“Thanks. If this doesn’t pan out, I may be around.”
The cattle buyer left and Doc Baldridge, without looking up from his book, spoke softly.
“Keep away from Titzell. He’s poison.”
Slim smiled and gave no sign that he had heard the warning from the doctor. He had already put the suave Titzell down as a dangerous man.
It was nearly one o’clock when Adam Marks opened his eyes. His fever had dropped and his mind seemed clear. Slim spoke to the doctor, who shut his book and went to the cot.
“How about it, doc?” asked the cattleman.
“You’re too tough for one rifle bullet to kill,” replied the doctor, “but you’re going to be laid up for a few days. What happened?”
“Bushwhacked,” was the slow reply. “It was almost dark and just at the mouth of Wolf coulee. The first shot missed me. I started for my gun but the second one got me. How’d I get here?”
“The team brought you in. They must have run all of the way. Good thing they did.”
“This will leave the boys at the ranch in a tough spot,” said Marks.