Buck recalled standing quietly next to Chester's bay horse watching as Matt made coffee while Chester still slept. He rose from his blankets quickly as soon as he heard the coffee pot scrape on the stones by the fire.
"Morning Chester coffee strong and hot," Matt said offering a cup to his assistant.
"I can't ride all day on nothing but coffee, Mister Dillon."
"Ah we'll find something to eat."
"Where there ain't nothing between here and Dodge and that's at least 100 miles away. I ain't seen so much as an antelope track."
"Well I wasn't figuring on a restaurant Chester."
"This what we get for riding all the way to Tascosa just to return a prisoner."
"Somebody had to do it. I didn't want to keep him in Dodge."
Buck already alert to the approach of the horse and rider jerked his head up further as a shot rang out the bullet hitting the ground in front of Matt and Chester. They dived for cover their guns ready.
"Did you see him?" Chester asked.
"No. Sounded like a Sharps .44 to me."
"Well that's big enough we ain't buffalo."
They waited as the rider appeared through the trees. They rose to stand ready to act if they needed to.
"Well are you going to shoot us?" Matt asked.
"Who are you?" The rider replied.
"You put that rifle away I'll tell you" Matt said.
"Put your guns away," the rider answered.
Matt holstered his gun as Chester lowered his rifle.
"Want some coffee," Matt asked with a smile.
The rider put her rifle in the boot on her saddle and dismounted. Matt offered a cup to her.
"Strong and hot."
"You rustlers or what?"
"Is that why you shot at us, you thought we were rustlers?"
"Saw something move didn't know you was human."
"Didn't know we was human?" Chester asked dumbfounded.
"Only shot once didn't hit you, did I?"
"What were you looking for Miss?"
"You haven't told me who you are yet?"
"Well this is Chester Goode and I'm Matt Dillon."
"Means nothing to me."
"I'm a US Marshal out of Dodge."
"US Marshal that's nice."
"It is?"
Matt and Buck were both surprised normally that would his being a US Marshal would draw hate or derision often both.
"I need help. I need help bad."
"What's the trouble?"
"My Daddy he's awful sick."
"Sick?"
"Hm-hm in bed at home. Over that way a couple of miles."
"Well what's he sick with?"
"His leg horse threw him. Him and his saddle both out in the corral. Horse stepped on his foot."
"Oh."
"His leg's all funny now he's got a fever too."
"Mister Dillon that sounds like it might be …"
Matt signaled Chester to say nothing suspecting the same thing.
"Look Miss when the horse stepped on him did it cut his foot did it break the skin anywhere?"
"Just a little scratch tore his boot off though. Please Marshal would you come and see him. I'm scared the way his leg is and everything."
"Why sure. Sure we'll come. Is your mother with him now?"
"I don't have a mother."
"Oh. Well if your daddy's sick what are you doing out here?"
"Well we ran out of meat about 3 days ago I didn't have anything to feed him so I came out to shoot something."
"Yeah all right. Chester I'll ride back with … What's your name?"
"Holly. Holly Hawtree."
"All right Holly. Scout around for some meat Chester."
"Yes sir."
"And if you don't find any antelope, shoot the first calf you see anybody's calf."
"Sure will Mister Dillon."
Chester and Matt to saddle their horses Buck patient as always noticed Bob sneak a lungful of air he lost count of the times he'd told Bob that he shouldn't do it. The two men mounted Chester rode off to hunt for some meat while Matt turned to accompany Holly to her family's farm.
When they arrived at the farm and dismounted Matt shot a look at the saddle on the fence rail. Buck did the same and didn't like what he saw there was definitely something about that saddle he didn't like.
"That's Daddy's saddle."
"Where's the horse that threw him?"
"We got a couple of acres fenced out back of the wagon shed. I turned him in there."
"I'll turn ours in there later."
Good Buck thought cause I'd like to have a few words with him.
"Let's go see your Daddy."
"Marshal you'll help won't you. I mean you won't just look at him and go and go away."
"No of course not."
When Matt had finished and took the saddle back to the fence by the house. Bob was stood hitched to the fence. Chester came out as Matt dropped the saddles.
"Couldn't find no real meat Mister Dillon."
"No."
"No I brought in a couple of prairie chickens and a few rabbits that's all."
"That's enough."
"I saw Mister Hawtree just for a minute. He looks pretty bad, don't he?"
"Can't last more than a day or two."
"It's what we thought then?"
"Gangrene as soon as that poison reaches his heart he's done for."
"Ain't there no way to stop it?"
"There's only one way I ever heard of."
"What's that?"
"Cut off his leg."
"Will that stop it. I mean cutting off his leg?"
"I don't know Chester I don't know. It may be too late anyway."
"Well I sure don't take to sitting around doing nothing. Waiting for a man to die."
"Nobody does."
"Well you could do it Mister Dillon I know you could."
"Are you out of your head."
"No sir."
"What are you talking about then? The most I ever did was to doctor a horse for the colic. It's fine training for this, isn't it?"
"Well I know I couldn't do it. I just plain haven't got the spirit."
Bob sacrificed 10 hairs from his tail to aid the sick human in the house.
It was much later that Bob watched as Matt sat on the corral fence with Chester standing close by.
"Beats me how he just lays there," Chester said, "peaceful and quiet."
"Well it's only been 4 or 5 hours may be the liquor hasn't worn off yet."
"He drank darn near a whole jug."
"He needed it."
Chester took note of the sound of a wagon coming.
"Mister Dillon somebody's coming."
"What are you doing here?" The driver asked.
"Are you Ben Walling?" Matt asked.
"Who are you anyway," Ben asked.
"I'm a US Marshal."
"Ain't no Marshals around here."
"Generally I'm in Dodge."
"Your name Dillon."
"That's right."
"What are you doing here?"
"Seems like the only able-bodied man round here took off in the wagon."
"I went to fetch a doctor anything wrong in that?"
"Nope. Where is he?"
"Well first night these dang horses run off I've been chasing them on foot ever since. I didn't catch them until this morning I've been gone so long I got to worrying about Holly and Old Hawtree of course."
"I see."
"He's going to all right, huh? That foot of his looked to me like it might have some poison in it."
"It did."
"What'd you mean did?"
"I took his leg off about noon today."
"What, well how do you know what to do? You might have killed him."
"It had to be done. It's a sure thing Holly couldn't do it."
"You're blaming me ain't ya. I done everything I could. It ain't my fault these blasted horses run off."
"Hawtree's pretty sick Ben I'd stay away from the house for a day or 2 if I were you."
"All right I won't bother nobody and look Marshal you can leave now. I'll handle everything around here."
"We'll leave as soon as Hawtree's able to take care of himself again."
"All right stay as long you like I don't care."
Ben started to drive the wagon towards the wagon shed.
"He's a no good liar," Chester said.
"Come here," Matt took Chester to where Hawtree's saddle was on the fence rail. "This is the saddle that busted loose with Mister Hawtree."
Matt showed Chester the cinch.
"Why that's been cut."
"Yeah."
"Well no wonder that bronc throwed him and his saddle both."
"Ben figured Hawtree would get hurt may be killed."
"But why?"
"So he could have a free hand with Holly."
"Marshal," Holly called from the door of the house.
Matt and Chester returned to the house.
"My Daddy wants you. I think he's …"
Matt stopped her going into the house.
"You stay here with Chester, I'll call you."
Matt went on into the house he called Holly a short while later and came out himself.
"How is he? Is he going to die."
Matt nodded looking dejected.
"Yeah."
"Oh my. Well what about Holly what are you going to do about her?"
"Oh take her to Dodge. Find her a home may be a family."
Bob looked toward the house seeing Ben with a rifle trained on Matt and Chester.
"Turn around both of you. Don't you try nothing."
"You're getting mighty careless with that shotgun."
"Don't you get smart with me I know what I'm doing."
"Just what would that be?"
"I heard you in there I heard every word. I heard you promise to take Holly away. I was standing right by the window."
"You got a mighty curious way of courting a girl. Trying to kill her father."
"And I seen you a while ago looking at that saddle. I didn't kill him Marshal. You did."
"Put that shotgun down. You're under arrest for attempted murder."
"Stay right where you are."
"You know I've got an idea you've smelt powder before and you're afraid of it. I've got an idea that's why you tried to get Hawtree the way you did instead of shooting him."
"Stop there."
"Go ahead shoot."
"I'll do it."
"Sure you can kill me but you can't kill me quick enough."
"What?"
"I can get a bullet in you before I die. I can take your shot and still get one off. You're holding that shotgun to low and if you move it I'll draw."
"You're talking."
"You should have aimed at my head this way we can both die."
"You couldn't do it."
"I know what I can do. Are you ready. You're beginning to wish you didn't have that shotgun at all. You're not ready to die, are you?"
Matt quickly grabbed the end of the shotgun pulling it towards him so that it's shot went wild and then hitting down onto Ben's neck sending him sprawling unconscious on the ground. He handed the shotgun to Chester.
"I'm going in to try to ease Holly."
Buck had learned some of what happened from Bob and some from Chester when he came to saddle them and harness the wagon horses to the wagon talking all the time. Now he waited tied to the back of the wagon filled with the household goods while Matt sat on the driver's seat waiting as Holly came towards the wagon with some flowers. She climbed up and Matt helped her the rest of the way.
"I took just a few from his grave. Do you think that's all right."
"I think he'd want you to have them. He's got a lot of flowers a whole prairie full."
Matt started the wagon forward with Chester on Bob and Ben on Holly's horse following behind. The bronc they'd set free to run wild.