Oh, Marshal, I’m glad I caught you before you left,” came the voice of the exhausted minister.
He must have run from his house or at least the church to the diner, I thought. He doesn’t normally get that much exercise unless he has one of those hellfire and brimstone messages which will get him wound up some. “Sit down, Parson, what is so desperately important to get you runnin’?”
That brought a chuckle for the group. Molly had edged over to the table as she saw the preacher run in. She was more thoughtful than I as she poured him a cup of coffee and placed it before him at the table. He took a sip before he began, first thanking Molly.
“You remember my cousin, Clyde Hoffner?” asked Chapman.
“He’s the one who helped you and Betty move here, am I right?” questioned Doc before he scratched the side of his face.
“You’re right Doc, and for the past two years or so he’s been working out at Cecil Thompson’s ranch.”
“So what seems to be the problem?” I asked, getting involved in the conversation.
He finished his coffee before answering. “Nick Parsons rode by the church this morning. I was in my office studying and praying for Sunday’s service. He was very polite and apologized for interrupting me.”
“Well, get on with it,” I urged him.
“Let him talk, Miles,” scolded Molly. “He’ll tell us at his own pace.”
I glanced at her, then said, “Go on, Parson.”
He nodded, then continued. “Mr. Parsons told me that Mr. Thompson sent him to town to tell me.”
He paused, while the rest of us looked back and forth at each other. I wanted to say something for him to get to the point, but I remember the slight chiding I received from Molly, so I waited with the others.
“Parsons said that Clyde hadn’t shown up for any meals for a week. He said it wasn’t uncommon for a person to be out on the range for a few days, but rarely a week without Mr. Thompson knowing about it. Something has happened to him,” he paused, then looked at me. “Miles, would you mind checking into it?”
The marshal has been dropped and the parson was making this a personal request. I pulled on my moustache, then looked straight at the Reverend. “Anything could have happened to your cousin. His horse could have fallen on him, a cougar or bear, or even an renegade Indian.”
“I know, Miles, that’s why I need to find him.
“Preacher!” I kind of raised my voice without meaning to, “The Tompson ranch covers a lot of territory. It would be like searchin’ for a needle in a haystack.” I felt Molly touch my arm indicating that I should calm down. “I’m not upset or angry, there’s no need to be, so I apologize for my outburst, but you can see the problem.”
With a nod of his head he replied, “That’s why I’ve been praying, so it will be a beam instead of a needle you’ll be looking for.” He paused again then said softly. “Miles, if he’s dead I would like to give the body a decent burial.”
“If he’s dead, the varmints have torn him apart,” I said with disgust.
He dropped his head for a moment. “There will be parts of him there. Please, Miles.”
I looked around at the others gathered there with their varied expressions of expectancy. Then I felt a slight pinch. I sighed, “I’ll go look for your cousin. Parson, did you ever think he might have just rode off?”
He shook his head. “He would have stopped by to tell us. No, he didn’t ride off–something happened. He’s hurt, he’s sick, or. . . he’s hiding.”
“Hiding!” Charlie spoke up for the first time. “Why would he be hiding?”
Preacher Chapman just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. I put a hand on top of his shoulder. “I’ll head out in the mornin’. I’ll do my best,” I assured him.
“I know you will Miles. May we all pray together,” he said, then started praying.
I didn’t bow my head or close my eyes. I usually pray like Jesus told the disciples, ‘Watch and pray,’ and being a marshal that has helped me survive. I saw that the man who Charlie talked with had left the diner. That made me wonder…