Chapter 1 – Right Here in Dodge City

Matt Dillon sat behind his desk crumpling page after page and tossing it in the wastebasket. He'd been trying so hard to sum up what little he had on the rash of questionable, sometimes violent, takeovers of successful saloons throughout western Kansas and eastern Colorado that his arm was beginning to ache and he was having trouble holding his pencil. Here it was July, nearly three months since his gun arm was shot up. He thought he'd turned the corner and was making real progress at regaining full strength and flexibility, but the pain told him he was fooling himself.

Matt stood up, too frustrated to concentrate on formulating his thoughts on the investigation he'd been pursuing since his return to Dodge and work into a coherent whole. He tried to throw the pencil across the room, but it dropped from his fingers not three feet from his desk. He stormed toward the door, grabbed his hat, stuck it on his head and reached for the door handle in one semi-fluid motion with his left hand just as Festus Haggen opened it. The two men nearly collided.

"Matthew, whar's the angry bull got off to? Or is somethin' even meaner chasin' ya?"

"Sorry, Festus. I've wasted too much time trying to make sense out of those saloon takeovers. I need to get on with the rest of my job, if I still can."

The deputy stood in the doorway and watched his boss and friend stomp down the boardwalk toward the Long Branch then turned into the room to check on the coffee. The pot was cold and empty and no fire burned in the stove. He set about to remedy the situation so that even if Matt took his time returning at least some attempt would have been made at providing fresh coffee before it got too hot for anyone to want to drink it. If the marshal didn't return by the time the coffee was ready, Festus would drink a cup and join Matt and Miss Kitty at the Long Branch with hopes of a free beer or, if he was lucky, whiskey.

Had Festus watched a bit longer he would have seen Matt stride past the saloon after a brief glance over the batwing doors and make his way toward the stairs leading to Doc Adams' office door. The big man deliberately slowed his pace as he climbed those stairs, somehow dreading what the doctor might tell him. Maybe it really is time to retire he thought as he reached the landing and knocked on the door.

"Come on in Matt. It's open."

The lawman walked toward the seat the doctor indicated, but almost turned to leave before reaching it because the physician wasn't alone. A certain redheaded saloonkeeper was there with him and it was obvious they'd been in deep conversation until his knock. He might have left, had the doctor and woman not both given him one of those looks that told him he'd better not try to leave.

"You can't hide what's bothering you from your personal physician. I can see you flexing your hand and arm. I'll just have a look at how your recovery's coming along while I've got you here. Kitty might as well stay. She'll find out everything anyway."

Doc probed and prodded the offending right arm and hand while keeping a sharp eye on his friend's countenance. He pulled on his ear and ran his hand across his mustache before speaking.

"Matt, what have you been doing? You've managed to undo at least half of the progress you've made with that arm since you returned home. The good news is the recent damage isn't permanent, at least not yet. You're through working for today and depending on what I find after you partake of my prescription, maybe for one or two days more."

"Doc, I can't just leave things now. I need to sort out what I've learned about all those saloon takeovers. I'm expected to put a stop to it, but I can't unless I can figure out exactly what they're doing, who's behind it and why."

"If you don't want to lose the use of that arm for a month while I put it in a plaster cast, you'll take it easy on it for the next day or two. The government can wait that long for your report, Mr. Marshal. Now here's what you're gonna do. You'll avoid all fine movement with that arm and hand by going fishing with Kitty and catching nothing. She can take over if you get a nibble. As to getting those takeovers sorted out, talk it over with Kitty."

Matt knew when he was licked. Kitty had no problem backing up Doc. She agreed to provide breakfast in her rooms where he could eat with his left hand without anyone knowing. Meanwhile the wily old physician and Festus would gather up all they'd need. A buggy packed with fishing gear and a picnic basket would be waiting for them behind the Long Branch. If they took the back way out nobody would know that Kitty was driving and Matt's right arm was back in a sling.

Dodge City had grown so much over the years that it was impossible to find a private spot along the Arkansas. Even the pond west of town might attract too many unwanted visitors. They decided on Saw Log Creek where it bordered on the farm Will Stambridge had bought in case Kitty had said yes but on the edge that was closest to town. Stambridge hadn't sold it, so people from town tended to keep mostly away, probably from embarrassment at the way they'd treated him for daring to court the marshal's woman.

Unbeknownst to Matt and Kitty Festus had followed on his mule Ruth at a discreet distance. Once he saw the couple stop, he hightailed it back to get Doc. Leaving Newly to watch over the town, Festus and Doc drove out to their own place along the stream where they could keep out of sight of the marshal and his woman yet still keep an eye on them and get in some fishing of their own. Doc was sure Kitty would keep Matt from ignoring the prescription, but it wouldn't hurt to get in his own bit of relaxation even if it meant spending the day with Festus, which he secretly enjoyed.