand a chance.
11
Colonel Brian Cooper and two of his Temporal Ranger officers took a quick look around at Delaney’s room in the Aztec. The rooming house was located at the northwest end of town, on the corner of Third and Fremont. It was a very small room, with only one window looking out over Fremont Street from the second floor. There was a bed, a chair, a bureau, a washstand and basin, a small table and a mirror. That was about it as far as furnishings went. There was a small closet and a door leading out into the hallway. With four of them standing in the room, it felt cramped. Cooper’s two officers, Lieutenant Georgeson and Captain Tilley, did not look very pleased with the arrangements.
“This the best you could do?” asked Tilley, dubiously. He was tall and dark, with a trim, athletic build, he moved with the erect posture and controlled tension of the professional soldier, a man who seemed relaxed, yet prepared to react quickly to any threat on an instant’s notice.
“I’m afraid so.” Delaney replied.
Georgeson shook his head, he was a stark contrast to the swarthy Tilley. blond and fair complected, slightly shorter and slimmer, with a contemplative, vaguely studious air about him. He gave the impression of being careful and deliberate. “Keeping this place secure isn’t going to be easy,” he said. “And we’re looking at possible hostilities from Drakov. the Network and the S. 0. G.?”
“What we’ve got is what we’ve got,” said Cooper, curtly. “We’re going to have to make the best of it.” Colonel Cooper, commander of the elite Ranger Pathfinder division based in Galveston, was tall and trimly muscular, with sharp, angular features and curly, light brown hair. His high-cheekboned face was covered with coarse stubble
