Miss Grimshaw watched Dr. Koch like a hawk. So much so, that Hosea had to shoo her away because the last thing they needed was the Doctor catching on they didn't trust him.

They had kept a tight shift all through the night keeping watch over him. All under the guise they were terrified for Arthurs well being. Because sometimes the best con is the truth.

Hosea was just about to relieve Tilly from watching over Arthur when he saw Charles reading a thick book by the campfire.

"Morning Charles" he greeted. His old joints cracking as he sat down.

"Morning Hosea," Came the in a monotone response, not all that much of a departure from his usual tone of voice but Hosea figured it had more to do with how captivated he was in his choice of reading material, whatever that was. The book was laid out flat on his lap. An uncomfortable and impractical reading position, unless you were hiding something, that is.

"What ya got their Charles?" He inquired lazily.

Charles looked around before tipping the book so Charles could see the cover. 'Tuberculosis: A search for a cure by Robert Koch.'

Hosea smiled fondly. Charles had certainly done his homework. "Where did you get that?"

"Had to order it from the general store when I first found out. I got this and a Strand magazine."

"What is a strand magazine?"

"It's a magazine from England, or Scotland, someplace in Europe. This particular issue has a very informative article about, well... about something." he finished coyly and turned a page.

Hosea hummed noncommittally as he warmed his hands, trying to stave off the mornings chill. "You have always been a good friend to Arthur." Hosea began softly, half to himself. "I want you to know it is appreciated. All that you do and all that you have done for him." Hosea smiled wistfully looking down at his palms. "Arthur always made sure to tell people they were appreciated. Don't know who he picked that habit up from. It certainly wasn't me or Dutch."

"I think you're being too hard on your self." Charles consoled. "Arthur well, he may not be what others consider to be a good man but he is certainly a better man than most. He just doesn't know it."

"Are you saying he picked up that habit from us?" he challenged good-naturedly.

Charles just huffed out his nose but remained quiet, attention going back to his book.

"Good morning Gentleman." Dutch greeted. "Hosea, Charles." he nodded to them in turn. Dr. Koch would like to give Arthur a dose of Tuberculin before we go to Valintine. I was wondering if either-"

Dutch didn't need to finish the sentence before Charles was tugging a blanket over his book and on his way over to Arthur's tent.

Hosea and Dutch both raising an eyebrow.

When they entered the tent Dr. Koch was standing with his arms up in the air. Drawing a solution out of a vial above his head. He pushed the plunger back before flicking the syringe, then very carefully, drawing it back to extract whatever amount the doctor felt was necessary.

He looked well practiced. His motions, fluid and familiar. A dance he had performed countless times.

"Are ve all here?" He asked. His German accent thicker now with morning fatigue.

"Yes." Dutch nodded.

Dr Koch leaned over Arthur, momentarily obstructing everyone's view. He pulled out Arthurs' arm. Then swiftly stuck the short needle into the fleshy part of his forearm.

"And it's done" he said. "Now I should let you know, for when we are gone. He may thrash around. Perspire and shout. All this is perfectly normal, I assure you. It is a side-effect of the Tibirutlin. It means it's working."

"Alright," Dutch said, a twinge of nervousness seeped into his voice by accident. "We should probably head out."

The doctor nodded and began strutting towards the horses. Dutch on the other hand stayed where he was. Eyes glued to the slow rise of Arthurs' chest. Slowly his feet began to move, to carry him forward towards Arthur. His hand rested against Arthurs' cheek like he was a child. His thumb lightly brushing, feather light touches that Arthur probably wouldn't feel even if he was awake.

"My boy," he whispered. And Charles had to look away from the tender moment. "Please be here when I get back. Don't give up. Keep fighting son." Dutch gulped. "You are stronger than this. If anyone can beat this, you can... I... I have faith in you Arthur." His voice was raw but remained unbroken.

He turned to Hosea. The two outlaws simply exchanged a look. No need for words. Hosea would watch over Arthur and Dutch would get whatever the doctor needed to cure him.

Hosea took Tilly's seat after Dutch left.

"Well, Mr. Smith. What does your book say we do now?"

"We wait."

"For how long?"

"20 minutes or so?"

"Then what?"

"He will perspire and shake as the doctor said. A peculiar lump will form at the injection site. It will turn red."

"The book said all that."

"No, the strand article did."

They sat in pregnant silence after that. Waiting for the horrible side effect of the cure. Minutes passed and... nothing. He lay unchanged.

Hosea checked his watch time and time again.

"It's been 25 minutes, does this mean it isn't working?" He asked worriedly.

Charles focus that had been on Arthurs breathing was brought back to Hosea. "How long?" he asked, tense with unknown energy.

"25 minutes," Hosea confirmed checking his pocket watch again.

Charles lept up and pulled out Arthurs' arm. His fingers brushed along the skin of his forearm, the area at the injection site.

"There's no bump," He said whispering.

"What does that mean?" Hosea asked, his fear mounting.

Charles looked at him, eyes bright and wide with shock. "The strand article I was telling you about. It said Tuberculin shouldn't be used as a cure. But for confirmation."

"Charles, I haven't read all that you have. For god sakes, speak plainly!"

"It's negative." He smiled. "The tuberculin test is negative. Arthur does not have TB."