Free One More Sunrise by Al Lacy Page B

stage to a stop in front of the Wells Fargo office. He and Doke left the box and moved earthward. At the same time, the six passengers climbed out of the coach, looking across the street at the Meadowlark Café. One of the men was telling the others how good the food was there.
    The same man looked at Buck and Doke with a smile. “Yougentlemen going to join us across the street?”
    “We sure are,” replied Buck. “You all go ahead. We have to let our agent know we’re here, in case he hasn’t seen us. Doke and I will be with you shortly.”
    The group of four men and two women hurried across the street between traffic while Buck told Doke to wait there; he would be right back. Buck dashed into the office, greeted the agent, and advised him that all was well.
    While Buck was in the office, Doke stood at the edge of the street, looking first to the north, then to the south. Suddenly he caught sight of a man standing in the shade of the boardwalk’s slanted roof, waving his hat and motioning to him. Doke focused on him.
    It was Tag Moran!
    Doke nodded to Tag that he saw him, then heard Buck coming out of the office.
    Buck drew up beside him. “Okay, hungry man, let’s get over there where the food is!”
    Doke noticed Tag step back between two buildings. “Ah … tell you what, Buck,” he said gesturing southward. “I just saw somebody I know down there a ways. I really should at least go say howdy. You go on, and I’ll be there in a few minutes. Order me a sixteen-ounce steak medium well with all the trimmings.”
    Buck glanced the direction Doke had pointed, seeing people moving up and down the boardwalk. “Okay. Medium well. Coffee black and steaming hot.”
    “You got it.”
    As Buck weaved his way between vehicles and riders on horseback toward the café, Doke stepped into the street so he could hurry toward Tag without interruption. Tag moved back into sight and waved.
    When Doke reached him, he excused himself as he crossed the boardwalk in front of an elderly couple, and joined Tag between the buildings.
    Smiling, Doke said, “I didn’t expect to see you, Tag.”
    “I had to find out about Darryl.”
    Doke felt the mask of gloom come over his face. “He—he didn’t make it, Tag. I’m sorry.”
    Tag’s features slacked. “He’s dead?”
    “Yeah. I talked to Buck Cummons, my driver, into letting me take Darryl’s horse and hurry him to the nearest doctor, which was in Cheyenne.”
    Tag nodded silently, pain showing in his eyes.
    “I asked on the street in Cheyenne which doctor I should take my wounded friend to, and they told me about a father-son practice, so I went there. The father wasn’t there, but the son, Dr. Dane Logan, was in the office. Darryl died shortly after the doctor went to work on him.”
    Tag’s jaw stiffened. “You didn’t tell that doc Darryl was an outlaw, did you?”
    “I had to, Tag. With that slug in his back, the doctor wanted to know how it happened. My face is known in Cheyenne from being on the stage that stops there. I didn’t dare lie about it, so I told him, explaining that I was the shotgunner on the stage, but I didn’t let on that I knew Darryl.”
    Tag’s cheeks were now dead white and his eyes had turned the color of slate. “Maybe that doc let Darryl die because he was an outlaw.”
    “Oh no, Tag. Darryl was almost dead when I carried him into Dr. Logan’s office. He had lost a lot of blood. The doctor was starting to dig the slug out when Darryl died.”
    Tag ground his teeth, wondering if the doctor was really putting on an act by starting to go after the slug, and would have let Darryl die in order to rid the world of one more outlaw.
    But he said no more.
    Tag let the sadness he felt over Darryl’s death surface. “Well, thank you, Doke, for trying to save my baby brother’s life.”
    Doke laid a hand on Tag’s shoulder. “May I remind you of that day when you dived into the dangerous North Platte River and risked your life to save