the sheriff, a broad-shouldered man who answered to Abraham Smith. He nodded a greeting to me.
“Pack says someone attacked ya?” he asked, his gaze also flicking to the towel bound around my arm.
I nodded. “I have a friend holding him down over by the stable,” I said. “I’ll show you.”
Wolf was still perched atop DuPont out by the stable but leaning close by his ear as though holding a clandestine conversation with him. He looked up a bit warily as we approached. Abe’s gait slowed a bit.
“Is this the man who attacked ya?” he asked.
“It is,” I said, but then noted where Abe’s gaze had landed. “The one on the bottom is, I mean.”
“Who’s the Indian?” Abe asked dubiously.
“He’s a patient of mine,” I said. “If it weren’t for him, I probably would have gotten the knife between the shoulder blades instead of getting winged.” I saw Abe’s expression lose its edge just a bit, and I relaxed. “Go ahead and get him to his feet, Wolf.”
Wolf dragged DuPont upright, still favoring the hand that had grabbed the knife. DuPont let out a low groan of pain, and I saw that his knee was no longer properly aligned, causing him to favor that leg. I restrained my natural instinct to set it at once—the man had tried to kill me, after all—but I knew I might be called upon to do so later.
Abe looked DuPont over. “Huh,” he said. “Aren’t ya the feller who came in with the Frenchman Russeau?”
DuPont remained sullenly silent.
“Well,” Abe continued. “I don’t know how things are done where ya come from, but we don’t hold with foreigners knifing the town doctor around here.” He looked down at DuPont’s leg. “What happened here?”
“I kicked his knee after he knifed me,” I said. “I believe he aimed to attack Wolf next.”
Abe frowned, but nodded. “Ya certainly did a number on him,” he said, sounding more impressed than disapproving as he looked back at me. “We’ll get him fixed up back at the jail, don’t ya worry. Russeau needs to keep a tight leash on his servant.”
I nodded in agreement and watched him take custody of DuPont. Once they’d gone some distance down the street, I turned to Wolf.
“Let me take a look at that hand,” I said.
Wolf kept his eyes on the retreating forms of DuPont and the sheriff, but held out his hand to me. Across the palm was a band of angry red flesh, an inch and a half wide, where it appeared he’d grabbed the blade of the knife.
“No blistering,” I said, “But it burned you pretty good, looks like.”
“It’ll heal,” he grunted. “It’ll just hurt like the dickens in the meantime.”
“And that was the same knife he’d stabbed you with?” I asked.
“Yup.”
“Why silver?” I asked.
He finally looked over at me, but initially said nothing.
“You can tell me while I get that hand wrapped up… and you can tell me what you were looking for.” I glanced back at the Lucky Lady. “And I thought you said he wasn’t active in the daytime.”
“I said he tended to be up and about at night,” he corrected me. “Ain’t nothing keeps him from walking around in the sunlight, except he’s less powerful then.”
I sighed; more riddles and hints and no straight answers. “You can give me the details back home.”
***
As it turned out, the burn on Wolf’s hand was already subsiding by the time we got back to my clinic. I treated it anyway, because a burn was a burn, regardless of the cause or the recipient.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” I asked as I worked.
“Not exactly,” he said. “No pine boxes, but I did find a bit of dirt scattered in the luggage compartment and across the top of the carriage.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means DuPont’s already moved them.” He grinned wolfishly. “Fortunately, he and I had a nice little chat while ya were getting help.”
“Find anything out?”
He nodded. “It looked like they were lugging six
“Pack says someone attacked ya?” he asked, his gaze also flicking to the towel bound around my arm.
I nodded. “I have a friend holding him down over by the stable,” I said. “I’ll show you.”
Wolf was still perched atop DuPont out by the stable but leaning close by his ear as though holding a clandestine conversation with him. He looked up a bit warily as we approached. Abe’s gait slowed a bit.
“Is this the man who attacked ya?” he asked.
“It is,” I said, but then noted where Abe’s gaze had landed. “The one on the bottom is, I mean.”
“Who’s the Indian?” Abe asked dubiously.
“He’s a patient of mine,” I said. “If it weren’t for him, I probably would have gotten the knife between the shoulder blades instead of getting winged.” I saw Abe’s expression lose its edge just a bit, and I relaxed. “Go ahead and get him to his feet, Wolf.”
Wolf dragged DuPont upright, still favoring the hand that had grabbed the knife. DuPont let out a low groan of pain, and I saw that his knee was no longer properly aligned, causing him to favor that leg. I restrained my natural instinct to set it at once—the man had tried to kill me, after all—but I knew I might be called upon to do so later.
Abe looked DuPont over. “Huh,” he said. “Aren’t ya the feller who came in with the Frenchman Russeau?”
DuPont remained sullenly silent.
“Well,” Abe continued. “I don’t know how things are done where ya come from, but we don’t hold with foreigners knifing the town doctor around here.” He looked down at DuPont’s leg. “What happened here?”
“I kicked his knee after he knifed me,” I said. “I believe he aimed to attack Wolf next.”
Abe frowned, but nodded. “Ya certainly did a number on him,” he said, sounding more impressed than disapproving as he looked back at me. “We’ll get him fixed up back at the jail, don’t ya worry. Russeau needs to keep a tight leash on his servant.”
I nodded in agreement and watched him take custody of DuPont. Once they’d gone some distance down the street, I turned to Wolf.
“Let me take a look at that hand,” I said.
Wolf kept his eyes on the retreating forms of DuPont and the sheriff, but held out his hand to me. Across the palm was a band of angry red flesh, an inch and a half wide, where it appeared he’d grabbed the blade of the knife.
“No blistering,” I said, “But it burned you pretty good, looks like.”
“It’ll heal,” he grunted. “It’ll just hurt like the dickens in the meantime.”
“And that was the same knife he’d stabbed you with?” I asked.
“Yup.”
“Why silver?” I asked.
He finally looked over at me, but initially said nothing.
“You can tell me while I get that hand wrapped up… and you can tell me what you were looking for.” I glanced back at the Lucky Lady. “And I thought you said he wasn’t active in the daytime.”
“I said he tended to be up and about at night,” he corrected me. “Ain’t nothing keeps him from walking around in the sunlight, except he’s less powerful then.”
I sighed; more riddles and hints and no straight answers. “You can give me the details back home.”
***
As it turned out, the burn on Wolf’s hand was already subsiding by the time we got back to my clinic. I treated it anyway, because a burn was a burn, regardless of the cause or the recipient.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” I asked as I worked.
“Not exactly,” he said. “No pine boxes, but I did find a bit of dirt scattered in the luggage compartment and across the top of the carriage.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means DuPont’s already moved them.” He grinned wolfishly. “Fortunately, he and I had a nice little chat while ya were getting help.”
“Find anything out?”
He nodded. “It looked like they were lugging six
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