"Now I don't know, Matt, I jes' don't know about this," drawled a wiry character riding a mule. The man to whom he was talking, a U. S. Marshall, looked aside at him seriously and answered,
"I'm sure Clay wasn't lyin' to us when he said that Jones was headed for Reno."
"That may be so, but I think it's a long trip just on the word of a man that would sell his own ma for the right price."
"I don't like Clay any more than you do, Festus, but his hate for Jones is the only thing that's more important to him than his love for money." Festus pondered this thought for a while, nodding his head a few times to get the thought clear in his mind. Finally, when he had accepted the thought for himself, he said,
"Well, I s'pose you're right, Matt." They continued on their way until their ride was abruptly halted by a shot that issued from the surrounding rocks. The two men immediately put their spurs to their mounts and sprinted away from the scene. After several minutes they reined in their horses and looked back over their shoulders for any sign of pursuit.
"Phewee, Matt, that was a close one," commented Festus, wiping his face with his arm. He turned to look at his friend, and his relief vanished to be replaced by concern. The marshall was bent over his saddle, left hand holding a soggy mess on his right shoulder. Festus didn't have to see the reddish color to know what was the matter. He jumped off his mule and hurried to the marshall's side, slowly helping him off his horse and to the ground.
"How bad is it, Matt?" asked Festus anxiously. Matt grimaced and replied,
"Bad enough." Festus ripped open his shirt, causing Matt to groan in pain. After examining the wound thoroughly, Festus shook his head and announced,
"Ye're gonna need a doctor as quick as we can find one." Matt exhaled heavily and said,
"I don't think I can stay on a horse." Without a pause, Festus answered,
"Well I ain't jes' gonna leave you to stay on by yerself. I'll be right beside ya jes' makin' mighty sure that ya don't fall off." Matt, too weak to protest, nodded feebly and allowed Festus to help him back onto his horse.
They had ridden for several miles before they saw any signs of life. Finally, a building came into sight, and as they rode closer they could see that it was an imposing building, quite out of place out in the middle of nowhere. Someone was working out in the pasture, mending a fence, and he looked up as Festus and Matt rode up.
"Howdy strangers," he greeted. His great size seemed to contradict his friendly nature, but Festus didn't ponder this too long.
"My friend here got himself shot and needs a doctor mighty bad. You wouldn't happen to have one handy, would ya?" The big man donned a face full of concern and replied,
"Well, no, I'm afraid we don't, but bring him on up to the house and my Pa will take care of him while I send Little Joe for the doc." Gratefully, Festus followed the stranger, still supporting Matt.
When they reached the house, the big man hurried in and brought out an older man whom Festus assumed must be his father, as well as a younger man who must be the aforementioned Little Joe. Both newcomers quickly approached Festus and Matt and helped the wounded man down. The father passed his share off to Hoss and let the two brothers carry Matt in while he stayed outside to talk to Festus.
"My name's Ben Cartwright," he introduced himself while shaking Festus' hand.
"I'm Festus," answered the deputy, still sending anxious glances up at the house. Ben noticed his curiosity and graciously said,
"I'll want to hear your story sometime, but I'm sure at the moment you must be worn out from your trip. Please come inside and make yourself comfortable while we wait for the doctor."
"Thank ya kindly. I was hopin' you'd make that offer." Ben smiled kindly and placed a hand on Festus' shoulder as they walked towards the house.