The Bisbee Massacre Read Free Page A

occasionally stopping short so he wouldn’t be run into by someone rushing in or out of a store. He reached a small saloon just as a man staggered out from between the batwing doors.
    â€œExcuse me,” Clint said.
    â€œYeah?” The man stopping, blinked, stared at Clint blearily. He was no kid, probably in his forties, so Clint figured he’d know every saloon in town. “Whataya wan’?”
    â€œI’m looking for a saloon owned by Fred Dodge,” Clint said.
    â€œAcross the street,” the man said, pointing. “Only he don’t own it no more.”
    â€œHe doesn’t?”
    â€œHe left town after the election.”
    â€œDid he leave Arizona?”
    â€œNaw, he lives in Tombstone now,” the man said. “Fact is, he got hisself appointed a deputy sheriff by the new sheriff.”
    â€œAnd what’s his name?”
    â€œWard,” the man said, making a face. “Already can tell he ain’t worth a damn.”
    â€œOkay,” Clint said. “Thanks.”
    â€œI’m goin’ over there now,” the man said, “only I can’t walk so straight and I might get run down in the street. Wanna help me out?”
    â€œSure.”
    Clint walked the man across the street, holding him by the elbow, steering him that way. It was warm for December, but there were puddles in the street from recent rain. Clint not only kept the man from being run down, but from falling down face-first in some puddles. When they reached the saloon the man said, “Obliged,” and went in ahead of Clint. Clint looked up and saw the name “Lily’s” above the door.
    Clint walked in, found himself in a small but well-appointed saloon. They were running a few games, had two girls working the floor. He walked to the bar.
    â€œHelp ya?” the barman asked.
    â€œBeer, cold.”
    â€œComin’ up.”
    When he handed Clint the beer Clint said, “I hear Fred Dodge sold out.”
    â€œYep, right after last month’s election.”
    â€œYou the new owner?”
    â€œNaw, I just work here. New owner’s name is Lily Farmer.”
    â€œA woman owns the place?”
    â€œYep,” the bartender said, “and some woman.”
    â€œGood-looking?”
    â€œOh, yeah.”
    â€œInteresting.”
    Clint turned and leaned against the bar, working on his beer. He watched the two pretty girls work the floor, running it very competently between them. The dealers working the tables seemed to be legit.
    He finished his beer, turned to face the bar. The bartender was right there, good at his job.
    â€œ ’Nother?” the man asked.
    â€œLater,” Clint said. “I’ve got to get myself a hotel room.”
    â€œWell, you come back later on,” the man said. “Lily usually comes down around nine to see how we’re doin’.”
    â€œI’ll check back,” Clint promised. “Thanks.”

FIVE
    Clint got Eclipse situated at the livery stable, and himself set at the Copper Queen Hotel, then went and found a place to get a good steak. He knew the Cochise County Sheriff’s Office was in Tombstone, the county seat, so he didn’t bother looking for a lawman to check in with. He passed a few restaurants, but waited until he came to one that was doing a brisk business before going inside.
    When the steak came it was worth the wait, cooked to perfection and large enough to fill the plate. The vegetables and onions were draped over the steak, the beer was cold. He ate it at a leisurely pace, taking the time to study the people at the other tables. They were mostly townsfolk, and he heard snatches of conversation involving cattle and mining, and even some concerning politics. Only a few tables seemed to be taken up by families, or married couples.
    After he finished with his excellent supper he left and walked back over to Lily’s saloon. The bartender’s comments about the