it was the day after the fourth of july, and brother, it was hot as hell.
it was so hot in the barber shop that wyatt earp took his copy of the carson city gazette out on to the front porch, where he would have to listen to jack slade and roy bean gassing, but might at last get a bit of breeze from the mountains.
roy was asleep in his chair, but jack was palavering with - mostly to - chingachook, who seemed to be paying him no nevermind, the way he had.
there was nobody else on the porch, and wyatt took one of the three remaining chairs, without speaking to the bad man or the indian.
but jack immediately started in on him.
ain’t seen no strangers lately, jack opined, in the matter of fact way he sometimes affected.
might be one coming along now, now that you mentioned it,
how so? how do you figure?
just the way it always is. you say something ain’t going to happen, then it happens, sure as shooting.
why is that, do you think?
because things always happen. that is what things do.
you do not say so.
i just said so. wyatt turned the page of the carson city gazette.
look here sheriff, how about a friendly wager?
on what?
on whether a stranger comes to town.
a stranger will come to town sooner or later.
i mean in the next two days, if a stranger comes to town in the next two days, i will give you a brand new shiny silver dollar.
that you came by honestly.
how else would i come by it?
and if no stranger shows up?
you let me shoot fish in the river for a whole day - sunup to sundown.
wyatt thought about it, and turned another page of the gazette.
make it three days, and you have yourself a friendly wager.
done. shall we shake on it?
no need. i will take your word.
i am most gratified.
and stop riding on that poor indian.
come on sheriff, i thought we was friends, it is hot, i have to pass the time somehow.
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