Amos Martin has got a mob stirred up saying that his daughter had been kidnapped and was being held in the Mexican section of the town.  He has threatened the law officers and the ministers of the community as well as threatened to burn down the barrio.  Tensions are high and now Marshal Ramirez has offered to take off his badge and settle the dispute with Martin.  Join with me now another saga from the thrilling days of yesteryear.

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       “Easy, Mateo,” I said, moving closer to him.

       “You hear that Sheriff,” hollered Frank Moser from the crowd that was beginning to disperse.  “You need to remove his badge!”

       Moser was a hard-luck miner who seemed always ready to blame someone else for the misery he brought upon himself.  Instead of out trying to find a job, he spent most of his time yapping and drinking in one of the saloons.  Most folks with common sense saw him for what he was.  I guess he saw this as a chance of rising in the eyes of some.

       “I’ll stand by yuh,” barked Moser, moving up closer to Martin.  He turned to look at the men who were now leaving the scene, and with a sneer said, “Even if these cowards back away.”

       Lifting the Greener I stepped toward Moser.  “Then I think you need to feel some of the same medicine that’s been given out,” I said, thrusting the barrel up under his chin, knocking him back a step and then lifting him to his toes.  He quickly calmed down so I took some of the pressure off by removing the shotgun and stepping back to watch him rub where the barrel had rested under his chin.

       A chuckle emerged from Mateo.  “You told me to take it easy.”

       “I’m not fighting the law,” muttered Martin, “but I aim to find my daughter.”  He started to turn away then stopped to glare at the preacher and priest then shot daggers from his eyes at Mateo.  “I’ll find her one way or another.” He spat in the snow then walked away leaving his comrade standing before me.  

       I smiled at Moser, who almost wilted seeing that he was now alone.  Without hesitation he turned to hurry to catch up with Martin, slipping and falling to a knee before starting off again.  Martin didn’t pay him any mind but just walked the faster.

       When he left, Charlie came down to where the four of us were standing.  “Well, that was fun for a cold morning,” he stated to no one in particular.

       Turning to the parson I asked, “Would you mind explainin’ what is goin’ on?”

       It was Father Cisneros that spoke up.  “Javier and Agatha have been seeing each other whenever the opportunity arises for the past couple of years.  When they reached the legal age they asked if they could get married.  Javier is a good lad, and works hard.”

       “However,” interrupted Rev. Chapman, “Agatha said that she would not marry him with only a Catholic priest available.  She also informed him that I had to give permission for them to marry since her father opposed it.”

       “I take it you did,” I said, staring at the parson.  

       “Not necessarily my permission, but I agreed to marry them,” he informed me.  “Agatha has asked her father on more than one occasion and he even went so far as to strike her once.”

       “And he beat up Javier.  I went to talk with Martin about that; Javier did not want to press charges,” declared Mateo.  

       “Amos definitely has a problem,” offered the parson.

       “Hatred,” I muttered, then added, “hatred mostly of himself and he spews it out on everyone else, especially those who he thinks of as his lessers.”

       “What about the newly weds?” I asked.

       “Javier has a job waiting for him this spring down near Taos,” offered the priest.  “But it is too cold now to travel there, plus the job doesn’t start until the end of March.”

       I sighed, then saw Charlie shaking his head.   “Any place we can hide them for a couple of weeks?”

       I pulled on my moustache.  It was Mateo that spoke up.  “Yes, we can hide them, but Martin won’t believe they aren’t in the barrio.  He will attempt to find them.”

       “They can stay in the church,” offered the priest.

       “Or at my house, I’m sure Betty wouldn’t mind.”

       “All right we hide them, but Mateo has a good point.  It won’t stop Martin from searching, plus it puts your lives in danger.”

       I had a half-smile as I took in the gaze of the two lawmen standing with me.  As we were standing there, thinking, Parson Chapman declared, “I think it’s time we prayed…”

Upon seeing the mob, Rev. Chapman and Father Cisneros stopped abruptly, smiles disappearing from their faces.  Amos Martin, now standing eyed them intently.  The Parson came up to my right side, just a little behind me and inquired, “Miles, what’s going on here?”

       “Mr. Martin is lookin’ for his daughter.  He claims she’s been kidnapped.”

       I couldn’t see the parson’s countenance, but something in it must have triggered Martin.  He lunged for the preacher, thrusting me aside, grabbing him by the collar.  “Preacher!  Where’s Agatha?” he near screamed.  

       By this time, Mateo had come up to grasp one arm of Martin and I had been able to gain my balance and took hold of his other one and we pulled him away from the parson.  Martin has gone crazy-mad.  

       “Now, Brother Martin…” he began but was interrupted.

       “Don’t ‘Brother Martin’ me.  Do you know where she is?” he blasted, spittle coming from his mouth.

       Rev. Chapman straightened his shoulders, then looked Martin square in the eye.  “I do.”

       Martin’s eyes widened in fury as he tried to lunge for the preacher again.  This time, Mateo and I were ready and he couldn’t break our grasp.  “You have no right to hide her from me!” he exclaimed in rage.

       “From the way you’re acting, I had every right.  Agatha is of age and is now married to a fine, hard-working man,” came the calm, but firm answer from Rev. Chapman.

       “I’ll have it annulled!” he proclaimed still trying to break away from us.

       From another quarter, Sheriff Gold shouted.  “Why don’t you all go home.  This doesn’t concern you, and it’s too cold out here.  This was a legal marriage of two adults.  There is nothing you can do about it.”

       A voice from the crowd hollered out, one I didn’t recognize.  “Are you telling us that she wasn’t kidnapped?”

       “No more than you kidnapped Mary those years ago,” retorted Charlie with humor in his voice trying to lighten the mood.

       “Amos,” started in another man.  “You told us she’d been kidnapped.”

       Some of the air had been taken from Amos Martin, he seemed to have calmed down some, but I was afraid that it was burning and boiling inside ready to pop.  He sort of growled when he replied, “She was, she wouldn’t have gone of her own accord, not with one of them bean-eaters.  She wasn’t raised that way.”

       There was some mumbling and bickering in the crowd, I heard someone say that he was going home.  Most of those gathered began to move away with only a few standing with Martin.  Father Cisneros had moved up to stand beside the parson.

       Martin must have felt our grip relaxing for he burst out in wild fury striking the priest in the face knocking him down, then wrapping his meaty hands around the throat of Rev. Chapman.  I was in no position to bring the Greener to thump in on the head, but Mateo was quicker.  Lightning quick he drew his pistol and shoved his hard under the chin of Martin, hard enough that I heard his teeth clatter.  He pushed up with the barrel lifting Martin to his toes.

       “Release the preacher!” he ordered through gritted teeth.  Cocking the gun, he repeated, “Release him, I won’t say it again!”

       Martin took Mateo to heart, but gave him a stare filled with daggers as he stepped back.  Glaring at Mateo, Martin barked, “This ain’t over, bean-eater!” Then turned toward two men of the cloth.  “I’ll find them, and when I do she’ll be a widow right quick like!”  He spat toward the feet of the two men of God.  “I’ll burn out that barrio if I have to!”

       Mateo released him, then pushed him back.  “You have a gun, let’s take care of this now…”

There was trouble brewing, perhaps already boiled over.  Miles was summoned by Mateo’s oldest son, Alejo to join him.  When Miles arrived he was surprised to see a mob formed with Sheriff Gold and Mateo holding them off.  Join me now in another exciting episode from yesteryear.

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     Alejo could move faster through the snow than I could keep up.  As I passed Darnelle’s place I could see in the distance where the barrio began that a mob was there.  I could hear men’s voices but could not make out anything that was being said.  Alejo stopped and pointed while I continued on off to the side.

     “I want that bean-eater, and I want him now!” hollered Amos Martin who was almost berserk with anger.  Then looking over towards Mateo, he sneered, “I don’t know how he ever became marshal, I’ll see this gets changed!”

     “Settle down Martin!” warned Charlie.  “That goes for the rest of you; go on home.  It’s too cold out here, let the marshal do his job.”

     “His job, his job,” said another man who then spit into the snow.

     I knew the feelings that were racing in the minds of Charlie and Mateo.  These were people they knew, people they saw everyday, but now they were looking at a rabid mob.  One that was ready to attack.  I reckoned it was time to get their attention.  I raised the Greener in the air and discharged one barrel.  The blast shook the crowd as they didn’t know I was standing there with the shotgun.

     Stepping down off the boardwalk, I moved to stand between Charlie and Mateo.  “There’s one more barrel for the fool that dares to take a step in this direction.”

     There was some grumbling and muttering in the mob, then Amos Martin spoke up.  “You can’t stop us.  That boy kidnapped my daughter and I’ll see him hung.”

     This was Charlie and Mateo’s fight, I was just along to help, but I figured I might as well say something.  “Martin, you’ll never see anyone hung, for the first thing I’ll do is fill your gut with buckshot.”

     His eyes widened, and his face sort of paled, but only for a moment for quick as a flash the bluster was back.  “Mateo, you mind tellin’ me what’s goin’ on?”

     I glanced at Mateo, his face grim and jaw set firm.  “Javier Ballesteros and Martin’s daughter, Agatha ran off together.  Amos claims they’re in the barrio and was ready to burst in to find them.”

     “Are they there?” I asked.

     There was a shrug of his shoulders.  “Could be, I can’t say for sure.  But it doesn’t make any difference, she’s twenty and the boy is twenty-two.”

     “What’s he saying?” snapped Martin.  “She wouldn’t go in there by herself.  She knows what’d happen to her if she did.”

     When he said that I moved toward him, close enough to poke him in the chest with my Greener.  “I think it’s time you back off now.  Let Marshal Ramirez handle this.”

     “I wouldn’t trust him–he’s as filthy as the rest of them!”

     Guess it was just in my nature, I couldn’t resist.  I gave him a little thump with the barrel of the Greener that dropped him to his knees.  A man to my right charged at me, Charlie put a bullet just in front of his feet to stop his approach.

     “Best you listen to Marshal Forrest and go home.  My next shot will not be a warning!” barked Charlie.

     Another man hollered out, “You need to remember that you’re an elected official by the people!”

     Charlie smiled, “Take it up at the poll booth, a year and a half from now!”

     There was some bickering in the crowd.  As Martin was pulling himself to his feet, I noticed that a few were starting to pull away.  It was at that time that Parson Chapman and the Catholic priest, Damian Cisneros walked up from behind us with large smiles on their faces.  When they saw the mob they…

Miles has recently returned from an ordeal with three gunmen to save the life of Doctor Jones.  Doc had been kidnapped to save the life of Bill Goss who was shot in a holdup attempt in Cortez.  When Doc reached the cabin where the men were staying he found Goss already dead, but one other man, Chuck Mason, was severely wounded.  It was apparent that the men intended to kill Doc when he had finished taking care of Mason.  That is, until Miles arrived on the scene.  Join with me in another thrilling tale of yesteryear in the Saga of Miles Forrest.

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       That night the snow began to fall again, which was good in one way as the temperatures went up some.  Upon waking and looking outside the next morning, I could see that perhaps three inches were added to the snow already on the ground.  It had stopped snowing and there was only a slight breeze to be felt as I went outside to bring in an armful of wood.

       I stirred up the coals in the fireplace and got the fire started.  Soon flames were rising from it as I added more wood.  I wanted to get the room warm before Molly got up.  I went to the cookstove and fired it up as well, putting coffee on to boil.  I used snow and would have to fill the pot at least three times to get enough water, but why waste the snow?  

       Bacon was already frying in the skillet when Molly ventured out of the bedroom.  Graylight was full with what appeared to be partially clear skies.  The sun was going to shine, and the snow would melt.  This being February I doubted that this was the end of the snow, but at least a slight reprieve for a spell.

       Molly sat at the table and I poured her a cup of coffee.  “Want me to slice some bread?” she asked.  She had made a loaf of sourdough bread yesterday.  

       “Go ahead, I’m ’bout ready to fry the eggs,” I replied watching her take a knife to the bread then place it on this metal contraption we had to make toast by placing it by the fire.

       I had the eggs in the skillet and was flipping bacon grease over them to cook them on top.  No need to flip them when I could do it this way.  Within a few minutes they were ready as was the toast.  The preserves we had were all gone, but there was still some honey left.  I had placed the clay pot where we kept the honey on the back of the stove to liquify it some.  As cold as it had been, that honey would be thick.

       Sitting down I took her hand and prayed for the Lord to bless the day and the food.  Nothing better than a simple breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast.  The coffee was hot and strong, so who could ask for more.  I’ve often found that the simple things are the best in life.  I’ve been to Denver and Kansas City and have eaten at some of those fancy restaurants, but give me taste and filling any time over fancy.

       “As I was sayin’ last night, Moses said that two of those mares I brought in would make fine breeding with Star,” I started in then took a bite of eggs.  “Yuh know I always wanted to be a horse breeder.”

       Molly didn’t say anything, she just bit into her honey toast.  I watched her chew, while I drank half a cup of coffee.  I got up to get the pot to give us each a refill, then she spoke.  “Miles, do you really think you would be satisfied?”

       “I could finally go on that wild horse hunt with Lot Smith.  He said I could come over any time.”

       “You don’t even know if Lot is still alive…”

       Interrupting her I said, “I could write him at Tuba City.  Someone there would surely know.” 

       “A wild horse hunt, then wrangle the horses back here to Durango, then what?”

       I didn’t answer for a few seconds, swirling my coffee in the cup to cool it a mite.  “I could work on the cabin, expand it.  Build a better stable, add a barn.”

       “Miles,” she cut me off.  “I’m with you if that is what you want to do.  But just think on it for a while…at least until spring.”

       I nodded, then stood up to collect the dishes.  I already had a pot of water boiling to wash them.  “Why don’t you go cut some more firewood, I’ll do up the dishes, “she said, then added.  “What time do you plan on going to Parker’s?”

       I had just put on my coat when there was a knock at the door.  Opening it, there stood Alejo, Mateo’s oldest son.  He took off his hat as he stepped into the cabin.  “Senor Miles, come…”