the Gentleman Gunfighter, C. F. Allison [best e reader for android .txt] 📗

peaceful place in his thoughts and was content as he rode on into the prairie.

“I thought I smelled a skunk.” Clay heard a voice call out from the porch as he approached the ranch house. It was John. He was drinking a cup of coffee and smoking a cigar. He always enjoyed the outside after he finished his supper. “Well come on up here and get you a cup of this coffee brother.”

Clay secured his horse to the hitching post and walked up the steps to join his brother. They talked and drank coffee well into the night, catching up on everything of interest. Clay asked John if he had heard anything from Mario or Jack since he had taken over Clay’s ranch. “No, the last I heard from them they were still with the McNulty Company.” John told him. “I stopped by there on my errand, but I didn’t see ‘em.” Clay replied.

Clay and John talked for some time until John finally decided to go on inside and retire for the night. Clay stayed on the porch a little longer, switching to whiskey to help him nurse a molar on the bottom right. The tooth had been giving him some trouble for a while, but Clay didn’t care much for dentist and was dreading the trip to go and see one, but it was time to quit putting it off. The pain was getting more and more unbearable. Tomorrow was Saturday and Clay decided he would bite the bullet sort of speak and go on into town and get it taken care of.

The roosters around the ranch house had no mercy when the sun came up. With the pounding in Clay’s head from the almost full bottle of whiskey he had polished off the night before. It seemed all of them intentionally congregated around his window just to assist the hammer on the anvil feeling he was experiencing.

Clay was saddling his horse when John emerged from the house, “Where you off too big brother?” He asked. “I got to run into town and get this tooth looked at.” He answered with a slight distortion on his face. “I’ll be back by sunset.” He added as he mounted up and began to ride off towards town.

It wasn’t but a few minutes after noon when Clay got to town and he thought to himself, ‘Might as well get a little bracer before going to see the dentist.’ He went into the local saloon and downed a quick six or so shots then walked on down the street to the first dentist he could find. At least now that hammer beating on the anvil in his head had stopped and he could hold he face straight for the time being.

He walked into the dentist office. Inside he saw the dentist, a young fellow, nice looking for a dentist Clay thought. ‘This guy can’t be too long out of doctoring school.’ Clay thought to himself. “Can I help you sir?” The young man asked. “I hope so.” Clay responded. “I got this tooth that’s giving me a nag once and again.” He continued. “Well then,” the young dentist began. “Hit a seat and let’s take a look at it.” He said.

Clay sat down in the ‘barber’s chair’ as he called it and opened his mouth wide for the doctor. The young dentist walked over and used his mirror to take a look at the ailing molar. “My goodness. I bet that dude is giving you fits. We can fix you right up.” He gave Clay some Ludlum and grabbed his extraction tool. After a few minutes he told Clay to open wide and began to jerk and pull.

It was only a second or two before Clay realized that this guy had no idea what he was doing. The first clue was the incredible pain he was beginning to feel and when he heard the sound of a tooth breaking off, that was the clincher. Clay jumped up from the seat and ran out of the office hollering “Stupid bastard!” Along with a few other obscenities.

He made his way to yet another dentist office, now in severe pain. The older, more experienced dentist requested he leave his gun belt at the door but Clay only replied, “You don’t hurt me, and I wont hurt you.” Keeping his pistol belt on Clay sat in the chair and the dentist numbed his mouth thoroughly and began to pull both the bad tooth and the tooth damaged by the young man Clay had first seen across town. “Mr. Allison.” He said. “Don’t be going back to that goof anymore now, you hear. You have any more trouble you just come to me.”
“Don’t worry Doc, I like the way you work.” Clay replied. “You’re the only one I’ll be coming to from now on out.” Clay left and went to the local saloon for a bottle from there, and to contemplate what he was going to do about the idiot that was pulling the wrong tooth. About half way through the bottle it came to Clay what would be proper revenge. He laughed to himself and thought, ‘I know just what that quack needs for a lesson’.

Clay stumbled his way down the walk to the young dentist he had made the mistake of visiting first. When he got there he went right inside to find the doctor in the beginning of treating another patient. “I wouldn’t let him touch me if I were you mister.” Clay said. “The man’s an idiot.” He finished. “Now see here…” is all the young dentist managed to get out before Clay hit him in the head with the barrel of his Colt pistol. “I think I’d be leaving now if I was you fella.” Clay said to the man still sitting in the chair with a look of disbelief on his face. The man quickly got up and ran out the door, apron still hanging around his neck and cotton still in his mouth.

The young dentist was still unconscious when Clay slung him into the barbershop chair. He took the tape from the shelves in the room and wrapped them around the dentist wrist, waist, and ankles so the young man couldn’t get up from the chair. Then he taped the doctor’s head down so he couldn’t move it either. Clay saw a pitcher on the nearby tower, filled with water. He took the pitcher and tossed the water on his young prisoners face. The man woke up and began shouting, “What the hell is going on here.” Clay just laughed that cenacle laugh he had so many times before and said, “So you have a tooth that’s ailing you do you? Well lets see what we can do about that.”

Clay pulled a table over to himself. It had all kinds of different looking things on it. Strange things. Tool looking things for working with teeth. “Lets see Here, what does this do?” Clay asked picking up the tool that looked kind of like a fence line cutter. Plier looking things with a curved end on them.

Clay grabbed the funny looking pliers and pried the young dentist mouth open. He began to pulled the mans teeth out while he shouted, “How do you like it you stupid bastard!” After he had pulled about five teeth and the dentist was screaming in pain, nonstop now, the sheriff came running in and stopped him. “That’s enough Clay. I think he’s learned his lesson.” He said. Clay gave out a laugh and dropped the tool, then walked out the door.

Clay walked through the door of the saloon with a sense of satisfaction about him. He picked up the bottle he had been nursing earlier and proceeded to finish it off. The bartender had put behind the bar to hold on to it for him when he left to go see the dentist. He knew Clay would be back from his reputation around town and would want it.
“I do believe I see a Rebel rouser in here. I just hate Rebel Rousers.” A voice called out from the doorway. Clay looked up to see who was picking a fight with him and saw a tall familiar figure looking him over. “Doc! What the hell are you doing in Cimarron?” Clay shouted. “Get yourself over here and have a drink old friend.” Doc walked over and sat down and Clay asked again what he was doing in town. Doc explained that he had been to Louisiana and thought he would make the trip out of the way to see an old friend. He was actually on his way to Tucson to meet up with Wyatt. “Wyatt’s taken to being the law there and I heard he was overwhelmed with troubles. I thought I’d go help out if I could.” He finished.

Clay and Doc sat and drank. Playing cards until well after sundown. They had talked and caught up on old times and were having a nice time in general when John appeared in the doorway. “I got a little worried about you big brother. You said you’d be home before dark.” Clay explained to him all that had happened that day and invited him to sit down and join them. John sat down and had a few drinks then invited Doc to come out to the ranch house and spend the night. “Beats the hell out of a hotel room and you’re always welcome at our place.” He said. After Clay insisted Doc finally agreed and they all left to go home.

Morning came and they all sat and visited for a while after breakfast before Doc left to continue on his journey. Clay had filled Doc’s flask with whiskey for him. A sort of going away gift he said. It just wouldn’t be ‘Southern Hospitality’ if he didn’t fix him with something to drink on his ride he told Doc. “Around these parts we don’t send nobody off without preparing the necessaries.” Clay said. “You have a safe ride Doc.” He told him as Doc rode away. “Watch you backside Clay.” Doc replied and rode off into the desert.
Clay thought about riding with him but decided against it keeping in mind the events of the last meeting with Wyatt. He decided it wouldn’t be a good idea. Instead Clay decided to go into town for a while and just relax and have a good time. As Clay saddled his horse John came out and asked what was going on. All Clay said was he needed to spend some time in town with himself. He said he had to contemplate what was running through his mind. John left it at that and told Clay to have a good time.

Clay decided on his way into town not to stay there.