Matt wasn't certain what he was going to do with the buffalo hunters; just yet as he stood next tot he wagon and stared down at the wheel, remembering the look on Jonas' face. The store owner was mostly likely right about the wheel, but until Matt found Doc, Festus and the buggy, there's be no way of verifying any story. He knew that the hunters were no good, based on the reports he'd herd, but so far no one has charged them with anything – they seemed "slipperdy", Festus would put it.
The marshal glanced back over his shoulder to the Bulls Head and frowned. With a huff he walked away. Matt strolled to the little red brick jailhouse to get warm and get some rest, with hopes that the snow storm would be over in the morning and the could go out in search of his missing friends.
He hoped that the two men were all right. He took some comfort that Doc had his winter coat, and Festus with him. But what puzzled him the most was how the buffalo hunters got the buggy wheel and whether his friends were still alive. It was going to be a long night. The snow was still falling and the wind was still howling. Matt opened the door into the jailhouse and quickly stepped though, closing it quickly behind himself.
As he strolled to the wood stove, Matt brushed the snow from his shoulders before talking off his coat and hat. His next order of business was to get the room warm. Thankfully Festus had filled the wood box the day before, so at least the kindling and fire wood was dry. It wasn't long before Matt had the fire going. He placed a sizable log into the wood stove and closed the door. Still thinking of Doc and Festus, Matt stood looking out onto Front Street and the seemingly never ending snow.
He prayed that the Persons took Doc and Festus in and that maybe the buffalo hunters stole the wheel from there. At least that is what he hoped. Any other scenario frightened him. He couldn't imagine the two men out in the elements, although he knew they could both manage if they were prepared; as far as he knew of either one had packed any food.
Doc stirred slightly, which caused Festus to wake up. He didn't say anything, he just watched as the doctor tried to reposition himself before nodding off again. Festus reached over and adjusted the blanket that Doc had around his shoulders. The one over his legs seemed fine.
The hill man moved to the fire and placed another limb across. The wood crackled and shot little ambers up into the dark sky. The little camp was quiet, except for the echo of the snapping and sputtering of the fire off the surrounding trees. The fire caused the area to glow warmly, even though it was freezing cold.
Festus moved back into the lean-to and stretched his wounded arm, which caused him to wince. He'd dare not complain about it, for the wrath of Doctor Adams would descend upon him; the hill man made a face at the thought.
Again trying to get warm, Festus folded his arms across this chest as he leaned back in the tree. Slowly his eyes closed. All he could think about was the three men at the buggy, "Nervy bastards," he muttered. "Ifin I get my hands around the grubby little necks," he growled, "I'll snap em like twigs. Leavin' us out here without a wheel. I bet Matthew would have something to say about that," he huffed. He was now envisioning Matt locking the men up, with that look on his face. Festus smiled as he enjoyed the thought. "I'd leave them out back of the jail, myself, Matthew," he humoured himself further before he finally fell asleep.
Kirkland swallowed the last of his drink and looked over to Morrison, "Hurry up will you?" he urged. "I know there's a warm bed over at that boarding house with my name on it," he shoved Morrison on the shoulder.
"Yeah, I do too, but it ain't often I can sit down and enjoy some whiskey and a cigar without having to stoke a fire, cook my food or watch for wolves," Morrison said in a soothing tone as he savoured the last of his drink.
Kirkland nodded, "I'll get us a bottle to go," he said as he stood up and staggered to the bar, ordering the bottle, "Oh, Patty will be parched by now," he hollered across the floor to his friend.
Morrison finished his drink and got to his feet, "That's if Patty is still alive," the buffalo hunter half laughed as he wove his way through the men and chairs to join his friend.
"Shame if he ain't," Kirkland stated as he paid for the bottle and snatched it from the bar keep's hand.
"You know for an Irishman, he isn't very lucky," Morrison laughed, which in turn caused Kirkland to laugh as the two men staggered from the saloon into the blustery winter night.
"I thought they had then shamrocks and such for luck," Kirkland made a soberish statement in the middle of the street.
"He must have left his back home," Morrison stated. "He never talked of it," he added as he thought.
"Maybe it's something they don't talk about," Kirkland's eyes narrowed in thought.
"Come on, we can ask him later. Let's get to our room and have another drink," Morrison said as he pulled on Kirkland's coat. The two men wobbled through the snow and past their wagon to the boarding house where they had left O'Shea.
The two men enter the boarding house and tired not to make a noise as he they walked down the hall to their room; Cleo the cat watched them as they walked along and growled. Even the cat hated them. Once at their room, Kirkland opened the door and found Patty sprawled across the only bed, right where they left him. Morrison closed the door and watched as Kirkland kicked the bed, "You alive, Patty?" he looked down at his friend.
O'Shea groaned, "Be doing me a favour and find a doctor," he said holding his side. "That bullet bit me good," he sighed as he looked up at Kirkland and the bottle. "Is that whisky you have?" he asked.
"Yeah, it is," Kirkland grunted.
"Give me a sip. Fer medicinal purposes," Patty smiled weakly.
"Sure," Kirkland stated, "Then we need to get some sleep. Seems that the marshal has something against us about that wagon wheel, and I'd rather we don't tangle with him," he stated as he assisted Patty with the drink.
Morrison had already found a chair to sleep in and that he was.
"We got that wheel fair and square," Patty said as he swallowed the whiskey.
"Sure we did and that's what I've told him," Kirkland stated. "Now you rest. If you need a doctor in the morning, I'll go looking for one," he said as he corked the bottle and settled down on a cot.
"The whiskey makes me feel warm through and through," the Irishman smiled as his eyes closed. It seemed that the only one's getting a decent night's sleep were the buffalo hunters. The sound of the winter wind howled and groaned outside as the snow continued to fall.