The Gambler

Chapter 4

The men rode hard for the next two days. By changing horses frequently they managed to ride about ten hours a day until they could make camp close to the Beaver River on the third evening.

They were just inside the Oklahoma Territory when they camped. This was a lawless, pretty much untamed area. The plan was that Matt would ride into one of the few small settlements there and start asking around for Sanchez and his followers. Hopefully the word would get back to the outlaw and he would come looking for the marshal.

Matt knew he was playing a dangerous game, that essentially he was the bait for the trap. Strangely enough that fact didn't worry him at all. Truth was he didn't care if he ever returned to Dodge or not. His two traveling companions came into town later. They had removed their Marshals badges and showed no sign of recognizing Dillon. The spare horses had been left in a grove about ten miles out of town. They may wander off, but it wouldn't really matter much now.

Matt got himself a room at the only hotel in town. It was a rundown place, not very clean and the bed was harder than the prairie floor to sleep on.

Almost a week went by, Matt walked around the small town with his Marshal's badge on display and visited every bar, telling anyone who would listen that he was here to get rid of the renegades, especially Sanchez. Of course most people had heard of Matt Dillon and his reputation already. He told them he knew he could outdraw the man, that he was much faster than Sanchez would ever be. It was a dangerous game, but what did it matter? What did anything matter? He had no direction any more.

Meantime the other two lawmen kept a watchful eye. They were waiting for Sanchez to ride into town to take down the big marshal who was bragging that he was faster than the outlaw.

Doc was right. Matt's mind was not always where it should be. That sixth sense that had saved his life so often was just not alert to the danger around the next bend or in the next alleyway.

This town, if you could call it that, was not much of a place. A few wooden buildings, most of the town's businesses – including several of the many bars, were still run out of tents. There was no law to speak of, and most of the inhabitants were running from something. Murderers, bandits, cattle rustlers, all could be found in this part of the territory. Matt recognized many faces from the wanted posters back in his office in Dodge. The long arm of the law did not reach this far, and most of the outlaws felt that it was just as safe for them as crossing the border into Mexico.

This morning Dodge City's Marshal was walking along what passed for a main street in this town. No stage lines stopped in this place, there was no telegraph or freight office, and no sidewalks to keep citizens up off of the churned up, dirt street where piles of garbage mixed with horse manure. Sometimes a breeze would pass through and clear the air of the pervading stench of overflowing cesspools for a while, but it didn't last for long.

He was planning to get some breakfast at the only place with halfway tolerable food. Not that he was hungry but he was trying to put on a good act. He was passing one of the old, tattered tents when four men jumped him. He managed to fight off the first two but the third hit him over the head with a rifle butt, it was pretty much over after that. They bound and gagged him and loaded him into a wagon and headed out of town. The whole thing took only minutes.

The Marshal's traveling companions watched the wagon leave town. They did not want to interfere in the fight. They were here to trap an outlaw and had already lost two men doing it. This was a chance to locate the renegades' hideout. They had to bide their time, it may be their only chance to track them down.

When Matt came to, he was tied to a bed in an old shack. His head hurt, but other than that and a few bruises he felt all right. It was dark outside. He must have been unconscious for some time. The ropes were tight and he worked at them for a while but failed to loosen them any. Eventually he gave up and closed his eyes. The throbbing in his head persisted.

He must have slept for several hours. He awoke because a jug of water was thrown in his face.

He opened his eyes to see a rough looking cowboy standing there. The man was unshaven and had probably not seen a bathtub in many months. His clothes were torn and he had a half smoked, unlit cigar hanging from his lips. He is holding a gun.

"So you're the big Marshal, you don't look so tough to me. I got a gun on you here, and I'm quite happy to use it. I'm goin' to cut you loose, and then we're going to walk out that door and mount up. I have two friends out there just in case you get any ideas. Mr. Sanchez wants to see you, he wants you alive, but he doesn't mind if you get roughed up a bit."

The man removes a knife from his boot using his left hand. Roughly he cuts the ropes restraining Dillon. "Now get up slowly and don't try anything." He steps back a little so the Marshal cannot reach him. Matt slowly untangles the ropes and manages to stand up. His head spins and he falls back,

"I told you not to try anything Mister."

On his second attempt he manages to stand and walks ahead of the outlaw through the door. There are indeed two other men waiting outside. The man with the gun indicates one of the horses. Looks like they had been to the trouble of bringing his big buckskin from the livery in town.

"Now mount up and no tricks unless you want another lump on your head."

Matt manages to do as the man says, his vision is a little blurred and he still feels dizzy, but somehow he gets on the horse and stays there.

Meantime the other two lawmen are following, but at a distance. They are both good trackers and their trail skills are certainly above average, but the outlaws are cunning and have several men posted around the shack where Dillon spent the night. They are situated so that anyone riding in would be seen long before they got anywhere close. As the renegades set off the next morning they post men way behind them on the trail. There is no way for the two federal lawmen to get near. They just have to be content to stay a mile or more behind and follow the tracks as best they can. The last thing they want to do is loose the Dodge City lawman. This is the closest to locating Sanchez they have ever come.

The evening stage was a little late pulling in to Dodge. The heat had been bad that day and Jim, the driver, had not pushed the horses too hard. He jumped down from the box and opened the coach door to let the passengers exit into the stagnant air. There were four passengers that evening. He only knew one of them. Miss Kitty had joined the stage at a relay station east of Dodge. He helped her to step down onto the boardwalk.

"I bet you're glad to be home Miss Kitty. I'm sorry the trip took a little longer than planned." She gives him a half smile as she looks around. It has been almost two months since she last saw these dusty streets. Instead of heading towards the Long Branch, she crosses the street and goes over to the Dodge House. There are not many people around, she is grateful for that but can't help looking along the street to the brick building that houses the Jail and the Marshal's office.

The clerk is not sure why Miss Kitty would be needing a room at the hotel, after all she has her own set of rooms over at the Long Branch, but he says nothing and hands over the key to room twelve.

Kitty is looking out the window, which faces on to Front Street. Her eyes are a little misty as she thinks of the eight years she has spent in this town. It is painful to think of all the times, good and bad, that had taken place here.

She looks up and down the street but doesn't see the tall figure with the distinctive walk and the metal badge, strange, he is usually around at this time of evening. Then her eyes find someone she has never seen before, a younger man, not as tall. He has a similar star on his chest and is coming from that brick building across the street and heading for Delmonico's. There is another man with him, a man she certainly recognized. That stiff right leg was unmistakable. Still no sign of the tall man she was looking for. Maybe that was a good thing. She was here for business, but signing the papers that would end her ownership of the Long Branch would be a hard thing to do. Sure she would get a good price for it, but it was not easy to give up something she had worked so hard for, and had been so proud of. She began to think that maybe she had been a little hasty in making her decision. She had known what Matt was like from the start. Known that she could never compete with that badge. She had never meant to give her heart to him, but it had happened non-the-less. She should have expected the broken dates, the weeks he was gone out of town, not to mention the numerous times she had felt that horrible dread as he would face down a killer or two right there on Front Street. She had accepted it for years – and then this last time it was like everything boiled over. To late to change it now. She knew that if she had stayed here it would be the same thing over and over again. Nothing would change.

There was one person she had to go see. The crusty old physician had been so much more than a friend since her first day in Dodge. Having changed out of the dust-ridden clothes she had travelled in, she put on a lighter dress, more suitable for the hot summer evening, and then headed along to Doc's office. Several people greeted her as she walked along the boardwalk, "'evening Miss Kitty," … "nice to see you back Miss Kitty," and so on. She could hear the familiar sound of the piano coming from the saloon she owned. Business seemed to be flourishing. She was so tempted to pass through the swing doors and say hello to all her regulars. She was sure that Sam would be there, pulling beer and keeping order at the bar in his customary soft manner. She hesitated for a minute, unsure if the decision she had already accepted was the right one to make. Her pensive mood was broken by sounds of a fight coming from the Texas Trail – not that unusual. Matt was there breaking up fights at least three or four times a week. The Marshal would probably be seen pacing up the street in that direction any minute. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again. She watched as the fight burst out on to the street, any minute now and he would be there. But that was not what happened. The young man she had seen earlier from her window appeared, broke up the fight and had people move along. He was quiet, efficient and people called him Deputy Ross. No sign of Marshal Dillon. What had happened? Had Matt finally got himself some help? Probably he was sitting at the jail with his long legs propped up on that old desk of his.

She continues on her way to the steps that lead up to Doc's office. Of course her dear friend is delighted to see her. She throws her arms around him and is unable to hold back a tear or two.

"Doc it's so good to see you."

"You too Kitty, when did you get in."

"I came on the evening stage. I see nothing much has changed around town."

"You've only been gone for a few weeks, what did you expect?"

She didn't want to ask the inevitable question, and the Doctor surely didn't want to have to tell her of the circumstances of Matt's departure.

"I hear you are planning to sell the Long Branch Kitty."

'That had been my plan, I just don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Walking along Front Street just now seemed so much like I was home. Everyone greeting me, they were all thinking that I was back to stay. I am so confused. Doc I need to talk to Matt. I didn't see him on the street. Has he got himself a new Deputy? About time they approved one for this territory."
It is silent for a few seconds.

"Here Kitty," Doc pulls another chair up to his desk, "sit down a minute, I need to talk to you."

"What is it, Matt's all right isn't he, I mean nothing bad has happened?"

Adams could see the panic rising in her face. For that same moment Kitty had the horrible feeling that Matt had been shot down by some gunman, probably right there on Front Street. Her stomach started to well up, till she thought she would be physically sick.

"No, no," said the Doctor hurriedly, "as far as I know he's fine."
He proceeds to tell her of the three federal men coming to town and Matt leaving to go help them catch a killer.

"Why him? There are other Marshals they could send. "It's not even in his territory."

"They needed him because of his reputation, they thought he was the only one who could draw this renegade out."

"You mean he is being used as bait," she screams. "And he went along with that."

The Doctor just nods.

"Its my fault isn't it Doc? He didn't care what happened to him. If I'd have been here he might…"

"Kitty, don't even think that for a minute. You know how Matt is better than anyone. He does what he thinks is right, and no one can change his mind. If you were here or not it would have made no difference."

She nods and gets a small white handkerchief from her purse to dab her eyes.

"Come on now, Matt can take care of himself." He wished he felt as confident as his words. His friend's state of mind when he had left Dodge was not what was needed when heading into a dangerous situation.

"Let me take you to supper, I'm sure half of Dodge wants to welcome you home."

She nods her head and as the physician puts on his jacket and collects his hat, she tries to compose herself once more before heading out to Delmomico's.