Sloane and Winslow were now on the outskirts of Dodge, where they stopped on a small hill that over looked the town. "I've heard a lot of things about the marshal from here," Winslow stated as he pulled his coat tighter around his neck.
"So what? He doesn't scare me any. I'm too cold and hungry to worry about him right now. I feel the need for a long hot bath and a big juicy steak with eggs," Sloane said as he wiped his sleeve across his mouth. "Let's get us a room," he smiled wickedly at his partner.
"What if they recognize us?" Winslow asked with caution.
"They'll be looking for three men, and further more, with all these whiskers we have now, it will be hard for anyone to figure us out, and by the time they do, we'll be long gone. Come on, I'm half starved," Sloane growled as he gabbed his spurs into his horses flanks causing the animal to jolt forward with a quick gallop. Winslow nudge his horse and was soon not too far behind.
Matt and Festus approached the cabin with caution once they spotted Doc's buggy and an unknown horse. Matt pulled Buck to a halt and stepped down from his mount. He pulled his gun from his holster and began to look around. Festus followed suit, he too pulled his gun.
Matt carefully walked over to the saddled horse and examined it, "Festus, the saddle has blood all over it. Whoever this belongs to, must be inside with Doc," he concluded. Festus walked passed the buggy and noticed that there was also blood on the small platform behind the seat, "Thar's blood here too, Matthew," he took a closer look.
Matt stepped closer and looked at the red stain; he also noticed that the doctor's black medical bag was not in the rig. The marshal swallowed deeply as he eyed the cabin door which hung ajar. He wet his lips and neared the building; there wasn't a sound from inside. Matt motioned for Festus to get ready to enter the building.
With a quick pulled Matt yanked the door open and moved quickly inside. It was as cold in the building as it was outside; and much darker. The lawmen cautiously moved further into the one-room building. They could make out that there was something large on the old table, but the rest of the room was quite dark.
Matt stepped to the table and looked down a Jeb. He leaned forward to hear if the man was breathing, "He's dead," the marshal spoke.
Festus moved closer and almost tripped over Doc's foot, "Matthew," he said as he knelt down and pulled the blanket away from Doc's face. Matt was quick to the hill man's side as he began to look Doc over. He soon discovered the bullet hole in the doctor's side, "He's alive, but in bad shape," Matt stated. "Try and get the fire going. We need to heat this place up," he looked over his shoulder to the deputy who sprung to his feet to gather wood.
Matt continued to examine the unconscious doctor and wondered what had transpired in the cabin. The marshal pulled the blanket back over Doc and stood. He looked around and could see now that the doctor was trying to save the dead man. He looked down at the basins and doctor's bag and pondered more. He hadn't heard of anyone being shot and as far as he knew none of the bank robbers were injured. None-the-less, he had to bury the man so he set out to find a shovel, "Keep working on that fire, Festus. I'm going try and bury this man," he stated as he stepped around the table and exited the cabin.
Festus looked over his shoulder as he worked on the fire, "You ole scutter. Don't you go and die on us out here," he said with a lump in his throat. He returned his attention to the hearth and the now glowing fire.
Matt didn't find a shovel, but there were ample rocks along an old fence line that would work for a mounded grave. He went back into the cabin and hoisted the dead man off the table, and carried him out to his final resting place. Matt set to work covering the body with several layers of rocks. Festus eventually joined him and neither man said a word, but they both knew what they were thinking. They worked swiftly so that they could get back inside the cabin and try to help their friend.
"That should do for now," Matt stated as he brushed his hands together sweeping the moss and dirt off them. Festus chose the more hill man way of cleaning his hands by brushing his hands down his trousers. Festus gathered another armful of wood and brought it in with him.
The marshal and deputy walked back into the building. "Let's get Doc up to the table," Matt urged. The two lawmen then gently lifted Doc up to the table and carefully placed him down. Doc groaned.
"See if you can find a lantern," Matt said over his shoulder as he began to unbutton the doctor's shirt, which was now stain with rich blood. He'd seen plenty of bullet wounds to know this one was really bad. The lest he could do at the moment was to wad some gauze into the hole. He gently felt around the doctor's back but couldn't find an exit wound. Matt cursed under his breath.
Doc groaned again so Matt stopped what he was doing and leaned down to look at his friend, "Doc? What happened?" he placed his hand on the older man's shoulder to let him know that he was there. "Doc?"
Doc's eyes opened slightly and he rolled his head to look at the marshal, "It's bad, Matt," he said of his own wound. "Don't be moving me around too much," he swallowed. "I need water," he then stated.
Festus quickly went out to his mule and grabbed the canteen taking it back to Matt. Without a word, Matt gently lifted Doc's head and tilted the canteen enough for the doctor to get a few good sips before he indicated that he'd had enough for now.
"Doc, I need to know what to do for you," Matt said in a hushed voice.
Doc's eyes fluttered, "You're going to have to get the bullet out. It's pushing on my spine," he said thought his teeth. "You can't take me into Dodge like this. If the bullet moves, I might never walk again," he looked into Matt's eyes.
It was getting late in the day and the temperatures were dropping again. Matt straightened himself, "Festus. Go into town and get Newly and Jonas with his wagon. I'll do what I can for Doc here, but I can't remove that bullet myself," he stated.
"You betcha, Matthew," the hill man said and dashed to the door his spurs giggling all the way. As he left he stopped long enough to closed the door as tightly as he could. It was going to be a cold ride into Dodge.