Masterson stared at him, then slowly turned each card over to reveal the full house. He whistled softly.
“Son. I don’t know how you did that, but if you could teach me. I’d be much obliged. That’s my own deck and I know it’s clean.”
“All it takes is practice. Mr. Masterson.” said Scott. He reached out and pulled a silver dollar from Masterson’s ear, then walked it across his fingers, back and forth, snapped them, and the coin was gone. “Lots and lots of practice.”
Masterson shook his head with awe. “There sure is a lot more to you than meets the eye.”
Neilson smiled. “You could say that.”
“You see about all you want to see here?”
“Yeah. I guess I have.” said Scott
They were so small, they could easily have been missed, but he had known what he was looking for. Three tiny holes in the adobe wall. Burned into it by lasers.
The dining room in the Grand Hotel boasted an elegant menu for a town like Tombstone, but Neilson avoided the dubious French cuisine and ordered a thick steak, instead. He had it with a buttered baked potato and some beans and washed it down with a passable claret. He was about halfway through his meal when a soft, feminine yoke behind him said. “You’re the Montana Kid, aren’t you?”
He turned slightly and saw a lovely young girl of about eighteen or nineteen, with long, silky, ash-blonde hair and large, powder-blue eyes. She was wearing a long, light blue calico dress with lace around the collar and high-buttoned shoes. Her creamy complexion was absolutely flawless, she had a small, tuned-up nose, a slightly pointed chin and naturally pouting lips. He thought she was one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal,” she said, coming around in front of him, “but I saw what you did yesterday and I thought it was about the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You were there? “ Scott said, with some surprise. He could hardly believe he had missed seeing her.
“I work there.” she said, lowering her eyes slightly. “I… I wasn’t dressed like this. I’m one of the saloon girls. My name is Jennifer. Jennifer Reilly.”
Neilson wiped his mouth and stood up “Pleased to meet you, Miss Reilly. And no. you’re not interrupting me. I’d appreciate the company. Please, sit down.”
He pulled out a chair for her.
“Call me Jenny. What do your friends call you-Montana?”
He grinned. “No, not really. My friends call me Scott. Scott Neilson.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Scott” She watched him as he sat back down. “I see you’re not wearing your gun.”
“No, Virgil Earp took it from me. Said there was an ordinance against carrying guns in Tombstone.”
“That doesn’t seem to stop a lot of people.” she said.
“No, it doesn’t, does it?”
“Aren’t you afraid? To be without your gun, I mean. Those cowboys that you shot have some pretty nasty friends.”
“Like Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo?”
“And Ike Clanton and the McLaury brothers: she said.” I see you’ve already heard of them”
“Yes. Bat Masterson warned me about them”
“And you’re not worried?”
“Well, yes. I confess I am, a little. But the law’s the law, isn’t it? And I’ve only just arrived in town. I don’t want to get on the wrong side of a man like Virgil Earp. His brother, Wyatt, already seems to have taken a dislike to me.”
“Oh, that sounds like Wyatt, all right.” she said. “Wyatt’s very protective of his brothers. And to him, any man who wears a gun and uses it the way you do means trouble. And wait till you meet Morgan.”
“Oh? What’s he like? He a lawman. too?”
“He’s a shotgun guard on the Wells Fargo stage. You’ll know him when you see him. Those three Earp brothers look as alike as peas in a pod, but they’re all really very different. Virgil is the steady one. He’s calm-tempered and looks to avoid trouble if he can. Wyatt’s steady, too. I guess, only in a different way. If there’s trouble, he doesn’t waste too many words. He’ll buffalo you with his six-shooter just as soon as look at you “
To “buffalo” someone, Neilson remembered, meant to get the better of him in some way, usually by force. What Jenny was referring to was Wyatt Earp’s penchant for braining miscreants with the barrel of his gun and knocking them unconscious. In a Wild frontier town like Tombstone, it was nothing more than sensible law enforcement. Why give a man a chance to draw his gun if you can crack his skull first and avoid all the unpleasantness?
“And as for Morgan,” Jenny continued, “he’s real hot tempered and can be quite a handful when he’s been drinking. He hangs around with that Doc Holliday a lot. Wyatt and Doc are close friends too, which seems a little strange. I guess, seeing as they’re so different Wyatt doesn’t drink at all and Doc drinks quite excessively. When him and Morgan have had a few too many, watch out!”
“I’ll try to remember that.” said Scott. “May I offer you some wine?”
“Oh. thank you. no.” She hesitated. “Well, maybe just a smidgen? It goes to my head so.”
Scott smiled and signaled the waiter for another glass.
“Anyway,” Jenny went on. “Morgan? He only gets riled when he’s had a few too many, but that Doc Holliday, he’s got a real short fuse. You wouldn’t think it to look at him, him so frail and sickly and coughing all the time-he’s got consumption, you know-but he’s a real killer. They say he’s one of the deadliest men with a six-shooter in the whole Southwest.”
“Really? You seem to know a lot about the people in this town.”
She blushed and looked down. “You must think I’m an awful gossip.”
“No. I don’t. Just that I’m new in town and it’s useful to hear such things. Might help me stay out of trouble.”
“Seems to me like you’ve already found some. With Slim and Jack, I mean. Not that anybody’s going to miss them overmuch. They were rustlers, you know. Real troublemakers.”
“I gather there’s a lot of rustling going on around here,” Neilson said.
“
Oh, yes. And there’s a lot who don’t mind it. They can get their cattle and their horses cheaper when they’re rustled up from Mexico. Or from one of the bigger spreads around here. People don’t ask a lot of questions when they’re getting a bargain. Course, the big ranchers, they don’t like it one bit, but they don’t have all that much to say about it. The rustlers don’t bother the smaller ranches and they usually get a real welcome there. And they never cause much trouble in town, either. At least they didn’t until lately.”
“Oh? What changed things?”
“Well, there’s a lot of money in this town right now. It’s growing bigger every day. And that’s a lot of bullion going out on the two stage lines. That can be real tempting for some people who don’t have too many scruples.”
Jenny downed her “smidgen” of wine in one quick gulp and held her glass out for more as she spoke. Scott refilled it.
“So you’re saying the town’s attracting a bad element?”
“Oh, there’s no doubt about that! Sheriff Johnny Behan? You run into him yet?”
“No, I can’t say I have.”
“Well, you ask me, he’s one of them. He’s a real handsome man, though his hair’s thin on top, and he goes around like he’s God’s gift to women. He’s good friends with Ike Clanton and his bunch. And his deputy, Billy Breakenridge, he’s not much better. Sadie calls him Billy Blab, because he talks so much and is real full of himself.”
“Sadie?”
— Oh, that’s right. you wouldn’t know her. Actually, her name is Josephine, but her middle name is Sarah so her close friends call her Sadie. She used to be Johnny Behan’s girl, only now she’s with Wyatt and there’s been bad blood between the two men ever since. See, her daddy paid for her to build this house in town when she was engaged to Johnny, only now Johnny’s on the outs with her and she’s with Wyatt, but Johnny owns the lot the house is standing on and one night, he came to, try and dispossess her. Only Morg was there and he knocked Johnny clear off the front porch.”
“Sounds like things keep jumping around here.” Neilson said, with a smile. He refilled Jenny’s glass as she held it out again for another smidgen. “I just might stick around a while.”