Chapter 7

Joe Cartwright was trading stories with his friends at the Bucket of Blood, when he saw Cain walk up to the bar. Joe fingered his gun as he walked toward the man. "What are you doin' here, Cain?" Joe spoke quietly. Even though he was prepared for the worst, he did not want to make a scene.

Cain looked squarely at him, worry etched on his face. "The Sheriff has been injured...The doctor has sent me to seek ice."

At that moment, the bartender returned. "Tell Doc Martin I'm sorry. It looks like the heat wave has claimed the last of our ice."

Cain bowed and murmured a quick "thank you," then headed for the door.

Joe was on his heels. "Look, I'll get my Pa and brothers together. We'll find Clem and catch those men." Joe began to walk toward the hotel.

Cain walked purposefully toward the doctor's house. He stopped when he heard the click of a gun. "Hold it right there, Cain." It was the Deputy. "Now you're gonna head straight back to the jail with me."

Cain looked at Clem with urgency. "First, I must tell the doctor that there is no ice."

Before Clem had a chance to say anything, Joe spoke up. "It's true, Clem. He was just in the Saloon asking for ice. He told me Roy's hurt."

Clem eyed the man with suspicion, and escorted him to Doc Martin's at gunpoint. When they arrived, and Clem saw Roy, he shoved his pistol in its holster and rushed to his side. "Is he going to be okay, Doc?"

"Just a minute, first thing's first...Ice?" Paul said. He looked at the Chinaman, who shook his head sadly. "I was afraid of that." He turned his attention to Clem. "He's been pistol-whipped. I think he'll be all right, as long as there's not much swelling. But with no ice..." He turned to Roy and drenched his head with water from a wet rag.

Clem collected himself and turned to Cain. "I better be getting you back to the jail." Before they had a chance to leave, the Cartwrights came in.

After receiving the report on Roy, Hoss reported, "They's two of 'em helped that man escaped. I just barely made out tracks of three horses right next to the jail."

Clem sighed. "There's bound to be more than that. That man was a member of Fletcher's gang. I've heard there's anywhere from 8 to 15 men in it."

"Clem." Roy's voice was weak, filled with pain. He turned. "Cain...saw them...take him...with you..."

"But Sheriff-"

"Clem." Roy was truly suffering. "Take him."

Clem stared at his boots a minute. "Yes sir."


The small Posse worked its way out of town, combining fresh horse droppings with guesswork to determine their course. Fortunately, there was a full moon, and therefore, they had some visibility in the night. After an hour's ride, the Posse stopped.

"There it is," Clem said. "Looks like they joined up with the rest of the gang."

"Look here, Clem," Ben said. "It looks like they split up again."

"Well, I reckon we're gonna have to split up to find 'em," Hoss observed.

"I reckon so, but if anybody finds anything, you gotta send word to the other team before trying to apprehend 'em. Cain here'll have to identify them before we can make arrests. Adam, you and your brothers head that way, and Ben, Cain and I will head this way."

The men set out again.