I don’t believe it,” I muttered motioning to Covney.  “It’s Merker.”
    “Now that’s audacious,” exacted Gilford.  He nodded at the two agents, Gibbons and McClure, who were sitting close to the door.
    I clenched the Greener and stood.  Figuring that Covney would follow I walked to where Merker was seating himself.
    “Merker, you’re under arrest,” I stated pointing the shotgun at him.
    I’ll give him credit, he acted cool and nonplussed. “What’s the charge?”, he asked as he straightened the silverware on the table.  Then he called out, “Waitress, I’d like some coffee if you’re not too busy!”
    Nudging him with the Greener I said, “Let’s go.”
    “But you haven’t charged me with anything, and I’m a bit hungry,” he smiled.  “Ahh, Mr. Covney.  I didn’t know you were in town.”
    I don’t know how he got in but there was Tommy pulling at my jacket.  “Marshal Forrest, the sheriff needs you down to the jail right this moment.”
    I scowled at him.
    “Urgent, he says.”
    “Mind if I walk with you?” inquired Merker.  “You wanted to take me there anyway.”
    I took off for the jail with Merker behind me, followed by Covney and the two agents.  There was a bit of bile rising up in my stomach for there was something that wasn’t right.
    Charlie met us outside.  “Agent Covney and Miles, come in with me.”
    We went through the office area back to the cells.  Hanging from the ceiling was the prisoner, Curt.  He had used his sling to make the noose.  Douster was on the floor–unconscious.
    Looking around I saw that Gibbons and McClure had entered along with Merker.  Glaring at Merker he gave me a smirk then turned around and walked out bumping into Doc Jones as he left the jail.
    Doc glanced at the man hanging.  “Take him down,” he ordered.
    “No!” commanded Covney, “not yet.”
    Doc then went to check Douster.  It seemed that he had quite a knock on the head and was just regaining consciousness.
    “How’d you hurt your head?” I asked.
    Stammering he began to answer.  “I was so startled at what he was doing.  I jumped on the bed to stop him, and, and must have slipped, lost my footing somehow and fell on the floor.”
    Giford Covney went to him and touched the knot on his head.  Douster flinched.  “Interesting how it is a knot on the head.  I would think you would have hit your face or the side of your head on the floor.  What do you think, Doc?”
    “It is rather unusual,” came the reply.
    I grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved.  “Who hit you!”
    Fear came into his eyes.  Was it because of me or the person that had hit him?  “No one.  I told you what happened,” he maintained.
    Covney was studying the hanging corpse.  “Doc, how could a man with an arm broke like his figure out a way to hang himself…and with his own sling?”
    “Let’s get him down so I can examine him.”
    Gilford nodded at the two agents and they came and helped untie the hanging body.  
    “Lay him on the bed,” admonished Doc.  “Hmmm…hmmm.  There’s a nice knot on his head too.  I can tell you this.  He died from suffocation by hanging, but there is no way on earth that he could have done this to himself.”
    I rushed out to the diner…

I was at the train station waiting for the arrival of the Secret Service agents.  When the train arrived I was surprised to see Special Agent Gilford Covney come with the two other men.  Shaking each of their hands I asked if they wanted to go to the bank or get something to eat first.
    “Let’s get to the bank; see what we can find,” said one of the men.
    Off we went and I informed Covney of what took place the night before.
    “You say that one of them is in jail?” Covney asked.  “Is he secure?”
    “Sheriff Gold said that he would stay in the jail until you arrived.  I would spell him later so that he could make his rounds,” I informed him.  “Charlie is doing double-duty right now as the town doesn’t have a marshal.  He hasn’t been able to travel to trouble spots in the county.  We have Douster, the former head-teller in jail as well.  I’m not sure what part he plays in all of this.”
    “Hmmm,” muttered Covney.  “I’ll have a chat with him later.”
    I nodded to Ooverholm when we went into the bank.  There were no customers so I motioned him over and introduced him to Covney and the two agents, McClure and Gibbons.  He showed us the office of the bank president.
    They two agents looked around at the walls so I spoke up.  “Gentlemen, I think what you might be looking for is underneath that desk.  That’s where I caught Douster looking.”  I already knew there was some kind of hiding place there.
    Going to each side of the heavy desk they heaved it out of the way and pulled back the carpet.  Sure enough there was a hidden safe in the floor.
    “Mister Ooverholm, do you have the combination?” asked Covney.
    He stood there gawking at the safe.  “No sir, I have no idea.  I had no idea it was there.”
    Agent Gibbons started rummaging through the bag he was carrying and pulled out what looked like miniature sticks of dynamite.  He pulled out a chisel and hammer commencing to chip away close to where the hinges might be located.
    McClure looked on and then turned to Ooverholm.  “I would close up the bank for a little while.  Maybe stand outside assuring onlookers that everything is all right.  There is going to be a little explosion after Todd gets the dynamite set.”
    “Will, will, the bank be damaged?” Ooverholm asked in quavering voice.
    “No, I assure you, only that little area near the safe,” McClure replied putting his hands on Ooverholm’s shoulder.  “Agent Gibbons is an expert in this sort of thing,” he said pushing on Ooverholm.  “Go on.”
    In a few minutes Gibbons had enough of the floor chipped away and had placed the charges.  “You all might want to step into the other room.  One never knows what could happen,” he said with a smile.
    We hurried out as he lit the fuse, then he rushed out to join us.  Seconds later there were two small explosions, more the sound of large firecrackers.  I doubt that many outside even heard it unless they were close to the bank.
    McClure and Gibbons began to pry open the safe as the hinges were blown.  Soon they had it open and inside were five bars of gold.
    Covney looked at me.  “More than likely you foiled the plan to add to those bars when you kept the gold shipment on the train car.  Billington was supposed to give those bars to the men who had been chasing you and they would take it to a place in California.  There was a bank out there with our surveillance on it as well.  It seemed that Lillian’s husband and Billington’s brother-in-law were involved.  Lillian was sent out here to investigate just after her father run off.  Oh, by the way, the brother was the father of Billy Denton.”
    “What a mess,” I said.
    “McClure, you and Gibbons clean up here and secure the gold,” ordered Covney.
    Covney and I started out.  “When you’re through, come down to the diner.  The meal’s on me.”  I looked at Covney, “If that’s okay?”
    He just smiled, went outside and spoke to Ooverholm.  “You can open the bank now.  My agents are just cleaning up.”
    As we walked through the door of the diner.  Molly smiled, pointed to my table and said, “Your table awaits you.  Sit yourselves down and I’ll bring you some coffee.”
    My eyebrows went up and I looked at her, then over to Covney.  We walked over to the table where she had poured coffee and set the cups on the table.
    “Mister Covney…”
    “Gilford, please, Mrs. Forrest.”
    Molly smiled.  “Then it’s Molly to you.  It’s good to see you again.”
    We had ordered and were drinking coffee when McClure and Gibbons walked in and took a table by the front window.
    “They can sit here with us,” I admonished.
    “No, the less you are seen with them the better,” said Covney.
    I have said it before, and here it happened again.  In through the door walked…

I could hear someone walking in the lobby of the bank, but my attention was drawn toward the window. I had rolled the chair over under the window earlier in the evening.  When the window was raised I could see the silhouette of a person entering.
    First, I heard the chair, then the crash, and finally a moan.  Not being able to see what happened I surmised that the person entering the window stepped on the chair which had rollers.  The door was kicked open.
    “Curt.  Curt.  You alright?” came the voice.
    “Think muh elbow’s broke.  Cayn’t move muh arm.”
    “Hold on, I’ll light the lamp.”
    I was still hidden deep in the shadow in the corner of the room.  “Not a good idea, put up your hands.”
    Now it was too dark to see if he was raising his hands, but I found out soon enough that he wasn’t when he fired a shot my direction.  I let loose one of the barrels of the Greener, heard the shot hit the man and him hitting the back wall.  I wasn’t worried about him, so I turned my attention to the one called Curt.
    “Curt,” I said, still sitting in my corner.  “If’n I were you I wouldn’t do anything stupid.”
    I had learned a long time ago to be patient so I just sat there waiting.  Then I heard a set of horses gallop by and a rider fired several shots through the window.  There were two men I wounded back in Pueblo, but now I knew there was a third one.
    I waited a few more minutes then stood.  Striking a match I lit the lamp and just as I did there was sounds of someone running into the bank.  
    “You better stop right where you’re at and declare yourself as there’s a barrel of buckshot waitin’ for you,” I yelled.
    “Miles, it’s me, Charlie.”
    He came in the room and I lowered the Greener.  “Grab that chair, Charlie and help me set this hombre in it.  You’ll have to pick it up over his friend layin’ there.”
    We bent down to grab an arm, when Curt screamed.  “It’s broke, ohh, I think yuh done tore it off!”
    Ignoring him Charlie and I grabbed him and sat him down not paying attention to his screaming and groaning.
    “Don’t worry, your arm is still attached, but you’re sure enough right; it’s broke.”  It looked like his arm was broke just below his elbow.  I reached and took hold of his wrist and while he screamed again I lifted it up and put it against his chest.  “Keep it there, don’t move it!” I ordered.  Then I reached to relieve him of his pistol.
    By that time some others had arrived.  They must have come up from the saloon area.  I recognized a man, and hollered, “Fenster, go and fetch Doc Jones,” then I paused looking at the man on the floor.  “After that you might as well get Mr. Parker.”
    “Curt, you have a last name?” asked Charlie.
    “You want to answer the man, or should I tap that arm of yours,” I snapped lifting the Greener toward his arm.
    “Richardson.  Ohh, please, I need a doctor.”
    “One’s on the way.  Now, would you like to tell us why you were breaking into the bank?”
    “Jist tryin’ to be a good cit’zen.  Saw the window open an’ thought I should peek in to see if anyone had broke in.”
    “Now, Curt,” I said with disappointment, and then touched his arm with the Greener.  I didn’t push, but he let out a roar that I was feared might wake up his pardner laying there.
    “Don’t touch me, please…I’ll tell yuh.  There’s a secret hidin’ place someone in this room with gold.  Lon and I were sent to fetch it.”
    “And the person holdin’ the horses, what is his name?”
    “Huh?” and then he saw me move the shotgun.  “Don’t know fer sure.  Jist met the guy; I think someone called him Merker.”

I flipped Tommy a quarter when he gave me the message.  It was from Ooverholm.  “Douster is in the office.”
    Quickening my pace I went into the bank and straight to Billington’s office.  As I went through the door I saw Douster trying to move Billington’s desk.  He looked at me, then sneered at Ooverholm who was standing behind me in the doorway.
    “Mind tellin’ me what you’re doin’ in here?” I asked.
    “Don’t have to tell you nothing!” he shouted.  “You have no call to tell me what to do in this bank.”
    “I can tell you that you’re under arrest for disturbing a possible crime scene and interferin’ with an ongoin’ investigation.  Let’s go!”
    He shoved me away.  I reached out and tapped him with the barrel of the Greener.  Not hard, just enough to get his attention.
    “You have no call…” he started to say until I lifted the shotgun again.  He got quiet and I grabbed him by the shoulder of his tailored coat and began to drag him out of the office.
    “Secure this room again,” I said to Ooverholm.  “I’ll be back as soon as I lock him up.”
    “You can’t take me to jail!  I demand my lawyer!” he began to whimper.  “What will people say when you see me being drug down the street?”
    “No what?  I really don’t care,” and pulled him outside in front of a couple who were entering.
    “Why, Mr. Douster,” said the woman who was part of the couple.  “What in earth is going on?”
    “Mornin’ ma’am,” I said.  “He has a visit with the local jail.”
    Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide as I continued to half drag him along.
    Charlie Gold was coming up to meet me.  “Charlie, can you lock him up?  I need to get back to the bank.”
    Charlie grabbed him as I turned to hurry back.  I trusted Ooverholm, but who knows if he went in to just check and happened to come upon something.
    I saw the woman glance at me as I returned so this time I tipped my hat.  She might think I was half genteel then.  I waved at Ooverholm and went into the office.
    Was there something with the desk?  I wondered.  It sat upon a rug that covered enough of the desk and to the back wall.  That would make it so the chair could roll over the rug and not on the wooden floor.  I flipped the rug back to the desk.  There was nothing unusual.  I started to put it back down and noticed that there was a horizontal cut over the vertical pieces of flooring.  I didn’t want Ooverholm to know anything so I put the rug back.
    By that time Charlie had come into the office.  “What happened?” he asked.
    “I found Douster in the office.  He was doin’ somethin’ ’round this desk.”  I completely trusted Charlie, but I had an idea.  “Charlie, can you get me in the bank after closin’?”
    “Sure, I’ll come back and tell Ooverholm that I have to secure the building since Douster had interfered with the investigation.  Show up here around 6:00.”
    “Mister Ooverholm,” said Charlie.  “Lock up that office door and give me the key.  That room is to remain locked until the investigators from Denver get here.”
    I walked on out letting Charlie handle it from there.  I would meet him later in the evening.  There was something gnawing at my guts so I figured I’d act on it.
    I went about my daily business, talked with Foster and he said they were having a meeting this week over the vacant position.  
    After supper at the diner, I told Molly that I was spending the night at the bank and would be doing so until the agents showed up.  She didn’t like it, but after telling her what Douster was doing she understood.
    Charlie was there to let me in and he opened up the office.  I took the cushion off the chair and went and put it in the corner that was behind the door.  When the door opened, whoever came through would not be able to see me.
    “You’ll be okay?” questioned Charlie.
    “Sure.  Just a feelin’ I have.  May be nothin’ but I decided to stay here until the Secret Service arrive.  They are supposed to show up tomorrow.  Lock the door on your way out.”
    After darkness fell, I decided that it would be allright to sleep.  I knew I would sleep light anyway.  If they tried the window I would hear it, and I put the chair under the window.  If they somehow got in the bank and tried to open the door I would here so I figured that it was allright that I slept.
    It was after midnight, by my reckoning that I heard steps in the bank.  Shortly I then heard someone working to lift the window.  I cocked the Greener…