Raven sat alone in the bar for ten minutes after Lisa left, considering what she had told him and trying to dope out his plan of action.
Finally he got to his feet and walked to the door. He was about to go out onto the sidewalk when John Ringo entered the saloon.
“Hi, Ike,” he said. “I thought you’d be hiding back at the ranch.”
“Why hide now that you’re on our side?” shot back Raven.
Ringo chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder. “Damn! I knew I liked you!”
“So have you got your bearings yet?” asked Raven.
“I found my hotel, I’ve located the half-dozen best bars in town and paid my respects to five of them.”
“Just five?” asked Raven with a smile.
“I thought I’d give the Oriental a pass,” said Ringo. “Too damned many Earps.”
“Makes sense,” acknowledged Raven.
“Oh, I’ll kill ’em all sooner or later, but there ain’t no sense taking on four or five of ’em at once if I don’t have to.” He smiled. “Besides, I keep hoping I’ll run into Holliday first. I saw his woman leave here a few minutes ago, and half hoped I’d find him here.” He shook his head. “For a woman as famous as Big Nose Kate is, she sure ain’t much to look at.”
“She has hidden qualities.”
“Oh?” said Ringo. “Such as?”
Raven smiled. “Hidden.”
“On my way to town from your ranch, I ran into Curly Bill Brocius. He was heading out to have a powwow with your old man. Anything come of it?”
“He’ll be working with us,” answered Raven. “I think he hates Doc and the Earps almost as much as you do.”
“I don’t hate anyone,” replied Ringo. “I just like the biggest challenge, and they offer it.” He chuckled. “Hell, I’ve seen Holliday once in my life, and that’s once more than any of the Earps.”
Raven stared at him. “You mean it, don’t you?”
“Right.”
“And it’s just the challenge?” continued Raven. “It’s nothing personal?”
“When you’re the best, you have to keep proving it.” He snorted contemptuously. “Hell, most of Tombstone thinks Doc is the best. I got a reputation to defend.”
“Well, the Clantons will do everything we can to help you convince the townsfolk they were wrong.” And I think it had better be soon. I can’t remember the date of the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, but it can’t be too far off.
“Just steer clear when I go up against him.”
“Only a crazy man would stand between you two,” said Raven sincerely.
The problem is that history says you’re not at the O.K. Corral, and Doc lives another five or six years. And Wyatt Earp lives long enough to advise Tom Mix how to play a cowboy in the movies. Rofocale, Lisa—I hope you’re tuning in on my thoughts, because I sure as hell don’t see how this is going to work out.
“Well, I’m going to get a little something to drink,” said Ringo, heading toward the bar. “Care to join me? Your treat, of course.”
“No, I’ve had my share for the daylight. Maybe I’ll come by later—to this joint or another.”
Raven walked out the door, looked up and down the street, didn’t see Lisa in her Kate identity or as herself, and began wandering through the streets, trying to get the feel of the place. He came to a stop when he saw the Oriental a block away, checked the street signs and fixed its location in his memory, then turned back the way he had come.
He passed a butcher shop without even looking in the window—if there was one thing the Clanton ranch wasn’t lacking, it was meat—and before long came to where he’d hitched his horse. He noticed that the water trough next to the post had gone dry, so he walked his horse to a half-full one a few yards away, waited for him to take a drink, then mounted him and began riding back to the ranch.
Damn it! he thought. Is anybody there?
Yes, Eddie, came Rofocale’s thought. One of us is.
You know the situation. No matter how I try to alter history, Doc and the Earps all live through the gunfight and there’s no record of Ringo being involved in it.
That is true.
Then why the hell am I going through these efforts?
Because if you were truly Ike Clanton, that is precisely what you would do.
Okay, I know, it’s a test—but haven’t I passed it by at least trying to get Ringo to insert himself before the gunfight. And maybe getting Brocius and the Cowboys to nullify the Earps.
Your behavior thus far has been exemplary, replied Rofocale.
Then get me the hell out of here before everything goes wrong and Doc and the Earps kill the Clanton gang.
When the time comes, said Rofocale.
When what time comes? demanded Raven.
When you have completed your test.
I don’t understand.
I intuit that anything further I say will just confuse you.
I’m confused already, said Raven irritably.
Signing off, said Rofocale, and suddenly his presence was gone from inside Raven’s head.
“Great!” muttered Raven. “That was just phase one of this idiot test. I guess phase two is to die with some semblance of dignity, or maybe to ride hell-for-leather until I’m on the other side of the Mississippi.”
Don’t be foolish, Eddie, said Lisa’s voice.
You’ve been listening? Can you tell me what the hell is going on?
But there was no answer, and her presence, like Rofocale’s, had left his consciousness.
“All right,” he said. “I’m stuck here. Ringo’s on our side. So is Brocius. If we go to the O.K. Corral with both of them, and maybe half a dozen Cowboys, maybe we can win, or at least scare ’em off until they can even up the odds.” He paused, considering the situation. “And maybe I can get that sheriff—our sheriff—Johnny Behan to tell the Earps that if they precipitate a gunfight the surviving Earps are all going to jail.” He turned his horse around and headed back into town. “Maybe I’d better have a talk with this Behan before the Earps do.”
When he got back to town, he rode up and down a trio of streets until he came to a frame building with steel bars on all the windows, and a large Sherriff’s Office sign hanging down in the front. Raven dismounted, hitched his horse, pretended to fuss with the saddle for a moment until his heart stopped racing, and walked in the front door.
“Howdy, Ike!” enthused the man with the sheriff’s badge.
“Hi, Sheriff.”
“Screw the ‘Sheriff,’” said Behan. “You’re Ike, I’m Johnny.”
“Sorry, Johnny,” said Raven. “Been a hard day.”
“The rest of it ought to be a little easier,” said Behan. “I see Johnny Ringo’s in town.”
Raven held up his right hand and crossed his index and middle fingers. “Hopefully he’ll do our job for all of us.”
“That thought has crossed my mind,” said Behan with a chuckle.
“But,” continued Raven.
“But?”
“But if it comes to a fight, I assume you’ll back us up?”
“Not with a gun, that’s for damned sure,” said Behan. “But I’ll throw any Earp who survives it into jail.”
“And Doc?”
“That’s a little harder,” admitted Behan. “Still, that’s what I got deputies for.”
“Good. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
“You know I got no use for those scum.” Behan grimaced. “You know Virgil deputizes the whole damned family, so they think they’re responsible to no one except maybe the God of the Earps.” A malicious smile crossed his face. “Them what survives are gonna find out how wrong they are.”
“Just hold that thought,” said Raven.
Behan pulled a bottle out of a desk drawer. “Care for one?”
My God, is every resident of this town an alcoholic?
“No, thanks, Johnny. I’ve got to be getting back to the ranch. Dad was pretty used up when he got in. I want to make sure he’s okay.”
“Okay,” said Behan. “And keep an eye out for Wyatt or one of the other scum. He seems to think you’ve got his horse there.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“You don’t, do you?” asked Behan.
“Not to my knowledge,” lied Raven, which he decided would be his position and his excuse if anyone spotted the horse.
“Well, give Billy and Phin my best.”
“Will do,” said Raven, walking to the door, opening it, and going back into the street, where he unhitched his horse, mounted it, and hoped he could make it home without encountering another offer of a drink.