"Then we won't be any worse off than we are now," answered Roosevelt. "And there's always a chance that he's even stronger here than when he gets farther away from the medicine men."

"I'm tired of talking," said Sloan, backing away and heading to his horse. He had just begun galloping toward the lodge when War Bonnet suddenly turned and raced back to protect his creators.

"Now!" cried Roosevelt, and the six remaining men mounted their horses and began galloping back toward Tombstone.

Sloan caught up with them a few minutes later, and though they kept watchful eyes on every possible ambush site, there was no sign of War Bonnet.

"Well," said Mickelson at last, "I think we hit one of the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."

"I agree," said Johnson. "The first couple of bullets into the hut did it. Nothing else got a response like that from War Bonnet."

"I doubt that we killed him, though," said Tipton. "Ten seconds later War Bonnet was acting just the same as before."

"So what's next, Theodore?" asked Mickelson. "You're going to need a cavalry to get to the medicine men, and all the cavalries I'm aware of are on the other side of the Mississippi."

"I agree," said Roosevelt. "Killing the medicine men seemed the likeliest answer, but not only are they well protected here, now that they know they're a target, I can see them moving a few hundred miles north and west."

"Can they still control War Bonnet from that far?"

Roosevelt nodded. "And if they can't, they'll get help. Remember: there are a lot of medicine men, and only Geronimo wants to lift the spell."

"Can they really control him?" persisted Mickelson.

"They can stop an entire nation from expanding beyond the Mississippi," answered Roosevelt. "I think you can be sure they can control one magical monster."

"Yeah, makes sense," said Sloan. "Still, you can't just wait around hoping that he can't find you."

"I had hoped I could neutralize him by killing his creators," said Roosevelt, "but in retrospect, it was doomed from the start. We know there were four medicine men there, but even if we'd killed them, there are dozens more all over the West, and doubtless some of them would have taken over control of him."

"I think if I were you, I'd go back East," said McMaster, tying a fresh handkerchief over his wound.

"I'm not a quitter."

"No one thinks you are, Theodore," continued McMaster, "but you've just explained why you can't neutralize the d.a.m.n creature, so what's left?"

"I can kill it," said Roosevelt, his jaw jutting forward pugnaciously.

"HE'S NOT FOLLOWING US," remarked Luke Sloan, looking back for the twentieth time.

They were half an hour from the lodge, and there had been no sign of War Bonnet.

"It's early yet," said Roosevelt.

"Got to be midafternoon," noted Hairlip Smith.

Roosevelt shook his head. "Early in War Bonnet's existence. When I first met Geronimo a few days ago, he didn't even exist. When Doc encountered him out beyond Tombstone, he was gone in seven or eight minutes. Today he didn't last for much more than ten or twelve minutes."

"What are you getting at, Theodore?" asked Morty Mickelson.

"They're still working on him, making him stronger-and I have a feeling it's taking a lot out of Dull Knife, Spotted Elk, and the others; that War Bonnet feeds on their psychic powers, maybe even their physical strength. It would make sense for him to catch up with us, trail us, wait for the moment when I'm not surrounded, and strike, and we know he can go much farther afield, because Doc encountered him a day and a half from here...but instead he's gone again. There might be some other reason, but that's what I think is happening."

"So you figure he's going to get stronger, and stick around longer?" asked Turkey Creek Johnson.

Roosevelt nodded his head. "I've seen what he can do now, and just as importantly, I've seen what he can't do. I'll talk to Thomas Edison and Ned Buntline, and we'll see what kind of weapon they can devise."

"So you never thought you could kill him this time?" demanded Johnson. "But you didn't tell us that when you got us to ride with you."

"I didn't think I could hurt the puppet," said Roosevelt. "My hope was that we could kill the puppeteers and cut the strings."

"Nice turn of phrase," said Mickelson. "Maybe you ought to give this up and become a writer."

"I am a writer."

"Then why aren't you at home writing?"

"I don't believe in limiting myself."

"I don't know, Theodore," said Mickelson. "There's a mighty big difference between not limiting yourself and going up against War Bonnet again."

"I've seen him, I know what he can and can't do," said Roosevelt. "Next time I'll be fully prepared."

"I got a question," said McMaster.

"Yes?" said Roosevelt.

"War Bonnet was built to kill you and Geronimo, right? And the reason for it is that his builders don't want the spell lifted that keeps the country on the other side of the Mississippi, right?"

"Right."

"So here's my question," continued McMaster. "If he kills you, there's every likelihood that Geronimo will find someone else to deal with. Maybe President Arthur, maybe U. S. Grant, but someone. So killing you is only a stopgap measure. So why doesn't he go after Geronimo first? After all, if he does, you have no one to deal with but the guys who spent part of today trying to kill you."

"d.a.m.ned good question," said Roosevelt. "I want to say that Geronimo's a lot harder to kill, but that doesn't hold water, since War Bonnet was created solely to kill both of us. So I think the likely answer is that while Geronimo may be easy for him to kill, he's d.a.m.ned difficult for him to spot. I always look like a man, but Geronimo can turn himself into a jackrabbit, a bird, a toad, d.a.m.ned near anything. War Bonnet didn't have to jump today, and I'm sure if he did, those legs could send him twenty feet in the air...but what good is that when Geronimo can fly to the top of a tree?"

"Okay," said McMaster. "I suppose it makes sense."

"You look like you have doubts," said Roosevelt.

"If you know Geronimo can do those things, surely they know,"

"Certainly," agreed Roosevelt. "But knowing he can do it doesn't mean they know how to make War Bonnet do it." He paused. "The proof is in the pudding. If he could change into all those things, he'd have gone after Geronimo first for the very reasons you mentioned."

Although Roosevelt was certain his reasoning was sound, he elected not to stop during the night, and the horses walked on until they began pa.s.sing the abandoned silver mines on the outskirts of Tombstone the next day at noontime.

"Well, we made it, safe and sound and intact," said Roosevelt. "I want to thank you men for your help, for without you I would surely have died at War Bonnet's hands yesterday."

"Any time you need us again, Dandy, just pa.s.s the word," said Sloan. "I ain't never been nothing more than a cowboy. I like that I can tell people I been a Rough Rider."

"And we certainly have seen something to tell our grandchildren about," added Mickelson. "a.s.suming any of us lives long enough to have any."

"Got to make children before you worry about grandchildren," said Tipton. "Let's go into town and get started on that."

"Sounds good to me," said Sloan, spurring his horse into a canter. The others followed suit, leaving Roosevelt and Manitou to walk into town. He rode up to the boarding stable, dropped Manitou off, and walked the two blocks to the Grand, where he found Holliday and Masterson having dinner in the restaurant.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, approaching their table.

"Glad to see you made it," said Masterson. "How did you kill War Bonnet?"

"I didn't."

"I didn't think you could," said Holliday. "The real question is: Why didn't he kill you?"

Roosevelt described the encounter in some detail.

"d.a.m.n!" exclaimed Masterson when he'd finished. "I was so captivated that my steak got cold."

"Mine too," noted Holliday. "Fortunately, I never gave much of a d.a.m.n if they served it hot or cold." He stared at Roosevelt. "So he didn't chase after you. You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think running him for ten minutes or so takes all the mental energy or spiritual power or whatever you want to call it that they've got."

"I agree," said Roosevelt. "But now that they know I know, they'll be making changes."

"How can they, if that's their limit?" asked Holliday.

"That's the limit for four of them. What if twenty or thirty throw their psychic abilities into him?" replied Roosevelt. "He could be bigger, stronger, faster, and stick around an hour or more."

"Should have killed those medicine men when you could," said Holliday.

"We couldn't," answered Roosevelt. "He couldn't hurt the Rough Riders, but they couldn't get past him, and when he made a break for me, they rode back to protect me instead of charging into the hut."

"Can't blame them for that," offered Masterson.

"I owe them my life," agreed Roosevelt.

"What now?" asked Holliday.

"Now I talk to Tom and Ned, and let them pick my mind about what I saw, and see if they can come up with something-anything-that can kill him."

"And if not?"

"If not, he'll go back East," said Masterson. "He's got a future there. He could even be governor of New York someday. No sense staying out here until War Bonnet can find a way to kill him."

"I'm not going anywhere," declared Roosevelt adamantly.

"But-"

"Bat, I know it sound egomaniacal, but someday I'm going to be the president of the United States, and I don't plan to preside over a country that stops less than halfway across the continent."

"Egomaniacal is an understatement," replied Masterson.

"I'd vote for you," said Holliday. He took a drink. "Of course, they might have to lead me to the booth and read my ballot and steady my writing hand while my other held my bottle..."

Roosevelt laughed. "That's years off. First things first, and the first thing is to get rid of the one obstacle that's keeping us on one side of the river. Did you notice anything at all, Doc, anything that might be useful?"

"We've been over it, Theodore," said Holliday. "You've seen him yourself now. He walks, he talks, he sees, he hears, he can't be hurt, and he can lift a two-ton rock as long as he doesn't have to throw it at anybody besides you and Geronimo."

"There's a weakness somewhere," said Roosevelt firmly.

"What makes you so sure?" asked Masterson.

"Because if there weren't, they'd be planning to take the war east of the Mississippi."

"How do you know they aren't?"

"If they were, Geronimo would know, and if he knew, he'd have told me."

"He barely knows you, Theodore," said Masterson.

"I'm the one he sent for," insisted Roosevelt. "If he knew, he'd have told me."

"Well, you know him better than I do," said Masterson. "I just wouldn't put any faith in that old man."

"Makes sense for you not to," offered Holliday. "After all, he turned you into a bat. But Theodore's the one white man he trusts."

"Whatever you say," said Masterson, clearly becoming annoyed. He got to his feet and left a few coins on the table. "I'm off to read a bit and then get a full night's sleep. There's a rodeo tomorrow, and I thought I might as well make a little money while I'm out here, so I'm writing it up for the Epitaph."

"Wonderful name for a Tombstone newspaper," commented Roosevelt.

"Useful, anyway," said Holliday as Masterson headed off to his room.

"You say that as if you've been reading it lately."

"I have," said Holliday. "John, the editor, is a friend of mine from the O.K. Corral days. The Epitaph hunted up witnesses, and it was the best friend Wyatt and I had during the trial. Its editorials are one of the reasons that Johnny Behan's not wearing a badge anymore."

"And how have you been using it?" asked Roosevelt.

"You've had a lot on your mind, so I don't blame you for not thinking much about it, but War Bonnet broke John Wesley Hardin out of jail a few days ago on the condition that he come to Tombstone and kill me."

"There was some talk about Hardin among the Rough Riders," said Roosevelt, appropriating Masterson's plate and his cold, half-eaten steak. "How good is he with a gun?"

"He's alive," answered Holliday. "Given the number of gunfights he's been in, that pretty much speaks for itself."

"Have you ever seen him in a shootout?"

"I've never seen him, period."

"But he's definitely coming this way?" persisted Roosevelt.