Dearly balov-ed Muleskinners an' assorted, vile varmints,

(This aint the big ol’ yarn I promised yew last time but I reckon this news’ll dew fer the time bein’. Hold yer hosses on the big one, okay?)

Pertainin’ tew one Miss Katherine Elder, known ta most as “Big Nose Kate", said ta be from Tombstone, Arizona Territory: well, that not-sa-dainty varmint a the female persuasion done rides inta camp t’other day in a all-fired hurry and ajumps off her mount. An, we sez alookin’ at one another, "WHAT THE HAIL...?"

We has aset up the encampment with a di-verse bunch a other groups at the foot a them San Ber’dino Mountains at the end a harvest time, (Is this the beginnin’ a November? I b’lieve it is). Yep, we is ‘tween bank jobs an’ alookin’ ta cool our heels fer a spell sos we won’t git nabbed fer shit we has recently done.

Reason we picked the here partic’lar spot is ‘cause it's the regular “Harvest Fair” them homesteader groups aputs on ever year ‘bout this time. Jus’ who the hail would think ta look fer the likes a us at the likes a this? An’, we is alayin’ low awaitin’ fer all them rich farmers ta swap them wagonloads a crops an’ livestock fer gold, tools an’, ya know, bartered goods a all sorts.

‘Course, what we tells ol’ Ken What’s-‘is-name, the ramrod a this here affair, is that we is jus’ ranchhands alookin’ ta stock up on food an’ provisions fer the winter an’ bless his heart, he done buys us all a beer jus’ fer bein’ newcomers thar. ‘Magine that.Now like I’m asayin’, farmer-types aint never ta ma rec’leckshun s’picious er ‘spectin’ ta git ambushed by a bunch a dang cowboys much less outlaws, the likes a us ‘cause thar aint no money in it, yooshly. ‘Course what thems aint awar of is that we’s in the “volume bizness” an’ jus’ luvs “atalkin’” tew a number a different sort a folks, heh, heh.

Our fellow “biznessmens” right down the way, Desert Guns, is pertendin’ tew but, hail, them boys an’ girls ahas theyselfs a whole dang “tent city” agoin’ on down thar with flags an’ banners ablowin’ an’ lanterns aplenty aburnin’ after sundown each night. Wy, thems must be afeelin’ exter-righteous durin’ these days…er amissin’ the point altogether. Turns out thems is jus' a restin’ an’ aint aplannin’ nuthin’ er arunnin’ away from nuthin’.

Anyhow, here we is amindin’ our own bizness alookin’ like a bunch a dirty, down-on-their-luck, out-a-work, dang cowboys when in SHE rides acrowin’ an’ acacklin’ an’ disturbin’ the peace abringin’ a whole raft a undue attintion tew our li’l camp. Now WHY our li’l camp? Tho, ‘acourse, we aint never gonna turn away no floozy an’ we’s mighty glad ta see ‘er, WORK AN' WIMMENS JUS' DON'T MIX.

Well, our mens is afrozen in thems’s tracks as well as yores trooly an’ our wimmens is aghast at the sight of a loud-as-hail whore aridin’ in without no man baside a her. Hail, down in Mexico that would be grounds fer a hosswhippin’ at the least. More likely even deaf from what I’m told, ‘cause sum ‘ombray sumwhar would shurly be dishohored. Wimmens, I don’t care what kind, jus’ don’t’ dew that sort a thing.

Wellsir, as I sez, in she comes ahaidin’ fer the Captain’s main tent almost aknockin’ sum a our whores off a thems’s feets. An’ she’s ayellin’, “I haint had a real man in weeks but it shore looks like ma luck’s ‘bout ta change. An’, since most a y’all’s on yer feets anyway, let’s have ya line up an’ lemme have a look at ya.”

Well, she don’t wait fer that li’l order ta be carried out. Nosir, she draws a bead on Man-Who-Fears-His-Own-Hoss, the biggest member we gots next ta Muleskinner Jim. Then, she declares, “Hey big boy, yew’ll dew jus’ fine. Let’s me an’ yew mozy yonder an’ see ifn we kin find usselves sum pink cheeks, huh?.” Everone laffs an’ laffs at the double meanin’ but that lofty lad jus’ sits thar with a red as hail face, agrinnin’ an’ not sayin’ nuthin’. Nope, ner makin’ no move ta git his huge ol’ self out a the char. An’ ALL eyes is on hims.

“Wellsir,” she sez with a big grin, “I sees yew gots them pink cheeks now. Ladies, has yew ever seen a man what’s as “quick” as this strappin’ feller? Wy, I dew b’lieve he holds the record. Woops, he done it to me agin. Y’all see that?” With that, everone aroars with laughter an’ his face gits even redder. Kate whirls aroun’ alookin’ fer her next choice agivin’ no mind what-so-ever ta the snub.

Me, I’m asettin’ along side ‘im. I sez in a hoarse whisper, “Why didn’ ya take ‘er up on ‘er offer? Seems she likes yew the best.” “I knows this woman,” he replies, his eyes straight ahaid an’ distant. “I don’t fool with no married wimmens even if they’s only bein’ married fer a week. Her ol’ man aint one ta tangle with, neither. He’ll be like yer dang shadow till he finally kills ya, I reckon. I seen ‘im dew in a few fer a whole lot less than that.”

Anyhow, with that, she shores up them huge bosoms with her hands, aflounces them beeyootiful, silk skirts an’ asits her ample self down afixin’ ta hold court. (Actchooly, the only thing what AINT big ‘bout Big Nose Kate IS her nose. Wy, I was told by White Hoss that that partic’lar name was agiven tew ‘er on account a it abein'inta everbody’s bizness but her own.)

Now, I caint rightly say ifn she's awatchin’ whar she's asittin’ herself when she pulls up that char. Reason I say that is ‘cause I'm asittin’ that char when she plops her big “back forty” down. Yep, yew guessed it, nearly smushes me ta deaf. An’, I caint recall which is worse: not bein’ able ta breathe ER sufferin’ the hyoomiliation a me all but disappearin’ from sight ‘neath all that girth an’ fluff. All them Muleskinners is alaffin’ an’ reeal intertained ta see ma near-demise a ass-fixiation.

Now, agagged with a mouf full a cloth an’ agittin’ more an’ more disprit with ever secund a ma pocket watch atickin’ away, I caint help but wunder, “Is it that she aint awar I’m even here er is it ma crossdraw Colt Bisley what’s takin’ ‘er?”

Wellsir, after much tew long a spell an’ me asputterin’ out ma last rites tew maself, she ahoists herself tew her feets an’ sez, “Wy, I dew declare. Was that yew I was asittin’ on, li’l man? Either I caint see menfolk unner six feet tall er yew is the quickest opportunist I ever did see.” An’, with that, all them boys is arollin’ on the groun’ an’ our wimmens is blushin’ aplenty.

A well, finally aketchin’ ma breaf, I jus’ atips the crinkly remains a what used ta be a bran’ new hat an’ sez, "Don’t ya fret none ‘bout me ma’am. Um…, that’s a mighty fine bustle yew gots.” “Bustle? BUSTLE? THAT AINT NO BUSTLE! That’s jus’ ma big o’l, white, doughy ass, darlin’,” she yells an’ let’s out a huge hosslaff ‘long with everbody else. Wy, our wimmens's moufs adrops wide open with the words aspillin’ from THEM full, red, painted lips.

“Hay, I reconnize yew,” pipes up Purgatory. “Yew’s from Tombstone, aintcha?” “Wyyy, bless ma heart, darlin’, dew yew KNOW me?” she asks. “Well, I doesn’t KNOW ya ‘cause yew was tew busy but we’s the Mojave Muleskinners an’ we seen ya down in Tombstone when we was down thar back in September. ‘Member? Yew was aswappin’ stories with our Captain thar in the Crystal Palace one night an’ we was all ahavin’ a good time.”

“Wy, yes, I dew b’lieve I remember y’all. Fer all that dirt an’ grime, I must say yew boys was a refreshing change from the usual fare a lame newcomers to that stoopid, dang, dusty minin’ town. Y’all shore knows how ta treat a lady. Y’all was adroppin’ silver like yew owned it ALL.

“But Kate, how come yew run out a thar jus’ ‘cause sum fool ‘nounced that the Earps an’ them was back in town?” asks Lucky. “What the hail was that about? Even WE aint used ta that kind a ill-mannered shit.”

“Oh hail,” she sez, I dew deeply apologize ta yew sir, an’ ta all a ya. I don’t know what got inta me. But lately, I’m agittin’ sick an’ tard a them sissified, phony Earp sons-a-bitches, anyhow…, awalkin’ the fense like they does, actin’ all righteous an’ such. ‘Nuff ta make ya puke…with all them rules an’ regulations, the damm hippacrits. BULLIES! Dang bullies, I say. Jus’ ‘cause Wyatt an’ Masterson was pugilists an’ did sum prize-fightin’ when they was young don’t mean they has ta clunk all them wranglers an’ ruffians over the haid with gunbutts an’ then beat ‘em inta the floor when they protests. Hail, that’s my livelyhood they’s amessin’ with, them smug, inconsiderit sons-a-bitches.”

“Anyhow,” she goes on, “that’s why I jumped on ma hoss an’ got the hail away. I had tew. Wy, any minute now, I’m agonna go back an’ take a gun barrel ta somebody. Best I’m here, right now, than thar.”

“Fancy ameetin’ yew boys outchere but I kin say this: not one a yew has even offered me a drink. Whar’s YER manners an’ WHAR’S YER LIKKER?” She bellows. Welll, with that, three er so Muleskinners dang near tears thems’s bootlegs apullin’ out thems’s flasks. But Miss Nellie Bell ajumps tew her feets an’ sez, “Sit yerself down, Honey, we gots sump’um better…with sugar an’ fresh cream what aputs them idiots’s whiskey ta shame. Goes down like water but watch yerself, …it’s real potent.”

“Well, alright…I’m abliged, but with all these handsum men around, I may have ta take matters inta ma own hands. Yew ladies don’t mind, dew yew?” “Nope,” says Miss Abigale, asteppin’ out an’ aspeakin’ fer the rest. “All a us could use a night off. Help yerself.” The other wimmens smiles an’ anods thems’s approval.

“Whar’s yer camp, Miss?” asks German Pete, alookin’ not quite at ease with the sitiation. “…How far up the trail?” “Oh hail,” she replies, “I’d say ‘bout tin miles er so West a here in the Colton settlement. Virgil gots friends thar aputtin’ us up fer the week…Hmmm, that drink’s right goood. I’ll have another one a them concockshuns, Sweety, ifn ya please.”

Pete goes on, “Well, maybe one a us ought a escort ya back ta yer camp bafore it gits tew dark. The sun’s agittin’ low now.” “HAIL NO YEW AINT! Thanks fer offerin’ but all the fun’s right chere. Aint nuthin’ ta dew up thar. ‘Sides thar’s sum serious “hunger” down here, right boys? I kin s-smell it.” The men alets out a roar of approval an’ she gits this big smile agoin’ agin. Pete’ s only asmilin’ sum.

“Oh shit,” sez Smokey Jack tew hisself, “Lawdogs an’ Ladies here? Now?”

‘Bout that time, the Captain an’ them other boys what haint gathered ‘round ba now asaunters up ta see what all the commotion’s about. “Wy, Captain Ball, I remembers yew,” she sez with a huge grin an’ athrowin’ a hefty arm ‘round his shoulders aknockin’ him off balance sum. “Yew an’ me was jus’ agittin’ ta know one another a few months back but now, we kin make up fer lost time.”

“Hi Kate. Yer alookin’ mighty good. What brings ya up this-a-way?” he asks. “Wellsir, me an’ the boys an’ their wimmens is atravelin’ an’ atakin’ a holiday with some folks in Colton yonder up the road. But Doc, he’s out a sorts agin abein’ sick an’ all. An’, as yooshul, he’s short-tempered as hail an’ more interested in partin’ strangers an’ their money than ME. ‘Magine that.”

“Yeah,” sez Cap, “we nearly had a run-in with them boys in Tombstone the night we met yew down thar. When ya disappeared, ma men here was plum disappointed an’ nearly tore that high-class saloon ta pieces abrawlin’ an’ abreakin’ shit. Good thing most a us was able ta take our pleasure elsewhar an’ gots out the back ba the time yer boys showed up. An’, we shore don’t need no face-ta-face with them lawdogs er Doc Holiday whilst we’s still here. No tellin’ how many Doc, hisself, will kill when on one a his binges at any given time. Gots hisself a deafwish, I reckon, but he’s been plum lucky up ta now, wouldn’ ya say?”

“Hail yes he has,” she sez. “Sez he aims ta die with his boots on an’ don’t ever miss a chance ta try… Don’t know what the hail I sees in him,” she mutters.

“Sides him,” sez the Captain, thar’s a sayin’ afloatin’ aroun’ that Wyatt caint be killed. ‘Course that’s probly ‘cause he haint never been shot, right? Not even creased, I’m told. But that don’t mean he caint. Hail, we don’t need ta find out an’ shurly don’t need no grief to come down on us ‘cause thems is missin’ one of thems’s wimmens, ‘specially Doc’s. Ya sees what I’m a drivin’ at?”

“Oh hail Captain, Doc knows I aint his ONLY, jus’ when he needs me. 'Sides, he’s agoin’ ta be gamblin’ fer hours er days even an’ Wyatt aint even here. Ya caint NEVER take ALL the law out a that town, ya know? ‘Sides, he gots all them “interests” a his an’ the boys ta look after. They knows I kin take care of maself. No, they aint gonna come alookin’ fer me. The two Earp boys is aplayin’ cards tew. Knowin’ them, none a thems’ll be through amakin’ money till at least, mornin’ sumtime. Ya needn’t fret about it none. Really.”

“Well,” sez Captain Ball, “our campfire is alweez welcome to a handsum woman like yerself. I reckon Rufus T’s wagon is still covered an’ I’m shur he’d welcome you ta spind the night in it. Jus’ don’t show yerself out in the open much, unnerstood?” “HURRAH!” yells the boys all at once an’ they’s alaughin’ an’ aslappin’ each other on the backs.

“Men, now don’t y’all gather ‘round this here fire like ants ta honey. Let’s not ask fer trouble. Yew git yer asses up the line like yew’s s’posed ta, asidlin’ up ta them rich farmers an’ such, amakin’ friends an’ abuyin’ ‘em drinks fer infermation. 'Infermented' bafore 'bedded', okay?”

“Then, amozy back no more than one at a time sos we don’t paint no huge ol’ pitcher ta everone attendin’ the Fair a the great di-version we gots agoin’ on down here, savvy? Y’all work out the details ‘mongst yerselfs. Me, a few a yew an’ the ladies’ll hole up here ta keep an’ eye out fer any ‘inter’sted parties’ what jus’ might come acallin’. Yew ladies what’s agreed ta stay up, yew cater ta Miss Kate an’ keep yer ears perked fer the sound a hosses er wagons. That clear? Y’alls dismissed.”

“Wy, thank yew Captain, fer yer gracious hospitality,” sez Kate with a low curtsey. “May I have the pleasure a yer company? Aint gonna cost YEW.”

(Now what’s int’restin’ ta me is that not one a us mangy, muleskinnin’ sons-a-bitches that I knows of gots a soo tew his name till we leaves this her weekend Harvest Fair an’ we’s relieved all these farm folks a thems’s polks. But I’d shore hate ta see any a our kind git the shit beat out a them by no woman. Shameful. Don’t think our repitation could survive the dameege. Aint realy worried none, tho, ‘cause most a them boys gots jus’ as good a way with words as they has with other things, heh, heh. Worthy a specyoolatin’ over, tho.)

Wellsir, most a our wimmens afinishes the supper chores an’ abeds down fer sum overdue shut-eye. Only Nellie Bell, Tucson Pearl, Lousiana Liz an’ Miss Abigale has ta stay up. An’ thems asits ‘emselves tew ta each side a Rufus’s wagon abundled up in heavy coats an’ hoss blankets alookin’ out inta the blackness a night surroundin’ the yard. That’s ‘cause ALL us boys, it turns out ‘cept Mel an’ the Captain, is up at the makeshift saloon aginst orders adrinkin’ free beer what ol’ Ken, the host, is apourin’, bless his soul.

Misfire Mel knows this an’ has cut hisself a deal with us what sez that whenever one a us mozies back ta the wagon, that one has ta bring a exter cup a beer each fer him. His job is ta sit ba the fire an’ keep aplayin’ tunes out a that squeezebox-a-his like he does reg’lar, but all night…which is dandy by him.

Now Captain Ball asaunters up ta the fire sooner, I’m told, as opposed ta later and joins ol’ Mel on the Joo’s harp an’ anips on beer an’ whiskey ‘tween tunes an’ mens. Mostly, them others returns ta drinkin’ the free beer up the line ‘cause all them barrels has ta be empty ba Sundie night ta lighten the load home accordin’ ta good ol’ Ken (What-the-hail-is-his-name?).

White Hoss is the only ‘ception an’ thar he is ba the fire tew, but not bafore that idiot done pulls one a his typical “White Hoss stunts”. Yep, whilst afinishin’ up with Kate, he fergits ta put his longhandles back on ‘acause he’s a thirsty man an’ in a all-fired hurry ta git his soggy ass back ta the saloon an’ ta dew sum SERIOUS drinkin’ an’ braggin’. But…, y’all aint gonna b’lieve this, heh, heh. He buttons “hisself” intew his britches ‘cause a not payin’ attintion an’ lets out this blood-curdlin’ yell what wakes up the whole camp, purt near givin’ Cap an’ Mel a dang heart attack.

But what’s worse is Kate’s shrill laffter what’s acoursin’ thru the night ar in ever di-rection WHAT AINT STOPPIN’ …an’ don’t look ta stop any time soon. Wy, Cap an’ Mel is all eyeballs as they’s jus’ astarin’ at each other awatchin’ the blood adrain from the face a each while frozen in fear (tho they aint ones ta admit tew it).

When her cacklin’ don’t stop an’ she tells the other ladies, now aroarin’ tew, all them females, BUT Kate, alla sudden remembers what’s wrong with that an’ atries ta shush ‘er up. Quick as lightnin’, the boys ashakes free the spell an’ each adashes the op’sit way ‘round the firepit towards the wagon…right intew each other aknockin’ ‘emselfs out cold as codfish.

Mortyfied an’ up on thems’s feets, Nellie an’ Pearl, ba pure instinct, afetches water an’ apours it on the boys. An’ thems comes tew jus’ in time ta see all the hosses in camp aspookin’ an’ abreakin’ free a the makeshift corral an’ ahigh-tailin’ it down the road. Ba this time, all the wimmens is up an’ arunnin’ here an’ thar acryin’ an atearin’ their har out fer not knowin’ what the hail is ahappenin’ er what ta dew.

But that aint all, heh, heh. Nosir. The lead hoss an’ the next one out the gate done barely sidesteps the Captain’s tent atakin a whole raft a tent ropes an’ pegs with ‘em an’, yew guessed it, astampedes off with the others sumhow atakin’ Cap’s tent with ‘em an’ then the secund an’ then the third an’ then the rest, agoin’ down one-ba-one like dominoes all aleavin’ camp like spirits in the wind…afollered ba clatterin’ pots an’ pans, furniture an’ I don’t know what all. Mercy.

White Hoss aleaps out a the wagon but jus’ astands thar surveyin’ the scene, abitin’ his hand, not b’lievin’ the “shitstorm” he done jus’ caused. “DANG. This aint really ahappenin’.” He mutters tew hisself. “Maybe I needs ta quit the group…like NOW!”

“Course me an’ the boys is up at the bar ju-u-sss’ ree-laxin’, asmilin’ an asayin’ po-lightly, “Wy yes, I dew b’lieve I will have anuther beer thank yew very much.”

An’ when it’s finally fixed in the Captain’s slushy ol’ mind the magnitood a what jus’ happened an’ the cause of it, wy, he picks up the closest ax handle an’ starts achasin’ Hoss ‘round the yard ahurlin’ insults at ‘im what would turn a sailor’s ears blue.

Finally, like a rabbit corndered by a coyote an’ blubberin’ aplenty, Hoss with his hands out is aprayin’, abeggin’ an’ acursin’, aprayin’, abeggin’ an’ acursin’ as our leader comes slowly in fer the kill alookin’ more like Captain Ahab than Captain Ball. But, as he’s afixin’ ta swing that piece a oak, he hears noise, LOTS a noise. He whirls aroun’ jus’ in time ta see five hundert er so pairs a wide eyes an’ open moufs balongin’ ta people most a who’s in perjamas an’ ‘bout ta mass-witness the murder a one simple, sorry-assed son-of-a-bitch.

Even we is awatchin’ all this ba now not b’lievin’ what we’s aseein’. Cap drops the ax handle, faces the di-rection a most a thems torches an’ folks an’ grins like he never done bafore. Then, he puts his arm ‘round a cowerin’, snivelin’ , skeered out a his skin White Hoss an’ sez with honey on them words, “I was jus’ kiddin’. Me an’ Hoss is pals. Seeeeee? He sez ta Hoss thru a clenched smile, “I won’t kill ya now ifn yew rides out a here as fast as yer skinny ass kin an’ fetches Judge Jerry back here ta defind me. Pull his ass off the ‘bench’ ifn ya has ta, SAVVY?” Hoss’s relieved look aturns ta one a fear agin an’ the worried-as-hail crowd a folks let’s out with a big “Ohhhhhh!”

Hoss finally gits hold a hisself an’ yells ta the crowd with his hand in the ar, “Y’all go on home now. It’s over. We’s friends. Nuthin’ more ta see. Git sum sleep…” Cap an’ Hoss awalks off asmilin’ an’ arm-in-arm ahopin’ thar warn’t no law thar tew make no arrest. Thar wadn’ …an’ needless fer me ta say, no Earps. Once in the shadows as the last a the peoples vanishes, Cap hauls off an’ knocks Hoss ass-over-teakettle, grabs a blanket from the clutches of a still-dazed Tucson Pearl, drops baside the fire an’ falls intew a deep-as-hail sleep. Hoss does the same, Mel’s already out an’ “Kate’s wagon” is silent an’ dark.

Ba sunup, Hoss is long gone, the dew-soaked wimmens is all asleepin’ in best they kin but the boys aint. Captain Ball an’ a whole raft a hungover, down-in-the-mouf Mojave Muleskinners is asettin’ ‘round the cookin’ fire not asayin’ nuthin’…fer the longest time. Now an’ agin one er t’other alooks up ta survey the dameege ta the camp all aroun’ ‘em an’ then down agin back ta the fire.

German Pete finally breaks the silence. “This is Cahleefornia; maybe da woman done brung wid ‘er a curse from Ahreezona…an Injun curse, maybe.” (More silence…) Finally, the Captain speaks, his eyes glazed over. “Naaa..., wadn’ her fault. Hoss, that idiot. She was jus’ adoin’ her job an’ us a service…like a travelin’ tinker…er ferrier er itinerant preacher fer sum. That coffee ready, yet?”

(More silence…) Then Smokey mumbles, “What now, Cap?” (Silence…) “What now?” Cap finally replies. “What now?’” an’ Captain Ball breaks into laffter what ketches on with the rest a us an’ we is soon all aroarin’ at the grievous, yet funny-as-hail evints what’s ataken place over the last few hours. “Nope,” he sez, “we aint yer reg’lar idiots…”

“The tew mules is back. Yew an’ Lucky git after them hosses… Rest a yew go find the tents an’ shit strung out over the territory. Pete, yew an’ me needs ta take invintory an’ the wimmens kin start puttin’ stuff away. Gonna take us all day ta put camp back tagether, I reckon. Let’s git goin.”

“What about da woman?” nags Pete. (Everone stops in thems’s tracks.) “Oh hail, I dunno. What’re we gonna dew, ask her ta leave like superstishus fools? Are we not MEN?” “…Well, What about da Earps an’ Holiday?” asks Pete. “What about ‘em?” snaps the Captain. “They wadn’ tew concerned ‘bout her last night.” “Yeah but, if Holiday was ta come alookin’ fer her durin’ the wee hours an’ finds ‘er with one a us, he’ll knife ‘em bofe an’ then asneak down the line aslittin’ ALL our throats. He’s a hideous monster ‘cordin’ ta the rumors,” adds Man-Who-Fears-His-Own-Hoss in a agitatid tone an ’amakin’ the gesture with his finger an’ a noise like severed flesh. The boys, they’s all afeelin’ thems’s throats. Thars silence agin as everone’s alookin’ at each other soberly… (ifn that was ever possible).

Then the Captain speaks. “Even Holiday aint that crazy er foolish. We tough-as-nails ol’ Muleskinners aint agonna give no mind tew no sick, skinny, li’l ‘lunger’ of a dintist, is we? Wy, that repitation-a-his has agots blown awayyyy out a perportion… Lookee here boys, she’s jus’ a dang whore, not the crown jewels a the realm. …An’ she’s an independent cuss. How many a yew was able ta pay her a visit last night?” (‘Bout four hands goes up.) Alright then, ifn we ‘llows her ta stay, she kin help an’ intertain the wimmens agivin’ ‘em anuther break as well THIS evenin’. Y’all okay with that?” All a us astarts ta grin agin.

“Annnn’, aknowin’ poker like I does, them boys is still at it er asleepin’ off a drunk but I doubt that’s ahappenin’ till sum time tomorra mornin’. ‘Spesh’ly since it’s high-stakes games them boys plays. An’ I doubt they know she’s even missin. Sos, unless anyone thinks differ’nt, same plan as last night. Now git movin’.”

Well now, everone in camp is ahummin’ an’ aputtin’ things up the way they was an’ Miss Kate is abuzzin’ about abein’ helpful whar she kin an’ intertainin’ everone with her big ol’ smile an’ brash, outrageous banter. Cap is “uptown” a ways asufferin’ thru all them strange looks a farm folks an’ thems’s proper wives an’ afieldin’ questions ‘bout ‘zactly what the hail went on down thar last night an’ lyin’ aplenty he is, I might add.

Me an’ Rufus is thar with ‘im awatchin’ him delight crowds a folks with silly truths an’ gross ‘zagerations sos nobody’d think ta summon the law. ‘Tempted murder IS ‘tempted murder an’ a hangin’ offense in these parts, ya know, an’ I had the feelin’ that folks was on the lookout ta make shur White Hoss was still in camp an’ vertical.

Wellsir, it’s nightfall now an’ the same shit is at hand as last night an’ everone is at thems’s posts adoin’ thems’s jobs. But we’s on edge sum, even with all that beer aflowin’ freely like it is. Now, it’s becomin’ increasin’ly clear ta all a us asettin’ in thar that no farmer is gonna end up alosin’ his earnin’s at the hands a no Muleskinners, this weekend. We’s jus’ tew well known after all the shit what’s been happenin’. Ifn we couldn’ take it all at cards, it jus wadn’ gonna be thar fer the takin’. It was all we could dew ta hoodwink them yocals with cheap parlor tricks jus’ ta have a modest stake ta sit down with at them poker tables. Like I b’lieve I said, “work an’ wimmens don’t mix”.

Cap an’ Mel is down at the fire bofe with a good “haid a steam” agoin’, Mel apushin’ on that box an’ Cap adancin’ aroun’ the fire Injun-style with sum doe-see-doein’ a thrown in an’ aplayin’ his Joo’s harp. Wy, bofe them fools is acroonin’ at the crescent moon sump’um turrible an’ the wimmens is regist’rin’ thems’s complaints an’ athrowin’ shit. A well, hours passes an’ Cap is still anippin’ away at the jug an’ Mel, ’acourse aswappin’ beers fer empty tin cups. An’ them tew is alaughin’ an atellin stories ‘tween men-visits ta the wagon. The wimmens is adozin’ off in thems’s chairs.

Well, Liz an’ Abigale is on thems’s break now awarmin’ theyselves ba the fire an’ awatchin’ the “watchers” git sloppier an’ sloppier. The wimmens is amutterin’ tew ‘emselves ‘bout the possibility of a shift change fer the boys. An’ they has loaded forty-fives in thems’s hands unner them blankets since they know thar aint no next shift acomin’ an’ in case thems has ta rise ta the ‘casion.

By my watch, it’s ‘bout ‘leven o’clock now an’ the fire is startin’ ta git low an’ with all the calamity of evints the day bafore, nobody’d thot ta barter fer er buy more wood. Ba now, the wind has a definite chill tew it an’ it acalls up eerie feelin’s in the wimmens as it blows on the fire castin’ huge leapin’ shadows on the trees ‘round the yard ever time thar is a flare-up. Otherwise, thar’s jus’ the stark ol’ blackness.

The boys is abent over now still agabbin’ but in a near stupor. Mel’s gut with each breaf is apushin’ the squeezebox in an’ out addin’ a strange, musical sound tew a already strange scene out thar. The wimmens knows that everone is in bed ba now ‘cept fer the boys in the saloon an’ bofe is gittin’ a good case a the creeps. “Silly us,” thems would say ta theyselfs an’ would bofe laff a li’l. “Wy, this aint like us, Muleskinners what we is. Thar aint nuthin’ ta be afraid of…” But, they bofe, ba intuition I s’pose, ahas the feelin’ them’s is abein’ watched. Ya know, like when yew is abein’ stalked by a puma er a grizzly an’ yew jus’ KNOWS yew’s abein’ observed from a distance.

Bofe ashiverin’ now, Miss Abigale finally sez ta Liz, “Would yew ’scuse me a moment, darlin’? I think I know whar I kin find the one log what’s left.” Liz nods but barely overrides the thot a grabbin’ her an’ sayin’, “I’m agoin’ with ya.” Now she’s reeal skeered.

(Now, this strangeness aint natch’ral fer us ‘cause I caint begin ta tell ya how many times we has pitched camp an’ even with critters aprowlin’ at night, none a us is yooshly jumpy. Not like we is tonight, leastwise. “Spesh’ly since thar’s sa many a us what’s jus’ the normal number what shows up, gin’rally. That, an’ the fact of a whole, small townsworth a farmfolk an’ the encampments all jammed up tagether with lanterns aburnin’ an’ roarin’ fires agoin’ everwhar. Maybe it’s this Earp bizness what gots us sa skiddish, I’m athinkin’. Shore hope that’s all it is…Mens ya kin deal with. It’s other things in the dark I aint sa shur of…like a evil dang presence. Aw shit, that’s all bullshit. What is I athinkin’?)

(…But gittin’ back ta the Earps, thems aint even aroun’ . An’ ifn thems was ta make a showin’, seems it would a been durin’ the daylight sumtime whar thems kin see ta size up a sitiation. How dang silly it is ta show up after dark aknowin’ that the darkness kin hide a ton a guns apointin’ atcha. Spesh’ly with a whole raft a nervous, probly trigger-happy people what’s awake an’ a watchin’. Silly… Wait a minute. The boys is all up at the bar!It’s jus’ me what’s walkin’ down athinkin’ these thots.)

Well, bye an’ bye, poor Liz is astrainin’ them eyes-a-hers as she’s alookin’ out inta the blackness. An’ ajumpin’ nearly out a her skin, she let’s out a li’l whelp an’ cocks that forty-five at the same time as tew ghostly, orange faces alla sudden appears out a nowhar in the flickerin’ firelight. No bodies, jus’ faces fer gorsh sakes. She freezes in myrtle fear…

“Evenin’ Ma’am,” sez one as tew tall fellers asteps up closer ta the fire. She alets out a sigh a relief as she now sees badges an’ aswingin’ watchchains reflectin’ back at ‘er. “Evenin’ gents,” they sez tagether addressin’ the boys. “What…oh!” sez the Captain, not agittin’ tew his feets an’ Mel not movin’ atall. “How-dy yerselfs,” he replies aliftin’ his haid with a grin what’s crooked sum. “ …A drink?’’ he sez aliftin’ the jug. Thems wave it off.

“Well, kin ya sit aspell?” sez Cap. Say, yew wouldn’t happen tew’ve brung wood with ya, has ya? Thems’s haids shake slowly as they’s alookin’ aroun’. “We been ex-pectin’ ya. Sit yerselfs down,” slurs Cap. “WHAT?” snaps the taller one. “What I mean,” sez Cap atryin’ ta make his tongue an’ mind work at the same time, “…is we’s been ‘spectin’ ta have some company ashow up at our fire an’ shar our most excellent whiskey tuh-night, friend ER stranger. Don’t matter…What in hail abrings yew outchere ifn ifn ya caint drink er swap stories an’ ya aint gots no wood?” He offers up the jug agin.

“Thanks, no…I’m Virgil Earp,” sez the tallest gravely, “an’ this is ma brother, Morgan. One a our wimmens arun off by herself, yesterdie, an’ her ol’ man, what’s busy at cards, asked us to track her down.” Cap struggles tew his feets, introduces hisself with a low bow an’ Mel, tew, what now looks in the fadin’ firelight like one a them hunched-over, stone gargoils, not sayin’ nuthin’. Still asqueekin’ the box sum, tho, whilst still breathin’.

“…Her name’s Kate,” sez Morgan, “an’ she’s a big, brash, vulgar critter in a nice dress, but winsum ta look at. Caint miss her. Has yew er yer people seen her ride thru here?” “Oh,” sez Cap, “…about so tall an’ so wide?” he gestures with acc’racy. “That’s right!” sez Virgil, his eyes gittin’ wide. “Nope,” sez the Captain and asits hisself down agin. The tall man snarls an’ looks all asquinty-eyed at Cap. “…But ifn we dew see ‘er, one er tew a our party’ll be pleased ta escort ‘er home,” sez Cap jus’ in time, probly. “Shur ya caint sit aspell…an’ warm yer bones…an’ shar a few yarns?”

(Well, whilst all this jawin’ is agoin’ on, I’m astandin’ in the shadows awaitin’ ma turn, asweatin’ dang bullets an’ afumblin’ fer ma gun as I’m ahearin’ our Cap busy adiggin’ his grave with his mouf.)

“We’re mighty obliged,” sez Virgil salootin’, “but we best be movin’ on. It’s agittin’ late an’ soon we’s gonna hafta give up the ghost fer the night. But ifn we finds ‘er with a man, he gits daid. Ifn’ her ‘husband’ was ta find ‘er with a man, EVERONE gits daid. Yew savvy?”

“Yepwell…, good luck, men,” bids the Captain and them tew aturns thems’s backs vanishin’ jus’ like they come.

Wellsir, Mel stops abreathin’ an’ the box stops asqueezin’ an’ jus’ then, a high-pitched scream rings out half way ‘tween a cry an’ a laugh an’ afills the ar. Our boy’s face goes white an’ bloodless as Virgil reappears producin’ a big ol’, eight-inch, nickled, Smith & Wesson an’ apullin’ back the hammer. Morgan does likewise.“WHAT WAS THAT?” snaps Virgil. “That sounds like Kate,” he exclaims alookin’ ta Morgan fer agreemint an’ the tew holsters them guns an’ amoves off quickly in the di-rection a the only lantern in camp still lit…the wagon.

“Wait JUSST a moment, boys…Hold yer hosses,” ablurts out Cap adrawin’ his own Colt. “Caint let ya dew that, I’m afraid.” “An’, why is that? asks Morgan awhirlin’ back aroun’, agawkin’ an’ astickin’ up his hands slow-like. Virgil tew. “Aint nuthin’,” pipes up Mel acomin’ back ta life woke up by all the commotion. “Jus’ one a OUR wimmens…” he mumbles intendin’ ta finish the sentense with “…probly areadin’ one a them dime novels agin…ba candle light…er sump’um. He gits cut short. “Thar it goes agin, Virg. Shur sounds like Kate.” yells Morgan.

Liz has done backed away slowly minutes ago an’ now all them hens is arunnin’ ‘round the wagon atearin’ them’s har agin an’ awhisperin’ ta Kate ta hide herself as ifn thar was even that possability. But Kate caint hear fer all the noise she’s amakin’.

“Hold on thar, Mister. Yew gots sump’um ta say? sez Virgil. “Ya know,” Morgan breaks in, “…ye’r drunk an’ we’s sober, an’ we kin draw an’ cut yew ta pieces whar ya stands bafore yew kin even think ‘bout movin’ that finger… At the least, one a us is gonna live; yer gonna die, unnerstand? Now, drop that gun.” Captain Ball, asoberin’ up fast, alowers his aim, arolls the Colt unner his finger an’ slowly alets it drop ta the groun’, ahopin’ ta buy enuff time ta think a sump’um genyus ta say. Bofe mens adraws thems’s pieces agin.

“Good, good fer yew,” sez Morgan. “Ye’r re-eal smart. Now ifn that’s truly one a yer wimmens in that wagon, yew gits ta live anuther day. Don’t that sound good ta yew? Now, Virg, I reckon these tew is agonna escort us over an’ make interductions, convenient er not, don’t yew?” “I reckon,” sez Virgil. “Now, git yer asses movin’.”

(‘Bout this time, I’m ashakin’ in ma boots an’ ‘bout ta piss ma britches. Ma gun’s ashakin’ in ma hand sump’um fierce an’ I’m atryin’ not ta breave tew loud. “God spare the Captain an’ Mel…an’me,” I mumbles unner ma breaf. Then ma mind’s agoin’ wild with ‘maginations a Doc asneakin’ down here late in the wee hours like a foamin’, snarlin’, stalkin’ animal on his way ta afinishin’ the job. Wimmens tew, probly.)

Cap’s asweatin’ a river, hisself now, ‘cause nuthin’s acomin’ ta mind an’, strangely, Mel’s no help, neither. Wy, it’s all that ol’ boy kin dew ta jus’ git his brain ta figgerin’ how he’s agonna git the drop on them tew gunmens with his own bellygun afore Muleskinners astarts abitin’ the dust…

(Wy, it haint even acome ta his slushy ol’ mind, yet, as ta jus’ how famous he’ll be fer atakin’ down tew a the Earp brothers…er jus’ how daid, neither. Nonetheless, a dang site more famous than aworkin’ the ol’ Birdcage Theater in Tombstone, awavin’ a full bottle a whiskey in front of a dang spotlamp fer drama’s sake, I’ll wager.)

It’s tense as hail now as the four is approachin’ that noisy, noddin’ wagon. Cap is ashakin’ an’ aclenchin’ his teef ta keep ‘em from achatterin’. The wimmens is all four of ‘em stiff-as-stilts on thems’s feets, now, Liz an’ abigale apeerin’ out from bahind the wagon. But, afrozen in thems’s tracks, they is, an’ unable ta cock them tew Colts. Annn', ashakin’ like the Captain, an’ ahidin’ thems’s faces in hoss blankets all but the eyes, wy, thems’s afixes thems’s gaze on the tew dark-as-hail forms still aseein’ ‘em as a couple a deaf-dealin’ demons.

“Y’ALL OUGHTA BE ASHAMED A YORESELVES!” come a loud voice out a nowhere. Wy, it is. It’s a agitated Miss Abigale what gots ahold a herself with her hands on her hips. “…An’ YEW calls YERSELVES gentlemen…, HUH!”

“NOW, HUSH YER MOUFS, ALL A YA, AN’ HAVE A LI’L RESPECT. HAINT YEW TEW NUMBSKULLS NEVER BAFORE HEARD NO WOMAN IN LABOR?”

Yores,

Griz

P.S. (Miss “Big Nose” Kate aleft our camp on her hoss bafore sunup next mornin’ after sum goodbyes tew a few a the ladies.We was all a us bofe delighted an’ dismayed ta see her go. She wadn’ happy ‘bout goin’, neither, ner was she lookin’ forward ta the ass-whoopin’ she was shurly gonna git fer the worry she caused her Doc an’ the Earps.)

(…Oh, she did leave a li’l perfumed letter a thanks ta Rufus T leanin’ ‘gainst the candlestick with the candle still aburnin’ in his wagon fer the gen’rous use of it. Only thing is, atydin’ up in thar an’ without aknowin’ it, she moved the candle an’ letter unner a bag a blastin' caps ahangin’ thar.)

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