Not much else was said, so I dozed most of the way to Silverton only waking up at the water stations. The sky was clear and blue as can be. Soon the aspen leaves will be turning to gold. Maybe I’ll bring Molly on a trip to see them, or even better yet we could ride up the canyon for a ways, camp out, and just enjoy being alone for a change. I know she faces people every day, and I do as well on my job. It’ll be a plan, I decided.
Charlie went straight to the marshal’s office to see if anything was happening. He really didn’t think so since Shy was recuperating, but he thought he better check the jail anyway. We really didn’t know where Shy was. In fact, I didn’t know if Silverton had another doctor since Webb had died. This was a rough and tumble town and it needed a decent doctor, two really. I told him we’d meet at Flo’s Cafe after I checked us in at the hotel.
I stopped by the Wells Fargo office as was my habit. I worked through that office a few years back and got to know the clerks fairly well. Morgan Appleby was still there but Dick Fletcher had been transferred to Leadville and the newer clerk, Troy Linton up and quit. He left for parts unknown. Tom Shuman and John Collins were the new clerks and Morgan introduced them to me.
Morgan poured a cup of coffee for me without me even asking and smiled when he handed it to me. We made some small talk, then he asked why I was up in Silverton. I told him I traveled up with the Sheriff regarding the recent demise of Asa Stokes, the town marshal. I was informed that the vet over at the stables worked on Shy. Morgan thought that he was shot in the hip breaking the tip of the bone, and also below the ribcage. As far as he knew Shy was still in bed. He was in bed over at the late Dr. Webb’s house. The vet, Terrel Davenport, secured the help of Mrs. Yardley and one of the girls from the a saloon on Blair Street. She was not one of the working girls, just worked in the saloon for the atmosphere her lovely face provided.
“From what I hear,” Morgan began to inform me, “it’s been pretty rowdy up there. Several fights and shootings, and we have no one to corral them. I hope Sheriff Gold stays around for a while.”
I thanked him for the coffee, then shook hands with Shuman and Collins and departed for the hotel. There was one room left so I booked it. I didn’t know the plans. Charlie might decide to stay at the jail. I remember the many nights I slept down at the Wells Fargo office. I didn’t know what time Charlie would make it down to Flo’s, the office was only a half a block up the street.
When I stepped in the eatery was about half full. Miners ate at various times during the day, and several residents of the town would make their appearance at Flo’s as the place was known to serve good food. I waited for several seconds, looking the room over and letting my eyes adjust. It probably wasn’t as necessary as it would be if I entered a saloon, but in my trade a person can’t be too careful.
A waitress saw me standing there and came over. “May I help you, sir?” she inquired.
I saw her take a lingering look at the shotgun I was holding. It was a required companion almost everywhere I traveled and especially here in Silverton. I pointed, “Is that table available?” It was back in the corner. She led the way and then went for a menu. I told her to bring two as I was expecting company. Taking off my hat, I looked carefully around the room to see if I recognized anyone from my past that I knew, or maybe even from a wanted poster I had seen.
My eyes stopped briefly on one man, then continued to rove, but came back to the man. Some place in the back of my mind I seemed to recall seeing that person. As I sipped my coffee I would take a glance now and again at the person. I didn’t want to appear that I was staring at him. As I started on my second cup, I thought of what Morgan said about hoping that Charlie stayed around for a while. After what he told me on the train that might not be so good, but then again, he couldn’t let the riff-raff take over the town. That had happened all too often in Silverton. I had seen the same thing in Tincup.
It seemed like Charlie was taking quite a spell to arrive. I know we had eaten on the way up on the train, but that was now several hours ago. The waitress came by to top my cup several times and I would shrug my shoulders and tell her that I’m still waiting. Finally Charlie came in the door and when he did I saw the man I had noticed earlier stiffen. Charlie didn’t notice and came right over to where I was sitting.
He seemed a little downcast. “Miles, I’m going to stay over. I hate to do this to you, but would you try explaining to Marta the situation?”
I was looking past him, not paying any attention but closely watching the man.
Then chaos broke out, the man jumped to his feet, turned, drawing his pistol. I dropped the Greener and fell to the table, made a loud clatter, and drew my pistol firing under the table. Then I brought my gun up, I fired again my bullet knocking the man back against his table.
After the shots, the room became deathly quiet. Charlie’s eyes were wide, but he stood up with a gun in hand and went to the table. The two men with the man I shot had their hands in the air. I thanked the Lord that the man’s first bullet was fired too quickly and hit the floor under Charlie’s chair. My first one caught him in the lower leg, and the second one took away his life.
I stayed at the table while Charlie talked to the other two men. He emptied the pockets of the dead man and when he was satisfied he came back to me. He threw a few coins of gold and a jack knife on the table. “Miles,” he sighed, “I’m so glad you didn’t fire that Greener over my shoulder. I think my heart would have given out.”
“Who was he?” I asked. “He was ready to shoot you in the back.”
“Feller there said that he went by Shawley,” he replied. Then turned back to look at the man as his two companions were carrying him out. “Hold it!” he yelled.