Don’t eavesdrop on others–you may hear your servant laughing at you. For you know how often you yourself have laughed at others.”  –Ecclesiastes 7:21-22 (NLT)

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

     The district attorney Luther and I discussed the situation further.  He said five years would probably be the most he could get and that Davy Logan might get probation due to the amputation of his hand.

     “Listen, Counselor, I have two concerns.  The young bucks think that they have a personal warpath against the Navaho.  Both Ignacio and Coloraw have for all practical purposes kicked them out.  They are on their own and it seems like they have a personal vendetta.  Something they must prove, at least to themselves.  My other concern is that Charlie Two-Face will take it upon himself to bring justice to these renegades.  There are two families without anyone to care for their needs, plus the means in which they were killed.”

     “Miles, what do you want me to do?”

     “Can you give me another week?  I’d like to talk with the two men some more.  Blackhand is a dilemma,” I requested, then got up to get the coffeepot.

     Luther was shaking his head, then a smile appeared.  “People think the law is easy.  But there are sometimes situations such as this, that there is no right solution.  Most likely, “he paused, taking time to stroke his goatee before speaking again, “they should be tried for murder.  But without witnesses…” he shrugged, “what can I do?”

     He looked my direction.  “We could take a chance.  Hope that the jury will find them guilty and at least put them in prison,” he paused to repeat his actions with the little beard.  “Of course, they may just request Judge Klaser to listen to the case and bring judgment, and…” shaking his head, “I know the Judge will want witnesses.”

     “I don’t know what I can do, but at least a week.”

     “That I can do without making a formal charge.  But then we have to decide.”

     Reaching out my hand, we shook.  “Thanks Luther for taking the time to see me.  I’m not happy with the way things are turning out.  I’m convinced that they are guilty, and I’m not sure that any rehabilitation is possible.”

     The rest of the week I moved in and out of the jail, speaking with the two men held there.  Logan was in a stupor most of the time with the laudanum that Doc had given him.  However, from time to time I could see his eyes flash full of hatred when he looked at me.  Billy Blackhand, he could be amiable at times, then the hatred came forth from him as well.

     Finally, I laid it out in front of them.  “There’s a chance you may be set free.”  Billy’s eyes lit up.  “If you’re free to walk out of here, what will be your plans?”

     He didn’t hesitate, “I will find Coloraw and ride with him as he fights and kills the white men.”

     At least he was straightforward.  “You won’t go back to fighting the Navaho?” I questioned.

     Hesitating, I could see him working his jaws.  “Only if Coloraw attacks them.”

     I nodded, then I had to ask, “What will you do if Coloraw doesn’t accept you back?”

     He turned his back, looking at the wall, then down at Logan.  “Then you will see, lawman, you will see.”

     Sighing I left the jail.  Lucas glanced at me as I entered the office.  I met his eyes and just shook my head…

There is not a single person in all the earth who is always good and never sins.”  –Ecclesiastes 7:20(NLT)

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

     Now, I’ve seen the Parson Chapman excited when he gets to preaching the Word and the power comes on him, but he was downright excited when the train pulled in.  He wasn’t jumping, but he was sure walking back and forth waiting for the baggage car to open.  Lucas was with me and I grabbed Grath McCall and Darnelle’s new suitor, Glynn Allison to help me with the preacher.

     “There it is!” he exclaimed, pointing to a crate inside the car.  He started to enter the car when the worker for the Denver & Rio Grande held him back.  “Preacher, you stay on the platform, we’ll get it out to you.”  It was not belligerent, but just business.  

     In minutes, which probably seemed longer to the Parson, the crate was on the platform ready for us to load it in the wagon that the Parson had borrowed.  On the crate in bold letters were the words, “Burdette Organ Co.”  We had been singing in the church, contrary to the view of some of the parishioners to Lyn Gimmel’s guitar.  I smiled wondering what the stogy folk would think about this new organ.  The church had agreed to purchase it through offerings and a couple of bake sales.  I knew that Dale and his wife Betty put plenty of their own money into the purchase as well as a certain Molly Forrest.

     He was all a tither, telling us to be careful, to not bump it against the side of the wagon.  “Preacher!” hollered up McCall, “it’s in a crate!”

     Within the next hour it was unloaded, uncrated, and positioned in front of the Durango Community Church.  Both the Parson and I thanked the men for their help and they went their way.  Before I joined them, I leaned to the beaming recipient of the organ.  “Uh, Pastor Chapman,” I said in a loud whisper.  “Let me remind you about idols.”

     He jerked, looked at me, then laughed.  “Miles, I guess I am a little excited.  Not to show off that our congregation has a new organ, but that we can enjoy the music that the Lord has provided in our worship,” he paused, reaching down to touch the keys and then to wipe his hand across the top of the organ.  “But you’re right.  I will be careful.”

     I bid him good day, but by the time I was down the steps and walking on my way to the diner, I heard the sweet refrain of “In the Sweet By and By.”  I couldn’t help but smile, and I think I even kicked up my heels a bit.

     It was too early for lunch, but Molly smiled when I walked in and then before speaking headed straight for the kitchen.  I took off my jacket placing it on the back of my chair, placed the Greener against the wall, then pulled a mug from the shelf and filled it with coffee.  As I was sitting down, Molly came marching out, or was she swaying, with a piece of pie.

     “Rhubard,” she said.  “Mrs. Calder found some growing in her garden already.  Fresh shoots, and I will say, mighty tasty.  I saved you this one piece, Miles.”

     She sat with me, while I devoured the pie.  She still worked with the diner, but she was only supposed to be doing the books and ordering supplies.  They couldn’t keep her out of the kitchen though.  The people liked her cookies and pies so much.

     I was taking a sip of coffee when the door opened and I glanced over the rim of the cup.  It was Desiderus Luther, the city district attorney.  He looked his dapper normal self, but I knew the clothes were for professional appearance.  He was as tough as nails in the courtroom.  He doffed his hat, “Good morning, Mrs. Forrest,” then he glanced at me, “Miles.  May I sit?”

     Nodding, I didn’t let him stop me from taking a bite.  He was quite interested in what I was eating.  “Hmm, Molly, is there any more of that delectable looking pie?”

     That brought a smile from her.  “No,” she said, getting up.  “But there is a piece of butterscotch left.”

     A little sigh came from Luther, then he said.  “It might not be delectable, but I’m sure it will be every bit as delicious.”

     I couldn’t help it, I groaned and rolled my eyes.

     He laughed.  “Miles, the case has been rejected by the federal court.  I am to proceed in our court with the trial,” he said with a lengthy pause.  That wasn’t good.

     “Miles, I don’t have evidence to try them for murder.  There are no witnesses against them.  I can try them for the attempted murder of an officer of the law.”  He paused as Molly brought him the pie.  “Excuse me why I enjoy my first bite.”

     Molly and I were both grinning at him.  He saw us, and joined us, then remembered his manners and wiped his mouth.  “Now, Miles, you could round up some witnesses.”

     I began shaking my head, “Not gonna happen Counselor.  I might find Charlie Two-Face, but he didn’t see the crime.”

     He saw the frown on my face, “What’s wrong, Miles?”

     “If I release them, there is a good chance that there will be another murder, or more if…”

A wise person is stronger than the ten leading citizens of a town!”  –Ecclesiastes 7:19 (NLT)

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

(I noticed that spellcheck changed the name of Billy Blackhand to Billy Blanchard.  Sorry for not noticing it until now.)

     Doc took a sip of coffee, then began shaking his head.  “That young man must of been a quite a bit of pain.  I can’t imagine it, why to think of that bone protruding…my, my, my.”

     “I did the best I could, Doc.  I didn’t put pressure on it, but covered it; that’s the reason for the tourniquet.  I couldn’t figure out another way to stop the bleedin’.”

     “You did right, Miles.  I’m not questioning that.  I just sorta feel sorry for the young man going through all that pain.  How’s the other man doing?”

     “Shame of it, Doc, most likely they’ll get off,” I replied. “So much anger in both of them.”  Then I gave a little shrug.  “Blackhand, it’s like he’s two different people.  One time I see him he’s very morose and angry, the next time he seems interested in what I’m tellin’ him.”

     Molly walked up on our discussion.  She keeps saying that she is not going to do much work at the diner, but here she is, almost every day doing something.  I stood up to pull out a chair for her, then grabbed a cup and poured it about half full of coffee.  “What are you two looking so downcast for?” she asked, then thanked me for the coffee and took a sip.  A grimace appeared on her face.  “I can see why if it’s about the coffee.”

     “Did I hear you say, they might get off?  Didn’t they kill those sheepherders?” she asked, trying another sip.

     “I talked with Luther yesterday.”  Luther was our district attorney.  “He said that if there were no one willing to testify that he really couldn’t charge them with anything.  I told him that I doubted that I could get the wives to come to Durango to testify, and that Charlie Two-Face really didn’t see the crime.”

     “Well, I hate to see boys that young hang,” Molly replied, “but on the other hand I feel bad for the widows and their children.”  She glanced at me, then turned to Doc.  “Why is it that justice is sometimes hard?”

     He scratched at his eyebrow, then the side of his face.  “I wonder sometimes the same thing in the medical field.”

     “Billy seems interested, at times, and I emphasize that, about Christ.  Then he’ll get angry and curse.  I did take the Parson to see him, and he threw his supper at him.  Wouldn’t talk to him at all.  Not thirty minutes after he left, he told me to tell the man of the cloth that he was sorry.”

     Molly took a deep breath.  “Sounds like something right out of the Bible.  You know Miles, that the Spirit of God will either convict a person or enrage him.  Sounds like both of these things are happening to this young man.”

     “Do you think they’ll go back to Coloraw, if they’re released?” questioned Doc.

     Clearing my throat, I answered, “I think that’s part of the problem.  I think he kicked them out.  I don’t think they measured up to his standards as a warrior.”

     “Because they’re half-breeds?” Doc remarked with a puzzled look on his face.

     I shook my head, “I think it goes deeper than that.  When I confronted them at times, they seemed to cower away, and then put up a front that they were great warriors.  No, something happened within the tribe for Coloraw to expel them.”

     “Well, you be careful,” urged Molly to which Doc agreed.  

     Smiling I replied, “I’m always careful, but with that type more so.”

     I looked up, to just see out the window a palomino go by.  Jumping up I ran to the doorway…

So try to walk a middle course–but those who fear God will succeed either way.” –Ecclesiastes 7:18 (NLT)

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

     I talked with Solly briefly.  He told me of the man who was asking for me–the man on the palomino.  He couldn’t see him well, as he had his hat pulled down and a scarf around his face.  Solly was just closing up the store when he sat there mounted on his horse.  Solly did mention he wore a blue scarf, a dark brown low crowned hat, and that his hair was long sticking out from underneath his hat and dark brown.  I thanked him, told him I’d be back with him, then walked Billy Blanchard up to his temporary new home courtesy of Durango.

     Lucas happened to be there and was stoking the fire in the stove.  “Buenos, Marshal Miles,” he said, “coffee’s hot.”

     “Let me get this fellow settled, and it’s Ranger now,” I replied, moving past and opening the door to the cell room.  There was no one there so Lucas was keeping the door closed to keep more heat in the office.  After getting Blanchard in a cell I’d leave the door open to let heat move back to the cells.

     Billy went to the cot, sat down and stared at the floor.  “I said I’d tell you who I was speakin’ to when we left Doc’s office.”

     He spat, the glob landing in front of my boots.  Guess the walk in the cold caused him to change his mind, just when I thought he was coming around.

     “I don’t want nothin’ from white man!”  He laid back on the cot turning his back to me.

     “Billy, there’s a good chance they’ll hang you.  It would do you a heap of good to hear what I have to say.”  There was no response, only a grunt.  Then all of a sudden, he leaped from the cot.  I was turned away, off balance, and totally unsuspecting that he would do such a thing.  He had pushed me back against the bars and was trying to push my head against them.  He was much shorter so he didn’t have the angle to grab my head to bang it against the bars.

     I couldn’t get turned around, and had to do something as he was struggling to get my gun.  Bringing my knee up, I stomped down as hard as I could.  My boot landed on his foot, and I thought I might have heard a bone break.  He yelled, reached down which gave me time to turn around and gain the advantage.  While he was leaning over, I clobbered him in the jaw with my elbow, knocking him back.  While he was off balance I used both my arms to push him back, his legs catching the cot causing him to fall back on it.  While he was down I slipped on out the cell, locking the door.

     He began to howl something fierce.  I couldn’t make out the words, which I’m sure I’m glad I couldn’t.  Going back to the office, I found Lucas sitting at one of the desks drinking coffee.  “Thanks for the help,” I said, wiping across my moustache.

     Grinning, he lifted his cup in a salute.  “I reckon the Ranger could take care of a young buck like him.  If you needed help, you would have called.”

     I pointed my finger at him and shook it.  “Listen, I’m goin’ down to see Molly.  If he don’t hush up, close the door.  There’s another one down at Doc’s; had to have his arm amputated.”

     “These the ones that killed the shepherds?” he asked as I started to open the door.  

     I nodded my head.  “Breeds who say they ride for Coloraw,” I said, then looked back at the cell room shaking my head.  “To my way of thinkin’ they might have once, but they’re either renegades and on their own, or Coloraw kicked them out of the tribe.”

     “I thought he was north of us, in the Montrose area.  The passes are still closed so they must have come down before winter set in.”

     “They’re not very savvy, but don’t take any unnecessary chances.  He asked who I was prayin’ to, so I want to come back and tell him the story of Christ.  Charlie Two-Face told me that they didn’t just kill the two Navaho, but mutilated them as well.”

     Opening the door I went out.  I wanted to see Molly.  I knew she wouldn’t be worrying, but she would be a mite concerned.  I smiled at the thought.  If she knew I was back, perhaps there could be a piece of pie waiting at the diner for me.  Anyhow, the coffee there would be better than what Lucas had brewed in the office.