The Saga of Miles Forrest

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
So he was a pretty good kid?” asked Doc Jones, scratching the side of his head.
       I swerved my head in every direction to make sure Elfego wasn’t somewhere listening.  “Yeah, Doc, he is a good kid.  In some ways he takes on responsibility as if he’s already full-grown.
       “I still can’t believe you gave him that gun,” lamented Edith.  Edith had been working with Molly since Marta had the baby.   “He’s likely to do something stupid–like get himself killed.”
       “He’ll do all right with it.  I told him to go back to work as a deputy with his father.  He’ll be fine,” I said hopefully, then added, “I also gave him a Bible.”
       “Hmpf, a gun and a Bible!” voiced Edith with some disgust in her tone.  
       It was good to be back in Durango, at the diner, with friends.  I was sitting with Molly, sipping on some good coffee for a change and explaining all that went on back in Socorro.  I sent telegrams to both Marshal Blasco and Marshal Wilcox regarding Stinson.  They both told me I could come home.  I’d fill out my report regarding the extortion ring run by Knaught and Udall, but that there was no apparent connection to Stinson.  I’d received a telegram from Judge Norris saying that Knaught received five years in prison.  He would be sent to Canon City to serve his time.  I could almost read the disgust in the note, and it was Judge Norris that had to do the sentencing.
       “Shame nothing more could be done about that fellow Knaught,” muttered Molly.  I glanced at her and smiled.  “What?  What are you smiling at?”
       “It makes me smile that sometimes you can read my thoughts,” I replied, with an even larger smile, and pulling at my moustache.  
       “Okay, okay,” she said, nudging me with her elbow.  “Doc, how about you?  Want a piece of pie?  I need to go get the Marshal here a piece.”
       Doc looked up, and uttered, “I’d like a piece of chocolate if you have one.”
       Molly had just stood when the front door opened.  At this time of day there are relatively few customers, but occasionally one does drop in.  Looking up, I saw who it was and hollered to Molly.  “Bring Mateo a piece as well.”
       Mateo wandered toward us.  “Do I need to arrest this scoundrel for telling lies?” He asked, nodding toward me.
       “Now, Marshal, there’s no one at this table who’d tell a lie,” I paused, standing to my feet.  “Unless it’s Doc, here.”  Then I proceeded to grab a cup from the counter and pour him a cup of coffee as he sat down with us.  By that time Molly had returned with a tray with five plates each having pie on them.  
       “You were fortunate Doc, this is the last piece of chocolate,” stated Molly.  “Mateo, take your pick.  Miles isn’t too fussy when it comes to pie.”  
       I looked at the four pieces left on the tray–custard, apricot, and two pieces of blackberry.   My eyes looked at the four sitting there, and I was just hoping that I’d get a piece of that blackberry pie.  “Oh, quit your drooling, Miles.  Here!” cajoled Molly, again reading my mind, and handing me a piece of blackberry pie.
       Molly started to go to the counter asking on her way, “Honey or sugar, Mateo?”
       When he replied honey, Doc and I both stared at him for several seconds.  “Mateo!” said Doc with a scowl on his face.  “Honey, and that sweet pie will do you in one of these days.”
       One thing I had come to realize over the years was that I was blessed with good friends.  The good Lord allows people to come into our lives for a reason–some for a short season, some for a longer period of time.  I’ve learned to not question Him and His timing, but also that I should cherish and enjoy the time He has given me to be with them.
       With a sigh, I looked at Molly, and tapped her on the arm, “Good pie…”

.

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
Elfego and I walked slowly over to Knaught’s office, neither of us saying anything.  He had come back to town, as I saw his horse tied to the post outside his office.  I couldn’t say for sure, but I had a feeling that he went to talk with Stinson.  Even if Stinson was behind Knaught’s extortion dealings, it wasn’t what we wanted to arrest him for.  He was doing much worse evil in the Territory than a small town extortion ring.
       As we opened the door and walked through the doorway, Knaught lifted up his head and exclaimed, “You again!  What now?”
       “You’re under arrest,” I told him simply and calmly.  
       “Hmpf, what charge?” he sneered.
       “Extortion, among other things,” I answered knowing that the judge would have a full list of legal terms at the arraignment.  “Stand up and put your hands behind your back.”
       He stood, but kept his hands down by his side.  “That’s not a federal crime.  You can’t arrest me.”
       I emphasized the Greener as I handed it to Elfego to hold, then started toward Knaught.  “New Mexico is still federal territory.  Anyway, any crime committed I can make an arrest.  Turn around!”
       His hands were still hanging down by his sides.  Oh, how I wanted to give him a thump and was getting ready to do so, when he decided to cooperate.  “I’ll be out ten minutes after you put me in jail.  I run an insurance agency, providing a service for the merchants of this community.  Ask any of them.”
       “I already have,” I said, snapping the handcuffs on his wrists, then giving him a shove toward the door.
       He jerked his head at me when I made that statement, but didn’t say anything.  We walked slowly out the door and down the street toward the jail.  Elfego handed me the shotgun as we exited Knaught’s office.
       People started to stare at us proceeding down the street.  Many stopped to gawk at our little march, and there was a murmur going through the crowd.  Knaught would probably get five years or less, but I was hoping he would break and tell us about Stinson.  Upon entering the jail, the Judge had taken a seat behind Marshal Udall’s desk and the marshal was standing in the doorway to the cells.
       “Bring him to me,” ordered Judge Norris.  As Knaught stood before the Judge, who was reading off a list of crimes he was charged with, some I had never heard before, I kept watching Udall.  When we entered the jail I had given the shotgun back to Elfego and told him to stand outside.
       Knaught stood there with a smirk on his face listening to the Judge.  There was a pause and silence as the judge asked how he pleaded.   There was a slight move of his head toward Udall and with that Udall pulled his gun.
       “Release him!” commanded the marshal.
       “You are plenty stupid!” I cried.  “These are small time charges, and your name hasn’t been mentioned.  Now I reckon I’ll have to arrest you.”
       Udall laughed.  I reached in my vest pocket for the keys to the handcuffs.  I took a step toward Knaught, then tossed the keys.  “You want him released, you do it!”
       As the keys were in the air, I saw his eyes going to them.  That was all I needed to draw and fire.  Two shots filled the air, one from my gun, but then I saw the Judge holding a pistol in his hand.  Udall fell to the floor, dead with two bullets in his chest.
       At the shots, Elfego burst into the office.  The shotgun aimed steadily at Knaught.  I motion with my hand for him to put it down.
       “Lock this man up,” ordered the Judge.  I took Knaught by the elbow and guided him over the prostrated body of Udall on the floor.  A few seconds later I was back in the office, having tucked Knaught tightly in his new, temporary home.
       Coming back to the office I tossed the cell keys on the desk.  The Judge still had his pistol out, but it was now laying on the desk in front of him.  He looked at me, “Marshal, I told you that Udall would be taken care of in due time.”
       Judge Norris stood glancing toward the cell room.  “Why don’t you go get something to eat then come to the jail.  Let Knaught stew awhile, then you can question him later,” he said then paused.  “Do it legal.  Then I’ll question him again tomorrow.  With the charges we have he’ll serve maybe two years.  I’m hoping he’ll give us something to arrest Stinson.”
       I stood looking down at the dead body of the marshal shaking my head.  “Shame for a life to be such a waste.  The good Lord meant for us to be honorable men, especially those of us who wear the badge and stand for justice,” I said looking at the Judge.  “Reckon he knows what true justice is right about now.” 
       Elfego handed me the Greener and we stepped out of the jail into the street…

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
I stayed near waiting for the Judge to be finished with Deputy Case.  I wasn’t too worried that the Judge wouldn’t be able to take care of himself, if Case decided to try and do something to the Judge.  I watched as the men came to clear the body of the dead man off the floor.  No one seemed to know his name.  
       “What is wrong, Senor?” asked Elfego.  “You are scowling.”
       Turning my head to look at him, I gave a small smile.  “I just sent a man to his Maker and I don’t even know his name.  That don’t seem right, but what was causin’ the smile was the fact that Knaught knows his name.”
       Elfego got the same grim look on his face.  The few people left in the church quieted down.  I knew they were hoping to soon get this over with and back to their place of business.  It seemed that Case had been with the Judge for quite a spell when the door opened and he walked out followed by the Judge who stood at the entry to the little office.  He pointed toward a man and motioned him forward.  
       I looked at Elfego who said quietly, “I do not know his name, but he is a butcher.  His meat market is next to the grocery.”
       Case stopped in front of me as he was exiting the room.  “Can I have my gun back?”
       His pistol was stuck in my waistband.  I pulled it out emptying the cartridges and gave it to him.  He didn’t say anything more, just placed the gun in his holster and with somberness walked on out.  Elfego followed him.
       It seemed that the preacher had finished with Mr. Farnsworth so I walked over to talk with him.  “Sorry about the blood on the floor, Preacher.”
       “Most of it will scrub out, but it’ll give me a good sermon illustration.  Something along the lines that when you accept the blood-washing of the Lord Jesus it can never be scrubbed away,” he said, then smiled.  “It may be morbid, but it’s a shame it didn’t happen at the altar.  A blood-stained altar might get the attention of some of these lukewarm parishioners.”
       He left me to go speak with the few that were left sitting on the pews.  He patted a couple of the men on the shoulder, another laughed at something he said.  This seemed to be a good man.  An hour later the last man was interviewed by the Judge and signed his deposition.  The Judge motioned for me to come to the preacher’s office.
       Holding a stack of papers, he waved them at me.  “Go arrest Anton Knaught!”
       It was then that I saw a badge lying on the desk.  “Mr. Case resigned as deputy,” came the words of the Judge.  “He turned state’s evidence and gave me his badge.”
       We both heard someone approach and saw Elfego leaning against the side of the door.  He was courteous enough not to enter unless invited and didn’t want to interrupt our conversation. 
       We looked at him.  “Senior Judge, Senor Marshal, the Deputy, he leave town.  I have no horse to follow.”
       “That’s all right, son.  Thank you for taking the initiative to follow him,” remarked the Judge.
       Elfego looked up at me, a puzzled look on his face.  “This inichitive, what does it mean?”
       I clasped my hand on his shoulder.  “It means you’ve done a good job.”  I turned to the Judge.  “This is quite a young man.”
       “Go arrest Knaught.  I’d like to have the trial in two days,” reported the Judge.
       “Knaught left, remember?” Elfego reminded me.
       “If he’s not in his office we’ll wait for him there,” I replied.  “You ready?”
       “Si,” then he hesitated.  “What about Marshal Udall?”
       The Judge and I glanced at each other.  “The Marshal will be taken care of in due time.”
       Elfego seemed all right with that, he turned toward the doorway.  “Let’s go, Senor Marshal…”

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
The next couple of days I went from store to store interviewing the owners.  A few were cooperative and agreed to witness, but asked that their names not be released until the hearing.  Fear welled up in the face of most of them.  It’s amazing how fear can dominate truth and doing the right thing.   I reckon that’s true in our individual lives as well, old slewfoot allows something to come up and we get fearful and anxious over it and forget to trust in the Lord.  
       Then there were those who outright refused.  That caused me some concern for they wanted to know who was going to help me.  I also wondered if some of them, the saloon owners for example, might not be given a kickback.  It was clear however, that there was extortion going on, but there still was no link to Grady Stinson and it seemed that no one heard of him either.  I still thought there was some kind of connection, that Knaught knew him, but then he could have moved on to someplace else.
       Right now I could connect it to Knaught and his roughnecks.  I had taken some time away from Socorro and rode up the road to send a telegram to the Territorial office of Judge T. L. Norris.  I didn’t want to send it from Socorro, afraid that the message might get into the hands of Knaught.  Judge Norris would be arriving today to listen to witnesses and take depositions.
       It was around 10:00 that the train arrived and I waited for the judge to depart.  I noticed that I always had someone tailing me at a discreet distance.  This morning, however, I saw that it was Deputy Case.  His arm was in a sling, but he was still doing his duty for the marshal and Knaught.  I had never met Judge Norris and only heard a few things regarding the man.  He was said to be firm yet fair.  I knew he was working closely with Governor Wallace in cleaning up the outlaw problems and range warfare.  It was Marshal Wilcox who suggested I contact him.
       We shook hands and I immediately could tell he was a no-nonsense type of guy.  He did smile when I introduced him to Elfego, telling the Judge that he was my right-hand man.  I didn’t mention how he snuck my gun from the holster during the shoot out.  
       “Where can I hold the hearing?” were the first words after our brief introduction that came from his mouth.  I had asked him if he wanted to eat, but he simply replied, “Just keep the coffee on.”
       I offered to carry his valise, but he wouldn’t let me.  I had secured the use of the church from Rev. Sinclair.  The Judge would use his office and the witnesses could sit out in the sanctuary.  Elfego and the Reverend stayed with those in the sanctuary and I went in to act as bailiff for the Judge.  Parson Sinclair said he would make sure that there was coffee.
       Most of the witnesses were very nervous, they knew that they could expect reprisals for their testimony.  The Judge knew what he wanted to ask, and barked out the questions, and wrote their answers.   He would then give the paper, have the witnesses check over it, then he said they could add any comment they wanted to the bottom, then sign it.
       The Judge wanted to work through lunch to get this over.  It was near two o’clock that Elfego came to the door when Mr. Farnsworth, the blacksmith, walked out.  “Excuse me, Senor Judge, marshal, but there is someone out there not on the witness list.  I see him around, sometime, but he doesn’t have a business in Socorro.”
       The Judge nodded at me, “Check him out.  I’ll take a break until you find out who he is.”
       I stood at the entrance to the office with Elfego as he pointed at a man, wearing a gun in a cross-draw rig standing by the door.  He was scanning the few in the sanctuary and when Farnsworth went by him he stepped out in front of him.  Farnsworth would stomp the stuffings out of him, but I saw the man put his hand to his gun.
       “Get out of the way!” I hollered as I started running for the two men.  Farnsworth turned his head to look at me, and felt the gun in his side.  He slashed down with his hands before the gun went off, then fell to the floor.  I drew my gun, seeing that the man was bringing his gun up to shoot at me.  I stopped, fired twice, and the man crumpled to the floor.
       Reverend Sinclair was rushing to the men, when I yelled for him to stop.  I wanted to make sure that the stranger was in no shape to shoot the preacher.  When I got there I nodded at the preacher.  The man seemed dead, but then I saw a flicker in his eyes and a smile, or was it a grimace?   Sinclair was checking out Farnsworth.  The quick movement on his part saved his life.  The bullet discharged and drilled a hole in the floor next to his right boot.  A second later he would have been gut shot.
       Within seconds, the Judge had joined us and Deputy Case came through the door, gun in his hand.  “You’re under arrest!” he hollered, then he looked at the man with me.  “Who is this man?”
       I hadn’t holstered my gun, so I brought it up right in front of the deputy’s face.  Pointing it at him only a few inches away, I commanded.  “Put your gun away!”  
       The deputy seemed confused as well as frightened.  He knew from past experience that I was no one to fool with.  The Judge stopped any indecision and put the confusion at rest when he ordered.  “Marshal, take this man back to the office.  I want to question him.”  Then he turned walking back toward the office.  
       By this time the Parson had helped Farnsworth to his feet, and was quietly talking with him.  Probably about his mortal soul and how he almost met his Maker today.  A couple of people started to get up and leave, but the Judge stopped at the office and sternly reprimanded them, ordering them to sit back down.  I had Deputy Case by his good arm and was directing him to where the Judge would question him.  
       Before entering, I stopped Case making sure he had no other weapons on his person.  “Be sure you are respectful to Judge Norris,” I said with a smile…