"Uh-oh, forgot to load," he said.

"Well, load then, but don't shoot," I said.

"I'm reasonably pleased with my shooting," Uncle Seth said. "The tripod is a fine invention."

The Tebbit brothers weren't pleased with anything, though. The fact that the ambushers had pulled up annoyed them greatly.

"Charlie, come get us!" Newt yelled. "Why'd you stop?"

"Why does he think they stopped?" Mr. Hickok said, amused. He lit one of his thin cigars. "Seth was shooting all their horses--that's why they stopped."

"It's our play, Baldy--what do you want to do?" Uncle Seth asked.

"I'm not sure," Sheriff Baldy said.

"Thursday's slipping away," Mr. Hickok reminded him, though it was still early enough that the morning mist had just burned off.

9 I GUESS from the sheriff's point of view the situation must have looked complicated. The ambushers were sort of milling around, paying no attention at all to Newt and Percy Tebbit, who were still hoping to be rescued. Two of the men who had been spilled off their horses were back on their feet, but they weren't walking too steady. Ronnie Miller, the man whose horse had turned a flip, wasn't moving at all.

"Do you suppose this bunch would agree to be arrested?" the sheriff asked. "It's a passel of people to cram into jail, much less feed."

"Arrested for what?" Uncle Seth asked. "All they did was race their horses--you can't arrest people for holding horse races."

Mr. Hickok raised an eyebrow at Uncle Seth's remark, but the sheriff just looked confused. "What?" he asked.

29

"So far I'm the only one who's broken the law," Uncle Seth went on. "I just shot three horses that didn't belong to me, and I may have killed that fellow whose horse flipped over."

"No, I seen him stir," Mr. Hickok said. "I expect him to get up any minute."

The sheriff looked even more confused. It was the kind of thing Uncle Seth was always doing: turning some simple matter around so that everybody became confused. I've heard Ma flare up at him a hundred times, for just that sort of thing.

"How can you say that to me, Seth! Why would you say such a thing to me?"

Ma would say. Sometimes she'd cry and sometimes there'd be bitter words--

Uncle Seth would always just sit there with a pleasant look on his face, until the storm blew over. "There's nothing wrong with looking at the other fellow's point of view," he might say, if he said anything.

"Yes there is!" Ma would cry. "Yes, there is. Just look at my point of view! That's what you need to worry about."

The ambushers were still milling around. It was clear that they couldn't decide what to do. The two Tebbits had yelled themselves hoarse, but nobody seemed interested in rescuing them. Finally they began to hobble on down the slope, as fast as they could hobble. The man whose horse had flipped got up on his hands and knees.

"Ronnie Miller must be lucky," Uncle Seth said. "A tumble like that could easily have broken his neck."

"This would be a simpler situation if the two men we really want were here," Mr. Hickok said. "That would be Jake Miller and Little Billy Perkins."

"And Cut-Nose," the sheriff said. "Cut-Nose is a pretty cold killer."

"As to that I wouldn't know," Mr. Hickok said. "All I see are a bunch of amateur ambushers. If they knew their business they would have fallen on us while we were still in the mist. Seth's tripod wouldn't have been much use in that mist."

About that time the two Tebbits finally reached the gang of horsemen.

Though all the horses were skinny, the Tebbits and the men whose horses Uncle Seth had shot climbed up behind the mounted men; then they all rode away. Some of the puny little horses could barely stagger along, under the weight of two men and their saddles and gear.

"Damnit, this is awkward--they're headed for the Miller shack," Sheriff Baldy said.

"It's worse than awkward--something ain't right," Uncle Seth said. "That was too easy, even if I am good at shooting horses out from under people."

"Agreed--I believe they've flanked us," Mr. Hickok said. "The real team, I mean."

30

Uncle Seth and Mr. Hickok began to amble around as if the departure of the ambushers had confused them so badly that they didn't know which way to turn. In the course of their ambling both of them switched from the uphill to the downhill side of their horses.

"Don't look, boys," Uncle Seth said. "Baldy, you're likely to be the first man shot unless you change your position and change it quick."

"I don't think anybody's behind-- " the sheriff said, before a bullet splatted into him and knocked him off his horse.

"Duck behind your horses, boys--do it quick," Uncle Seth said. G.T. and I were quick to obey.

The gang behind us wasn't as numerous as the gang in front of us--on the other hand, they were a lot closer. They were no more than two hundred yards away, and there were six of them that I could see.

"Do we still have to count to ten?" I asked Uncle Seth, but I never got an answer: he was too busy shooting, and so was Mr. Hickok and Sheriff Baldy, who didn't seem to be dead.

"These Rebs, they love a cavalry charge," Uncle Seth commented, at one point. Just then I heard G.T.'s teeth chattering--his teeth always went to clacking when he was nervous or scared, whether it was a cold day or not.

"By God, they've flushed that bear you mentioned, Seth," Sheriff Baldy said--and it was the truth. The new bunch of ambushers had run right up on a large black bear that must have been taking a nap behind a rock. He woke up from his nap to find himself in the midst of a gun battle, which he didn't want any part of. The ambushers were nearly on top of the bear before any of them saw him--they were too busy shooting at us. The sight of a bear square in their way startled them a good deal, and did worse than startle their horses, most of which flew into wild buckings.

"Hold your fire," Uncle Seth said. "Baldy, you need to deputize that bear--he's doing our work better than we could do it."

That was easy to see. The bear ran through the horses and the horses went wild. Pretty soon riders were flying off in every direction--the horses, once shut of their riders, went tearing off toward Stumptown. Only one of the six riders managed to keep his seat.

"That's Little Billy Perkins. Hands off," Mr. Hickok said, pointing at the one man who was still in the saddle. Mr. Hickok jumped on his horse-Little Billy Perkins spotted him at once and took off down the slope. He was mounted on a long-legged bay--soon they were nearly flying. Mr.

Hickok tried to cut him off but his sorrel wasn't fast enough--the bay had the lead and was widening it by the minute as the two riders headed for the distant trees.

"That's the horse you should have shot, Seth," Sheriff Baldy said.

"Too late now," Uncle Seth said. "Wild Bill may have to break his Friday rule if he hopes to catch that fellow."

"What about the bear--I don't see him," G.T. said.

31

"No, he probably went home," Uncle Seth said.

"I don't think he appreciated having his nap interrupted."

"I expect he's hiding somewhere, waiting to spring out," G.T. said. That was my opinion too, although I didn't say it.

"Oh no, Mr. Bear won't be back today," Uncle Seth assured us. "We need to go arrest these killers. Baldy, are you hurt bad?"