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There was uproar and confusion. Everybody was paralyzed with shock. A nice young man like Joh
Old Doc Evans, Acheron's medico, coroner, and undertaker, finished his drink at the bar. Then he felt Joh
"Right through the heart," he said. "Deader'n last week's newspaper."
Pedro, the Lucky Lode's janitor, ran to get Linda. He didn't take long. The stables, over which she lived with her father, were only the throw of a horseshoe away. In two minutes she was sobbing over Joh
Skeeter hadn't said a word. He was too dazed. Even when Sheriff Douglas said, "Don't worry, son. It was a clear case of self-defense," Skeeter didn't talk. Once, he put his hand out towards Linda and then, as if knowing it would do no good, withdrew his hand.
Old Doc Evans gave a few orders. Two men picked up Joh
Everybody else stopped, too, for down the main street was a blaze of lanterns, a squeak of wheels, and the high-walled bulk of a van. It was the kind of van a snake- oil man drives around in and lives in and carries his snake oil and fever pills and tonics in. But this van had no big signs on the side or anything to tell what the owner was selling.
The van pulled up just by the two men carrying the body, and the driver looked down from his high seat.
"Had a shooting, friends?" the man said. "Did this young fellow just die? Perhaps I can do something for him."
It was a strange thing to say, and the man who said it was even stranger. He was dressed in a rusty black suit and wore a black bowler from which hair black as stove polish hung.
His face was as pale as if he'd just seen Death. He had a handsome face, though it was bony with high cheekbones and a Roman nose and deep hollow eyes and dark rings under the eyes. His neck, sticking out of his white collar, was thin as a colt's leg, and his shoulders were narrow as a cat's.
"I am Doctor Grandtoul," he said in a voice that surprised everybody because it was so deep.
"Always nice to meet another M.D. in this unpopulated territory," said old Doc Evans. He took off his Stetson and placed it over his heart. "But there ain't much you can do for Joh
Doctor Grandtoul raised a slim pale hand and pointed a slim pale finger. "Ah, my friend," he said, "that is where you are wrong."
He looked around at the crowd, which was rubbernecking as if they knew something out of the ordinary was coming and they weren't sure they were going to like it.
"Yes," said Doctor Grandtoul, "no discredit to you, my worthy Hippocratian comrade. But perhaps you have not heard of the latest scientific advancement.
"Advancement!" he repeated explosively. "No! Miracle, rather! The miracle of electricity, which is both the stuff of lightning and of life itself!"
He swung down off the seat of the van and landed on his feet as lightly as a catamount.
"Bring the late departed to the back of my van," he said, "and help me place the body on my bed. Then I'll do what I can."
He walked around to the back of the van, opened the doors, and leaped into the van like a long lean black cat. Then he took Joh
He turned to the buzzing gaping crowd, bowed, flashed white teeth, and said, "Friends, we can't leave an ugly hole in the departed's chest, can we? I think not, for he'd have trouble breathing, what with the air whistling in and out, a ghastly tune. So we'll just place this soodoplazum, a secret of the ancient Tibetan lamas, in the wounds. And, once the lightning of the revitalizing machine surges through the body, the soodoplazum will become real flesh."
There weren't many who really heard him, and those who heard didn't understand him. They were too busy staring at the big batteries that lined one side of the van. The batteries looked just like the monsters the telegraph companies used to provide electricity for their copper lines. There were many copper wires, very thin wires, that sprouted out of the main cables from the battery terminals. Doc Grandtoul took the wires, one by one, and attached them to Joh
Then he paused and said, "Would you gentlemen allow your doctor -- Evans, is it? -- to come up here? I want him to examine the late departed once more and make absolutely certain the ghost is gone."
"Ain't no need," grumbled Doc Evans, tugging at his white walrus moustache and swaying back and form because, like always, he had a snootful. But at Doc Grandtoul's insistence Doc Evans climbed into the van and felt Joh
"Wanta buy a drink if he ain't?" somebody called, and the crowd hooted with laughter because they knew how tight old Doc Evans was when it came to buying a drink for anybody except himself.
Nevertheless, not a man or woman there -- and everybody in Acheron except the kids and sick in bed was there -- didn't believe Joh
Doc Grandtoul took a hypodermic syringe from a box, wiped the needle with alcohol, and plunged it into Joh
The crowd gasped. The doctor gri
Afterwards, there were some that said those were the longest and most terrifying three minutes of their lives. Something about the scene, Joh
There wasn't a sound except the hard breathing of the men and women pressing together so they could get closer to the van for a good look.
Then -- there was one big gasp, one loud scream, and the sound of ru
But he was alone. Even old Doc Evans had bolted.
Not quite alone. Joh
Later, much later, Joh