I had just come from sending telegrams to Marshal Blasco and Dave Cook about the demise of Mike Queens. I mentioned that a full report would be sent later. Stanley Offut was awful skittish, I think the ordeal wore on his nerves. He wasn’t afraid of me, but our relationship wasn’t what it was before. I did my best to soothe him.
Solly Vendor was standing outside his store smoking one of his own stogies when I walked by. Solly was always friendly to me, not that I’d say we had regular fellowship, but there was no animosity. He blew out a big puff of smoke. “What’s wrong with Stanley?” he asked good naturedly. “He acts like a rat in a room of cats. He’s tickier than that machine he runs.”
All I could do was give him a weak smile. “I’ll just say that he’s gone through quite an ordeal.”
He nodded his head understanding that I couldn’t give out any more information until the Judge had the case clear, but he prodded just a mite. “I heard it had something to do with the killing of Queens,” he paused taking a deep puff. “When will they be appointing a new marshal?”
“Solly, of that I have no idea. They might have to wait until after the inquest.”
Now he exhaled, then sighed, “Why don’t they give the job back to you? You have your ways, but you’re a fair man. Folks feel safe around you,” he paused to look up the street. “Maybe I’ll go have a talk with Newsome,” he paused to take another puff. “By the way, how is Foster?”
That was Solly, he was truly interested in the town and the welfare of its citizens. Not a regular church-goer, mind you, but a solid citizen.
He gave me pause for thought, I should make it a weekly habit to visit Wilson. He and I did not always see eye-to-eye, but we were friends. Darnelle was keeping the store open and it was doing right well with the help of Mrs. Blackstone. I waved at Solly and continued on up the street toward the jail. That was another thing, what do to with Mrs. Blackstone’s request. Right now I had laid it in the preacher’s lap. That’s probably where it should remain for the time being at least.
I noticed Lucas cleaning up along main street, but didn’t see Fernando. Perhaps he was working in another area. I stopped to look around for a few moments then continued to trod to the office. There was really nothing I needed there but I promised Charlie that I would make my presence known through the town in his absence. He went up to Silverton to check on Mateo.
Silverton, that was a rough town. It began to boom in 1874 and was still going strong. With the booming mining industry, the evil and vice was booming as well. With the growth of the mines, many miners brought their families with them. Most worked in the larger mines such as the Silver Lake, the Iowa, the Royal Tiger, and the Sunnyside, along with some smaller mines. Oh, there were still the few sourdougher, but their days were coming to an end. Every time I went there, more buildings were going up, but most of the riff-raff built close to Blair Street or close by. In that area of town they boasted of nearly forty saloons or gambling dens and dance halls that never closed. However, there were other businesses being built. They had two banks along with Wells Fargo, several hotels, and a church. A racetrack was proposed with a jockey club, a library was built. Yep, Silverton was booming–I wondered for how long.
I walked through the town, stopped in to say hello to Mateo’s wife, Luciana and his two sons. Then started back toward the diner where Judge Klaser was to have supper with Molly and me. I had often invited the Judge since he was a widower, but he was afraid that people would perceive a conflict of friendship with the marshal and the judging of the law behind the bench.
Walking in, I nodded at Marta, then went over to my usual table. Molly was busy helping Marta with the customers. I needed to talk with her about getting some help during the rush hours. When it was extremely busy, Edith, Doc’s wife would give a hand, but it seemed that they could afford a regular person. Emelda, along with Molly, did most of the cooking; it was time for my wife to settle just a little.
I was sipping my coffee and was pondering how the good Lord had blessed me when the Judge entered. He nodded at several on his way to my table. When he was seated I poured him a cup of coffee and Molly came to get his order. The Judge requested a platter of Emelda’s enchiladas, and he asked if Molly had any baking soda. He said he wanted it handy if he was going to get heartburn.
We were chatting, the Judge greatly enjoying his enchiladas while Molly and I had elk stew. She had already told me that she was saving some pie for us. I was just lifting my spoon to my mouth when Lucas walked in, his shoulders bent and head drooped low.
He looked up at me, with a blackened eye and cut lip. “Senor Marshal, I ….”