He felt the hand shaking his shoulder, but Matt was terribly groggy; then he remembered the bottle of whiskey. He forced his eyelids to open, and stared at the scruffy face of Festus.

"It's about time, Matthew. I wuz beginnin' ta wonder aboutcha..."

Dillon sat up in his bunk, staring at his deputy through barely open eyes. "You were wondering about me? Where have you been?"

Haggen took a few steps away, turning his back to the marshall. "My head's been all swobbledy'd-upped, Matthew. I jes' don't know whut ta thank..."

Dillon stood up and pat Haggen's shoulder. "Doc'll be mighty glad to see you."

Festus stared at the floor. "I feel plum awful about leavin', Matthew. Poor ol' scudder's been locked up...n'...how could this be, Matthew? Ever'body knows Doc'd never hurt nobody. Cain't believe ol' Judge Brooker locked him up like this."

Matt stretched his back before buckling up his gunbelt. "You gonna ride up to Hays with me tomorrow?"

Haggen turned to stare at the marshall. "Hays?"

Dillon pursed his lips before he spoke. "I have to take Doc up there tomorrow morning."

Haggen's brow furrowed deeply. "But Matthew, we cain't take him there. Whut if... wull whut if'n them folks don't see the truth that's a settin' right thar in front of thar faces?"

Matt took a large breath of air. "Let's cross that bridge when we get there, Festus." He pat the man's shoulder. "Do you wanna go get his supper from Delmonico's?"

"Sure will, Matthew, I'll git his vittles and be back directly."

Dillon nodded, "All right then." When the deputy hit the door, the marshal added, "Festus, get him the roast beef...it's his favorite."

Sadness crept into the deputy's eyes. "You don't thank he's gonna be a-comin' back..."

Dillon snapped harshly at his deputy, "I didn't say that, Festus." The tension between them was stretched tightly, and Matt let out a sigh of air. "I'm sorry, Festus... I just want Doc to have somethin' I know he likes."

Haggen's voice was soft, "I reckon we're all a little skitterdy, Matthew." Festus stared into Dillon's eyes, building up courage to say what hadn't been said between them. "The evidenc'd ag'inst him's pretty bad, ain't it?"

"It's not good, Festus, no."

He swallowed hard. "Matthew, if'n this trial don't go his way--"

"--Festus, don't talk like that."

"Matthew, I jes' wantcha ta know that if'n it don't go Doc's way, I'll have ta take off this here badge."

The meaning wasn't lost on Matt, and he held Haggen's eyes with his own. "We both might, Festus."

Haggen nodded, the unspoken certainty of what the two men would do in the face of the unthinkable, assured. Festus silently walked out of the jailhouse, closing the door behind him.

She opened the door to number nine of the Dodge House, and was surprised to find the pretty redhead she had seen at Delmonico's a few nights prior, standing on the other side.

Her voice was cool, "Can I help you?"

"Miss Bradley, my name is Kitty Russell, I own the Longbranch across the street."

"You were with Doctor Adams that night at Delmonico's."

Kitty nodded. "Yes, I was. May I come in a moment?"

"What do you want?"

"I just want to speak with you for a few minutes."

"What about?"

"About your father, and Doc Adams."

"I don't mean to be rude, Miss Russell, but I don't see how this is any of your concern."

"Well Miss Bradley, Doc Adams is my concern, and I'd like a chance to speak with you; it'll only take but a minute or so."

"Very well."

The young woman held the door open, and Kitty Russell walked in. After closing the door, Ruth Bradley stood with her back to it, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Realizing the woman wasn't going to offer so much as a chair, Kitty squared off, facing her.

"I'll come right to the point, Miss Bradley. I've known Doc Adams most of my life, and if there's one thing I know, he isn't some kind of cold-blooded killer." Kitty's voice took on a hard edge, "Even if he had a good reason."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Kitty's eyes narrowed. "Are you sayin' you have no idea? You must have some reason why you haven't told the truth about what happened the night your father died."

"How dare you walk in here and accuse me of being a liar."

"Miss Bradley, I've known all kinds of people over the years, and I know lyin' when I hear it. What I don't understand is why..."

"Did you have a close relationship with your father, Miss Russell?"

Kitty frowned slightly, thinking of her real father, and of how she could never trust him. "No, Miss Bradley, no I didn't."

"Then you can't possibly understand what it's like to watch the person who's loved you and protected you unconditionally, be shot to death in front of your eyes." She fought her own tears, "You can't know the bond of a father's love--"

"--that's where you're wrong, Miss Bradley. Doc's been more of a father to me than any blood kin could ever hope to be, and I'd do anything to save him--" Kitty choked on her own emotion, and had to pause for a moment to regain her control. "I don't know why you're doing this, but I do know what happened 27 years ago, and if you think for a moment that I will stay silent at Doc's trial, you have another thing comin'."

Kitty pushed past the woman, but Bradley grabbed Russell by the arm. "Tell me what was between them."

Kitty stared hard into the younger woman's eyes: whatever her reasons for lying about the circumstances around her father's death, it had nothing to do with the past; Russell could see that much in the confounded ocean of brown. And an angle Kitty hadn't thought open to her, showed itself.

"You'd better sit down, Miss Bradley, and if you have a bottle of somethin' tucked away, pull out a couple of glasses. It'll make this a little easier to swallow..."