The Saga of Miles Forrest

Are you botherin’ that lady?” slurred a man, half sober.
    “Go your way, mister,” I responded then I resigned myself to what would be coming.
    The man went for the gun on his hip.  He had to try a couple of times as he couldn’t find the butt of the gun.  “Yuh cayn’t be orderin’ me ’round,” he said as his hand finally found his gun.
    I swung the Greener, the barrel of it catching his hand, most likely cracking a couple of bones.  He let out a yelp, then started to cussing.  Well, I couldn’t abide that with Lula around so I thumped him along side the head with the barrel.  The man slumped to the ground.
    The crowd was gathering and one who saw his buddy on the ground snapped out a command, “Drop that there shotgun!”
    I turned to face the crowd that was coming out of the saloon and instead of dropping the Greener, I lifted it and cocked both barrels.  That got their attention real quick like.
    Looking over the crowd they were not in a particular hurry to rush at me.  I saw the man I was looking for.  “Mister, are you sober enough to find the sheriff?” I asked him.  He nodded.  “Then scat!  Get him over here!”  Off he bounded up the street.  Pueblo was a large enough town to have a sheriff and a couple of deputies.  I wanted one of them down here in case this situation began to escalate.
    Glancing back at the bench I saw Lula caressing the head of Hawkens.  Myers was sitting down on the bench on the opposite side of Lula.  Quickly I brought my attention back to the crowd.  They were just standing there staring at the twin barrels of my shotgun.  There was no real tension, but some idiot might decide to try something stupid; they are just that way.
    “Why don’t you all go back inside?” I asked.  “I’m a Deputy United States Marshal and I’m runnin’ an investigation.  I surely would not want to arrest any of you for interrin’.”
    They began to grumble when a voice called out from the darkened street.  “Break it up, break it up!” came the order.  There was more grumbling but the men began to shuffle back to the saloon.
    “Now, Mister, drop that shotgun!” he commanded.
    I didn’t drop it, but I did lower the hammers.  “Sheriff, I’m….”
    “Arrest him, Sheriff!” screamed Lula.  “He tried to kill Thornton and then molest me!”
    “Sheriff, I’m Marshal Forrest.”
    “What are you waiting for?  Arrest him!” she shrieked again.
    The sheriff looked over to the three seated on the bench.  “Lady be quiet for a minute,” he ordered then turned his attention back to me.  “Miles Forrest, from Durango?”
    “That’s right,” I replied, lowering the Greener and holding it in one hand while I reached for my badge and credentials with the other.
    The sheriff holstered his pistol.  “I received a telegram from Dave Cook saying that you would be arriving in Pueblo and for me to give you my assistance,” he paused to look at the three.  “Would you mind explaining what this is all about?”
    “It’s a long story, Sheriff.  I’ll give you the jest of what happened here.  Myers, he’s the one sitting on the right of the bench just got out of prison.  Several years ago, he and Lewis Merker tried were involved in a scam.  Myers, here, was caught and since that time Merker has been tryin’ to kill me,” I said pausing to let that sink in.  
    Myers started to speak but I turned and lifted the Greener, and he quieted down.  “This other man, Thornton Hawkens just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.  I know nothin’ about him except for what Myers said about him wantin’ to purchase mine stock.”
    “And the woman?” questioned the Sheriff.
    “I have no clue.  She seems to have connection with Hawkens,” I replied.
    “Okay, I’ll take him on up to the doc’s.  Is there any reason for me to jail this Myers fellow?” he asked.
    Sighing I said, “Technically no.”
    “Swing by the office in the morning and we’ll discuss this some more,” said the sheriff and stepped toward the three.
    I turned and took a step and accidentally bumped the sheriff.  When we collided a shot was fired, the bullet hitting the brick wall above the three showering them with pieces of brick.  A second shot and I heard the bullet hit flesh, then a scream.  Both the sheriff and I dropped low to the ground and looked off into the darkness.  All that could be seen was the outline of buildings.
    “Must have come from that alley over there,” muttered the sheriff.
    “Well, we’re sittin’ ducks over here.  I’m goin’ over to take a look,” I stated and began to move.
    As I moved off into the darkness…
Today in the Texas Revolution:  The Mexican army at the Alamo formally surrender to Juan Seguin.