Another hour found a large group of men trailing into the town of Reno. The sun that had just appeared from behind the clouds glinted off of a sheriff's badge on one and a chess piece emblazoned on the holster of another. Most conspicuous among the group was a young dark-haired boy whose youth seemed ill-fitted to the solemnity which hung over the group.
Josh Randall watched from the window of the doctor's office as they rode up. "Group coming," he said to Gil and his ramrod. "Two of them are the same men who were in here after Harper." Rowdy whipped around to look at the room where Jess was being kept.
"They'll be coming for him," Gil said with a heavy voice. After a moment Josh narrated further.
"They're tying up in front of the sheriff's office." Both drovers fingered their pistols and came forward to see the scene for themselves. After the group had dismounted, they all walked into the office, presumably to confer with the local law.
"What are we gonna do, Boss?" Rowdy murmured aside to Gil. The trail boss opened his mouth to reply, but was beat by the bounty hunter.
"Look, that fella who was in here earlier is bringing the marshall and the deputy this way." Gil and Rowdy whipped their heads around to see what Josh was talking about. Sure enough, the dark-haired scout with the buckskin shirt was making strides in their direction, followed by a very tall man with a marshall's star and a shorter man with a dilapidated shape on his head that barely resembled a hat.
"They'll have to step over my dead body to get Jess," Rowdy growled. With a deep sigh, Gil replied,
"We might have to make a deal with them, Rowdy. We don't have enough guns to stand up against that crowd in the sheriff's office, and you know it. That scout's already said he doesn't want any harm to come to Harper, and if we take him at his word we can at least rest easy that he won't be shot in the back before getting a fair trial." Rowdy wanted to protest, and opened his mouth to do so, but he didn't have any better ideas, so he closed his mouth and clenched his jaw, unhappy with this turn of events.
By this point the three men had reached the door to the doctor's office. A knock resounded in the room, and the doctor, who had been listening quietly to the conversation inside, moved to open the door.
"Just let them in, Doc, and then you better get as far away from here as you can," Gil ordered. The doctor paused before he reached the door and answered,
"I'm a doctor, Mr. Favor, and my job is to see that no harm comes to my patients. That boy in there is still my patient, so I feel it necessary to stay and keep an eye on him." The trail boss's mouth turned up in a smile as he inclined his head towards the doctor.
Once the doctor opened the door, it revealed Flint McCullough in front of a very tall marshall and his slightly shorter deputy. "Nice to see you again, Doc," greeted Flint. The doctor stepped aside and allowed the three men to enter. "Nice to see all of you again, too," added Flint with a lighthearted smile. "This here is Marshall Dillon from Dodge City, and his deputy Festus."
"Howdy," said the Marshall in his deep voice. The other three men simply looked at him warily. No introduction was forthcoming on their part.
"They shore is the quietest bunch I ever met, Marshall," commented the deputy in what he thought was a whisper. It wasn't. A short pause ensued after his words, and then Matt Dillon decided to break the silence.
"If you're worried about your friend's safety, I can assure you that he will be safe with us until his trial. I think Flint here has already told you that."
"Yeah, he told us something like that," Rowdy snarled. Gil for the umpteenth time placed a pacifying hand on his ramrod.
"You can understand that we find it hard to believe your good intentions, Marshall, but at the moment it looks like we have no choice. There's a crowd of bounty hunters in the saloon across the street, biding their time until they make a try for our friend."
"Yeah, we saw them," Flint agreed.
"There's not enough of us to stand up to a group that size, so if you'll help us, we'll promise to give you Harper when it's all over." As these words left Gil's mouth, Rowdy jerked his head around to look at his trail boss. He didn't say anything, but his eyes held an accusation that didn't need to be spoken.
Matt sighed and a small smile stretched across his face. "We'll help you, and I'm mighty glad to have you cooperate so easily. I don't want anyone to get hurt if they don't have to."
"I'll personally guarantee that nothing will happen to Jones," added the scout. "He was a good friend of mine on the wagon train." Gil nodded, pacified for the moment, and told them all,
"Well, you'd best settle in for a little while until we find out what they're planning to do." However, they had only relaxed for a moment before Josh Randall startled them all by announcing,
"They're coming out of the saloon, and it looks like they're heading this way." All of the men in the room rose quickly, hands going to their gun belts.
"I guess this is it," sighed Matt. He started for the doorway, everyone following him. Rowdy glanced back at the door that concealed his friend, conflicted about leaving. The doctor saw his inner struggle and said,
"Go on, young man. I'll be here to keep an eye on your friend."
"Thanks, Doc," Rowdy said gratefully, then hurried to follow his trail boss out to the street and the waiting shootout. Even before the door closed behind them, the doctor opened the door to his operating room, expecting to see his patient in the same position as before. But that was not what he found at all. Instead, he found an empty bed and an equally empty room, and a soft breeze coming through the open back window.