The tracks were open to Silverton and I found out from Charlie Gold that his new deputy, Mateo Ramirez, was heading up to get a feel of the place.  He was waiting on the platform when I approached.
    “Mind some company?” I asked slapping him on the shoulder.
    “Not at all,” came his reply.  “Come on, let’s board.”
    We moved down the aisle to find a place to sit down.  From outside the voice of the conductor could be heard giving the last warning to board.  I could see him standing on the steps of the train ready to wave to the engineer to let her roll when a man come running to catch the train; it was Parson Chapman.
    He jumped on board and the train lurched to begin its journey up the canyon.  He was panting as he entered the passenger car where Mateo and I were sitting.  I had never seen him quite so unkempt.  He began to tuck in his shirt, straightened his tie and jacket, and took his hat off to dust it and then place it straight on his head.
    Walking to where we were sitting he smiled reaching out to shake Mateo’s hand first, then mine.  “Heard you fellows were headed up to Silverton and thought I’d join you,” he said as he sat down in an adjoining seat.  “Join me in a prayer:  Heavenly Father, keep Your hand upon us.  Make this trip profitable for Your servants.  Amen.”
    It was a treat to have the preacher pray as we began.  My mind flittered through the times I had ventured out with only my prayers.  Always nice to have company in one’s prayers.  I’m not sure if Mateo knew what was happening, but he bowed his head then made the sign of the cross after the parson said “Amen.”  
    Mateo began to chuckle.  “The Sheriff, he does not miss a trick.  Sends one compadre to guard my body, and then the padre to guard my soul.”
    I laughed with him.  “Not exactly true, Mateo.  I did hear that you were going up to Silverton and thought I’d ride with you.  I can introduce you to the town and some of the inhabitants.  Last time I was there Asa Stokes was the marshal,” I then pulled on my moustache, “but Silverton has been known to have marshals change every few months or so.”
    “And you Rev. Chapman?  What is your excuse?”
    “Molly told me that Miles was going to Silverton.  I like his company, plus I have some unfinished business there,” he replied then focused on Mateo, “and perhaps some new business along the way.”
    Much of the snow had melted in Durango, but it was not far up into the canyon that all one could see was snow.  There was ice on the edge of the river, but it was flowing.  The mountains glistened with snow when the sun fell upon them, but most of the time we were in the shadows of the cliffs.
    “Preacher, where’s your coat?” I inquired.  “It’s goin’ to be cold in Silverton.”
    His eyes widened, almost in a panic, he blurted, “I didn’t even think of one.”
    “You know the train isn’t returning until tomorrow?  Only one trip every other day through the winter unless the mines have a big shipment,” I informed him.  
    He sighed.  “Guess I’ll just have to walk fast,” he put his hand on his upper lip then began to push his lips together from the sides.  “I didn’t know I would have to spend the night.”
    “Don’t be a-frettin’, Parson.  Things will work out.  You can stay the night in my room, and I’ll treat you to supper and breakfast.”
    “Not so fast, my friend,” spoke up Mateo.  “I will get the breakfast, por favor.”
    It was a nice trip, seemingly short as we talked about family, friends, and Preacher Chapman couldn’t help expounding on the goodness of the Lord and gave Mateo a short salvation sermon to which Mateo replied, “I will think on this.”
    The temperature was at least twenty degrees cooler than it had been in Durango.  I sent Mateo off to get our rooms squared while I took the Parson to buy a coat.  He gave me a sheepish look, then told me that he didn’t have the money for a coat.
    “It’ll do me good to help out the man of faith.  The coat is my gift to you,” I stated then got to the point.  “You’re here to see Frank Black.”
    “Yes, I want to check on him.  I want to pray over his soul, but also encourage him to let his wife know that he is alive.  He doesn’t need to be in hiding, but needs to come forth with the truth,” responded Rev. Chapman.
    “I’ll let you go on your way.  Be at the hotel dining room at 6:00,” I said, then headed back to meet with Mateo at the hotel.
    When I got there he was standing outside.  “What’s wrong?” I asked.
    There was a flash of anger on his face.  “Clerk inside said that Mexicans cannot stay here.”
    Now there are certain things that jerk my jaws and that’s one of them.  I brushed past Mateo before he could stop me striding up to the desk clerk.  I slammed the Greener down on the counter to get his attention.  “What’s this I hear about you not giving a room to an officer of the law?”
    “I don’t know what you mean, Sir,” came the meek reply from a man about the thickness of a toothpick.
    “The deputy sheriff came in for our rooms and he was told he couldn’t stay here!  I want an answer!”
    He squirmed and stuttered, “Uh, uh, that’s our policy.”
    “Your policy just changed as of tonight!  Why you’ve got Polish, Welsh, Italians, and the lot working in these mines, along with plenty of Mexicans!” I barked.  
    “I just can’t go and change the policy,” he stammered.
    “You didn’t!” I exclaimed.  “Tell them Deputy U.S. Marshal, Miles Forrest changed the policy.  Now give us two rooms!  Put one of them under the name of Deputy Sheriff Mateo Ramirez.”
    We got the key then took our bags to our rooms.  After they were deposited, I told Mateo that I wanted to take him to the Wells Fargo office then we’d look for the marshal.  I had told him some of the times I had been in Silverton on the train up here and as I stepped out on the boardwalk from up the street came…

I can’t send these!” exclaimed Stanley Offut, “Why Marshal Queens would have a fit.”
    I stared at him with a puzzled look on my face.  “What’s gotten into you Stan?  You will send those telegrams as they are official U.S. Marshal business.  I’ll wait to make sure you do, and if I hear any discrepancies or if you don’t decide to send it I will have your job.”
    The telegrams were to Jens Blasco, U.S. Marshal–Colorado, Barnes McCoy, U.S. Marshal–Kansas, and Felix Wilcox, U.S. Marshal–New Mexico/Arizona Territory, inquiring about Mike Queens.  There was something about him I just didn’t like, but then I reckon he didn’t care much for me either.
    “I want an answer as soon as they come in, do you understand?” I said with my eyes boring into him.  I had known Stanley Offut for several years.  I just couldn’t figure out what had come over him lately.  
    Stepping out of the telegraph office I looked up and down the street.  Charlie Gold and I had talked about heading up to Telluride, but that idea was put to rest by another eight inches of snow.  I didn’t want to get stuck in Telluride for a week or even worse somewhere along the trail.  Maybe I was getting soft or too old.  I’d like to say it was because I had more sense than I used to have.
    Solly was standing in his shop, looking out the window smoking one of his big cigars.  I waved to him, and he motioned for me to come in.  His tobacco store was next to the telegraph office so I went on in to see what he wanted.
    “Miles, have a cigar on the house,” he said with a smile knowing that I didn’t smoke.  It was kind of a joke with him, and I know it wasn’t to malign my beliefs.
    “Not today, Solly, but I have been sorta hankerin’ for a chaw,” I smarted back at him bringing a hearty laugh.
    Still laughing, “Yeah, cut a piece from a twist I have here.  Chew it up real good, then go give Molly a kiss.  Ha, ha, I can just imagine.”
    “Imagine all yuh want, ain’t gonna happen.  What did yuh want to see me about?” I asked.
    He scratched his head, then took a puff and exhaling before answering.  “I don’t see Sheriff Gold very often, and I know it doesn’t pertain to you, but the new marshal doesn’t take his, let’s say, routine duties very seriously.  If it’s cold or snowing he won’t check the town at night.  I seldom see him walking the town.”
    I gave a slight shrug of my shoulders, “Solly, nothing I can do about it.  Unless complaints are brought to the council there is little to do about it,” I replied, then pulled at my moustache.  “I wonder why he wanted the job in the first place.”
    “Easy money, prestige, power,” he stated.  “Miles, you know there’s a dozen reasons.”
    “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll keep my eyes open,” I assured him just before stepping out into the cold again.
    Glancing down the street, I saw Doc Jones heading for the diner so I started for him.  He was already at the table when I came in the door.  A couple of out-of-work miners were sitting at a table and if I had to make a guess, Molly was feeding them for at least half price.
    I leaned the Greener and back against the wall, grabbed a cup from the shelf and filled it with coffee from the pot on the stove.  The heat being produced by that stove sure felt good.  Since it had stopped snowing the temperature had dropped rapidly.
    “Hello, Miles,” greeted Doc.  He twisted his head a couple of times and I thought I could hear bones popping.  “I’ll be glad when spring decides to hit the mountains.  These old bones just don’t cotton to the cold like they used to.”
    “Ha, I was just thinkin’ the same thing a few minutes ago,” I replied, taking my chair.
    I had just sat myself down when Molly came out with a couple pieces of pie, sitting a piece in front of us.  “Heard you guys come in, so I thought that you might like a piece.”
    “Sit down, Molly,” suggested Doc.
    She pulled out a chair.  “Only for a minute, Doc.  Charlie dropped by saying that Marta was sick and wouldn’t be in today, so I’ve been helping Emelda in the kitchen.  She’s making up a bunch of enchiladas for lunch.”
    Doc scratched the side of his head just above the ear.  “Say,” he started in, “have either of you seen Lucas lately?  My woodshed is getting low and he usually is on the spot with keeping it filled.”
    Molly and I looked at each other.  “Come to think of it, Doc.  Our woodpile is low.  If he doesn’t come in today or tomorrow I’ll have to get someone to chop some more,” replied Molly, looking at me.
    Several merchants and other businesses had hired Lucas to keep their woodpiles filled.  He had always been dependable.  I hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t working or feeding the horses.  I’d check on them after leaving here.  “Charlie say anything about Lucas being sick?”
    Molly shook her head then turned her attention to Doc.
    “No sickness that I’ve heard about,” he said in reply to her glance.  “Oh, that reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask.  What did Mateo say when you asked why he quit the deputy’s position?
    “He really didn’t have much to say.  Not really evasive, but not wantin’ to talk much about it.  He did mention that Charlie was goin’ to make him sheriff’s deputy.  That might be a better position for him, plus a little more money.”
    Doc held up his cup for a refill.  “I know that Edith has been meeting with the preacher’s wife and a couple of other ladies to especially pray for you men.  She said they even pray for Marshal Queens.”
    “Well, we all need it Doc, that’s for sure,” I remarked emptying the last swallow from my cup.  “I’m goin’ out to check on a few things.  I’ll find out about Lucas.”  I started to leave, but stopped to look at Molly.  “Save me a couple of those enchiladas.”
    I nodded at the two men sitting at the table.  One lifted a hand in acknowledgment, then I went out the door into the cold…

Charlie, Marta, and Molly were sitting with me, and we had a new guest, Darnelle.  She seldom ventured into the diner, usually eating at home with her aunt and uncle, Elizabeth and Wilson Foster.  Since his stroke, she has been working through lunch at the store.
    “Darnelle, we don’t see you down here very often; it’s a pleasure,” said Molly.  “Hope you can stomach that coffee that Miles makes.  I’ll get you some cream if you need it.”
    I looked at her, then asked, “Did you come for a reason?”
    She sighed, “Not really, I just needed to get away from the store.  Uncle kept the books, orders and inventory, and I didn’t realize how much work there was in doing that.  So thankful for Mrs. Blackstone, she is a blessing,” replied Darnelle.
    Sometimes I don’t know when I’m good off, and when to keep my mouth shut.  “Darnelle, how old are you?” and I should have stopped for I received the look from Molly, but I didn’t heed it and continued, “Twenty?  I just don’t see why someone as pretty as you ain’t married.”  For that I received an elbow in my ribs.
    Looking down at her coffee then over to me, then at Molly, the responded, “The man I want is taken.”
    When she said that, Charlie sputtered in his coffee spilling some of it in his lap.  I glanced at Molly who just winked at Darnelle.  I was lost, what was going on?  “Will someone tell me the great secret?”
    “Oh, Miles, just be quiet.  You’ve already said enough,” commanded Molly giggling.
    I looked at all four of them.  They all were trying to keep from laughing.
    “Well, Darnelle,” chirped Molly, “you are welcome anytime.”
    Placing my cup on the table, I looked up to see a crew of men come through the door.  “Well, I’ll be,” muttered Charlie.
    It was Clyde Hoffner, Reese Donovan, Thompson’s cook, a rider I didn’t recognize, and Conrad Keim.  It was the first time I’d seen him since Shaw shot him.
    “Why the scowl, Miles?” inquired Molly upon seeing it form on my forehead.
    Rubbing my chin a few times.  “I’m just reminded that I haven’t apprehended Shaw.  He’s still loose when he should be in jail.  When the weather turns, that’s one of my first jobs–find Shaw,” then I looked over to Charlie, “and the ones who have the bounty on Charlie’s head.”
    Marta had already gotten up to take the men’s order.  I took one more final swallow, then stood.  Walking over to the table I nodded at the men.  “Glad to see you’re up and around,” I sincerely stated, then remembered, “Langston find him?”
    “Thanks, Marshal, I’m doing all right.  Haven’t heard from Langston since he left.  He’s either following Shaw, or Shaw maybe killed him,” responded Keim.
    After that I nodded to Hoffner who was preacher Chapman’s cousin, then inquired of Donovan.  “Reese, what in the world are you doin’ in town?  I haven’t seen you, oh, in at least a year,” then nodded at the newcomer.
    “Boss doesn’t trust any of the rowdies his has working for him to get supplies for the kitchen.  Oh, they’re all right with meat, but they don’t know nutmeg from chili powder, plus,” he said, a big smile forming on his face, “it’s been a year since I had a piece of Miss Molly’s pie.”
    I gave a little grunt, then spoke to Donovan, but I looked at the new man.  “New rider?”
    “Oh sorry, Marshal, this here is Nevada Bill.  Claim’s he’s a real buckaroo,” laughed Donovan.  “Bill, this here is a bull of the woods that you want to be wary of.  Stay on his good side.”
    “Ha,” came a laugh behind me.  I hadn’t noticed Molly coming up behind me.  “More like a cuddly bear cub,” she continued bringing a laugh from Donovan and a smile from Hoffner.  Nevada Bill just stared at her–a stare that I didn’t like.
    I remembered my manners, “Bill, this is my wife, Molly Forrest.”  She reached out her hand to shake his, but he just continued to stare.
    Since he didn’t take it, for which I was glad, I did and giving a final nod to the men, I walked her back to the table.  After getting Molly seated, I poured coffee for us.  “That was rude,” she remarked.  I looked at her, then over at the table with the men.  I’m glad Nevada Bill’s back was to me.
    “Who’s the man facing me?” asked Darnelle.
    “Oh, that’s the parson’s cousin.  He helped the preacher move to Durango, then took a job riding for Thompson,” I remarked.  “Don’t know him well, but he seems nice enough guy.  If’n he’s anything like the Parson, he’d be a good man.”
    Darnelle smiled, then remarked to Molly, “Thank you…I enjoyed myself, but I must get back to Mrs. Blackstone.”  Charlie was there and helped her with her chair.  She put on her coat then walked on past the men and out the door.
    There was some kind of comment made by Nevada Bill, I couldn’t hear it, but Hoffner was angered by it.  He said something back to Bill who made a move with his arm.  Quick-like Keim grabbed his arm…

Well, Marshal Forrest,” came the cry from across the store.  “I was wondering if you would ever come in here again.”  Darnelle started for me, and after giving me a hug, she continued.  “I hear that you’re going to be city marshal on a permanent basis.”
    I laughed a little, “So that’s what you hear?  What else do you hear?”
    She gave a wry smile before answering, “I know that Stanley Offut wants you, and so does Mr. Parker,” then with a giggle she added, “and we all know that Mr. Newsome, bless his soul, will vote with the majority.”
    “I stopped by to see how Wilson was doin’.  What does he think about all this, or has he been able to say anything?”
    The smile fell from her face.  “Uncle is doing some better.  He can shuffle around the room if he has something to hold onto.  He did manage to mumble out some sounds, ‘Not Que’ and that was all I could make of it.”
    I pulled on the end of my moustache.  I always liked Wilson Foster.  Sure he would get on my nerves now and again, but overall he was a reputable man.  “Give him my best,” I said before leaving, “I mean that.”
    The small smile came back, “I know you do.  Where are you headed?”
    Giving a short grunt I said, “Time for the showdown.  Meeting with Judge Klaus, the council, and Queens.  I pray that it goes smoothly.”
    As I came to the entrance I heard her say behind me, “Don’t be such a stranger…please.”
    Without turning I gave a little wave then went on out to the boardwalk.  I stood for a moment looking up and down the street.  It was then I noticed Skinny Green leaning against a post.  “Skinny!  What are you doggin’ me for?”
    He seems startled, then straightened up, at least as much as I’ve ever seen Skinny straighten.  “I’m a detective,” he boasted.
    I took a couple of steps toward him, causing him to step down off the boardwalk into the muddy street.  “Detective, huh?  Tell me about it.”
    Scratching the top of his head, then wiping his hand down his face he answered.  “Man said he’d give me five dollars if I’d follow you.”
    “That so, what man?” I inquired.  “Why did he want you to follow me?”
    With a shrug of his shoulders, he simply replied, “Don’t know.  Just told me to follow you.”
    “Well, this is as far as you follow me,” I declared.  “I have a meeting in the courthouse with the Judge, that is, unless you want to see the Judge.”
    “No, no, that’s fine,” he stated, but a frown came on his face.  “I hope the man pays me.”
    “Skinny, when were you supposed to meet this man?”
    He shrugged again, “Don’t know, he said he’d find me.”
    “Get on then,” I barked, the stepped off the boardwalk to head to the courthouse.
    When I got there Stan Offut was the only one there with Judge Klaser.  After I greeted them, Offut handed me a telegram.  It was from Marshal Blasco in Denver.  “Deputy will arrive for prisoner.”  He was always short with his telegrams.  He didn’t say when, and I had to assume it was Sam Smith he was referring to.
    Newsome came in next with Mike Queens by his side.  I thought that a mite strange.  A few minutes later Paul Parker arrived.  “Gentlemen, you may all be seated,” stated the Judge.  “Let’s get this meeting started as I have to work on tomorrow’s docket.  Mister Newsome, since you’re the new head of the council go ahead.”
    “Uh, well, there’s been some discussion with Mr. Queens since I last talked with Marshal Forrest.  He’s, uh, well, agreed to a compromise.  Mateo Ramirez can stay on as deputy.”
    That caught my attention as well as the Judges.  “So then, what is your vote, Mr. Newsome?”
    He was fidgety, but blurted out, “Mike Queens!”
    “Newsome!  Perhaps you don’t remember what happened with McCall as marshal,” I challenged.  I really didn’t care if I was marshal or not, but I didn’t want to see the citizens of the town harassed by a hardcase wearing a badge.
    “What are you insinuating?” snarled Queens.
    I stared at him.  “Queens, I know your kind!”
    “See what I mean?” blurted out Newsome.  “This is what we get from Marshal Forrest.  He’s brutal…a, a beast!”
    I looked at the other two councilmen.  I knew both men well, but they were new to the council, and Offut was only filling out the term of Foster.
    “Since, I’m voting for Mr. Foster, I assume he would go along with Newsome,” piped up Offut.
    My attention went to Queens when Judge Klaser asked Parker, who bluntly stated that he would vote for me.  Queens eyes widened briefly, the narrowed glaring at Parker.
    Shaking my head, I stood.  “Guess that settles it.”  
    I started to walk out but upon passing by Queens he grabbed my arm.  “I’ll settle with you later,” he promised with a sneer.
    “Let go, or you’ll never use that hand again!” I ordered.
    He released my arm and I continued on my way out the door.  Queens jumped up, “Tough guy, I’ll make sure I settle with you…”