I was sitting down at the table with Doc Jones and Gilford Covney. We had taken the “body” over to Parker’s so he could get it in a casket and ready for burial. Grizz had been successful and brought us some fresh meat, so Gilford and I was having some bear stew while Doc was eating some of Marta’s enchiladas.
Standing at the edge of the door I saw Charlie Gold motioning for me to come. I must have frowned for he motioned a little more frantically for me to come. Looking down, I took two more quick bites of my stew and got up.
“Molly, save this for me,” I pleaded. “Back in a while.”
“Bring Mr. Covney with you,” requested Charlie.
As we went outside, I sided up next to Charlie. “Okay, Mr. Sheriff, what is it?”
He put his hand to his mouth, looked around and just said, “Follow me.”
He was constantly looking around seeming to be worried that someone was watching. In front of me, I saw Billington’s house.
“If anyone asks, we were here on official business with the bank and the Secret Service,” Charlie said as he unlocked the door and we all entered. He lead us back to a formal dining area where there was only one window and the curtains were pulled tight.
I was a bit surprised to see Judge Klaser and Judge Broomfield sitting at the table along with Douster. Douster wasn’t as surprised for I knew Charlie had to hide him somewhere.
“Welcome, boys,” said Judge Klaser cheerfully. “We need you for witnesses. Douster here has agreed to give us a deposition.”
Judge Broomfield looked at me. “What actually are the charges against Mr. Douster?” he inquired.
“Tampering with an on-goin’ federal investigation,” I replied.
“Ahmm,” the Judge muttered.
“What’s to keep me from walking out of here?” snapped Douster.
“For one, three of us know that you are an eye-witness to murder, since you testified so in our presence. Second, as soon as Merker and his cronies know you’re alive and free they’ll be after you,” Charlie pulled at his moustache. “I would give you maximum of two days life.”
“You’d have to protect me,” protested Douster.
“Just like I would any other free person walking the streets of Durango,” Charlie replied with a smile.
“So, why are Gilford and I here?” I asked.
“Miles, you were the arresting official, and Agent Covney is indirectly involved with the investigation. Plus, we have another duty for him to perform which I will get to as soon as Mr. Douster writes out his deposition and we all sign it,” to which Judge Broomfield pushed paper and pen in his direction.
“Charlie,” I breathed, “you know there’s at least one other fellow out there with Merker.”
He nodded and said, “At least one. I figure at least two. One to watch while the other set the dynamite.”
Douster finished, dropping the pen. Judge Broomfield read it over and signed it, then gave the it over to Judge Klaser who did the same. Charlie, Gilford and I did the same and as I signed it as a witness I gave it back to the federal judge.
“That means I don’t have to appear in the courtroom? Right?” asked Douster a little apprehensive.
“I can’t guarantee absolutely,” he paused, “but with the Judge’s signature and mine I doubt if it will be called into question.”
Judge Klaser spoke for the first time. “That brings us to Agent Covney,” he said and turned his gaze upon Gilford. “When are you leaving for Denver?”
“We will be headed out tomorrow morning,” replied Gilford.
“You and the other two agents?” questioned Judge Broomfield.
Gilford nodded and Klaser took up the conversation again. “Mister Douster will be your third agent. Get him to Denver, away from here.”
“My things!” Douster protested.
“Marshal Forrest will gather them up and have them shipped to you. If I’m not mistaken the Marshal needs to go to Denver in the next few weeks anyway,” said Judge Broomfield.
I jerked my head to look at the Judge.
“I was meaning to tell you,” mutter Covney.
Month: November 2018
Echoes From the Campfire
Look…a man is free, but still he ain’t free. I mean, nobody can tell him he’s got to work, but if he don’t he goes hungry. It’s like that with a republic. It’s free from other countries, but it ain’t ever free from responsibility. It’s got to raise food or starve. It’s got to make its clothes or go naked. It’s goes to keep up an army or its enemies will run over it. In other words, it’s got to take care of itself. Nobody else is going to.”
–Elmer Kelton (After the Bugles)
“Then you can tell them, ‘They remind us that the Jordan River stopped flowing when the Ark of the Lord’s Covenant went across.’ These stones will stand as a memorial among the people of Israel forever.'”
–Joshua 4:7 (NLT)
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IN FLANDERS FIELDS
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead; short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
–John McCrae
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I just have to post my traditional Veterans Day poem. Yesterday, 100 years ago, the guns stopped, the bullets cease to fly, and blood was stopped from being spilt by the Armistice for World War I. Supposedly the “war to end all wars,” it was actually the beginning of the end. One day the swords will be beaten into plowshares, but not until the Lord rules during the Millennial.
The world was completely changed with that war. The concept of “what’s the use” became the norm and it still being played today. It was all the same, whether from the concept of F. Scott Fitzgerald of “party-hardy” we’re all going to die, so what’s the use. To the doom and gloom of T.S. Eliot’s, The Wasteland. Woe is me, we’re all going to die, so what’s the use?
One phrase in this haunting poem always concerns me: “If ye break faith…” This day signifies that we remember the sacrifice of all veterans. All gave time to serve this great country. Let’s remember them!
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Family Veterans:
Walter E. Baker — U.S. Army (World War II–Europe)
Carl R. Adkisson — U.S. Army (World War II–Pacific)
William Baker — U.S. Army (World War II)
Howard Baker — U.S. Army (World War II)
James Swank — U.S. Army (World War II)
John Swank — U.S. Army (World War II)
Ted Adkisson — U.S. Marine Corps (World War II) U.S. Air Force (Korea)
James Adkisson — U.S. Air Force (Korea, Vietnam)
Harold Jones — U.S. Navy (World War II, Korea)
Bobby Jones — U.S. Navy (World War II)
Kenlock Jones — U.S. Army (World War I)
and your’s truly — U.S. Air Force (Vietnam)
And direct ancestors from the past:
William Adkisson – Civil War – CSA
James Adkisson – War of 1812
Elias Butler – War of 1812
William Butler – Revolutionary War
Moses Winters – War of 1812
Edward McDonald – Revolutinary War
James Rowland – Revolutinary War
Robert Rowland – 1742 Augusta Co VA militia
Solomon Walbridge – Revoluiontary War
Henry Walbridge – Revolutionary War
Mark Robinson Mahaffey – Civil War – USA
Jacob Shoop – Revolutionary War
Johannes Roger – Revolutionary War
As you can see, my wife and I have quite a military heritage. So if you see a vet today — thank him.
Coffee Percs
He busied himself with the coffee, not wanting to discuss, or think about, aging any more.”
–C. Wayne Winkle (Yancy’s Ride)
Coffee’s hot and strong; yur cup’s on the table so sit yurself and I’ll bring the pot. Sure feelin’ much better than last Saturday. Whew, I was feelin’ a mite rough.
I’m sure tired of all the snibblin’, whinin’, and blubberin’. I was just a-thinkin’ the other day, what would happen if Miles Forrest would come upon some of those whiners and snowflakes? He’d surely want to lift that Greener he was always carryin’ an’ give them a good thunk alongside the noggin’. Maybe it would knock some sense in, surely couldn’t knock any out.
Speakin’ about ol’ Miles. I recall the first time I saw the fellow. He was comin’ down off Pawnee Pass and into my camp. I looked him over some and remembered his smile. After that the first thing I noticed as I handed him a cup of coffee were his hands. They were used to hard work. They were scarred up some and after comin’ to know him I knew they were from fights, working with axe and rope; in other words, they had seen some time.
Before turnin’ in that first night, he mentioned that he knew of a top-hand who had used a whip a few times and had scars on his hands as well, so he reckoned he was in good company. Then he smiled, and winked sayin’ that this Man was always around camp somewhere and with him on the trail. If yuh don’t know Him, you should be a-meetin’ Him. I nodded at Miles and said that the Lord was a good Friend of mine.
Yep, ol’ Miles was one to ride the river with. He was always doin’ what needed to be done, most of the time doin’ more. Just like the good Lord does. He’s always around the camp, always along the trail, doin’ what needs to be done an’ more.
My goodness, didn’t mean to get all nostalgic on yuh. Let’s finish the pot so you can be gettin’ on down the trail for yur daily duties. Hope to be seein’ yuh next week. You be careful with all those moronic people out there and don’t do somethin’ stupid like forgettin’ to check yur cinch.
Echoes From the Campfire
You never stop learning. Keep an open mind. Be ready for anything, because when you least expect it, something will happen, you can bet on that.”
–Bobby Cavazos (The Cowbow From the Wild Horse Desert)
“Therefore, get your minds ready for action, being self-disciplined, and set your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”
–1 Peter 1:13 (HCSB)
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Finally starting to get over this sickness. I was sure feeling poorly. That’s why no Echo on Monday and why it came out late a couple of other days. Still have a cough, but feeling better.
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I was just glancing at my first story about Miles Forrest. He is not mentioned by name, but the first one about him was February 18, 2010. Since then he has become a weekly regular. I might miss a day or two, and nobody will say anything. For example, this week, no one mentioned that I didn’t write an Echo on Monday. However, if I miss a Tuesday writing about Miles I will definitely get some feedback. Sorta makes ol’ Miles feel good.
I remembered the old radio serials, and magazine serials where you had to wait until the next week to find out what happened and that is the way I’ve tried to set Miles up the past few years.
“As he sipped the coffee, I heard an audible sigh indicating that he approved…”
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Let me tell you something. I am so sick of whining babies and their tantrums! Banging on Carlson’s home, protesting…who knows what, and why, because they are spoiled brats. They want free this and free that. They need soap taken to their mouths because of the obscenities that spew forth. Where is the world has common decency gone?
And take the caravan that is moving toward the border. Immigration is not wrong. The whole point of the matter is simply a word–illegal. Do things right!. But remember, deconstructionism. Right is only right in how it concerns them; nothing else matters, not you, not me.
Let me tell you friend, there’s a great day coming!
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Ponder This: “He does not withhold the good from those who live with integrity.” (Psalm 84:11, HCSB) Another version, the ESV, puts it this way, “No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly.” We can boast of our Father’s generosity only as we experience it personally. “The Father’s generosity is not given to those who choose to sit on the couch watching television all day. You must get up and walk with him, and when you do, the floodgate of heaven opens and all the resources that Christ won for us suddenly become available.” (Carter Conlon)