Painting for Your Britches, Episode #2 by Diana L. Perce…alias…Dee Grainger….No copyright infringement intended….

It was a bright sunny morning when the marshal of Dodge City made his way down the street chatting with the merchants who were opening up their businesses for the day. Saturday's were always busy and this one was most likely to be as well. The marshal tips his hat as he walks by the mercantile where the proprietor Henry Thompson was busy arranging mops and brooms along the store front. "Morning, Henry." Henry smiles, "Morning Marshal Dillon. I got a new shipment of men's clothing in yesterday. Maybe you'd like to look. I thought I'd give away a free pound of coffee to those fella's who buy both a shirt and pair of trousers. Be obliged if ya passed the word along, sir." Marshal Dillon grins, "I'll do that, Henry. Take a look, I mean. Don't think I'll be much help as a sales promoter to ya though. But I'm headed to the Long Branch to have coffee with Miss Kitty and Doc, guess I could tell them about it." Henry smiles, "Thanks, sir. Much obliged." The marshal says, "I'll stop by later, see ya." He proceeds on down the street.

Later as he's visiting with Miss Kitty and Doc over coffee, Chester walks in and sits down beside him. "Henry's got him one hum dinger of a sale, Mr. Dillon. Sure wish I could afford a set of them clothes he's selling." Doc shakes his head, "That outfit you're wearing would be like new if ya got them laundered. Is that all the garments ya own?" Chester frowns, "I got a couple other shirts still yet pretty good shape. Trousers though are full of holes. I ain't very good at fixin' holes. Besides my best pair you tore the one pant leg clear to the knee when ya patched me up." Doc sputters, "That was last year. Ya ain't had any new britches since then?" Chester looks at him, "No. Can't afford new stuff on what measly pay I get." Marshal Dillon speaks up, "I told Henry I'd look at his clothes. You and I could pick us out a new set. Guess I could find something extra for you to do to pay for 'em." Chester grins, "Thank you, Mr. Dillon. What kind a extra work?" The marshal answers. "Thought maybe the jail could use a new coat of paint. Think I'll buy some paint from Henry." Miss Kitty is listening to all this talk about new clothes, "You boys get your new duds. I'll treat you a steak dinner at Delmonico's." They thought that was a grand idea. Miss Kitty invited Doc to come with them.

That night after enjoying a nice meal amongst friends, they walk down the street toward the Long Branch. Chester lingers back a bit as his limp tends to slow him down. In the shadows of an alley way, a stranger lurks hoping to get a shot at the lawman in the group. He's a drifter once confronted by the marshal for skipping out on paying a bar tab. Not a violent crime but the man had bitter thoughts toward the marshal nevertheless. A shot is fired. Marshal Dillon yells to his friends, "Take cover." Chester hurries to get out of the street at the same time the marshal and the drifter exchange fire. Marshal Dillon brings the man down, but the bullet meant for the marshal hit poor Chester in the leg. Chester yells and stumbles onto the board walk nearby. Doc Adams and Miss Kitty go to his rescue. Miss Kitty yells, "Mat, Chester took a bullet in the leg. Are you okay?" The marshal says, "I'm fine, but this fella's not so lucky." He shakes his head and motions at a few men on the street to come his way, "Help get Chester up to Doc's office and this other fella to the under taker. Thanks boys." Kitty walks up to the marshal. "Mat, looks like you need a drink. Now, don't you worry, Doc will fix Chester's leg." Marshal Dillon wipes his face, "Yeah, I could use a drink. Glad Chester will be okay. Don't know what I'd do without him. Guess painting the jail will have to wait." The two walk into the saloon.

The next day, Chester is in the marshal's office, hobbling around moving things away from the walls when the marshal walks in. "Chester, that job can wait. Doc told you to stay off that leg for a few days." Chester looks at him, "But, Mr. Dillon, I thought I could do what I can reach from a chair now. Later I'll do the rest of it. Doc's going to let me paint his office for another pair of new trousers when my leg heals. Ya know he ruined another pair fixing my leg?" Marshal Dillon chuckles, "I know he did. Ya know? I think I'd give up on new trousers with the kind of luck you have." Chester grins, "I ought a, that's for sure. Reckon ifin' I get another pair I better not walk down the street with you whiles I'm a wearing 'em." Marshal Dillon shakes his head, "Could be that's what's drawing the riff raff shooting at me. I hadn't thought of that, Chester." Chester is looking very seriously at him. "I never heard of new britches bringing bad luck before." The marshal laughs, "I never did either. Well, at least we'll have lots of coffee to drink, if your plan is staying off the street. Better wear your old trousers to the outhouse. All that coffee drinking is bound to send ya there." Chester laughs, "Gee, Mr. Dillon, you're funny sometimes. I'm sure lucky when it comes to friends. New trousers ain't nearly that important." The marshal agrees. "Not much of anything more important than friends."

The marshal helps move things away from the walls. He helps get the paint supplies ready for Chester to paint the bottom part of the walls. He then starts painting the high parts himself. Before long, they both are admiring the job they did and enjoying the surroundings of a freshly painted office. Doc walks in the door. "Didn't expect this. Chester, I told you to stay off that leg." Marshal Dillon grins, "He worked from a chair, Doc. I painted the high parts. Looks different don't it." Doc scratches his head, "Mat, you never fail to amaze me. You got any fresh coffee brewed?" Chester speaks up. "That's something we have, Doc. Help yourself."

THE END