Louie Pheeters drew a deep breath as he stepped off the final tread and stood on the boardwalk below the doctor's office. Pheeters adjusted his coat sleeves and shirt collar before walking across Front Street to the telegraph office. A few of Dodge's long time residence turned to look at the man who was more often seen in a dishevelled state than in a clean suit. No one spoke a word and everyone kept moving.

Louie's heart was pounding in his chest as he neared the doorway of the Dodge House, which he had to pass in order to reach the telegraph office. So far, he felt like everything was going to plan.

Pheeters stopped at the entrance to the telegraph office and looked around the street before he entered. Barney Danches looked up from his desk. He went back to his business before he stopped and did a double take, Louie?" he asked as he stood up from his desk and walked to the service counter.

Louie motioned for Barney not to pay particular notice of him, "Shhh," Louie whispered. "Doc asked me to send this message to Hayes to try and catch the marshal before he leaves," Pheeters said as he handed over the slip of paper.

"Why doesn't Doc send this himself?" Barney asked in a hushed voice.

"He can't," Louie answered.

"Why can't he?" Barney asked again.

"Please, just send the message now," Louie said. "It's very, very important," Pheeters urged.

Barney shrugged as he realized that he was not likely to get any information from Louie so he stepped over to his key and began tapping out the message. His finger touched the switch lightly and rapidly and with in a few seconds the message was sent. "Here you go," he handed Louie the piece of paper. "That will be ten cents," he said.

Louie frowned, "You'll have to get that from Doc," he said.

Barney frowned, "And I suppose you have to wait for an answer," Danches asked. Louie nodded.

Barney pulled a tall stool over to the service counter and leaned on his elbow. Together he and Louie would wait.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Doc turned to Jonas who was still standing near the examination table. "Yo look like you have a lot of questions on your mind, Jonas," Doc said as he slowly moved back to his desk and sat in the swivel chair.

Jonas opened his mouth and was about to ask why everything was going so wrong, but he closed it and reformulated his words, "Doc, why didn't you have Festus or Newly arrest that man?" he asked. Doc could hear and see the annoyance in the store owner's voice and body language.

"If I had him arrested, his friends would likely try and get him out." Doc said. "Furthermore, he wanted to kill me, and if my plan works and he thinks he's gotten away with it, then he's libel to slip up thinking he's invincible," Doc stated.

Jonas gently rubbed his chin, "I can't see how that is going to happen," he said in a low tone.

Doc looked over at his friend, "Jonas, I know you are mad at that man, and you have every right to be, but the circumstances are not in our favour right now. If that man thinks I'm dying, he'll focus on something else. And I can't imagine he would attack you twice. He knows that he's being watched for that," Doc said.

Jonas' blue eyes shifted to Doc, "I best get back to my store," he said as he stepped toward the door where he paused, "I really hope your plan works, Doc," he said with a slight smile.

"I think it will, Jonas." Doc smiled back. "But there's one thing you can do for me," he said.

"Oh?" Jonas asked.

"Screen the people coming up here," Doc said. "I don't want everyone on in Dodge barging up here to see me laying on my death bed," the doctor said.

Jonas caught himself in a half laugh, "I'll do that, Doc," he said with a tick of his head and left the doctor's office. Jonas composed himself and drew on some bad times in his past to get into the mood he was supposed to be after visiting a "dying" man. His face was grim and eyes were sad as he walked down the stairs, right into Thomas Holt. The look of the gun man made is stomach flip, "What can I do for you?" Jonas asked as he sidestepped Holt.

"You look might grim," Holt tried not to smile. "What's wrong?'

Jonas swallowed, "Someone shot Doc last night. He's not expected to live," Jonas said as he busied himself with some produce on the shelves in front of the general store.

Holt scratched his chin, "Is that a fact?" he said looking up the stairs.

"It is in deed," Jonas shot back at the younger man. "It's best if you just left here," he turned and faced Holt again.

Holt chuckled, "You are feisty, I'll give you that," he said flicking Jonas' vest lapel with his index finger before he walked over to the Long Branch.

Jonas' blood was boiling and his jaw was clenched tight, "The marshal will get you," he squeezed out through his teeth with his eyes narrowing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

D'Arcy Tucker scribbled down the message he received at the Hayes telegraph office. He reread it and quickly stepped out from behind his counter and ran out the door. He stopped hoping to get a glance of either the sheriff or the marshal - or both.

Tucker dashed up the street to the sheriff's office and burst through the door, "Sheriff!" he said waving the telegram in his hand.

Sheriff Greer looked up from his desk, "What is it, man!" he asked slightly annoyed by the outburst.

"This telegram just came in for Marshal Dillon. It's very important!" he said thrusting the paper into Greer's hands. The sheriff quickly read the note, "Matt's just gone to get his horse," Greer stated and moved quickly to the jail house door, "I'll see he get this!" Greer stated leaving Tucker standing in the doorway as he watched the sheriff run up the street to the livery stable.

Tucker sighed, "I sure hope he gets it," he said as he stepped out side the jail and pulled the door closed before retuning to his own office.

Sheriff Greer huffed as he reached the stable, "Good, you aren't gone," he said to Matt as he leaned against the door.

"No, why?" Matt said as he stopped adjusting the buckle on his saddle and looked at his old friend.

Greer panted, "This just came for you," he huffed and handed Matt the telegram. Matt's eyes quickly scanned the message and looked up to the sheriff, "I have to respond," he said stepping past the sheriff and charging down the street to the telegraph office.

D'Arcy stood waiting, "What am I to send, marshal?"

Matt's eyes narrowed in thought, "Send this," he said and began to tell Tucker what to type.