Sooner or later I knew it was going to happen. I had just finished pouring a cup of coffee and sat down at my table in the diner. Molly was going to bring me a piece of apple pie as soon as it cooled when Charlie Gold walked in. He was still a little weak and did not walk with his former brisk step, but he was glaring at me as he approached.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he snapped.
“Tell you what?”
“You know good and well what I’m talking about–Billy Denton!”
“Sit down Charlie, and simmer down or you’re liable to bust that gut open. I’ll pour you a cup of coffee.” I was afraid that he was going to keep ranting, but he took a seat.
Setting his cup down next to him, I saw a different person than just walked through that door. He had just released a little bit of rage that he’d been keeping and figured I was the guy that could take it. Right now, looking at him, with him slumped over, I felt really sorry. He had the look of a man who had lost everything.
“I didn’t tell you Charlie, because first you had to get your strength back.”
“You didn’t think I could take it; is that it?” he came back rebuffing me.
“I wasn’t sure. You were in bad shape. I reckoned that one thing was to be taken at a time,” I paused and took a sip. “I’ve been talkin’ to Foster and he is tryin’ to get your job back to you. Denton is Billington’s man, and right now he has an edge on the council.”
“You know what Denton’s like,” said Charlie.
Nodding, “I tried to tell the city council that, and now Foster knows and Wilson is coming around, but until he does something wrong I reckon Durango is stuck with him.”
“What do I do about my bills? I went to get my things from my room at the hotel after I found out about Denton and they had given him my room and kept my goods for payment.”
Part of the marshal’s pay was free room and board at the hotel. Charlie had found out that as soon as Denton became marshal they started charging him for the room. Doc Jones was no problem and neither was Charlie, for I knew he was good for his debts.
“Let’s go get your things,” I said and downed the rest of my coffee.
We strolled over to the hotel and Limmler was at the desk. He was beady-eyed, but from all accounts an honest man. “Charlie’s come to pick up his things,” I said.
“Marshal Gold, glad to see you’re up and around. The townfolk have been praying for you,” he stopped and looked at me. “Sorry, but I can’t release his things as they are being held for payment of the room. I heard Mr. Billington tell Mr. Newsome to hold them.”
“Newsome in?” I asked and started walking toward his office.
“Yes, but…”
I walked in and found Newsome at his desk. Newsome was one of Billington’s “yes men” on the council. “Marshal Gold is here for his things.”
“Now just a minute, you can’t barge in here like this!” exclaimed Newsome.
“I just did.”
“Miles, let me handle this. It’s my stuff and my fight.”
I stepped aside. “Have at him Charlie. Want me to go get Doc or a court order?”
“Newsome don’t seem to remember the nights I’ve had to come in here and throw out some drunk.”
“By the way, how much does Charlie seem to owe you?” I asked.
Newsome was sweating some now. “Five dollars.”
“I’ll go get the Judge. Seems to me that you are being swindled Charlie. That nice holster alone is worth at least $7.” I turned to leave. “Sure hope you don’t trip and fall before I get back.”
Starting out the door, I heard Newsome call. “Okay, okay. I was only holding them because I was told by Billington. I’m beginning to wish Charlie was marshal again. I’ve had trouble the last few nights with some miners and the new marshal hasn’t done a thing.”
When Charlie had his clothes, gun and holster back we turned and left and started back to the diner. “I’ve got to make a trip to Silverton, Charlie. I’d like for you to stay close to the diner and keep and eye on things for me, ifn you don’t mind.”
I didn’t figure he’d mind with Marta being there, plus I received a telegram to check the mines and mills at Silverton since I wasn’t able to come to Denver.

Charles Gold!  You get back in that bed!” ordered Marta angrily.  “You’ll break all those stitches and start bleeding again!”
“I’ve been layin’ here for two weeks, I’ve got to get up,” Charlie responded.
“Let him up, Marta.  We can help him across the street to the diner and he can rest in there.  I’ve a feelin’ that he won’t want to walk much more than that.  Plus we can get some of my coffee in him system.  Build that blood right back up.”
“Miles, I think I’d rather lay back down than drink your coffee,” he moaned.
We got him out of bed and into his pants and boots.  It took us a mite ’cause he was so weak.  Standing him up we stepped aside to see if he could hold his balance.  He was a little woozy, but after several seconds he took a step.  From there we helped him across the street.  Just as we stepped on the boardwalk that led into the diner I could hear him huffing and puffing and sweat had broken out on his forehead.
There was only one table being used by a couple of miners and we helped Charlie back to the table by the stove.  He plunked himself down in the chair with a groan.
“You sit right there Charlie, I’ll go get you something,” said Marta.
He looked at me with a sick grin.  “Did she think I was goin’ to get up and run off somewhere?”
I reached for a couple of cups and went to the stove for coffee.  Molly kept a large pot going in the kitchen, while I usually kept this pot going on the stove where I could reach it easily.  “Here yuh go,” and put the cup in front of him.
“Ahhhh, that makes the innards feel better.”
Charlie took a sip and put the cup down.  “Just as terrible as I remembered.”
Marta came running out of the kitchen with a big piece of chocolate pie.  Molly followed her out, wiping her hands on her apron.  She sat it down in front of Charlie.
I looked at Marta, and then turned my attention to Molly.  Then I reached over.  “Marta, I’m ashamed on you.  Charlie can’t eat anything like this until the Doc says.  Might do something to that belly wound of his.”
Charlie grabbed his fork and held it toward me like a lethal weapon.  “Just you try.”
That got both girls giggling some and Molly went back to the kitchen and came out with a piece for me, though not near as big as Charlie’s.  The miners got up to leave and I noticed that one of them was staring at our table.  When I caught his eye, he quickly adverted it and walked on out.  Molly went over and cleaned off their table and then came back and set down.
“Need to be walkin’ some,” Charlie said.  “I need to be gettin’ back down to the office.”
“Don’t worry ’bout that none,” I said.
“Whose been doin’ my rounds?”
“Like I said, don’t worry ’bout that, I’ve been covernin’ for you.”  I wasn’t quite ready to tell him that the great men of Durango’s city council had hired another marshal.
“Miles, any word about those two owlhoots that robbed McClendon’s?” asked Charlie.
“I’ve not heard anything.  I’ve checked throughout the town, but haven’t had time to ride the countryside.”
“Doin’ my job,” he said frustrated.
“Let me tell you, as soon as you’re able you can have it right back.”  In the back of my mind I was thinking that I had to get Foster to someway get rid of Denton before Charlie was up and able to move about.
I could see that Charlie was getting tired.  “Think it’s ’bout time you went back to your nice cozy bed.  Doc’ll be glad you’re up and he’ll want you out.  You see if you can walk over here for breakfast tomorrow by yourself.”
Marta and I helped him up and walked him back to his bed.  By the time we pulled his boots off, he was tuckered out.  I left him, holding Marta’s hand and his eyes closing.
Doc Jones came in as I was walking out.  “We took Charlie over to the diner.”  He started to rush back.  “Nah, Doc, he’s in good hands.  You can check him later.”
Doc went over and peeked in the room.  I walked on out the door and started back for the diner.  About halfway across the street I decided to go down to the marshal’s office.

Molly was keeping me busy cleaning up tables and waiting on a few.  Aniha was doing most of the cooking and it seemed we were busier than ever, or maybe it was just because I was wearing the apron.  
I had rushed down to the doctor’s office and he sent me in to see Charlie.  His eyes finally opened, and there was some color back in his cheeks.  
“Whatya bring your ugly face in here for?” he said in a husky voice.  
I clasped his good shoulder and then left.  Hurrying over to the diner I grabbed Marta and told her to run to Charlie.  That’s when Molly grabbed my arm and took me to the kitchen.  “Here!” she ordered.  “Put this on.  It’ll fit, sort of like wearing chaps.”
What she had given me was an apron.  I was fumbling around with it when she said.  “If you’re going to take my help away, you have to take her place.”  Then she laughed.  “Oh, Marshal Forrest, you are too cute!  Now get out there and clean the tables and fill up coffee cups.  I’ll take most of the orders.”
It went along pretty well.  I didn’t spill a drop of coffee on a customer.  The rush hour was almost over and then some hardcases walked in.  I could almost smell them before I saw them.  I was pouring coffee for ol’ Benjamin when I caught the eye of one of them.  They went on over to a table, but their aroma totally followed them.
They looked like hide hunters.  All three of them had long, scraggly, greasy hair.  Two wore buckskin outfits while the third wore a torn, dirty, flannel shirt.
One started banging on the table.  “Where is the service in this joint?  We want some coffee and beer now!”
Well, I hadn’t spilt any coffee until they caused that commotion.  I heard Benjamin give a yelp.  Seemed I missed the cup and poured it on his wrist and he dropped the cup, which naturally broke.
“Sorry, Ben.  I’ll get something to wipe this up,” and used the front of my apron for his hand, but had to go to the kitchen for a rag and another cup.
Molly had gone over to the table of discontents.  “I’ll bring you men some coffee, but we don’t serve any alcohol here.”
One of the men in leather grabbed her and pulled her to his lap.  “Well, pretty lady, beer ain’t rightly alcohol.  Why don’t you run on down to the saloon and get some for us?”  He pushed her up and gave her a little pat, which I saw coming out of the kitchen.
“Have your sweet helper bring us the coffee,” said the one in flannel and gave a laugh.
She ignored them and went to get cups.  When she brought them back.  One grabbed the cup and slammed it on the table spilling the coffee.  The other two emptied their cups on the floor.
“I said, he would pour the coffee!”
“Hey, waitress,” called the one in flannel.  “How ’bout a refill on the coffee.  Lady here got sloppy.”
I had finished wiping the floor but had not stopped watching them.  Standing up I moved toward the stove to get the coffeepot.  Molly intercepted me.  “Miles, don’t start anything,” she whispered.
I smiled at her.  “Molly, you know I never do the startin’.”
As I approached the table one remarked.  “My don’t he look cute in that apron.”  He reached out his cup and motioned for me to pour.  
The pot was freshly made therefore was full.  For some reason I was distracted and poured the hot coffee on his hand.
“Why you…”
Before the one in leather could react I threw what was left of the coffee in his face, scalding it.  He let out a scream.  One was grabbing his burnt wrist and then decided to go for his gun.  While he was fumbling with it I slapped him in the face with the coffee pot.  “This is for makin’ me waste a pot of good coffee.”  And I hit him a second time.
I don’t know if the third man was just a dimwit or was watching the show.  But he finally started to move when I grabbed a chair at the next table and brought it down over his head.  That put him out of the fight.
Now back to leatherman.  His face was red and looked like it would blister.  He reached for his belt and pulled out a Bowie knife.  I’m goin’ to slice out yur guts!”
Reaching under my apron I drew my Schofield and slashed his face, now opening his skin since it was baked and tender.  His hand went to his face and I hit his wrist with the pistol, most likely breaking it and forced the knife to fall.
Two men were now completely out of it so I turned my attention back to the man in flannel.  This time with a cocked gun.  “Now I think it’s time for you boys to leave, that is unless yur still hungry.  I can give you a ration of lead, right quick.”
“We’ll see yuh ‘gin,” he said.
“I don’t figure anytime soon.”  
The man with the scalded face was in a world of hurt and couldn’t help carry out the man I cold-cocked with the chair.  “Get out!” I ordered.
Finally, they struggled out.  I muttered more to myself than anyone.  “Now, to make a fresh pot of coffee.”
I turned and looked at Molly.  “Miles, I told…”

 I sent a telegram to Marshal Blasco to inform him that I would be delayed in coming to Denver.  I didn’t go into detail, but told him that a friend needed my assistance.
Charlie’s condition hadn’t changed.  “Doc, what’d think?”
“Miles, I wish I knew.  This is beyond what I know.  He is still pale, and hasn’t regained consciousness.  I just don’t know.”
When he said “pale” I looked around but didn’t see or smell the Pale Rider.  ‘Course that doesn’t mean he wasn’t around.  I don’t always see him.  We tried to convince Marta to go home, but she refused.  She would leave only during the rush hours for the diner and then return.  Doc fixed her up a little pallet so she could stay there.  Seemed that her feelings toward Charlie went pretty deep.
I went to the marshal’s office a couple of times a day.  Usually Denton was there.  He seemed to be earning his pay by simply sitting in Charlie’s chair behind his desk.  One day I went to Foster and mentioned it to him.  
“Who’s walking the streets at night?  I haven’t noticed your new marshal doin’ much.”
“Stay out of it Miles,” he ventured.
“Wilson, what happens when trouble comes?  Who checks your doors at night?  Who is walking the streets to keep the riff-raff under control?
I could see he was a little agitated.  “How do you know he isn’t out there at night?”
“Because I am.”  Wilson was a good man, but he could be coerced into doing things Billington’s way.  “There are good people in this town, and someone needs to take care of them.  Denton surely ain’t!”
“I’ll call the town council together and see if we can’t light a little fire under the marshal.”
“You do that Wilson,” and I turned and walked away from him.
I walked on down to the marshal’s office.  Denton was in his usual place and I went around behind the desk.  “Hey, you can’t come in here and do as you please.”
I stared at him.  I surely wanted to say more, but I stayed very cool and calm.  “I want to take those wanted posters for McClendon to look at.”
“You can’t take them out of the office!  I forbid it!”
“Want to stop me, Billy?”  I stared at him again.  “What you need to do is get up and walk ’round this town a few times.  Get the feel of it, know the people,” I paused not moving my stare.  “How many times have you walked in Mexican town?”
“I’m not going down there!” he exclaimed.
“They’re citizens of Durango; it’s your job.”  I grabbed the posters and started for McClendon’s.
Upon entering his store, I saw him straightening up some shelves behind the counter.  He kept his store neat and organized.  Food items in one place, dry goods in another, leather goods in another, I just happened to catch him putting some stock of canned goods on the shelf.  What they aren’t coming up with now?  I saw peaches in a can, and tomatoes in another.  I guess that’s called progress.
He turned as I approached, “Well, howdy there Miles.  What can I do for you?”
“Are there really tomatoes in that can?” I asked.
He smiled and reached up and picked out a can and opened a drawer with some kind of gadget in it.  He hooked it on the lip of the can and began to work it around the edge until the lid popped off.  Walking over to this little table where he kept a few items he grabbed up a fork and gave it to me.
“Try one,” he said with a big smile.
I forked something that looked sorta like a tomato and stuck it in my mouth.  He smiled even bigger as my eyes widened.  I sucked the juices out and then chewed it up.  “Tomato?” he asked.
“Yeah, and not bad.”  I forked up another one.  Before I proceeded to stuff it in my mouth I said, “Take a look at these posters; see if any of them could be the men that came in here.”
I put the tomato in my mouth and took the can from his hand.  After eating I swallowed some of the juice in the can.  McClendon was going through the posters and suddenly stopped.  “This one, he was the one that Marshal Gold shot,” and handed me the poster.
“Johnson Spigget, sometimes known as “Dutch John.”  There was a $250 reward on him for robbery.
“Sorry, Miles, but the other man isn’t here.”
“Still, we now have a name to go on.  I’m goin’ to contact Cook down in Denver, and see if his association can’t give me some up-to-date information.”  
I looked at McClendon a little sheepishly.  “Only one left.”
He laughed, “First can’s on the house.  Go ask Molly.  She buys them by the case.”
I gave him a funny look, and then the boy, Henry ran into the store.  “Marshal Forrest, come quick!  Doc needs you…”