Molly brought me a nice slice of butterscotch pie.  It seemed like forever since I put a fork into a piece of one of her pies.  What could be better?  Hot coffee, a piece of pie, and my gal sitting next to me? Maybe that was the problem. I was just getting too comfortable. 
We were sitting there and I told her of what took place up in Silverton.  “I’m glad he was gone Miles.  I would hate for you to arrest him, no matter what he may have done.”
I nodded at her and took a sip while she continued.  “And he even gave you a message.  Do you think he is really headed for California or just said that to add more confusion?”
Looking up I saw Willis pass through the doorway.  Seems he is always bringing me bad news and I think it might be the person that was with him.  They came right over to the table and interrupted my coffee sipping. 
“Mister Forrest, this here’s Mr. Bartholomew from the Denver office.” 
He reached out his hand, but I had my cup in my right hand and didn’t feel the need to put it down.  I glanced at Molly and she gave me one of her famous scowls.  “Have a seat.  Either of you gents want some coffee?”
They both nodded, so I got up to get a couple of cups.  I wasn’t ready to offer them a piece of pie, but then Molly went and spoiled it with her generosity.  “Mister Bartholomew, Willis, could I offer you a piece of butterscotch pie?”
“Coffee’s good for me, but thank you…Mrs. Forrest?”
I was some relieved, when Willis blurted out.  “I’d sure be obliged for a piece of your pie.”
I handed each of them their coffee when Bartholomew asked.  “Do you have any cream and sugar?  This coffee looks very strong.”
“It’s up on the counter over there,” I said curtly.  Cream and sugar, what else will he want?  I wasn’t about to get up when Molly came back from the kitchen with Willis’ pie and said that she would get it for him.
“I’ll get right down to it Mr. Forrest.  The Denver office of Wells Fargo is quite concerned over your handling of the murder that was committed by this Trenton fellow.  And…”
I cut him off.  “You sound as if he has already been tried, and there’s no evidence to show that he did it, or that he was even on that train.”
He didn’t like it that I cut him off.  “Nevertheless, he was a friend of yours and there is reason to believe that you let him go.”
That did it.  I stood up and let go with a punch to his nose.  If I have to punch that where I like to hit.  It doesn’t hurt my hand as much and it sure does all kinds of damage to the person:  watery eyes, blood spurting.  Almost made me not notice the ache in my hand.
“I don’t know where you’re from, but out here we don’t take lightly when a person’s name and honor is impugned.  A less patient man than myself might have just shot you.”
Molly had rushed to the kitchen to get a towel for his nose.  As she gave it to him, I continued.  “Now, if you would like to continue your conversation I’ll listen.”
The nose stopped bleeding in short order, but it had dripped into his coffee.  I wasn’t about to offer him a fresh cup.  “The office wants you to go after this Trenton or it will deem it necessary to relieve you of your position.”
“Hmmmm, now let me see if I’ve got this right.  I’m to go to California to look for Trenton or I’ll lose my job?  California is a big place and if he’s a few weeks ahead of me he could be gone from San Francisco before I even get there.” 
I decided to take a pause and eat another bite.  I noticed that Willis had already finished his.  “Why not have the Wells Fargo people in California look for him?”
“You know what he looks like,” came the reply.
“If this is the Trenton I know, he has one eye.  Seems like those agents in California could be lookin’ for that.  Don’t seem to reason that there would be many walkin about with only one eye.”
“Mister Bartholomew, you tell the higher ups back in Denver that if Trenton is apprehended then I’ll go fetch him back.”

There was something funny about the one-eyed man.  Walking over to him I could see that he had long, shaggy hair that flopped out over his coat.  His hat was pulled down over one side.  Could he be hiding something?
As I stood behind him I spoke, “Trenton.”  He moved just a mite when I spoke the name and then slowly turned in his chair.
“You speaking to me?” he asked in a snarl.
“Mind if I sit?” I was relieved it wasn’t Trenton.
“Suit yourself,” again the snarl.  Was he trying to act tough for my benefit?
I pulled out a chair and sat down.  “You got a name?”  I asked.  It was not normally considered polite to ask a person his name, but I was not in a polite mood and this was official business.
“Depends on who’s asking!”
“How’s ’bout Deputy U.S. Marshal Miles Forrest,” I said with a little snap to my reply.
That brought a little smile to the edge of his mouth.  “Wilmore, Jacob Wilmore.  That suit you?”
“Does for now.  I’m looking for a one-eyed man; sorta fits your description.”  I laid the Greener on the table, pointed at him, and cocked it.  That brought a rise to his eyebrows and I was certain now I had his full attention.  “Do you happen to remember where you were two weekends ago?”
He smiled, “Right here or down at the livery.  I do odd errands for the folks about,” he paused.  “Mind telling me why you’re asking?”
I uncocked the Greener, but held onto it.  “Seems as if there was a killin’ on the train from Durango to Denver.  There weren’t no witnesses, but for some reason there is suspicion that a one-eyed man was the perpetrator.”
A scowl came on his face.  “Why’s that?”
“The dead man had his eye cut out, plus an ear cut off,” I stopped and looked him in the eye.  “Take off the patch!”
“Now there’s no need…”
“Take it off yourself, or I’ll lay this shotgun alongside your head and take it off myself!”
He smiled again and reached up to take his hat off.  I cocked the Greener. 
“You’re a careful one, ain’t you?  I have to take off my hat to slip off the patch.”
“Figured so,” I said.  “That other eye of yours never wanted to focus on me.  Now tell me, why the patch?”
“‘Bout a week and a half ago, this man with one-eye, tall, slim gent, came up to me and asked if I wanted to make $50.  Now, marshal, that’s almost two months pay, so I asked him what I needed to do.  He handed me an eye-patch and said wear it for thirty days, and he paid me.”
“He still here?”
“Not that I know of.  He said, most likely a man would be up this way looking for him.  Fellow by the name of Forrest, and that would be you.”
“I don’t suppose he said where he would be going?”  I asked.
“Mister Marshal, he rightly did.  He said he was heading for California and planned on getting on a ship to one of them there islands out there and spend the rest of his days,” pausing and rubbing his eye.  “He said he was your friend, and didn’t want to cause you no trouble.”
I nodded.  “Well, Jacob Wilmore,” I put out my hand in a gesture of friendship.  “How’s ’bout I buy you supper?  I could use a cup of coffee.”

Funny how situations and circumstances can change things. I had planned on riding up to Silverton, but heard that the passes were still closed. Some who crossed said that I would need snowshoes, but neither Hawk or Star walk well in them. I suppose they were strong enough to break through the snow, but then I didn’t hanker to be camping in it either. Over the years I’ve had plenty of camping in the snow. The bones were getting too old for that.
So I sat in the railcar on the train. Sure missed the stove and coffee they used to keep, but the clamor out there said that it was too dangerous to have a stove in the car. Now I sit, bundled up and still cold. There is talk that next summer they might add a car where we can eat and get coffee, but that sure don’t help me none now.
The rackety rattle of the train moving up toward Silverton did hurt my pondering though. Sure was thinking about the move to Denver. Most likely I would make more money, but then it would cost more to live there. Molly would be around more people, but was that really important as she had good friends in Durango? Plus that ate at me as well. Too many people. Here I was in a people-oriented job, but I really didn’t cotton much to having a lot of folk around me.
As soon as I arrived at the station I went to the Wells Fargo office. I figured they would have coffee on the stove. It may be April, but it was still rather cold, and I knew that at night the temperature would really drop. All of sudden I was glad I wasn’t on Hawk and camped out along the trail in the mountains. A shiver went through me just thinking about it.
I wasn’t to be disappointed. The guys at the office had the coffee sitting on the stove, and it was freshly made as they had already finished off one pot. We did our pleasantries and then I asked if they had seen a one-eyed man.
One clerk, Dobbins, I think was his name, said that he hadn’t but that Radcliff might have as he sometimes frequents that part of town. I didn’t have to ask what part for there was a well-known section of Silverton that dealt with the devil’s devices. Trenton wasn’t the type of man who would normally be caught in that evil-den, but being an outlaw will force a person to do and go places he wouldn’t normally.
“Not sure, Miles, but I thought I saw a man up there with a patch over his eye,” said Radcliff.
“Guess I’ll go get my room and get something to eat and then wait for night and take in the view myself.” I disliked the thought of going up to the devil’s playground, but then, that’s where I find most of the vermin I was looking for.
Evil, desperate men and women, and darkness seem to always go together. I checked into the hotel and the first thing I did was to check my weapons. I wiped them off and checked the loads. Silverton was not a place that you walked around without being alert and prepared. “Hmmm,” I thought, “Walking into the devil’s territory it didn’t pay to be nonchalant and careless.”
Whatever the sinful nature wanted could be found. There were saloons, gaming dens, dance halls, and brothels. Around any darkened corner might be lurking someone waiting to crack your head and take your hard-earned gold. I really disliked this part of my job; it always made my stomach queasy.
I stuck to the gaming halls and saloons. It was down the street when I walked into one saloon and spotted, sitting in the corner, a one-eyed man. He had his hat on, but his hair was long and flowed over his shoulders. Sighing I took the Greener out of the crook of my arm, cocked it, and walked to the table where he was sitting.

Do you want to move to Denver?” asked Molly.
Hesitating, I took a sip of coffee. “We don’t have much here.”
“We have the restaurant.”
“Yeah, and where do we sleep? The back of the kitchen,” I replied with a little disgust in my voice.
She placed a hand on my arm. “Pour a cup of that coffee for me, please.”
“I wouldn’t like Denver, but there are some nice places along the Front Range.”
“Mines, miners–the same as here,” she paused. “Those towns have just been around longer. They’ve risen and died several times.”
“It would be different than when I worked there a few years back. There is more law and order; more civilization.” I got up to refill my cup and looked at her.
“Just top it off.”
“I want you to be safe; I don’t want to worry about you. With more people around, well, that should provide more safety.”
“Miles, more people, more problems,” quipped Molly.
“No!” came the shout from the edge of the kitchen. “You cannot leave. Lucas, my mother, I; we all need the both of you.” It seemed that Marta had been listening from the kitchen.
She walked slowly toward us, her hands clinched into fists. Stopping in front of us, she was trembling. “Marta….”
“What have we done to make you leave? You do not have to worry about us; we have been able to do so for years.”
“Marta, will you sit with us?” asked Molly calmly and quietly.
I stood to pull out a chair, and then poured her a cup of coffee. “You both tell me to trust in the Lord. Have either of you inquired of His wants?”
Molly and I looked at each other. “Marta, I want her, I want all of you to be safe. They call this place the “Shooting Gallery. What kind of name is that for a eatery?”
I waited for a response. “But yur right. I haven’t been thinkin’ right. I need, we all need to do some prayin’ about it.”
At that time the door opened. I saw Marta and Molly both cringe at the sound. There was an edge of nervousness, but it was just Willis from the office with a telegram from Wells Fargo in Denver.
“Evidence seems to point to a man named Trenton….stop….reports that he is at Silverton….stop….go check.”
Molly put her hand on my arm again. “Oh, Miles, what will you do?”
“Willis, send a reply that I’ll head out tomorrow mornin’.” I looked at Molly. “I didn’t want this and I know Trenton didn’t. I was hopin’ he had taken off for Mexico.”
“I’ll ride up there. That’ll give me some time to think and pray, but first I’ll have another cup of coffee.”