Just a short chapter to keep things moving while the rest of the story settles into place.

Chapter Thirteen: Trouble on the Trail

Matt rode north out of town into the darkness. To his left the moon was a tiny crescent with a bright star hanging right above it. He and Buck knew this road well, and he watched as best as he could for movement or shapes along the sides, but when he did come on them, about an hour north of Dodge, it was obvious that they were in trouble. Frank Reardon lay face down in the road, one hand still holding the reins of a line of horses. His big Appaloosa was first, and seemed almost to be standing guard over his body. Tied one after another behind the mare were two horses with bodies draped across the saddles and leading reins tied each to the saddle horn of the horse in front.

"Damn." Matt said quietly, swinging down and leaving Buck ground tied behind him. He knelt next to Frank's body and turned him gently over. It was hard to tell without a light but there seemed to be two bullet wounds, one in his lower leg and another in his left shoulder. He had just finished tying up the leg wound as tightly as he could when he heard Frank's voice, soft and a little thready, in the darkness, "I knew you'd come for me, Matt. Knew if I kept to the road you'd find me."

Matt leaned anxiously over his friend, "Can you tell me what happened, Frank?"

"Rescue." Frank murmured, "Those two bushwhacked us about twenty miles back. They cut Marlow free. You got any water, Matt?"

Dillon fetched his bedroll and a canteen from his saddle and held Frank up in his arms to drink, then laid him back on the ground with the bedroll propping up his head. "Who shot you, Frank?" Matt asked.

"Marlow," the sheriff replied, "He got clean away, and then came back to shoot me." His weak voice was querulous, "What kind of a fool would do that, Matt? Came back to brag and threaten, Matt. Can you believe it?"

"How bad are you, Frank, can you ride?"

"Sorry, Matt." Frank's voice was shaky, "I stayed on as long as I could. You leave me here and go on back. Son of a bitch is heading for Dodge and he's after Kitty."

That set the Marshal back on his heels, but he shook his head, "Kitty's about as well-protected right now as anyone could be, Frank. We need to get you to Doc." Matt stood and led Buck around to the mare's right side. He took the reins from Frank's hand and tied them to his own saddle, then slowly lifted Frank onto his feet. "Lord, Frank, you don't get any lighter as the years go by, do ya?" Matt huffed, but he managed to get him up into Buck's saddle. "Hold onto the horn there, Frank. Stay with me just another minute or two." Matt mounted up behind him, and settled the other man back against him. He wrapped both his arms around Frank to keep him in the saddle, holding the reins in front of him in his left hand. Slowly, they started back for Dodge, the string of horses falling in placidly behind.

Frank drifted in and out of consciousness as they rode slowly along. Matt pieced the story together from the words and phrases and cussing he let out. Two riders had ambushed the sheriff and his prisoner when they were stopped at midday to rest their horses. Marlow had been both handcuffed and tied to a tree. Frank had been bending over the coffeepot when a rifle had suddenly appeared next to his ear. Seated on the ground, and relieved of his gun, Frank had listened as the two rescuers had refused to untie Marlow until he told them where the gold was hidden. There'd been some argument. Eventually Marlow had given in and mentioned a site that apparently all three knew. Relations had become more cordial. One of the men had found the key to Marlow's handcuffs in Frank's pocket, untied the ropes, and set him loose. The first thing Marlow had done was pull a pistol from the man's holster and shoot both him and his partner. By that time, however, Reardon had rolled behind the horses and pulled a rifle from his saddle boot, aiming it straight over the saddle at Marlow's heart. It had been a standoff that Reardon, the large horse shielding his body, had won.

Frank was leaning most of his weight back against Matt's chest now, head resting on his shoulder, but seemed fairly steady in the saddle. "Thought for a minute there, Matt, he was gonna shoot Susan."

"Susan?" Matt repeated, and heard a whinny from his right in response. "Oh. Susan."

"You remember Susan, Matt," Frank gave a chuckle that ended in a wheeze, "That rancher's girl down Taos way? Dark hair and all them big freckles?"

"Guess you saw more of those freckles than I did, Frank," Matt replied.

"Guess I did, Matt." Frank was quiet a while, "We 'most there, Matt?"

""bout halfway, cowboy." Matt replied, not willing to lie to him, "But you're gonna make it. Don't need to stay awake, Frank, I've got you nice and tight."

"Don't let that bastard hurt Kitty, Matt." Frank told him faintly, and then his head lolled back against Matt and his body went loose in the saddle. Matt tightened his grip around Frank's unconscious body. He could feel a wetness on his own right shoulder that told him Frank's wound was bleeding again, but there was nothing he could do but continue their slow walk towards Dodge.

OoOoO

It was Chester, at the top of the stairs, who spotted the big gelding leading a line of horses down Front Street and shouted for help, but it was Thaddeus Jones at the foot of the stairs who helped the Marshal lift down Sheriff Reardon's body. By that time there were more men on the street, and they managed to carry him up the stairs to Doc's office. Matt halted on the bottom stair before going up, "Chester? Jones? You boys keep up this watch. Marlow is loose and we think he's heading for Dodge."

"Forevermore, Mr. Dillon, why would he do that?" Chester queried him, "Seems to me like he'd be heading out as far away from Dodge as he could."

"Seems like that to me, too, Chester, but he told Sheriff Reardon that he was on his way in to do some harm to Kitty." Matt said. He felt both of the men bristle at that.

"Well you just don't worry yourself about that, Mr. Dillon," Chester said, "We got a good watch goin' front and back."

"Who's in back, Chester?" the Marshal asked, but it was Jones who answered, "My partner's back there with Deputy Farris, Marshal Dillon. We'll make sure nobody gets near Doc's office."

"Chester, get some of the local men to take those bodies on over to Percy's and ask them to see to the horses. Buck's done a long ride with a double load."

"I'll do that, Mr. Dillon." Chester replied.

Matt nodded and headed up the steps and through the door. Doc had Frank laying back on his operating table, his shirt already off and Ma Smalley was cutting through the tough fabric of his pants leg with a scalpel. Matt went to remove Frank's boots and set them standing upright in the corner. "How's he doing, Doc?" he asked.

"Well, he's still breathing and his heart's still beating," was Doc's only reply. That much Matt knew already, he'd counted those breaths and heartbeats, his hand tight over Frank's chest, for the last half hour.

"Can I help here, Doc?" Matt asked.

Doc started to shake his head and then stopped. "You better stick around until I get this bullet out, Matt. He's out like a light right now, but if he comes around I'll need someone your size to hold him."

"I'll stay as long as you need me, Doc," Matt said, "And then I'm going to go see to those two dead men, and wake up Judge Beck. Doesn't look like we'll be having a trial tomorrow after all."

It was half an hour before Doc finished with Frank's shoulder and began on his leg, and the sheriff didn't regain consciousness at any point. When Doc dismissed him, Matt checked the guards again, finding big Emil Wohlheter at the head of the stairs and Moss Gimmick at the bottom. Clem from the Long Branch wielded a shotgun under Doc's window in company with one of Ed Bauer's cowboys.

Judge Beck was not thrilled to be awakened at three in the morning, but he agreed to the necessity when Matt explained the circumstances as he knew them. "I'm not sure what happened next, Judge, but apparently Marlow got away while Sheriff Reardon was loading the bodies onto the horses. Frank said he got clean away and then came back and shot him, may have thought he'd killed him because the bullet in his shoulder tumbled him off his horse."

"But Marlow didn't stop to check?" the Judge said.

"Seems not," Matt agreed. "Not a very careful man."

"And he actually told Sheriff Reardon he was headed back to Dodge?" Beck asked.

"That's what Frank said before he passed out. Said Marlow was bragging he would get to Kitty at the Long Branch and no one was going to stop him." Matt shook his head, "Doesn't make much sense to me, Judge, but I think we need to keep close watch on her until Marlow's apprehended."

"I'll need to talk to Sheriff Reardon as soon as I can, Marshall Dillon," said the Judge. "If he can swear to Marlow gunning down those two men in cold blood, then there's no use bothering with the manslaughter trial. We'll have a murder charge that's dead easy to prove."

Dead easy, Matt thought, and no justice even attempted for poor little Ellie. Oh well, you can only hang a man once.