Cowboys And Angels

Chapter 12

John walked upstairs into the hotel building where a Professor Harold MacDougal currently stayed, he was a harmless man but he was simple-minded despite having studied at Yale University and studying the simple-minded savages. However, this wasn't John's business and he did his best to just stay out of it, he was not the most intelligent man but he wasn't a racist man. He had been on both ends of the totem pole in his life, there were times when he was on top of the world and was treated like royalty, and there were times where he was treated like dirt beneath someone's feet. So he made it a point not to make anyone feel the way he did. Walking inside to the hotel room, the Professor had basically made into a studio apartment.

"Incredible. Simply incredible." The professor said with excitement as he looked through a microscope.

"Hello, Professor." John greeted, closing the door behind him.

"Hello, sir! Mr. Marston, sir. Good day, good day. How are you?" Professor MacDougal chirped.

"Well, my family's health and wellbeing are being threatened by some unscrupulous government agents and my own hard-won freedom is under duress, but these problems aside, I suppose I'm fair." John scoffed, shrugging his shoulders.

When the professor began getting in his face though, John's face slightly scrunched up. He didn't particularly care for people getting in his personal space, finally taking a step back.

"Yes, the problems of civilizing nomads. Tell me, sir, are you from Norse stock?" He suddenly asked.

"Not as far as I know. I was raised in an orphanage. My father was Scottish." John replied unevenly.

"Unfortunate. You'd make an interesting case for my theory of natural population characteristics." MacDougal replied, walking to his desk and looking through his microscope, that was a funny looking thing.

"Really?" John asked with a level of disinterest.

"Why yes, a white man obviously, but, but, but with a savage spirit. Trust me, sir, I mean savage in the best possible sense. Natural nobility, but also simple. Pure. I've been looking at some blood samples through my microscope and you know what?" MacDougal asked, not looking up.

"No." John said simply.

"Ah, well, of course, you don't. It's a remarkable breakthrough. I've been looking at the blood of both natives and white men of corresponding height, weight, and age and you know what?"

"Again, no."

"They're exactly the same! It's remarkable. It completely refutes my last book, but I'll tell you what, sir, this sabbatical in the field may have been somewhat forced upon me by circumstance, but my scholarship has benefitted enormously! Would you, like to partake of a syringe of cocaine? I've quite enough for two." MacDougal offered.

"Not right this minute, no." John replied.

"It's a remarkable drug. It entirely restores the ego. Takes one back to a primal state. Helps my thinking enormously. Oh, Nastas! Come on. Come in, sir!" MacDougal exclaimed as the native American man walked through the doorway, but John nearly got secondhand embarrassment as the professor started speaking slowly and moronically, if ignorance had a face, this would be it. "Would you like to take off your slippers? Or skin a rabbit? I know we cannot see the stars, but still, my heart is pure, and we meet as equals!" He says, enunciating each word stupidly. "These savages must be spoken to simply in metaphors." He said in sideways to John.