Matt was nodding off at his desk; things were a little wild in Dodge last night as everyone was looking to find a way to warm up. Unfortunately, some of the fellas were now sleeping it off in the cells behind the wooden door at the jail house. Finally Matt crossed his arms and placed his head down. He was sound asleep.
Meanwhile, Wilbur Jonas arrived at his store and paused, he was going to check to see if the doctor arrived after he left town for the night. Again the store owner climbed the stairs and rapped on the door, and again there was no response. Jonas frowned as he opened the door and entered the doctor's office. The little wood stove was almost cold, again. "Well this isn't right. Doc should be here by now," he muttered to himself and quickly left to ask Matt if he'd seen the doctor.
The store owner crossed the quiet street and opened the door to the jail house. He paused at the sight of the marshal, "Matt? Are you all right?" he asked as he moved to the desk.
Matt grunted and lifted his head, "If you mean only having three hours sleep, then, yeah, I'm all right, why?" he looked up at Jonas.
"Well, I'm sorry about that Matt," the store owner stammered, "but I was just up to Doc's and he still isn't there," Jonas stated as he nervously rotated his bowler hat in his hands.
Matt blinked as he righted himself the desk. He then drew his right hand down over his face as he tried to wake up and grasp what Jonas had just told him, "Doc's not back yet?"
Jonas shook his head no. "I even put a fire on for him last night thinking he's be in late, but not a log has been on there since. The room is as cold as it is outside," he stated.
Matt stood from his desk, "Well, I'm sure there's a logical explanation, given what you said of Thomas Hayes said about his son's leg," he said as he walked over to the wash basin. Inside Matt was worried about Doc; it was unusual that he wouldn't keep an appointment. "I'll ride out to the Hayes place and find out what's keeping him. I really hope the boy didn't lose his leg," Matt said.
"I sure hope so too, Matt," Jonas nodded. "Now I feel kind of silly about my hand," he sighed.
"Why? You're hand is a great part of you job. I'll get Doc and then he'll look at it, as he said," Matt smiled as he dried his face and then picked his gun belt off the peg. Matt then walked to the door and plucked his hat off the wooden dowel, "See you later," he flashed a quick smile to the store owner.
Festus Haggen was just on his way back to the jail house when he spotted the marshal and noticed the look on his face, "Matthew?"
"Doc's not back from the Hayes place yet," Matt spoke as Festus handed him the mail. Matt sifted through it, "Put this on my desk and get the horses saddled. I'm going over to the telegraph office," he added.
"Sure thang, Matthew," Festus said as he took the mail from the marshal and entered the jail house, passing Jonas as he left, they both nodded in greeting. The store owner watched out the window and hoped that the marshal was right about Doc.
Matt entered the telegraph office just as Barney was finishing what looked like a frantic message. He looked up at the marshal, "Good timing," he quipped. "This just came in for you," he stated as he handed the note to Matt. The marshal's eyes scanned the telegram, "Damn it," he muttered under his breath. He then looked at the telegraph operator, "Thanks, Barney," he said before he left. Matt's next stop was at the gunsmith's shop to see part-time deputy, Newly O'Brien.
O'Brien was busy with a rifle as Matt entered his shop, causing the young man to look up, "Hello marshal," he smiled and went back to work. "What can I do for you?" he asked as he tried to loosen a screw.
"We might have trouble," Matt stated as he placed the telegraph on the workbench. "I need you to keep an eye on things as Festus and I ride out to the Hayes' place," he stated as he watch Newly pick up the message and read it. He nodded, "Doc's still not back?" he looked up at Matt.
Matt shook his head no, "From what Jonas said the boy is in a bad way. We'll be back later in the day. Keep an eye on the post office to see if any wanted posters come out," Matt said as he pointed to the telegram.
"Sure thing, marshal," Newly smiled as he opened the bench drawer and pulled out his deputy badge.
Doc stood next to the table were Jeb lay. He had his stethoscope on and was placing it on several locations on Turner's back as he tried to get a sound, any sound. Slowly he shook his head and pulled the blanket up over Jeb's head. He was dead.
Sloane walked into the cabin just as Doc pulled his stethoscope off and placed it into his bag. Frankie walked toward the table, "What's this? Is he that cold?"
"Oh, he's cold alright," Doc looked over to the gunman. "Stone cold. He's dead," he then stated.
Sloane looked over to Winslow who remained off to the side. He then stepped closer to the doctor, "I thought you were a doctor?" he growled down at Doc.
"I am a doctor, and had you the sense to bring him to me after he was shot, I could have saved him!" Doc barked as he pointed to the body on the table.
Sloane was full of fury and lashed out with a fist, hitting Doc hard across the chin, sending him to the floor. Doc slowly looked up, holding his jaw, "You're nothing more than a bully. You beat on everyone," he snarled as he began to right himself.
Sloane was now seething so much so that his nostrils flared with every breath. He pulled his gun and fired a single shot. Doc slumped to the floor and groaned. The gunman then looked to Winslow who stepped forward, "Why did you shoot him?" he asked as he wanted to kneel down and check on the doctor.
"Touch him and you join him," Sloane warned. "Get to your horse. We're getting he hell out of here," he snarled.
Doc tried to sit, but the pain in his left side was too great. He lay back down and watched the two men leave the building. He held his side as tightly as he could, but even in his state, he knew he was bleeding a lot. Doc gently placed his head back down on the floor and thought. His mind jumped from one thought to another as he struggled to stay conscious. He blinked his eyes rapidly as he tried to figure a way to get warm.
Sloane and Winslow were n their horses and with Sloane's orders they left Jebs' horse behind and took the path along the stream.
Holding his left hand tightly over the wound, Doc managed to crawl to the fireplace and get a log onto the ambers with this right hand; all it produced was smoke. He sighed, and then looked up at the table where the dead man lay, "My blanket," he seethed as he then moved to the table, on his rump. With a bloodied hand he reached up and managed to grab the edge of the blanket – with the weight of his body dropping back to the floor, the blanket slipped off Jeb and landed on the doctor, which is where he remained. Hie eyes slowly closed as his free hand continued to cover the wound.