Running to the cabin I slowed as I neared.  I didn’t want to rush into a situation and at least not know the layout.  I peeked in the window.  Close to the fireplace was this ugly looking, very large man holding Lucas with a knife to his throat.  Molly was next to the bed, the large man from time-to-time would point his knife at her, and there was another man not too far from the door.
There was the danger that Lucas could be severely injured or killed if I barged in, but on the other hand this was no time to tip-toe and politely knock on the door.  I held the Greener in my left hand; this was not the time to be using it in close quarters. 
Pulling my Schofield I eased on up to the door.  “Lord,” I whispered.  “Be with Lucas,” and I went through the door.  Swinging my pistol and thumped the man standing close to it on the head.  He dropped with a thud and I pulled it up and cocked it aiming it at the large man.
“Better not be too hasty, Forrest,” he barked.  “I’ll slit the boy’s throat.”
I could see the knife touching it drawing just a little blood.
“Lower your gun.  I said lower it!”
For the most part, he was totally hidden behind Lucas.  I lowered the gun; figured I could get it back up pretty quickly.
“Now drop it!” he barked again.
“Not going to happen,” I replied.
“I’ll cut him!”
“And I’ll put a bullet between your eye-balls.”
There was a faint laugh. “Worth the boy’s life?”
“Worth your life?” I retorted.
“Forrest, you’re worth a sum of money to me.  The way I figure it right now, I’m in the best place in the bidding.”
He stood up, keeping Lucas in his arms.  I could see Lucas try and struggle and the man pressed the knife to his throat, drawing a little more blood.  “I’m walking out with the boy.  I’ll release him when I get to my horse.”
“Think I’ll join you on your little stroll.”
He laughed again.  “I don’t think you trust me.  Tell you what.  I’ll leave him here if I have your promise not to come after me for thirty minutes.”
“I might be tempted not to keep my promise.”
“Tempted yes, but you’ll keep it.  You’re a God-fearing man.”
“What do you go by?” I asked.  “I don’t recall your face on any posters.”
“Go by lots of things.  You can use Dreg,” he paused.  “I’ll be back Forrest; you’re worth some money to me and my boys.”
“Come after me; leave my friends and family alone.”
“Not what I was paid to do.  I was paid to hurt you.”
“I’ll shoot you on sight next time.”
There came the laugh again.  “You won’t see me next time.”  He tossed Lucas on the floor and was out the door.
There was a little gasp from Molly.  “Miles, what are we going to do?”
“Tomorrow, we’ll get a tree for the eatery and trim it.  Maybe I’ll eat a piece of one of those Christmas pies you’ll make.  We’ll plan a party for Christmas and get ready to look to the One who came to this earth to redeem us.”
“You’re not afraid?”
“Not for myself.  I’m a mite concerned for you, Lucas, and my other friends.”  I went to her and held her.  “I trust in the Lord and He’ll help us, and I’ll not let anyone harm you.”
Lucas was holding his neck.  “Senor Miles, I didn’t cry.”
“Yur becomin’ quite the man.  Let Molly bandage that up.”

We rushed to the Wells Fargo office and had to push through a crowd that was already beginning to gather.  I went through the door and laying there was Jim, holding his gun in his hand but shot two or three times.  Taking in the scene quickly I saw Tom, tied to a chair in the doorway of the vault.  I went over to him and saw that his throat has been slashed and there seemed to be several other knife wounds–tortured.
About that time Charlie Gold, the marshal broke through the crowd along with Doc Jones.  I heard a groan from the wall and started over there, but Doc beat me to it. 
“Sam, you and Lowell get these folk out of this room!” ordered Charlie to his deputies.  Then he went over to where I was standing and looking at Tom.
I muttered to Charlie, “He had a wife and kid at home.  Some Christmas for them.”
I started over to where Doc was working on the other man when Charlie grabbed my arm.  “Miles, they left a message for you.”
He pulled me over to the counter.  There was an ear and an eye-ball laying there with a note.  “Forrest, here are your eyes and ears.”  Then I saw it.  I hadn’t seen it in several months, maybe years–the Devil’s Grin.
“Miles,” spoke Doc.  “He’s asking for you.”
I walked over and bent down.  “Miles, don’t be startled, he’s had an…”
“Ear cut off and eye cut out,” I finished his sentence. 
“Miles,” it was Trenton and he was struggling to speak.  “Miles, they aim to hurt you.  I tried…” and he passed out.
I looked at Doc.  “Will he make it?”
“Not sure.  He’s been shot a couple of times.  We need to get him over to my office so I can better examine him.”
“Charlie, get a couple of men to ride around the town.  There’s enough new snow that there’s a good chance we’ll spot their tracks.”
“Oh, and Marshal, I need two men to help me carry this man to my office,” said Doc.
I took off my coat and laid it over his head and chest.  I didn’t want the on-lookers to see Trenton in this condition.  “Careful,” said Doc.  “He has some wounds.”
“I’m going to make the round with my men.  I’ll be down soon as I’ve come back in,” said Charlie.
Walking out of the office I noticed a familiar face in the crowd.  Anger started to well up in me, and I walked to him.  He saw me coming.
“Well Forrest, surprised to see you’re in Durango.  I saw the crowd and came over to see what was going on.”
“After I run down the men directly responsible, I’ll be back for you!” I exclaimed.
“You heard him!  You folks here, heard him threatening me!  I know the law!  I’ll bring suit!”
I jerked the Greener up under his chin and lifted him to his toes.  “Wray!  I don’t make threats!  You want me, you come after me!”
Releasing him I hurried on down to Doc’s office.  He had Trenton undressed.  His face and head looked a mess, covered with blood.  But Doc was working on his side.  “Hold him Miles, just in case he jerks.  One bullet when through him, but there is one lodged in his shoulder I have to get out.  I’ve got the blood stopped, but have to get this lead out.”
It took a while for Doc to locate the bullet.  It hit a rib high up and it deflected it across to his neck.  Doc was sweating.  “Lord help him,” I whispered.
Doc grunted and pulled the bullet out but with it came a flood of blood.  “I hoped I wouldn’t nick a vein,” he said.  “Press here, hard!  I have to try and pack it.”
It took several minutes but finally the flow stopped.  We looked at each other.  “I don’t know, Miles, I just don’t know.”  He then began to clean Trenton’s face and head.  It was a gory sight.  “These men are butchers,” he said through clinched teeth.  “Plain out and out butchers.”
Doc had just finished cleaning up Trenton and patched up his eye and ear when Charlie Gold came through the door.  “It looks like they’re headed south.  Not sure, but I have one of the boys trailing that way,” he paused and looked at Trenton. 
“Don’t know,” I said.  “Only time and the Lord.”
“Miles, we trailed them south, but two cut off to the east.  I figured they might circle back to town.”
I looked at Trenton and his words came to me.  “They aim to hurt you.”
I rushed out the door over to the eatery and burst in scaring Marta.  “Where’s Molly?” 
Her eyes were wide.  “She and Lucas went up to the cabin.”

This trip seemed to take forever.  There was a foot of snow on the road, and a little more in the higher elevations.  The horses had to work harder pulling through the snow so that slowed the trip.  There were no clouds, and the sun reflected brightly off the snow.  Both the driver, Spud Carson, and I did our best to cover our eyes; snow blindness was irritating and painful.  With the sun shining so brightly one would think it would be warm, but I’m sure the temperature hovered around zero.
I was so bundled up, if we were attacked by outlaws I’m not sure I could even get the shotgun into position to fire.  Spud had a couple of buffalo robes and we threw one around our shoulders and the other over our legs and feet.  It must have helped, but my toes were still like icicles.  I didn’t figure on an attack.  Outlaws may be dumb, but they’d be downright stupid to be out in this cold, plus the fact that we weren’t carrying much.  There was one passenger in the back who was on his way to the Mormon town up on Salt Lake.
We were halfway through the fifth day when we returned to Durango.  It took almost a day longer than the usual trip.  Maybe it was my imagination, but I think it was warming up a bit; perhaps it was ten degrees now.
“Hurry up and unload that strongbox, Forrest.  I want to get rid of these horses and this stage and head for a hot bath.  I think my blood is starting to freeze.”
I grabbed the box and pulled it down.  As I was hurrying into the office Spud took off.  I turned it over to the clerks and had them sign for it.  There was only a couple of hundred dollars in it, but that would add to the money in the safe.  I thought about going for a bath, but figured I should go check in with Molly first. 
It would be warm in the eatery, so I ran and slipped on over there.  It made me pity the horses some, for it was hard work in that snow where there weren’t any paths.  As soon as I entered the eatery I sighed.  Ahhh, it was warm and my table was open and I knew there would be coffee on the stove.
“Miles,” came the sound that I longed to hear.  Nothing better than that when I came home off a job.  “Sit down, I’ll bring some elk stew out to you.”
Taking off my coat I threw it in the chair and grabbed a cup for coffee.  We were breaking in a new pot as the other received a bullet hole meant for me.   I drank that cup fast and was pouring another when Molly came out with the stew.
I was sitting facing the stove hoping my toes might come back to life.  Molly came on around.  “Let me get those boots off you,” and she started tugging them off.  I don’t know what felt better, the warmth of the stove on my frozen feet or the heat of the coffee going down my gullet.
Molly reached to the table and handed me my stew.  “Eat this and get warmed up.”  She started rubbing my neck and shoulders.  Now there was a new feeling added to the coffee and stove.  You call it what you want, spoiled or blessed, I was taking it either way.
“Miles, did you have any trouble?” she asked.
“No, just the cold.” 
She stopped her rubbing.  “There’s been several asking questions of you.”
I turned around and put the empty bowl on the table.  As I was taking a sip there were shots.  I started up, when Molly’s hands pushed me down.  “We have a marshal for that.”
Then Ben Gates, from the livery burst through the door.  “There’s been a robbery at the office!” he paused for breath.  “Jim and Tom’s been shot, and some stranger.”

Molly and Marta were waiting on tables, actually cleaning them up would be a better term, as there were only a few tables still occupied as the breakfast time was nearly over, at least for working folk.  Then I noticed a man come in and take a seat.  I had just poured myself a cup of coffee and as Molly came by I grabbed her.
“Let Marta finish.  Sit beside me for a minute.”  I got up, but kept my eyes on the room, grabbed a cup and poured a cup of coffee for Molly.
“Don’t look right now, but casually glance around the room.  You’ll see a man sitting over there to our left.  This is the second day in a row he’s been in right after the breakfast rush.”  I paused, taking a sip.  “Ever seen him before?”
She let her yes roam the room and they paused on the man whom Marta was now waiting upon.  “Can’t say that I have.  He’s dressed like most of these miners.”
“Yep, he is, ‘ceptin’ his clothes are worn from workin’ a claim.  Oh, they look dirty, but not frayed and worn from workin’ in them everyday.  Plus, there is somethin’ else about him, not quite sure what yet.”
Getting up, I poured another cup of coffee, then reached for the Greener with my right hand.  “Think I’ll go have a little talk with him,” I said picking up the cup in my left hand.
“Miles,” Molly looked at me with those green eyes that have been known to flash a few sparks now and then.  “Don’t you go start something.”
I smiled at her. What else could I do? Then I said, “Not likely.”
As I approached he sort of tensed up, but then quickly relaxed.  “Mind if I sit?”  I asked.
“No, go ahead,” he replied.
“Yur good Trenton, real good.”  His eyes widened.  “Next time wear some used clothes.”
“Forrest, I thought,” and I stopped him.
“A little mistake might mean a box six-feet under.”  I took a drink of my coffee.  “Let me get you a fresh cup.  Marta!  How’s ’bout some more coffee and see if you can’t find a couple of pieces of pie that Molly might have hidden from me.”
“Another thing Trenton, change your voice a little.  I was tryin’ to place you, but your walk, those clothes, and then when you spoke I was certain.”
Marta came up with a couple of pieces of butterscotch pie. 
“Forrest, mind if you put that shotgun someplace else?  It sorta makes me nervous sitting on the table pointing at me.”
I took it off the table and leaned it against the wall within arm’s reach.  Experience has taught me to keep it close and handy.  I cut a piece of pie and starting chewing on it.  Swallowing I took a sip and asked, “Okay, you’re here for a reason.  Let’s have it.”
“I go by the name of Peter Peabody…”
That cause me to laugh.  “Sorry, but how in the world did you come up with a name like that?”
He looked like I shamed him.  “Forrest, I’ll have you know that was my mother’s father’s name.”
“Sorry Mr. Peabody, should’ve figured nobody could make that up.  Go on, why’re you here?”
“Wray and Ferguson left Idaho Springs and purchased a ticket from Denver to Pueblo.  When I got there I found they had purchased tickets over to Durango.  They were at least a day ahead of me, so they should be in town already.”
I sat there pondering for a minute or so.  “Have they changed their appearance?”
“Wray looks the same, but Ferguson is sporting a moustache, sort of like yours only darker.”
“Thanks for the heads up.  If you see them I’m usually here if not someplace else.  Tomorrow I make a stage run over to Cortez and back.  Should be gone three, four days.”
“One more thing, Forrest.  I found out that in Pueblo that Wray paid the passage for five other men.”
I nodded my thanks, and as I did a couple of men walked in the door.  They were the kind that gives my gut that funny feeling that things may not go right.  “Well, Mr. Peabody, nice to be meetin’ yuh,” I said for effect.  Then more softly, “I’ll buy the coffee and pie, but you still pay for the meal.”