Howie Uzzell watched over his gold-rimmed spectacles as the General signed the register, "Your rooms are up the stairs and to the left," he smiled and handed the men their keys.
"Where's a good place to eat?" the General said as he took his key from the clerk.
"Just down the street. Del Monico's is likely the best place in town," Uzzell smiled as he pointed in the direction in which they should walk when the left the hotel.
The General nodded and the motioned to his boys to get up to their rooms. Randall and Zachariah picked up the bags, while Clement looked around the foyer of the hotel in awe. "Come on Clem," Zachariah urged. "We can't eat until we get our stuff to the rooms," he said from part way up the stairs.
"I like this hotel," the young man smiled broadly and quickly caught up to his father and brothers as the climbed the staircase.
The General opened the door into his room, "I think I'll lay down for an hour or so before I go and eat. You boys do whatever, but mind yourselves, you hear?" he eyed his sons as they unlocked the door to their room, opposite their father's room. "We will, father," Randall said with sincerity as he handed his father his luggage. He watched his father enter his room and close the door, "I hope there's a good doctor in this town," he said looking at his two brothers. They could hear their father coughing through the door.
"He'd have to be a damn good one for pa to see him," Zachariah indicated.
"I'm beginning to think any doctor would do," Randall replied as he entered the room and placed his bags on one of the beds. "Clement, you get the cot, okay?" he smiled at his young brother who was just happy to be in the room. Clement smiled, "I like cots," he said as he plopped himself down on the cot and felt the thin mattress. He made a face, but shrugged as here wasn't much of a mattress at all. Just the same, he was happy to be in the hotel and with his brothers.
Zachariah placed his bag on the other bed, "Come on and let's go eat. I'm starving," he stated as he walked to the door.
"I want a beer!" Clement chimed.
"We are going to eat first and then find a good saloon," Randall pointed out and walked to the open door next to Zach. Clement reluctantly agreed and followed his two brothers out of the room.
The three men stopped at the front desk again, "What's best saloon in town?" Zachariah asked.
"Right over there," Howie point toward the Long Branch, across the street.
"Thanks," Zach smiled and walked with his brothers to the hotel front doors and then to Del Monico's. Randall noticed Doc's shingle swaying in the light breeze and decided that after supper he'd stop in a visit with the doctor about this father.
The three brothers entered the restaurant and took a table near the back of the room. "The food must be good," Randall noted as he looked around as the Dodge town folk enjoyed their meals.
"What can I get you?" Roy asked as he held his order slip in his hand, with the pencil poised just above.
"What have you got?" Zach asked.
"Today's special is chicken stew with dumplings," Roy stated. "We also have roast venison with potatoes," he added.
"I'll take the stew," Zachariah ordered.
"Make that two," Randall spoke. "Clement?" he looked across the table at his brother.
"Do I like chicken stew?" Clement asked awkwardly.
"You sure do," Zachariah patted his brother on the shoulder.
"I'll have the chicken stew too," the young man smiled.
Roy poured the three men coffee before he took their order to the kitchen.
Kitty placed the glass down on the little table next to the bed, "Would you like anymore ginger ale, Doc?" she asked.
Doc shook his head no, "Not right now, Kitty," he said smacking his lips not sure he was even enjoying the drink. He wasn't even sure that it was settling his stomach or making matters worse. The doctor sunk back into his pillows.
The saloon owner placed another cool cloth across the doctor's forehead. He had closed his eyes again. Kitty shook her head out of sadness, "You sure got a dose of something this time," she sighed.
"I'm not sure what the dose is," Doc muttered has he lifted his left hand with this index finger in the air to make the point. His hand dropped back to the bed.
Kitty smiled, "You just get some rest," she playfully scolded the doctor.
"Yes ma'am," Doc smiled slightly before drifting off into another deep sleep.
Kitty readjusted the sheet she had pulled over the doctor in hopes to starve the fever. Mercifully the room temperature was dropping as she hadn't fed the fire in a few hours.
The door to the office opened and Newly O'Brien stepped though, "How is he?" he asked the saloon owner as he approached the bed room.
"He's very sick, Newly," Kitty stated as she looked up from the chair next to the bed. "I'm trying to break this fever he has," she again replaced the cloth on the doctor's forehead with another one that was in the basin.
"What do you suppose happened to him?" O'Brien asked.
"I think he has just over extended himself after that outing with Fests," Kitty sighed. "And I know that Festus did everything in his power to help, but.." Kitty's voice wavered, "Doc's no spring chicken anymore," she sighed.
Newly nodded, "No, but is is a tough character," he smiled slightly. "He'll be grumpy until he's feeling better and still be grumpy," he tried to joke.
The door opened again, this time Festus Haggen steeped into the office, "I heard Doc was sick," he said as he pulled his hat off his hat and played with it in his hands.
"You heard right," Kitty stated as she left the bed room and joined Newly and Festus in the office area.
"Wall, what's wrong with him?" the hill man's voice held deep concern for his friend.
"He's got a cold or chill. I really don't know," the saloon owner shrugged her shoulders. "I think more than anything, he's just worn out," he cast a looked over her shoulder to the room.
Festus shook his head, "I could cure him, ifin he'd let me. Why ol' Wesley Haggen had a sure fire cure fer all that was ailin' a fella, or a lady," the hill man's eyes bounced back and forth from Newly's to Kitty's.
"I'm sure you o'l Wesley Haggen had a cure, but I doubt that Doc would let you near him with is," Newly stated. "Sometimes it's best to let these things take their course, and let the immune system fight it to get stronger," he then pointed out.
"The immu...what?" Festus asked.
"Never mind. Let's just see if rest and quite help Doc for now," O'Brien stated.
"I think his fever is coming down," Kitty added.
"Good. Best to keep doing what you've been doing," the young deputy urged.
Festus look betrayed, "All uncle Wesley done was to boil some water and add some pine tar, and honey. Worked like a tick," the hill man clicked his fingers to make a point.
Kitty made a sour face, "That sounds delightful," she said sarcastically.
"Wall it is!" Festus' eyebrows lifted. "It cured a whole parcel of ailments," he smiled broadly.
Newly interjected, "I can see that it might, Festus, but let's do it the medical way, first," he smiled and then winked at the saloon owner.
"Fine," the hill man muttered. "You'll see that uncle Wesley was right in the end," Festus turned to leave, just as Randall Clanton entered the office. His demeanour meant serious business. "Who's the doctor?" he asked the room.
"Doc's sick," Kitty stated.
"Is that a fact?" Randall questioned as he looked at the people in the room.