Matt stopped in front of the saloon and took Sheriff Miller by the upper right arm, "Before we go in there, I need to know who offered the reward," Matt's voice was calm and calculated and his steel blue eyes held Miller in his foot steps.

"I'm not sure exactly who it was. It was all organized by the Cattleman's Association. They were getting mighty tired of finding dead beef," Miller looked Matt straight in the eyes and Matt slowly let go of the sheriff's arm and nodded, "All right, let's go in. And remember," Matt looked over to the sheriff, "I'm only interested in anyone that was eyeing that purse."

Miller knew Matt's tone was carrying a mixture of anger, lawfulness and revenge. The sheriff watched matt push through the doors making his presence known. Matt stood, and looked around the room and the banter chatter grew to a dull lull as all eyes were on the tall marshal from Dodge City. Matt looped his thumbs over his belt buckle as he walked slowly and methodically to the bar at the back of the room. The whole time his eyes looked at the faces that stared back at him. There was the odd cough.

As Matt neared the bar with Duncan Miller at his side, the drone of conversation began to pick up again, "Maybe that was just a little bit too theatrical for this crowd, Matt," Milled mused as he looked around the room. Matt made a face and then placed his palms down on the bar and leaned forward, "Who's the head of the Cattleman's Association?" he looked over his shoulder to Miller.

Sheriff Miller cast his eyes around the saloon and spotted Howard Garwood who was sitting with several of his associates at the table near the saloon door, "Howard Garwood. He's the big fella with the white shirt at the table near the door. He's eyed you ever since you've walked in," Miller spoke quietly.

Matt smiled slightly, "I figured as much..." he said as he turned and was about to walk to the table, however, Garwood stood and pushed away his chair and then sternly walked toward Matt, "You're a long way from Dodge, are you Marshal?"

"Just looking into a situation..." Matt didn't move.

Miller stepped forward, "Don't start something, Howard," the sheriff held out his hands to stop Garwood from taking too many more steps.

By now, Matt had his hands hanging loosely at his sides. It was something that he was comfortable about doing in a confrontation - he could either reach his gun or better ball up his fist and strike. It all boiled down to what the man in front of him was planning on doing. Matt's eyes were watchful as he stood cautiously waiting to see what the cattlemen had to say for himself.

"And what situation would that be, marshal?" Garwood huffed.

"Did you put the money up for the killer cat?" Matt asked straight out.

Garwood looked back over his shoulder to his friends before he looked back at Matt, "What if we did?"

Matt stepped forward, "I don't care that you did. I just want to know if anyone had their eyes on getting it..."

Garwood shrugged, "I suppose a few fellas might have..." he stopped and narrowed his eyes at the marshal, "Why? We aren't in any trouble, are we? I mean we where just looking out for our livestock!" Garwood's voice rose.

"The only trouble you'll be in, is it you don't tell me who might have really wanted that reward!" Matt said firmly.

Garwood huffed, "Why, what has happened to get yourself all worked up?" the cattlemen rested his thick hands on his hips.

"My deputy received that reward the other day. And on his way home someone shot him really badly and then stole what money he had left..." Matt's jaw muscles flexed as he was getting tired and even more angry.

Howard Garwood back down slightly, "I see. Well, we never did specify who could get the reward, after all, we just wanted the damn cat dead. Too bad about your deputy..."

"So?" Matt then crossed his arms, "Would, in your opinion might have had their eyes set on the reward money?"

Garwood looked slightly flustered, "Now, marshal, that's not fair to ask me in front of everyone here. I mean, I feel like I've done something wrong!"

Matt dropped his arms to his side, "Sheriff Miller, I am going to go to the hotel and get a room and lay down. I hope that your people feel more open to talking to you and I hope to have a few names by the morning, because," Matt started for the door of the saloon, "if I don't have a name or two, I'll be in Hayes a whole lot longer, and I'm sure you don't want that..." Matt's eyes narrowed at the sheriff who stood in the middle of the room looking at Howard Garwood and his men. Miller scratched his cheek and then sighed.

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Doc stood from the table, "Thanks for listening, Kitty. I guess sometimes I get so consumed with everything, I forget to breathe for myself," he ticked his head.

Kitty stood and walked with Doc to the door of the saloon, "I forget to breathe sometimes too, Doc," her blue eyes melted into the doctor's. "If you want me to watch over Festus for a while tonight, just let me know, all right?" Doc's greying moustache curled slightly, "Thank you, Kitty. I think I'll be fine for the night," he winked as he slowly pushed through the swing doors.

Kitty stepped out onto the boardwalk and watched Doc make his way to the staircase. A lump formed in her throat as a feeling of helplessness washed over her. She just wished Doc would let her help more but she respected his wishes and with a heavy heart she turned with a shiver from the cool night air. Slowly she pushed on the right swing door and entered the saloon which usually held an atmosphere of fun, but for some reason, this whole night was quiet and rather eerie to Kitty Russell.