He had to know that Raylan wouldn't. He was a shitty Marshal but a good lawman and frankly, if Martin Whitly had to take a knife to save an innocent person, truly had to, then it was for a greater good.

"Ninty eight percent of the conversations you seem to have with the man is macabre." But it was clear why. It was their normal. "Well," he started, bobbing his head thoughtfully. "He's not dead yet, right? That's promising. If he's already through surgery, that's the worst of it."

Maybe they'd all get lucky and he'd get an infection and stop being a pain in the Family's ass.

"Hold tight, darlin'. I'm on my way."