After a breakfast of huevos rancheros, refried frijoles, and several tortillas along with a pot of coffee, Elfego escorted me to the marshal’s office. I didn’t know Udall, but Elfego told me not to expect much from him. I tried not to go in with a preconceived notion, but my first impression of him wasn’t good. He and a deputy were at the desk playing cards. Now, I couldn’t say for sure, but I thought he should be making the rounds of the town, checking things out.
The deputy, a young man, probably in his mid-twenties turned toward the door when I entered. His hand went to the butt of his gun; oh, I could see he was ready for action. I didn’t even bother to lift the Greener. The marshal just sat there, then looked up from the cards he was holding. He was a man past his prime, a little on the pudgy side. His hair was receding and what was there was streaked with grey. By his demeanor I could tell he was passing his time just waiting for a paycheck–in other words a hireling.
Neither greeted me nor said a polite “Howdy, good mornin’ to yuh.” They just sat, dumbfaced. Finally, the marshall spoke, “What’s that little snip of a kid doing hiding behind you? Get him out of my office!”
Now I didn’t care for his tone nor his words. I put one hand behind me, motioning for Elfego to stay. “The kid’s with me,” I stated, my eyes boring into his.
His lips curled into a snarl as he stood. “Get him out!”
“Mister…”
He interrupted me, “It’s marshal!”
I ignored him and continued emphasizing, “Mister, I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re asking for a thump.”
Now he bared his upper teeth like some mongrel dog. The deputy swirled in his chair, “You don’t…” I didn’t let him finish for he was on the receiving end of one of my thumps. It didn’t put him out, but it settled him back down in his chair with him rubbing the side of his head.
“I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal, Miles Forrest, and I just came by to let you know I’ll be in town for a spell,” I asserted. “Go on back to your cards. I’m goin’ to take a paseo around your little town with my friendly guide.” I put my arm around Elfego’s shoulders drawing him up next to me.
The marshal started to say something, but I shook my head. “Don’t go sayin’ anything you might get a headache over.” I nudged Elfego and we walked back out of the office. Glancing around I noticed one of the men across the street sitting on a bench in front of a saddle shop. Looking up the street there were the other two men I noticed earlier.
“Senor,” said Elfego, “we have friends.”
“I know, but I wouldn’t call them friends just yet,” I responded. “Why does that marshal hate you so much?” I asked as we began walking up the boardwalk back toward the center of town.
“Because I am a Mexican…” he paused. “Because I keep better watch over the town than he does.”
“That so? Let’s cross the street and go greet those two, show them our friendliness,” I said leaving the boardwalk and moving at an angle toward the men.
“Fine day,” I said, walking up to them. It caught them by surprise. One of them grunted, the other stammered then nodded. I stopped, turned my head to look at them. “I’d advise you to keep it that way.”
“Now see here! We’re just standing here minding our own business,”
“Ohhhh,” he groaned. Elfego kicked him above the knee. He began to slope, so I sighed thinking “why not?” and threw a right hand punch catching him on the jaw. He collapsed to the ground.
His friend started to grab for his gun. “You really don’t want to do that,” I warned, bringing the shotgun to bear. The man calmed down right quick like. “Help your friend up, and let’s go about enjoying this day that the Lord has given us.” I grabbed Elfego by the shoulders pushing him along.
We walked around the corner then stopped to sit on the bench in front of a butcher shop. “Elfego, tell me what you know…”