Forest Guardians Chronicles: A Matter of Humanity, Beth Roose [best motivational books for students .txt] 📗

mess in the lab, both cleaning up the broken glass and shredded paper. It turned out the Crisper was not damaged after all, but would need a thorough calibration; the rest was merely cosmetic. What great news that was. “Ahh, Garman,” Dr. Mottice began, “the luck of the Irish was with you, eh? Keeping this drone in hibernation during all of this commotion?” Sighing and remembering his duty, Mr. Garman reminded his friend that they were on a tight timeframe. Tingling inside with a bit of fear, Mr. Garman informed Dr. Mottice that the Hornet Queen would be back later that evening. “So,” Mr. Garman said, “we need to work quickly to get new supplies and equipment, not to mention getting the formulation complete. Let’s order breakfast. I tell you what, I am just worried sick about Marsha. I really hope that she is OK.”

The pair ordered out from the local diner in town. Both sat down at the stainless-steel table and ate their breakfast and drank their coffee in total silence. “It is time, Dr. Mottice. We should get to work.” Mr. Garman said. “ Let’s start by lining up the chemicals.” It took them over an hour to put each chemical needed at each point on the timeline. Time marched forward and so the men, laying out the plan point-by-point and inch-by-inch.

9

The Meeting of Bat Masterson

Morgan was holding on with all of his might to Wolfe. They found themselves in a saloon dating back to the early 1800’s. Marsha peered down at herself and noticed she was dressed in an 1850’s period dress. It was all black, donned with a small, black top hat. The jacket was form fitted and the skirt went to the floor covering up lace-up black boots. Most uncomfortable was the high collar white shirt that scratched her neck in all of the wrong ways. “Where are we, Morgan?” Marsha asked inquisitively. “Well,” Morgan said, “I concentrated heavily on this time and this place, Dodge City.  Low and behold, here we are.” He exclaimed, both of his hands extending out toward the crowd in the saloon. “Hey, how much green fluid is in my back end?” Marsha peered over at her friend and analyzed his back end. “Looks like ¾ full, maybe a smidgen more, give or take.”

“Well, Miss, never seen you in here before, and never seen those types of dogs. Let's start with, what is your name?” The man, although handsome, approached Marsha in a strong manner that she did not particularly care for. Turning her attention towards him, she answered his question. “My name is Marsha, what is yours?” The man continued on in a flirty voice, “Well, Miss Marsha, my name is Wyatt, Wyatt Earp.” Dropping his gaze to the floor, toward her dogs, the man began to inquire about her furry friends. “Now Miss Marsha, what kind of dog are these mutts?” Offended by his name calling, Martha snapped back, “Mr. Earp, they are not mutts, they are purebred dogs. They are Irish Wolfhounds. This is Rue and Wolfe.” The man picked up a toothpick from one of the several glass jars on the bar top. “Miss Marsha, where do you come from?” Keeping the small talk short, but interesting, she responded, “From back East, Mr. Earp. Say, is there a decent place to stay in Dodge City?” The man smiled a glimmering smile at her. “I think what you're asking, Miss Marsha, is if there is a decent and safe place to stay in Dodge City?” Marsha laughed and took his outreached hand that was intended to guide her around the saloon. As she walked with Wyatt, she glanced over at the card table and there he was - Bat Masterson. Morgan noticed at the same time she did and whispered in her ear, “Look, the cane!” Wyatt noticed she stopped, and followed her gaze to what she was looking at - Bat. “Oh, Miss Marsha, that there is Bat Masterson, ma’am. He is a card shark for sure and is also a lawman.” He paused for a moment and continued on. “Oh, Miss Marsha, watch out. He has a way with women.” Marsha rolled her eyes in disgust at Wyatt’s most recent comment. “Alright, Mr. Earp.” Wyatt and Marsha walked together to the boarding house, which was safe, clean, and comfortable. “Not only does the boarding house have all of those nice things, but the owner, well she sure is a wonderful cook.” He paused and continued on, “If you need anything, let Miss Lidia know and she will send someone for me.” Touched by his kindness and hospitality, Marsha thanked the man named Wyatt, and walked herself up the steps and into the boarding house, dreaming of her bed. Time travel is exhausting, she thought to herself. She must remember to remind Morgan that they are on a tight schedule. It is vital, for the sake of all of humanity, that they get that scepter cane in time.

Bat was still  at the card table with four other men the next night. Two saloon girls were on each side of Bat, giggling and stroking his hair while he played his cards. He sat back in his chair with his cane in one hand and a drink of sarsaparilla in the other. Finally having built up the courage from the other side of the saloon, Marsha approached Bat. Clearing her throat, she interrupted the card game. “Are you Mr. Bat Masterson?”

Looking up from his cards and analyzing the sight in front of him, he responded, “Why you are a pretty little thing. Yes, I am Bat Masterson. Who are you and who do you have with you?”

Squaring her hips off and looking directly into his eyes, she responded to Bat, “Mr. Masterson, my name is Marsha Garman and my dogs here, Rue and Wolfe. Buy me a drink at the bar, would you, Bat? May I call you Bat?”

Rising from his chair, Bat exclaimed, “Of course, Miss