The Best Rootin' Tootin' Shootin' Gunslinger in the Whole Damned Galaxy Read Free

away?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Well?” persisted the hunchback.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “About twice that many,” said Flint.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “That’s wonderful!” exclaimed Tojo.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “We’ve come a long way in five years,” beamed Mr. Ahasuerus. “I can remember when we could barely afford fuel for the ship, to say nothing of not being able to meet our payroll."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Nothing up here to spend it on anyway,” muttered Flint, finishing his beer and pitching the can into a darkened corner of the booth.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “That’s not the point,” said the blue man. “We’ve turned a fly-by-night operation into a solid money-maker. It is not something I would have anticipated, based on our first meeting."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I still remember the first time I saw you,” said Tojo. “I was never more frightened in my life."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I can safely say that the feeling was mutual,” replied Mr. Ahasuerus, thinking back to a frigid October morning in Vermont.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “And now here I am,” continued the hunchback, “talking and telling jokes to a bunch of aliens. Me —ugly, misshapen, fumble-mouthed Tojo, the carny barker! It still seems like a dream!"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Let’s not forget who are the aliens on this world and who are the natives," said Flint. He shook his head. “Lord, but they’re homely! I wonder if they molt?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “They probably wonder if you shed your skin,” said Mr. Ahasuerus.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Probably,” agreed Flint with a sigh. “I don’t suppose it makes a hell of a lot of difference what they do, just so long as they spend their money."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “They were lined up before sunset, just to get into the specialty show,” said the hunchback.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I know,” said Flint. “It seems that our friend Wyatt Earp is getting himself a reputation."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “It must be wonderful to be known and loved on hundreds of different worlds,” said Tojo wistfully.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I’ll settle for just getting rich off him,” responded Flint, lighting up another cigarette.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Be truthful, Mr. Flint,” said the blue man. “Wouldn’t you like the admiration?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Not if I had to face the Killing Machine twice a day to get it,” said Flint devoutly.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Still,” said Tojo, turning his homely face toward the flap through which the Dancer had disappeared, “he must be a very satisfied man. Just think of it: ten years ago he was doing God knows what in Texas, and five years ago we were all working for peanuts back in New England, and now he’s the most famous entertainer who ever lived."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  As they spoke about him, the handsome blond marksman walked down the Midway toward the carny ship, signing an occasional autograph. He entered the airlock, tipped his hat to two of the girls who were sitting in the mess hall, and walked to an elevator. He emerged on the fifth level, walked down the curved corridor until he came to his door, pressed the combination code on his computer lock, and entered the room. He sat down on a hard wooden chair, stared blankly at the posters of Jesse James and Doc Holliday and John Wesley Hardin that hung on his walls, and sighed deeply.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  And then the best rootin’ tootin’ shootin’ gunslinger in the whole damned galaxy, the most famous entertainer who ever lived, walked over to his bed and lay down on it.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  And cried.
    Â 

 
    Chapter 2
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    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Pick a card—any