In the morning Doc changed the bandage and nodded approvingly. "It's a good thing your head is so hard. You're just about back to what passes for normal for you."
"Then can I go now?"
Doc sighed. "Have some coffee first."
He passed Festus a cup and the deputy took a swig and made a face. "Golly bill, Doc, you been hoorawing me 'bout my coffee all this time and you cain't make it no better'n that?"
"What's wrong with it?"
"What's wrong with it! It's all bitter like."
"Well, put some sugar in it!" Festus spooned sugar into the cup, tasted, added some more and tried it again. He finally drank it with a martyred expression and started to get up. Doc leaned forward as the deputy sat back down heavily and rubbed his eyes. "Festus? What's wrong?"
Festus gazed blearily at the old man. "I don't know. My head just went all swimmy." He swayed and looked at the cup and his eyes widened. "Doc?" He started to fall and the old man caught him and lowered him to the floor. Festus struggled to hold onto consciousness. "Doc, you cain't do this," he whispered, clutching his friend's hand. "You cain't...Doc?..." His eyes closed and he was out.
Doc went into the bedroom and returned with a pillow. He lifted the deputy's head and pushed the pillow under it, then checked his pulse. For a long moment he lingered by his friend. Then he got to his feet and left, locking the door behind him.
