Chapter 1

On April 9th, 1865, the way it once was vanished, and a new United States of America began. Telegraph lines across the country were abuzz and clogged up by the news everyone had been waiting to hear.

Every operator from coast to coast sat patiently by their receivers waiting for the next dash- dot message that would confirm what the first message had already revealed. Then it came over the wire:

"Lee Surrenders to Grant,
The Civil War is OVER!"

"Coward!" Frank Bradley screamed when he heard the news. "We'll never surrender to those Blue Belly Bastards!"

Frank Bradley was the oldest and meanest of his four brothers. They were known to be the most depraved, violent, and cruel killers of the now dysfunctional "Bloody Bill Anderson" Civil War guerilla gang.

For months after the Civil War ended, citizens of the Union states rejoiced over the end of a war that had ravaged the country.

Not all citizens were so enamored. Splinter groups from the once notorious "Quantrill's Raiders" and "Bloody Bill Anderson's Bushwhackers" turned their focus from using the Civil War as an excuse for their evil, to becoming acknowledged outright bandits, train robbers and killers of anyone who stood in their path.

In the fall of that year, after one such raid near Sedilia, Missouri, the Bradley Gang known for its ruthless and psychotic murders of innocent people, headed south to their winter home in Confederate occupied Texas.

Using the Shawnee Trail as their fastest route south through Missouri, Bradley's Gang plundered farms just West of DR Don's farm taking scalps as was now their custom. They needed money and supplies as they traveled south to Baxter Springs. 'Buying' anything such as vitals was just not a word that came to their minds.

Although miles separated neighboring farms from each other, the county residents knew each other well. On the morning following the raids, the homesteaders congregated at DR Don's farm. As it happens their arrival conveniently coincided with DR Don's regular gatherings that offered spiritual and medicinal exchanges of information, not to mention DR Don's bi-monthly uncorking of his "Original Throat Medicine." A DR Don Drink to die for, (so to speak).

Folks were scared and the topic of conversation for this get-together centered on the raiders who had pushed through the area. While no one was hurt physically, most were showing severe signs of a new and devastating phobia of a traumatic physiological disorder.

While the raiders traveled well west of DR Don's farm, the fear the Raiders spread throughout the counties they passed through to get south, was a bitter pill to swallow.
The raiders attack on local farmers just happened to be a far better excuse to meet with DR Don than whatever spiritual or medical condition they had contacted since the last gathering. That condition could now be used another time.

Everyone knew DR Don or at least knew of him. His reputation for healing advice was renowned in the area. There was never any question of his credentials as the letters D R were the initials of this given name, and everyone who could read, and even those who could not, knew the letters DR stood for "Doctor".

DR Don being a pleasantly kind, benevolent, and courteous man would never try to correct anyone on their inability to differentiate between the letters DR and Dr. The first being the initials of Don's given names and the latter a short form for doctor.

"If my family, friends and patients wanted to call me Doctor Don as a nick name, so be it." He told everyone. From that point on, whenever he was summoned, everyone called him DR. Don. AKA Doctor Don.
The letters DR seemed to be associated with other members of DR Don's family. DR Don's sister Rita was married to a DR by the name of David Ross, and DR Don's baby brother Ronnie was well known as the Drilling Rig king of the state, and he used the DR to represent his Drilling Rig business.

DR Don was a handsome man in a rugged outdoors looking way. He stood about 5 foot 10 and weighed in at around 180 muscled pounds. He wore his sandy brown hair long with a touch of gray at the temples and usually covered by a black Stetson cowboy hat. He wore blue jeans and cowboy boots as did everyone else. The exception was his bib shirt.
DR Dons wife Lucile, as one would expect, was a head turner as well. A good-looking couple most would say. In addition to being a good-looking gal, she was a robust farm hand and cook extraordinaire, she was a skillful seamstress and one of the best in the State of Missouri as many would swear.

Lucile made DR Dons bib shirts. These shirts were not just bib shirts, they were a work of art fit for a king. While she could have earned a good deal of money sewing and selling shirts to others, she sewed for herself and her husband only and to the chagrin of the locals who couldn't buy a shirt near the quality Lucile put into her work. She took it upon herself to dress herself well and ensure her husband did also.

A small sign at the road where a lane led to DR Don's farm was lettered DR, but the rest of the name had faded out and was never replaced because it wasn't necessary. The sign was a beacon of hope and attracted many visitors looking for medical advice. It was DR Don's nature that nary a soul would ever be turned away from his door. Sometimes it was just a hot meal and a warm place to sleep on a cold night, but not often.

There wasn't another Doctor within 50 miles, so a sick man, like a beggar, couldn't be choosy. Moreover, since the results DR Don achieved were usually very successful and his wife Lucile's cooking was to die for, some people speculated DR Don's cures were in part due to his and Lucile's hospitality.

At that time, schooling was a weak subject. Rumors had it that DR Don's education came from a good dose of common sense and his theory that" If you don't try it, you don't know it don't work," and who could argue with that logic.

More often than not, DR Don provided answers to a multitude of medical conditions and Lucile did the Doctoring should that be needed. She'd pull out a thorn, stitch a wound here and there, or even pull a tooth if absolutely necessary. But all procedures required a few glasses of DR Don's Original Throat Medicine which provided enough anesthetic to kill the pain that always accompanied their ailments.
Between the two of them and although they were unschooled in medicine, nonetheless, they worked miracles for most they treated.

DR Don always said," Any illness of man or beast could be cured, if only in attitude, with a couple of glasses of my 'Original Throat Medicine.' It gave you a spring in your step, although not every step was followed by the next in a straight line.

For five counties wide, they said the old nursery rhyme of the "Cow jumping over the moon" was a written testament of the properties of DR Don's Original Throat Medicine. After a few glasses, it made you feel like you could jump over the moon.

Once again DR Don never boasted that his brew had any medicinal properties what-so-ever. However, over time, its healing ability, be it actual or a figment of the patient's imagination, was known from Kansas City to Joplin, and maybe even farther. Hundreds of DR Don's patients swore to its ability to cure everything that was ever written in any medical journal.

"Who am I to call a man a liar if his ailment is relieved by my 'Original Throat Medicine'," he often said.

Once every other month right when DR Don's brew had fermented to his exact stage of drinkability, the county road that passed his farm became significantly more congested than usual. People came from near and far to have their ailments talked out and hopefully cured by the good Doctor and then attended to by Lucile.

Since horses had a good memory of the way back to their own corral, their owners often woke up at home the next morning being a tad unsure of how they got there, but glad to be there non the less. In some cases, their loyal horse stood idly by the water trough still saddled or fully harnessed to the wagon it pulled. Its head was bowed low to avoid the searing stares of a lonely wife standing on the porch of the farmhouse with hands pressed tightly into her hips.

There wasn't a lot done on that farm that day. You could, however, hear a woman yelling about a drunken bum of a husband. At the same time a man could be heard, trying in vain, to convince a woman that the sickness that had befallen him the day before was now completely cured, (except for a day of rest prescribed by DR Don, who claimed "(Even God took a day off to rest."

At the same time Lucile was a world class sewer. She made all DR Don's bib shirts that were lauded by folks near and far. So, by the end of the day, especially around brewing time, men sometimes brought their wives and girlfriends to learn a thing or two about proper sewing while they subjected themselves to a glass or five of DR Don's Original Throat medicine.

Some folks brought guitars, some fiddles, and occasionally someone played a mouth organ while others just slapped their knees in rhythm with the songs being sung. Laughter rattled leaves on the trees and music was everywhere.

"It's all for the sake of my brother Ronnie's cattle. They just rest better when we get to singing," DR Don would say.


Chapter 2

DR. Don's family got together for their traditional Sunday meal, just as their mama used to do years before. On Sunday December 31st, 1865, (New Year's Eve as such) and after the family had eaten, DR Don said to his family, "Where the cattle goes the money flows."
"What do you mean by that", DR Don's sister Rita asked.

"Lucile and I have been doing some studying and some talking. We've come up with an idea that could make us rich, maybe even richer than brother Ronnie," DR Don said. He smiled at his brother Ronnie and winked at Dave and Rita.

"We see the coming year of1866 to be a landmark opportunity for us," Lucile said.
DR Don continued, "When the war began in '61' most every eligible male took up their cause and formed Town and County army regiments to go to war. It was thought the war would be over in a month or so and they could get back to their normal lives.

"That turned out to be a foolish idea," Rita said.

"That it was," DR Don said, and the others nodded their heads in agreement.
As it happened, a few years back, the state of Missouri and Kansas passed a law to restrict Texas cattle from coming up the Shawnee Trail to the closest rail head in Kansas City or Sedalia. Local farmers said Texas cattle carried a disease called Texas fever.
Although the Texas cattle were not affected, local cattle were dying off after the Texas cattle passed by.
The federal government went so far as to appoint a special Marshall to ensure the law was upheld. The new Marshall is a schooled veterinarian from Kearney, Missouri, and has complete authority to inspect the drive and turn back any herd he feels are infected."
"How does that affect us," Dave asked.

"It means the money we made from previous cattle drives will be slowed if not halted altogether. However, that doesn't mean the appetite for beef from Chicago to the East Coast will change. The drovers will have to go further west to get a trail north to the rail head."

"That means they'll be running straight through the middle of Indian Territory," Ronnie said.


"That is right," DR Don said." It also means that the herds will have to be much larger to justify the additional travel. The 500 head drive is a thing of the past, and herds, 3000 to 5000 head will become normal. Texas cattle sell for 4 dollars a head south of Waco and that's if you can get anyone to buy them. Texans don't eat much beef. But in Abilene, they're selling for $40-$50. a head, and more than that in the goldfields of Colorado."

"That sounds pretty impressive," Dave said.

"We plan on heading south to Waco, Texas, or thereabouts, and pick up a big cattle drive headed north to Abilene and on to the Colorado Goldfields."

"Does that mean you're going to trade what you're making here for monthly wages on a cattle drive?" Dave asked.

"No, not hardly," DR Don said. "I have a plan."

"And what might that be," Ronnie asked.

"I've invented a new style of chuck wagon and Lucile has new cooking utensils more suited for a trail drive. They all go with it."

"Why don't you explain that to us," Ronnie said.

"The wagon I've designed is four feet longer than the traditional chuck wagon. The extra length allows more storage for a larger selection of cooking ingredients. It also has a fold down rear flap for preparing grub. The new utensils for baking will put a soft warm biscuit on a Cowboys plate rather than a hard, burnt, and cold biscuit made of flour and water."
"What about your business here"? Rita asked."

"After those raiders passed through a spell ago, they didn't leave much for a man to work with. It's like having to start all over again." Lucile said.

"We were hoping that you and Dave would drop by now and again to take a look at things." DR Don said.

"We don't know anything about Doctoring", she said.

"You won't have to; I'll be leaving a few months' supply of DR Don's Original Throat Medicine for my regular customers. The money you get paid can act as payment for the time you spend here, if that's agreeable to you two." DR Don said.

"Sounds fine to me," Rita said.

"Me too," Dave added. "When do you plan on leaving?"

Lucile sitting at the table not saying much jumped in and added, "We're ready to go now but probably first thing tomorrow morning. Are you sure you can't see your way clear to come along with us," Lucile asked?

"We've got a lot of young family here that need our help from time to time. We'd like to be with you on this adventure but things being what they are we'd be abandoning those who need us most." Rita said. Her head was bowed to conceal the tears she shed at the thought of losing her older brother."

"That's an honorable thing you two are doing, and we love you for it. Should you ever change your mind; the offer is always open to you", DR Don said, and Lucile did as well.


Chapter 3

DR. Don and Lucile prepared for their departure on January 1st, 1866.

Each had a wagon with a team of four good horses and a couple of extra horses that tagged along behind just in case they were needed. A pair of milking cows followed Lucile's wagon and gave her the luxury of milk rather than water in her biscuits and gravy. Lucile's wagon was filled with cooking supplies. The words "Lucile's Kitchen" was painted on both sides of the canvas top and again on the back flap-down preparation table of her wagon.

DR Don's wagon was filled with ingredients required for brewing "DR Don's Original Throat Medicine." The brew logo was also added to the canvas cover and the rear wagon flap-down.

They chose to use the road everyone used when traveling south to Joplin, Missouri. They'd then head West and use the next main wagon trail headed to Baxter Springs. The Shawnee Trail would then take them south to their Waco, Texas, destination.

Traveling at this time of year was not ideal since Missouri winters could be severe and unpredictable. At the same time, if you wanted to find a cattle herd moving North, you'd have to be available months before the drive started.

The trip south was slow due to the freezing cold. Fortunately, snow that was traditional for that time of year held off and the trip was uneventful non-the-less. The unattended road south was rough and well-worn down from Civil War troop traffic. They reached Baxter Springs three weeks after leaving their homestead in Missouri.

Just before sun set, DR Don and Lucile pulled their wagons up to "Harry's Livery" for a night in the notorious cattle town of Baxter Springs.

A young man came out of the stable and said, "My name is Reuben Alcott, but everyone calls me Rube. How can I help you?"

"These horses have been on the trail for some three weeks now and need a good rub down, fresh feed and water," DR Don said.

"That's our specialty here. We'll treat em like family."

"Will our wagons be safe here overnight?" DR Don asked Rube.

"I'm here all the time so I'll keep a keen watch out for you," Rube said.

"We'll be staying overnight at that place across the street. The sign says, "Rooms Available'."

"Ya, that's Crazy Harry's Saloon and he is the same fella that owns this here livery."
"Is that so," DR Don said. "We'll be leaving at first light tomorrow so have the teams harnessed and ready to go."

"They'll be ready," Rube said.

DR Don and Lucile walked across the street a ways to Crazy Harry's Saloon. They walked through the bat-wing doors and DR Don went over to the bar.

"We're looking for a nice clean room for the night and a bath," DR Don said to the bartender.

"The name's Patrick Brown. They call me Patty. I have a nice room upstairs. It used to be the owner's suite, but he bought a house and we rent it out to travelers. I'm sure you'll like it, and I can arrange to have water drawn and heated if you decide to have a bath."
"That sounds exactly what we're looking for," DR Don said and paid the man. "By the way, where would we get a good meal?"

"The only place nearby is old Alice's just down the street. She has a sign on the door that says 'STEW". It isn't much, but it's all we have close by. That is unless you want to go down into the district", said Patty the bartender.

"I think we'll pass on that idea, and we'll try Alice's Stew that is nearby," DR Don said.
"That's a good choice," Patty admitted.

After getting settled in the room above Crazy Harry's Saloon, DR Don and Lucile walked down the street to a small place with the sign "STEW" nailed to the door. The lettering reminded one of a school child learning to print.

DR Don and Lucile opened the door and walked inside. There was a half dozen empty tables with unmatched chairs scattered around with no resemblance of order. They chose a table close to the door and scanned the interior.

The floor hadn't been swept in a day or so and the walls were smoke stained a dirty brown. Lanterns wire handles were nailed to each wooden beam holding up the tarnished ceiling that had once been painted a color now undeterminable.

DR Don and Lucile were about to leave the place when an old grey-haired woman appeared wearing a near white apron with finger marks from food smudged across the front.

"Thought I heard somebody come in," said an old woman with a friendly smile. She walked from a lighted doorway at the back of the room.

"What's your specialty of the day," DR Don asked.

"We only have stew and a biscuit," the old woman said. She bent over and swiped a bit of spilled food from the table of a previous patron.

"Well, I guess that'll have to do. We'll have two and a couple of cups of coffee," DR Don said.

The old woman came back a few minutes later holding two bowls of a steaming concoction and a large biscuit parked on the edge of each bowl. The bottom of the biscuit was submerged and absorbing the greasy gravy. With the thumb of each hand submerged in the stew bowl the old lady sat the dish down in front of her customers and licked the gravy from her thumbs before wiping them on her apron of an undisclosed color and hadn't been washed in quite some time.

"You folks must be new here. Never seen you before," the old woman said. "They call me Alice, I run this place."

"You got us right there. They call me DR Don, and this here is my wife, Lucile. We're from Missouri headed south to the Waco area."

"Howdy," Alice said. She turned and headed back to the lighted doorway that she came from.

Since they were obviously not going to be steady customers, Alice saw no point in continuing the conversation.

DR Don took a bite of stew and looked at Lucile out of the corner of his eye. Hunger overtook their first instinct of walking back to their room in the Saloon unfed.
"Tastes a bit strange for beef stew," DR Don said to Lucile.

"It's all in the way it's prepared," Lucile said with a smile and broke off a piece of biscuit she tossed into the gravy and sunk it with her spoon.

After they were finished eating, they reluctantly paid Alice and headed back to their room above Crazy Harry's Saloon.

DR Don said, "I think I'll go down to the Saloon and pick up any gossip we might use for our trip."

"Don't you get to drinking," Lucile warned.

"Never crossed my mind," DR Don said as he opened the bedroom door and headed downstairs to the main floor of the Saloon. He touched his wallet with his right hand to ensure it was there if needed.


Chapter 4

DR. Don ordered beer from the bartender and leaned up against an elaborately carved bar surface and put his left boot on the copper rail placed on the floor for that exact purpose.
Looking around he was impressed with his surroundings. The decor offered an air of respectability which was unusual for a saloon in such a riotous cattle town like Baxter Springs and whose reputation well preceded them.

He took a sip from his glass of beer and scrunched his nose at the stale taste. He never said a word about it. He sauntered over to where four men were sitting at a round table playing cards.

As the cards were being shuffled, he said," They call me DR Don from Missouri, mind if I join you?

"We're just playing small stakes friendly poker, nothing big," the man to DR Don's right said.

"That's just the type of game I was looking for," DR Don said.

"Then sit down and join us", the man sitting to DR Don's right, said. "Let me introduce you to these boys. My names Harry Levine. They call me Crazy Harry and I own this place be it what it may. This here's old Tom and pointed to the man on DR Don's left. He moved his finger to the next man and said", this is here is Jesse, and moved his finger again pointing to the fourth man, and this here is Wesley Stokes.

"Harry Levine? So, you are the proprietor of this here establishment," DR Don said?

"Sure am," Crazy Harry said. "Won the place a couple of years ago in a card game just like this." He turned and pointed to the man at the bar and said, "That there's Patty Brown, he runs the place for me. I also own the Livery across the street. Wouldn't like to buy this place, would you?"

"Na, me, and my wife Lucile are just passing through heading South towards Waco. We're looking to hook up with a drive headed north up to the Colorado Goldfields. Stopped here to rest a day or so."

"Lucile? Not many drovers want a woman on the trail with them boys. It might get a bit distracting," Crazy Harry said.

"Once you get a taste of what Lucile can cook it'll be hard to keep them boys away from the chuck wagon all right; but just to eat," DR Don said.

"She's that good a cook aye," Wesley said and smiled.

"Let's just say that she baked a pie for my uncle Roger up in Kansas City, and twenty years later, he's still bragging on her about that pie," DR Don said.

"We sure could use a decent place to eat around here," Crazy Harry said. "I'm sure getting tired of old Alice's raccoon stew. This would be a good place for you to open up an eatery."
"When you say the raccoon stew, you are meaning beef?" DR Don asked. "I thought we were eating beef stew."

"I've never known her to have beef anywhere near her place," Crazy Harry said.

"Alice never said it was beef stew. Lucile and I just assumed it was beef when she said the stew was all she offered."

"Looks like she got you there", Wesley said.

The men at the table laughed about the new guy being tricked by Alice.

After a few seconds when the laughter died down, DR Don said, "Sounds like you're trying to get rid of this place."

"Would sure be a load off my mind, "Crazy Harry said. "I'm just too old to try and run two businesses. This is more for a young fella like yourself."

"It's a little out of the question for me and Lucile right now." DR Don said. "Let's get the game a going."


Chapter 5

As the evening wore on, card hands were won and lost repeatedly. Near the end of the night, Crazy Harry dealt DR Don a pair of Kings and a pair of tens with the six of spades as the fifth card.

What a hand DR Don thought to himself. Two pair. Kings over tens. He bet ten dollars. Old Tom didn't look impressed, but he called the ten dollars and fanned his cards, then folded them closed, thought for a moment, smiled and said, "I might just raise the bet another ten dollars.

The players mumbled to each other. Old Tom didn't usually raise a bet which suggested he had a good hand.

There were more murmurs from the other players as each man called the raiser and added ten dollars each to the pot to give them a chance to see the draw cards.

DR Don was first and asked for one card. Crazy Harry dealt him one card down DR Don didn't look at his draw card right away and slipped it between the other cards he had in his hand, then laid all five face down on the table in front of him.


"I'll bet another ten dollars." DR Don wanted to see the expressions on the other player faces hoping he could determine if they liked their draw or not.

Old Tom took one card, which suggested he also had two pair or perhaps he was drawing for a straight or flush. He picked up his draw card slid it into his hand and peeked at what he'd been given. He slammed his cards face down on the table.

"I'll be a skunk's ass. I can't get a draw to save my old soul. I'm out," he said.

The rest of the table players smiled since they had one less player to contend with.
Jesse asked for three cards. He peaked at his draw cards, one at a time.

"Damn the luck", he said and tossed his cards into the slush.

Wesley also asked for three cards and fitted them into the two cards he was holding. He peeked at his hand and fanned them open one card at a time just as Old Tom had done.

"I'll call," Wesley said weakly.

Crazy Harry the dealer looked at the card he had given himself in the draw. He fit the card together with the four cards he had in his hand. He gently spread one card at a time. A smile registered momentarily on his face and returned as the stone-faced mask he wore when he had a good hand.

"The price of the game is going up," he yelled. "I'll raise it to make it an even five hundred dollars all around".

"But you don't have five hundred dollars on the table", Wesley shouted. "I thought this was supposed to be a friendly, not high-stakes poker."

"As far as a friendly game goes, we're still friends but with poker it's always a dog-eat-dog game." Crazy Harry said and continued. "That's true, I don't have that much money on the table, but I do have the Bill of Sale for Crazy Harry's Saloon to cover my bet. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out some papers and waved them at the players at the table.

"Do you mean you're putting Crazy Harry's on the line to cover your bet," DR Don asked? "Or... is this just an irrational bet made to bluff us out?"

DR Don rationalized that with a one card draw Crazy Harry could have two pair or perhaps a straight or maybe a flush. Darn he thought, to himself. He could also have a full house.

"That's exactly what I'm doing youngster," Crazy Harry replied. "I have a weak hand with no way to win unless I bluff you out by such a large bet. That is of course if I'm bluffing?"

DR Don felt disappointment flood his body. I can't risk everything on two pair. He paused and then realized with all the commotion; he had forgotten to look at his draw card.

He removed the coin from the top of his hand, picked it up and fanned his cards open one at a time like the others had. He saw his two Kings, then came a ten, which was one of the other tens he had held going in. He fanned the fourth card to see his other ten and closed his eyes. He fanned the fifth card and opened one eye.

It was another ten. He now held a full house ten over Kings. He tried to conceal the shock of seeing his full house. He folded the cards and laid them down in front of him and placed a coin on top to indicate he was pondering his next move. His heart pounded in his chest, and he was sure the others at the table could hear it.

"I'm the same as you," he said to Crazy Harry in a nervous voice. "I don't have enough money on the table to cover your raise, but I'm sure my two wagons, horses and contents are more than enough to cover your bet."

"Are you making a bet, or just flapping your gums," Crazy Harry said. His smile had turned to a sneer. This was a traditional poker move to get a rise out of the competition and perhaps have DR Don reveal his true position. He also had to be concerned with Wesley's hand since he had made the original bet.

DR Don had never been in a card game where the stakes were so high, and he'd never had a poker hand this good at any time in his life. If he lost, it meant losing everything except the clothes on his back not to mention that Lucile would kill him for sure.
He picked up his cards letting the coin weight slip off and settle on the table. DR Don looked at the cards in his hand again and perspiration appeared on his forehead and the palms of his hands were clammy.

As DR Don was thinking things over Wesley the next to bet peeked at his draw cards. Wesley's face went pale, and he threw his hand in the slush out of turn. This reduced the game to DR Don and Crazy Harry but at the same time improving DR Don's odds by having one less player to contend with.

"It's up to you cowboy, and times a wasting," Crazy Harry said. His smile was now beaming from ear to ear.

"It just not in me to fold when I have such a good hand and I think you are trying to buy this hand by bluffing me," DR Don said.

"There's only one way to find out youngster. Either you have the guts, or you don't. And if I'm reading you right you don't have the guts", Crazy Harry said.

Crazy Harry had made several condescending barbed remarks at DR Don throughout the night. This was the third time he leveled his taunt at DR Don this hand. Crazy Harry had talked down to DR Don for the last time. There wouldn't be a next time.

"Okay, you asked for it, I call," DR Don said.

As DR Don laid down three tens, Crazy Harry went wild jumping out of his chair and slapped down five spades. He screamed," I've done it again. My flush beats your three tens."

"Just a minute. Not so fast," DR Don said. "You didn't give me a chance to finish." He laid down his pair of Kings beside his three tens. "That gives me a full- house tens over Kings. "And..." DR Don said for emphasis, "If I'm not mistaken a full house beats a flush every day of the week 'Youngster' DR Don goaded in retaliation.

Crazy Harry's eyes grew as large as dinner plates and his mouth fell open in complete disbelief and shock. The room had gone dead silent. The expression on everyone's faces at the table also pictured disbelief. They couldn't believe their eyes.

"This is the single best and biggest hand I've ever seen played since Crazy Harry won the Saloon two years ago," Wesley said.

DR Don looked to his right at Crazy Harry. He still wore his poker face and his manners completely calm. However, the bile in his stomach rose up his throat and he was sure he was going to puke on the card table. He swallowed hard.

The Saloon patrons watching from a reasonable distance from the card table went into utter chaos. Wesley stood up and put his arm around DR Don's shoulders. "I've played a lot of poker in my day, and you are the calmest player I've ever had the pleasure of sitting at a table with." Wesley said. "Just don't stand there pick the pot up. It's all yours.

DR Don looked at Crazy Harry again and then bent over to sweep the pot to his place at the card table.

When Crazy Harry had regained his composure he said, "Thank the good Lord for small mercies. I've waited two long years trying to get a chance to unload this place. It's been like an anvil tied around my neck, but good luck to you sir." Crazy Harry stood and shook DR Don's hand and gave him the signed "Bill of Sale."

For the first time since he walked through the bat-wing doors of Crazy Harry's Saloon. DR Don took a better look at his surroundings.

A hand carved bar edge ran half the length of the building and a brass rail held patrons' boots who might stand there. Spittoons dotted the floor along the brass rail. Behind the bar and across the back wall were three shelves holding bottles of whiskey and glasses to drink it from. Nothing too elaborate, but mostly clean and tidy. His gaze continued around the Saloon. There were several tables, with chairs scattered around the main floor area. Only two were occupied.
A Faro table had two players and a Saloon girl who was the banker. Even the excitement of the Faro game came to a crashing halt when Crazy Harry screamed about his winning hand.

A blackjack table with no players and another Saloon girl as dealer was located beside the Faro table. Both tables were attached by a yellow-colored rope that ran from the wall to the left of the Faro dealer joining the two tables and then ending back at the wall to the right of the Blackjack dealer. The rope was designed to keep customers from getting behind the dealers.

Several wagon wheels with five kerosene Lamps on each were suspended over the room to provide lighting when it was necessary. Hemp rope passed through the hole where the wagon axle was usually located. The other end of the rope went over a roof beam and then tied to an attachment nailed to the wall. The rope was used to raise and lower the lamps for easy lighting and extinguishing. Other lamps hung from nails on the pillars holding the roof timbers.

Overall, this was a pretty nifty spot DR Don thought to himself.
DR Don ordered a round of drinks for the house and the people who were crowded around gave up another hoop with cheers that rattled the lamps lighting the Saloon.


Chapter 6

Lucile was angry. She lay in bed with her eyes open and couldn't sleep with all the noise coming from the Saloon below her room. Listening to the commotion from the Saloon below she knew something big had happened.

If DR Don had lost their cash money playing cards, she would never forgive him. With no cash it meant they would be lucky to get back home to Missouri. Then they'd have to start all over again. Nothing good ever comes from Saloon gambling.

Lucile had enough. She bounced out of bed, put a blanket around her shoulders and stomped down the stairs that landed in the far corner of the Saloon.

She sashayed towards the men at the bar smiling and nodding at each one as she passed. She faced DR Don with a manufactured smile still on her lips, but flames of fire shot from her eyes as she confronted him. DR Don stumbled toward her.

"Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to my loving wife Lucile, the new co-owner of this here establishment."

"You're drunk," Lucile shouted at DR Don. She just knew they were in trouble. How much was still to be determined.

Wesley walked up to Lucile with a village idiot type smile, grabbed her by both arms and introduced himself.

"Evening mam, my name is Wesley Stokes and I'd like to congratulate you on becoming the new co-owner of Crazy Harry's Saloon."

"What are you talking about," Lucile said in a skeptical tone of voice.

"It was the greatest hand of cards I'd ever seen played," Wesley said "Your DR Don was so smooth and calm Crazy Harry never knew what was coming. "Three tens," he said and laid down his cards.

That's when crazy Harry jumped up screaming and showed his flush in spades. He was screaming and yelling in a victorious way. That's when DR Don said coolly and I quote said," You didn't give me the chance to finish. My three tens are paired with two Kings, and if I'm not mistaken, a full house beats a flush."

The Saloon burst into another round of screaming and yelling and patting DR Don on the back. He bent over to get away from the friendly attack of his newly found friends.

Lucile's mouth dropped open in surprise at the enormity of what she just heard and as the wonder of it all registered in her mind. She stepped forward to DR Don hugging him fiercely. "I never doubted you for a minute", Lucile said and then bit her tongue hard.

The rejoicing went on all night but not as a rebuke to Crazy Harry but more to reinforce DR Don's saying. "Drinks are on the house!"

Chapter 7

The following morning came early for DR Don and Lucile, and before the sun peaked through the dusty windows of the Saloon. They hadn't slept the night before celebrating their unbelievable good luck. Several customers lay in various drunken positions on the floor, on tables and some on chairs with their heads bent back exposing a snoring and bobbing Adam's Apple.

DR Don and Lucile had a lot to do.
The couple realized their good fortune and the trip to Waco would-be put-on hold till they could assess their newfound asset. Owning a Saloon seemed to be a far better way to make a living than riding a chuck wagon on a rough old cow trail.
They decided to have two signs made for the exterior of their newly acquired building. One sign would read,

"DR Don's Saloon"
"Home of the Original Throat Medicine."

The second sign on the left side of the building and facing the main street would read.

"Lucile's Kitchen"
"Just Like Ma Used to Make."

The extra cash DR Don won at the poker game would be used to build a kitchen and dining room with all the most up to date accessories.

DR Don ordered all the ingredients for his Original Throat Medicine and for his Mountain Man Moon Shine he named a "Shooter".

The locals had no idea what a treat they were in for.

The ingredients of DR Don's Original Throat Medicine and Shooter was a secret known only to him. He deliberately changed the formula for regular beer and added something that nearly doubled the alcohol content and gave his beer an extra kick.

It would take about a month before the first batch was drinkable and DR Don was very sensitive to what the locals would think about their first taste of his Original Throat Medicine.

One glass of DR Don's original throat medicine was slightly more potent than two shots of diluted whiskey served by other saloons in Baxter Springs. At the same time, the aftertaste of whatever the other Saloon bartenders diluted whiskey with was gone. The price was the same. Once DR Don's Original Throat Medicines, reputation for great taste got around, the bar portion of DR Don's Saloon would be flooded.

In addition to his "Original Throat Medicine," he distilled a large amount of pure Mountain Man Moon Shine. He used the Moon Shine as a kicker with the beer and he called it a Shooter. Take a glass of beer and drop a shot glass of Mountain Man Moon Shine into the beer shot glass and all. Know-one had ever tasted the likes.

Lucile, not to be outdone, had a breakfast menu of a bottomless plate of sausage gravy and biscuits and good coffee. Pot roast with mashed potatoes, gravy and fresh bread filled out the entree part of the menu. Hot apple pie was for dessert.

It would take time to complete the restoration: probably a month or so to get all the supplies they needed and to finish the work. The anticipation of a restaurant with eatable food was evident from the inquiries they received about their opening date from town folks.

DR Don set out immediately to brew a batch of his Original Throat Medicine from the inventory he had brought with them from Missouri. During the brewing stage he put together his still and started the process of full proof Mountain Man Moon Shine.
It was destined to be an immediate hit with Saloon patrons.

All they needed now was the word to get out to the Cowboys, who brought the drives to Baxter Springs and the cash to spend there.

On Sunday April 1st, 1866, Lucile's Kitchen opened for business after church and before DR Don's Saloon opened its' doors. The Saloon was closed from sunrise Sunday morning to 3PM Sunday afternoon to allow families to dine without the boisterous noises of an operating Saloon business.

Chapter 8

On Sunday morning after church, Lucile's Kitchen was packed to overflowing. A line had formed outside waiting for seating.

Four cowboys still drunk from the night before pushed through the crowd and forcibly removed a family from the table where they were sitting, by grabbing the checkered tablecloth and yanking it from the table. The crash of dishes breaking and uneaten food spilling to the floor was enough to have the little family exit Lucile's Kitchen on the run.
"We want something to eat, now!" screamed one of the cowboys. He pulled his pistol from its holster and fired two shots into the ceiling of the restaurant. This action prompted the other three men to draw their guns and fire several shots as well.

The dining area cleared in chaos with people trying to get out of the room before they were potentially shot.

Lucile and DR Don's living quarters was above the Saloon and the bullets fired to the ceiling came through the floorboards of the bedroom with two bullets tearing through the mattress where DR Don was sleeping.

Mattress stuffing puffed up from the explosions and filled the area in a blanket of goose feathers. DR Don jumped out of bed after the first shot came through the floor and grabbed his shot gun that was leaning against the wall beside the bed.

Still dressed in his long johns he bolted through the bedroom door and ran down the stairs two steps two at a time.

Gun powder smoke drifted through the French doors and short hallway that separated the Saloon from the dining area.

DR Don burst through the French doors just as the cowboys were whooping it up and re-holstering their side arms.

Thunder roared through the room from a shotgun blast and DR Don absentmindedly checked his shot gun since he hadn't pulled the trigger yet. His eyes flashed to his right as he saw movement and blue gun powder smoke coming from that direction.
The cowboys jumped to their feet. Their hands shot up towards the ceiling where a large hole appeared where there was none a second before.

"We're the Bradley brothers," one cowboy said with contempt. When they saw not one but two shot guns pointed in their direction there was not another word spoken.
They could see the fire that danced in the eyes of a woman holding a shotgun with smoke leaking out one barrel. She had flour covering her hands and a whisk of flour smeared her cheek as one would expect from someone who was baking pies in the kitchen a moment ago.

"Don't shoot, don't shoot!" one of the cowboys screamed in terror. All four were now stone cold sober from the reality that they might soon be dead.

"We were just having a little fun," one said just as DR Don smashed him in the face with the butt of his shotgun. Broken teeth and blood spewed from the man's mouth and nose as he flew off his chair and crashed to the dining room floor unconscious.

Lucile rushed to the table at the same time and pointed her shotgun in the general direction of the three men standing there
.
A dark spot formed and spread on the front of one man's grey confederate pants and the liquid must have drained into his boots since there wasn't a wet spot on the floor.
"Ya don't have to kill us," one cowboy stuttered.

At that instant another cowboy barged through the main door. Seeing his brothers standing beside a table with their hands in the air and one lying on the blood-soaked floor, he instinctively drew his side arm.
That was the last instinct he would ever have that day.

Lucile sensing the threat pulled the second trigger on her double-barreled shotgun.
Once more the shotgun blast poured blue smoke from the end of the barrel with an explosive noise deafening those in the enclosed room.

The cowboy had turned slightly to his right as he went for his gun and was the main and only reason, he would live to see another day. Lucile's shot from point blank range with her rock salt load had little distance to expand and hit the cowboy mostly in his left arm and chest.

The force of the load broke his left arm and blew him off his feet back through the door he had just so recently entered. He landed unconscious on the wooden walkway outdoors that was still packed with stunned onlookers.

He screamed in pain as the cloth of his shirt was ripped from his body and plunged into the hole the rock salt had made. The skin that should have been there disappeared from the wound area exposing his raw flesh like a skinned rabbit carcass. The salt portion of the load embedded in his raw flesh caused him to pass out in pain.

Sheriff J.W. Sterling flew through the door the cowboy had just exited. He held his own version of a shotgun tucked in a firing position tight to his hip ready to fire if needed.
"What in tarnation is going on DR Don," the sheriff yelled at his friend. He instinctively scanned the room for any other potential threat.

"Morning J.W." Lucile said coolly. Her face was still flour smeared and red with anger. It didn't match her calm demeanor. Her shot gun trailed a wisp of smoke from the second barrel.

"Put your guns down on the table," J.W. yelled. His own gun pointed menacingly at the couple.

Both Lucile and DR Don did as J.W. instructed and happy to have the sheriff take control of the situation.

"What happened here?"

"We're the Bradley Brothers," Jake Bradley the second oldest said with a sneer. The Bradley's started to lower their hands with the sound of their own name.

"I wasn't talking to you," JW yelled. "Keep those hands in the air."

This got the Bradley's attention, and they shot their hands high again.

"These ruffians here," DR Don said pointing at the cowboys, "Came a strutting through the door without a good morning, sir or howdy-do mam."

DR. Don continued, "Then they started throwing our seated customers out on the street and fired several shots into my ceiling," Lucile said and pointed to the bullet holes above her.

"And I was sleeping overhead when bullets came blasting through the floorboards blowing holes in my mattress tearing it apart and darn near killing me," DR Don added.
The sheriff turned slightly to his right focusing on the grubby young men standing with their hands in the air. They reached as high as they could, their faces as white as the flour still visible on Lucile's cheek.

"We were just funning," It was the only thing one boy could stammer in reply.
"Ease yourself out of your gun belts and let them fall to the floor," J.W. demanded.
The cowboys gingerly unbuckled their holsters and let them drop to the floor as the sheriff demanded and urged by the sight of his shotgun pointed at them.

"Lock your fingers together and place your hands on your head," Sheriff Sterling directed.

"Yes, sir mister Sheriff sir," the cowboys said together enthusiastically now seeing that Lucile and DR Don were without their shotguns and the possibility of their living through the next few minutes was clear.

"Grab your friend and carry him with us," Sheriff Sterling shouted.

"There's only three of us and we'll need help if our brother who is lying outside needs help."

"Let me get the 'napping cart' "DR Don said.

"Napping cart?" one boy asked in confusion.

"Ya, a napping cart. It's like a flat-bed wheelbarrow. We use it to move sleeping customers from the Saloon when we want to close, and they can't leave without help."

DR Don turned towards the saloons French doors and headed out to get the napping cart. The left side of the trap door of his long johns hadn't been buttoned and hung partially open exposing his bare bottom.

The onlookers noticed and under other circumstance would have burst out laughing at the sight, but this was not a laughing matter.

The Sheriff gave out a litter snicker at the sight but immediately went poker faced as he considered the gravity of the moment.

When DR Don returned, he parked the "napping cart" by the cowboy still lying unconscious on the floor in a puddle of his own blood.

"Load him up and move em out" Sheriff Sterling ordered the Bradley's as if he were a trail boss starting a cattle drive. He turned back and winked at DR Don and Lucile.

The cowboys lifted their brother onto the cart with his headfirst and his feet dangling at the rear.

As they walked through the main door the other cowboy who seemed to be in charge moaned in agony.

"You two grab him and you, he pointed at another man, you can drive the 'napping cart'," The sheriff ordered. I've got everything under control now so you folks can go ahead with what you were doing.

"I want a written statement from you two later," the sheriff said over his shoulder. And let's keep the excitement down to a low roar. It is Sunday after all."

The sheriff knew this would be a recurring issue at DR Don's Saloon but had confidence that Lucile's Kitchen would be less worrisome.