Sheriff Charlie Gold and Mateo Ramirez left Silverton with their prisoner Thurman “Tioga” Cavendish leaving Miles in Silverton.  The marshal of Silverton had been running a protection racket, and the first person that Miles had arrested had been shot down by a rifleman on a rooftop which Tioga proclaimed was Smokey Fountain.  Miles had hidden himself in the file room of the Wells Fargo office and his plan was to confront and arrest Fountain, and possibly Marshal Johnson.  Miles remembered that the Man at his campfire said He was going to stir things up in Silverton.  Come, join with me, as we go back to those thrilling days of yesteryear and the Saga of Miles Forrest.

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       I must have dozed again while sitting in a chair with my feet propped up.  The darkness of the night had settled in, and I searched for the clock in the office.  The time was ten minutes ’til midnight.  It was time for me to be moving out into the town.  

       In the darkness I checked the Greener to make sure it was loaded, then felt for extra shells in my vest pocket of which there were six.  My hand then pulled my pistol and I checked the loads in it.  I hoped to pull this off without gunplay and bloodshed, but I wasn’t going among the Philistines unprepared.  “Lord,” I prayed, “You’ve got to give me discernment and courage.  Guide my steps, and if I have to shoot, may my aim be true.”  I picked up my jacket, then placed it on the table.  It would be cool outside, but I didn’t want to be hampered in my movements.

       My plan was to walk back toward the station a half block then move up the darken street toward the top of Blair Street then work my way down.  I had one major problem, I didn’t know what Smokey Fountain looked like.  I doubted that Johnson would be on the street this late at night; he would let his deputies take care of the work.  But again, with the commotion we caused earlier in the day he might be roaming around.

       I had just turned the corner when I heard shots back west of the office.  In Silverton that didn’t mean much, but it usually came from Blair Street or the surrounding streets.  Suddenly, I knew what the shots were.  Johnson was attacking either Appleby or Barnes’ homes.  I rushed toward the sound of the firing, not caring if I was seen or not.  I had to get there in time to help these two loyal men.

       They lived only a block apart, so I headed to Barnes’ which was the closest.  I saw movement in the darkness, then a crash as his door was kicked open.  I expected to see a flash from the gun of Barnes, but nothing happened.  I moved closer, there were three men standing at the doorway.  I figured there was a man posted out back in case Barnes decided to run that way.

       There was some hesitation with the men, and I didn’t blame them.  Shots had been fired, they were entering a darkened house and who knows what could be awaiting them.  I saw one start to cross the threshold; I decided it was time to make myself known.

       “Throw up your hands!  You’re under arrest!” I hollered.  

       I heard a curse, then one turned trying to locate me in the shadows.  “I’m Deputy Mercer with Deputies Fountain and Black.  Stay away, this is official business!”

       “This is official business too,” I returned, drawing my pistol and firing at the door frame.

       Mercer dropped to a knee, while the other deputy pushed inside with the man who had already entered.  “This is Deputy U.S. Marshal Miles Forrest, throw down your weapons!”

       There was another oath, a shot fired out where they thought I may be, then I heard a shot from inside.  Barnes!  Another shot, I hollered again, “Throw down your weapons and come out!”

       They rushed out, firing as they came, one deputy dragging his leg.  The Lord had led Fountain to me, now He needed to help me keep him alive.  I only knew where Mercer was.  They were shooting trying to make their escape.  I took a kneeling position and fired low, at their legs.  They were hard to see in the darkness; if they would have kept still they probably would have gotten away.  I hit one of them, then my bullet thudded in one of the others and I heard a deep groan.  They were hurt, but not out of the play.  As far as I know Mercer was the only one unscathed, and I couldn’t locate him.

       “Last chance, throw down your guns and raise your hands!”

       I heard two guns land on the ground.  Either one was hurt too severely or was keeping his gun.  “Stand up and move toward me,” I yelled.  

       One man moved in my direction, limping badly.  “Black is down, he can’t move,” the man uttered.

       “Are you Fountain?”

       “Deputy Fountain, to you,” came his blunt reply.

       “Well, Deputy Fountain, you’re under arrest for the murder of Tom Devlin!”  

       I didn’t want to say more as I kept my ears alert for any sound.  Mercer was still unaccounted for.  After a few minutes, I moved to handcuff Fountain when there was a shot off to my left and a cry.  “Don’t shoot Miles, it’s Barnes.  I just took care of Mercer.”

       “Go get a lamp, I want to check out their wounds,” I said, stepping forward.  I could see that Fountain was bleeding from a wound above his right knee.  There was a form on the ground.  When Barnes brought out the lamp I knelt to see that Black had bled out from where my bullet took him just below the breastbone.  

       I would deal with Johnson another time.  At least I had Fountain, now to get him to Durango…

Silverton Marshal Todd Johnson and his deputies were faced down by Miles, Charlie, and Mateo with the help of Wells Fargo agents Appleby and Barnes.  Tioga, at least for the time being, was still under the custody of Sheriff Johnson.  When Johnson and his men left the Wells Fargo office, Miles found out that the train would be leaving for Durango in thirty minutes.  Nothing hindering, they still had time to make it to the train.  Let’s continue with this exciting tale from yesteryear.

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       I went out to uncuff Tioga from the post, and while doing so I questioned him, “Think your boss will have you shot down like he did Devlin?”

       I didn’t doubt that Tioga was a tough guy on his own right, but he knew what kind of man Marshal Johnson was.  “You’ve got to get me out of here!” cried Tioga.  “He’ll kill me!”

       Smiling, I took the cuffs off one hand then pulled him to his feet.  I led him to the hitching rail that was three feet off the boardwalk into the street, pulling him by the handcuffs.  “Maybe I should give whoever shot Devlin an easier target.  Sure is an easy way to get a prisoner off my hands.”

       “No!  You can’t do that!  You can’t let them shoot me down in cold blood, without even a way to defend myself,” he shrieked.  “It’s against the law; I know my rights.”

       “I don’t know of any law that says I can’t handcuff a prisoner to a hitching rail.  In fact, from what I hear that’s the common practice in this town,” I responded then pushed him against the rail.

       “You can’t!” he pleaded.  

       Jerking his arm up by the cuff I pulled him toward me.  “Who shot Devlin?”  He wouldn’t answer.  “If I recall right you were in the street with Johnson and some others.  That makes you an accomplice to murder.”  I pushed him back against the rail and started to wrap the chains around it.

       “Fountain!” came the scared voice.  “It was Smokey Fountain that shot Devlin.  Marshal Johnson ordered it done.”

       I smiled, then pulled him with me toward the Wells Fargo office.  Upon entering I saw that Charlie and Mateo had their things together and were ready to go.  “Take him to the train.  When you get to Durango, get with the district attorney and see if they can get some kind of deal made for state’s evidence.  I’m goin’ to hang around here and find a man by the name of Smokey Fountain.”

       Charlie took the cuffs, then Mateo came to my side.  “Do you think that wise, you stickin’ ’round?”

       “If you guys hurry and get on that train, they’ll think I’m with you.  Johnson wouldn’t think that I’d stick around with such a prize witness.  Now you get goin’.  Tell Molly I’ll be down tomorrow, the next day at the latest.  Now don’t argue, get!”

       They went out and hurried down the street toward the station.  I watched them through the broken window of the office, then heard the sound of the train whistle letting passengers know that it was time to leave.

       Turning to Morgan and Ron, I said, “I’m goin’ to hide out in that file room.  If Courtney shows up don’t let him know I’m still in town.  It’s not that I don’t trust him, but with him leavin’ I have doubts as to his courage.”  I glanced toward the window.  “You better start gettin’ that cleaned and boarded up.  I’ll leave sometime around midnight.”

       I went into the file room and sat down on the floor.  At least it wasn’t totally dark in there as it was still daylight.  It pleased me when I heard Morgan locked the door and then slide the key under it.  I leaned back against the wall with a cabinet to my left.

       “Lord, I’m sure goin’ to need Your help tonight.  Mostly from doin’ some fool stunt and gettin’ myself killed.  Molly wouldn’t like that much.  Plus I’d miss her makin’ those wonderful pies.  So, I’m countin’ on You,” I prayed, the chuckled to myself.  Yep, He said He was goin’ to stir things up.

       I hated to put Morgan in this situation, but I know he recognized the risk.  I knew that Jakub Brewlinski would hide me out, but I didn’t want to move to his place in the daylight plus the fact that there were many men up there that might see me.  No this was best, best as I could think of.

       There was a knock on the door that suddenly awakened me.  I hadn’t realized that I had fallen asleep.  “Miles, it’s seven o’clock.  Barnes and Courtney have already left, and I’m closing up.  I checked the schedule, the train leaves at nine in the morning.  There’s some old coffee on the stove, it might still be warm.”

       After that there was silence except for Morgan’s footsteps sounding on the wooden floor.  I waited for about thirty minutes then unlocked the door.  It was getting too dark in that room, and I reckoned I would be safe in the darkness of the office.  I went to the stove, touched the side of the coffeepot and found it still warm.  It wasn’t much, but I drank it from the pot.  Warm, bitter, and a bit scorched, but it made me feel better.

       Setting the pot back on the stove, I took a chair and went to the darkest corner.  I’d bide the next few hours there, waiting..

Marshal Johnson and his crooked deputies were coming down the street.  Confrontation was imminent; it could become a bloodbath.  Sheriff Gold, Miles, Morgan Appleby, and Ron Barnes were inside the Wells Fargo office, ready and waiting.  Would there be bloodshed?  Would the end of the clash find bodies on the floor no longer breathing?  Let’s go back to a time when things were often decided by a gun, when it took courage and fortitude to enforce justice.  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

       I looked around the room, Barnes was over to the far right, behind his desk, but standing.  I motioned for Morgan to go to the left of Charlie and stand slightly behind him next to a table.  Charlie was just to the left of me, perhaps six feet away.  We stood in the middle of the room.  I had the Greener in my hands.

       “It’s your play, Charlie.  You’re the sheriff, we’ll follow your lead,” I said, then followed, “however, if they start shootin’, I won’t wait for your word.”

       “Let’s see how many of them there are, and the intentions of Johnson,” replied Charlie.

       A crowd of men led by Marshal Johnson walked by the window on the right hand side of the office.  They stopped momentarily and I could hear Tioga and Johnson talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

       Johnson sent two men through the entrance, I reckon that was to see if we were going to immediately start shooting.  When no shots were fired, Johnson came in next and stood between the first two; he was followed by four more.  The room was becoming quite crowded.  I could see that there were at least two remaining outside the office.

       Anger was etched on Johnson’s face when he bellowed, “Release my deputy immediately!”

       He looked at me, and there was a show of surprise when Charlie answered.  “Can’t, he’s a wanted man.  I have a poster on him.”

       Johnson’s eyes moved over to Charlie.  “That poster is not valid in Colorado.  It’s from Kansas.”

       “I’ll hold him until I can extradite him,” replied Charlie, firm in his resolve, but not threatening.

       It looked as if Johnson was going to explode.  “You can’t hold him!”

       “I can,” I said, figuring it was time to say something.

       I thought I heard a growl coming from Johnson.  “If you don’t release him, I will!” he barked, his hand moving slightly down toward the butt of his pistol.

       “Marshal, you can take your men and leave me to my job.  I really don’t want a bloodbath here and if you make one more move toward your gun that’s exactly what it’ll be,” asserted Charlie.  When he said that I brought the shotgun up to bear; its ugly,deadly eyes boring straight at the Marshal.

       There was silence and a ton of tension in the room.  Suddenly the glass broke to my left side, I didn’t look, but everyone flinched when it happened.  It was quickly followed by a shot, then two rifle shots in close succession.  A man fell through the broken window.

       Mateo was on the job, I raised the Greener, and Johnson quickly threw up his hands shouting, “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, nobody shoot!”

       I don’t know if it was a ruse or not, but to my right Barnes fired.  There was a grunt and the sound of a gun falling to the floor.  “Don’t shoot!” screamed Johnson.

       “Marshal, why don’t you take your men and depart from these premises,” commanded Charlie.  

       “Move back men,” ordered Johnson.  The men slowly vacated the room with Marshal Johnson stopping at the doorway.  “This isn’t over.  I want Tioga released.”

       “He’ll be released when he arrives in Kansas, not before,” I informed him.

       “Forrest,” he responded with a sneer, “Tioga has friends.”

       “Friends that are ready to die for him, if they interfere with the law?” I answered.

       I could tell he wanted to say more, but he huffed, then turned walking out the entrance.  Waiting for him was the man that Barnes wounded.  It wasn’t serious, the bullet struck him in the wrist.  Of course, he might lose the use of that right hand.

       Morgan went over to the man lying in the window frame and pushed him back outside.  I looked over at Barnes, “You did good.”

       Charlie walked a few paces to me shaking his head.  “Whew, that could have been bad.”

       When Johnson’s men left the area, Mateo came through the door.  There was concern on his face, but when he saw that the four of us were standing with a hole in nary a one of us, he smiled.  “I see that the Lord kept his hand over you.”

       The tension had gone, and now the intensity of the battle was leaving us.  It’s hard to describe how tired one can be after a confrontation where lives are on the line.

       “Miles, there’s a train leaving in thirty minutes.  It might be good that you were on it,” suggested Morgan.

       I grasp his shoulder, “Thanks,” then looked over at Barnes.  “Will you two be all right?”

       He gave a little laugh.  “We might take up praying like you do, but yes, I think we’ll be all right…”

An outlaw, Thurmon Cavendish, who went by the alias Tioga, was recognized by Mateo.  Miles placed him in cuffs since he was a wanted man and sent his partner, Foslin out from the office.  They all knew that Foslin would hot-foot it to his boss, Marshal Johnson.  It was only a matter of time before they received a visit from the marshal.  The problem is, what kind of a visit?  Let’s go back to those thrilling days of yesteryear and join Miles Forrest and his friends in Silverton, Colorado.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

       “Help me drag this cur outside and cuff him to the post.  I want to send a message to Johnson,” I said.  Charlie reached down to grab an ankle and I took hold of the other to drag him out.  Once he was secured I turned to Mateo.  “No one knows you’re here, so why don’t you move on over to the other side of the street; maybe down to the depot.”

       Mateo smiled as he looked around, but before he could go, Charlie grabbed him by the arm.  “Here, take this,” and thrust the rifle into his hands.

       Walking back into the office I looked at Courtney and Barnes.  “Now’s the time to leave if you’re gonna.”  Morgan Appleby had already declared that he was staying, not only to protect the name of Wells Fargo, but also his own.  He told the three lawmen that he wasn’t about to back down to Marshal Johnson despite the terrible beating he had received.

       “Morgan, I can’t stay!” exclaimed the frightened Dale Courtney.  “I, I hope you won’t hold it against me.”

       He started toward the door, stopped to look at Ron Barnes.  “You coming, Ron?”

       Barnes glanced over at Appleby.  “Reckon I’ll stay.  See you, Dale.”

       Morgan Appleby went to his desk, opened the drawer and pulled out an 1880 Smith and Wesson .38 revolver.  It was the first double action .38 center fire revolver produced by the company.  Setting it on his desk, he reached back in the drawer for a box of cartridges.  

       I walked over to him, with Barnes following me.  “First time I’ve ever seen one of those,” I told Morgan.  “Can you use it?”

       In reply I received a large, toothy grin.  

       “What will I use?” questioned Barnes.  “I don’t carry a gun.”

       Charlie and I glanced at each other, both with the same questions on our minds.  Charlie broke the silence.  “How do you survive in Silverton without some type of weapon?”

       “Uh, my room’s only four blocks away.  I come straight to work, and go straight home.  I seldom venture up town along Greene and never have I walked over to Blair Street.”

       My attention went back to Barnes.  “Do you know how to use a gun?” I inquired.

       “I know how to shoot,” he snapped back.  “I may not be a good shot, but I can shoot.”

       Taking two steps over to the table, I picked up Tioga’s gun.  It was a Colt .44, and when I looked to see if it was loaded, I saw four notches carved on the grip.  “Here,” I said, thrusting the gun at Barnes.  “Take this, and keep the gunbelt close to you for the additional shells.”

       “What do yuh think, Miles?” asked Charlie, as he stood by the entryway to the office.  “Will he come in force or just try to bully us?”

       “I don’t know how well he knows you Charlie, but I would think he’ll bark and bluster first, then try to take Tioga back,” I replied.

       Charlie looked back at me.  “You don’t think he’ll have the man shot like he did before?”

       “Could be,” I said solemnly, “but don’t reckon he will.  I think Tioga is too important to his organization.”

       “Meet him out on the boardwalk, or let him come in?” asked Charlie, trying to figure out some kind of strategy.

       I smiled, “Let’s make him come to us.  Plus we do have a measure of cover in here with the tables, desks, and counters.”

       Twenty minutes had gone by, Charlie hadn’t moved from his position at the doorway except to change the weight on his legs.  Another ten, then Charlie moved back into the office.  “Better say your prayers, the marshal is on his way with a slew of deputies…”