“No.”
“That was Falcon MacCallister.”
“Falcon MacCallister? Are you sure?”
“Who is Falcon MacCallister?” Carter asked.
“He’s a gunfighter,” Gibson said.
“Do you know him?”
“I’ve never met him, but I’ve sure heard of him. How do you know that was Falcon MacCallister?” Gibson asked the sutler.
“I know because I used to live in Tombstone. I met him when he was down there. He ran with the Earps and Doc Holliday then.”
“I’ll be damn,” Gibson said in awe. Then, his awe turned to fear as he remembered that MacCallister had threatened to kill him. His hand started shaking and some of the whiskey in his glass splashed out.
“You all right, Gibson?” Carter asked.
“Yeah,” Gibson said. “I’m all right. Sutler, bring us another round.”
Nearly an hour after what should have been the changing of the guard, Lieutenant Kirby, the Officer of the Day, showed up and saw Gibson and Carter drunk. He had two men with him.
“Place these two men under arrest and take them to the guardhouse,” Kirby demanded.
Under the escort of the two privates, Gibson and Carter returned to the guardhouse, not as part of the guard detail now ... but as prisoners.
When Private Wilson came into the guardhouse a little later, he threw his hat onto the bunk in anger.
“What the hell is going on around here?” he shouted. “I was an hour late getting relieved.”
“Ask those fellas,” one of the other guards said, pointing to the cell at the back of the guardhouse.
Wilson walked to the back, then saw Corporal Gibson and Carter in jail.
“Corporal Gibson, Sergeant Carter, what are you two doing in here?” he asked in surprise.
“That’s Private Carter,” Gibson said.
“Oh, yeah, Private. But what are you doing in here?”
“I tell you what,” Gibson said. “Wait until the others are asleep, then come back here and we’ll tell you.”
Wilson looked confused. “Why should I wait until the others are asleep?”
“Because I’m going to tell you where my money is,” Gibson said, “and I don’t want anyone else to hear it.”
“Your money?”
“Shhh,” Gibson said, putting his finger over his lips. I told you, I don’t want anyone else to hear. Wait until the others are asleep, then come back.”
“All right,” Wilson agreed, nodding his head. He walked back up to the front of the guardhouse, then lay on his bunk with his hands laced behind his head. “What money?” he asked aloud.
“What?” Pettigrew asked. Pettigrew was in the bunk next to his. “What’d you say?”
“Uh, nothing,” Wilson replied. “I was just thinking out loud, that’s all.”
Unlike Carter and Gibson, Wilson had been in the Army for less than a year, and had never been anything but a private. It was also likely that he would never be anything but a private, because he had not found Army life to his liking. Wilson had grown up on a farm in Missouri and left when a young girl on a neighboring farm got pregnant and told him he was the father.
Wilson knew that it was possible that he could be the father, but it was also possible for at least four others that he knew. He wasn’t ready to get married yet, especially if he was going to be tricked into it, so he left in the middle of the night and went to St. Louis, where he enlisted at Jefferson Barracks.
He regretted it almost immediately, and wished many times that he was back home, even if he did have to get married. Besides which, Lou Ellen wasn’t that bad-looking a girl. He could’ve done worse.
An hour later, when snores rent the darkened interior of the guardhouse, Wilson got up from his bunk and walked quietly back to the cell.
“You fellas asleep?” he called into the darkened cell.
“No, we’re awake,” Gibson said. He and Carter appeared just on the other side of the bars, barely visible in the little ambient light that was available.
“All right,” Wilson whispered. “I’m here. What is this about your money?”
“It’s not just my money,” Gibson answered. “It’s Carter’s money, and your money too, if you have balls enough to come with me tonight to get it.”
“Come with you tonight?” Wilson shook his head. “How am I going to go anywhere with you tonight? You are in jail.”
“You noticed that, did you?” Gibson said.
“Well, yeah, I mean ...”
