This one was fun to write. I hope it's fun to read, too. All Doc, all day.


After lunch on Sunday, Wyatt was confident enough in his plan to head off to make "arrangements" for their journey. The idea of tagging along to the livery stable and looking up the owner of the general store did not appeal to Doc. Besides, he was still pondering how to get something out of the strange turn of events. Kate had made good money from her wager on Wyatt's behavior before. It was his turn.

Who's an easy mark? The young, impressionable Bat Masterson came to mind. The fellow appeared to have a deep admiration for Wyatt, along with a concern about not looking weak or foolish in front of him. The sentiments seemed rather brotherly. Yes, easy prey. But how to set the trap, and what sort of bait to use?

Doc strolled down the boardwalk, in no hurry to get anywhere. He got out his deck of cards and shuffled them in the air as he walked. Eventually, he turned toward the jail and made his way there in a couple of minutes. The front door was open, probably in an attempt to coax a breeze through the stuffy interior. To Doc's satisfaction, Masterson was behind the desk, leaning back in his chair and holding a copy of the Dodge Times.

"Doctor Holliday," Masterson said, sitting up and setting the paper aside. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, just checking up on my patient," Doc said. "I can't get a card game today, and I'm on the missus' bad side, so there isn't much to do."

"Things are quiet here too. People tend to behave themselves a little better on Sundays."

"Yes, I suppose we do," Doc said, taking some amusement in including himself in the acknowledgement. He grabbed a second chair from under the small, open window and dragged it over to the desk to sit across from Masterson. "Anything interesting in the Times?"

Masterson shrugged. "It's yesterday's. You can look at it if you want. There's an article about a new supply of quality shirts coming to the mercantile from New York."

"Precut clothes," Doc said with disdain, momentarily distracted from his purpose. "Uniformity is all right for the military, but I like to see variety among the civilians, do you agree, Mister Masterson?"

"Oh, sure. But after all, it's only shirts. Usually, you don't see much more than the sleeves anyway. Cuffs and collar only, once the cold weather sets in."

"I suppose." Doc did not care for cold weather, and it was time to change the topic anyway. He got his cards out again. "Care for a little five card draw?"

Masterson appeared to consider it, but then shrank back a little. "On Sunday? Probably shouldn't."

"Just a friendly game," Doc persisted. "You can wager with an unlimited supply of make-believe money. We'll just keep score on paper."

"I guess that wouldn't hurt anything."

Doc shuffled the deck and offered it to Masterson to cut before he dealt their cards. "So, how long have you known Wyatt Earp?"

"Not all that long..." Masterson picked up his cards and studied them. "We crossed paths a couple of times before we both settled in Dodge. But we've already seen quite a bit of action together. I feel I know him pretty well." There was some pride in his voice that he seemed to be attempting to pass off as nonchalance.

"Then maybe you can settle a matter of a rumor I heard. Bet?"

"Oh, uh... let's say five make-believe dollars. What's the rumor?"

"The rumor is, Wyatt's planning to join the Union Church. I see that and raise you two."

"Ha!" Masterson was grinning. "I think someone was pulling your leg, Doc."

"Cards?"

"Two."

Doc dealt Masterson two new cards. He himself held a pair of eights. After a moment's consideration, he said, "Dealer takes two," and also got himself two fresh cards. This awarded him a match to the third card he had kept, an ace. "I heard it from what I think was a reliable source."

"Yeah? Who?"

"I don't want to say."

"Well, whoever it is, they're wrong. I mean, attend, maybe. But join?" Masterson shook his head emphatically. "Call."

"Two pair. And I'll bet you five real dollars that the rumor is true."

Masterson frowned upon seeing that his pair of jacks was useless. He took up a pencil and quickly marked the score in a notebook probably more regularly used for taking case notes. "Five dollars," he murmured. "That's a lot for you to put up on a rumor."

"Your hesitation suggests you believe I might be correct."

The other shook his head again. "No, I can't see it. But it's kind of a silly bet. And we're having a friendly game here... and you know Wyatt anyway... how do I know you didn't ask him yourself?"

"I didn't," Doc said truthfully. "You can believe me or not." He began shuffling again.

"Well, I hate to take some of your money back when you earned it working on my tooth..."

"How is that tooth, by the way?"

"Better already. It hurt pretty bad when the gas wore off... but I can tell I'm better off now."

"I am glad to hear it. And you needn't worry about taking your money back. I'd rather lose it to you in an honest bet than have to return it for a job poorly done." Doc dealt them each five new cards. He had kept track of where those two aces had gone, and he purposely gave them both to his opponent.

"Well, if you're sure..." Masterson sorted the cards in his hand. "I'll take you up on that bet."

"Two make-believe dollars," Doc said.

"I'll see that. Oh, but I may not be able to spare five real dollars until the end of the week. Not that I think for a minute that I could lose. Three please." He laid three cards on the table.

Doc gave him his three cards and exchanged two of his own, taking a long shot on a straight. No luck. "I suppose I could trust you until then," Doc said. "But just to make it interesting, if you don't make good on it, you also have to join the church."

Masterson laughed. "You're an odd fellow. What possible satisfaction could you take in my joining the church?"

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe I just want Wyatt to have a friend in the place."

"If you're so concerned, why not join yourself?"

"I'm staying at two. Will you accept my terms or not? If you pay up by the end of the week, it's no concern. And if you win the bet, it's no concern either."

"True... Oh, um - call."

"Queen high."

"Pair of aces. I guess I'll accept your terms. But this is the all-fired strangest thing I've ever bet on. And that's saying something." Masterson updated the score.

"Might be for me too," Doc said. He couldn't have been more delighted.


After a few more rounds of poker with Masterson, Doc bid the young man a cheerful "Good afternoon" and went in search of James. He found him and Bessie sitting on the boardwalk outside the closed Custom House saloon. James was reading from a book while Bessie practiced some needlework. She needed the practice, Doc noted. He suspected he could do better.

James paused his reading and looked up. "Hello again, Doc."

"Good afternoon," Doc said, sweeping off his hat in deference to Bessie. "I apologize for intruding. May I ask what you're reading?"

"It's Dickens. Dombey and Son."

"It's quite depressing," Bessie put in.

"Don't give up on it," Doc advised. "I think you'll find it worth the campaign."

"Would you like to listen?"

"I suppose I wouldn't mind." He smiled a little. "Have you got an extra chair?"

"I can borrow another from the saloon," James said. "I have a key. Just a moment."

While James was getting another chair, Doc picked up the book and sat beside Bessie. "You know, my mother and I used to read to each other often when I was a boy."

"How nice! James put me on to reading. I wasn't very good at it when we met, so I didn't go out of my way for it. But he enjoyed it so much, I couldn't help but want to join in."

"Is Wyatt a reader, too?"

"I don't know."

Doc felt a little disappointed. If Wyatt were an avid reader, she probably would have heard by now.

James returned and set the new chair on the far side of his wife, sitting in it rather than getting his former seat back from Doc. "Think Wyatt will really go through with joining the church?" he asked Doc as he got settled.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Doc said, smiling. He had hoped the subject would come up. "Do any of the other lawmen in town attend church?"

"I haven't really paid it any attention. I think sheriff Bassett might."

"I bet if Wyatt joins the church, young Bat Masterson will want to do the same."

"What makes you think so?"

"Well, he looks up to Wyatt."

"That doesn't seem like a very strong reason," said Bessie.

James seemed to agree. "He might attend once or twice, but I don't see a kid like him taking membership."

"What would you think of a little wager? If Wyatt joins the church, I bet Masterson does before a month goes by."

"That's an odd thing to wager on. What stakes are you proposing?"

"Ten dollars of your reward money."

"You're assuming we'll collect it."

"I don't mind that being a condition of the wager. If Wyatt joins, we're bound to go with him on the transport, so I assume we'll collect or die trying, in which case all bets would be off."

James tilted his head in acknowledgement. "All right. Ten dollars' reward money."

"Excellent." Doc held the book out toward James, over Bessie's lap. "Excuse me, Bessie."

"Why don't you read for a bit?" Bessie asked. "You said you used to enjoy it."

Doc hesitated. I enjoyed it with my mother... But he missed it. And Dickens was good. He opened the book to the marker James had left in it and held it out again. "If you'll just show me where you left off..."


Doc is just being a sneaky snake all over the place! Tricking Bat and James with his insider knowledge... What next? Well, I guess that's what happens when you close all the saloons with Doc Holliday in town - idle hands are indeed the devil's workshop. ^_^

Speaking of idle hands, please consider leaving some feedback before you go your way. You'll improve both our moods, I'm sure.