Drop the gun then take off the gunbelt,” I ordered.
    There was hesitation on his part.  I didn’t have time to argue with him, I had to get to the baggage car to see what happened.  The solution:  I thumped in alongside the head with the Greener and not did his gun drop but his whole body fell to the floor.  
    I hurried to remove his gunbelt then his uniform belt which I used to tie his hands together behind his back.  Pulling off his uniform blouse I put it on him backwards keeping his arms out of the sleeves and tied the sleeves to the seat.  Then I rushed to see if Linton was alive.  From six feet away I doubt that the lieutenant missed.  The bullet caught him in the chest on the lower left side; most likely destroying a lung for Linton was for sure dead.
    Cautiously I went to the baggage car.  I didn’t know what to expect.  There were four shots fired.  That either meant that the bad guys took control quickly or that Sergeant Quincy had been ready.  They were probably thinking the same thing about what was happening in the passenger car.  Only one shot, did that mean that the Lieutenant had everything under control?
    I decided to climb up on the top of the car and move back to where I had talked with Gibbons.  I didn’t know if they could hear me on the roof of the car or not, I was hoping that the sound of the train on the tracks would hide my steps.  Lying down I tried to peer over the side.  The door was still open.  As I moved slowly down the steps I saw why; the guard was laying halfway in the doorway propping it open.
    “Gibbons,” I loudly whispered.  Seeing that did not good, I yelled out, “Gibbons!”
    “Sure hope that’s you, Marshal, ’cause if it ain’t you’re going to be received with several rounds of lead.”
    It was the voice of the Sergeant.  “Sergeant, I’m comin’ in.”  
    Stepping over the dead guard I made my entrance into the car.  The first thing I noticed what the gun of Sergeant Quincy pointing at me.  “I sure hope you’re one of the good guys,” I stated.  Then I saw Gibbons laying there with a soldier working on him.  “Hurt bad?” I asked the Sergeant.
    “Hard to tell, he needs a doctor.  Private McCaskill is trying to stop the bleeding.  He took a bullet at almost point blank range from the guard.”
    Looking from Gibbons to the others in the car I saw that other guards had been herded to one end with their guns confiscated.  On the floor, not far from the Sergeant lay the shifty-eyed man with a bullet hole in his forehead.
    “I have the Lieutenant tied up in the passenger car.  He shot and killed Mr. Linton,” I said then reached out to place my hand on the shoulder of the sergeant.  “I don’t know exactly where we are or where the next town is, but I will go up to tell the engineer about the situation back here.  Have you seen the conductor?”
    A strange look appeared on the sergeant’s face.  “Come to think of it he went through the baggage car just before those soldiers came back from eating.”
    “Well, he never came into the passenger car.”
    Shaking his head, the sergeant said, “Think they threw him off the train?”
    “That would be my guess,” I said then went to see Gibbons who was unconscious.  “How is he soldier?”
    “The bullet hit right at the shoulder joint.  Since it was fired so close it went on through, but I think the bone might be broken.  I finally stopped the bleeding, but maybe it was ’cause he don’t have much blood left.”
    Leaning down I spoke, “I don’t know if you can hear me Josh, but the bullion is safe.  You and the real soldiers did their job.”
    “Watch him, son,” I said as I stood then hurried out to make my way to the engine.”
    The engineer listened intently as I told him of the situation and informed me that I could get a telegraph out when we arrived where the train would take on water, but it would be close to an hour before we arrived in Las Animas where there would be a doctor available from Fort Lyons.
    As the train took on water I went to send the telegram to the marshal’s office in Kansas City.  “Gibbons shot–STOP–bullion safe–STOP–prisoners–STOP–send telegram to Las Animas advising.  Marshal Forrest”
    Upon entering the passenger car I saw a soldier guarding the lieutenant.  He was still tied and laying down, but was now conscious.  Linton had been taken from the passenger car.  I glanced at the passengers who had all moved together at one end of the car and nodded at them.  “To ease your mind, I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Miles Forrest.  There was an attempted holdup led by the lieutenant that has been put down.  Injuries have occurred but the situation is under control.”
    The engineer must have poured on the coal for we arrived under an hour in Las Animas.  The town marshal was there along with a detachment from Fort Lyons to take the prisoners.  The soldiers who were to relieve the detachment on the train was there as well.  I asked the sergeant if he and his men would also remain.  I now trusted them and these men were new to me.  The officer in charge had no problem and would inform the commander at Fort Lyons of the situation.
    Gibbons was taken from the train to the hospital at Fort Lyons.  He had not regained consciousness.  I hated to leave him, but I had to continue on to Kansas City.
    Just before the train was ready to pull out, a man came running to me.  “Are you Marshal Forrest?”
    When I informed him that I was, he handed me two telegrams.  The first from the Kansas City office.  “Continue on–STOP–marshal will relieve you in Abilene.”  That left me puzzled until I read the other telegram, “Mateo shot, hurry back”…

So far it was a long, boring, uneventful ride.  We had a short layover in Pueblo so passengers could get off.  There were a few on the train going all the way to Kansas City, but no new passengers boarded.  I was located in the passenger car along with Troy Linton.  Maxwell, the tall, skinny guy was with the soldiers in the baggage car with Josh Gibbons moving from car to car, but staying mainly in the caboose.
    The grand Lt. Evanston spent his time sleeping in the passenger car or going to the dining car to eat.  I was a mite surprised that he didn’t go check on his men.  I would think he would want to see that the guards were alert.  Most likely he presumed that his sergeant would take care of it.
    In fact, the lieutenant had just left for the dining car when three of his troops came through the car.  I knew all ten didn’t have to be on guard all the time, but for this many to leave made me wonder.  
    “I’m goin’ to take a walk,” I informed Linton then I headed to the dining car.  I stopped just outside the entry noticing that the three soldiers were at a table with the lieutenant.  That was not so unusual on a short, semi-relaxed trip as this, but they were hunched over seemingly listening to something the lieutenant was saying.
    Instead of entering I went back the other way, nodded at Linton and then entered the baggage car.  The soldier standing guard at the entrance didn’t say anything just let me go on in.  I looked for Gibbons; he must be out at the caboose.  There was a buck sergeant by the bullion along with four other soldiers, another was the guard at the far door.
    Going over to the sergeant I started a conversation.  “Excitin’ trip, ain’t it, Sergeant?”
    Looking me over carefully, he relaxed some.  “It’s not like fighting Indians, that’s for sure.”  He moved away some from the bullion.  “Heard you talking some with the special agent.  You served with Custer?”
    “Rode with him in the Shenandoah Valley, I served directly under Captain Kidd,” I informed him.
    “Saw him once at Appomattox.  I had just enlisted, didn’t see much action only a few days before the War ended.”
    I didn’t think the sergeant looked as old as me.  He had been in since the end of the war, had earned his stripes over the years, and since the war they came slow.
    “Shame what happened to him and the 7th at Little Big Horn,” he stated.  “I had just transferred from the 7th to the 4th regiment at Fort Fetterman.  Just missed the Battle of the Rosebud.”
    “Sounds like the good Lord was takin’ care of you,” I responded.  “Listen, you didn’t miss much but blood and gore in that big war.  Plus you missed the Rosebud and Little Big Horn,” I paused to look him over.  “But Sergeant, if I don’t miss my guess, you’ve seen your share of action.”
    He gave a slight nod.  Then I questioned, “How long have you served with these men?”  
    “Not well, a couple was with me under General MacKenzie when Fort Crawford was opened.  I was with Captain Dodge at Milk Creek.  That was not a pretty sight,” he recalled.
    “Heard of MacKenzie.  Quite a fighter,” I assented then brought him back to the present.  “How about the Lieutenant?  How long you served under him?”
    He gave a small, quick grimace.  “You know, sir, that I can’t be talking against my officers.”
    Raising my hand, I gestured, “No offense, Sergeant, I understand.  But just between you and me, stay extra alert, somethin’ ain’t quite right.”
    I continued on through the car when out of the corner of my eye I noticed one of the soldiers trying not to stare at me.  When I looked his direction, he quickly adverted his gaze.  Nodding at the guard at the exit I went out finding Gibbons standing outside the caboose.
    “Miles, what are you doing back here?” he inquired.  
    “I needed to take a walk.  Josh, there’s somethin’ that just don’t feel right.”
    “Are you sure you’re not imagining things, Miles?”
    “Could be, hope so,” I replied.  “That’s a lot of gold to be temptin’ somebody.”  I proceeded to explain my reasoning.
    “Kind of stretching things aren’t you?” came his reply.  “But to make you feel better, I have the same feeling.  Go on back, but be ready.”
    I went back through the baggage car nodding at the sergeant as I passed and into the passenger car.  The soldiers and lieutenant were coming back as I entered.  I waited for them to pass and for the lieutenant to sit then I went up a couple seats from him.  That way he would be between Linton and myself.
    We were an hour out of Pueblo when it happened.  There were two shots, then the sound of a rifle being fired then another smaller caliber shot.  Lieutenant Evanston came out of his seat stepping into the aisle and I did the same.  He had his revolver out pointing it at Linton who attempted to pull his gun.  The Lieutenant fired and right after he did I jammed the Greener as hard as I could into the area just below his ribs.  He groaned.
    “When I pull the trigger it will literally cut you in half.”
    Groaning he replied, “Too late…”
    “Yes, too late for you for you’ll not see a bar of that shinin’ gold…”

Charlie and I arrived in Silverton amongst a stir in the crowd.  There were several folk gathered at the station and on up the street to the Wells Fargo office.  It was the first time I had ever seen people line up for a parade of gold bullion going down the street.
    We were welcomed as we stepped off the train by Ken Maxwell, a Secret Service Agent.  He was tall and very thin, which made him look like a stringbean especially as he was topped off with a derby.  Walking down the street to the Wells Fargo office he filled us in on the protocol of the shipment.
    These people had seen gold shipped out, but I could see what all the higgledy-piggledy was about for there was a contingent of soldiers from the relatively new Fort Crawford over in Montrose.  Six of them were standing guard outside the office.  As we approached one brought his rifle to bear until Agent Maxwell spoke with him.  Inside the office I nodded at Morgan Appleby and Dick Fletcher, both Wells Fargo men that I knew, a new man looked up when he saw them wave.
    There were six more guards in the office posted in the four corners and two by the safe.  Maxwell took me to the desk to introduce me to the agent in charge.
    “I should have known it would be someone like you,” I said in disgust.  “Always sittin’ down on the job if I remember right.”
    The man jerked up, anger showing in his features, then a genuine smile broke forth through his moustache.  “Miles Forrest!” he exclaimed.  “I would have thought you’d be pushing up daisies by now.”  He reached forth his hand to shake mine.  It was Josh Gibbons, an agent I worked with in the short spell I was in the Secret Services employ.
    “Ah, you two know each other?” asked Maxwell.
    “No!” exclaimed Gibbons, “I always allow strangers to insult me.”  He then shifted his attention to a man at the other desk.  “This is Lt. Oliver Rosecrans Evanston; he’s in charge of the army patrol.  Lieutenant Evanston, I want you to meet Deputy U.S. Marshal Miles Forrest.”
    I reached out my hand, but he didn’t bother to stand, nor bother to take mine.  Reckon they don’t teach manners and proper etiquette to officers anymore.  “Lieutenant,” I gave a nod since he didn’t take my hand and I pointed to Charlie.  “This here is Sheriff of the county, Charlie Gold.  If we can be of help…”
    I didn’t finish, as he abruptly interrupted.  “We have it all under control!”
    Looking over at Gibbons, I shrugged as if to say, “is he for real?”
    “Miles, we have one more agent who is currently out to lunch.  I’ll introduce him when he gets back; fellow by the name of Troy Linton.  Have a seat and I’ll fill you in on the plan.”
    Glancing at the Lieutenant I noticed that he had propped his feet up on the desk and was leaning back, very nonchalant acting as if he were above shipping gold to the treasury in the capitol.
    After I sat, I nodded with my head toward the lieutenant.  “Kinda brash for a youngster, ain’t he?”
    “He thinks he’s another Custer,” remarked Gibbons.
    Looking at the man again, “Well, Josh, I can tell you he’s no Custer.  I served with the General, and sure he was arrogant, up to a point, but he was also courteous and very appreciative of his troops.  Reckon he’s more like his name sake.”
    Gibbons gave a shrug as if to say that’s enough about him then got down to business.  “Here’s the plan.  It’s no big secret, I wish it was, but these troops will stay with the train until we reach Las Animas where they will be replaced by troops from Fort Lyons.  They will then travel with us to Kansas City.”  He gave a smile and wiped down his chin.  “You’ll be leaving us there.”
    “Why bring Sheriff Gold up here?  He has no jurisdiction outside the county,” I inquired.
    Gibbons looked over at Charlie, “No meaning to slight him, but I wanted it done mainly as a course of protocol.  I’ve worked with law officers enough over the years that to trample on some’s jurisdiction they can get riled.  The sheriff will not be going with us but I wanted to include him in the plan.”
    Charlie nodded with a smile.  I knew he wasn’t hankering to travel all the way to Kansas City, in fact, neither was I but it was part of my job.  I liked knowing that Josh Gibbons was in charge of the operation.  
    “We have two hours before the turn around is complete, and the cars placed appropriately,” Gibbons began again.  “I couldn’t say much about the Silverton-Durango train, but was able to get the passenger cars behind the baggage car.  From Durango to Las Animas there will be only one passenger car.  I had hoped to have none with us, but can’t stop the power of the mighty railroad completely.”
    “You fellows hungry?” asked Gibbons.  “No, Molly prepared us a lunch which we ate on the way up.  I could use a cup of coffee though, if there’s some made.”  I knew there would be or Appleby and Fletcher were falling down on the job.
    “Gilcrist!” hollered Gibbons and the new Wells Fargo man lifted his head.  “Would you be so kind to bring the three of us some coffee!” it was not a question.
    He had just sat the coffee down on the desk when in through the door walked a man dressed similar to Agent Maxwell and Gibbons.  They just needed to do something about dressing more appropriately.  What they were wearing might be fine back in Philadelphia or Boston, but they were a dead giveaway in Colorado.
    I turned my head to see the man then frowned.  I peered over at Charlie to see his expression.  His was frowning, his forehead all wrinkled up.
    Gibbons waved him over to the desk.  “Marshal Forrest, Sheriff Gold, this is our other agent Troy Linton…

Thursday, Molly and Marta were planning a going-away party for the Rev. Robinson and his wife Lucy and also to introduce the new preacher.  Sunday would be his first official service.  Things had settled down since the little confrontation in the diner.  Of course, most of the time Keim would be working out at Thompson’s ranch, and Shaw was keeping a low profile.  
    On my way to the telegraph office, I saw the two reverends and Clyde Hoffner walking the streets.  Reverend Robinson was still taking his successor around to meet the people of the town.  I happened to talk some with Mateo and he mentioned that he was well-received in the Mexican section of town.  I’m sure that will not make the priest happy.
    There was a telegram waiting for me from Marshal Blasco.  He said that Keim is not wanted for anything in the State of Kansas.  He said a deputy would be making a call on the Langfords since they were the ones that issued the poster.  I had to chuckle a little as he ended the telegram, “I’m still alive and doing well.”  I reckon that was a jab a me for not checking on him.  I had left him recuperating after our episode in Raton.
    Solly Vendor was standing outside his cigar store when I came out of the telegraph office.  I liked Solly but I couldn’t abide the smell from his ol’ stogies.  He was a jolly sort, always ready to help out if there was a problem in the town, and behind the scenes I knew that he helped those who fell in need.
    “Miles, got a new batch of plug tobacco in just yesterday.  Want me to cut you off a chew?  On the house,” he said soberly, then gave me a slap on the shoulder.  “I heard about the commotion down at the diner.  What’s with this ranch foreman?”
    “Let me tell you, Sol.  The wanted poster is bogus.  I just received a wire from Marshal Blasco informin’ me of its invalidity.”
    “How so?”
    “I don’t know the story yet, but it seems a bitter family in Kansas put it out on their own.  The marshal’s office in Kansas is checkin’ it out,” I informed Solly.
    From up the street came Charlie Gold, marching in my direction.  “Looks like he’s on a mission,” remarked Vendor.
    He was, and it included me.  “Solly,” he said in greeting.  “Miles, get your gear together.  You’re going with me to Silverton.  There is a large shipment of bullion coming out and I need you to help me guard it.”
    “What about the mine guards?” I asked.  I think I was becoming domesticated for I didn’t enjoy the getting out and going like I used to.
    “It’s a large shipment from several of the mines.  Their guards will take it to the Wells Fargo office; that’s when they, along with us will take over.”
    Stan Offut rushed out of the telegraph office bumping into me.  “Oh, good, Marshal, this just now came in for you,” he said handing me a telegram.
    It was from Marshal Blasco, “Shipment from Silverton–STOP–You are to guard as far as Kansas City–STOP  J. Blasco.”
    Charlie looked at me and I gave a big sigh.  “When do we leave, Sheriff?”
    He reached for the telegram, read it, then gave me a slap on the shoulder.  “Next train goes out in two hours.  I’ll get the tickets while you’re getting ready.  I’ll meet you back at the diner in an hour.”
    “If you see Mateo, tell him to come to the diner,” I hollered as he walked back up the street.
    Stan and Solly were standing there looking at me.  “How’s this Mateo working out?” asked Solly.
    There was no animosity in his question but I turned to look at him.  “Sol, why don’t you tell me?”
    That brought a smile to his face.  “If you can keep him alive, I think he’ll be a good one.”
    Offut was quiet, so I turned to him.  “Uh, I have no problems,” he muttered stepping back to go back to his office.
    Two hours later Charlie and I were on the train heading up to Silverton.  We had said our goodbyes to Molly and Marta who had fixed us some nice ham sandwiches to take with us.  “We should be back tomorrow afternoon,” I informed Molly.
    She looked at me, “When will you have to leave for Kansas City?  I want you here for the party on Thursday.”
    All I could do was shrug and say, “I don’t have a schedule yet.  I should get it from Wells Fargo when I get to Silverton.  They should have all of the transfer and travel times.”
    I had seen Upton Shaw sitting at a table, but I didn’t know how intently he was listening in on our conversation…