"More whiskey!" The buffalo hunter had drained the bottle and was pounding the bar again. This time Sam looked over at Kitty and she frowned and shook her head. Kitty had strong objections to trouble in her place and at the rate that hunter was pouring down whiskey, he was very likely to start trouble.

He noticed the interplay between her and Sam and glared at her. "What's the matter, lady? I saw you give him the nod. What do you care how much I drink?"

Kitty stood up. "I own this place, mister, and I'd say you had enough to drink."

The hunter smiled nastily. "Really?"

Kitty smiled back. "Yes, really. Why don't you take a break and have something to eat and come back?"

"What if I don't want to go?"

Sam took out his shotgun and cocked it and the hunter froze. "The lady asked you to leave, mister."

The hunter turned around slowly. "All right, barkeep. I'm going." He started past Sam, then grabbed the shotgun by the barrel and pulled hard. Before the bartender could react, the man grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face on the bar. Sam slid out of sight as his attacker drew a knife. Festus moved forward and he waved the knife at him. "You want some of this?" he growled.

The hillman spread his hands. "Not me, mister. I just want to get out of here." The hunter's lip curled and he motioned towards the door, then turned back to Kitty. She clutched the edge of the table, her knees weak. The man started for her and Festus leaped on him.

Kitty ran for the bar. "Sam, are you all right?" she gasped.

Sam sat up dizzily and she steadied him as he shook his head. "I think so." He picked up the shotgun and fired it into the ceiling, but the fight was already over. The hunter lay on the floor, his knife jammed to the hilt in his chest. Next to him Festus was shivering with shock, his hand pressed to his side. Sam got to his feet and laid the shotgun on the bar, then went to the hillman and helped him into a chair.

"I'd say we need some bandages, Miss Kitty," said Sam.

"I'd say we need Doc," she answered, looking at Festus with concern. A deep cut was gushing blood and a pool was gathering under his chair. The floor was slick with blood and Kitty felt a chill as she realized that most of it belonged to Festus.

"I'll go," said the bartender. He left and Kitty tried to stop the bleeding.

"That was a brave thing you did," she said to the hillman as she held a bar towel to his side.

He was white to the lips, but he smiled at her. "You didn't really think I would leave you to that yahoo, did you, ma'am?"

She smiled back. "I was too scared to think." The bar towel was already soaked with blood and she prayed Doc would hurry. She grabbed another towel and laid it on the first one. It, too, reddened in a moment. Festus was swaying in the chair. Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he crashed to the floor. Doc ran in and knelt by the wounded man, removing the bloody towels. "I tried to stop the bleeding," said Kitty.

"That's good, Kitty." The old man opened his bag. By the time he finished stitching and bandaging, Sam had returned and some of the townspeople, drawn by the commotion, had drifted in. Doc motioned to a couple of them. "All right, let's get him up to my office." They picked Festus up and carried him out.

"I'm going with him," said Kitty to Sam. She left the Longbranch and followed the men upstairs. They laid the hillman on Doc's examining table and were slowly leaving when she came in. Doc took his wrist to check his pulse, frowned, checked the pulse in the neck, then got out his stethoscope. He laid the stethoscope down and turned away and Kitty asked anxiously, "Doc?"

The old man dropped into a chair, his head bent. "Nothing I can do."

"Oh, no!"

"He's lost too much blood. His heart's failing. It's a hell of a thing, isn't it? The first time I ever treat him and he's going to die."

Kitty went to Festus and took his hand. It was icy cold and his face had an oddly peaceful look. She spoke without turning. "Doc, there's got to be something." There was no answer and she looked around to see the old man staring into space. "Doc? Doc!"

"I was just thinking...if only I could do a blood transfusion."

"A what?"

"It's a procedure where blood is taken from a healthy person and put into a person who has lost too much blood."

"I've never heard of it."

"Very likely not. It's almost never done. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't, and nobody knows why. When it works, it's like pouring the life back into a person. When it doesn't..." He stopped and ran his hand over his face.

"Well?"

"When it doesn't, it kills them." The hillman's breathing was growing labored and Doc listened to his heart again. "It could be any time now. I'd chance it if there was somebody to give him some blood."

"I'll do it."

"Oh, no. You're a woman."

"Does that matter?"

Doc looked thoughtful. "I don't know."

"Look, Doc, we don't have time to go around town trying to find somebody. I'm just as strong and twice as sober as any man you're likely to run across."

Doc looked down at the dying man, then into Kitty's determined eyes. He nodded, making up his mind.