Foolish people refuse to work and almost starve. They feel it is better to be lazy and barely survive than to work hard…” –Ecclesiastes 4:5-6 (NLT)
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As I approached McGinnis, he was trying to sit up. He was bleeding in several places on the left side of his body. I couldn’t tell how serious any of them were, but I saw that he still had enough life to raise his gun. I was close to him, so I swatted his wrist knocking the gun from his hand.
“McGinnis, you’re under arrest for murder of law enforcement officers and the attempted murder of Sheriff Gold,” I bent over telling him. “Your days in Silverton are through.”
There was a sneer on his face. In all my years as a lawman, I never have figured out why some people want to meet their Maker with a sneer on their face and hate in their heart.
I heard the steps of a man approach so I stood to face him. “Uh, Marshal, yur bleedin’,” he muttered then added, “Doc’s here checkin’ on the man who was wounded from the bullet fired by the Kid.”
Two things happened, the first was that I began to feel the pain in the top of my left arm and I noticed a man cowering over in the corner. He was the other man sitting at the table. Thank the good Lord, my foolishness didn’t cause me to get shot by him. Fortunately his cowardness left me unharmed. I walked toward the man, who was holding his arms in the air as he sat on the floor.
“Get up!” I ordered.
“I’m not part of McGinnis’ crowd,” he whimpered in fear. “I was just sitting with him having a drink.”
“Get up and sit over here where I can watch you better,” I said again. He hesitated so I lifted the Greener which caused him to move quite rapidly toward the chair by the table. “Sit there!”
From the center of the room, I saw a man grab the doctor by the sleeve of his jacket and pull him in my direction. He came to me, looked at my arm, when I stopped him. “Better check on McGinnis first, this’ll keep.”
He grunted, then stooped to where McGinnis lay on the floor. I heard a groan when Doc began to remove his clothing. “Bring me a couple of lamps so I can see better!”
The man who brought Doc over went to the back of the bar where there were a couple of lamps on the counter bringing them over to the table. “Sit them there, then a couple of you men lift him onto the table. I can’t see down here on the floor.”
There was a yell from McGinnis as he was lifted, then quiet. He had passed out, which was probably good for him as Doc had to remove his clothing from his left side which was covered in blood. “I’ll have to operate here, he’s in too bad a condition to move him down to my office,” he said to no one in particular. He then looked over to the bar and asked, “Where’s the bartender? I need some hot water.”
There was no answer, so I volunteered, “I reckon he’s dead.”
The Doc looked at me in disbelief, then barked, “I need someone to get hot water for me!”
I looked at a man, “You mind helpin’ out? See what you can do in the back.”
While the doctor was discarding McGinnis’ clothing, I saw him glance at the other man on the floor. With a shake of his head he turned his attention back to McGinnis. The man brought a bucket of water from the back. “It’s not hot Doc, but it’s all I could find.”
The Doc gave out a grunt, took some bandages from his bag and began to wipe away the blood from McGinnis. “Why he has two, no three holes in him,” he muttered. “Buckshot. If they haven’t penetrated too deeply he should pull through.”
I began to feel the sting on my shoulder. I looked over at it, but couldn’t see anything with my jacket and shirt on except that it was covered with blood. I didn’t think there was anything serious. While the Doc was working on McGinnis, I went over to the man I had placed at the table next to where Doc was working. “You got a name?”
He spluttered, “Smith, John Smith”
“You want to play games, go ahead, but do you realize how many John Smiths I have encountered over the years? Now, if you want to get serious, tell me your name, if not I’ll put these cuffs on you.”
He looked at me with a crazed glare…