The Saga of Miles Forrest

I was walking just off the boardwalk toward the Tivoli Saloon.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man to my left level a gun at me and shoot.  I threw myself to the right and landed on the ground, then heard two more shots.  I drew my gun and fired at the man who shot at me, hitting him.
    He was trying to run away when I heard another shot and the man dropped.  Picking myself up, I grabbed my hat and walked toward the man who shot at me.  It was the one I had seen in Durango and also boarded the train.  Men were starting to gather around and turning I saw another man on the street.  He was the second man that had been in Durango.
    “Drop your gun and put your hand in the air,” came the order.  “You’re under arrest for murder.”
    The law in Denver was no stranger to me.  They tended to make decisions before they had the evidence.  I didn’t drop my gun, nor did I raise my hands.  Slowly I turned toward the voice.
    “Deputy U.S. Marshal; check my vest,” I said calmly.
    “He shot in self-defense,” came a voice from the Tivoli.  “I witnessed the whole thing.”
    “You stay out of this Masterson!” commanded the officer.  “I’m in charge here.”
    I heard a loud guffaw from a man as he was walking toward me.  “Put down your gun, Stimbard.”
    “I won’t tell you again.  Stay out of this Masterson!”
    “First of all, he didn’t kill the men.  I did.  Arrest me!” he challenged Stimbard the police officer.
    “I saw it!”
    “Then you’re blind,” Masterson stated.  “What kind of pistol are you carrying, Marshal?”
    “Smith and Wesson, Schofield, .45,” I replied.
    “Not only are you blind, you’re deaf as well,” snapped Masterson.  “I shot twice from my Colt.  You can’t even tell from the sound,” he paused then walked to Stimbard.  “I ought to slap you silly, but you’d not be any better off.  I bet you I can find witnesses that you were even in the vicinity when the shots were fired.”
    Turning to me he said, “Marshal, show him your badge.”
    I pulled my badge from my pocket and walked to the officer and Masterson.  “These men blew up the jail in Durango, attempted to kill a federal witness, and are involved in fraud against the United States government,” I said after I walked up to them with my badge in hand.  “If you want I can go back and get Agent Covney of the United States Secret Service and he can take you into custody for interfering with a federal case.”
    Masterson laughed out loud again.  “I told you that you were stupid, Stimbard,” he grabbed the policeman’s gun, empty the cylinder and handed it back.  “Not get along and rouse your drunks!”
    As he left, Masterson turned to me and held out his hand.  “Masterson, folks call me Bat,” he said smiling.  “Blew up a jail, did they?”
    “Heard of you.  Glad I could meet a real legend,” I said as I shook his hand when I noticed his eyes sharpen.  “No jest intended, I meant it.  I’m Miles Forrest.”
    His eyes returned to normal, “Used to work for Dave Cook? he asked.
    I nodded then I noticed that Covney had walked up.
    “Evening Gilford,” greeted Masteron.
    “Bat,” he replied cordially.  “What’s up Miles?”
    “We have just deprived this world of two pieces of scum.  These are the two men who followed me from Durango.  Can you help with the bodies?”
    “I’ll take care of them.  That means only Merker is out there,” stated Covney.
    “Unless he has gathered others…”