The Saga of Miles Forrest

Molly brought me a nice slice of butterscotch pie.  It seemed like forever since I put a fork into a piece of one of her pies.  What could be better?  Hot coffee, a piece of pie, and my gal sitting next to me? Maybe that was the problem. I was just getting too comfortable. 
We were sitting there and I told her of what took place up in Silverton.  “I’m glad he was gone Miles.  I would hate for you to arrest him, no matter what he may have done.”
I nodded at her and took a sip while she continued.  “And he even gave you a message.  Do you think he is really headed for California or just said that to add more confusion?”
Looking up I saw Willis pass through the doorway.  Seems he is always bringing me bad news and I think it might be the person that was with him.  They came right over to the table and interrupted my coffee sipping. 
“Mister Forrest, this here’s Mr. Bartholomew from the Denver office.” 
He reached out his hand, but I had my cup in my right hand and didn’t feel the need to put it down.  I glanced at Molly and she gave me one of her famous scowls.  “Have a seat.  Either of you gents want some coffee?”
They both nodded, so I got up to get a couple of cups.  I wasn’t ready to offer them a piece of pie, but then Molly went and spoiled it with her generosity.  “Mister Bartholomew, Willis, could I offer you a piece of butterscotch pie?”
“Coffee’s good for me, but thank you…Mrs. Forrest?”
I was some relieved, when Willis blurted out.  “I’d sure be obliged for a piece of your pie.”
I handed each of them their coffee when Bartholomew asked.  “Do you have any cream and sugar?  This coffee looks very strong.”
“It’s up on the counter over there,” I said curtly.  Cream and sugar, what else will he want?  I wasn’t about to get up when Molly came back from the kitchen with Willis’ pie and said that she would get it for him.
“I’ll get right down to it Mr. Forrest.  The Denver office of Wells Fargo is quite concerned over your handling of the murder that was committed by this Trenton fellow.  And…”
I cut him off.  “You sound as if he has already been tried, and there’s no evidence to show that he did it, or that he was even on that train.”
He didn’t like it that I cut him off.  “Nevertheless, he was a friend of yours and there is reason to believe that you let him go.”
That did it.  I stood up and let go with a punch to his nose.  If I have to punch that where I like to hit.  It doesn’t hurt my hand as much and it sure does all kinds of damage to the person:  watery eyes, blood spurting.  Almost made me not notice the ache in my hand.
“I don’t know where you’re from, but out here we don’t take lightly when a person’s name and honor is impugned.  A less patient man than myself might have just shot you.”
Molly had rushed to the kitchen to get a towel for his nose.  As she gave it to him, I continued.  “Now, if you would like to continue your conversation I’ll listen.”
The nose stopped bleeding in short order, but it had dripped into his coffee.  I wasn’t about to offer him a fresh cup.  “The office wants you to go after this Trenton or it will deem it necessary to relieve you of your position.”
“Hmmmm, now let me see if I’ve got this right.  I’m to go to California to look for Trenton or I’ll lose my job?  California is a big place and if he’s a few weeks ahead of me he could be gone from San Francisco before I even get there.” 
I decided to take a pause and eat another bite.  I noticed that Willis had already finished his.  “Why not have the Wells Fargo people in California look for him?”
“You know what he looks like,” came the reply.
“If this is the Trenton I know, he has one eye.  Seems like those agents in California could be lookin’ for that.  Don’t seem to reason that there would be many walkin about with only one eye.”
“Mister Bartholomew, you tell the higher ups back in Denver that if Trenton is apprehended then I’ll go fetch him back.”