Miles, let me look at your hand!” exclaimed Doc as I winced upon setting a cup of coffee down in front of him. “My land, Miles, that finger is festering. What did you do?”
I pulled away from him and sat down with my cup. I took a sip, then told him what happened. “I think a cactus spine worked its way through my glove and down into my skin. I can find it, and reckoned that it would eventually work its way out.”
Doc grunted, “Yeah, if it doesn’t turn to gangrene first. Molly, do you have any tweezers?”
He moved his finger over my sore one. I jerked some. “It must be small and deep, but I can feel something, but I can’t see anything. Molly, you look.”
She pulled my hand close to her face and began to search for the miniscule log that was doing all the damage. “I can’t see anything Doc.”
“Why don’t yuh peench it?” came a voice. I looked up and the whole room was watching Doc work on my finger. The voice was from a miner who was standing on a chair to watch. “Go ahead, Doc, peench it good.”
Doc turned his head toward the voice. “Not a bad idea,” he muttered. “Now hold on Miles, this could hurt.”
He pinched and pinched and he was right it did hurt. “Doc, you’re not peenchin’ it hard enough. Yuh want me to do it?”
“No! I don’t want you to do it!” he growled and with determination he pulled apart where there sore was, then pinched it for all that he was worth.
Then it happened, out of it gushed gunk and ooze and blood. “Molly, try to grab something with those tweezers. Keep trying until you pull something out,” he ordered.
She tried a couple of times then on the third try she grasped hold of a small spine and pulled it out. Small I say, it was a quarter-inch long when she laid it on the table. My finger was already feeling better with all that pressure out of me.
“Don’t stop squeezin’ Doc!” yelled the miner again. “Yuh got t’ get all that poison out.”
I looked at the crowd. Charlie was there, a couple of miners, along with a table of cowboys, even Mr. and Mrs. Polk the owner of the hardware store was watching. Marta was looking on, and even Alena came from the kitchen. I was nodding my head. “Hurry and finish up, Doc. I should have sold tickets.” That brought a smirk from Marta and an outright chuckle from Alena which made me smile.
Marta went to the kitchen to get something to wipe up the mess. I was surprised that so much could come from a cactus spine in the finger. Doc took it from her to wipe my finger first, then handed it back so she could wipe the table. “You come over to the office so I can put something on that. I’ve been reading something about antiseptics; it kills germs that cause infection.”
“Why don’t yuh jist put a dab or two of that coffee that Miles keeps on the stove on it. That’s shore ‘nough kill ’bout anything,” the voice coming from the miner who was still standing there watching, his partner having gone back to the table and his meal.
Doc, Molly, and I looked over at him at the same time. Molly laughed, but I asked, “Do I know you?”
He rubbed his hand down his whiskered face a couple of times. “Hopefully not by name for bein’ on a poster, but I did do yuh a service one time. It was over by Tincup, you were shot an’ left for dead. I cleaned up yur wound, stayed with yuh for a while until yur fever broke, then left. I don’t reckon yu’d recollect any of that.”
I touched the back of my shoulder. I remember getting shot and a man taking care of me. Never knew his name, can’t remember his face. “Why didn’t you stick around?” I questioned.
“No need to. I did my service, then went back to my claim. I saw that you’d be alright.” He turned back to his table.
I looked at Doc then over to Molly. “He still didn’t give me his name.” I got up to talk with him further and the two miners were already finished and gone with a gold nugget to pay for their meal. I came back, juggling the nugget in my hand then handed it to Molly. “This will pay for plenty of meals.”
Molly was shaking her head, Doc was scratching his ear, then rubbed his chin. “Well, he’s right about one thing. That coffee you keep on the stove will cure you or poison you to death, and you’re still living.” Marta was bringing a couple pieces of custard pie handing one to Charlie then setting the other plate down in front of me. “You finish that pie then come see me at the office.”
“I need to check on Lucas down at the jail first,” I told him.
“No, you stop by my office on the way to the jail,” he ordered, then got up to leave.
Charlie had swallowed a piece of pie, then said, “I can go check on Lucas.”
“No, I need to do it. I need to talk to him. Marta!” I hollered. “Bring me another piece of pie. I want to take it to Lucas.