"Matt! Over there!"

"That looks like Ruth!"

Dillon pointed the wagon in the direction of the grazing mule, and stopped several feet away, so as not to spook the jack. He climbed down, collecting the mule's reins in his hand, and he tied Ruth to the back of the wagon. Together with Doc, the marshal began following the mule tracks back in the direction he had come. He just hoped they weren't too late.

Doc continued to strain his eyes scanning the prairie for any sign of Festus, but there had been nothing for miles.

"You sure you've got the right tracks?"

Dillon glared at his old friend, but recognizing that Doc's worry was getting the best of him, stifled a biting response. "Yes Doc, I'm sure I've got the right tracks."

"We've come half way across Kansas, and we haven't--"

"--Festus!"

Matt slapped the reins hard and the horses took off at a run, coming to an abrupt stop a few feet from his deputy. Doc practically jumped off the buckboard, grabbed his bag and some blankets and took off at the closest thing to a run that he could muster, with Dillon right on his heels. Doc knelt next to Festus and gently examined the wound on his forehead.

"Doc?"

"Don't know yet, Matt..."

"His leg looks bad."

Adams reached down to Haggen's leg, probing it as carefully as he could. Festus screamed in agony. Adams put a calming hand on the man's forehead.

"Easy ol' boy..."

Haggen cried with pain, "Doc...my leg, Doc..."

Adams brushed a soothing hand over Haggen's brow. "You just lie still and let ol' Doc take care of you." He turned to Dillon. "Matt, we've got to stabilize this leg before we can move him, can you find me a branch or stick, something straight and sturdy?"

"Sure can Doc."

Dillon moved away, searching the ground for a makeshift splint, and Adams continued his examination of the deputy. He ran his hands slowly and gently down Haggen's chest and Festus cried out in distress. As carefully as he could he checked his friend's ribs and much to his dismay, discovered that most of them were broken, probably splintered.

"Oh Festus..."

Haggen clutched at the old doctor's jacket sleeve, his voice a slight whisper, "Doc...I ain't never hurt like this afore..."

Afraid his voice would betray his emotions, Adams wordlessly reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of laudanum. Gently he lifted Haggen's head and poured a small amount of the liquid into his mouth. He put the bottle away, cleaned the wound on Haggen's head, and then covered him with a blanket. Matt came back carrying a large branch, and Doc rose, meeting him halfway. Dillon frowned.

"Doc?"

"It's bad, Matt." The old man shook his head, trying to cover his own fear. "It's real bad."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know if we should move him."

Dillon looked at Adams as if the man had gone crazy. "Well we can't leave him out here..."

Doc's tone was biting, "I know that for corn sake, it's just--"

When the doctor didn't continue, the marshal prompted him. "It's just what?"

"Matt, he's broken up somethin' terrible. There ain't a rib that hasn't splintered, and his leg...I don't even know that I can fix that."

"Well you sure can't if we don't get him outta here."

"You don't understand, Matt. Ridin' in that buckboard's gonna be pure agony; I don't think he can survive it."

"Festus is one of the toughest men I've ever known."

Adams put a hand on Dillon's arm. "It ain't a question of tough, Matt. There's only so much pain and trauma the human body can take, and by haulin' him on that thing to Dodge, we're going to be putting his through pure hell."

Matt pushed the tip of his hat back slightly and stared hard into Doc's eyes. He could see the old man's fear, and he felt it land in the pit of his own stomach. He put a soft hand on his friend's shoulder.

"You and I both know there's no choice, Doc."

Adams swallowed hard and looked down at the dirt. "We can't lose him, Matt. We just can't..."

He looked up at the tall marshal and added, "Kitty'd never forgive us..."

Grabbing the branch from Dillon's hand, the old doctor turned abruptly and walked back to his patient. Matt pursed his lips; if Festus died on the way in it was going to be hard on all of them, but it would rip Doc to shreds for sure.