I was going down to Foster’s store to see if he had any canned tomatoes.  Molly had ordered several cans, but wanted a few more.  She was busy making several pies for tomorrow’s Christmas feed.  We’d put the kettles on in the morning to get the stew going.  For the past few years we always invited folks in the town over for a Christmas time of getting together.  We’d make up a couple large kettles of stew and have pie.  It was a nice time, and in the winter there were plenty of out-of-work miners needing something to eat.
    The stew this year was primarily elk with some venison thrown in.  There were plenty of potatoes and onion along with some carrots.  What I was to pick up was some more cans of tomatoes.  I just had to shake my head a little.  Hard to imagine them being able to can things such as tomatoes, peaches, and the like.  
    Stan Offut was standing outside the telegraph office puffing on a cigar.  He didn’t allow folk to smoke in the office so he didn’t either.  It was too small an office to have smoke gather.
    “Hey, Miles!  Telegram in here for you!” he hollered then went inside.
    For some reason I got a shiver.  It made me look around to see if the weather was going to change.  There were some clouds building back toward the north, but it looked as if we were going to miss the chance for a white Christmas.
    Stan met me at the door of the office with the telegram.  I unfolded it while standing there.  “Lamb escaped–STOP–guard wounded, serious–STOP–be ready.  J. Blascoe”
    Stan must have seen my face go grim with the news for he asked, “Something wrong?”
    I slapped him on the shoulder.  “Nothing that can’t be handled.  Thanks.”  I started to walk away but turned back.  “You and the wife comin’ tomorrow or does she have something prepared?”
    “Did Molly make a mince-meat pie?” he inquired.
    Giving him a nod, he replied, “Then we’ll be there.  Bea will like to get out.”
    Folding the telegram I placed it in my jacket pocket.  There was something that Marshal Blasco wasn’t saying.  “How in the world did a one-armed man escape armed guards on his way to prison?” I thought, mulling the thought over in my mind while walking on up the street.  For sure, Lamb would head this way; for no other reason but that his brother was still here.  Another was to even the score with me.
    I decided to stop by the sheriff’s office to see if Charlie was in.  He needed to know about Lamb.  As I walked in the door I shouted at him, “Don’t you ever do any work?”  He had his feet propped up on the desk and was leaning back.  My shout almost made him lose his balance.
    “I should shoot you for that,” he muttered.  “Take a couple years off a fellow’s life.”
    “Lamb escaped.”
    “No way!  How in the world?”
    “That’s what I was thinkin’.  One of the guards was shot.  Blasco said he was in serious condition,” I paused to pull on my moustache.  “I’m thinkin’ he had help.”
    “Teeter and his thugs,” stated Charlie.  “Give me their names and descriptions so I can get it in my head.  When are you thinking they may get here?”
    I went to the stove to check the coffeepot.  It was still hot, so I grabbed a cup from the shelf and poured a cup.  After taking a sip I replied.  “They could show up as soon as tomorrow, but I reckon after Christmas, or maybe even after the New Year.”
    Charlie gave a little grunt.  “Tomorrow would catch you unawares.  Relaxed, having fun with friends…be a good time to get you.”
    “I’ll be ready.”
    “What time is the feed tomorrow?” he asked.
    I gave a little chuckle.  “Doesn’t Marta tell you anything?  We’ll go to church and then head back to the diner.  Elena will keep an eye on things while we’re in church.”
    “Marta has been trying to get her to come with us, but right now she is too Catholic.  However,” he smiled, “she likes it when the Preacher Clayton comes to visit her.  He reads to her, holds her hand, then prays for her.  She just sits there, taking it all in with a smile.”
    “He’s sure a good man,” I responded.  “Helps those whom he can, even up in Mex town.”
    I finished my coffee, wiped out the inside with a towel I saw handing near the shelf then placed it back where I got it.  Charlie stood as I started out.
    “Merry Christmas, Miles.  Tomorrow’s gonna be a fine day,” he paused, “and maybe quite interesting.”

Lamb was moving rather slowly as his wound still bothered him.  Doc raised his hand and waved him over to our table.  His walk was a little above a shuffle and mosey.  Charlie Gold reached over to grab a chair from another table so he could sit down.  Molly jumped up and started for the kitchen.  Now, what was she doing?
    It was quiet around the table as he seated himself.  I was not used to having a casual time with a criminal, especially one that had tried to harm my family and friends.  Perhaps Lamb sensed the problem, for he uttered, “I don’t mean to intrude.”
    I wanted to blurt out, “Then don’t,” but Molly was coming back from the kitchen with a piece of butterscotch pie.
    “Here you go, Mr. Lamb,” she said then turned to me.  “Miles, get Mr. Lamb a cup of coffee to go with his pie.”
    It was not a request.
    “Thank you, ma’am,” he muttered seemingly somewhat embarrassed.  He then asked, “Have you heard anything about James?  When is his trial?”
    “All I can tell you Lamb is that your brother made it to Denver.  As to his trial, I have no idea when it will take place,” answered Charlie.
    Looking at me he asked, “They wouldn’t put him in prison with only one arm would they?”
    Doc wiped down his chin with his hand.  “I imagine the defense will use that to their advantage.  But you must understand that he must face the consequences of his actions.”
    “Lamb, I met some friends of yours up Silverton way,” his fork was halfway to his mouth when I said this.  He stopped to look my direction.  “Fellow by the name of Micah Teeter, along with Jenks and Framm.”
    He lowered his fork to the plate.  “Did they say they were my friends?” he asked with a straight-face.
    I gave a little shrug, then added, “Not directly.”
    “Then I’ve never heard of them,” he snapped pushing the rest of the pie away from him.
    “Your trial will probably come up right after Christmas.  You sure you want to stick to that story?” I asked.
    This time I received a glare.  Molly placed her hand on my arm.  “Mister Lamb, we all have to pay the consequences for our actions,” she paused then continued, “and that includes sinning against the Most High,” she stopped and gave him a smile.  “That’s why this time of year is so joyous.  The heavenly Father sent His Son so that we don’t have to pay the ultimate penalty for our sins.”
    He turned his gaze to Molly.  “Were you the one that sent the kid to see me?  He said he was praying for me,” he snorted.  “What rubbish, after he shot me.”
    Turning to Charlie, “Why hasn’t he been tried for attempted murder?”
    His congenial attitude had been replaced with a snarl.  “By the way,” he calmed down, “where is the woman I tried to, uh, that you say I tried to kidnap?”
    “My wife is in the kitchen.  Why do you want her?” indicated Charlie.
    “Your wife!” exclaimed Lamb shaking his head then mumbled, “I don’t stand a chance at the trial.”  Sighing he continued.  “I came to apologize if I upset her with her supposed intentions,” he stated then looked at each of us.
    Charlie stood up to get Marta…

The morning rush was about over.  Charlie Gold was sitting at the table with me along with Doc Jones.  There tends to be more customers this time of year on into spring as mines lay off many of their workers and just keep a skeleton crew going.  That’s one way the mines save money and cheat the working miner.  Some of the wiser miners keep some money for the hard times, but many of them throw it away on the vices that are offered in Silverton and Durango, and even as far as Telluride.
    “So,” said Doc after he scratched at his ear and took a sip of coffee, “do you think those three galoots were involved in the train robbery?”
    I replied with a nod, “I think it’s highly possible.  I plan to have a talk with John Lamb after we finish here.  Sure wish they hadn’t come for James so quickly, but they wanted to get him to Denver.”
    “I’m not,” uttered Charlie.  “I’m glad he’s out of my hands.  You know, he was always a little haughty with his manner, but somewhere along the way it’s turned to downright hatred.”
    “Probably right after Doc had to cut his arm off,” I responded.
    “One thing for sure,” offered Doc, “there’s no love lost when it come to you, Miles.”
    “Where do you think Sam Fooy is hold up?” questioned Charlie.
    Giving a shrug he said, “Fooy is no fool.  He makes a big haul and then lies low, sometimes for a year or more.  He likes spending his money more than the prospect of gettin’ caught and windin’ up in prison.  Plus, this last time someone was killed and that’s not the way that Fooy normally operates.”  
    I got up to get some more coffee and after pouring my cup full I turned to the others.  “Either of you want a refill?”
    “Maybe if I had a piece of pie,” muttered Charlie.  “I just can’t believe that Molly done run out of pie.”
    “More out of work miners hangin’ ’round,” I replied.
    “Yeah, and they’re keeping the jail full,” said Charlie in disgust.  “Tempers are flaring, and when the real cold weather sets in they’ll be wanting to be arrested so they can feed on the county.”
    I took a sip, then wiped off my moustache.  “Ha, speakin’ of the county, how is Olson takin’ it that he was voted off the city council?”
    That brought a grunt from Doc, then Charlie answered.  “Like a sore tooth.  Swore that those Mexicans shouldn’t be allowed to vote.  If we hadn’t been at the polling booths his ruffians would have run them off.”
    “Yeah, they weren’t about to argue with a Greener,” I said with a smile.
    “And McCall has taken the job as marshal.  He’ll start the first of the year,” added Charlie.  “That’ll sure help me out.  Some of these outlyin’ communities need some looking into.  Only Silverton has a marshal, and they don’t seem to stay around long.”
    “I was surprised that Giles Fremont took on the position,” I stated then pulled on my moustache a couple of times.  “Not sure if it’s good that the three men on the council are all store-owners.”
    Doc coughed to clear his throat.  “Say, how did Lucas like his trip?”
    I saw Charlie roll his eyes, “That’s all he talks about.  How he discovered that Micah Teeter was a wanted man.”
    “He did fine, except that he had to have a second strawberry ice cream soda,” I said shaking my head.  “I think he might have become too fond of the stuff.”
    That brought a laugh from both of them.  “I might have to jerk his collar a bit.  He hasn’t filled the wood box.  Just because he went on a trip and saw some fine things doesn’t mean that he can shirk his regular chores.”
    “If I see him, I make sure to let him know,” stated Charlie.
    Molly came out of the kitchen to join us for a few minutes.  She wouldn’t be staying long, just a minute or two to get off her feet.  The noon rush would be coming soon.
    Just before she sat down, the front door opened.  “Well, will you look here?” she blurted.
    In through the door hobbled John Lamb.  With his condition Charlie and I agreed that he could be under house arrest.  But now, he was out of the house.
    I wanted to talk with him…now I wouldn’t have to go looking for him…

After leaving the meeting I walked up to the corner to look for Lucas.  Where was that kid?  Then looking down the street I saw him racing around the corner like a banshee was chasing him.
    “Senor Miles…” he hollered, out of breath.
    “Lucas!  What did I tell you about goin’ on the streets to the north?” I asked with exasperation.
    “But, Senor Miles, I was doing what you say, ‘investigatin’,'” he panted as he grabbed hold of my arm.  
    “Investigatin’?”
    “I saw them, the men.  I couldn’t see them very well last night, but I saw them up the street so I went to look.  He is the man!” he exclaimed.
    “Now simmer down, what man?” I questioned.  
    He was beginning to catch his breath.  “The man at the fire, I think his name was Teeter; he was the man I saw talking with Senor James Lamb in the doctor’s office.”
    “Did they see you?” I asked with concern.
    “No, I was very careful,” he said then dropped his head.  “I know I disobeyed, but I had to be sure.”
    I clasped him on the shoulder.  “Well, that’s one thing about bein’ a man.  You have to make decisions, and then be prepared to accept the consequences.  We might just have to forgo that ice cream I was thinkin’ of gettin’ you.”
    His eyes seemed to enlarge with almost tears, but he replied.  “I understand,” he replied with a large sigh.
    “But again,” I began to say.  “You brought back some important information and undertook a dangerous job to do so.  I might have to reconsider.”
    We walked up the street to a store that boasted of ice cream and something new–ice cream soda.  Lucas looked carefully at the sign.  “Senor, what is thees ice cream soda?”
    I had to chuckle a little bit.  “Well, Pard, I’m not quite sure but from what I hear they pour sody-pop over ice cream.  Supposed to be good.  How’s about us givin’ it a try?”
    After ordering and receiving our soda; we both got strawberry, we sat down and I began to think of what Lucas had told me.  Those men, at least Teeter, knew the Lambs.  I wondered if they had anything to do with the holdup.  Fooy was always very careful but there had been a man killed.  Perhaps these three broke away from Fooy.  After he made a haul he was known to disappear, sometimes for a year or more.
    I thought that I might take a meander after supper and I put Lucas in the room for the night, but then figured that neither Marta nor Molly would approve.  I’d check wanted posters at Wells Fargo on the way to the train in the morning to see if there was anything on the three.

    The next morning, after a hardy breakfast, we took our horses to the station to get them loaded on the stock car.  I was a mite nervous with those men hanging about.  I wondered why they didn’t try anything that night at the camp?  Were they concerned about Lucas?  If so, that’s a plus on their side, but I reckoned that they figured it just wasn’t the right time.  
    I hoped they weren’t on the train.  I had been playing up that Lucas was a man, but I didn’t relish to go up against three men with someone still wet behind the ears.  Of course, I wasn’t about to tell Lucas that.  I had half a mind to stay back with the horses, out of sight and out of the way, but decided to go ahead and ride in the passenger car.
    The Lord must have heard the prayer that I didn’t say for there was no sign of the men.  The trip back to Durango went without incident.  Marta was there to meet us at the station and she gave Lucas a hug that surely did embarrass him.  He even wiped the big wet kiss off his cheek.
    When I saw that I started to laugh some.  He turned to me, “What is so funny, Senor?”
    “Nothin’ Lucas, nothin’,” I muttered.  “Let’s go see Molly, then get the horses cared for.”
    “You go ahead, Senor and see your wife.  I will care for the horses,” he ordered then began to walk off.  After taking a few steps he stopped, turned and spoke to me.  “Gracias, Senor Miles.”  
    Nothing else needed to be said…