Newly got Matt up to Doc's office, just in time. The shock of the shooting finally hit the marshal and he basically collapsed onto the examination table. O'Brien sighed as he longed not to be the doctor in town and hoped that at some point someone more skilled than himself would roll into Dodge and fill in for Doctor Adams when needed. I was nice to be wanted, but he'd had his share of it over the last few days; perhaps he was just tired.
Newly pulled off is coat and hat, tossing them aside, so the could have a better look at the marshal's wound. The young deputy pulled the marshal's shirt apart, not caring about the buttons- they could easily be replaced. His prime concern was to find out what damage was done with Sloane's bullet.
Newly pulled the little table over to the examination table and spread out an assortment of tools that were in Doc's medical bag. He picked up the probe and pulled back Matt's shirt before inserting the instrument into the would. Matt flinched and groaned as he tried to remain alert. Periodically, Newly would lift hi eyes to watch the marshal before he continued to search for the bullet. O'Brien twisted his mouth as he carefully pushed the probe deeper, until he found the slug, "I found it," he smiled at the marshal. Matt slowly rolled his head forward the deputy, "Just get it out," he stated.
Newly placed the probe into the basin and then picked up the bullet extractors. He drew his breath in and used his right hand to spread the bullet wound opening a little wider so he could ease in the clamps. Carefully he guided instrument through the flesh until he felt the bullet again. It took a few seconds before he could grab the lead slung, but once he did, the pulled it free. Matt gasped in relief and then looked at Newly, "Wake me in the morning," he said before he closed his eyes.
Newly smiled and continued to clean the wound and cover it before he pulled a sheet up over the marshal. O'Brien yawned as he cleaned the instruments and wiped them dry. His next stop was the Long Branch were Kitty was caring for Sam.
By the time Newly reached the front doors of the saloon, Kitty had Sam resting his head on his crossed arms at the table, "How is he?" Newly asked.
"they hit him pretty hard," Kitty stated from where she sat watching. "The bleeding has stopped but I'm sure he's going to need a few stitches," she said flatly.
Newly nodded and placed the medical bag next to the barkeep, which caused him to stir. "The marshal's resting. I got the bullet out," O'Brien stated. He could hear Kitty sigh as he gently looked at Sam's scalp wound, "That's not too bad, Sam," he offered as encouragement.
"You should be inside my head. That will tell you how bad it feels," Noonan stated.
Newly smiled, "I bet it hurts," he said as he began to clean the gash, which caused Sam to flinch. Newly only need a few sutures to close the wound and suggested that maybe Sam remained where he was for the night. Both Kitty and Sam were all right with that suggestion, although, Kitty did suggest that the barkeep take the cot in the office, for which he was more than grateful for.
Somehow everyone knew that the coming morning was going to hold a lot of emotion. Newly used a table cloth to cover Sloane's body, after he checked to see if he was alive of dead, the later being the case.
Kitty walked to the stairs, "Thanks Newly. I'll go see Percy Crump first thing in the morning," she said weakly. "You need to try and get some sleep yourself," she added.
Newly nodded knowing truer words had never been spoken. "Good night Miss Kitty," he smiled kindly before he left the saloon. He sighed as he reached the veranda and decided that the daybed in Doc's office was likely the best place to crash for the night. The town was silent, and the only sound was that of the cold wind howling every now and again.
Dodge was slowly stirring after the long frightful night, as the lamp lighter made his way around, extinguishing each of the lights. The milkman was also making his rounds, with this wagon that had a distinctive sound. Dusk was now on the horizon and the birds were now chirping and the crows cawing.
Matt's eyes opened, and he ran his hand down his face, remembering what had happened over the past few days. He must have been exhausted as he didn't move the whole night, and now his body ached, from his head to his toes. He groaned as he sat up, sliding his legs over the side of the examination table, holing his shoulder tightly.
Newly stepped through the door into the office, having just come from the Long Branch and checking in on both Doc and Sam. Both seem to be doing fine. "Good morning, marshal," the young deputy smiled.
"Newly," Matt acknowledged. "How are Doc and Sam?" he asked.
"Doc's fine. He's beginning to get grumpy," Newly half laughed. "I recon he's on the mend," O'Brien stated as he moved further into the office, closing the door to the cold. "Sam's going to have one heck of a headache for a few days, but he'll be fit as a fiddle," he added as he took a peek at the marshal's shoulder. "A sling should do," Newly said as he fashioned a sling from a piece of material he retrieved from the dresser drawer, where he knew Doc kept such things.
Matt sat quietly waiting for Newly to finish then he looked the young man in the eyes, "Has the prisoner said anything yet?"
Newly shook his head no, "Festus says he wont talk to anyone but you," he stated.
Matt drew in a deep breath and winced, "Well, I guess I'd better find out what he wants to tell me," he said as he stood up from the examination table. His hat was on the chair next to Doc's roll-top desk, and his coat on the coat tree at the door.
"Do you want me to go with you?" Newly asked.
Matt indicated that he would go alone, "Make sure Doc doesn't get out of that bed until he's good and ready," he said as he slung his coat over his wounded shoulder and left the doctor's office.
The marshal made his way over to the jailhouse and was greeted by Festus, "Matthew? Are you sure you should be up?" he asked with concern.
"I'll be fine, Festus," he said as he placed his hat on the wooden peg at the door, and then peeled off his coat, dropping it on the end of the cot. Matt then opened the wooden door into the holding cells. Winslow sat on the edge of the cot, his head hung low, with this hands clasped between his knees. Slowly he looked up at the marshal.
Matt knew that the young man wasn't a risk to flight so he had Festus unlock the cell door, and ordered Winslow to take a seat at the desk. Matt walked around the desk and slowly sat down. He studied the prisoner and then leaned back, "You wanted to talk to me," Matt said firmly.
Winslow cleared his voice, "Yes, sir," he said looking from Matt to Festus and back again. Winslow fidgeted in the chair and picked at this grubby finger nails, again his head bowed. "I know what you must think, but you have to believe me, that this was none of my idea," Winslow declared.
Matt's eyes narrowed; "Go on," he wanted the young man to talk, as he didn't feel he wanted to sit there wasting his time.
"It was Sloane's idea. He and Jeb rode into my Pa's farm looking for fresh horses. We tried to tell them to leave, but they beat my Pa bad until he gave them the horses, and then took me along in case I told the law. They held a gun on me the whole time and threatened me every time I thought I could get away," he sighed realizing that his story must have sounded like fiction.
Matt's eyes lifted to Festus, "Have Newly come here," he stated.
"Sure thang, Matthew," the hill man said, doing a double take at Winslow before he left the office. "Sounds like a load of hogwash, ifin you ask me," Haggen grumbled as he left the jailhouse. Not another word was spoken between the marshal and Winslow.
Within a few minutes, Newly and Festus arrived at the jailhouse, "You wanted to see me, marshal? O'Brien asked.
Matt nodded, "I want you and Festus to ride out to the Winslow place on the other side of Kinsley. I want to verify his story before I take this much further," he added.
Both deputies nodded and left to get their horses. Matt stood, "Until they come back, I'll need to lock you up," he motioned. Winslow nodded and walked to the cell, pulling the door closed so that Matt could lock it. "Could I get another blanket?" he asked. Matt nodded, "I'll leave this door open as well," he said to the young man, indicating the wooden door that separated the two rooms. Matt wasn't sure what to think of Winslow's story, but it somehow seemed to fit. Maybe he was just too tired and sore. Matt walked to the cot, grabbed a blanket and handed it to Winslow through the bars. He then retreated to the cot were he too could rest.