I heard the yell of the waitress, “Mister, you didn’t pay,” as I got to the door of the restaurant. Years of experience had taught me not to rush out a door blindly. I pulled my Schofield, and then the waitress screamed.
“He’s got a gun,” cried another woman. What did she think I was going to do, steal her pancakes?
Slowly, I peeked out and didn’t spot anything so I leaped, hoping that if there was a shot it would be right near the door. There was no shot, but when I hit the edge of the boardwalk, my feet went out from under me as I slipped on the ice. The 3 inches of snow that had fallen did little to cushion my fall, and nothing to aid my ego as I went down–hard.
Quickly I got up and ran to the corner. I as approached I moved over against the wall again and peeked around. There were a few people on the street, but not the person that passed by the restaurant. Maybe I was just imagining things. Mulling this over I went back to the restaurant.
My gun was still out as I entered and the woman gasped again. I wanted to twirl it, sort of show off for her, but that wasn’t my style. Going back to the table where I was sitting I motioned for the waitress. “I’d like another cup of coffee.”
“Are you going to pay for it this time?” she answered in a very sassy voice.
“Miss, I always pay for my meals, so what did you mean by ‘this time?'”
She was sort of taken back by that and rushed off to get my coffee. At least I thought that was what she was doing. Instead a man from the back came out with a cleaver in his hand. “Are you the one?” he asked.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean.”
“I don’t put up with trash talking to my help,” he said lifting his voice.
Out of habit I reached for the Greener, but then remembered that I left it with Molly. Then I figured I’d just get out of there, so I reached inside my coat to my vest pocket and pulled out a couple of quarters and flipped them on the table. That would more than cover my meal.
I started to walk away, but the man grabbed my coat and then gave me a shove. “Mister,” I said, “Just let it go.”
For some reason, he must have gotten a bee in his bonnet for he came at me. Now I wasn’t too worried about him, but that cleaver in his hand bothered me some. I pulled the chair from the table beside me and pushed it at him, hoping to slow him down just a mite. It did, just enough, as I then grabbed the chair where I had been sitting and swung it over my head smashing it down on his. His knees buckled an he folded to the floor.
“You’ve killed him!” the waitress screamed.
Then a man yelled out, “I’ll get the marshal!”
“Meal is paid for,” and I pointed at the table. “He’ll only have a headache.”
He was already coming to and holding his head slightly moaning.
“No you don’t. You’re not leaving until the marshal gets here,” the waitress spoke again, but this time she was holding a pistol in both hands.
“Miss, I am a marshal,” then I opened my coat and pulled my deputy badge from another of my vest’s pockets. “If I were you, I’d put that pistol down and see if you can help him.”
I walked outside and shook my head. A person would think I was in the high society section of Denver rather than the rough and tumble mining town of Silverton. Figured it was time for me to leave. I’d checked the mill that I’d come up to see. It was time to go, and I’d just go up and get my gear, pick up Hawk, and get him boarded on the train.
As I started toward the hotel, I heard a man holler, “Hey you! Hold up!” It was the marshal, with the man that went for him cowering behind him.
“Marshal,” I said, greeting him. “What can I do for you?”
I noticed that he had his gun in his hand. “Marshal, is that how you always greet fellow officers of the law?” I asked. Then I slowly opened my coat so he wouldn’t think anything amiss to show him my badge. As I opened my coat there was a shot and…

I grabbed Hawk’s reins with my free hand and pulled him with me as close to the mountain wall as possible. My shoulder didn’t throb, but I couldn’t take the time to look at it right now. My eyes were roaming the hillside and ridge across from me. I have found that when shot at, it is best to be still, look hard, and be patient. Too much movement and you can easily be seen. Move too hastily and the next bullet may find its target.
Finally, I moved my hand upward to my shoulder. There was blood, but it was not coming from my chest. Slowly I moved my head and saw that the top of my coat had a tear. The bullet went through my coat and just creased the top of my shoulder. Close, but I’ll take close in a situation like that.
I decided to move easily south along the wall. Perhaps the shooter had left as this trail was traveled often. If he waited around too long, there could be other travelers along. I moved down to my knees, then laid down as I approached the edge of the wall. There was little to no chance of me seeing any reflection as it was darkening and snow was now beginning to fall.
It was maybe thirty minutes or a little longer that I heard a wagon coming up the trail. As they approached, I let them get to the corner and then helloed them. Sitting on top of the wagon were a couple of miners taking supplies up the trail. Their wagon looked was full.
“Howdy, mister,” came one of the riders who was holding a rifle.
Both of them surveyed the situation. They saw me standing, holding a rifle, blood on my shoulder, and my horse a few yards up the trail. “Have some trouble?” he asked.
“A mite,” I replied. “Seems like a piece of lead nicked me, and figured I’d just sit down on the trail for a spell.”
The snow was falling harder now; looking around the man spoke. “Want me to take a looksee at yur shoulder? Ifn not, we need to be gettin’ on up the trail before the storm hits. Ifn yur goin’ down, I’d start movin’.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” I replied, going over to pick up the reins.
Putting the Henry back in the scabbard, I mounted. The driver moved up the road toward me and stopped. “Yuh look familiar.”
“I’ve been ’round. Used to work for Wells Fargo. Traveled many a time up to Silverton.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Yur one of the men that cheatin’ judge put out the wanted posters on. I remember you.”
“That’s me. You didn’t happen to see anyone comin’ up?” I asked.
“Nope, but ifn he’s smart, he’s pulled leather.” He looked up at the sky. “We’ve got to be goin’. Snow’s goin’ to come in harder before we get there as it is.”
He snapped the reins and they moved on up the rugged road. Looking around I decided he was right and I started Hawk on down toward Silverton. He would enjoy a warm stable more than being caught out in the weather. I might even stay awake long enough to get a nice bed of coals in the fireplace in my room.
The snow was coming down pretty good when we arrived in Silverton an hour later and because of the storm, darkness was already setting in. The streets were already covered and it looked as if more was on the way. Looking down Blair Street, it didn’t seem as if snow was hampering its business much. If it continued and those miners ran out of money, the bouncers would throw them out in the street. There was little mercy on those without money.
I took Hawk on down to the livery and told the kid working to grain him a little. Being out in the cold weather, he needed some good feed. I looked around, carefully, upon leaving the livery and walking toward my hotel. Before getting there I stopped at the restaurant to get supper. Things were quiet, almost too quiet. Maybe it was the storm that made things so serene. Snow can sure be pretty when it’s falling.
The menu boasted of elk chops, so I ordered that. It came with biscuits, potatoes, and some other white tuber that didn’t suit my taste. “What is that?” I asked the waitress.
“Turnip,” she replied. She looked closer at me. “Hurt your shoulder?”
I reached up to touch my shoulder. “Just a little.” The meal was so-so, definitely not as good as Molly’s place. The biscuits were hard, the elk was over-cooked in my mind, and the potatoes were on the edge of being old. The coffee wasn’t half bad though. Of course half-bad coffee is better than no coffee.
The waitress walked by again and I stopped her. “Any pie?” I asked.
“Not this time of day,” she said in a matter-of-fact manner.
I was drinking my third cup of coffee when by the window, the man I had seen the day before walked by. Coincidence? I didn’t believe in them. I jumped up and ran to the door as the waitress hollered for me.
Opening the door I went outside and…

After breakfast I eased out the door of the restaurant and looked around.  The man on the corner was not to be seen.  I moved on over to Hawk and mounted.  Since I didn’t have the Greener with me, I pulled my Henry from the scabbard.  Just having something in my hand made me feel more comfortable.  First stop, the smelter.  It was down the road on the edge of town.  They were in the process of building a new one, but that looked to be at least a year away.
I rode up to a shack that looked big enough to have an office.  Dismounting I just draped the reins over the post, there was no need to tie Hawk.  Working in there was a clerk behind a counter.
“Mornin’, name’s Miles Forrest.”  I pulled out my Secret Service badge.  “I’d like a look at your ledger.”
“Sorry, the ledger is private,” he said a little indignantly.
I slammed the Henry on the counter.  “Perhaps you didn’t hear me, or I didn’t make myself clear.  I would like a look at the ledger for the ore in and the bullion out.”
“And I said, I’m sorry, those are private accounts.”  Now he was getting a little huffy.
“Get your boss!”
He didn’t move one iota.  “I said, get your boss!”  Still no movement, and that sort of made my forehead wrinkle into a frown.  Guess I needed to get his attention so I thunked him alongside the head with the Henry.  That surely got his attention.  He rose and grabbed for a gun on the counter.  I took that as a cue he wasn’t going for the boss so I smashed the Henry down on his wrist, breaking it and making him drop the gun.
“Now,” I pointed the rifle at him.  I wasn’t about to shoot, but he needed to learn some manners.  “go get your boss.”
He hustled out of there holding his wrist up with the other hand, and went into the other room.
It was only a matter of seconds a man came out.  “What’s the meaning of all this?  My clerk’s hand is broken and now he will not be able to work!” he blustered.  “You’ll have to pay for his replacement!”
“A little courtesy on his part and he wouldn’t be in that condition.  Now, I need to look at your ledger.”
He bristled up, and made the same comment.  “No one looks at the ledger, it is private.”
I showed him my credentials.  He didn’t like it.  “I’ve never heard of any Secret Service.”
“Well then, I’ll have the U.S. Marshal up here and until that time I’ll get a court order for the books to be held down in the judge’s office.  Who knows how long that will take and you’ll not be able to make any transactions.  You make the call.”
“Show him the books, Delmor.”
“I can’t, my arm hurts too much.”
“Then get out of the way, so I can show him.”
I really didn’t know what to look for, but I made a good pretense.  I went through some of the pages, running my finger up and down a few columns.  “When do you plan on making a shipment?”
“The end of the month.  Snow could hit us at any time.”
I nodded.  “Any more ore to come in before then?”
“Not from any of the big mines.  Some small miners with larger claims might bring some in.  Most of them chip it out themselves; it’s not much.”
I put my finger on a number.  “So this is the weight that would be shipped if it went out tomorrow?”
He looked.  “There may be a little added to it when the work is finished today.”
“Thank you for your time, Mr. ?”
“Moriaty.  James B. Moriaty, supervisor.”
I started to walk out, then stopped.  “Delmor, I’d get that hand splinted, and learn some manners.”  Then I walked on out the door and mounted.  I didn’t think there would be any discrepancies.  In fact, I would know until the gold and silver was sent on down to Denver.  I had written down the amount of each that would be coming from this mill.
When I rode to the fork that would take me to town, I decided to ride up the canyon to the north for a ways.  Maybe talk to some miners and see what they thought of Silverton.  Most of these small miners didn’t want anything to do with the large companies.  However, most of them would give up their small claims and go to work for them.  That way, at least they would get steady pay.  Some had their hopes of getting rich so engrained in their minds that they would never give up, and would go on breaking rock and freezing in the cold water until the day they died.
I had ridden an hour or so, and figured I’d find a miner who might have the coffee on.  Going down by the stream and up the trail on the other side I felt a tug on my shoulder and then heard the shot.  It echoed through the canyon, so I didn’t know from where it came.  I jumped off Hawk, grabbed the Henry and pulled myself and horse close to the wall of the mountain.  Then I looked and the shoulder was seeping blood…

 I left Charlie Gold sitting in my chair at my table in the diner.  I told him not to get too comfortable with the seating arrangement.  He was much stronger and I was glad he would be around.  He would make sure Marta and Molly got home safely. Molly had her pistol and I left the Greener with her.  
Star hadn’t been ridden much, but I still decided on taking Hawk.  I would be riding up and down the canyons checking out the larger mines and Hawk was much better in the mountains.  I would save Star for my trip to Denver.  It was in my mind to ride to Silverton but the last few nights had been cold, and up there in the higher elevation it would be right at freezing and might even snow.  I didn’t relish laying out all night with it snowing.  Guess I was getting soft in my old age, but I noticed the ache in my bones when the cold weather started to set in.  Perhaps it was that winter a couple of years ago up north of Meeker.  I had nearly froze that winter.  Plus two days on the trail versus four to five hours by train.
I felt the cold creeping in while I was riding in the coach.  The days were gone where they kept a stove in each car, but they needed to do something to heat the train up.  Plus, now I had to buy coffee in a special car set up and it cost a dime.  Who would pay a dime for a cup of coffee?  Whatever happened to the days when it was kept on the stove and it was free?
Upon arriving in Silverton I took Hawk directly to the livery and told a boy working there to take care of her.  Silverton was sure growing and that’s one of the reasons I wanted to ride up to some of the mines; to check out the miners and what they thought of things.  Even thought I didn’t work with them anymore I stopped first at Wells Fargo to jaw with the guys, plus I knew they would have coffee on the stove and I could get a cup from them.  I didn’t think any irregularities would happen in this office.  If shipments were off it would be before arriving here to be shipped or somewhere before it reached the mint in Denver.
Leaving them I went and secured a hotel room and then went to get some supper.  Costs had gone up quite a bit since I had been here so I settled on a bowl of venison chili for $.25 and coffee came with the meal.  “Somebody, somewhere is making some money,” I thought to myself.
After eating I decided to take a walk up and down Blair Street.  Again, a person can get a feel of what is happening in a community by walking along the dives.  It was still a little early but the saloons and other places of iniquity were already doing business.  All of a sudden I felt strange; I wasn’t carrying the Greener.  It was the first time in years I hadn’t had it with me.  A shotgun is a wonderful deterrent; most of the time I just had to point it at someone and they would give a listen.  Made me feel like I was missing some of my clothing.
As I turned the corner, standing in front of one of the saloons what that hardcase I saw back in the Diner in Durango.  He saw me, and quickly went inside.  I felt a chill, ah, getting foolish in my old age.  The sun had been smothered by the mountains and the cold of the evening was starting to creep down my neck.  I pulled up my collar and decided to walk on back to the hotel.
In my room, I started a little fire in the fireplace and then sat on the bed.  Then the struggle began with my boots.  I guarantee that when I do plenty of walking my foot just grows to the inside of my boots.  After finally getting them off, I lay back on the bed.  I could hear the wind picking up and would need to add another log to the fire before going to sleep.
My mind started whirling.  I started thinking of things that had happened in the past few years.  Sometimes when a body gets along and finally gets still all kinds of things will go through their mind.  Some of it is reflection and thrown in with that is regret.  I had been thinking of the times when law enforcement was getting to me.  It seemed as if I could work through the issue that I often had to shoot and men died.  Too often I also saw the forces of evil at work.  Molly and the good Lord had helped me through that hard time.
Laying there I got to thinking of the time I had to search for my friend, Elias Butler.  He went through such a time after working a case with the Rangers back in Texas.  Then a chill went through me again, and I woke up.  I had fallen asleep on top of the covers, the fire had gone out, and I was downright cold.  
I finally made it through the night.  After washing my face in the cold water in the basin I headed on back to the restaurant for breakfast.  Just before I entered I looked to the corner, and there stood the hardcase, watching me.  I felt the chill down my spine…