Matt and his posse took whatever horses were available in the livery stable; Doc's Popcorn, Jonas' wagon team, even Newly's horse. Thankfully there were a fresh rides for each man. As quickly as they could they saddled their new mounts and were away.
Harry Bodkin was the next to arrive at Doc's office – he stood in the doorway holding his right shoulder, where he'd been shot. Doc looked over his shoulder and left Jonas to guide the banker to the seat next to his desk, "Let me have a look, Harry," Doc said as he peeled the banker's hand away from his shoulder. Jonas watched on as he continued to hold gauze to his right forehead, which was now beginning to hurt after his adrenaline rush began to wear off.
Bodkin squirmed as Doc pulled at his shirt sleeve tearing a large enough hold to wad some gauze into the hole. Bodkin let out a yelp, "That hurts worse that the bullet, Doc!" the banker the growled.
The doctor smiled and gently patted Bodkin on the shoulder, "It's not as bad as I thought. I'll finish with Jonas before I get to you," he smiled weakly. Bodkin frowned.
The doctor turned again, this time it was Kitty Russell and Newly O'Brien at the door, "We just heard that..." Kitty's voice trailed off as she looked at Bodkin.
Doc brushed his hand across his moustache, in slight annoyance. "He'll be fine," he grunted and washed his bloodied hands before he returned to the store owner, who sat quietly watching.
"I hope Matt catches these cowards, and soon," Kitty huffed.
"He'll do his best. He always does," Doc said as he pulled Jonas' hand and gauze away from the split on the store owner's forehead. Jonas winced, "It hurts now, Doc," he stated.
"I bet it does," Doc smiled. "Good thing you have a head made of hickory," he joked causing Jonas to frown. "I heard that," the store owner grumbled.
Doc finished cleaning the wound and stepped back, "I don't think you'll need stitches, but just keep a clean cloth with you in case it starts to bleed again and come and see me," he looked the store owner in the eyes. "You'll likely have a head ache for a day or two," he added.
Jonas huffed and slid off the examination table, "Thanks Doc," he tried to smile. Doc pat him on the back as he left the doctor's office. "Hope you feel better, Harry," he said to the banker, and then pulled the door closed.
"I'd better do another round," Newly said. "We're trying to access the loss," he exclaimed. Doc nodded.
"Do you need my help, Doc?" Kitty asked as Doc cleaned up before he helped Harry Bodkin. The banker was now pale looking.
Doc should his head no, "But thanks Kitty," he smiled slightly and watched the saloon owner leave his office.
Doc assisted Bodkin to his table and began to help the man.
There was very little daylight left when Festus pulled Popcorn to a hard stop, "Matthew? Do you smell that?" he asked in a hushed voice. Matt nodded. "I bet it's them raiders," the hill man stated.
"There's one way to find out," Matt seethed. "Fan out," he ordered the men. "We'll take them from all sides," he motioned. "I want them alive, if at all possible," he stated. The men nodded and broke off in several directions to circle the camp that was just over the ridge.
"Dillon likes his town too much to come after us right now. All those poor upset people," Will Faulkner laughed. Rusland agreed, "But I wouldn't put it past him," he growled. "Just keep your eyes and ears open. We're getting out of here at first light," he said as he struck a match for his cigar as he scanned the horizon in the dying twilight.
"I like how you shoved that old coot into the shelf at the store. I've never seen such a weak-kneed slacker," Hannon laughed as he looked at Clarke Rusland, which caused the other men to join him.
Despite the current jovial mood, the men were anxious to get moving, but with no moon to travel by, it was too risky to move the wagon. They purposely kept the fire small.
Carefully the posse approached the camp. Matt quietly walked toward the group of men with his shotgun levelled, "Hold it right here!" he bellowed as Rusland's men jumped to their feet. "Drop your guns," the marshal ordered.
"How are you going to make us?" Samuel Baker laughed at Matt as he looked around and only saw darkness.
The rest of the posse made themselves known. "That should convince you," Matt replied.
Rusland looked at this men and each one shook their heads no – they weren't willing to give up without a fight. With a quickly calculated move, Rusland pulled his gun and fired at Matt while diving for cover under the wagon. All hell broke loose as guns were fired from all directions, bullets ricocheting off rocks, wood splinters from the wagon, men running and diving or falling dead. What seemed like an eternity as everyone fought for their lives, there was suddenly silent as four of Rusland's men ran out of ammunition and lifted their hands; surrendering. Three others raiders lay dead, with one of the men from Buckner.
The remaining posse moved in. Sheriff Fuller limped forward, having caught a bullet in his left leg. Matt holstered his gun and held his left forearm. The marshal's eyes scanned the camp, "Two are missing," he spoke firmly having done a quick head-count at the beginning of the ruckus. "We need to find them," he said looking around.
Festus looked over to where their horses were tied to a tree, "We'll take their horses that way they can't follow us to try and free this mangy lot," he said as he matched past the four men, who still held their hand in the air to gather the horses. Matt ordered the sheriff and his other men to shackle the prisoners. "We'll pick up the others tomorrow," the marshal added.
Matt tied his horse to the back of the wagon. "Let's get back to Dodge," he grunted as he pulled himself up to the buckboard's seat. With a flick of the reigns, he turned the wagon back to town. The rest of the men mounted their horses and followed the wagon.
Clarke Rusland and Jess Buck watched on from the hill, "God dammit!" Rusland cursed under his breath, pounding his fist into the ground.
"We have to get them," Buck stated as he referred to the four now prisoners. "If they talk, we'll hang," he snarled.
"Don't you think I know that?" Rusland said as he stood brushing the dust off and watching the posse drive the wagon, horses and men away. "Let's see what bullets they have left," he swatted Buck across the upper arm. The two men slowly walked down toward the camp. The small fire was still going, casting enough light for the men to look at their dead – Will Faulkner, Tom Baker and frank Hannon. Again Rusland cursed, this time more audibly.
Buck and Rusland removed what ammunition from the dead men. "This won't get us too far," Buck grumbled as he held a handful of bullets.
"It's better than nothing," Rusland snapped as he shoved what he found into his vest pocket. "And until I can come up with a better idea, they will have to do," he growled as he turned toward Dodge.