“What ... what’re you goin’ to do with us, mister?” the one named Jimmy asked.
Falcon let out a long sigh. “Well, I’ll be damned if I know,” he said. “I just came into town for a drink, meal, and bath. I guess we can go on over to the jail, like we were going to, and I’ll prove to you that I’m not a wanted man.”
At that moment, Falcon noticed that the man in the dark suit, the one who had been playing cards, got up from his corner table and approached them.
“Good afternoon, Mr. MacCallister. My name’s John Henry Holliday.”
“Holliday?” Falcon asked. Then something about the man matched a description he had heard once. “Would you be Doc Holliday?”
“That’s what they call me,” Doc Holliday replied.
Falcon had heard of Doc Holliday, and he wondered why he was stepping in to take a hand in the situation.
“Perhaps I can be of some assistance here,” Doc said, answering Falcon’s unasked question. He nodded toward the two deputies. “These two misguided gentlemen lack the intelligence of a cow turd. But I’m sure they thought they were just doing their job.”
Falcon nodded. “As slow as they are, maybe they should start thinking about some other form of employment.”
Doc chuckled. “I imagine that thought is going through their little pea-sized minds right now.”
Doc turned toward Deputy Stillwell. “Suppose I take Mr. MacCallister over to the city marshal’s office and have Wyatt check him out. Would that satisfy you boys?”
Both nodded their heads. “Yes, sir, Doc,” Stillwell answered.
Doc glanced back toward Falcon.
“That all right with you?”
“Sure, fine, just so I get something to eat before much longer.” Falcon holstered his pistols, but so quickly had he drawn them that Stillwell and Jimmy knew they were in as much danger from him now as they had been when he had the guns in his hands. They kept their hands up.
Oh, for cryin’ out loud, will you two idiots put your hands down?” Doc said to them. Then, turning back to Falcon, he said, “It is all right for them to put their hands down, isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course,” Falcon replied.
With a sigh of relief, both Stillwell and Jimmy lowered their hands.
“I tell you what, Mr. MacCallister,” Doc began.
“Falcon,” Falcon corrected.
“All right, Falcon it is. Right after we see Wyatt and get this straightened out, we’ll go to Campbell and Hatch’s saloon. They’ve got the best food, and what’s more important, the best whiskey in town.”
Falcon’s reverie was interrupted by the sudden outbreak of a deep hacking cough, coming from the hall just outside his room. Falcon moved to his door and opened it, just as Doc Holliday was using the key to his own room.
“Damn. I’m going to have to write a letter to the governor,” Falcon said. “It appears that they will let just anyone into the state now.”
Doc looked up with a quick flash of anger. Then, as he recognized Falcon, the anger left his face to be replaced by a broad smile.
“Well, as I live and breathe ... barely ... if it isn’t Falcon MacCallister!”
“In the flesh,” Falcon said.
Doc stepped toward him with his hand extended. “Damn, Falcon, I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you.”
“Hello, Doc,” Falcon replied, extending his own hand. “What’s new?”
“I’m dying,” Doc replied. He laughed. “But then there is nothing new about that, is there? I’ve been dying for the last fifteen years. I tried to get someone to shoot me along the way, but I kept running into idiots who couldn’t shoot their way out of a paper bag. What are you doing in Colorado?”
“I live here, remember?” Falcon said.
“Oh, yes, you have your own town, as I seem to recall. MacCallister, Colorado.”
“Not my town,” Falcon said. “It’s just a town with my father’s name.”
“Well, come on in and have a drink. I’ve got whiskey in my room.”
“Sounds good to me,” Falcon said.
Doc returned to his door and started to unlock it, but before he could do so, he broke out into another spasmodic round of coughing. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and Falcon saw that it was already discolored with flecks of blood.
After the coughing spell, Doc put the handkerchief away and smiled wanly at Falcon.
“I beg your pardon for that outbreak,” he said.
Falcon didn’t answer, because he knew no answer was required. Doc managed to get the door unlocked; then he pushed it open and made a gesture of invitation with his hand.
