Read Online Weird West 04 - The Doctor and the Dinosaurs by Mike Resnick - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mike Resnick
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let's go hide this body in the woods,” said Holliday, indicating a forest about a mile northeast of camp. “No sense letting his friends know what happened.”
It took them about ten minutes to cart the corpse off, hide it under some leaves and branches, and return to camp. Roosevelt had already left.
“I'll sit watch if it's all the same to you,” said Holliday.
Younger agreed, leaving Holliday to sit out by a fire, wondering just what he was watching for.
H OLLIDAY AWOKE TO THE SMELL OF BEEF cooking over a fire. He wrinkled his nose, tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't shut out the voices coming from his left.
Finally he sat up, realized he'd been sleeping on a blanket stretched beneath him on the floor of the cabin. He looked around, saw that he was the only person remaining in the cabin, got to his feet, and made his way painfully to the doorway, where he winced at the brightness of the scene before him.
Half a dozen of Cope's men—three white, one black, two Chinese—were squatting around the fire while a Mexican tended to the meat. Cole Younger was standing by the door.
“Good morning, Doc,” he said.
“Never saw one yet,” growled Holliday.
“Cheer up. We'll have breakfast ready in a couple of minutes.”
“Meat?”
“Steaks,” said Younger.
“I think I'll drink my breakfast, thanks,” muttered Holliday.
“I'll tell Jorge to put on some coffee.”
“Don't bother,” said Holliday, inhaling the odor of frying meat deeply and fighting back the urge to vomit. “I've got my breakfast right here.” He tapped the pocket that contained his flask.
“Too early in the day for me,” said Younger.
“Too early in the day for me, too,” replied Holliday. “That's why I need a drink.”
Younger laughed and gave Holliday a friendly slap on the back. “You're a right funny man! I'm glad we never had to face each other down in Texas.”
“Whack me on the back one more time,” said Holliday, placing his handkerchief to his mouth and coughing, “and we may face off right here and now.”
“Like I said, you're a damned funny feller,” said Younger.
“Am I smiling?” replied Holliday. He looked around. “Where's the boss?”
“The Professor?” repeated Younger. “Said he wanted to scout out a site to the north and east of here. He'll be back soon.”
“North and east?” said Holliday sharply.
“Yeah.”
Holliday pointed. “That way?”
“Right.”
“And you let him go?”
“Why not?” asked Younger. “I'm not his keeper.”
“That's where we hid the body last night. They've got to know he's missing, and you let Cope go off alone in that direction. I assume he's alone?”
“I never thought of that, Doc,” admitted Younger, frowning.
“I also assume he's no marksman?”
“He doesn't even carry a gun.”
“All right,” said Holliday. “I'll go after him.”
“I'll come with you,” said Younger.
Holliday shook his head. “Probably nothing'll happen—but if it does we need someone who they'll listen to in order to organize a defense.”
Younger nodded. “Yeah, you got a point. We haven't heard any gunfire, so he's probably okay—but if he's not…”
“If he's not, he's dead, and this figures to be their next target,” concluded Holliday. “Where the hell's my horse?”
Younger told one of the Chinese to fetch it while Holliday checked his pistol and gun belt.
“You need three or four more bullets, Doc,” noted Younger, studying his belt.
“Makes no difference. If I've used so many that I have to reach behind me for the missing ones, I'm already dead.”
The man arrived with Holliday's horse.
“Give a sick old man a hand up,” said Holliday. The man cupped his hands, Holliday placed his foot in them, and the man helped boost him to the saddle.
“You can't imagine how much I hate horses,” were Holliday's parting words as he rode off to the north and east.
It took him about five minutes to reach the spot where they'd left the
It took them about ten minutes to cart the corpse off, hide it under some leaves and branches, and return to camp. Roosevelt had already left.
“I'll sit watch if it's all the same to you,” said Holliday.
Younger agreed, leaving Holliday to sit out by a fire, wondering just what he was watching for.
H OLLIDAY AWOKE TO THE SMELL OF BEEF cooking over a fire. He wrinkled his nose, tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't shut out the voices coming from his left.
Finally he sat up, realized he'd been sleeping on a blanket stretched beneath him on the floor of the cabin. He looked around, saw that he was the only person remaining in the cabin, got to his feet, and made his way painfully to the doorway, where he winced at the brightness of the scene before him.
Half a dozen of Cope's men—three white, one black, two Chinese—were squatting around the fire while a Mexican tended to the meat. Cole Younger was standing by the door.
“Good morning, Doc,” he said.
“Never saw one yet,” growled Holliday.
“Cheer up. We'll have breakfast ready in a couple of minutes.”
“Meat?”
“Steaks,” said Younger.
“I think I'll drink my breakfast, thanks,” muttered Holliday.
“I'll tell Jorge to put on some coffee.”
“Don't bother,” said Holliday, inhaling the odor of frying meat deeply and fighting back the urge to vomit. “I've got my breakfast right here.” He tapped the pocket that contained his flask.
“Too early in the day for me,” said Younger.
“Too early in the day for me, too,” replied Holliday. “That's why I need a drink.”
Younger laughed and gave Holliday a friendly slap on the back. “You're a right funny man! I'm glad we never had to face each other down in Texas.”
“Whack me on the back one more time,” said Holliday, placing his handkerchief to his mouth and coughing, “and we may face off right here and now.”
“Like I said, you're a damned funny feller,” said Younger.
“Am I smiling?” replied Holliday. He looked around. “Where's the boss?”
“The Professor?” repeated Younger. “Said he wanted to scout out a site to the north and east of here. He'll be back soon.”
“North and east?” said Holliday sharply.
“Yeah.”
Holliday pointed. “That way?”
“Right.”
“And you let him go?”
“Why not?” asked Younger. “I'm not his keeper.”
“That's where we hid the body last night. They've got to know he's missing, and you let Cope go off alone in that direction. I assume he's alone?”
“I never thought of that, Doc,” admitted Younger, frowning.
“I also assume he's no marksman?”
“He doesn't even carry a gun.”
“All right,” said Holliday. “I'll go after him.”
“I'll come with you,” said Younger.
Holliday shook his head. “Probably nothing'll happen—but if it does we need someone who they'll listen to in order to organize a defense.”
Younger nodded. “Yeah, you got a point. We haven't heard any gunfire, so he's probably okay—but if he's not…”
“If he's not, he's dead, and this figures to be their next target,” concluded Holliday. “Where the hell's my horse?”
Younger told one of the Chinese to fetch it while Holliday checked his pistol and gun belt.
“You need three or four more bullets, Doc,” noted Younger, studying his belt.
“Makes no difference. If I've used so many that I have to reach behind me for the missing ones, I'm already dead.”
The man arrived with Holliday's horse.
“Give a sick old man a hand up,” said Holliday. The man cupped his hands, Holliday placed his foot in them, and the man helped boost him to the saddle.
“You can't imagine how much I hate horses,” were Holliday's parting words as he rode off to the north and east.
It took him about five minutes to reach the spot where they'd left the
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