Phooey!” yelled Marshal Udall.  “You can tell me down at the office.  What about these others, Doc?”

       The doctor looked at his future patients, then muttered, “The others need to come down to my place so I can work on them properly.  These two men have lost quite a bit of blood, so has Mr. Green.”

       “Forrest, you come with me,” ordered Udall with a snarl.

       I looked at the men; they may have lost blood, but I know what a cornered skunk can do.  “Who’s goin’ to see after this men?  Take their testimony?”

       Udall had an angry look on his face.  He turned to his deputy, “Case, think you can watch over those men?”

       Deputy Case was in pain from where my shotgun crashed down on his arm breaking it.  He glanced at the men now being carried out and down to the doctor’s office.  “I imagine I can handle it.”

       “Good!” exclaimed the doctor, as he was escorting Mr. Green to the entry.  “Come over here and help me.”

       “Doc, my arm’s broke,” he whimpered.  “I can’t be helping anyone.  It hurts just to take a step.”

       The doctor stood with Mr. Green at the entrance waiting for all of us to leave so that Green could lock up his place.  “You think it hurts now,” he snapped, “You just wait ’til I start working on it if you don’t get over here and help me.”

       I had to bring my hand to my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.  Here was the tough, boisterous deputy whining.  I was just a-waiting for him to break out in tears.  But then I looked at his arm beginning to swell.  I reckoned it did hurt some.

       Marshal Udall was outside with Adams waiting for the place to clear and for me and Elfego to walk out.  We were the last to leave.  I watched the doctor, along with the deputy and Green stumble over to his office.  

       “You two come with me!” commanded the Marshal.

       “Go on along, we’ll be down shortly,” I told the Marshal.

       “I said now,” he almost screamed.  He put his hand on the butt of his gun.  

       When someone, like this belligerent marshal orders me to do something it sort of makes me want to tighten my cinch.  I stared at him.  “Marshal, that wouldn’t be a good idea.  I said we’ll be along shortly.”

       His hand stayed on his gun.  I could see in his eyes that he wanted to pull it.  Some things I don’t have a notion as to why people think the way they do.  We were supposed to be on the same side, but if he pulled his pistol, I’d have to pull mine and the results would be ugly.  

       We continued our staring contest for several more seconds before the marshal moved his hand then pushed Adams toward the jail.  “Just don’t be long!”  

       I allowed him the last word, then turned to Elfego.  “Do you know these men?” I asked, my eyes boring into his.

       “No, Senor, only that they watch you and they are some of those that pressure the comerciante,” he replied.

       I took a step toward the jail, Elfego hesitated.  “Come on, the Marshal wants both of us.”  I could see fear in his face.  That was the first time for he was as cool as a cucumber when the shooting started.  “You were pretty slick with my gun,” I mentioned to him as I grabbed him by the shoulder and we started down the street.  “How did you learn to shoot so accurately with a pistol?”

       He gave a little shrug, then finally answered.  “I don’t know.  It just comes as, you would say, naturally.”

       When we got there Adams was in the cell and Marshal Udall was waiting for us just inside the doorway.  Anger was still etched on his face, then he snarled, “Kid, I ought to knock you into next week!”

       He raised his arm back ready…

Hold on!  Don’t fire!” yelled the voice who just appeared in the doorway.  He was standing behind the two men that Elfego shot.  I was ready to cut loose with the Greener when he yelled.

       I took a couple of steps toward the entrance.  “Take their guns…nice and easy.  Come in and place them on the counter,” I said pointing with the shotgun.

       The second man Elfego shot was sitting on the floor while the first man was leaning on the frame of the entrance grasping onto it so he could stand.  I saw him raise his arm, pistol in hand.  “Better get that gun before he points it!” I declared.  This close the shotgun would cut the two standing in half.

       “Give me the gun, Bo,” urged the man standing behind him.

       The man, Bo, couldn’t steady his gun arm.  It was weaving all around.  “That Mex kilt Joe,” he hissed.

       “Bo, give me the gun,” the man pleaded.  An evil smirk appeared on Bo’s face, then all expression disappeared as he fell to the floor.  

       The man reached down to pick up the gun.  “With the finger tips,” I warned him.  “On the counter.  Yours too.”

       The man did right well with my instructions, then went to get the other man’s gun.  When the guns were placed on the counter I looked to see how Mr. Green was doing.  He was leaning against some sacks of potatoes, pale as a ghost and holding his bleeding arm.  The deputy was standing off to my left holding his broken arm against his chest.

       Lowering the Greener, I looked at Elfego.  “Give me my gun and run get a doctor.”  He placed the pistol in my hand then took off jumping over the two men on the floor.  It bothered me that he had the audacity to pull my gun from its holster.  Bothered me more that I let him, didn’t even know it until it happened.  

       I looked around surveying the scene and whispered a quick silent prayer of “thank you Lord, before I went over to Mr. Green.  Spotting a chair over against the wall.  I guided him in that direction and helped him get situated in it.  “Here,” I said handing him some kind of cloth from the display.  “Hold this tight against the wound.”

       There was still the smell of smoke in the room when the doctor appeared with Elfego five minutes later.  I watched him glance at the situation.  Saw the two men on the floor, then the deputy and finally against the wall Mr. Green.  I pointed toward Green and he rushed right over.  While he was examining his wound I walked up to the only non-casualty in the room besides myself and Elfego.

       His first glance was to the shotgun I held in my left hand.  “You got a name?” I asked.

       “Adams, Ken Adams,” he replied nervously.

       “How ’bout them two?” I asked, nodding toward the two men on the floor.  Both of whom were unconscious and from where I was standing I couldn’t tell if they were breathing or not.

       “This one,” he said looking at the man to my right, “is Bo Crandall.  The other fellow is Tobacco Joe Sanchez.”

       By this time there was quite a gathering outside the door.  The doc had finished with Mr. Green and told the deputy that he’d be with him in a bit.  “Harvey,” he hollered, “grab someone and help get Phil down to my office.  I need to cut that bullet out.”

       He then stooped down to examine Crandall.  Shaking his head.  “He’s still breathing, but he’s lost a lot of blood.  Bullet hit him in the side and went straight through.”  He motioned for another man in the crowd to come down and hold the man’s bandanna on the wound in the back with one hand, then took the man’s shirttail and placed it on the wound in front.  “Push steady, hold him like he was a sandwich.”

       Next he scooted over to Sanchez.  “Hmmm, there’s blood on his thigh, but…” he said as he started looking at the man’s head.  When he touched a spot the man winced, opening his eyes.  “Must have hit it on the floor when he fell.”

       “All right, Deputy Case, let me tend to you,” he informed him, standing and walking to him.

       While he was taking care of the deputy, Marshal Udall finally showed up at the scene.  His eyes widened when he saw the two men down on the floor.  He then glanced over at his deputy, finally his gaze rested on me.  “What happened?”

       “Why don’t you ask him?” I asked, pointing at Adams. 

       I sort of nonchalantly moved the shotgun I was holding from my left hand to the right.  I noticed the eyes of Adams flickered watching the movement.

      “Ken, tell me what happened.   Who started the shooting?”

       Glaring at him, I pulled on the end of my moustache with my left hand.

       “Well, I…”

We were sitting on a bench in the shade of an adobe building that was being used for a general store.  I chose this spot so I could keep an eye on the corner in case the thugs decided to come looking for me.  “Tell me what you know,” I urged Elfego.

       “Not much, senor.  Marshal Udall does very little that I can see,” he began.  “Those two men and others put pressure on the merchants to pay them.  They force them to buy, how you say, an insurance policy.”

       I’d seen this scam before.  Pay me to protect you and if you don’t I’ll bust your head.  I knew it was common practice among some of the gangs back in the big eastern cities.  Rackets, people preying on the less fortunate or the weaker.  “Who is runnin’ this racket?”

       “I do not know.  I’m not sure even how many men there are.  I’ve seen those two,” he said pointing from the way we came.

       “There were three of them,” I interrupted.  “One was across the street.”

       “There are others though, I know it,” he spoke excitedly.

       Putting my hand on his shoulder, I said, “You best run along.  I’ll go see if anyone will talk to me about what is happenin’ to them.”

       He shrugged my hand off his shoulder.  “I go with you!” he protested.  “They will not speak to a gringo.”

       I nodded, he might have something there.  It takes time to gain people’s trust, and I had just ridden into town.  “Let’s start here,” I urged as I stood then started for the door of the general store.

       It was dark inside, with the only light coming from the windows on the side and in the front.  There was one lamp lit over by the checkout counter.  An elderly gentleman was wiping off the glass cases with a cloth when we entered.  He was grayish, wearing a white shirt with suspenders holding up a pair of dark blue trousers.

       He stopped his wiping and straightened up as I approached him.  “Mornin’, Sir.  I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Miles Forrest and thought you might be able to help me out.”

       I could tell he was surprised when I said he could help out a marshal.  Then he saw Elfego and gave him a smile.  “What can I help you with, Marshal?” he asked, emphasizing the “I”. 

       “On behalf of the territorial government, I’ve been asked to come check out some disturbances in Socorro.  When I arrived it came to my attention that the merchants here are bein’ strong-armed into buyin’ protection.”  His smile left him when I informed him, and he took a step back.  A look of panic crossed his face and I could see he was glancing out the window.

       “Uh, well, Marshal, that’s not true.  I don’t know what the boy told you.  You know how young lads like to imagine things,” he said with a false laugh.

       “Did I say anything about Elfego?” I questioned, stepping toward the man.  “You willingly give into thugs?”

       “It’s, it’s not like that,” he stammered.  “We, I, pay for certain services…”

       Elfego tugged on my vest, and I nodded my head that I knew.  “Mr. Green, is this man bothering you?” came the voice of the deputy.

       I turned so that I could watch the deputy and by turning my head could see the proprietor.  “No, Deputy Case.  We were just having a discussion.”

       The deputy put his hand on his gun butt.  “Mister, you best come along with me,” he commanded.

       “It’s Deputy United States Marshal Miles Forrest, in case you forgot,” I quickly reminded him, then added.  “I don’t think I’ll be goin’ anywhere with you.  I have business to attend to.”

       He snarled, then started toward his gun.  I brought the Greener down on his wrist, hearing the bone snap, then felt a tug of someone grabbing my pistol from the holster.  A shot was fired from the doorway, hitting the merchant.  He groaned as he fell.  I leveled, the Greener in that direction when I heard the sound of my gun firing.  The man fell against the frame of the door as Elfelgo fired my gun.  I pushed the deputy aside as he was moaning holding his broken arm.  Another man appeared in the doorway and began to fire.  Elfego fired again.

       I didn’t want to cut loose with the Greener as I wanted one of these men for a witness.  I could see the third man running across the street to join them.  It was against my better judgment, but I also wanted to stay alive, so…

After a breakfast of huevos rancheros, refried frijoles, and several tortillas along with a pot of coffee, Elfego escorted me to the marshal’s office.  I didn’t know Udall, but Elfego told me not to expect much from him.  I tried not to go in with a preconceived notion, but my first impression of him wasn’t good.  He and a deputy were at the desk playing cards.  Now, I couldn’t say for sure, but I thought he should be making the rounds of the town, checking things out.

       The deputy, a young man, probably in his mid-twenties turned toward the door when I entered.  His hand went to the butt of his gun; oh, I could see he was ready for action.  I didn’t even bother to lift the Greener.  The marshal just sat there, then looked up from the cards he was holding.  He was a man past his prime, a little on the pudgy side.  His hair was receding and what was there was streaked with grey.  By his demeanor I could tell he was passing his time just waiting for a paycheck–in other words a hireling.

       Neither greeted me nor said a polite “Howdy, good mornin’ to yuh.”  They just sat, dumbfaced.  Finally, the marshall spoke, “What’s that little snip of a kid doing hiding behind you?  Get him out of my office!”

       Now I didn’t care for his tone nor his words.  I put one hand behind me, motioning for Elfego to stay.  “The kid’s with me,” I stated, my eyes boring into his.

       His lips curled into a snarl as he stood.  “Get him out!”

       “Mister…”

       He interrupted me, “It’s marshal!”

       I ignored him and continued emphasizing, “Mister, I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re asking for a thump.”

       Now he bared his upper teeth like some mongrel dog.  The deputy swirled in his chair, “You don’t…”  I didn’t let him finish for he was on the receiving end of one of my thumps.  It didn’t put him out, but it settled him back down in his chair with him rubbing the side of his head.

       “I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal, Miles Forrest, and I just came by to let you know I’ll be in town for a spell,” I asserted.  “Go on back to your cards.  I’m goin’ to take a paseo around your little town with my friendly guide.”  I put my arm around Elfego’s shoulders drawing him up next to me.

       The marshal started to say something, but I shook my head.  “Don’t go sayin’ anything you might get a headache over.”  I nudged Elfego and we walked back out of the office.  Glancing around I noticed one of the men across the street sitting on a bench in front of a saddle shop.  Looking up the street there were the other two men I noticed earlier.

       “Senor,” said Elfego, “we have friends.”

       “I know, but I wouldn’t call them friends just yet,” I responded.  “Why does that marshal hate you so much?” I asked as we began walking up the boardwalk back toward the center of town.

       “Because I am a Mexican…” he paused.  “Because I keep better watch over the town than he does.”

       “That so?  Let’s cross the street and go greet those two, show them our friendliness,” I said leaving the boardwalk and moving at an angle toward the men.

       “Fine day,” I said, walking up to them.  It caught them by surprise.  One of them grunted, the other stammered then nodded.  I stopped, turned my head to look at them.  “I’d advise you to keep it that way.”

       “Now see here!  We’re just standing here minding our own business,”

       “Ohhhh,” he groaned.  Elfego kicked him above the knee.  He began to slope, so I sighed thinking “why not?” and threw a right hand punch catching him on the jaw.  He collapsed to the ground.  

       His friend started to grab for his gun.  “You really don’t want to do that,” I warned, bringing the shotgun to bear.  The man calmed down right quick like.  “Help your friend up, and let’s go about enjoying this day that the Lord has given us.”  I grabbed Elfego by the shoulders pushing him along.

       We walked around the corner then stopped to sit on the bench in front of a butcher shop.  “Elfego, tell me what you know…”