The Saga of Miles Forrest

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
Luciana, I don’t know if I’m cut out for this job,” announced Mateo as he sat on the floor in front of the fire with his wife.  The nights were still cool so he made a fire in the little fireplace.  They didn’t have any furniture except for a couple of chairs but he wanted to have Luciana sit with him.  The two boys, Alejo and Enrique, were already in bed.
       Mateo looked worn and ragged.  He had been in Telluride for a week and had arrived home just in time to help his wife send the boys to bed, standing in the doorway listening to them pray.  When Luciana came out he just shook his head then headed to the fireplace.  “Husband, sit down, I will get us some coffee.”
       “No, come and sit beside me.  I don’t care for any coffee tonight, I have too much on my mind,” responded Mateo.  He gave a little grunt then a small groan as he sat on the wooden floor.  Luciana came to him, with a light blanket.
       They were quiet, Luciana waiting for her husband to talk.  She didn’t want to prod him, but she wondered what had put him in such a mood.  He was always positive, enthusiastic, especially about his job, but with his coming home from the trip to Telluride he was morose, quiet, and depressed.  She took him by the hand and they watched the flames flicker.
       “I killed a man from ambush…” he paused.  Luciana gripped his hand tighter.  “It was that bounty hunter and he had Miles pinned down,” he said in a whisper, pausing again to gather his thoughts.  “I normally don’t like to tell you these sort of things, but…then there was a fight in Telluride.  I was jumped by a couple of men.  I, I had to killed them both.  They came out of an alley, yelling for me to go back to Mexico.  They were drunk, and if they hadn’t shot at me I would have walked on by.  Luciana, I am an American.  I was born in this country.  I know little of my parents’ life back in Mexico.”
                                                                                                    * * * * *
       Charlie had just left for Telluride; it was his turn to make the rounds there, plus he needed to check up on the report from Mateo.  It wasn’t that he doubted Mateo, it was simply proper procedure.  Mateo had arrived yesterday, and I hadn’t had a chance to thank him.  
       Doc Jones was sitting with me after Charlie left.  I’d left Hoffner with Cecil Thompson.  Thompson said that he’d care for him since he was one of his hands.  For a gruff old man he had some tenderness hidden in that heart of his.  I’d left the body of Malone with Paul Parker, the undertaker.  Mateo shot him in the leg and I was ready to bring him back to town, but he let out a terrible scream after I tied him to the saddle.  Right after that he died.  I reckon Mateo’s bullet must have hit an artery and he bled out.
       “Have you seen Rev. Chapman yet to tell him about his cousin?” inquired Doc.  
       I sipped my coffee.  “He was relieved saying that after this Sunday’s service he would ride out to Thompson’s to check on his cousin.  He asked about the wanted poster on Clyde.  I told him that I sent telegrams to the local sheriff and also to the state.  I would have to leave it in their hands.”
       “Why are men so evil and vindictive?” asked Molly as she took a chair at the table.  I got up to get her a cup of coffee.  It was always pleasing to me when she took the time to sit beside me and share a cup.  There was only a couple of out-of-work cowboys finishing their breakfast in the diner.  Marta wasn’t feeling well so Molly told her to take a day off and rest.”
       “Molly, I’ve thought about that numerous times,” muttered Doc, scratching the side of his head.  “In my work, I see a lot of the consequences caused by evil men.”  He rubbed down his chin a couple of times.  “Wears on a body sometimes.”
       The front door opened and we all glanced toward it.  “Luciana!” exclaimed Molly.  She surprised us all for she very seldom came down to the diner.
       She strode directly to the table.  Doc stood, pulling out a chair for her to sit while I got her a cup of coffee.  She thanked us, then sighed.  “Senor Miles, Doc,” she paused, putting her hand in Molly’s.  “I’m worried about Mateo.  I know you are his friends…maybe you can help him.”
       Luciana proceeded to tell us about her conversation with Mateo and about her concern for him.  “His mind,” she said, touching the side of her head.  “It is messed up.  He is thinking of quitting as deputy.”
       I thought of his limp from being shot.  Perhaps, he is getting around well enough.  Doc spoke up, “Did something happen to him?  Was he hit on the head?”
      Tears formed in her eyes.  “No, he was hit in the heart.”
       Molly glanced at me, nodding her head.  She understood what Luciana was saying.  I had gone through the questions many times in our life.  Was the job worth all the trouble, the killing, the shooting, the fear?  Before I could say anything, Molly said, “Let’s pray right now for Mateo…”

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
I landed hard, but with someone shooting at me I didn’t linger on the ground.  Dakota had already begun pulling Hoffner back behind some boulders and I followed as fast I could.  Another bullet hit the rock next to me as I dove behind it.  Malone had now committed a federal crime.  Glancing over at Dakota I saw that he was working to stop the bleeding.  Clyde was hit high on the shoulder.
       “He’ll be all right if I can get the bleeding to stop,” Dakota informed me.  “The bullet’s still in him and I’m not about to start cutting on him.  He needs a doctor.”
       Malone was somewhere in the rocks above us.  I was hoping he would stay where he was, but then again, where was he?  I peered out from behind the boulders and was greeted by another shot, nearly clipping my ear.  I couldn’t get a location on him except he was over there somewhere, and he had us pinned down good.
       “Malone!” I yelled.  “You’re under arrest.  I don’t want to have to kill you, so just throw your weapons down and come on out.”
       For that remark I received a laugh and a couple of quick shots fired my direction.  
       Dakota moved up by my side.  “Finally, got the bleeding to stop,” he said.  “Where is that hombre?”
       “Want to take a peek?” I said in jest.  
       He pointed toward some rocks across from us.  “I’m going to try to make it to those rocks.  See if you can spot him as I move.”
       “I’m not able to look around this boulder so you’re on your own.  When you move I’ll try to take a shot,” I paused.  “Yuh better be faster than that bullet.”
       For that remark I received a dirty look from Dakota.  “Ready?”  I tried again to peer around the boulder receiving a bullet for my action, but when the shot was fired Dakota took off.  Another shot missed him and he was safe behind the rocks.  Malone fired again.  He at least had two of us to practice on.
       I looked at the rocks around us.  There must be another way through since Clyde was camped somewhere around here.  He walked out from this location.  Glancing at him he seemed to be resting easy.  I went to him.  “Clyde, Clyde, where’s your camp?”  I figured if I could find his camp there may be a way to move to the right of Malone.
       He remained unconscious.  I moved back to the boulder where I was standing then began to move around the side.  There was another shot, I stared at Dakota.  Then another shot.  Neither had been fired at us.  We looked at each other, but neither of us moved.  After several minutes I chanced a look.  There was not a shot.  We still held our places thinking that perhaps he was moving trying to find another position…but the shots?
       Several minutes had transpired and I didn’t like the wait.  I finally decided that I would move out from my safety spot when I heard the sound of horses walking.  I gave Dakota a puzzled look.  
       “Senor Miles, you can come out now.  Theese man no longer wants to fight.”
       It was Mateo.  I had forgotten that he was going to follow me.  Stepping out I heaved a big sigh then gave him a wide grin.  He had Malone lying over the saddle all tied down.  I could see blood dripping from him to the ground.  “Dead?” I inquired.
       Mateo looked at him.  “Maybe soon.  He is only shot in the leg, but it is bleeding rather bad.”
       “My friend,” I said moving toward Mateo.  “You’re not my idea of an angel, but I’ll take whatever help the Lord sends.”
       This brought a grunt from him along with a large grin.  “Mi esposa, Luciana, may not agree with your assessment.”  We all chuckled with the thought of Mateo as an angel, then Dakota left to go check on Clyde.  Since he was shot in the shoulder I hoped he could ride as far as Thompson’s ranch, then someone could ride for the doctor.
       It took all three of us to get Clyde settled up in the saddle.  Dakota didn’t think he could hold the reins or onto the horn, so he mounted behind him.  We turned our horses and started out for the ranch house when…

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
Someone out at Thompson’s has to know about Hoffner,” I said, sipping my coffee.  Charlie Gold and Mateo had joined me for breakfast.  It was a rare occasion to get both the sheriff and his deputy together as they were traveling so much.  Charlie had worked it out so that one of them would be in town at all times since there currently was no town marshal.
       “Hoffner must know something about Malone and that wanted poster or he wouldn’t be hiding,” remarked Charlie.
       I looked over at Mateo and could tell he was pondering something.  “Somethin’ on your mind, Mateo?” I asked.  
       He gave a small shrug of one shoulder, then squinted his eyes, which caused him to scrunch up one side of his face.  “Senor Miles, I don’t want you to think bad of me…”  He paused.
       “Go on,” I urged, then began to pull on my moustache.
       “I know you to be a very good tracker, and a person very aware of his surroundings, yet you didn’t see this man following you last night.  He must be one sly fellow if you don’t see him.”  Mateo stopped speaking.
       “And your point, Mateo?” inquired Charlie.
       Mateo wiped his mouth then down to the goatee on his chin, cleaning it of the hot sauce that dripped from his eggs.  “I was thinking that since I was riding to Telluride that I might follow you out of town.  I’ll wait until I see this man, Malone, ride out after you then follow you.  Perhaps that will keep you from receiving a bullet in the back.”
       I looked over at Charlie who had a blank expression on his face.  “Well, I think it’s a wonderful idea.  Thank you Mateo for your consideration,” interrupted Molly.  I hadn’t noticed that she had approached our table.
       “Well, what are you waitin’ for?” I snapped.  “Get yourself on out of here, grab your horse and go hide somewhere at the edge of town.  I’ll belong in a little while, but if he doesn’t show within fifteen minutes or so, come on anyway.  He might already be out of town thinking that I might go back to Thompson’s.”
       Mateo drank down the rest of his coffee then got up to leave.  “Charlie, if you see this guy, arrest him.  I have half a dozen charges against him.”  I leaned over to give Molly a kiss, telling her that I would be gone for at least two days, maybe more.
       I already had Star saddled and he was standing outside the diner waiting for me.  A couple of hours later I rode into the yard of Thompson’ ranch.  I wanted to let him know I was there and would be talking with his hands again.  Cecil, even though a rough old character and often cantankerous, was always fair so I wanted to let him know I wasn’t taking his cowboys away from their work.   After speaking with him, he again referred me to his foreman, Bill Farmer.
       Finding Farmer was easier this time as he was down at the tack room.  “Howdy, Bill.  Mr. Thompson said I’d find you here.”
       “Miles, yur back again,” he said, reaching out his hand.  “Still looking for Clyde?”
       “Bill, I’m convinced one of your hands knows where Clyde might be.  There’s a chump of a bounty hunter by the name of Sly Malone looking for him.  He has a poster sayin’ that Clyde is wanted.”
       “I don’t believe it!” exclaimed Farmer.  “He’s a solid worker.  I can’t imagine him being wanted.”
       Nodding my head, I told him about the poster.  “It’s a bogus wanted poster.  I contacted the authorities and it was not issued by the state.  Seems like a family back in Illinois has it in for Clyde.  
       “Honest, Miles, I haven’t heard the boys talking about him except a word here and there that he’s missing,” Bill informed me.  “Listen, most of the boys are in the lower pasture.  Let me get my horse and we’ll ride out and you can question them,” he paused, then continued.  “If they do, I can’t guarantee they’ll talk.”
       “I hope they do.  This Malone is greedy and he’ll find Clyde sooner or later.”
       A few minutes later Farmer and I were riding out to find the cowboys.  We spoke to a couple as we arrived in the pasture.  It seemed that they were all working on mending fence and cleaning out the irrigation ditch.  I gave Farmer a questioning look.
       “I’ve found it easier that if I put them all on the same disgusting job they won’t be as offended,” he replied.
       I nodded, “Makes sense.”
       We had spoken to half a dozen of the men and were in the process of speaking with Dakota Norris.  I knew Norris, at least by sight.  He often came to town for supplies or if Cecil had an occasion to venture in.  I could tell from his gestures that he knew something about Clyde.  
       “Listen Dakota, we have to get this cleared up and now is the chance,” I implored him.  “I can assure you that the poster is bogus.”
       He looked around, before speaking.  “Marshal, I’ll take you to him.  Boss, would you mind not coming?  If Clyde sees a bunch coming with me, he might get spooked.”  He then said to me, “Marshal, I can’t guarantee anything.  I can just take you to where I last saw him.”
       We rode for about thirty minutes to the southwest.  The land was becoming rocky and more arid.  For a few minutes we moved through a field of large boulders and rock out-croppings.  I was surprised when Clyde stepped out to halt our travel.
       I was about to speak, when a shot rang out, the bullet hitting Clyde.  As he fell, Dakota and I sprung from our horses…

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
Betty screamed as the man burst through the door, firing his gun in the air.  I turned to draw, “Don’t touch that gun, Marshal, or I’ll put a hole through the preacher’s chest,” hollered a warning.  He had the advantage, so I waited for my chance.
       “Where’ Hoffner preacher?” voiced the man walking up to Rev. Chapman sticking the gun in his stomach.  
       “How dare you enter my home like that,” returned the preacher.  “You can just leave, I’d never tell you just for your discourteousness.  The truth of the matter is, I don’t know.”
       He struck the Reverend across the face, but I’ll hand it to Parson Chapman, he didn’t go down.  I thought I might maybe have a chance, but he turned his gun on my cocking the hammer.  Then smiled, moving the gun away from me for its deadly eye to stare at Betty.
       “Now, Preacher, where’ Hoffner?”
       The parson had guts that’s for sure.  He stepped over in front of his wife.  “I told you I don’t know.  I had the Marshal look into his disappearance and Clyde can’t be found.  Now leave this home!”
       The bounty hunter glared at the parson, studying his expressions.  Looking over at me, he pointed the gun my direction.  I looked back into his eyes.  He didn’t holster his gun, he just began backing away.  “You tell Hoffner that Sly Malone is looking for him.”  He reached to his pocket flinging a piece of paper toward the parson, then stepped on out the door.
       Rev. Chapman turned to take his wife in his arms.  She was halfway between being angry and sobbing.  Her head turned toward me, “Marshal aren’t you going after him?”
       I stood, then glanced toward the entry.  “Mrs. Chapman, I wouldn’t find him now, but I will see that he pays for breakin’ into your house,” I said, then turned my attention to the preacher.  “Can you tell me why your cousin is hiding?  Is there any truth to this charge?”
       Releasing his wife, he stooped to pick up the paper.  Unfolding it he found it was the same wanted poster that I was shown.  “Hmpf, I know the Swithart family.  They were vile, heathen people.  I tried to visit with them a couple of times.  The last time they sicced their dog upon me.  Hmpf, if anything they should have charges brought against them.”
       He guided Betty to sit down then he took his chair again.  These were good people.  I didn’t know Clyde Hoffner very well, only spoke to him a few times.  I would have to take their word for his character until I found out different.  “I’ll get a telegram out to the local authorities first thing in the mornin’,” I told them.  “The wanted poster isn’t one issued by the courts.  It seems to be a personal vendetta by the Switharts.”
       Rev. Chapman turned to look at his wife.  They looked at each other for a few seconds.  “What?” I asked.  “Do you know something?”
       “Marshal,” spoke up Betty.  “We do know that Clyde went to the Swithart home after the dog was turned loose on Dale, but he wouldn’t have done anything that severe.  Clyde told us that he spoke with Matthew, that’s the father, and then had words that ended up with Clyde giving him a beating.  Nothing more.  It was a week after that when we moved to Durango.  Clyde was with us, as you know, and there had been no fire before we left.”
       I nodded my head, then pulled on the end of my moustache.  “I believe the Thompson hands when they told me that they didn’t know about Clyde.  I’ll admit that I didn’t talk to them all.  I’ll go back out there to see if any others are around.  There may be one that Clyde confided in.”  I looked toward the entryway.  “I don’t think that Malone will bother you again,” I said trying to assure them.
       The next morning right after breakfast I sent a telegram back to the town in Illinois, then taking the little snack that Molly gave me I mounted Star and headed out toward Thompson’s ranch.  I’d been on the road for about an hour when I knew I was being followed.  It had to be Malone.  It was time for this nonsense to stop…