The Doctor and the Rough Rider - By Mike Resnick Page 0,2

and he was firing it. Most of the gamblers laughed, and finally the two men left the saloon.

“You know who they were, don't you?” asked Vermillion.

“Sure,” answered Holliday. “But I wasn't going to give them the pleasure of saying I knew. The kid's Billy Allen, and the bigger kid is Johnny Taylor—and I'll lay fifty-to-one that neither of 'em ever saw either McLaury brother or got within two hundred miles of Tombstone.”

“Then what was that all about?” asked one of the poker players.

“Just a couple of kids looking to make a reputation,” said Holliday.

“Happens a lot,” added Vermillion. Suddenly he grinned. “Never the same kid twice, though. Doc keeps his fair share of undertakers in business.”

There was general laughter, and then Holliday announced that he was there to play poker, cards were dealt, and a moment later bets were made.

The game continued for another hour. Then Holliday was seized by another coughing fit, and it left him weak enough that he relinquished his seat and walked slowly to the bar, accompanied by Vermillion.

“I'd go outside for a bracing breath of cold, clear air,” he muttered, “but…”

“I know,” agreed Vermillion.

“Sometimes I wonder why the hell I ever left Arizona,” said Holliday.

Vermillion grinned. “It just might have had something to do with those arrest warrants that were issued against you and Wyatt.”

“They were sworn out by Wyatt's political enemies,” said Holliday. Then he grinned. “And all the men I beat at poker.”

“Then why don't you go back?”

“You know why,” replied Holliday. “This is where I've chosen to die of this damned consumption. They've got the best facility west of the Mississippi, and I didn't live in this airless town for two years so I could go back down the mountain now that it's time to die.”

“Is it time?” asked Vermillion.

“It's getting close. I'm coughing up more blood than usual, and even the whiskey doesn't kill the pain. And when you drink as much of that poison as I do…” He let the sentence trail off.

“I'm sorry, Doc. I thought you had a few more years.”

“I thought so too,” said Holliday. “Oh, well, I've only got a couple of regrets.”

“That you didn't marry Kate?”

Holliday chuckled. “Hardly. She's made my life a living hell for more than ten years. Think of what she could do if I married her.”

“She broke you out of jail, though,” noted Vermillion.

“Couldn't nag and badger me in jail,” said Holliday. “No, my greatest regret is that Wyatt and I aren't friends any longer.”

“I know you're not, but I don't know why.”

A self-deprecating smile crossed Holliday's face. “Blame it on my aristocratic upbringing. I said a few things about Josie I shouldn't have said.”

“His wife?”

“His Jewish wife,” answered Holliday, emphasizing the subject he should have avoided. “I loved her like a sister. I was just drunk, and drunks say mean, stupid things that can't be taken back.”

“And your other regret?” asked Vermillion quickly, trying to change the subject.

“That it's going to be the consumption that takes me, slowly and inch by inch, instead of a bullet.”

“I could backshoot you right now if you'd like,” said Vermillion with a smile.

“You're all heart, Jack.”

“That's not what Kate's chippies say,” laughed Vermillion.

“And they'll keep saying it as long as you keep paying them,” said Holliday. He straightened up. “Well, I can lean on the bar all night, or I can go home and cough myself to sleep. See you tomorrow, Jack.”

“I'll be here,” said Vermillion.

Holliday walked out into the sweltering heat of the night. His instinct said that he should be able to take a deep breath of cool mountain air, but his brain told him that there simply wasn't any cool air to be had within a hundred miles, even at this altitude.

He stood in front of the Monarch for a few moments, hoping for an errant breeze that never came, then turned and headed off toward Second Street, where he shared living quarters with Kate Elder at the back of her brothel. A small prairie dog suddenly blocked his path, which was more than passing strange since there were no prairie dogs at this altitude or in these mountains. Rather than walk around it or trying to scare it away, Holliday stopped.

“You know they lie in wait for you?” said the prairie dog in a familiar voice.

“I figured it was a strong possibility,” answered Holliday.

“You are not afraid,” observed the prairie dog.

“Why should I be? I go up against kids trying to make a reputation from time to time. But I'm