for nearly a week now, John Henry McAllen was in place on the veranda. Almost everyone who was anyone in Austin passed by Bullock's, located near the center of town, and Singletary had it on good authority that quite a few prominent persons—most of them Houston partisans, or neutral taking a moderate stance between Houston's "Peace Party" and Lamar's "War Party"—had dropped by to engage McAllen in conversation. McAllen, mused the newspaperman, looked like a caged tiger on the hotel veranda. This was a man of action, unaccustomed to idling away the hours in a cane chair, drinking Kentucky bourbon and smoking Havana cigars and watching the world go by. Old, rumpled Dr. Artemus Tice was at his side, reading the day's edition of the City Gazette, a corncob pipe gripped in his teeth. The half-breed named Joshua sat on the porch steps, whittling on a stick. He looked about as friendly as a rattlesnake. But he did not give Singletary pause; the editor strolled right past Joshua and along the veranda to McAllen and Tice.
"Gentlemen. Please, don't get up."
"I wasn't going to," said McAllen. His frosty gaze slid past Singletary to the Texas Ranger and did not warm at all. "Hello, Wingate." He spoke with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
"Singletary," said Tice, amused, "don't you think 'therapeutic vampire' is a bit extreme? I do confess to owning a thumb lancet, and a twelve-blade scarificator, but I'm really not much for bleeding, these days, and haven't practiced cupping, either wet or dry, in years. I think quinine and calomel sufficient for the treatment of malaria, and while I'm no Thomsonian, I do believe there is something to be said for certain herbal remedies. After all, quinine itself is derived from the bark of the cinchona tree, so why not raspberry leaves, spiced bitters, and Lobelia seed? Still, I must admit, 'therapeutic vampire' has a clever ring to it."
Singletary smirked. "I am glad you are not offended, Doctor." He turned to McAllen. "I must say, Captain, that your presence here is a mystery to me. I would wager you have not lingered for this length of time in one place your entire life. You are a pure American, sir. Your accomplishments provide indisputable proof. Born in haste, you finish your education on the run, marry on the wing, make a fortune at a stroke. Your body is a locomotive, your soul a high-pressure engine, your life a shooting star—and death will overtake you like a flash of lightning. And yet here you sit, like a storefront Indian. I cannot help but wonder why."
"And I wonder why I should answer you," replied McAllen, barely civil. "You have already made my personal affairs your business, and without any assistance from me. Besides, you have never allowed the truth to restrain you."
"Some of my acquaintances suggest your presence here endangers my health. But I do not hold with that notion. You are an honest man, Captain, that much I willingly concede. And I might have cause for concern if what I printed had been scurrilous lies. But they are not lies. We both know as much."
"Were you a gentleman I would demand satisfaction," snapped McAllen. "But all of Texas knows you are not."
"How very southern, sir. I have never aspired to that distinction, no."
Impatient, Eli Wingate stepped forward, a belligerent cast to his sun-darkened features. "I know why you're here, McAllen. Just as I know that I will see you again in San Antonio. I give you fair warning—stay out of affairs that do not concern you."
"Peace on the frontier does concern me, sir, and I will go where I please and do what I must to achieve it."
Wingate glowered. Dislike simmered between the two men, and Singletary decided to defuse the situation before it got out of hand.
"We will intrude no further upon your leisure, gentlemen," said the newspaperman. "Good day to you both."
"And good day to you," replied Tice cheerfully. "If you have the need to be purged or bled, Singletary, feel free to call upon me. I will do the honors
"Gentlemen. Please, don't get up."
"I wasn't going to," said McAllen. His frosty gaze slid past Singletary to the Texas Ranger and did not warm at all. "Hello, Wingate." He spoke with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
"Singletary," said Tice, amused, "don't you think 'therapeutic vampire' is a bit extreme? I do confess to owning a thumb lancet, and a twelve-blade scarificator, but I'm really not much for bleeding, these days, and haven't practiced cupping, either wet or dry, in years. I think quinine and calomel sufficient for the treatment of malaria, and while I'm no Thomsonian, I do believe there is something to be said for certain herbal remedies. After all, quinine itself is derived from the bark of the cinchona tree, so why not raspberry leaves, spiced bitters, and Lobelia seed? Still, I must admit, 'therapeutic vampire' has a clever ring to it."
Singletary smirked. "I am glad you are not offended, Doctor." He turned to McAllen. "I must say, Captain, that your presence here is a mystery to me. I would wager you have not lingered for this length of time in one place your entire life. You are a pure American, sir. Your accomplishments provide indisputable proof. Born in haste, you finish your education on the run, marry on the wing, make a fortune at a stroke. Your body is a locomotive, your soul a high-pressure engine, your life a shooting star—and death will overtake you like a flash of lightning. And yet here you sit, like a storefront Indian. I cannot help but wonder why."
"And I wonder why I should answer you," replied McAllen, barely civil. "You have already made my personal affairs your business, and without any assistance from me. Besides, you have never allowed the truth to restrain you."
"Some of my acquaintances suggest your presence here endangers my health. But I do not hold with that notion. You are an honest man, Captain, that much I willingly concede. And I might have cause for concern if what I printed had been scurrilous lies. But they are not lies. We both know as much."
"Were you a gentleman I would demand satisfaction," snapped McAllen. "But all of Texas knows you are not."
"How very southern, sir. I have never aspired to that distinction, no."
Impatient, Eli Wingate stepped forward, a belligerent cast to his sun-darkened features. "I know why you're here, McAllen. Just as I know that I will see you again in San Antonio. I give you fair warning—stay out of affairs that do not concern you."
"Peace on the frontier does concern me, sir, and I will go where I please and do what I must to achieve it."
Wingate glowered. Dislike simmered between the two men, and Singletary decided to defuse the situation before it got out of hand.
"We will intrude no further upon your leisure, gentlemen," said the newspaperman. "Good day to you both."
"And good day to you," replied Tice cheerfully. "If you have the need to be purged or bled, Singletary, feel free to call upon me. I will do the honors
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