"Mind if I ask what your business is, stranger?" he asked.

I wonder what your reaction would be if I told you I was retired? thought Holliday. Aloud he said, "I'm looking for my friend, Theodore Roosevelt."

Suddenly a huge smile spread across the bearded man's face. "Well, I'll be damned. I thought we might never meet. You're Doc Holliday, right?"

Holliday nodded his head. "Right."

The man extended a hand. "And I'm Bill Cody! Buffalo Bill at your service."

Holliday dismounted carefully. "Got a place where I can put my horse for a while?"

"Absolutely." Cody put two fingers in his mouth and emitted a shrill whistle, which startled the horse but brought a man running. "This here is the famous Doc Holliday's horse," announced Cody, "so make sure he's got grain and water and shade. Take his saddle off and wipe some of the dust off it."

"Yessir, Mr. Cody, sir," said the man.

"That's Buffalo Bill, damn it!" snapped Cody.

"Yessir, Mr. Buffalo, sir," said the man, leading the horse away.

"It's getting harder and harder to find good help these days," said Cody to Holliday. Then he shrugged. "Oh, well, I suppose he's good with a shovel."

"Is Theodore around?" asked Holliday.

"I believe he's out hunting for dinner," replied Cody. "Remarkable man. Never slows down, never stops. He's got damned near the equivalent of a college education in bones from Professor Marsh, he runs to and from the dig site twice a day just to keep fit, he brings back enough deer and elk to feed the whole damned camp, and when everyone else is sleeping you can see the lantern burning in his tent while he sits there reading his books."

"That's Theodore, all right," agreed Holliday. "Where's Mr. Marsh?"

"Mucking around with his bones in there," said Cody, jerking a thumb in the direction of the largest building. "And let me give you a hint: Don't call him Mister."

"Yeah, I know," said Holliday. "Same with Cope."

"What is it with these geniuses?" laughed Cody.

Holliday shrugged. "Beats the hell out of me."

"Ah, well, the pay is good, and the rewards are even better," said Cody, lighting up a cigar.

"Rewards?"

Cody smiled. "Why do you think I closed my Wild West show down? If the Professor digs up anything besides bones, like, say, the mummified corpse of one of these dinosaurs, I get to exhibit it in my show for a year."

"Not a bad deal," agreed Holliday.

"Oh, it'll be a hell of a draw," enthused Cody. "But there's something that could draw even better."

"Oh?"

Cody nodded. "Doc Holliday. Hell, every man and boy from here to Maine has read about the O.K. Corral, and how you tracked down Billy the Kid."

"I'm a dying man," answered Holliday. "I don't plan to spend my final days being gaped at by a bunch of strangers."

"Well, if you change your mind, the offer's open, and I think you'll like what I'm willing to pay."

"You don't want a skinny, used-up, consumptive shootist who's got one foot in the grave," said Holliday. "Get this Annie Oakley I've heard about. Give the people something to look at."

Cody grinned. "I'm ahead of you, Doc. I've already signed her, and as soon as this excursion is over, I'm going after Calamity Jane too."

"She's no shootist," said Holliday.

"True," agreed Cody. "But she's the best damned storyteller you'll ever run across. Even gave the scribes some cock-and-bull story about how she had Bill Hickok's baby, and they bought it." He chuckled. "Not a one of them could count."

"How about Belle Starr?" asked Holliday. "From all I hear, that lady is a shootist."

"But a dumb one," replied Cody. "They arrested her again just before I came out here."

"Well, two out of three won't be bad."

"I'd still rather have Doc Holliday."

Holliday shook his head. "Some other lifetime."

A burly, bearded, balding man walked out of the largest building, wearing a dust-covered suit and tie, and Holliday knew that this must be Othniel Charles Marsh.

"If that's a saboteur, Mr. Cody, you should have shot and hung him up the minute he arrived," said Marsh. "And if he's a visiting dignitary, then you should have brought him to me and introduced us."

"I'm no saboteur, and I'm sure as hell no dignitary," said Holliday.

Marsh frowned. "Then what are you?"

"Just a used-up old dentist."

Marsh turned questioningly to Cody.

"Say hello to the most famous dentist in the West," said Cody with a grin. "Doc Holliday, this here gentleman is the most famous paleontologist in the country, Professor Othniel Charles Marsh."

"Pleased to meet you," said Holliday.

Marsh frowned. "If you are, then extend your hand like a gentleman."

Holliday frowned, but reached his hand forward for Marsh to clasp it in his own firm grip.

"You'll stay for dinner, of course," said Marsh.

Holliday nodded. "Thanks."

"Mr. Roosevelt-another visitor-should be back with the main course any time now."

"I know," replied Holliday. "He's who I've come to see."

Marsh glared at him for a moment, then turned on his heel and re-entered the building without another word.

Holliday stared at the spot where Marsh had been. "Is he like that all the time?"

"This is one of his good days," replied Cody with an amused grin. "I assume you've come from Cope's camp. How is he to deal with?"

"Pleasanter," answered Holliday. "Though I'm told that the easiest way to put him in a foul mood is to mention Professor Marsh."

"Marsh is always in a foul mood," said Cody, pausing to pull out a cigar and light it. "But if you want to put him in a killing rage, just mention Cope."

"You know," said Holliday thoughtfully, "I've seen my share of altercations, even been in a few of 'em, but I can't recall any two men ever hating each other quite like these two."

"You want to know the crazy part?" asked Cody. "They were actually friends right after the War Between the States. Even went out on a couple of digs together."

"Hard to imagine," said Holliday.

"They've been at each other's throats for maybe fifteen years now," continued Cody. "I think Professor Cope has used up most of his fortune on this...I don't know what you call it, a contest or a feud. Professor Marsh is getting close to broke, too, but he's got some college and museum money behind him."

"Damned waste of money, if you ask me," offered Holliday, backing up a step as the breeze changed and began wafting Cody's smoke toward him.

"Oh, I don't know. When they started, only three species of dinosaur had been found in the country. Last I heard, we're nearing eleven hundred and twenty species, all but those first three and maybe twenty others due to Professors Marsh and Cope. Maybe if they didn't hate each other's guts we'd still have only three species."

"Well, just speaking from one minute of personal experience," said Holliday, "I can sympathize with Cope. I don't have any problem at all hating Marsh's guts."

"He doesn't know he's being rude or mean," said Cody. "He just doesn't think about anything but dinosaurs."

"And Cope," said Holliday.

"And Cope," agreed Cody.

Suddenly the stillness of the afternoon was broken by a single rifle shot.

"Dinner," said Cody with a smile.

Holliday nodded. "I can't remember Theodore ever missing what he aimed at, or needing two shots to bring down a deer or an elk."

"He's a remarkable man, like I said," remarked Cody. "I'd love to get him in my show, but somehow I know he's destined for more important things than that."

"With him the sky's the limit," agreed Holliday. "I imagine someday he could even be Mayor of New York City."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised," said Cody. His cigar went out and he re-lit it. and offered one to Holliday, who refused.

"Wish I could, but my lungs aren't up to it," said Holliday. "On the other hand, if you've got a bottle stashed somewhere around here..."

"You know, I just happen to," said Cody with a smile. "Let's mosey over to the bunkhouse and..." He stopped and looked off to his right. "Ah, hell-too late. Here's Theodore."

Roosevelt rode into camp, leading a pack horse that had a dead deer sluing over its back. Cody whistled again, four different notes this time, and a crew of men emerged from the bunkhouse to unload the deer.

"Glad we weren't digging this afternoon," said Cody, "or you and I would have had to skin and gut the damned thing. Welcome back, Theodore."

"Thanks," said Roosevelt, joining them. "Hello, Doc. What are you doing here?"

"Just making sure that you sent the telegram," said Holliday.

Roosevelt frowned. "Do I strike you as irresponsible?"

"No, of course not," said Holliday. "I also wanted to make sure the Comanche hadn't paid you a surprise visit along the way. And to tell you the truth, I was getting tired of Cope's camp."

"You're going to get tired of this one a lot quicker," said Roosevelt.

"I know."

"Ah!" said Roosevelt with a grin. "You've already met Professor Marsh."

"Yes."

"What do you think of him?"

"He's probably not a lot worse than Johnny Ringo when he was mean drunk."

Roosevelt threw back his head and laughed.

"I'm glad somebody finds it funny," said Cody.

"Any trouble with the Comanche here?" asked Holliday.

"They watch us from time to time, from a distance," answered Cody. "But that's about it."

"None at Cope's camp either," replied Holliday. "Though we came close the other day." He turned to Roosevelt. "That's why I wanted to make sure you sent it."

"I think our mutual friend may have overestimated the problem," said Roosevelt.

"I hope so," said Holliday. "But..."

"But?"

"But I saw him a few hours ago, and he doesn't seem to think so."

"I have absolutely no idea what you two are talking about," complained Cody.

"And with a little luck, you never will," said Roosevelt. "Now let's go start a fire so we're not eating raw deer."

"We've got men to do that, Theodore."

"Got to keep fit," said Roosevelt, heading toward a pile of firewood. "Besides, why should they have all the fun?"

Cody turned to Holliday. "Your friend has a very odd notion of fun."

"If you think that's odd," said Holliday, half-smiling, "you ought to see his notion of relaxing."