Oh, Marshal, I’m glad I caught you before you left,” came the voice of the exhausted minister. 

       He must have run from his house or at least the church to the diner, I thought.  He doesn’t normally get that much exercise unless he has one of those hellfire and brimstone messages which will get him wound up some.  “Sit down, Parson, what is so desperately important to get you runnin’?”

       That brought a chuckle for the group.  Molly had edged over to the table as she saw the preacher run in.  She was more thoughtful than I as she poured him a cup of coffee and placed it before him at the table.  He took a sip before he began, first thanking Molly.

       “You remember my cousin, Clyde Hoffner?” asked Chapman.

       “He’s the one who helped you and Betty move here, am I right?” questioned Doc before he scratched the side of his face.  

       “You’re right Doc, and for the past two years or so he’s been working out at Cecil Thompson’s ranch.”

       “So what seems to be the problem?” I asked, getting involved in the conversation.  

       He finished his coffee before answering.  “Nick Parsons rode by the church this morning.  I was in my office studying and praying for Sunday’s service.  He was very polite and apologized for interrupting me.”

       “Well, get on with it,” I urged him.

       “Let him talk, Miles,” scolded Molly.  “He’ll tell us at his own pace.”

       I glanced at her, then said, “Go on, Parson.”

       He nodded, then continued.  “Mr. Parsons told me that Mr. Thompson sent him to town to tell me.”

       He paused, while the rest of us looked back and forth at each other.  I wanted to say something for him to get to the point, but I remember the slight chiding I received from Molly, so I waited with the others.

       “Parsons said that Clyde hadn’t shown up for any meals for a week.  He said it wasn’t uncommon for a person to be out on the range for a few days, but rarely a week without Mr. Thompson knowing about it.  Something has happened to him,” he paused, then looked at me.  “Miles, would you mind checking into it?”

       The marshal has been dropped and the parson was making this a personal request.  I pulled on my moustache, then looked straight at the Reverend.  “Anything could have happened to your cousin.  His horse could have fallen on him, a cougar or bear, or even an renegade Indian.”

       “I know, Miles, that’s why I need to find him.

       “Preacher!” I kind of raised my voice without meaning to, “The Tompson ranch covers a lot of territory.  It would be like searchin’ for a needle in a haystack.”  I felt Molly touch my arm indicating that I should calm down.  “I’m not upset or angry, there’s no need to be, so I apologize for my outburst, but you can see the problem.”

       With a nod of his head he replied, “That’s why I’ve been praying, so it will be a beam instead of a needle you’ll be looking for.”  He paused again then said softly.  “Miles, if he’s dead I would like to give the body a decent burial.”

       “If he’s dead, the varmints have torn him apart,” I said with disgust.

       He dropped his head for a moment.  “There will be parts of him there.  Please, Miles.”

       I looked around at the others gathered there with their varied expressions of expectancy.  Then I felt a slight pinch.  I sighed, “I’ll go look for your cousin.  Parson, did you ever think he might have just rode off?”

       He shook his head.  “He would have stopped by to tell us.  No, he didn’t ride off–something happened.  He’s hurt, he’s sick, or. . . he’s hiding.”

       “Hiding!” Charlie spoke up for the first time.  “Why would he be hiding?”

       Preacher Chapman just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.  I put a hand on top of his shoulder.  “I’ll head out in the mornin’.  I’ll do my best,” I assured him.

       “I know you will Miles.  May we all pray together,” he said, then started praying.

       I didn’t bow my head or close my eyes.  I usually pray like Jesus told the disciples, ‘Watch and pray,’ and being a marshal that has helped me survive.  I saw that the man who Charlie talked with had left the diner.  That made me wonder…

Lucas and I were sitting in the dining car heading back to Durango.  He finished his job with Ring and Bellows and deposited the prisoners to the Warden at the State Penitentiary in Canon City along with the body of Martin Blue.  Ring explained to the Warden what happened and how Lucas had taken care of the situation.  From a distance I saw the Warden eyeing Lucas over, slapped him on the shoulder then shook his hand.  Now we were going back home, and he was very quiet–melancholy to say the least.

       “How’re you makin’ out?” I asked sincerely, watching him play with his chocolate pie with his fork.  

       He looked up at me.  “Senor Miles, does it get any better?”

       “You mean killin’ a man?  I would hope not, if it does it is time to quit,” I stated matter-of-factly, then took a sip of the coffee.  It certainly could be stronger.  Weak coffee and flaccid pie.  At least it was chocolate so I could work through it.

       “I really didn’t want to do it, but, but, I felt I had no choice,” he muttered, then forked up a piece of the pie.  Frowning, he said, “Certainly not Senora Molly’s pie.”

       I had to smile while I shook my head.  “From what you and Ring told me, you didn’t.  From all aspects you made the right decision–the hard decision, but the right decision.”  With that we both went to work on what was supposed to be chocolate pie.

       Finishing mine first, I wiped my mouth and moustache off with the linen napkin.  Perhaps the use of linen napkins was the reason for the coffee costing a dime, and the pie thirty cents.  Goodness, coffee and pie for the price of a meal at Molly’s.  There’s more than one way to rob a man.

       As Lucas was placing his last piece of pie in his mouth, I asked, “I have to know Lucas.  Why’d you haul off and hit me?”

       He swallowed, then took the last sip of coffee before answering.  “I was tired of you treating me as a kid.  I knew you were following me, checking up to see if I needed help, if I was all right.  Senor Miles, either I can do the job or I cannot, but leave me try!”

       I stared at him, he was right.  I decided to be honest with him.  “Lucas, you did notice that I didn’t help you.”  He gave a little shrug.  “I promised your aunt, Marta, to go.  I didn’t do it to protect you, but for her comfort.  She has been strugglin’ lately the past few months with Charlie being the sheriff, and now you workin’ as a deputy.”

       He gave a slight nod.  “No more though,” I said.  “You’ve proved yourself.  Oh, you still have a lot to learn, but yur on the way,” I paused, looking him straight in the eye.  “I won’t say more now, just don’t go off half-cocked thinkin’ you know it all.”

       Pushing the dish toward the middle of the table, he almost grinned as he said, “It will be hard to wait to get back to some of Senora’s pie.”

       I wanted another cup of coffee, but they didn’t give refills, you had to pay another dime.  Was it worth it, I pondered to myself.  It was coffee, but it wasn’t that good of coffee.  I wiped my moustache.  I could wait until we had a short stop along the way to grab a cup.  I put my money on the table, four-bits to include a tip, then got up and started for the passenger car.

       Looking down at Lucas as I passed him, he mouth was open.  “Yur a full-fledged deputy now.  Time to pay yur own way.”

       A frantic look appeared on his face as he began to search his pockets for some change.  His eyes glanced up at my face, pleading.  I slowly touched my chin where hours before he had struck me for treating him as a kid.  I smiled, reached for my little pouch and pulled out two quarters handing them to him.  “A man pays his own way…” I winked, smiled and walked away.

       Maybe I shouldn’t have done it, but I telegraphed Charlie from Pagosa Springs and he and Marta were there at the station to meet Lucas.  She fawned over him like a doting hen, and I guess that was all right.  I left home when I was about Charlie’s age never to see my mother again.  There are times to build memories for the youth before being fully thrust into the wickedness of the world.

       I walked on by, nodded at Marta and Charlie, then went on down to the diner where my treasure was waiting for me.  Surely the good Lord knew what He was doing when He brought Molly to me.  Our lives just sort of meshed together.  When I entered the diner, there were two customers.  Molly wasn’t to be seen, but on my table was an empty cup waiting to be filled, and a piece of apple pie.  I looked around one more time, then headed for the table.  

       Laying the shotgun on the table, I took off my jacket placing it on top of the Greener.  Before sitting down, I reached for the coffeepot on the stove then filled my cup.  I had just placed the cup on the table, when Molly rushed out from the kitchen.  I grabbed her and we held on tight to each other, ahh, could life be better?

As Lucas was coming back from the dining car for breakfast, he stopped before entering the baggage car.  Because of Martin Blue and the fact they had five prisoners they received permission to shackle them in the baggage car so as to not alarm passengers.  Lucas looked around, “is this that sixth sense that Senor Miles talked about?” he wondered before pushing open the door.  Just in case, he chambered a shell in his rifle.

       Upon entering the first thing that caught his immediate attention was the scuffle between Blue and the old guard, Ring Carter.  Somehow, Blue had gotten his shackles around Carter’s neck and they were struggling over the gun still in Carter’s holster.  The other guard, Jim Bellows was unconscious on the floor as was the worker in the car.  Just as Lucas entered, Blue succeeded in pulling Carter’s gun.

       “Wrong time to come back, Kid,” bellowed Blue, sticking the gun in Carter’s stomach.  “Now you come over here and get the key to these shackles.”

       Lucas smiled, and walked toward the two men.  As he was within arm’s length he thrust his rifle up against the neck of Blue surprising him.  “This is what we call a Border Standoff, no?  And I’m Mexican so I know such things.”

       Sweat was pouring off both Blue and Carter.  “Easy kid, I was looking forward to going back to my orchard,” Carter admonished.

       “Senor Carter, you know he is going to kill you no matter what, so why fight it;  but I promise you that I’ll blow his brains against the train walls should he pull the trigger.”

       “Hmpf, better than hanging at the pen,” snarled Blue.

       “Si, dead is dead.  The Judgment awaits all,” said Lucas, then he whispered.  “Are you ready for the Judgment?”

       “Kid you’ve got a life ahead of you, I don’t want to kill you,” stated Blue, concern evident in his eyes.

       “Nor I you, but if that is the way the steps of the Lord has led me, so be it.  Adios.”  Lucas pulled the trigger on the rifle.  The bullet entered the head of Martin Blue, jerking him back and away from Carter.  He fell and the gun dropped out of his hand as well.

       “Son, grab hold of me!” exclaimed Carter, his knees weak from the turn of events.  Lucas reached out his arms to grasp the older man and sat him down against the walls of the car.  “Don’t you ever do anything like that again, yuh hear!”

       Nodding, Lucas left the rifle with the guard, then went to check on the worker and the other guard.  Both were unconscious, and most likely would have concussions.

       “What is goin’ on here?” I hollered as I burst through the door.

       “Ah, Senor Marshal, you and I have to have us a talk, but first I need…”  he didn’t finish, just burst toward the door behind me.  

       I looked around me hearing Lucas retching outside the door.  I went over to Ring who was still pale from the ordeal.  “Ring, what happened?”

       “Blue got the best of Jim and me when Lucas happened to walk in.  He took charge then blasted a hole through Blue’s head.  If’n he overcomes this he’ll make a good lawman.  I’d ride with him anyday.”

       Lucas didn’t return, so I got the information from the other prisoners as to what transpired.  From what I heard it took a pound of guts for Lucas to carry out and save Carter.  Martin Blue was known to be a violent desperado. not caring who he hurt along the way.

       I thought I’d best go look for him.  Upon leaving the baggage car, he wasn’t standing between the two cars.  “Up here,” he yelled down to me.  He was sitting on the edge of the car.  “I thought the wind blowing against me might freshen me up some,” he said, shaking his head.  “I can’t shake away what I just did.”

       He started to get down.  When he was standing next to me I muttered, “Time and the Lord, Lucas.  Time and the Lord.”

       Looking up at me, he gave a wry smile.  I put my hands on his shoulders, when out of nowhere he swung, his fist catching me on the jaw.  It really didn’t hurt, but I was stunned and startled.  “What was that …