Home is Where the Heart Is
Chapter 10
Matt thought about it all night. He knew that Kitty had urged him to be patient, but enough was enough. He had torn the advertisement from the journal several weeks ago, and ever since had kept it jammed in his vest pocket. He took it out now, and looked at it for the hundredth time before making up his mind. It was still early in the morning, but he made his way along the board-walk to the telegraph office. He knew the clerk would be there already, and pushed the door open, which made the small bell attached to it ring.
"Good morning, Marshal." The man's eyes looked up briefly from his work, but his fingers continued to tap out a message on the key. "I'll be with you in a minute."
Matt took one of the green forms from the counter, and wrote his message. It would be short and simple, something Doc could not help but read. He fiddled with the pencil for a while then wrote seven simple words. He handed it to the clerk. "Send this to Doctor Adams at this address." He handed him the now crumpled clipping. "Just sign it Matt."
He dropped some coins on the clerk's desk, and, not feeling like answering a lot of questions, left as suddenly as he had arrived.
By the time Charlie got around to sending the message, he had forgotten Dillon's request, and signed it Matt Dillon United States Marshal - just as he usually did. He thought the whole thing a little strange, but life as a telegraph operator often didn't make a lot of sense. Too many short disconnected messages. He never knew what was going on. He only ever got half - or maybe less - of the story.
ooo000ooo
Adams took the short walk from the boarding house to his office. His mind was on the young woman and her husband he had met yesterday. He knew his colleagues would avoid having anything to do with such people, but Adams couldn't help that. He knew what he had to do.
He had four or five patients waiting to be seen that morning. None of them had anything seriously wrong with them, but they all had the ability to pay. After the last patient had left he began to gather supplies that he would need to tend Petrov. He had just about stuffed the last of the bandages into his medical bag when the woman who served as a receptionist and nurse knocked on the door and entered.
"Dr. Adams, a telegram came for you."
She seemed to want to hang around to find what was going on, but he shooed her from the room saying it was probably nothing important - just a few words from a friend maybe. Once he was alone again he turned the envelope over in his hands. He had some kind of premonition about where it had come from. He removed the faded green paper and read the message.
It was from Dodge City, Kansas, and was signed Matt Dillon, United States Marshal, The message was short and simple.
"It's time for you to come home."
Adams couldn't agree more, but he had come out here for a reason, and that hadn't changed. He crumpled the telegram and threw it onto his desk in frustration as he left the room. He needed to hurry to Telegraph Hill and meet with Tara-Lee. Petrov needed his attention. He had no time to think about Dodge City now.
Telegraph Hill seemed strangely quiet as he stepped down from the carriage he had taken from the surgery. With black bag in hand he walked to the bench from where he could sit and look out across the bay. He hadn't been there long when she appeared as if out of nowhere.
"We have to be careful," she half whispered, "I think they are on to me."
Doc had never been afraid of anyone. He had no concept of the culture in Chinatown, and the things that went on there.
"Who are 'they'?" he asked
"The people who bring the opium here. Petrov stole from them, and they do not forget."
Still, Adams was not too impressed. "Let's get going, I have some medicine for him in here," he indicated his bag.
Carefully she led him through the same narrow dirty streets of Chinatown, stopping at almost every corner to see if they were being followed. Eventually they came to the ramshackle building he remembered from his previous visit. She ushered him inside, and they picked their way through the bodies lying on the floor of the opium den to get to the decrepit stairway. She put a hand on his arm and stopped to listen. He could hear loud voices coming from the street but they were speaking Chinese and he couldn't understand.
"They are coming this way, we must hurry!" Her voice and her eyes showed that she was terrified.
Adams climbed the derelict stairway as fast as was possible while trying to miss the more rotten or absent boards.
Tara-Lee unlocked the wooden door and let them in to the hidden room. The man lay where Adams had left him the evening before. He still looked fevered and pale.
Tara-Lee went to the window, which consisted of broken glass covered by a piece of sack cloth. She clenched her hands to the sill as she saw them coming along the street outside.
"We have no time, they will kill us all," she moaned as she ran to the cot where Petrov lay. She grabbed his hand and looked lovingly at him.
Adams decided it was time for him to take charge.
"You hide," he told her, "I'll deal with this."
He really didn't take her fears all that seriously. After all this was San Francisco, a civilized city, not a wild lawless town like Dodge.
She hesitated. "You go and hide," he repeated.
The men from outside were in front of the building next door now. They seemed uncertain as to Tara- Lee's exact hiding place. They hadn't entered the room downstairs yet, but they were still blocking the only exit. The three of them were trapped.
"There is nowhere to hide in here," she cried in desperation. Adams looked around the almost bare room and had to agree with her. He opened the door a little and could still hear the men outside. He beckoned to her. "Come here and hide yourself under the stairway."
She had no time to think, and obediently slipped out through the door. There were enough gaps in the stairs that she could easily find a place to conceal her slight body if she was careful.
Adams went back to check on Petrov. He had hardly started to remove the temporary dressings he had applied the evening before, when he heard loud voices and hurried stomping footsteps in the den below. A short while later he heard them negotiating the derelict stairway, then, all of a sudden, the door to the small room burst open, and five men poured in. They were dressed in western city clothes, but their faces were Chinese. One of them stepped forward.
"Who are you?" he waved a gun at Adams.
"My name's Doctor Adams." Doc's voice was calm and matter of fact. "I'm here to treat this man." He stood up from the chair he had placed near the cot.
"He doesn't need your medicine."
Doc looked the man straight in the eyes.
"I think my judgement is better than yours on that subject."
The man smiled, it was more of a sneer than a smile. He moved closer to Doc and tried to intimidate him.
"Step out of the way now. The man is coming with us."
Doc had no qualms in moving to place himself between the Chinese man and his patient.
"He shouldn't be moved," he declared in a firm voice.
The Chinese man pushed him out of the way, and signaled to his men to drag Petrov from his cot. Then he stopped and looked around the room.
"Where is the girl?" He directed the question to Doc, again waving a gun in his direction.
Doc heard groans from Petrov as the group of men hauled him roughly towards the door.
"What girl?" Doc asked.
The man looked at him for a moment then slapped him across the face.
"Bring him along too," he ordered his men.
Before Doc could do anything about it he was hauled from the room and pushed roughly down the stairs. He almost fell at the last step. He hoped the distraction would prevent Tara-Lee from being found.
TBC