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.

So don’t be too good or too wise!  Why destroy yourself?  On the other hand, don’t be too wicked either–don’t be a fool!  Why should you die before your time?”  –Ecclesiastes 7:16-17(NLT)

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     The heavy snow never came but there had been a light, cold snow for two days.  We arrived in Durango right after dusk the second day.  I stopped immediately at Doc Jones office.  The man that I was told was Davy Logan, was as pale as the snow that dusted his coat.  He looked more dead than alive, but he wasn’t stiff.  I untied Billy Blackhand so he could help me get him off his horse and into Doc’s.  I’ll give that young buck credit, he didn’t whimper or cry out the whole way.  That busted up arm must of hurt something fierce.

     I didn’t bother knocking, but turned the knob on the door and kicked it open.  I just hoped Doc was in.

     There was a short scream.  “My land!  Oh, what do we have here?”  Edith came to her wits.

     “Where’s Doc, this man’s bad hurt.”

     “What?  What is it?  Miles, is that you?”  I heard a voice coming from the other room.  “You gave Edith quite a scare, say…  Well, bring him in and lay him on the table.”

     When we placed Davy Logan on the table, he groaned.  That was the first sound he had made.  Perhaps it was because it shifted his arm into a different position.  I had tied it tight against his chest, but didn’t know what to do about the bone.  I covered it the best I could and had to use a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.  I did my best to loosen it from time to time, but with the looks of that bone sticking out I don’t think he’d be able to keep that arm anyway.

     “Sit down out there!” I ordered Blackhand.  I went out to the office and this time I used my handcuffs and hooked him to a chair.  He could escape, but he’d have to drag that chair with him.  I just hoped that he honored his friendship with Logan enough to stay put.

     Going back into the operating room, I saw Edith helping Doc remove the Indian’s bandages.  “Miles, hold him while I cut this off….”  Then he muttered something I couldn’t make out and was shaking his head.  When they finally cut off my makeshift bandage off his arm and cut off his shirt, Doc looked at the wrist, the hand dangling there, the fingers white the blood having drained from them.  “My, my…” he muttered.  “He’s more dead than alive.  You were smart Miles to use the tourniquet.  I couldn’t have saved his arm, but he might live, but he’s going to be in a lot of pain.”

     He looked at Edith, who had turned some pale herself at the sight.  “Miles and I can handle this.  Why don’t you go tell Molly that he’s back in town.”

     An hour later Davy Logan laid in the bed unconscious, missing his arm from the elbow down.  Molly had sent someone up to the jail, but when they tried to take Blackhand he put up a scuffle.  I had to leave Doc for a moment to tell Lucas to let him stay.  He told me that they had taken Hawk up to the cabin, fed and rubbed him down, and the other two horses over to the livery.

     We left Davy lying there, sleeping, more dead than alive.  Doc joined me with Billy Blackhand.  “Your friend is in bad shape.  There’s a good chance he might die,” Doc explained to him, and when he said that Billy glared at me with vengeance in his eyes.  “Miles, why don’t you get your prisoner fed and taken up to the jail.”

     “No!  I will stay with my friend!”  I looked at Doc who gave his head a slight shake.

     “There’s nothing you can do for him.  Tell you what.  You eat, get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see that the Marshal, uh, Ranger brings you down in the morning.  Don’t worry I’ll be with him through the night.”

     He wasn’t happy but he acquiesced and went peacefully.  It was cold, with a few flakes still falling.  I thanked the Lord as we started walking for holding off the storm.  “Who is that you talk to?” questioned Billy when he heard me.  

     “I’ll tell you all about Him when I get you tucked in your cell.”  

     Passing by Solly Vendor’s tobacco emporium, he rushed out without a coat.  “Miles, a man was asking about you.  He rode a palomino…”

In this meaningless life, I have seen everything, including the fact that some good people die young and some wicked people live on and on.”  –Ecclesiastes 7:15 (NLT)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

     The last statement caused me to look up.  Yep, snow would most likely be coming tomorrow if not sooner.  I sure didn’t want to spend a night out in it, so I needed to get this taken care of now.  Breathing a little prayer then I put the Greener in my left hand, I didn’t want to slaughter those boys, just arrest them.  Pulling my Schofield, a pistol I had grown quite attached to since I purchased it several years ago.

     Taking a deep breath, I stepped up to the doorway.  I was careful not to look at the fire they had blazing in the room.  “Hands up!” I ordered.  As always, there has to be one who doesn’t understand that command.  The man to my left went for his gun.  I fired, there was a funny sound, a pinging noise then I saw him clutch his hand as his gun dropped.

     “You shot me!” he cried, but my attention was on his friend.  

     Smiling, I said, “Take your chance or unbuckle your gunbelt.”

     “I’m bleeding,” hollered the other miscreant.

     “Doesn’t sound like much of a warrior,” I said looking at the man who dropped his belt.  “Step away.”  

     I reached down with the Greener to pick up his belt by the barrel and bring it to where I was standing.  “Is that why Ignacio sent you two away?  You cry like babies?”

     He stiffened, but the other man was now stooped over holding his wrist.  I could see by the light of the fire that he was badly bleeding.  “Best be seein’ to your friend before he bleeds to death.”

     I picked up the gunbelt and tossed it by the entrance, then glanced over at the young buck’s hand.  It was torn up severely, one of the bones, maybe both broken.  “You boys have names?”

     “I am Billy Blackhand, he is Davy Logan,” he said with a sneer to his voice.  Then he looked at me with defiance, “We are not of Ignacio,” he spit, “who acts like an old woman.  We ride with Colorow.”

     “Yeah, an’ he’d be real proud of you, howlin’ like that.”  I knew that Ignacio was fighting to keep the Ute lands for the Southern Ute, but he was also a wise chief understanding like Ouray did that the days of his people were numbered if they continued to fight.  I understood also, that Coloraw was very active in his hostility.  “I thought Coloraw was mostly with the Northern Utes.  I do know this, that both Ignacio and Coloraw are honorable warriors.  They would not kill defenseless Navaho sheepherders.”

     The wound was still bleeding, so I thought it was time I took over.  An artery must be severed.  Holstering my gun, I pulled some pigging strings from the pocket of my vest and tied Billy’s hands behind his back, and pushed him down to sit.  Then I turned my attention to Logan.  I immediately saw part of the problem.  My bullet had hit the hilt of his knife and knocked off a piece of wood which sliced through the man’s hand followed by my bullet.  Bones were broken at his wrist with one poking out.

     “Son, you’re in bad shape.  You might want to consider singin’ your death song, or better yet turn to the One who died on the tree for your soul.”  I grabbed the sleeve of his shirt to wrap his hand.  Then I reached for another pigging string to tie up his arm in a tourniquet.  I knew that it was dangerous for he could lose his arm, and that was not good for a Ute warrior, even a wannabe one.  Finally, I was able to get the blood to stop, but he needed a doctor and the nearest one was back in Durango.  I’m not sure I could save his arm to get him back, much less his life.

     He had passed out, and I was hesitant to tied up his arm, but I did tie his feet together.  He still had one good hand.  I moved him while he was unconscious and tried to make him somewhat comfortable.  Then I glanced around the room.  “Any more wood around?” I asked the other man.

     “Outside,” he replied defiantly.

     Picking up the gunbelt, I went outside to see to Hawk and bring him up to the adobe.  After I unsaddled him, I rubbed him down, then grabbed an armful of wood to bring inside the adobe.  There was no other shelter, so I dropped the wood on the far side of the fire.  The man hadn’t moved and the other was still unconscious.  I sighed, then went back outside. 

     Grabbing the reins, I led Hawk inside the room.  “No need for you to stand outside when the snow starts.  Just mind your manners.”

     I fed the fire, made a pot of coffee, then settled down for a long night.

     Then, sometime during the night…