Not much else was said, so I dozed most of the way to Silverton only waking up at the water stations.  The sky was clear and blue as can be.  Soon the aspen leaves will be turning to gold.  Maybe I’ll bring Molly on a trip to see them, or even better yet we could ride up the canyon for a ways, camp out, and just enjoy being alone for a change.  I know she faces people every day, and I do as well on my job.  It’ll be a plan, I decided.

       Charlie went straight to the marshal’s office to see if anything was happening.  He really didn’t think so since Shy was recuperating, but he thought he better check the jail anyway.  We really didn’t know where Shy was.  In fact, I didn’t know if Silverton had another doctor since Webb had died.  This was a rough and tumble town and it needed a decent doctor, two really.  I told him we’d meet at Flo’s Cafe after I checked us in at the hotel.

       I stopped by the Wells Fargo office as was my habit.  I worked through that office a few years back and got to know the clerks fairly well.  Morgan Appleby was still there but Dick Fletcher had been transferred to Leadville and the newer clerk, Troy Linton up and quit.  He left for parts unknown.  Tom Shuman and John Collins were the new clerks and Morgan introduced them to me.  

       Morgan poured a cup of coffee for me without me even asking and smiled when he handed it to me.  We made some small talk, then he asked why I was up in Silverton.  I told him I traveled up with the Sheriff regarding the recent demise of Asa Stokes, the town marshal.  I was informed that the vet over at the stables worked on Shy.  Morgan thought that he was shot in the hip breaking the tip of the bone, and also below the ribcage.  As far as he knew Shy was still in bed.  He was in bed over at the late Dr. Webb’s house.  The vet, Terrel Davenport, secured the help of Mrs. Yardley and one of the girls from the a saloon on Blair Street.  She was not one of the working girls, just worked in the saloon for the atmosphere her lovely face provided.

       “From what I hear,” Morgan began to inform me, “it’s been pretty rowdy up there.  Several fights and shootings, and we have no one to corral them.  I hope Sheriff Gold stays around for a while.”

       I thanked him for the coffee, then shook hands with Shuman and Collins and departed for the hotel.  There was one room left so I booked it.  I didn’t know the plans.  Charlie might decide to stay at the jail.  I remember the many nights I slept down at the Wells Fargo office.  I didn’t know what time Charlie would make it down to Flo’s, the office was only a half a block up the street.

       When I stepped in the eatery was about half full.  Miners ate at various times during the day, and several residents of the town would make their appearance at Flo’s as the place was known to serve good food.  I waited for several seconds, looking the room over and letting my eyes adjust.  It probably wasn’t as necessary as it would be if I entered a saloon, but in my trade a person can’t be too careful.  

       A waitress saw me standing there and came over.  “May I help you, sir?” she inquired.

       I saw her take a lingering look at the shotgun I was holding.  It was a required companion almost everywhere I traveled and especially here in Silverton.  I pointed, “Is that table available?”  It was back in the corner.  She led the way and then went for a menu.  I told her to bring two as I was expecting company.  Taking off my hat, I looked carefully around the room to see if I recognized anyone from my past that I knew, or maybe even from a wanted poster I had seen.

       My eyes stopped briefly on one man, then continued to rove, but came back to the man.  Some place in the back of my mind I seemed to recall seeing that person.  As I sipped my coffee I would take a glance now and again at the person.  I didn’t want to appear that I was staring at him.  As I started on my second cup, I thought of what Morgan said about hoping that Charlie stayed around for a while.  After what he told me on the train that might not be so good, but then again, he couldn’t let the riff-raff take over the town.  That had happened all too often in Silverton.  I had seen the same thing in Tincup.       

       It seemed like Charlie was taking quite a spell to arrive.  I know we had eaten on the way up on the train, but that was now several hours ago.  The waitress came by to top my cup several times and I would shrug my shoulders and tell her that I’m still waiting.  Finally Charlie came in the door and when he did I saw the man I had noticed earlier stiffen.  Charlie didn’t notice and came right over to where I was sitting.

       He seemed a little downcast.  “Miles, I’m going to stay over.  I hate to do this to you, but would you try explaining to Marta the situation?”

       I was looking past him, not paying any attention but closely watching the man.

       Then chaos broke out, the man jumped to his feet, turned, drawing his pistol.  I dropped the Greener and fell to the table, made a loud clatter, and drew my pistol firing under the table.  Then I brought my gun up, I fired again my bullet knocking the man back against his table.  

       After the shots, the room became deathly quiet.  Charlie’s eyes were wide, but he stood up with a gun in hand and went to the table.  The two men with the man I shot had their hands in the air.  I thanked the Lord that the man’s first bullet was fired too quickly and hit the floor under Charlie’s chair.  My first one caught him in the lower leg, and the second one took away his life.

       I stayed at the table while Charlie talked to the other two men.  He emptied the pockets of the dead man and when he was satisfied he came back to me.  He threw a few coins of gold and a jack knife on the table.  “Miles,” he sighed, “I’m so glad you didn’t fire that Greener over my shoulder.  I think my heart would have given out.”

       “Who was he?” I asked.  “He was ready to shoot you in the back.”

       “Feller there said that he went by Shawley,” he replied.  Then turned back to look at the man as his two companions were carrying him out.  “Hold it!” he yelled.

I looked at Charlie, but he didn’t continue, he got up and walked outside the door.  I didn’t want to push him for information, so figured I’d wait ’til the first water station and pull out something that Molly had packed for us to eat, then maybe prod him a little.

       He seemed to have quite a bit on his mind.  I realized there was the situation in Silverton, but now he mentioned Marta.  Could there be trouble because of Lucas?  If so, that was my fault.

       It was perhaps twenty minutes before he came back in the car.  I didn’t blame him for wanting to ride out in the fresh air and survey the river and the canyon that we were passing through.  He came and sat down and I asked, “Do you think Williams can handle the job?”

       He shrugged his shoulders, “Shy is a good man, but I have no idea how bad he is wounded.  You know how it is after being shot at; a person gets sorta gun-shy,” he shrugged again.  “I’ll just have to wait until I talk to him.  You know the game, I have no say in town matters.”

       “Yeah, but you can give advice and make suggestions,” I remarked.

       A sigh came from him, but no reply.

       “Mateo seems to be doin’ a good job.  His leg don’t seem to hold him back from doin’ his job,” I stated, then heard the blast of the whistle notifying that the first water station was coming up.  The train lurched as it began to slow to a stop.

       I reached in the burlap bag to pull out a couple of apricot hand pies that had been placed in there.  I continued to search and smiled as I saw two pork steak sandwiches which I imagine Molly had loaded with mustard.  I’d keep them until we reached the halfway point.

       “He’s doing great,” Charlie said in response to my question about Mateo.  “But,” he hesitated, “Luciana doesn’t like it when he’s gone so long.”  Then he took a bite of the pie and stared out the window.

       It had helped Charlie to have Mateo as his deputy.  They would each make rounds going in different directions.  If Mateo was in Silverton, Charlie would most likely be over near Telluride.  They would meet in Durango, compare notes, then head out again.  They had a good system and it was working.  Of course, there were always unusual situations like Mateo having to spend two weeks in Telluride, and now Charlie going up to Silverton.  A lawman can’t always depend upon a strict schedule, the outlaws and scum out there won’t allow it.

       Charlie finished his pie and was wiping the crumbs off his moustache.  I plopped the last piece of mine in my mouth and mumbled, “I’m goin’ to find us some coffee.”  I got up and ambled up toward the more refined cars.  I glanced where the stove used to be; where they used to keep a pot of coffee going.  If they wouldn’t allow me a couple of cups from the fancy cars I’d go back to the caboose.  The brakemen would surely share.

       They were generous up front and gave me two cups filled with hot coffee and I didn’t have to pay.  I took a big gulp and it burned all the way down to my stomach, then with the rocking of the train, I spilt half of Charlie’s on my hand.  There were plenty of sneers and hard looks and pleading eyes given to me as I walked through the car holding two cups of coffee.  Folks must have thought we were someone special.

       I handed him the cup, now only half full and received a questioning look until he saw that my hand was somewhat red and wet with coffee, then he laughed.  “At least yuh saved me two swallows,” he snorted, then drank it,  swirling the last in his mouth to clean the crumbs out.

       After finishing his coffee he held the cup in both hands, looking at the dregs, “Marta wants me to quit.”

       “Why?” I asked, knowing what was probably the reason.

       He shrugged with one shoulder, “Too dangerous and that I was gone too much.”

       “Lucas?”

       Shrugging again, “Maybe some, he’s just added to her list of complaints.”

       “If you quit, what’ll you do?” I inquired.  

       “Vexler is always needing help down at the livery.  Maybe he could teach me to blacksmith.  Or I could work for Bert Crenshaw,” he said looking up at me.  “I always wanted to be a good carpenter.”

       Putting my cup on the floor, I then pulled at my moustache pondering what Charlie had told me.  “Charlie, you’re a lawman, and a good one,” I paused for several seconds.  “Durango, the west, we need good men to uphold justice.  Men to counter the lawless and low-lifes out there.”

       Then he pulled the final straw.  “Marta’s also going to have a baby.”

       My eyes widened, then I started nodding my head in understanding.  “What are you goin’ to do?”

       The shrug came again.  If it had been Lucas doing that I would have given him a little thump.  He looked over at me with a wry smile, “First, I’m going to take care of the situation in Silverton.

Charlie went over to talk with Marta so I, being a curious fellow, picked up the telegram.  “Phillips dead — STOP — Shy wounded.  Come quickly.”  It was without a signature which I didn’t like.  Phillips was a good man.  I decided right then that I was going with the Sheriff.

       I read the telegram once more then happened to see out the window Mateo riding down the street.  He had been in Telluride investigating some claim jumpers for a couple of weeks now.  I rushed out before he could get out of hearing as I knew he always went to see Luciana and the boys before he did anything else when he arrived in town.  After I hollered I waved to get his attention.  He reined his horse over to where I was standing.

       “Get down and come in.  Charlie will need to talk with you,” I stated, waiting for him to dismount.

       There was a puzzled look on his face as he approached me still with a slight limp.  “I need to let Charlie tell you about it,” I said, opening the door for us to enter.

       Charlie, Marta, and Molly were all over by the table.  Charlie had just picked up his hat when I blurted out, “Look who just arrived.”

       A smile appeared on Charlie’s face as we approached the table.  Quickly Molly went to the counter to get a cup so Mateo could have some coffee.  I went to where I normally sat picking my hat from the hook on the counter and grabbing the Greener.  Molly made eye contact with me then turned to head for the kitchen.

       “I’m sure glad you’re back,” declared Charlie.  “Phillips was just killed earlier today up in Silverton, the deputy wounded so I’ve got to hot-foot it up there.”

       Mateo graciously accepted the coffee and after taking a sip at the hot brew.  He licked his lips briefly then asked, “You want me to go up there?”

       Charlie shook his head.  “No, you’ve been out of town for quite a spell.  If I sent you up to Silverton now I’d never hear the end of it from your Missus.  You go see her and then take care of the town.  Miles will…”

       “No, Miles won’t,” I stated.  “I’m goin’ with you Charlie.  I knew both those men and you might need some help.”

       He didn’t argue.  I’m glad Mateo was back or Charlie would have put up a fuss at me going and rightly so.  Molly was back with a sack full of food.  I looked down at Lucas who had been sitting there listening.  I was impressed, he showed some maturity not to butt in on the conversation.

       “Lucas, here, can fill you in on what’s been happenin’ since you’ve been out of town,” I informed him, then thought of something.  “Lucas, run up to the depot and find out when the next train leaves.  If one’s on the track hold it up until Charlie and I get there.

       He promptly took off and I saw the look of surprise on Mateo’s face.  “The kid, he’s wearing a badge,” he queried.  “I guess I did miss out on a few things.”  He looked at the door, then remembered the cup in his hand.  After taking a long guzzle and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he placed the cup on the table.  “He’s not taking my job, is he?”

       That brought a chuckle from both of us.  “I’ll just let Lucas tell you.  He’ll enjoy it.”

       I reached to clasp onto Molly, drawing her to me for an embrace.  “I need to go get my jacket.  If Lucas comes back, tell him where I’m at.  After leaving the house I’ll head on toward the station.”

       “Be careful, Miles,” she softly said.

       “Always.”  Which brought a snorting sound from my dear wife.

       Thirty minutes later I met Charlie; we were fortunate that we wouldn’t have to wait long as the train was pulling out in another thirty minutes.  He seemed sort of down, and me being the kind of person I am asked him straight out what was wrong.

       “I just can’t seem to keep it all together.  There are too many camps, too many crimes, I can’t get to them all.  Mateo is a great help, but even with his help…” he sighed and I waited.  “I was hoping to finally have a good marshal up in Silverton.”

       It was too big an area for a sheriff and one deputy.  There were probably close to a hundred mining camps, maybe more in the region, plust the fact that Durango currently didn’t have a marshal.  The town fathers squabbled too much to agree.   I watched him as we boarded and sat down.  There was room for us to each have a seat to ourselves which was nice.  I’d wait awhile to open the lunch that Molly packed.

       Charlie didn’t say anything, he was lost in thought.  I didn’t think it my place to ask; I knew he’d tell me when the right time came.  I leaned back to shut my eyes for a few minutes as the train chugged up the mountain.  It was normally about a four hour trip, that is, without any problems.

       I had just gotten comfortable and was dozing off when Charlie remarked, “Marta…”

       “So Phillips is going a good job up in Silverton,” I questioned Charlie between sips of coffee.

       Charlie had been up to Silverton as there had been some trouble.  Bob Phillips was marshal of Silverton, he had no outside jurisdiction of the smaller communities in the area or the large mines that were outside Silverton.  That put the job to the sheriff–Charlie Gold.  He had a large and rough area to oversee; from Silverton down to Durango and then over to Telluride.  Most of the time he didn’t have to worry about Durango, but currently the town had no marshal.  I helped him out some, but was hesitant to take on the duties of town marshal even if it were offered me, which I doubted it would be.

       “I will give Bob credit though,” Charlie related.  “If a crime took place in Silverton and the man left the town, Bob would go after him.  He felt that because the crime took place in his jurisdiction he still had the right to chase down the culprit.

       “Sounds like a good man to have on the job,” I replied, trying to remember what I knew about Bob Phillips.

       Customers had started leaving so Molly came over to sit for a few minutes.  “What are you men talking about?” she inquired purposely saying men to include Lucas.

       “The Sheriff here was tellin’ me how good a job the marshal in Silverton is doin’,” I informed her, then looked at Charlie.  “Who’s his deputy again?”

       “Shy Williams,” he responded with a smile.  “One thing he’s not shy about is pulling a gun if needed.  That’s what worries me about Phillips.  He refused to carry one.  Oh, he’ll take a shotgun with him if needed, but feels if he has one on his hip he’s a target from any want-t’-be gunman.”

       I caught Molly looking over at Lucas.  My what a difference a couple of years could make.  What a difference some hard experiences could make.  He used to cut wood for the diner and for others around town.  He still takes care of my horses, but he is very conscientious about his duties at the jail.

       “You’re probably glad your uncle’s home, aren’t you Lucas?” inquired Molly.  “I’m sure Marta is.”

       “Si, I guess so,” he replied in sort of a sour manner.

       Molly glanced at me, but I decided to let his comment ride.  “Was the pie good today?” she again inquired of Lucas.

       A large grin appeared on his face.  “Senora Forrest, when is your pie not good?”  That brought a giggle and smile from Molly.  She was used to me complimenting her on her cooking and especially her pies, but it was especially nice coming from Lucas.

       His face turned serious and he asked me a pertinent, but hard question.  “Senor Miles, why are there so many evil men in the world?”

       Molly’s eyebrows arched, and I glanced at Charlie.  “You remember the Garden, when Adam and Eve sinned against God, and then a while later Cain killed his brother Abel?”  He nodded his head.

       “Well, in the course of time, I think that men, instead of turnin’ back to their Creator, began to see how bad they could be.  They purposely, at times, seem to want to outdo the other in regard to meanness and evil.”

       He acted as if he understood, until his next question.  “But why?”

       Now, “why?” is an important question, but at times it can become very annoying.  Why this?  Why that?  Why not?  and on it can go.  Lucas wasn’t doing that, and I didn’t take it that way, but I sorta squelched beneath his question.

       “Lucas, the ol’ devil, wants to destroy any good on this earth.  Evil is his means of doin’ so,” I informed him.  

       I was waiting for his next question when Jimmy Hopkins rushed through the doorway hollering, “Sheriff Gold, Sheriff Gold!”

       Charlie waved and Jimmy ran over to him with a telegram.  While Charlie was opening it I tossed the kid a short bit to which I was rewarded with a face full of excitement.  He ran off holding up the dime.

       He dropped the telegram on the table.  “I need to run back to Silverton.  It seems…