Doc straightened up his office and checked on his sleeping patient, who was still snoring up a storm. The doctor shook his head and wondered just how much of Schermerhorn's elixir he had drank to serum to such a state.
Doc picked up the empty bottle that he earlier pulled from Dawson's grip and looked at the tablespoon or so of liquid at the bottle. Gently the doctor poured the so-called medicine into the palm of his hand and the smelled it. His nose twitched, "It smells like mint," he sputtered under his breath.
Doc looked around and then placed his palm to his lips and sucked back the dark green liquid. Immediately his shoulders went up to his ears and his lips puckered as his eyes slammed shut! He tried to relax his facial muscles enough to swallow the fluid and eventually he forced it down his throat. His eyes watered and he blinked as his whole body shook to try and clear the taste from his mouth, "Good Lord!" he gasped and then coughed.
The doctor sat the bottle down long enough to pull on his coat and hat; he now had a beef withy the reverend Schermerhorn and his "miracle medicine". Doc snatched up the bottle took a quick look over his shoulder at the sleeping man then left his office.
It was mid afternoon and Front Street was not overly busy with traffic, however, there seemed to be a steady movement of people going here and there. Even Jonas was busy as Doc walked by the general store on his way down to Schermerhorn's camp at the end of the town.
The physician was still trying to shake the taste from his mouth and wondered who on earth, let alone in Dodge would buy the product. That was until he saw a very happy Louie Pheeters making his way back up the street. Pheeters was signing to himself and doing a little soft-shoe dancing as he held one partly empty bottle of the elixir and nursed the unopened one in his ragged coat pocket.
Doc stopped in his track, "Alright. That does it," he huffed. "Schermerhorn, you have to go," he sputtered in defence of other innocent people who have likely bought into the old man's elixir trick. And Doc was going to make sure that Matt knew just where he stood on the matter.
Matt and Festus were still chatting at the edge of the camp, when Festus spotted the doctor, "Matthew. It looks like Doc's got himself a bee in his hat," he stated as ht watched Doc walking sternly toward the two law men.
"I wonder what that's about," Matt snorted.
"I guarantee we're gonna find out in about two shakes of a lamb's tail," Festus replied. Matt pursed his lips and stood next to Festus waiting to hear what the doctor seemed to be so worked up about. Surely it wasn't Dawson, for the doctor's walk would be much more sombre – something was up Doc's nose and both Matt and Festus knew it.
Doc stopped short of the two law men, "I want that charlatan out of Dodge!" the physician exploded without even a hello first.
"Now hold on there, Doc," Matt said as he tried to defuse the town doctor, "What's all of this about. You look like you are ready to tear someone's head off," Matt stated as he looked at his doctor friend.
"And if you give me half the chance, I just might!" Doc growled as he held up the empty bottle.
Matt frowned, "Doc, what are you talking about. You haven't been into that stuff, have you?" he asked sceptically.
Doc pulled the empty bottle back, No I have not!" he snorted in an indignant tone. "But that fellow up in my office has and so has Louie!" he further exclaimed.
"I don't see what all the fuss is about, Doc!" Festus chimed in.
Doc sighed and looked from Matt to the hill man and back again, "This has more alcohol content than anything that Kitty has at the Long Branch!"
Matt pursed his lips, "I see," he said as he looked at the bottle that the doctor clutched in his hand, "You want me to run Schermerhorn out of town because people are getting hooked on this stuff," he tried to clarify.
"I hope no one has gotten hooked! It's terrible tasting!" Doc sputtered.
Festus' eyebrows lifted to his hat brim, "You drank some of that, didn'tja Doc?" he asked.
Doc looked at the deputy like he had kittens crawling out his ears, "I only tasted a drop and it was awful!" he stated. "I can't imagine anyone drinking a whole bottle, but that fellow did!" Doc huffed.
Matt had to agree, "Well this isn't solving the robberies," he stated.
"Surely they are tied together," Doc replied. "They have to be…"
"I'm not ruling anything out Doc. There've been too many coincidences since Schermerhorn arrived. But I have to find some concrete proof, other than Dawson's leg. That only places him at the freight depot during the explosion, but without any stolen merchandise, I can't lay any charges," Matt stated.
"Demand that you search the entire camp!" Doc blurted out.
"But what if we're wrong? I mean this guy is a reverend," Matt said in a hushed voice as if his comment would be heard on high.
"A man of the cloth wouldn't be fleecing innocent people with stuff like this!" Doc growled and held up the empty bottle.
Matt made a face and knew Doc had a point – a very good one. "Right," Matt growled. "I'll tell Schermerhorn to come clean or we'll search this camp from top to bottom," he stated.
"You don't have to look in the woods, Matthew. Thar ain't nothin' in there but trees and critters," the hill man stated as he thumbed over his shoulder.
"So you've said," Matt said as he stepped past the deputy and walked over to Schermerhorn's caravan.
Festus and Doc watched on, "This isn't gonna be pretty," the hill man huffed.
"It hasn't been from the get go," Doc said. "And if I had my way, I'd tar and feather him if you do find the stolen goods!" he growled.
"If?" Festus looked over to the doctor.
Doc made a face, "You know what I mean. Don't give me a hard time," he grunted.
Festus let air escape through his lips making a fluttering sound, "Pshaw!" he muttered.
Matt stood outside Schermerhorn's caravan door. With a deep breath he rapped on the door. The wagon moved as if someone was moving about inside, "Schermerhorn? It's me, Matt Dillon. I want to talk to you," Matt stated loudly.
The old man pulled open the door, "I thought we were through," Schermerhorn sputtered.
"Not until you tell me where Dawson has stashed the items from the freight office," Matt growled.
"Dawson?" Royden Schermerhorn stepped down from his wagon. "Why do you implicate Red Dawson?" he snorted.
Matt's eyes narrowed, "You know as well as I do that his injury places him at the explosion. If he wasn't working alone, maybe you can tell who else he was with," Matt stood over the older man.
Schermerhorn's mouth opened, "Why I have never!" he sputtered.
Matt leaned slightly more forward, "I some how doubt that," he said in a low tone.
Schermerhorn swallowed, "Fine. Have your way. You can search the camp, but I warn you that you won't find whatever it is you are looking for," the old man ranted. "And once you are finished, I will see that I have your badge for harassing me!" he said thrusting his right index finger into the air.
Matt rolled his eyes, "Sure," he said. He was growing wearily of the reverend's threats. The marshal looked back over his shoulder and motioned for Festus to join him. Schermerhorn's eyes narrowed, "You'll be sorry," he sneered and went back inside his wagon.
"Come on Festus. We are going to look everywhere," Matt stated as the two lawmen began their search.