In obvious pain and with his forehead beaded with sweat, he reached for his clothes. Refusing help, it took him a long time to get dressed. His first attempt at getting to his feet was a disaster. Randall rushed to his aid. ‘Leave me, Walter,’ Harker ordered, as he sat back down heavily on the bed. ‘You are his doctor, John,’ Randall pleaded with Thurston. ‘You must put a stop to this.’ With a negative shake of his head, Thurston explained, ‘The sheriff is simply a patient I am treating for a gunshot wound, Walter, nothing more than that. I would not take it upon myself to tell a man what or what not to do.’ ‘What I have to do is go across to the church to help Raya,’ Harker said resolutely. ‘We can’t permit you to even try such a thing,’ Henry Drake protested. ‘You had better not try to stop me, Henry,’ Harker warned. His eyes scanned the room. Then he said, ‘Pass me that broom, Wu.’ Obediently, the Chinaman fetched the soft sweeping brush with a long handle that Harker had pointed at.
