Free Blood on Mcallister by Matt Chisholm

off the man’s bandanna, tied it around the leg and twisted it tight. The flow of blood stopped almost immediately. He was still holding the tourniquet when the doctor came in. He was a young man with a busy air. As he got busy on the wounded men, Rosa led McAllister to a chair and sat him down. He had never been more thankful to sit. He felt terrible.
    Krantz came over and said: ‘You all right, boy?’
    â€˜Sure.’
    Rosa said: ‘You don’t look all right.’
    â€˜You hit?’ Krantz asked.
    â€˜No. But I think one of them opened an old wound when he kicked me,’ McAllister said.
    Rosa made him strip off his vest and shirt and, as he had feared, his side was all bloody where the kick had opened the knife wound. The woman drew her breath in through her teeth at the terrible sight.
    Krantz said: ‘That don’t look so old to me.’
    â€˜Been there a day or two,’ McAllister admitted.
    â€˜You’re a boy for punishment,’ Krantz remarked.
    â€˜It’s time you grew up,’ Rosa said tersely.
    â€˜Maybe you have somethin’ there,’ McAllister admitted.
    When the doctor had finished with the two wounded men, he came over and looked at McAllister. He pulled a face when he saw the wound and declared that a couple of the stitches had been broken open.
    â€˜You’ll have to take care of that or you’ll be in trouble,’ he declared. He cleaned the wound carefully and repaired the damage. ‘I want to see that tomorrow. Take it easy. The flesh is all churned up and it could become a mess. Go home now and get some rest. The less you move, the better.’
    He packed his bag and walked out.
    Krantz said: ‘You know what you just did? You just put the local champion out of action?’
    â€˜The damn fool didn’t give me any choice,’ McAllister said.
    â€˜Tell that to the men who have money on him,’ Krantzsaid. ‘Half the town have bet a fortune on Brenell. They ain’t exactly going to love you.’
    The saloon was filling with men now. They bunched down the other end of the place from McAllister and started looking toward him, murmuring among themselves. Krantz was looking troubled. Slowly, they started moving toward the three people at the table. Krantz turned to face them. A man at the back yelled: ‘A rope’s too good for this bastard.’ A shout went up. Another bellowed for them to take McAllister outside and string him up now.
    Krantz held up his hands and shouted for them to quieten down, but their ire was up now and they bawled back at him. A big fellow strode forward and thrust his face into the sheriff’s and told him: ‘You stay outa this, Krantz. This ain’t no affair of yourn.’ Another man pushed forward out of the crowd, gun in hand. It waved around all over the place so that both Krantz and McAllister at once had the jitters.
    Mart snapped: ‘Put that fool gun away.’
    The man yelled back: ‘I’ll put it away when there’s a rope around this man’s neck. He’s been paid to put Clem outa action. Can’t you see it’s a put-up job? Clem knowed he’d been brought in to do a job. Now he’s done it.’
    Mart said: ‘McAllister’s a friend of mine. He wasn’t brought in to do anything.’
    â€˜Then why’d he come here?’
    â€˜It’s a free country.’
    â€˜Not to go around shootin’ folks regardless. Christ, sheriff, it stands out a mile. Clem caught this jasper skulkin’ around on Double B range. He warned him off. Him and Mr. Brenell knew McAllister was a gun-hand at first sight. It stands outa mile.’
    McAllister stood up.
    â€˜Stay away from me,’ he said.
    Hastily, Mart Krantz said: ‘Take it easy, Rem. I’ll sort this out.’
    Another man thrust forward. ‘You ain’t goin’ to sort any-thin’ out, Krantz. This boy’s ours. Hank, you got the