[ WP ] `` He ai n't no gunslinger : they call him the Spellslinger . ''

`` He ai n't no gunslinger, Ike. They call him the Spellslinger,'' said Earl McCoy. 
 
 Ike Grissom squinted at Earl, hands in the pockets of his long black duster. He spat a long line of tobacco juice into the dust and snorted. `` Well,'' he said, `` Ai n't no man or beast I ever saw could whoop ol' Samuel Colt. Magician or no, he ai n't gon na be a problem for us. We'll own that town.'' 
 
 He looked around at the rest of the outlaws standing with them at the riverbank, and spoke in a loud, confident voice. `` You hear that boys? Mount up!'' The men, who had been trading nervous glances, took confidence from Ike's words. They began climbing onto their horses. Ike did the same and the whole group began riding into town. 
 
 They rode in past the new courthouse and into the middle of town square. It was high noon, the appointed hour. Grissom had demanded they bring this wizard of theirs, their sheriff if they wanted to, and their best posse of lawmen. He did n't care. 
 
 They were standing in the middle of main street. Ike and his men dismounted, and Ike spoke to the amassed crowd peeking out from windows and from around the edges of building. `` Now listen here,'' he proclaimed. `` You all know that I am running for mayor,'' he grinned his toothy grin, `` and I aim to be elected. You all know why there's an election on too,'' he smiled, glancing over at Bill Walters, the undertaker. `` We gon na keep havin' elections until it turns out my way,'' he said. `` You can count on that.'' 
 
 `` No, we wo n't, Ike.'' The voice came from somewhere in the posse standing in the middle of the street. The lawman and mayor all looking behind them and began stepping aside to clear a path between Ike and the speaker. 
 
 There, in the middle of the street, stood an old man in a weatherbeaten brown coat. He had wild, insane looking eyes and white hair that stuck out from under his hack in crazy directions. He did n't move from the spot where he was standing. 
 
 Ike grinned, whipped his coat back and drew his Navy Colt. He pointed it theatrically at the sky, and then began lowering it at the geezer. `` A wizard,'' he snorted. `` Never expected it to be some crazy-eyed old codger.'' He was drawing a bead on him now. 
 
 The old man stepped to one side, revealing a silver ball on a tall column behind him. He stepped back. `` Do n't make me do it, Ike...'' he said, a tone of severe warning in his voice. `` I ca n't control it, and the way your men are standing, I'd take out at least a dozen.'' 
 
 Ike heard scrabbling behind him and turned to see his boys clearing the street. `` Get back here you idiots!'' he yelled. `` It's smoke and mirrors!'' But his voice quavered just a little. 
 
 He turned back around and the old man brought his hand close to the silver ball. It was emitting a weird mechanical humming and clicking noise. Tiny white sparks began to fly between the ball and the old man's fingers, like he had captured the power of lightning in his hands. Then he touched the ball itself. 
 
 His hair, which was wild before, began to stand completely on end. He pointed his finger at Ike. `` Last chance to get out of town, Grissom.'' He eyes narrowed, and he began uttering some sort of incantation. 
 
 Grissom growled and holstered his pistol, mounted his horse, and took off down the street. This town was a one horse berg anyway; he'd go down the road a piece and find someplace else. 
 
 As Grissom rode off into the sunset, the old man watched and waited. When he was convinced he was gone and would n't be looking back, he slumped to his knees and heaved a huge sigh. The townsfolk gathered around him, the mayor putting an arm around his shoulders. `` Doc, that was fantastic!'' 
 
 He smiled. `` Do n't thank me,'' he said. `` Thank Van de Graaff.'' 
 
 `` Vandy who?'' 
 
 `` Nevermind,'' he said. `` I'm headed to the saloon.'' 
 
 The bartender, who was quite familiar with his order, said, `` Milk's on the house today, Doc.''
