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…

Reaching out my hand, “Let me see that poster of Keim again.”  
    There was some hesitation as Shaw looked into my eyes then shifted them to glance at the Greener I was holding in my right hand.  He reached in his pocket for the folded paper and reluctantly handed it to me.
    I looked it over carefully.  He turned my eyes back to Shaw.  “Was this issued by the State of Kansas or any of the counties therein?”
    He sneered, “Don’t make no difference; it’s a wanted poster!”
    “Well, it makes quite the difference.  People can go makin’ up their own wanted posters that would make them an accessory to murder.  Now from what I understand from Mr. Keim is that this was issued by the Langford family.”
    Shaw’s eyes widened and he started to jump up from his chair when I gently, well sorta gently put the Greener on his shoulder.  “Just stay seated!”
    I tapped the Greener on his cheek.  “Let me tell you straight, and I’ll tell you only once.  Anything happens to Conrad Keim, whether he is killed or disappears, I will hunt you down.  I’ll make sure you hang.”
    Hatred entered his eyes making me wonder if my name was added to his poster.  I had him pretty well figured out.  He wasn’t a tough man, but a cheap, weak sample of a man.  He wasn’t the type who would face up to anyone, but would only come from their blindside, shooting  them in the back.
    “I am waiting for a telegram from the U.S. Marshal’s office in Kansas awaiting information concernin’ this poster.  If it says what I think it will say I’m comin’ for you,” I informed him, not bothering to tell him I hadn’t sent the telegram to them, yet.
    “What for?” he almost screamed.  “I haven’t done anything.”
    I tapped his cheek again with the Greener.  “You pointed a gun and threatened an innocent citizen.  You are tryin’ to enforce an illegal wanted poster and by pointin’ that gun of yours I could imply it was a threat of murder,” I paused for him to think about it.  “Plus, you have disturbed the peace of this town, and agitated me to no end.  I don’t like that.”
    He snatched the poster back.  “Can’t Keim take care of himself or does he always hide behind yur skirts?”
    Well, that did it.  I raised the Greener to give him a little thump alongside the head.  Nothing to really hurt, but enough to get his attention.  He did right well, for he maintained a sitting position in his chair with the thump.  I did see his hand move toward his pistol.
    “That would not be real bright,” I muttered then smiled.
    By now his eyes blazed bright with hate.  “Shaw, you ought to leave town.  I can’t be around to protect you all the time and,” I turned to look at Keim then back to Shaw, “I think that Keim would easily take care of you.  That is if you dared to face him.”
    He was breathing deeply.  “Can I leave now?” he asked with a snarl.
    “Why surely,” I responded.  Shaw stood up knocking the chair over as he did and started to walk off.  I put the Greener out in front of him barring his retreat.  “Forget somethin’?” I pointed to the chair.
    His jaws tightened, he was not a happy person, but finally he remembered some manners taught by his mother, bless her soul, or maybe it was the 12-gauge shotgun I held but he reached down to pick up the chair scooting it under the table.  I couldn’t make it out but he was muttering something under his breath.
    “Speak up!  Don’t let there be secrets between us.  If’n your makin’ a threat I’d like to know.”
    He didn’t say any more just stalked off.  Just before he got to the door, I hollered, “Shaw, remember my job is to keep the peace and protect the citizens of this town.”  He glanced at me then proceeded out the door.  I turned my attention to Keim.  “That goes for you as well.”
    I went back to my table setting the Greener on the table then picked up my cup of cold coffee.  Leaving it on the table I went to the counter for a new cup and poured a fresh cup.  “Sorry gentlemen,” I said after sitting.  “Part of the job.”
    Reverend Chapman rubbed his chin then spoke, “Well, that was entertaining.  Is that typical?”
    Giving him a glance then over to the Rev. Robinson, who I thought was trying to hide a smile.  I took a sip before answering.  “No, it was done special for the new pastor,” then lifted my cup for a deeper swallow.  “Just count it toward the offering this Sunday.”
    That brought an actual chuckle from Rev. Robinson.  Molly came up to the table at that time.  “What’s so funny?  I just thought I’d see if you gentlemen were ready for your pie…”

Shaw headed toward a table then angled over to where we were gathered.  He stood beside the chair occupied by Rev. Chapman’s cousin, Clyde Hoffner.  He didn’t so much glance at any of the rest of us.
    “Stand up!” he ordered Clyde.
    Clyde glimpsed at Rev. Chapman, shrugged his shoulders and stood.  Shaw scrutinized him carefully, then asked, “Ever been to Kansas?”
    “Phftt,” muttered Clyde as he sat back down, “you can’t get to Colorado from the east without going through Kansas.  Now, what’s this all about?”
    In a flash Shaw had pulled his gun.  “Get up, you’re coming with me, Keim.”
    “Keim?” uttered Clyde with puzzlement on his face.  “What are you talking about?”
    “Cut out the nonsense, you’re Conrad Keim, and you’ll either get up or I’ll pull you out by your boots,” stated Shaw with a sneer.
    “Easy, easy,” I muttered, then Shaw pointed the gun in my direction.  I glared at him, “You best not point that gun at me.”
    This time he did sneer, “Why not?  You’re hiding a criminal.”
    He was beginning to agitate me.  “This is Clyde Hoffner, the Rev. Chapman’s cousin.  The Reverend is our new pastor.”
    “I don’t have much shuck to do with a preacher,” hissed Shaw.  “Now I won’t tell you again!”
    Reverend Robinson looked up at Shaw, “I don’t understand.  We can all vouch for Clyde.”
    Shaw snarled at him, “Shut up!”  When he did Rev. Chapman reached to clasp Shaw’s arm in a vice grip.  I knew the preacher had a grip when I shook hands with him at the office.  Shaw tried to turn his arm so he could point the gun at the preacher.  It was enough; I had the Greener up and under Shaw’s chin.
    “Now, then…I don’t take kindly to havin’ a gun pointed at me for no reason.  Plus, I don’t take kindly to you questionin’ the Reverend.  I don’t reckon you’re goin’ to apologize, but if I find you’ve shot this man or taken him I’ll hunt you down.  Understand?” I responded, then gave a slight grin.
    There was no response so I prodded upward against the underside of his chin with the shotgun.  “Understand?”
    “I understand,” he spat.
    “Now go sit!” I commanded.  Shaw went over to the table adjacent to us and against the wall.  
    He hadn’t no more sat down when in through the door walked Cecil Thompson, a cowboy I didn’t recognize, and his foreman, Conrad.  “Hmmm,” I murmured quietly.  “Lord, help us now.”
    Glancing at Shaw, I saw that he noticed the man as well.  If I remember the poster right, he fit the description of Conrad Keim much better than Clyde.
    “Don’t!” I ordered then got up from my chair and walked to the table that Thompson had chosen.  “Mind if I sit a minute?”
    After receiving the nod from Mr. Thompson, I sat.  “Mister Thompson, we may have gotten started off on the wrong foot, but I need to talk straight with your foreman.  You have a problem with that?”
    “Go ahead, Conrad will answer what he wants; he’s a growed man,” remarked Thompson.
    Turning my full attention to the foreman I came right out with it.  “Are you Conrad Keim?”
    His right cheek twitched and his blinked his eyes.  “Why do you want to know?”
    When I get an answer like that I know I’m on the right track.  “It don’t mean much to me, but there’s a fellow in town looking for a Conrad Keim who is wanted in Kansas.  I was just askin’ ’cause it’s my job to keep the peace in this town.”
    He scratched the back of his head, then looked at Thompson.  “I’m Keim, but I’m not wanted for anything by the state of Kansas.”
    “Poster I saw says different,” I stated.
    “Are you after me?” he questioned then continued.  “That poster was put out by the Langford family.  It’s not a state poster.”
    “Conrad’s a good man, one of the best I’ve ever employed,” Thompson interceded, “I don’t want to lose him.”
    I sighed, then stood up.  “Thanks,” I said, “Don’t get yourself in trouble by doin’ something rash.”
    As I turned I could see Shaw glaring at me.  I went straight for him…