Even as Slim came galloping into town, he heard an eruption of shots, and it froze his blood. Where there were shots, Jess was probably in the midst of them, and more often than not he was the target for one. Slim was just putting his spurs even harder to his mount when he heard a boy cry out,
"Help, Mister! Oh, please help!" Any other time, in such a desperate hurry to find Jess, Slim would have looked aside at the boy as he swept by and wondered vaguely what he wanted. But when his eyes landed on the boy in the doorway, his heart jumped into his throat, for he could have sworn he was looking at his own little brother, Andy. There was nothing for him to do but haul back on the reins and bring his horse to a sudden stop.
Jumping down from his horse even before he was completely still, Slim hurried towards the boy, and as he came closer he saw the tears in the boy's frightened eyes. "What's the matter, Boy?" He asked as he placed steadying hands on the boy's shoulders.
"Oh Mister," the boy cried in a breaking voice, "My Pa's out there, maybe gettin' shot at, but there's someone inside here who's dying, and I don't know what to do!" Once he'd got the words out, the boy broke down, but Slim had already moved him aside and was rushing into the building. He'd seen the wanted poster at home, the one with Jess's face on it, and the amount of money printed beneath it was enough to tempt the whole country. He'd had a feeling ever since he left that Jess was in trouble, deep trouble, and the sinking feeling in his stomach that had been growing through the whole trip now plummeted the rest of the way down as his imagination placed Jess in the position of the dying man. Trying to calm himself as he searched through the empty shop, he breathed deeply and reminded himself that lots of other men got hurt, not just Jess Harper. It just happened that Jess seemed to attract trouble more than others.
Even as he was telling himself this, he pushed a wooden box aside, and a body slumped to the floor. His heart stilled.
"Jess," he let out, sounding almost like a groan. He dropped to his knees beside his partner. Jess certainly looked lifeless, lying on the ground with his limbs thrown out in unnatural angles. For just a moment, Slim feared to touch him, feared that he would find that it was too late to do anything for his friend. But he was a man of action, and that moment passed quickly to be replaced with a need for urgency. He placed a trembling hand on Jess's forehead, and the heat he felt there was encouraging. He then laid his head on his partner's chest, listening for even the faintest heartbeat, and that was all he was rewarded with. Yes, Jess was alive, but just barely.
Even as Slim pulled back slowly, clenching and unclenching his jaw with concern, it seemed his presence was able to stir something inside of Jess. The wounded man's breath hitched, catching Slim's attention, and his eyelids flinched. Immediately Slim leaned closer, wishing desperately that he could will Jess back to consciousness or shake some life back into him, but all he could do was wait.
Mark had come back in by this point, wiping his red eyes and still sniffling. However, his curiosity took over as he saw Slim leaning over the body on the floor.
"How is he, Mister?" Slim looked up at the boy, once more struck by how much he resembled Andy, which influenced the way he answered without his realizing it.
"I don't know, Tiger," he answered hurriedly, before turning back to pay attention to the wounded man. Hearing the tone of familiarity in his voice, Mark cocked his head in confusion, but before he could say anything, Jess's eyelids struggled to rise, and a glimpse of the blue eyes underneath could be seen. Slim leaned even closer, forcing a tight smile for his friend.
"Jess, it's Slim," he said softly, with a note of panic undergirding the forced reassurance. Jess couldn't focus on anything, and he couldn't force any words out, though his mouth was trying. Seeing him struggle, Slim placed his hands on his partner's shoulders, trying to physically impart some of his grounding influence to Jess. Finally, Jess was able to push one word out.
"Slim." Even as he gasped out the name, the effort seemed to have exhausted his energy, and his eyelids slid closed and his labored breathing quickened. Slim's hold on his shoulder tightened.
"I'm here, Jess," he answered, still trying to reassure his partner, but feeling an overwhelming sense of fright for Jess's serious condition. He waited with concern after every wheeze, fearing that the pause that stretched out afterward might last forever.
Just then, a noise came from the door that Slim and Mark had entered. Whipping his head around, Slim was just in time to see the door kicked open and a figure in the doorway, holding a pistol.
"Hold it right there, Mister," the dark-haired man said evenly. Then, he leaned his head back out the door and called to some unknown person, "Sheriff, they're in here!" Slim only had a chance to think about reaching for his gun, but seeing the man's pistol trained on him showed that he had missed his window of opportunity. He stood slowly from Jess's side, righteous indignation beginning to ooze from his pores.
"Listen, I don't know who you are or what you want, but this man needs a doctor right now, so I'd appreciate you going to get one."
"Get your hands up!" The man barked. Slim raised his hands quickly, but a part of his mouth curved downwards and fire flew from his eyes.
"This man is dying, Mister!" The only answer he received was the cocking of the man's pistol as he walked closer.
"Probably serves him right if he does." Slim's temper was not long on the best of days, and this was certainly not the best of days. A growl erupted from his mouth as he lunged at the man. Caught by surprise, the man took a moment to react, and that was all Slim needed to knock the pistol out of his hand and throw a quick punch. It connected with the side of the man's face and caused him to stumble back a few steps, but he was ready for Slim's next blow and ducked underneath it. Slim let out a groan as the man sunk a fist into his stomach, but he straightened back up just in time to step aside as the man threw another punch.
Even as Slim was beginning to feel that he was about to end the fight in his favor, he felt his arms grabbed from behind by two pairs of strong hands. He tried to pull himself free, but both pairs of hands held on like vices. "Give it up, Son," said a mature voice tersely that sounded like it came from the man who had a hold of his right arm. Then, that same voice asked, "You all right, Joe?" The dark-haired man that Slim had been fighting was breathing heavily, but he nodded, wiped his mouth, and said,
"Yeah, Pa, I'm all right." Mark, who up until this point had kept his position beside the wounded man and watched the scene unfold before him with wide eyes, now cried out with panic,
"My Pa! Is my Pa okay?" He rushed over to grab desperately at the arm of one of the Maverick brothers. The tears that he had been trying to hold in were leaking out, so Bret leaned down and placed a hand on his, saying,
"Yeah, boy, your Pa just got nicked in the hand, but he's fine." Such joy lit up Mark's face that it seemed to light up the whole building and everyone in it.
All except one. Too preoccupied to be touched by this heartwarming scene, Slim tried to pull free again, but this time he added words to his actions.
"Look, there's a man over there that needs a doctor immediately. If you're not going to let me go, at least send for a doctor!" Little Joe, who had sufficiently recovered himself, stepped closer to Slim. Though he was staring at the restrained man with resentment, he addressed his father instead.
"Pa, that man lying over there is Jones." Hearing Jess referenced, Slim craned his head as far as it would go so that he could see the grey-haired man behind him.
"He's the man?" Ben asked incredulously.
"Yeah," Joe added. "He might not even last until we get him to the doc's place, so maybe we'd best just leave him here and let nature take its course. It's what he'd get in a trial, anyways." At this idea, Slim began to writhe furiously, trying desperately to get out of the grip that was holding him prisoner.
"You can't do that!" He shouted, straining with all of his might to get to Jess, to protect his friend from these men bent on his destruction. Every fiber inside of him cried out to overcome any odds, if only it would keep Jess safe.
Unfortunately, his efforts silenced the reply of Ben Cartwright, who would have agreed with him and rebutted Little Joe's suggestion. But with the Herculean efforts that Slim was making to escape, his attention was focused on keeping this blonde rancher in check. He finally saw that Slim was about to break free, so he nodded at the sheriff who had a hold of his other arm, and the sheriff promptly pulled out his pistol and brought it crashing down on Slim's head. The struggle ceased as Slim collapsed to the floor.
All of the men either stepped over or walked around the man on the floor as they gathered around Jess. Sheriff Coffee knelt down to ascertain the seriousness of the wanted man's conditions, although it was apparent to everyone that he was not long for this world. They could all hear the shallow gasps that were coming out in quick succession, and they could all see how white the man's face was, especially when contrasted with the dark hair that was plastered against it. After a few silent moments, the sheriff stood up and shook his head.
"Little Joe's right. He might not make it to the doctor, the shape he's in." Ben turned to him, concern clouding his face.
"We can't just let him die, Roy, even if he is a murderer. We have to do something." The sheriff nodded.
"Yeah, I suppose. We'll take him to the doc, and if he survives the trip he just might have a ghost of a chance of surviving long enough to hang." Four of the men took their positions and lifted up the dying man. They made their way to the doorway and out into the muddy street, leaving behind the abandoned building and the unconscious body of one blonde rancher.