The Saga of Miles Forrest

I went immediately to the telegraph office to send a message to Gilford Covney letting him know that if Lucas doesn’t show up I would not be on the train to Denver on Sunday.  Then I went over to a storeroom that Charlie was using for his office.
    “Charlie, I’m goin’ to start ridin’ on the north edge of town to the west,” I told him.
    “Good,” he replied.  “I’ll check through the town, then move to the south and work west as well.  We’ll find him, Miles, don’t fret.”
    I nodded then walked up to the cabin to get Star.  It had been a while since I worked him.  Glancing around I saw that he wasn’t in the pasture, so I went on up to the stable.  What I saw stopped me in my tracks and I just stood there with my hands on my hips.
    “Lucas!” I exclaimed.  “Your sister is worried sick over you!  Why are you up here?”
    He was currying Two-Bits and stopped to look at me.  “What do you mean, Senor Miles?  I have a job to do.”
    Walking up to him, I looked him over and saw that he had a bruise on the side of his face.  I reached out to touch it, and he balked and moved his face away from my touch.
    “How did you get this?” I questioned.
    He stuttered a little then said, “I fell.”
    “Well, if you can’t be honest with your boss and friend, then you’re fired.  Get your stuff and don’t come around my horses again,” I snapped.
    It shook him up and I thought he was going to cry.  I didn’t have time to play games with him; I needed answers.
    Sobbing, he went to gather his few materials that he worked the horses with.  I yelled at him, “Lucas!  Tell me what happened!”
    “I can’t,” he said trying to hold back the tears.  “They said…”
    “What?  What did they say?  Who?” I prodded.
    “The men…”
    “What men?  Tell me Lucas so I can help you.”
    “They said they would kill Marta.  I can’t tell you,” he stammered trying to gain control of his emotions.
    “How did you get the bruise?” I asked pushing him for information.  “The truth now.”
    “One of the men hit me.  They wanted to know if I knew where you were…where Mr. Douster was,” he calmly answered now back in control.  Then he added, “I’m sorry,” wiped his nose, “I’m not a cry-baby, but I have to take care of Marta.”
    Putting my hands on his shoulders I said, “We’ll all take care of Marta.  Come with me and we’ll see if Molly has some pie in the diner.”
    “I’m hired back,” he said hopefully.
    “We’ll talk about it over pie.”
    Charlie was in the diner as Lucas and I arrived.  There were a couple of miners sitting at a table, otherwise the diner was empty.  I told Lucas to have a seat while I went to get Marta and Molly and Lucas’ pie.
    “You go sit yourself down,” ordered Molly.  “I’ll bring the pie.”
    I poured coffee, then sat down along with Marta.  Presently Molly came out with three pieces of butterscotch pie.  Lucas exclaimed, “Butterscotch, my favorite.”
    Nudging him on the shoulder, I declared, “One of mine too.”
    Molly then took a seat and I began to tell them what Lucas had shared with me.  He would add to it from time to time, and when Charlie asked if anyone had mentioned any names, he blurted that one man called the well-dressed man, Merker.
    “Do they want me out of the way, or do they want to know where I’m going?” I asked.
    “Seems to me,” ventured Charlie, “they want the whereabouts of Douster.”
    Molly put her hand on mine.  “Miles, I think you should go to Denver.”
    Charlie then piped in, “Yeah, sorta let it be known that you’re leaving.  Maybe not saying it, but implying that you’re going to see Douster.  We’ll take care of Marta,” he said winking at Lucas.
    “I’ve already talked with Grizz.  He’ll be here Sunday and will stay at the diner.  We’ll be all right,” said Molly.
    When Sunday arrived I had Star boarded on the train and I went to kiss Molly goodbye.  There were two passenger cars and I watched carefully the passengers who boarded.  There were two men I had not seen before and that caused me to start pondering.
    “See you in a week,” I hollered as the train let out a loud sound and the train started moving…

The Saga of Miles Forrest

As far as I could tell Covney was able to get Douster out of town on the train with him.  He simply dressed as one of the agents; Gibbons, I think was his name.  McClure would just take the next train back to Denver.
    After the train left I began to move about town looking for Merker.  Besides the saloons, I went into the tobacco shop.
    “Miles,” said Solly Vendor, the proprietor.  “Sure don’t see you in here much.  Are you going to want a chaw or cigar?” He asked joshing me.
    “Solly, if I started chewin’, that would be the last of my kisses from Molly,” I joked back.
    “What can I do for you then?”
    “I’m lookin’ for a man by the name of Merker.  He was in here a few minutes before the jail exploded,” I replied.  “Stockier than me, and a little taller.  He wore a black suit, dark black moustache, curled it some.”
    “Sure, I remember.  He took his time looking over the cigars, then looked at his watch.  After than he purchased a dozen cigars; expensive ones for around here, don’t sell many of them,” lamented Solly.  “Don’t know why I even carry them.”
    I chuckled along with him.  “Next time he comes in here, I want to know immediately.”
    “Sure, no problem,” he said, then paused.  “Think he might have had something to do with that explosion?”
    “Well, let’s just say I’d like to talk to him about it.”
    I went back over to the diner for lunch.  Molly said she was making a mince-meat pie out of elk.  That was one I sure didn’t mean to pass up.  The diner was full.  This time of year the mines laid off all but a skeleton crew.  We had developed a custom to feed them on Thanksgiving and Christmas.  The snow had been light so far this year.  There was snow in the high country, but so far the passes had remained open.  Some of the miners who worked alone still preferred to bring their diggings down the road and not pay the railroad to haul it for them.  It wasn’t much, maybe $100-500 depending on the miner and the year.
    My table was vacant which made me smile.  It was not like there was a sign on it or anything, but most who eat at the diner recognized it as my table.  Plus the fact that Sheriff Gold was sitting there.
    I sat the Greener against the counter to my right, grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee.  He was eating a piece of that pie I was craving.
    Charlie looked up and smiled.  “Sorry Miles, Molly said it was yours but I was able to coax Marta into getting it for me.”
    “Charlie!  That’s nothin’ to be makin’ fun of!” I snapped.
    Molly walked by at that moment.  “Sit down Miles.  I hid you a piece.”
    With that Charlie let out a loud guffaw.  “Almost had you going for a minute.”
    “Charlie, one day,” I said after sitting and taking a sip.  “I’ve a mind to take away your coffee privileges.”
    He stared at me for a few seconds.  “That might be a good thing.  Maybe that burning in my gut will stop,” he stopped to take another piece of pie.  “When do you leave for Denver?”
    “I’ll leave on Sunday’s train, after church.  Sure don’t like to be leavin’ with Merker and his scum still on the loose.”
    “Don’t be fretting.  I’ll watch over the place.  I think Grizz will be back in town; he’s supposed to be bringing meat in tomorrow for the meals on Thursday.  He’ll stay over and help.”
    Molly brought me a good size piece of elk mince-meat pie.  My it was tasty.  I took one large bite, savored it, then decided to take my time and relish the rest.  The lunch bunch was starting to think out and Marta came by to sit a minute with Charlie.
    “I want to know now!” I demanded.  “When are you two gettin’ hitched?”
    Marta giggled some and Charlie’s cheeks started to turn pinkish.  “Why didn’t we tell you Senor Miles?” teased Marta then she stopped not going any further.
    I just looked at her and she started giggling again.  “We’re getting married on Christmas,” she said joyfully.  “Won’t that be a grand day?”
    I just nodded and smiled.
    “Senor Miles, I want to ask you.  Have you seen Lucas lately?” she wondered.
    “No, is he not fillin’ the wood box?  I thought he was takin’ care of the horses as well,” I answered.
    “The box was filled this morning, but I have not seen him since.”
    “Soon as I finish this, I’ll take a walk up to the cabin and stable.  Check to see if he’s done his chores yet.”

The Saga of Miles Forrest

I was sitting down at the table with Doc Jones and Gilford Covney.  We had taken the “body” over to Parker’s so he could get it in a casket and ready for burial.  Grizz had been successful and brought us some fresh meat, so Gilford and I was having some bear stew while Doc was eating some of Marta’s enchiladas.
    Standing at the edge of the door I saw Charlie Gold motioning for me to come.  I must have frowned for he motioned a little more frantically for me to come.  Looking down, I took two more quick bites of my stew and got up.  
    “Molly, save this for me,” I pleaded.  “Back in a while.”
    “Bring Mr. Covney with you,” requested Charlie.
    As we went outside, I sided up next to Charlie.  “Okay, Mr. Sheriff, what is it?”
    He put his hand to his mouth, looked around and just said, “Follow me.”
    He was constantly looking around seeming to be worried that someone was watching.  In front of me, I saw Billington’s house.  
    “If anyone asks, we were here on official business with the bank and the Secret Service,” Charlie said as he unlocked the door and we all entered.  He lead us back to a formal dining area where there was only one window and the curtains were pulled tight.
    I was a bit surprised to see Judge Klaser and Judge Broomfield sitting at the table along with Douster.  Douster wasn’t as surprised for I knew Charlie had to hide him somewhere.
    “Welcome, boys,” said Judge Klaser cheerfully.  “We need you for witnesses.  Douster here has agreed to give us a deposition.”
    Judge Broomfield looked at me.  “What actually are the charges against Mr. Douster?” he inquired.
    “Tampering with an on-goin’ federal investigation,” I replied.
    “Ahmm,” the Judge muttered.
    “What’s to keep me from walking out of here?” snapped Douster.  
    “For one, three of us know that you are an eye-witness to murder, since you testified so in our presence.  Second, as soon as Merker and his cronies know you’re alive and free they’ll be after you,” Charlie pulled at his moustache.  “I would give you maximum of two days life.”
    “You’d have to protect me,” protested Douster.  
    “Just like I would any other free person walking the streets of Durango,” Charlie replied with a smile.
    “So, why are Gilford and I here?” I asked.
    “Miles, you were the arresting official, and Agent Covney is indirectly involved with the investigation.  Plus, we have another duty for him to perform which I will get to as soon as Mr. Douster writes out his deposition and we all sign it,” to which Judge Broomfield pushed paper and pen in his direction.
    “Charlie,” I breathed, “you know there’s at least one other fellow out there with Merker.”
    He nodded and said, “At least one.  I figure at least two.  One to watch while the other set the dynamite.”
    Douster finished, dropping the pen.  Judge Broomfield read it over and signed it, then gave the it over to Judge Klaser who did the same.  Charlie, Gilford and I did the same and as I signed it as a witness I gave it back to the federal judge.
    “That means I don’t have to appear in the courtroom?  Right?” asked Douster a little apprehensive.
    “I can’t guarantee absolutely,” he paused, “but with the Judge’s signature and mine I doubt if it will be called into question.”
    Judge Klaser spoke for the first time.  “That brings us to Agent Covney,” he said and turned his gaze upon Gilford.  “When are you leaving for Denver?”
    “We will be headed out tomorrow morning,” replied Gilford.
    “You and the other two agents?” questioned Judge Broomfield.
    Gilford nodded and Klaser took up the conversation again.  “Mister Douster will be your third agent.  Get him to Denver, away from here.”
    “My things!” Douster protested.
    “Marshal Forrest will gather them up and have them shipped to you.  If I’m not mistaken the Marshal needs to go to Denver in the next few weeks anyway,” said Judge Broomfield.
    I jerked my head to look at the Judge.
    “I was meaning to tell you,” mutter Covney.

The Saga of Miles Forrest

The explosion brought everybody out and running for the jail.  I glanced to my right and saw Merker step out of the tobacco shop, and while standing on the first step, light up a newly purchased cigar.  I slowed down briefly to look at him and Marta almost knocked me down.
    “Miles!  Hurry, we have to help Charlie!” she screamed.
    Turning my attention back to the jail and seeing the smoke billowing upward I hastened my step.  Just as I was getting to the corner Charlie came running from the side street.
    “Stay back, stay back!” he was yelling.  “Miles, you have to help me keep everyone away.  I moved Douster from the jail a while ago.  No one was in the jail, but I don’t want folk to know that.  I think he’ll talk now.  We just have to keep everyone away.”
    Charlie and I began to move people back from the jail.  Telling them that we needed to sort through the rubble, that there was a man in the jail at the time.  Marta found Charlie and was hugging him.  He had to push her away, and I could see she didn’t like that.  We had to make this look real.  I noticed him whispering something to her.
    “Molly,” I yelled through the noise of the crowd.  “As soon as you see Doc Jones send him to us.”
    Shouldn’t we seeing if that man is dead?” asked Wilson Foster as he came upon the scene.  
    “We’ve already found the body,” replied Charlie.  “Too gruesome, that’s why we’re waiting for Doc and Parker.
    “I’ll help,” he insisted.
    Grabbing him by the arm, I said as sincerely as possible, “Mister Foster, you really don’t want to look at the body.”  I got along with Foster alright, but he could be easily swayed.
    “What in the world happened here?” questioned Doc as he arrived on the scene.
    “I think that clear to see, Doc, there’s been an explosion,” replied Charlie.
    “Well, I can see that.  Was anyone in the jail?”
    “One prisoner, we’re waiting for Parker, the undertaker now.”
    It was hard to spot Paul Parker, as he was a small man.  He went about whatever he did in a very methodic manner, never hurrying, nor was he ever to be hurried.  He also made furniture, some of the finest I’ve seen out of Denver, but don’t rush him.  I wasn’t sure about how he would react to Charlie’s ruse over the body.  I reckoned he would go along with it, but didn’t know if he could keep him mouth shut, but then again he might be good at it, for I’ve hardly ever heard him say more than “hmmm.”
    The commotion was beginning to calm down.  Charlie had Foster, Newsome, and a couple of miners that always eat at the diner help keep people back away from the rubble.  Parker had sent for his litter while Molly and Marta went around assuring everyone that things were okay and to stay out of the way.  They were inviting people down to the diner for free coffee.
    As we waited for the litter Doc and Parker worked on a bundle that could, if a person would use their imagination, be a man.  We stuck an old boot on a broom stick, then tossed the other boot on top of the bundle to give the impression that it was completely blown off his foot, or maybe the foot was still in the boot.
    Undertaker Parker went out to get the litter and we put the form on it and covered it with a blanket.  Now to make sure we looked as if we were carrying something heavy over to his office.  People were still there and some wanted to help.  I grabbed one end and Doc the other as Charlie thanked those around and kept them from coming too close.  Sometimes a man’s curiosity can be a dangerous thing.
    I hadn’t had the time to ask Charlie where he had stashed Douster, but we were both fairly certain that he would give evidence as to who hung Curt in his cell.
    We had just made it to the morturary, simple as it was, a reinforced dugout on the hillside behind Parker’s furniture store.  I don’t know if it was first the start of a mine, but Parker had conformed it into an undertaker’s work room.  I glanced behind me just before going in to see if anyone was following us and saw Molly scurrying my way.
    I helped take the body on in, came out and met Molly.  “Miles, hurry, come with me.”
    We moved off back toward the diner.  I saw people milling around outside, not wanting to go in.  Marta and Anihu were inside as they had promised coffee to anyone.  Molly and I moved through the crowd.
    People were asking, “Is it safe?” and murmuring amongst each other.
    Walking inside, Molly stopped and pointed to writing on the wall, “Will you be next?”