Snippet #2010208

Morgan watched Bell go, slipping the money into his pocket. Wasn't here looking for trouble, he said. Only time would tell if that was true; wasn't anything to be done about it now.

With Bell gone, Morgan had the office to himself, and he considered returning to the porch and resuming his nap, but he wasn't much in the mood to rest now. Something had put him ill at ease, and he paced the narrow space, attempting to walk out his troubles. A drink and smoke, that was what he needed. $4 would buy a man a lot of drinks, but Morgan had already wasted the better part of the day in the saloon, working his way through a significant amount of booze and quite a few cigarettes.

He caught himself wondering what the status on the outlaw was; he wondered if the marshal had chased him down and thrown him in a cell yet. Last he'd heard were a few gun shots coming from the far side of town. Maybe he oughtta go and check, just to see if things were alright. But no, that wasn't his place, and he didn't want to make it his place, either. Things had a way of working themselves out without nosy do-gooders prowling the town, shooting anything that breathed on the grounds that they might be one of the numerous outlaws they'd seen posted around town.

Still...wouldn't hurt to poke his head out the door, make sure there wasn't some sad and sorry soul bleeding all over his front porch. Picking up his Stetson from his desk, Morgan set the hat atop his head and headed outside, his eyes smarting as the bright sunlight found its way under shade of his Stetson. He scanned the street, surveying the activity through narrowed grey eyes.

Bell had disappeared from the main street, presumably into a store or saloon. There was the man he'd seen in the bar, standing a few storefronts down outside the Silver Spur. Annie was just heading into work, and Miss Bonnie was headed down the street, probably on her way to get a bite to eat. And there was Jenny, dusting her hands off and heading for Blackburn's store. Uh oh, what had she done now?

He squinted, making out the form of a man lying in the dirt. His eyes widened and he quickly snatched up his medical bag before hurrying across the street to the form of the lifeless man. "Oh hell," he murmured as he knelt beside the man, eyeing the copious amount of blood soaking his shirt. He felt for the man's pulse, but the heart had long stopped beating, and he shook his head, plucking off the man's hat and laying it over his face.

Dead bodies lying in the street- didn't that make for a nice welcome to Splitcreek!