Doc’s room was obviously a residential rather than a transient room, for it had, in addition to the hotel furniture, a few things that were Doc’s personal property. Next to a chair, there was a table on which lay a deck of cards spread out in an ongoing game of solitaire. There was also a cabinet, which Falcon did not have in his room.
Doc reached into the cabinet to pull out a bottle and two glasses. He poured the whiskey, then handed one of the glasses over to Falcon.
“Here’s to old times,” Doc said, lifting his glass.
Falcon returned the salute. Then, stepping over to the cabinet, he examined Doc’s collection of photographs.
“That was my mother,” Doc said, pointing to the photograph of an attractive woman who was sitting with the stiffness so necessary for photographs.
“And that one is ... ?” Falcon asked, pointing to the photo of a younger woman.
“Big Nose Kate,” Doc said.
“Oh, yes, I thought I recognized her. Whatever happened to her?”
Doc picked up the picture and looked at it for a while, then put it down.
“She went back to whorin’,” he said dismissively.
“Sorry.”
“Hell, it don’t matter none to me. If she can still sell her ass, more power to her, I say.”
“Here’s one of Wyatt, I see.”
“Yes.”
“You ever hear from Wyatt?”
“From time to time,” Doc said. “I think he’s out in California, or maybe up in Alaska now. You know how he moves around.”
“Yes,” Falcon said.
Part of Wyatt’s moving around, Falcon knew, had to do with the fact that he had revenged the murder of one brother and the crippling of another by going on a killing rampage that didn’t end until every one of his adversaries were dead.
“So, do you stay in MacCallister all the time now, or do you still move around a bit?” Doc asked.
“I move around.”
“Do you ever get back down to Arizona?”
“I haven’t been there for a while.”
“Would you like to go back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I would someday. If I had a reason to go.”
“What if you owned a silver mine? I mean one that actually had silver. Would that be reason enough for you to go back to Arizona?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps it would. Why do you ask? Do you have something in mind?”
“It just so happens that I own a silver mine down there in the Cababi Mountains, near Oro Blanco.”
“Do you now?” Falcon said, smiling. “How is it doing?”
“I can answer that in two words,” Doc said. “It isn’t.”
“I thought you said it actually had silver.”
“It does, and that’s the hell of it. Truth is, I think there’s probably ten times more silver still there than has been taken out. But I can’t get anyone I trust to run it.”
“That can be a problem.”
“How would you like to own the mine?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’ll sell it to you for five thousand dollars.”
“Doc, if, as you say, there is still a lot of silver in the mine, you know it is worth more than five thousand dollars. Why would you sell it so cheaply?”
“What good is a lot of money to me now?” Doc asked. “Look, I figure I’ve got no more than six months left to live ... a year at the absolute most.” He took in the room with a wave of his arm. “I’m running out of money, and when I can no longer pay for this room, I’m going to be kicked out. I’ll wind up in the poorhouse.”
For the first time since he had known Doc, Falcon saw a little bit of fear in Doc’s eyes.
“I don’t want to wind up in a poorhouse, Falcon,” he said. “Five thousand dollars would keep me in comfort, here in this room, for the rest of my life.”
Falcon stroked his chin. He had more money now than he would ever spend. He did not need a silver mine. He would rather just give Doc five thousand dollars and be done with it, but he knew that Doc wouldn’t take a handout from him.
Falcon smiled.
