There was nothing Slim and Chuck could do in the doctor’s office and they stepped outside.
“I’ll see that the team’s cared for,” said Chuck, leading the exhausted animals back toward the stable.
Slim, leaning against the hitching rail in front of the doctor’s office, stared into the blackness across Stony creek, wondering what secret it held of the attack which had struck down the cattleman. Chuck returned presently and they conversed in low tones.
“I found his rifle and revolver in the bottom of the wagon,” said Chuck. “The six gun must have fallen out of his holster. Neither one had been fired, which means he was ambushed.”
“I expected as much. The gang we’re up against doesn’t give a man a chance.”
Slim paused suddenly. Hal Titzell emerged from the doctor’s office.
“A little too early to say definitely,” replied the cattle buyer. “Adam’s been creased pretty deeply by a rifle bullet along the right side of his head. Doc thinks he may pull through but it’s going to be tough going.”
“Maybe we ought to ride outside and get a better doctor,” suggested Chuck, who had little faith in Dirty Water or anyone connected with it.
“No need to do that,” assured Titzell. “Doc Baldridge may not look like much, but when it comes to fixing up gunshot wounds he’s a marvel.”
It was evident that it would be a good many hours before Adam Marks regained consciousness and could tell what had happened, so the small group gradually dispersed leaving Slim and Chuck.
“You’d better roll in,” said Slim. “I’m going to hang around until I can find what’s happened.”
“If necessary. If the fellow that wounded him finds he didn’t do a thorough job, he may decide to sneak back and finish him.”
Chuck whistled softly. “That’s an idea. Tell you what. I’ll turn in for a few hours and then come down around two and relieve you.”
Chuck went to the hotel and Slim re-entered the doctor’s office. Doc Baldridge had drawn a chair up beside a table on which a kerosene lamp burned softly. On the cot across the room was the motionless form of the owner of the Box B.
“One of Adam’s riders?” asked the doctor.
“Nope. Just drifting and looking for a job. I’d kind of hoped to get on with the Box B.”
Doc Baldridge laid down his book and stared thoughtfully at Slim over his spectacles.