“What do you mean, Ma?”
“Are you still seeing that—uh—woman over at the saloon?”
“Only in a matter of speaking. Mary Lou Culpepper is a good woman, but she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
“Surely she doesn’t think she is better than you?” Kathleen asked.
“No, Ma, it’s just the opposite. She doesn’t think she is good enough for me.”
“Well, who am I to judge?” Kathleen said. “After your father died, it was quite a struggle keeping food in our mouths and a roof over our heads. If I hadn’t managed to make a go of the restaurant and boardinghouse, who knows what I would have done?”
“You’ve done well, Ma,” Lenny said. “We never went hungry, and you even found enough money to pay for my piano lessons.”
Kathleen smiled, and put her hand on her son’s cheek. “You think it is important that you help this man the marshal has in jail, do you?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do,” Lenny replied.
“All right. I’ll go over to David’s office now, and ask him to step down to the jailhouse to take a look at your friend.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
The lettering printed on the side of the doctor’s medical bag read: DAVID URBAN, M.D. He set it on the edge of Deputy Wilson’s desk.
“What are you doin’ here?” Wilson asked.
“I’ve come to have a look at your prisoner,” Dr. Urban replied.
Wilson shook his head. “Huh-uh, no, you don’t. I ain’t been authorized to pay you nothin’.”
“I’m not asking for any money, Deputy. All I’m asking is that you let me see your prisoner.”
“I can’t let him out of the cell—you’ll have to stay in there with him. And he’s a dangerous man, seein’ as he’s already killed one man.”
“That’s all right. I’ll take my chances with him. And I can work as well inside the cell as outside,” Dr. Urban said.
“I’ll take you back there and let you in, but I’m going to have to lock the door behind you.”
“I understand.”
Pearlie was lying on the bunk when the three men approached his cell.
“Pearlie, I brought the doctor,” Lenny said.
Pearlie sat up. “Good for you. I appreciate that.”
Wilson put the key in the cell door, but before he turned it, he looked over at Pearlie. “Don’t you get up off that cot till these folks is inside and I’ve locked the door behind ’em.”
Pearlie didn’t answer, but neither did he make an attempt to get up. Wilson opened the cell door, held it for a moment, then slammed it shut behind Lenny and Dr. Urban.
“When you are ready to come out, just let me know,” he said.
“I’m ready to come out,” Pearlie said, and Lenny and Dr. Urban laughed.
“You’re a real funny man, ain’t you?” Wilson said with a sneer as he turned and walked back toward the front of the building.
“Let me take a look at your face,” Dr. Urban said, examining the wounds.
“How do they look?” Pearlie asked.
“Right now, it’s not a face the ladies will fall in love with,” Dr. Urban answered. “But it shouldn’t be all that hard to get the pellets out. And they are going to have to come out before they fester up on you.”
Dr. Urban searched through his bag until he found something that looked like an extended pair of tweezers. “Lenny, grab that plate that his dinner was on, and hold it while I dig these out, will you?”
“Yes, sir,” Lenny replied.
Lenny stood by, holding the plate as Dr. Urban dug each of the little balls of shot out of Pearlie’s face. As he pulled them out, he dropped the pellets into the plate. Pearlie winced with each extraction.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Urban said.
“It’s all right,” Pearlie replied.
Dr. Urban cleaned the wounds, then poured alcohol on them.
“Ouch!” Pearlie shouted.
“Sorry, but we’ve learned a lot in the last few years,” Dr. Urban said. “And one of the things we’ve learned is that alcohol helps to prevent the wounds from festering.”
“I know, and I appreciate it,” Pearlie said.
“All right, that does it,” the doc said, standing up and cleaning his own hands. “Try and keep your hands away from the wounds if you can.”
