"That's what most people think," replied Holliday. "We made a deal. I got the money, he got the fame-and the book sales. I think in the long run he'll make out better than I did. Part of my reward money's gone already, and Garrett's book keeps on selling."

"I had no idea," said Roosevelt.

"Well, now that you know, put that idea out of your head, or at least to the back of it where you keep other stuff you're never going to tell anyone." Holliday downed his drink. "It was an interesting couple of days. I killed the Kid, and Geronimo killed Hook Nose. I think he'd just had enough. Hook Nose and Geronimo were the two most powerful medicine men, and they did everything in concert. I think if Hook Nose hadn't gone against him, Geronimo would never have sent for you or been willing to deal."

"Interesting," said Roosevelt.

"History," replied Holliday with a shrug.

Roosevelt finished his lamb chops, went to work on one of Holliday's, and finally ordered dessert.

"You sure you won't have some?"

Holliday shook his head, and suddenly smiled. "I probably haven't got the strength any more to tote around a hundred twenty-five pounds. I'd better keep away from sweets."

Roosevelt laughed, dug into his pie, and a few minutes later the pair of them ascending the stairs to Roosevelt's room.

"I see the maid closed the window," noted Holliday as they entered and Roosevelt closed the door behind them. "Better open it."

Roosevelt nodded, crossed the room, and opened the window, then sat down on his desk chair while Holliday seated himself on the edge of the bed.

"I kept wondering," said Holliday, "just how the h.e.l.l you expected to lead your men-"

"My Rough Riders," Roosevelt corrected him.

"Your Rough Riders," amended Holliday, "when you didn't have any idea of who you were up against or where you could find them. But you've sent for Geronimo, and he's going to show up and tell you."

"I hope so," said Roosevelt. Another grin. "If he doesn't, I'm going to feel mighty silly tomorrow morning."

"Just out of curiosity, how did you send for him? It's not as if he's got a mailbox."

"I know he'd be curious about why I was recruiting the Rough Riders," said Roosevelt. "I don't know if he was the jackrabbit or a snake or one of the birds, and I figure he didn't want to show himself in front of what on the surface seems like a gang of gunfighters, but every time I saw an animal watching me I told it to come to my room tonight, that I was going after War Bonnet in the morning."

"He can be forgiven for thinking you've a.s.sembled a gang of gunfighters," said Holliday with a sardonic smile. "Now let's hope that one of those animals was actually him."

"You think not?"

"No, I'm sure he's keeping a close eye on you," answered Holliday. "That's why I think he'll probably stop you from going in the morning. You're the white man he chose to make peace with."

"There's not going to be any peace until we take care of this War Bonnet and see to it that the medicine men don't create another one."

"d.a.m.n it, Theodore, I've seen him! You're not going to beat him, not on your own, not with your Rough Riders, not even with Tom Edison inventing a new weapon a day."

"I have to try, Doc."

"Why?" demanded Holliday.

"Do you think he'll stop if he kills me and Geronimo? If you were a nation, and you created a weapon that killed your two most powerful enemies, would you willingly disa.s.semble it? Or would you say, 'We stopped them at the Mississippi and protected our land without anything remotely resembling War Bonnet. Now, how much of their land can we take back with him?'"

"s.h.i.t!" muttered Holliday irritably. "Don't you get tired of always being right?"

"I a.s.sume that's a compliment."

"It's a complaint. If you were wrong on occasion, I'd be in Leadville, preparing for a comfortable if brief old age."

"You're an interesting man, John Henry Holliday," said Roosevelt with a smile. "Your compliments sound like insults, and your insults sound like compliments."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then a bird fluttered down out of the sky and perched on the window sill.

"If that's you, come on in," said Roosevelt. "And if not, then I hope you have the instinct to fly away fast, because my friend Doctor Holliday is not in the best of moods."

Before the words were out of his mouth, the bird had hopped down onto the floor, and an instant later had become Geronimo.

"Welcome to my humble abode," said Roosevelt.

Geronimo and Holliday gave him identical looks that each said: Cut the c.r.a.p.

"You have a.s.sembled a group of men," said Geronimo. "You plan to lead them against War Bonnet. I tell you now that they cannot kill War Bonnet any more than Holliday could."

"I know," said Roosevelt.

Geronimo looked at him questioningly.

"But I have to a.s.sume," continued Roosevelt, "that he cannot kill them any more than he could kill Holliday. If you can tell us where to find the medicine men, my men and I will see to it that they never create another War Bonnet."

"You have not thought this through, Roosevelt," said Geronimo. "War Bonnet cannot kill them, but he can kill you. In fact, he was created to kill you, and to kill me, and for no other purpose than that."

"I know."

"In fact, the only reason he is not here now is that he is still not fully complete. They can only bring him to life and direct him for a few minutes at a time." Geronimo's expression hardened. "But he will grow stronger every day. You must send your men to fight the medicine men, but stay well behind them where you will be safe."

Roosevelt shook his head. "I belong at the head of my men. I can't send them where I fear to go."

"But-"

"I'm no safer here. Doc was just a few hours out of town when he confronted War Bonnet. What's to stop him from coming to Tombstone and tearing apart every building in town until he finds me? If I'm going to die, it'll be fighting against my enemies, not hiding from them."

Geronimo laid a hand on Roosevelt's shoulder. "I knew you were a brave man. I only wish you were a little less brave." He sighed. "But then you would not be the man whose soul I found in the spirit world. When do you plan to leave?"

"My Rough Riders will be here at sunrise," answered Roosevelt.

Geronimo turned to Holliday. "You will be riding with them?"

"h.e.l.l, no," said Holliday. "I've already seen War Bonnet. I can't accomplish anything by seeing him again. As for the medicine men, if they lived at the edge of town I'd lead the charge, but I'm not much good on horseback, and I know there's no Indian lodge besides yours within a two-day ride, so by the time we got to where we're going, I'd probably be too weak to pull my gun out of my holster." He grimaced. "Besides, I've got my own problems. War Bonnet broke John Wesley Hardin out of a Texas jail, in exchange for his promise to kill me. I've never met him, but I know all about him. This is no Frank McLaury or Billy Clanton we're talking about, or even a Billy the Kid. This is the greatest killer in the West, a man with more than forty notches on his gun-and he's coming straight for me, so I've got to be ready for him. Unless it was all a lie."

Geronimo closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "It was not a lie. The man Hardin is no longer in jail."

"You can see him?" asked Holliday.

Geronimo nodded an affirmative.

"How soon will he get here?"

Geronimo shrugged. "It depends on Hardin. He has already killed two men."

"That's Hardin, all right," said Holliday. Suddenly he paused, staring off into the distance. "I wonder how fast he really is."

"I'll be d.a.m.ned!" exclaimed Roosevelt. "I do believe you're actually looking forward to this."

"As my friend Johnny Ringo was fond of saying, whatever your area of skill, you seek compet.i.tion at the highest level."

"Your friend? You killed him!"

"He was my friend anyway," said Holliday. "Truth to tell, I had a sneaking fondness for the Kid, too." He smiled. "It's a lonely trade, especially at the top, and you find you have things in common with the best of your rivals. Hardin and I have one thing in common that no other shootists have."

"What's that?" asked Roosevelt curiously.

"We're both over thirty."

"From what I hear, that's unique for a shootist, all right." Roosevelt turned to Geronimo. "What medicine men are we looking for, and are they in one lodge or spread out all over the West?"

"All the medicine men created War Bonnet, but only four currently control him, and they are banded together in a lodge two days north of Tombstone."

"Who are they, and how will we recognize them?"

"They are Spotted Elk, Dull Knife, Tall Wolf and Cougar Slayer, and this is not a permanent lodge. It was built when they built War Bonnet, and there are no women or children there, only warriors."

"How many?"

Geronimo held up ten fingers, closed them into fists, then repeated the process four more times.

"Fifty," said Roosevelt. "And we're nine or ten. Do they have rifles?"

"Yes."

"And where will War Bonnet be?"

Geronimo shrugged. "I do not know. He may attack before you reach the lodge, or while you are there, or not at all. He obeys their orders."

Holliday could tell from Roosevelt's face that he was already digesting and processing the minimal information Geronimo had given him and was working out a strategy.

"And how will we find this lodge?"

"I will lead you," answered Geronimo.

"As a bird?"

"You will know me when you see me," said Geronimo. "But I tell you now, I will guide you to the lodge, but I will not enter it. You and I, we are the only two men in the world who are defenseless against War Bonnet."

"Is he also defenseless against us?" asked Roosevelt.

Geronimo's eyes widened. "I do not know."

"I guess we'll find out, won't we?" said Roosevelt, suddenly anxious for morning to come.

But he found he was speaking only to Holliday, as a small bird flew out the window and was soon riding the warm thermals to the south.

ROOSEVELT HAD RISEN, SHAVED, BATHED, eaten a hearty breakfast, and was sitting astride Manitou before English Morton Mickelson, the first of his Rough Riders, showed up.

"Good morning, Morty," said Roosevelt.

"Oh G.o.d!" moaned Mickelson, shading his eyes, something his top hat didn't do. "You're not cheerful in the morning, are you?"

"Why not? It's a beautiful day."

"No day is beautiful that begins with the sun rising."

"You could use some coffee."

Mickelson made a face. "Didn't anyone ever tell you? Brits drink tea."

"All right, have some tea. We've got a little time before everyone's a.s.sembled."

"I hate tea."

"I think this is a little early for whiskey, even for Doc," said Roosevelt, amused. "You'll just have to suffer."

"Speaking of Doc, where is he?" asked Mickelson. "That's one man I'd swear never saw the sun in the eastern half of the sky except when he's on his way home from a hard night of gambling."

"He won't be coming with us."

Mickelson frowned. "Bad decision."

"It was his, not mine," answered Roosevelt. "But I agree with him. You've seen him. We could be in for a hard two-day ride. It could d.a.m.ned near kill him."

"But if it didn't, you'd be happy to have his gun on your side. He's the best I ever saw, except maybe for Johnny Ringo."

"He killed Johnny Ringo."

"The second time around," noted Mickelson. "Who the h.e.l.l knows what a dead man's responses are like? I'd have been more impressed if he'd been the first one to kill him."

"You don't seem to find it at all unusual that Ringo required killing twice," said Roosevelt.

Mickelson shrugged. "Couldn't happen in England. But what the h.e.l.l-this is the New World, and clearly you haven't exorcised all your ghosts and demons yet."

Luke Sloan and Hairlip Smith rode up.

"'Morning, Dandy," said Sloan.