Festus silently handed Doc a cup of coffee, and then walked back toward the stove area, not wanting to face up to what was transpiring in the room. Matt sat in the chair next to Doc, worry lining his face.

"Why in the world did you go with her?"

"I already told you, Matt, she told me he was sick."

"But you said yourself that you wouldn't lift a finger to help him if he was dyin' at your feet. Why go?"

Adams didn't try to hid the anger in his voice, "I'm a doctor, Matt, it's what I do. I'd think you'd know that by now for corn's sake."

"Calm down, Doc, I'm not accusing you of anything--"

"--Oh you're not? It sure sounds like ya are."

Dillon placed a gentle hand on the doctor's forearm. "I'm just trying to find out what happened, Doc, that's all." The two old friends exchanged a hard glance, and Matt continued, "The whole damned town heard you threaten him at Delmonico's, then in the middle of the night you go to his hotel room, and shots are fired. Just as I'm comin' in the lobby, I see you standing at the top of the stairs with a smoking gun in your hand, and a dead body tumbling at me down the steps. And you refuse to discuss what your grudge is against him in the first place..."

Doc slammed his coffee cup on the table. "If you think I killed him on purpose Matt, then go ahead and arrest me. Otherwise, I'm tired, and I'm going to bed!" Matt had a funny look on his face, and Doc stared at him. "Well, you wanna lock me up? Make up your damned mind."

Matt moved close to Doc and placed a large hand on his shoulder. "Doc, you know I don't think you killed him, but I have to investigate it just like I would if it were anyone else in Dodge, or I'm not fit to wear this badge."

Adams' voice was much softer. "Looks pretty bad, doesn't it?"

Dillon nodded. "Well, it doesn't look any too good I'll tell you." He pat the shoulder under his hand. "But you don't have anything to worry about, as you said, Ruth Bradley witnessed it all, and will be able to back up everything you're saying." He rubbed the old man's shoulder for a moment. "You want one of us to walk home with ya?"

Doc glared at the tall man. "Oh for--I'm not a senile old man. I know where I live."

Adams slammed the door behind him, and Matt had to smile. But it was fleeting as the tension in the jailhouse grew. Finally Haggen spoke.

"Ya ain't gonna arrest him, are ya, Matthew?"

Dillon couldn't keep the irritation from his timbre, "Of course not." He looked away, then back at Haggen. "I'm sorry Festus, I don't mean to take this out on you."

"It's as you say, Matthew, if'n that daughter of Bradley's tells ya the same tale tommorry mornin', Doc's in the clear."

Dillon felt the muscles in his belly tighten up. "Yeah, if she does."

Festus moved closer to the marshall. "You think she won't?"

"I don't know, Festus. I have a bad feeling about this in the pit of my stomach. There's a lot in play that we don't know."

"You mean about that thar history betwixt old Doc and that Dr. Bradley..."

"Yeah."

"Miss Kitty didn't get it out of the old scudder?"

"You know, she didn't come and talk to me after her visit with him. I'll go see her first thing in the morning. She probably has the whole story; Doc's never been very good at keeping things from her."

The quiet settled on the two men once again, and then Haggen's soft voice spoke up, "You reckon he's okay Matthew? Poor old scudder looked a little ragged around the edges..."

Matt took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, I'm sure he'll be fine..."

But Haggen could hear the uncertainty in the marshall's voice, so it did nothing to allay the deputy's fears.