Read Weird West 04 - The Doctor and the Dinosaurs for Free Online

follow.”
    “Good. It'll give me a chance to practice my tracking skills,” said Roosevelt. “In the meantime, since this thing they sold me is a pretty spiritless trail horse…” He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a book.
    “Don't you ever rest or relax?” asked Holliday.
    “Reading relaxes me.”
    “I'm sure it relaxes a lot of people—but not on horseback, in enemy territory, when we're almost certainly being watched or followed.”
    “Being watched and followed in enemy territory is practically a given,” answered Roosevelt. “If they start shooting, I'll put the book away.”
    It comes back to me , thought Holliday. I admired your brain and your energy and your courage, but I never really liked you. You are not only the most accomplished man I've ever met; you can also be the most irritating. I'm so annoyed now that I might as well climb back up on this goddamned horse. Which he did.
    They rode in silence until it was too dark to read. Then Roosevelt pulled some beef jerky out of his saddlebag, offered a piece to Holliday, and carefully replaced his book in a different compartment.
    “What were you reading?” asked Holliday, washing down a bite of jerky with a swig from his flask.
    “ A Tale of Two Cities ,” answered Roosevelt. “By—”
    “I know,” interrupted Holliday. “Better than The Pickwick Papers , not up to David Copperfield .”
    “Right,” said Roosevelt. “I keep forgetting that you're one of the literate shootists.”
    “It gave me something to do while my patients were screaming in agony,” replied Holliday.
    Roosevelt threw back his head and laughed. “You can be a very witty man when you forget that you're mad at the world.”
    “Oh, I forgive it most of its transgressions. I just wish it would leave me alone.” He grimaced. “And I guess it will, in a year at the outside.”
    “I wouldn't bet on it, Doc,” said Roosevelt.
    “That was my deal.”
    “I know, but Geronimo's an intelligent man. He'll find more uses for you.”
    “Well, next time I'm going to insist on a full recovery,” said Holliday, coughing into a blood-stained handkerchief.
    They decided not to build a fire or rest for the night. They couldn't be sure all the Comanche warriors would be content merely to watch and follow them, and the sooner they reached one of the paleontologist's camps the sooner they'd stop being easy targets should the warriors have a change of heart.
    It was in mid-afternoon of the next day that they began seeing unmistakable signs of a white man's camp. Half an hour later—it should have taken ten minutes, but Roosevelt kept stopping to watch birds and sketch unusual plants and trees—they came upon a dozen tents, which would only provide shelter for another month or two before the nights became too cold, and a hastily constructed log building. Though empty, the camp showed signs of recent habitation, so the two men dismounted, turned their horses loose in a primitive corral, and sat down by the remains of the morning's fire.
    “That log building has to be where they're keeping whatever they pull out of the ground,” remarked Roosevelt.
    “You could always find out for sure and take a look,” said Holliday.
    Roosevelt shook his head. “I don't mind being rude and not waiting for them to come from their dig to show me, but I have absolutely no idea what I'd be looking at.”
    “Yeah, I suppose that does make a difference,” agreed Holliday.
    “How big can this burial ground be?” mused Roosevelt.
    “Well, the one back in Arizona, where we had them move the train tracks, was at least twenty miles long, and maybe three or four miles wide,” said Holliday. He thought about it, and shrugged. “Hell, for all I know, it was fifty miles long. All I know for sure is that we had them move it.”
    “And was that the only burial ground?”
    “You mean for the Apaches?” asked Holliday. “No, I know of at least three or four more.”
    “So Cope and Marsh could