So I saw that there is nothing better for people than to be happy in their work.  That is why they are here!  No one will bring them back from death to enjoy life in the future.”

–Ecclesiastes 3:22, NLT

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     He fired!  Too quickly.  I had learned through many years of experience to make the first shot count–which I did.  My return shot hit him, but I couldn’t tell where.  My second shot found its mark on his lower left side.  The man sagged, eyes glaring to the floor of the wooden porch.  With the shots I looked around, but guns fired in Silverton was not a big thing.  

     The door opened and Doc Minton hollered out, “What in tarnation….”  Then he looked down to see the body on the porch.  I moved his direction as he stooped down to examine the body.  “Here, help me get him inside.”

     Holstering my pistol, I set the Greener by the front door and helped the doctor lift the man into his office.  The man was moaning as I turned to retrieve my shotgun leaving the doctor with him.  Upon my return I heard the man in whispered voice, “I don’t want to die.  Help me…”

     “Son, I won’t lie to you.  You’re in bad shape and there’s not much I can do for you,” replied Doc Minton.

     I looked at the man who I could see was a bloody mess.  The doctor looked at me, shaking his head.  “That one bullet hit his gun, taking the hammer off making it a piece of shrapnel tearing into his chest,” he informed me.  “The second one, well, you know what it did.”

     The man was trying to talk, but words were not coming out.  Finally, he put a hand to the pocket on his shirt.  “My mother’s address, tell her that, that, I died a good man.  She doesn’t know that I went to the bad.”

     “Listen,” I leaned forward hoping that he could hear me, “if you’re not right with the Lord you best be doin’ it quick.”

     “Let him die in peace, for goodness sake!” exclaimed the doctor.  

     Not taking my eyes from the dying man, I simply stated, “That’s what I’m tryin’ to do.”  He was a young man, not more than twenty, if that.  “Ask Jesus to save you, then you can go in peace.”

     He reached up, gripping me by his good hand, eyes widening.  “Really, that’s all…”

     “That’s all,” and upon saying that, there was the hint of a smile on his face and then the light of life went from him.

     “What are you?” snapped the doctor with bitterness in his voice. “A preacher or a lawdog?  Is that how you get your peace, shoot them then try to save them?”

     I took the hand from the man grasping onto my jacket and lowered it to his chest.  “Doc, I take no joy in takin’ the life of anyone.  I take even less joy in knowin’ that I might send them to their Maker unprepared to meet Him.”  Straightening up, I asked.  “Do you know him?”

     The doctor shook his head, then started going through the man’s pockets.  He found the letter in the pocket addressed to a Mrs. Doris Wingate of Canton, Ohio.   He glanced at the letter inside, looking first to the signature.  It read, “Your darling son, Colin.”

     “Colin Wingate?” I questioned in a solemn tone.

     I wasn’t expecting an answer, so I turned to go back to my duty.  “I’ll be back, see if you can gain some information about the man.  If you don’t want to write the letter to his mother I will.”

     The doctor muttered something I couldn’t make out, then said.  “If you’re going after McGinnis, he won’t be as easy as this.”

     I nodded, gave a slight smile and answered, “Most likely not.”  Then walked to the door.  “I’m sorry to say, but you need to be expectin’ more business,” and with that I walked on out to only what the Lord knows.

Then I realized that God allows people to continue in their sinful ways so he can test them.  That way, they can see for themselves that they are no better than animals.”  

–Ecclesiastes 3:17, NLT

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     I glared at Tanner, “Where can I find McGinnis and this so-called Kid?”

     A look of fear came across his face and he had trouble answering.  “You can stay here, I won’t need the help from the likes of you.”

     Then I heard a sound from the area of the cells, then Doc Minton hollered, “Marshal, get in here!”

     Charlie’s eyes were open, moving about frantically.  “Miles,” he groaned out a whisper.  “They tend to stay in the Glass Slipper.”  He closed his eyes and I thought he had gone back to sleep.  Just as I started to rise and go out.  “Miles,” came the moaning voice again.  “Be careful…”  He wanted to say more, but passed out.

     Reaching down I patted him on his good shoulder, “I will Charlie, I will.”

     “Marshal,” came the voice of the doctor, “did you look closely at this wound when you dressed it?”

     I gave a little shrug, then answered, “I was more concerned with getting him patched than doin’ a thorough examination.”

     “For your consideration,” he began, looking up from Charlie, “he was shot in the back.  I think he was trying to warn you.”

     That would be Charlie.  “He goin’ to be all right?”

     Doctor Minton stood to his feet, then looked me up and down.  “He’s lost a lot of blood, but he should be all right barring infection.  I’ll come back by tomorrow to check on him.  If he comes to see if you can get him to eat.  He needs to build up his strength.”

     I went back to see Tanner as the doctor was putting his coat on and putting his tools back in his bag.  He nodded to me as he went to the door and stepped out.  After I got my directions, I followed behind him.  He was halfway down the street when I noticed that a man seemed to be following him, walking on the other side of the street.  I glanced up towards Blair street and my destination, but figured I should make sure the doctor got home safely.  I began to follow, at a distance, staying mostly in the shadows, not hurrying but keeping my attention primarily on the stalker.

     The man stopped at the entrance of the store next to the corner as the doctor crossed the street and moved northward.  I slipped into the alcove of a business, watching.  A few seconds went by, then I saw the man slowly move to the corner to peer around, then he continued on.  I made my move to cross the street, glancing backward to make sure I wasn’t being followed.

     I was reminded of a rat, the way the man darted here, then over there.  Quick moves, not the kind one would make if they were truly good at following.  In my mind, I thought of him as a runt, for he was not a big man.  I breathed a prayer, as I continued to follow him. 

     Doc reached his office which included his home upstairs and went in.  The man I was following pulled his gun moving closer to the structure.  He didn’t bother to check if anyone was following as he stepped up on the porch.  I now hurried to get in position.  Holding the Greener in my left hand, I pulled my pistol.

     As the man reached down to turn the knob, I hollered from the edge of the property, “Hold it!  Put the gun down!”

     He turned, pointed the gun at me…

I said to myself, ‘In due season God will judge everyone, both good and bad, for all their deeds.'”  — Ecclesiastes 3:17, NLT

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     “Pull yourself together!” I ordered.  “McGinnis and who else?  And who is this McGinnis?”

     “The Kid, he calls himself the Kid,” muttered Tanner, who was gaining control of his emotions.  “Sorry, Marshal, it’s just that I’m the only deputy left, the other three are dead, and Marshal Peters was shot down right in front of me, and when the Sheriff tried to stop it, he was shot.  I was fortunate to be able to drag him down to the office.”

     I looked back where Charlie lay, “They’ll pay for this,” I promised, then told Tanner I was going for the doctor.  He gave me directions and I heard the door being locked as soon as I left.  

     I didn’t try to hide myself.  Some here in Silverton knew me, but since I had never heard of McGinnis or this Kid, I didn’t reckon they would know me by sight.  My jacket covered my badge, so I walked normally to the doctor’s office which was a block on the other side of Greene Street.  Silverton always had a need for a good doctor with the injuries that occurred to the miners, but in the past they didn’t last long, just a little longer than a marshal.  

     In front of a small house, there was a red cross and below it read, “Doctor’s Office — Zedekiah Minton.”  Since it was an office I didn’t bother knocking and went right on in the entrance.  There was a little room to my left with a couple of chairs, and to my right was another room with the door closed.  

     “Doc, Doc Minton!” I hollered.  I was half-tempted to go through the closed door, but thought better thinking that he might have a patient in there.  “Doc!” I yelled once more.

     The door opened slightly and I saw part of a face peek out.  “Have a seat, I’ll be right with you.  I’m with a patient,” he informed me, then quickly closed the door before I could say anything else.

     I didn’t bother to sit, but stood in the little entryway–waiting.  It was a good ten minutes before the door opened again and out walked a young woman with a boy who could not be more than ten years old.  The doctor was chatting to them.  I tipped my hat and received a slight nod from the lady.  “Now, remember to take that medicine with food,” admonished the doctor then patting the boy on the shoulder.  

     After escorting them to the door and opening it for them, he turned to me.  “Now, what can I do for you?”

     “Grab your bag and coat and come with me.  Sheriff Gold has been shot and is in dire need of your services.”

     He donned a coat that was hanging from a rack near the entry, then went back to the office to get his bag.  “How bad is he?”

     “That’s why I’m here, I need you to check on him.  He was shot twice, once in the upper chest area and once in the head.  I’ve got the bleedin’ stopped, but he’s needs your attention.”

     He was ready to go.  “He’s up at the jail.”

     As we walked at a brisk pace, he remarked, “I heard shooting the other day, quite a bit in fact, but that’s nothing new in Silverton.”  He stopped, I figured he wanted me to tell him more.  

     “When we get inside, I’ll explain more.”  It only took us a few minutes to arrive at the jail.  I banged on the door, and Deputy Tanner slowly opened it.  I took the doctor right on back to where Charlie was.  I got out of his way so he could work on Charlie and turned to Tanner.

     “Now, where can I find this McGinnis and so-called Kid?”

I also noticed that throughout the world there is evil in the courtroom.  Yes, even the courts of law are corrupt!”  –Ecclesiastes 3:16, NLT

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

     There was sunshine hitting the far peaks when I arrived in Silverton not long before dusk.  The air had a chill that sort of bit right through you when the wind stirred it up.  Shops would be closing in the next hour so that would keep movement on the streets to a minimum.  I was traveling light, carrying only saddlebags and my trusty Greener.  Instead of going up Greene Street then over to the jail, I decided to go along the tracks a ways, then cut up to the jail.  It was located just a block and a half from the notorious Blair Street.  Good location for a jail.

     I could hear the racket coming from around the corner from the saloons and other places of vice.  Catching myself shaking my head, I never could figure out why a miner, especially one with a wife and kids, would go to one of those places and spend all their hard earned wages.  However, once Brewlinski took me down a shaft and I began to get a glimmer of why.  Those men worked with death all around them in the darkness of a hole where the only light was from the light on their helmet and lanterns in the shaft.  They came out of that hole and went to party, laughing that they had escaped death another shift.

     Arriving at the jail, I could see that there was a dim light inside, but upon trying the knob, I found it locked.  That puzzled me.  “Open up!” I hollered banging on the door.  “Marshal Forrest!”

     I thought I saw movement by the window, then I heard the door being unlocked.  A man with a badge greeted me with gun in hand.  Not to my liking.

     “Come in Marshal, hurry!” he rumbled, his eyes darting in the coming darkness.  “Hurry, before someone sees.”

     After entering, he quickly locked the door again.  “Come away from the windows,” he commanded, the fear coming from his tone.  “I’m Lucius Tanner, deputy.”

     He didn’t bother to reach out his hand as it still held the gun.  At times it was pointed toward the floor, other times at the front of the jail, and there were those times that it landed on me making me somewhat anxious.  Finally I said, Put that gun away!”

     Looking at me with wild eyes, I thought he might take exception, but did as I ordered and holstered his pistol, then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.  This boy was scared.

     “Where’s Charlie?” I asked receiving no answer.  “Sheriff Gold, where is he?”

     “Back in the first cell.  I didn’t dare try to get him to Doc Minton.”

     Pushing by him, I marched to the cell finding Charlie laid out on a cot.  Blood was on his shoulder and the side of his head.  “Have you sent for the doctor?”

     “No, I didn’t dare go out.  I tried to clean him up the best I could, but I had to watch the door.”

     I went to Charlie and found him breathing.  He had lost a lot of blood, but I saw the wound on his head was just a scratch.  Head wounds tend to bleed, and it must have rattled Tanner seeing all that blood.  As I rolled Charlie over, I heard a groan, that was good and I quickly saw that the bullet had gone through, that was also good, but not much was done in the way of care.

     “Get me some rags and hot water,” I ordered.  Tanner just stood there, looking over my shoulder at Charlie.  “Now!”

     He scurried away, while I began to remove Charlie’s clothing away from the wound.  It needed cleaning, and then I could make a better assessment.  At least for the most part it had stopped bleeding, that was also good.

     It took a few minutes to get water heated and after I had Charlie’s clothes removed, I went to see Tanner.  “Can you tell me what in the world is going on that’s got you in such a fright?”

     “They’re dead,” he cried.  “They’re all dead.”

     “Who’s dead?”

     “All the deputies, shot down.  McGinnis and, and that…”