Miles found the desperado he had been chasing, or found what was left of him.  He was in terrible condition and Miles knew the only hope for him was to get him back to a doctor in Durango.  He also felt the pressing need of getting home to help Molly and the others in their traditional Thanksgiving feed to those down and out.

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

       The hostler, who I learned his name was Indian Joe Larkin.  He claimed to be part Ute, but I had my doubts on that, said that he had a wagon I could use.  Upon being shown the wagon I reckoned it was usable, but Hawk and Two-Bits could not pull it.  For one, they were unused to the harness, and second, the size and stride difference of the two animals.  Hmpf, talk about unequally yoked.

       When I asked Indian Joe about a team, he acquired a wide smile.  “I have two mules that’ll pull that wagon easily.  Cost you twenty dollars a piece for them.”

       I gave him a hard look, I don’t care much for being scammed.  He must have taken notice as he changed his tune quickly.  “Uh, ten dollars each?” he questioned timidly.

       Nodding I reached in my vest pocket for my little pouch and pulled out a single eagle for him.  Maybe my conscience grabbed me, for I counted out five silver dollars to give him for the use of his wagon.  “I don’t know when I’ll be able to bring it back,” I told him directly.

       “Just keep it for me somewhere.  I’m not expecting to need it anytime soon.  Hay and feed are delivered to me.”

       That was Wednesday, it’s now Friday.  Indian Joe helped me throw hay into the wagon and I went to the hotel to retrieve my burden.  I wrapped him in a couple of blankets and placed him as comfortably as I could in the wagon, not knowing if he would be alive when we arrived in Durango or not.  

       Doc Jones, who normally helps out in the feed, spent most of the day in surgery on Collins.  Edith helped him with the surgery so we lost her help for much of the time.  Fortunately Darnelle jumped in to help and Betty, the preacher’s wife worked hard.  Mateo and his family also fell into help us.  I don’t know if I was imagining, but it seemed that there were twice as many down and out miners as last year.  Men who went searching for their El Dorado, who now were living in the dregs.  It was late, so I knew the big mining companies already had their lay-off and kept their workers for the winter.

       Emelda, with Marta’s niece Lola, kept the food coming from the kitchen.  The people had their choice of either venison stew, or chili made from cows that Cecil Thompson had given for the occasion.  In fact, several of his hands helped with the preparing of the beef and stayed around to eat.  This year it seemed that others from the town joined us, some from the wrong side of town, and even a few from the barrio, not that we minded and it gave Rev. Chapman an opportunity to witness to them.

       It was dark and we were in the process of sitting down after cleaning up.  We smiled at each other, though it was a tired smile.  Marta poured coffee for the Chapmans, myself, Lola, Emelda while Molly was back in the kitchen doing something.  Mateo had taken his family home and was making his early rounds.  I could hear Molly humming as she came back to us holding a pie in her hands.  “For special people a special treat.  I kept it hidden during the day.”

       She stood over to cut it when Doc Jones came in.  Talk about someone looking tired.  The Parson jumped up to give his chair to Doc.  Marta hurried to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of chili that was still on the stove while I poured him a cup of coffee.

       “How is he, Doc?” Molly asked, beating me to my question.

       He started shaking his head.  “Bad shape…very bad.  I had to take the toes off one foot and cut back the heel on the other.  Two fingers were removed, and oh, the poor man, one side of his face was severely frozen.”

       Taking the spoon he began to eat rapidly.  After four or five spoonfuls, he looked up at us watching.  “Could you fix a bowl for Edith.  I left her over with the patient.”  

       I watched as Molly cut a big portion of the pie for Doc and Edith, then I asked, “Will he survive?”

       Doc sighed heavily.  “I don’t know, Miles.  I tried to get all the dead flesh from him, but the gangrene was already starting to set in,” he replied wearily.

       It became quiet as we watched Doc finish his chili.  Marta had a bowl to take to Edith and Molly had wrapped the pie.  When Doc stood, he just nodded at us, then he gave a smile, “I’m so very thankful that I have friends like the lot of you.”

       Rev. Chapman got up then telling us that he was going over to see the man.  He asked if I would see Betty on home.

       I knew that Marta, Lola, and Emelda would be going together so I wasn’t worried about them.  “Get me a bowl of chili, and wrap up my pie,” I said, looking at Molly.  “We can drop them off for Lucas on the way home…

Miles found Lark Collins, maybe frozen, on the floor of an old miner’s shack.  If he was breathing it was so shallow that Miles couldn’t tell, so he wrapped him in a blanket and tied him on the back of Two-Bits and was heading back to Hermosa.  The cold was bitter with the wind blowing a little harder kicking up the snow that had fallen.  Will Miles bring in a frozen corpse, or will Collins live to stand trial?  Let’s go back to those days of yesteryear.

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

       A little over an hour later I was bringing the body, dead or alive, into the little community of Hermosa.  It was only a hour or so but with the cold and wind it seemed like three.  I felt near frozen myself as I untied Collins from the back of Two-Bits and carried him inside the small hotel.  

       Upon entering the clerk, snarled, hollered, “Is he dead?”

       “Get some blankets and place them by the fire,” I ordered and he hurried off to find some.  Shortly he returned then laid down two in front of the fireplace and I laid Collins on top of them.  “Stoke that fire up some,” I ordered again and he quickly went to the task while I covered Collins with two more blankets.

       “Watch him while I take care of my horses,” I said, then was up and back out the door into the cold.

       Upon arriving at the livery, I didn’t bother to see if the hostler was around, I opened the large door and led my two horses inside out of the wind.  It was some warmer, the proprietor had a small pot-bellied stove over to one side that warmed the room up some.  Immediately I began to unsaddle Two-Bits even before putting him in a stall.  Having her bridle and saddle off I led her toward the middle of the room, I didn’t want to get too close to the stove, but I wanted to warm her up as I rubbed her down.  She stood there, enjoying being out of the weather while I unsaddled Hawk, placing him in a stall.

       I worked on Two-Bits for about fifteen minutes when the hostler came in and began to complain.  I was in no mood for his nonsense and told him so.  “Get over here and grain these horses,” I commanded.  He took offense when I opened my coat and he saw my badge and pistol.  “They both need water so take care of that first, then make sure they’re fed properly.  I want this mare rubbed down some more.  She spent the night out in the cold.”

       Buttoning up my coat, I watched for a few minutes while the hostler got busy.  “I take it you found your man,” mumbled the hostler as he started to pour water in the trough from a bucket.

       “Found a stiff body, I don’t know if he’s dead or not.  I need to go back to the hotel to check on him.  You do right with those horses, you hear!” I warned him then strode outside.

       When I entered the hotel, I glanced at the clerk who gave a little shrug with his shoulders.  After taking off my coat and laying it on a chair I stooped down to check on Collins.  He still looked lifeless.  His fingers had turned black and one cheek was discolored.  Shaking my head I went back to the clerk.  “Today is Tuesday, right?” I asked to which he nodded.  “By chance could I get some coffee? I need to warm up.”

       “Uh, I don’t have any here in the lobby.  I could, maybe go next door and get you some,” he stuttered.

       Heaving a sigh, “Then why don’t you maybe go do it.  Bring a pot back.”  With that he scurried off to find a coat then rushed on out the door.  “Today is Tuesday,” I said to myself, “if I can leave tomorrow I can be back in time to help Molly and those at the diner with the Thanksgiving dinner she always prepares.”

       Looking at the body on the floor in front of the fire.  “Lord,” I whispered, “I don’t know what else to do for him.”  Then I seated myself in one of the chairs waiting for the clerk to arrive with the coffee.  Ten minutes later, he came through the door.  Very efficiently he poured a cup for me, setting it on a table then placed the pot by the fire to keep it warm. I nodded a “thanks” to him.

       I must have dozed off and saw that it was almost dark.  My stomach was reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.  Getting up I went to look for the clerk who was nowhere to be found.  I didn’t want to leave the man to go next door to eat, so I checked the coffeepot and poured the rest of the brew into my cup.  I had just sat back down when I heard a faint sound.  A groan coming from the blankets.

       Moving to the lump on the floor, I knelt down next to him and thought I saw his eyelids flutter.  His lips twitched.  I got up quickly and poured a glass of water from a pitcher that was in the lobby.  Bringing it back I took my finger, wet with water to his lips.  He licked them with his tongue.  He was alive, but I wasn’t sure what shape he was in.  I wet my fingers again, moistening his lips.  His eyes opened and he jerked away.

       “You must feel sorta like some of those men you handcuffed to the hitching posts in the winter who froze to death,” I remarked.  He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were open wide now.  “Let me get you uncovered and check how much of you is frost bitten.”

       Taking the covers off, I started with his boots.  He moaned loudly as I tugged them off.  I was worried some that his toes might come off with the boot.  They were in bad shape, some of them black.  I already knew he had one hand with fingers blacked.  He needed a doctor or gangrene was going to set in.  The closest one was Doc Jones back in Durango.

       “Mister,” I spoke calmly, “if you want to live we have to travel to Durango no later than tomorrow.”  I looked down at his feet.  “I don’t think you’ll be able to sit in a saddle…

Two-Bits, Molly’s horse, has been stolen.  There has been a gunfight at the jail in Durango and one of the miscreants has been captured.  The crooked marshal of Silverton is waiting trial or escape, but it seems that only one of his men has remained loyal, the others fleeing or lying in the street dead.  Miles has followed Lark Collins up the Animas Canyon and has stayed the night at a small hotel in Hermosa.  What will the dawn bring?  Success or more trouble?  Come with me to see the old west opened up with the Saga of Miles Forrest.

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

       It was cold the next morning and I hated the thought of getting out from under the covers.  The fire in the little stove had gone out, I could see ice on the window and the air was frosty.  As I got out of bed I began to shiver so I hurriedly put on my clothes.  I wasn’t planning on staying so I didn’t take the time to make a fire but went on my way downstairs where I reckoned it would be warm.

       Right next to the hotel was a small cafe that also housed a saloon.  The cold took my breath away when I stepped outside so I hastened to the cafe.  This was only November but it felt like January outside.  Hawk was not going to relish riding out in this temperature.  

       Even before I sat, the waitress had coffee on the table for me.  “You want the special or the small order?” she chirped.  She was happy, and I thought that she must not have come in from the outside.  

       Placing the cup between both hands warming them, I replied, “Go ahead with the special.”

       Thirty minutes and three eggs, a dozen pieces of bacon, and a plateful of pancakes later, I was up putting my coat on to go get Hawk.  I ate plenty, so my body was fueled up, and I hope that Hawk had been fed properly.  It was a cold job waiting for us.

       Finding Hawk in good shape, I mounted, pulled down my hat, and pulled up the collar on my coat.  Since snow had fallen last night, not much – about four inches, but it was plenty to hide any tracks left by Two-Bits; I had to follow my senses.  There’s a verse that is one of my favorites, “The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord.”  That was going through my mind, for to find this crook I was going to need His guidance.

       It was cold, the temperature way below freezing and there was a goodly breeze blowing down from the north.  Hawk ducked his head, then moved out in a trot until we were out of the little community where I brought him to a walk.  There were several cabins on up the road, I had visited several in my time in Durango as a peace officer, but it seemed that there were always new ones springing up.  Collins could be in any one of them.

       Stopping at the first three, I was told that nary a soul had ventured their direction yesterday.  I was told that there was a cabin down by the river an mile or so ahead that was vacant.  I’d head there.

       We’d been out a little less than two hours, when Hawk stopped, his ears perking up and he gave a snort.  He and I had rode many trails together, and I knew to trust him, so I gave him his head to lead out.  With the wind coming from the north, he must have caught a scent of something.  He moved on towards a game trail that would lead on down to the river.  There was a one-room shack, not the one I was told about.  

       Then I saw movement, Hawk did as well and headed for it.  Behind the shack on the leeward side stood Two-Bits, still with bridle and saddle on.  The anger riled up in me to leave my good horse out like that all night, any horse for that matter.  As we grew closer I noticed there wasn’t any smoke coming from the shack, nor was there a light inside.  Hawk moved right up next to Two-Bits who did not even acknowledge him.  Dismounting, I held the Greener in my left hand, and went to check on Two-Bits.  The little mare was all right, cold for sure and I needed to get him to a stall and some food.  Hawk moved closer and she must have felt some heat coming from him and nudged in right next to him.

       I moved up to the door, there was a window, but it was too dark inside for me to see.  Breathing a deep sigh, I kicked open the door and rushed in.  On the floor lay a man, no coat, no blanket.  I nudged him with the barrel of the Greener and found no movement.  Glancing at the little fireplace I could see that a fire hadn’t been made in it for some time.  Bending over the man he looked bluish, but I couldn’t tell if he was alive or frozen to death.  

       Going quickly back to Hawk, I took off my bedroll bringing it into the shack and wrapped the man up in it.  I hated to put Two-Bits through this, but I had to throw him over the saddle and tie him down.  Twenty minutes later we were headed back to Hermosa.  I didn’t bother stopping at any of the cabins, for there wouldn’t be any room for us, nor was there any stable for Hawk and Two-Bits.

       It was a cold ride back to Hermosa and the livery…

Miles’ cabin had been broken into, and from the looks of it Two-Bits, Molly’s horse had been stolen.  Could it be the man that Miles was after, the crooked deputy of Todd Johnson, Lark Collins?  Come with me now as we follow the trail of Miles Forrest as he seeks to retrieve the stolen horse and bring the culprit to justice.

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

       Noticing the saddle was gone from the tack room and that Two-Bits was missing from the pasture I had to surmise that she had been stolen.  I also didn’t like the fact that the sanctity of our home had been violated with the break in, besides the eating of our food.  It seemed to fit that this was the man I had been looking for.

       Going back to the cabin I found Molly cleaning up the place.  She said that she couldn’t find anything missing, but then stomped her foot, “The audacity of coming in uninvited to eat our food!”  

       I had to smile at her indignation.  “Pack me up some food for the trail.  He’s stolen Two-Bits,” I said matter-of-factly.  “I’ll need enough for a couple of days.”

       She sighed and nodded.  I went back out to round up one of my horses.  I thought about taking Star.  If he headed west, Star would catch up quickly.  On the other hand, if I had to move slowly, and  up into the mountains, Hawk would be a better choice.  Looking around, letting my inner senses work, I decided on Hawk.  If anything I figured that Lark would try to make it back to Silverton.  He might try to board the train at Hermosa.

       By the time I’d saddled Hawk and walked him back to the cabin, Molly had a sack of food for me, my bedroll, and handed me my heavy coat.  “If you’re headed north or east you might need this,” she said, then looked up at the sky.  “This is November, and I sense a storm coming.”

       I nodded in agreement not knowing if she meant an actual storm or one that would happen when I caught up with the thief.  Taking the sack from her hand I wrapped the cord tying it to the saddle horn with my canteen on the other side.  Mounting up I moved back to the stalls where I would pick up the tracks of Two-Bits.  She would be easy to follow, I knew her tracks by heart and she had a short stride.  

       The man didn’t try to hide his tracks but headed on out toward the river and north.  Since I knew the tracks of Two-Bits I could follow at a fairly good pace.  I had been out for an hour and was moving up the canyon when the temperature seemed to all of a sudden drop and the wind picked up.  Twenty minutes later snow gently began to fall I stopped to don my sheepskin coat.  It would be dark before reaching Hermosa.  If I didn’t catch up with him before getting there at least I wouldn’t have to sleep outside in the cold.

       Watching carefully, I figured that the tracks might head off toward one of the ranches in the area, but no, they kept plodding north.  With the storm beginning to develop, darkness swept down rapidly.  It was dark when I saw a few lights in homes and buildings in Hermosa.  It was a small town, built to supply the railroad.  It only made sense that Lark would find refuge somewhere in the little community. 

       I went first to the little livery in the town to check if Two-Bits was there, and then to find a stall for Hawk for the night.  The hostler said that no one had come by and that he would grain and water Hawk.  He informed me that there wasn’t another livery in the town but that a couple of places had small corrals–the hotel and the mercantile to which he pointed.

       To get to the hotel I had to pass the store, so I checked the corral behind it.  Nothing.  I ventured on to the hotel and before entering to get a room, I went to the corral in the back.  Again, no horses.  I couldn’t follow the tracks in the dark if he decided to continue north.  There were small groups of houses further north, eight miles or so, but I didn’t think he was that far ahead of me.  By the time I entered the hotel, the wind was beginning to gust harder and the snow came down faster.  I didn’t feel so sorry for the man if he decided to camp out in it as I did for Two-Bits.  The man should have more sense.

       There was a small cafe in the hotel and after securing my room I went for a bite to eat.  After a dinner of venison stew I went up to my room.  The hotel was small, only ten rooms, but each one of them had a small fireplace with wood stacked next to it.  The snow was coming down regular, and the temperature was dropping rapidly.  It took a minute or so, but soon I had a fire going.

       Pulling off my boots I laid on top of the bed, pulling my Bible from the saddlebag.  Now, I’m not one to try to throw a fleece before the Lord, but He has done so many wonderful and amazing things for me in the past, when my finger touched a verse it seemed to tingle.  “In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”  I knew that verse by heart, but it seemed to blaze within my soul.  Laying the Bible down on my chest I gazed up toward the ceiling and smiled…