As the front door opened we all turned and looked in that direction. At least it broke tension of the moment. I had to smile and said to those at the table. “The Lord does provide.”
He didn’t come in often, but there he was–Marshal Billy Denton. “Marshal, come on over here. I think there may be one more piece of pie back in the kitchen,” I yelled over to him.
After taking a step he stopped. “Thanks, I’ll just sit over here.” I know it was because he saw Charlie Gold sitting there.
Doc chided in, “Come on Marshal, Charlie is just leaving.”
Charlie looked at Doc, somewhat confused, and then at me. I nodded for him to leave and said something to help him along. “Why don’t you and Marta take a little walk and discuss what we were talkin’ about?”
“Yes,” Molly chimed in, “we are slow right now. It would be a good time for you to get away for twenty minutes or so.”
Charlie pushed his chair out while Marta took off her apron. “See you in a while,” said Molly, then she sashayed back to the kitchen to get Billy that piece of pie.
“Come on Billy,” said Doc as he pulled out the chair that Charlie had just pushed in.
Billy came hesitantly. I got up, grabbed a cup off the shelf near the stove and poured him a cup of coffee. Placing it down in front of him he asked, “Got any cream?”
That sort of made me stiffen. Now, Doc takes a bit of cream in his coffee, but here was young Billy, the town marshal, and he wants cream.
Molly was bringing out the pie and upon hearing him stated, “I have some in the kitchen; be right back,” before she left she added, “anything else for you, Marshal?”
“How ’bout a short stack, if you don’t mind Mol, Mrs. Forrest,” that made Molly giggle as she went back to the kitchen and made my ears start to burn.
We didn’t say much for a while waiting for Molly to bring back the cream, and then his pancakes. When she came back she asked putting the plate on the table. “Syrup, honey, or preserves?”
“Surp? Real surp?” he asked twice and Molly nodded. “I’ll take that.”
“Billy, as soon as you’re done eatin’ I figure you and me should go huntin’.”
“Ummm,” he was fidgeting trying to figure out what to call me.
“Miles,” I said.
“Well, Miles, I’m not much of a hunter.”
That brought a laugh from Doc. “I don’t think that’s what Miles is talking about Billy.”
“We have two shot up bad men out there somewhere. They couldn’t have gone very far. I figure you and I could go ’round a bit checkin’ up on vacant shacks.”
Doc laughed again as something got stuck in Billy’s throat when I said that. “No, go ahead and finish and we’ll take a ride to the west as far as Hesperous.”
“Why, that’s nigh onto ten miles. Out of my jurisdiction anyway.”
I stared him straight in the eye. He tried to dodge my look, but couldn’t help finally meeting my gaze. “You have to learn that the doin’ of the right doesn’t have any jurisdiction,” I paused. “Besides, you’ll be with me and I have jurisdiction.”
He put his fork down and just sat there for a minute. “Doc, why don’t you refill his cup while I run and saddle up Star. Go ahead and finish your breakfast, I should be back by the time you’re done.”
I needed to hurry as I didn’t want to give him time to think of something where he could back out. Maybe I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I wanted someone with me, even Billy Denton, if I had to go up against those three scoundrels even if two of them were shot.
Arriving back at the diner just in time, for Billy was coming out the door. “I, I, have… .”
“Sorry it took so long, but I took the liberty of bringin’ your hoss along with me. Mount up!”

We all rushed down to the Judge’s place, then ran up the stairs. The Judge was awake and complaining that he was hungry. Doc went over and checked his head, cleaning the wound and replacing the bandage.
“Don’t try to get up just yet. We’ll get some stew over to you,” said the Doc.
That was good news; something to be thankful for. Doc told him to stay in bed, and for us not to bother him for at least another day. With a cracked skull, he needed to take things slowly.
“Tomorrow, I want him moved downstairs,” said the Doc to no one in particular. “I don’t want him trying to come down those stairs or go up them.”
A few days later found Charlie, Doc, and I sitting around the table at the Diner. It was cold outside and the stove just off to my left was putting out the heat, and there was a coffeepot sitting on top which we used quite frequently. We had just finished a big piece of mincemeat pie; it was filled with elk and it sure made the stomach feel satisfied. I had an egg on the side, fried to perfection. Hannah and Greta still had their egg farm, but Hannah wouldn’t venture close to the Diner; Greta or a delivery boy, sometimes Tommy made the deliveries.
We were chit-chatting and the talk turned to the Doc being thunked up side the head and the Judge’s cracked skull. Both were doing much better now. The Judge was still either in bed or sitting in a chair. We had brought a cot into the dining room where he could lay down.
“Those owlhoots must be holed up somewhere either in town or just outside,” Charlie said out of nowhere. “There are two of them crippled up now. Perhaps, I’ll go make a few rounds to check up on the folk on the fringe of town.”
“Not a good idea,” I said. “You no longer wear a badge.”
“What?” They heard me chuckling to myself.
“I think the thing to do is for me to grab Billy Denton and for him and I to go out and check the homes outside town. Make him work a bit for the town’s money.”
They both laughed and I got up to refill the coffee cups.
“No, dead serious,” I said. “I’m goin’ to get him and we’ll ride out each day.”
“Say,” Doc spoke up. “Election is coming next March for sheriff. Charlie, you have the experience, why don’t you run for sheriff?” he looked around for Marta. “Of course, being sheriff will take you out of town once in a while.”
“Nah, he couldn’t handle it,” I said. “He’s tied tight by her apron strings.”
Marta walked over and we quieted down. “What are you worthless guys talking about?”
I got up again and grabbed the coffeepot. “Their cups are full, Senor Miles.”
“Marta,” Doc began, “we were thinking that Charlie should run for sheriff. That would give him a good job, and a steady income. Might even make him want to settle down.”
She stood there with hands on her hips. “Hmmmm, and get him shot at.”
“Yeah, but at least he’ll be gettin’ paid for it,” I said.
“Paid for what?” asked Molly as she came out of the kitchen joining our group.
“They want Charlie to run for sheriff,” Marta explained to Molly.
There was a stillness, Molly had assumed the same posture as Marta. Then the front door opened…

As I walked toward Billy Denton, his eyes started to widen and I noticed his Adam’s apple moving. He must have gulped. I stared at him as I said, “Go release Charlie Gold!”
“He’s under arrest for attempted murder,” he mumbled.
“Not anymore! Where is his accuser? What happened to the witness?” I pointed my finger at him and continued. “If you had been doin’ your job the Doc and Judge Klaser wouldn’t have broken heads. Plus the fact that the person who did it has escaped.”
“You don’t know that the wounded man hit Doc,” he retorted.
“Maybe not him, but one of the other two fellows that were with him.”
“You still can’t be sure,” he insisted.
“Denton, for a law officer, you sure are dumb! Let’s go!”
We turned to go down the stairs as Molly was coming up. “Miles?” she started to say, then changed it. “Don’t you…” When she said that I waved at her and went on down the stairs. “I’ll see you at the diner,” I yelled as I went out the door.
Denton didn’t want to concede but he started to see the fallacy of holding Charlie. As we stepped on the boardwalk in front of the marshal’s office there was a shot. Billy ran into the office and I ran around the back. A man was horseback and had just fired through the barred window.
“Hold it!” I yelled.
He snapped a shot at me, I drew and fired as the horse reared. I was almost positive I hit him, but he was able to turn the horse and gallop down the back street.
Rushing back to the front I ran inside the jail. “Charlie!”
Denton was getting the keys and Charlie was laying on the floor. As Denton opened the jail cell, Charlie spoke, “He gone?”
“You alright?” asked Denton reaching down for Charlie.
“I was standing right where you are now, Miles, when I heard a horse out back. I saw the gun coming through the window and I dove for the floor and under the bunk. He fired, missed and I crawled under the bed. The angle was too difficult for him to aim, and that’s when the two of you busted in on the action.”
“Get your hat, gun, and come with me,” I said.
“What about the charge?” he asked.
“Let’s go over to the diner and I’ll fill you in with all that’s happened.”
Denton had his gun for him, “Sorry, Charlie, I was just doing my job.”
I looked at him with disgust and muttered under my breath, “You sure are dumb.”
Things sort of settled down the rest of the week. Molly, Marta, and Anihu were getting ready for the Thanksgiving meal we have been giving out since Molly opened the place. It was mainly for those down-and-out miners who were destitute. Molly always made venison stew and biscuits for them. It had opened up and several people would come by and partake; some would give a donation.
Charlie had gone hunting and shot a nice elk, so this year it was not venison stew, it was elk stew. I happened to be fortunate to bag a couple of grouse which we held back for our own Thanksgiving dinner. I figured that Molly had a couple of pies hidden as well.
After closing time we all set down for our meal. Charlie was there with Marta and her whole family. Doc Jones and his wife joined us. He still had headaches from time to time, but not as severe. It was a grand time, despite the events of the previous weekend. Oh, and the pie was good. Molly made apple and butterscotch pie, two of each. Anihu made something she called tamales. We laughed, drank coffee, of course, ate, and then Doc stood up.
“I’m thankful that I’m alive,” he paused and took time to look at each of us. “And that I have friends that care.”
From that point each of us began to share. It was Molly’s turn. She stood and began, when the door burst open. It was Tommy again.
“Come quick, it’s the Judge!”

I ran into the diner, “Where’s Molly?” I hollered going over to Marta.
“She’s at the Doc’s, hurry!” replied Marta.
Bursting back out the doorway I went across the street. I opened the door to Doc Jones’ office and there was Molly on the floor, holding Doc’s head in her lap. There was a large gash across his head with blood streaming down his face. Doc’s wife was coming over with a cloth to wipe his face and clean his wound.
“He alive?” I asked softly.
Molly nodded yes, and then said, “The man that Charlie shot must have hit him, or one of his friends, as he is no longer here.”
I saw Doc jerk his head. “Easy, easy Doctor Jones,” said Molly. “You’ve been hit hard and the bleeding has stopped, so don’t get it started again.”
His wife had wiped the wound clean, but it was still seeping some blood. She had run something under his nose and that was when he jerked his head; some kind of smelling salts I guess.
“Let me help him to the bed,” I said.
He was conscious now, and was able to help us get him over to the bed. “Let me sit for a minute,” he ordered. “I want to see if the room will stop swirling. If it doesn’t I’ll lie back.”
I grabbed Molly and took her back out to the office. “We’ve got a problem,” I said and then looked toward where the Doc was. “I found Judge Klaser in a similar condition, only he was tied up as well. I believe he has been tied for a couple of days; don’t know when he was hit and left. Doc needs to look him over.”
“What’s that?” came a slurred voice from the other room.
I heard a struggle, his wife telling him to get back on the bed. There was the shuffle of feet and I saw Doc standing in the doorway. “Who’s hurt?”
“Judge Klaser, he may have a cracked skull.”
He moved toward his desk, then stumbled, but caught himself on the edge of the desk. “I can get a litter and bring him over here.”
“No, he shouldn’t be moved!”
“Neither should you!” exclaimed his wife. “Help me get him back in bed.”
“No! I’m all right. I need to check on him. Moving him with a cracked skull could do more damage,” he said as he checked what was in his bag. “Miles, help me over to his place.”
“Stubborn fool!” cried his wife, but she took the bag from his hands and followed us out. Molly was on one side and I was on the other. He was walking fairly normally.
Tommy had been standing outside and I flicked him a dime, “Go get the marshal, bring him to the Judge’s house.” Grabbing the dime, he ran off toward the marshal’s office.
Doc was trying to hurry himself along, but once in a while he would grab his head. He must have a terrible headache. We were about a block from the Judge’s home when Doc stopped and bent over and began puking his guts out. After several seconds, he stood up straight, reached for his handkerchief to wipe his mouth.
“Sorry, I have a concussion. Let’s go,” and off he went making us hurry to catch up to his side.
Helping the Doc up the couple of steps we went in the door. “He’s upstairs. I was able to lay him on the bed.”
The stairs were narrow; Doc started up first. “Miles, you stay behind me in case I get dizzy and fall backwards.”
We made it up the stairs with no problems, however, when we went into the Judge’s room the Doc bent over again. This time he didn’t vomit, but said, “Help me to the chair,” and he sat with a big sigh.
Sweat was coming from his brow. “Miles, I’m going to stand and I want you to move the chair over by the bed. Then come get me and help me to it. Molly, hold onto me so I don’t fall.”
We did as ordered and finally Doc was sitting by the edge of the bed. “Molly, go get some water, then put some on to heat. Miles, light the lamp and turn it up so I can see better.”
I heard a little commotion at the bottom of the stairs and Molly proclaim, “He’s upstairs,” then heard the heavier footsteps of boots. It was Billy Denton.
I was holding the lamp so Doc could get a good look at the Judge’s head. Good thing too, for my inclination was to go slap Billy senseless. “His skull is cracked, but not bad,” he paused. “But that doesn’t mean much to the brain. It just depends how hard and what part of the brain.” Almost as planned his wife handed him some scissors.
He began to cut away the hair, and then asked for a razor. “I need to get all the hair off.”
Billy had been standing there for a minute, his mouth open looking at the blood on the floor and the Judge lying unconscious on the bed. Then he had to go open his mouth. “Now, what is goin’ on here!” he exclaimed.
I sat the lamp down…