The Saga of Miles Forrest


When we boarded in Denver, Molly asked about Trenton. “Didn’t he say he was going to be here?”
“See that gruff, old man sitting on the bench attempting to read the newspaper?”
“Did you hear anything from him when I brought him a cup of coffee?”
“Just a grunt.”
“That was Trenton.”
“He grunted ’cause he was a little disgruntled that I knew it was him. But he did a good job.”
The train ride was uneventful, in fact, right down enjoyable. As we were getting off I remarked, “See!”
“See what?” she responded.
“No trouble on this trip, well, not much anyhow. Plus we traveled all the way from Denver to Durango and nothing. No Indians, no bad men, not even a hornet to sting us.”
“What are you getting at Miles Forrest?” she asked.
“I’m a-thinkin’ that deserves some kind of pie.”
Molly arched an eyebrow and looked at me. “Oh you do, do you? What about Idaho Springs? In fact you went looking for trouble!”
She had two suitcases and I gave a nickel to one of the youngsters to take them over to the Eatery. We strolled along and stopped in at Wells Fargo to see if I had an trips scheduled. I had a message to see the boss tomorrow; something about going up to Ouray. But that was tomorrow.
I opened the door and was about to let Molly enter when my gaze took in two men sitting at different tables toward the back. There was only one table occupied besides the ones where they were sitting and it was in the front corner. I grabbed Molly and pulled her out.
“What is it?” she queried.
“Trouble, I think. Run down and get the marshal.”
I opened the door and went in and moved immediately to the other front corner. “Okay boys, what’s the set up?”
“Miles Forrest, you’re worth some money to us,” said a snarky, rat-faced looking man. “Good money, and split three ways, still good money.”
“Trouble is, there won’t be three of you sharing.” I looked at the three men. None of them were gunmen or even tough men, just dregs of evil wanting money.
The man to my right in the corner spoke. “You don’t think you can get three of us?”
“Might be hard, but I can surely get two of you. Not bad odds, one of you just might collect on that bounty.”
They might not know it, but the time for talking was over. Outnumbered three to one I figured I’d get this fandango going. I cut loose with the Greener at the rat-faced man. That one action of firing first probably saved me, for it caused them to hesitate. I pulled my pistol and shot at the man in the corner and flung a shot at the other man.
I felt a twinge and fired at the man in the corner, this time putting him on the floor. Kicking over the table I fell behind it. The man was firing but there was just enough protection. It gave me time to reload the Greener. I snapped a shot at him, then stood and fired the Greener. It tore the table he was behind into and took him down. I went to the man in the corner. He was trying to lift his gun, but I kicked it away.
The last one I shot was groaning and wiggling on the floor. I went to him. He would live, the table took most of the blow and the buckshot, but he was feeling some pain.
The door opened and in rushed the marshal and Molly. I looked at him and then to her. “About that pie Molly, I think I’ll just take a cup of coffee instead.”

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