did was list everything that was magical or supernatural about War Bonnet. He can't be hurt. He can't feel pain. He probably doesn't eat. He may not breathe. The trick,” continued Roosevelt, smiling triumphantly, “the step I couldn't take when I was thinking about it last night, was to find if he has any trait or talent that isn't magical or supernatural, and to attack it.” He paused, still grinning. “And since he can speak and hear and see, that's what we have to attack.”
“We can't shoot him in the eyes,” said Buntline. “The bullets will just bounce off. So we need another tactic.”
“Same with his hearing,” said Edison. “Unless you think Theodore can bite his ear off,” he added with a laugh.
“How long will you need to make whatever it is you're going to make for me to use against him?” asked Roosevelt.
“I'd like a week,” said Edison. “But we'll do it in two days if we have to.”
“So if I were you,” added Buntline, “I'd make myself mighty scarce for the next forty-eight hours.”
“He can find me anywhere I hide,” said Roosevelt. “I mean, hell, if a bloodhound could find me, it should be child's play for a creature of the medicine men.”
“I don't think we can produce what you need any sooner, Theodore,” said Buntline.
“That's all right,” said Roosevelt. “I've got an idea that ought to work.”
HOLLIDAY WAS HAVING A LUCRATIVE NIGHT at the Oriental, as Geronimo had promised. He was up four thousand dollars, and he'd won half of it on the preceding hand when he'd had nothing but a pair of deuces but bet his entire pile of chips and bluffed his four opponents into tossing in their hands rather than paying to see what he held.
He'd decided it was time to take a ten-minute break and celebrate with some imported Scotch. Not that he preferred it, but since it cost twice as much, it was what he drank when he was celebrating.
The usual crowd was there—all of Roosevelt's Rough Riders, plus Charlie Bassett, Loose Martinez, even Henry Wiggins, who rarely drank and never gambled. John Behan walked past the window, looked in, didn't like what he saw, and kept walking.
“Bartender!” said Holliday.
“Come on, Doc,” said the bartender. “You know perfectly well that my name is Tom.”
“True,” agreed Holliday. “But ‘Bartender’ sounds so much more dramatic. However, let's split the difference.” He cleared his throat. “Bartender Tom, drinks for the house.”
“Scotch?” asked the bartender.
“I'm merely generous, not philanthropic,” replied Holliday. “Make it whiskey.” He looked out the window into the street. “And if the gentleman I see approaching the Oriental actually enters, get him a glass of milk or sarsaparilla, whichever comes first.”
Roosevelt entered the saloon, waved to his men, and sat down at a table. “I'll have some tea, please.”
“You sure you don't want milk?” asked the bartender.
“No, thanks.”
“Or sarsaparilla.”
“Never tried it,” replied Roosevelt. “Is it any good?”
“Beats me,” said the bartender with a shrug.
“Might as well find out,” said Roosevelt. “Bring me a bottle.”
“There's saloons where you put your life in danger just ordering a bottle of that,” noted Holliday.
“Well, hopefully this isn't one of them,” answered Roosevelt. “Right now my life is in Tom and Ned's hands.”
“They think they'd found a way to kill War Bonnet?” asked Holliday, and suddenly all other talk ceased.
“It's possible,” said Roosevelt. “The problem is, it'll take them two days to make the weapon I need. I thought, just in case he shows up before I'm ready for him, I might prevail upon the brave men who just returned with me to perform the same service here that they did when he tried to attack me in Indian country.”
“You can count on me, Dandy,” said Sloan.
“And I,” added Mickelson.
Soon all six Rough Riders had pledged their support.
“I'm sorry I couldn't ride with you before, but I'll do whatever I have to—if you'll have me,” said Charlie Bassett.
“I appreciate that, Mr. Bassett—”
“Charlie.”
“Charlie,” corrected Roosevelt. “And from everything I've heard about you, you're a man whose help would be most welcome.”
“I've never fired a gun in my life,” said Wiggins, “but I'll lend all the moral support I can.”
“That will be more than sufficient, Henry,” said Roosevelt.
“What the hell,” said Martinez. “Count me in too.”
“This is precisely the reaction I'd hoped for,” said Roosevelt. “It's only for two days, and in all likelihood nothing will come of it. Once the weapon is completed, your job is done and mine begins.”
“Are you planning on facing this monster alone?” asked Bassett.
Roosevelt