So don’t be too good or too wise! Why destroy yourself? On the other hand, don’t be too wicked either–don’t be a fool! Why should you die before your time?” –Ecclesiastes 7:16-17(NLT)
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The heavy snow never came but there had been a light, cold snow for two days. We arrived in Durango right after dusk the second day. I stopped immediately at Doc Jones office. The man that I was told was Davy Logan, was as pale as the snow that dusted his coat. He looked more dead than alive, but he wasn’t stiff. I untied Billy Blackhand so he could help me get him off his horse and into Doc’s. I’ll give that young buck credit, he didn’t whimper or cry out the whole way. That busted up arm must of hurt something fierce.
I didn’t bother knocking, but turned the knob on the door and kicked it open. I just hoped Doc was in.
There was a short scream. “My land! Oh, what do we have here?” Edith came to her wits.
“Where’s Doc, this man’s bad hurt.”
“What? What is it? Miles, is that you?” I heard a voice coming from the other room. “You gave Edith quite a scare, say… Well, bring him in and lay him on the table.”
When we placed Davy Logan on the table, he groaned. That was the first sound he had made. Perhaps it was because it shifted his arm into a different position. I had tied it tight against his chest, but didn’t know what to do about the bone. I covered it the best I could and had to use a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. I did my best to loosen it from time to time, but with the looks of that bone sticking out I don’t think he’d be able to keep that arm anyway.
“Sit down out there!” I ordered Blackhand. I went out to the office and this time I used my handcuffs and hooked him to a chair. He could escape, but he’d have to drag that chair with him. I just hoped that he honored his friendship with Logan enough to stay put.
Going back into the operating room, I saw Edith helping Doc remove the Indian’s bandages. “Miles, hold him while I cut this off….” Then he muttered something I couldn’t make out and was shaking his head. When they finally cut off my makeshift bandage off his arm and cut off his shirt, Doc looked at the wrist, the hand dangling there, the fingers white the blood having drained from them. “My, my…” he muttered. “He’s more dead than alive. You were smart Miles to use the tourniquet. I couldn’t have saved his arm, but he might live, but he’s going to be in a lot of pain.”
He looked at Edith, who had turned some pale herself at the sight. “Miles and I can handle this. Why don’t you go tell Molly that he’s back in town.”
An hour later Davy Logan laid in the bed unconscious, missing his arm from the elbow down. Molly had sent someone up to the jail, but when they tried to take Blackhand he put up a scuffle. I had to leave Doc for a moment to tell Lucas to let him stay. He told me that they had taken Hawk up to the cabin, fed and rubbed him down, and the other two horses over to the livery.
We left Davy lying there, sleeping, more dead than alive. Doc joined me with Billy Blackhand. “Your friend is in bad shape. There’s a good chance he might die,” Doc explained to him, and when he said that Billy glared at me with vengeance in his eyes. “Miles, why don’t you get your prisoner fed and taken up to the jail.”
“No! I will stay with my friend!” I looked at Doc who gave his head a slight shake.
“There’s nothing you can do for him. Tell you what. You eat, get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see that the Marshal, uh, Ranger brings you down in the morning. Don’t worry I’ll be with him through the night.”
He wasn’t happy but he acquiesced and went peacefully. It was cold, with a few flakes still falling. I thanked the Lord as we started walking for holding off the storm. “Who is that you talk to?” questioned Billy when he heard me.
“I’ll tell you all about Him when I get you tucked in your cell.”
Passing by Solly Vendor’s tobacco emporium, he rushed out without a coat. “Miles, a man was asking about you. He rode a palomino…”