Chapter Eight
There sure was a ruckus east of Doubtful that evening. The medicine show was going full bore, with one act after another, but now there was the orphan wagons parked nearby, in some cottonwoods. It looked like the whole town of Doubtful was on hand, and so were a mess of cowboys off the ranches.
All them orphans, they were cut loose to go wherever they wanted. The girls, they clumped together and seemed timid, but the boys, they roared around looking for ways to get into trouble. Mr. and Mrs. McCoy, they just roamed placidly, keeping an eye on the orphans.
The accordionist, he finished up a jig on that little wagon stage, even as the two teamsters lit some oil lamps as dusk settled. The stage, backed by one wagon, was all lit up, drawing attention to the show. I wandered around behind the stage, looking for trouble, but most of them medicine show people, they just sat on folding chairs and smoked cigars, including the women.
The professor appeared, all fixed up in his tux and tails and stovepipe hat, and now he climbed a few steps and got out in front of that mob. This would be his last pitch; whatever he didn’t sell tonight, he’d have to sell in the next town.
“Ah, my friends, my new lifelong friends in this noble town of Doubtful, Wyoming, we come to the moment of parting. Tomorrow, Doctor Zimmer’s medicinal exhibit will pack up, not only all of our things, but all of our sweet memories, and hasten away.
“Now I’ve told you all about what my famous elixir does for the mortal body, but I have yet to speak of what it does for animals. The tonic is known to put new life in old horses and mules, to put joy into a venerable dog, and it has a special effect on draft horses, making them eager to pull and tug, and turning them young again. A spoonful for your horse, and the plowing goes better.
“My friends, animals have their own sorrows of body and soul. They age and grow weary. They faithfully carry the cowboy on his daily rounds. They draw heavy wagons, and pull plows, and drag buggies. And they hurt, just like we mortals hurt after a hard day. Any cowboy who knows his horse knows how much the horse has given to him that day, all-out help, every hour.
“Now, long ago some cowboys discovered that a little dose of Doctor Zimmer’s Tonic comforts their faithful and noble horses. It needn’t be much; maybe two teaspoons of it, mixed with the grain, and lo, behold, their animals are young and frisky again, and ready for the next hard day. It’s an act of charity, an act of kindness, to treat your faithful horse or mule or dog to this tonic that restores youth and vitality in them.
“Now, to prove my point, I invite someone to bring his horse up to the stage, and I will supply an absolutely free dose of my tonic, and you will soon see that old horse sigh, smile, and dance. Are there any takers?”
Sure enough, several cowboys were running to fetch their horses, and in a moment, one showed up. Zimmer expertly opened the horse’s jaw and pumped a spoonful of his tonic into the beast, which licked and slurped, and then farted.
“Now, friends, it takes a little time for you to see the results, so while we wait, I’ll be pleased to sell you two bottles for one, as my going-away offer, two dollars for two bottles of Doctor Zimmer’s Medicine Tonic.”
Sure enough, a mess of cowboys lined up in front of the teamster who was doling out the bottles and collecting the cash. He must have sold twenty bottles or so when the horse began weaving, rocking, swaying, and finally settled to earth, sighed, rolled over on its back, and pawed the air.
“There, you see? One happy horse,” said Zimmer, who sounded a little worried. “Listen to him pass gas; the mark of true happiness in any livestock. Show me a farting horse, and I’ll show you a happy horse.”
But he stared anxiously at the downed animal, until at last the beast got up on its forelegs, and then staggered up on his rear legs, and shook the dirt off.
“One happy horse,” Zimmer bellowed.
The cowboys flocked around the beast, patting it, tweaking it, studying it, and mostly agreeing. The tonic had wrought joy in the old plug.
“There, you see? The salvation of man and beast!” Zimmer announced. “Buy now, because it may be a long while before I return with my fine company of performers. Buy now, because the sand is flowing through the hourglass, and in the morning, we’ll be on our way, heading to the next town, to give them all an opportunity to enjoy Doctor Zimmer’s famous tonic. Buy it now, to relieve the sorrows of dogs, babies, horses, mules, goats, women, schoolteachers, merchants, law officers, and hoboes. And to improve all nighttime activities.”
Well, I had to credit Zimmer. Those cowboys ponied up in a long line and began to shell out their hard-won cash for the tonic, instead of blowing it all in the saloons. But then an old gray cowboy reached into his britches to buy some of that joy juice, and came up empty.
“I been robbed,” he bawled. “Some light-fingered whelp’s made off with my purse.”
That sure caused a commotion, and pretty quick, most of them cowboys were digging into their pants, making sure they still had their cash and private parts, and a mess more came up missing their pay.
“Some little whelp’s gone and dug into my pants,” yelled another son of the prairies.
I didn’t doubt what started the crime wave, and headed straight for them little orphan buggers, who were racing around there. I’d had my eye on one, a carrot-topped little punk that looked mean as a lobo wolf, and pretty fast. I snatched him by the collar and flattened him on the dirt, and dug into his pockets, and sure enough, there were three purses he’d purloined while working that crowd, and by then Rusty had snagged another punk, this one with blond hair and a big jaw, and he proved to be another light-finger genius, with four more cowboy purses stuffed into his pants.
Them cowboys saw all this, and snared the rest of the orphan boys, and dug into their pockets, while the McCoys sounded like a pair of squawking pigeons. But the cowboys came up empty. Rusty and me, we’d got the two pickpocket punks. It took a while to get the purses back to the right owners, and have them count up the cash, but in time we got it all squared away, and they got back into line and bought Zimmer’s Miracle Elixir for their horses and their own carcasses. There wasn’t a man or woman or merchant around there that wasn’t checking purses and wallets and pockets. And the orphans, male and female, vamoosed over to their own camp and hid out. I sure wondered how the adoptions would go the next morning on the courthouse steps.
Zimmer, he got his performers to strike up a tune, and pretty soon the next acts, the fat woman in the grass skirt and the fiddler, were hard at it in the yellow light of the lamps.
Rusty and me, we dragged those two little hooligans off to the jail and set them down for some serious palavering.
“You first,” I said to the red-haired one. “What’s your name?”
“My name’s whatever you choose. I don’t got none, but Mickey’ll do. And if you want me to fess up, you got it. I’ve been snatching purses since I was six, and I almost got enough to retire tonight.”
“You with that orphan train?”
“Them turds. I almost got away tonight.”
I turned to the blond kid. “And you?”
“Call me the Big Finn, copper. I got more loot than Mickey, and I’ll whip his ass any time.”
“Where’d you grow up?”
“Nowhere. Hell’s Kitchen, but you’re too dumb to figure that out.”
“Where’s that?”
“I don’t know. That’s where this orphan outfit caught me. Regular snare net come down over me and they hauled me off to here.”
“You want to spend the rest of your days behind them bars there?”
“Beats getting adopted and having to work my ass off for a living. That’s what it is, pal, slave labor. That’s a slave labor outfit, selling us out.”
“You been doing this all your life?”
“Since I was old enough to spit, copper.”
“You want to go to the pen, the big brick pile, and hammer rocks the rest of your life?”
“Hey, they feed me, right?”
“Yeah,” said Mickey, “toss us in there. We get three squares a day, and don’t have to lift a finger.”
“You got any remorse?” Rusty asked.
“What’s that? If it’s worth something, I’ll cop some for you.”
“I stole a bottle of Zimmer’s dope,” the Finn said. “It’s in the wagon. I’m gonna go on a wild ride.”
“Where’d you get that?”
“Right off the table when that big galoot was making change.”
“What do you want to be when you’re grown?” I asked.
“A paid clock-stopper. Them gents get a hunnert dollars for each hit. I’d kill me half a dozen and live like a king. I’d slit their throats; beats having a gun.”
By this time, I sure was wondering what to do, and the most likely thing to do was get these two out of town as fast as the orphan train would take them. I couldn’t think of anything that would slow this pair down.
That’s when King Glad walked in. King, and his sister, Queen, ran the Admiral Ranch outside of Doubtful. They were both tough customers, as hard as any people got, but straight shooters. Their pa had started the outfit, and employed the roughest hands in Puma County, including Big Nose George, Spitting Sam, Smiley Thistlethwaite, and Alvin Ream. They sure weren’t men to mess with, and most of them were recruited from jails back East. The Glads ran their outfit with an iron hand, and smart people left them alone.
“I heard about the ruckus,” King said. “These the little punks?”
“Yep, this here’s Mickey, from off the streets somewhere, and this one’s the Big Finn, from Hell’s Kitchen, wherever that is.”
“Perfect,” said King. “They’re just what I’m looking for.”
“Naw, they’re not. This one here, he wants to stay in jail because he gets meals and no work; this other, he wants to be a contract killer and live easy.”
Glad turned to the punks. “My kind of fellers,” he said. “I’ll indenture you tomorrow, when they have that hoedown on the courthouse steps.”
“You know what you’re doing, King?”
He grinned at me. “Sheriff, I run the best reform school in Wyoming. A few days with Spitting Sam and Big Nose, and they’ll be the best little workers around.”
“I’m locking them up tonight, King.”
“I’ll buy them tomorrow,” he said.
Not a bad deal, I thought. Except maybe the brats would steal the ranch.