I hurried back to the diner where I saw Merker, sitting at the same table, drinking coffee.  Going to his table I notified him, “Merker, you’re under arrest.”
    He slowly placed the cup back on the table.  “Oh, come now Forrest, not again.  You have no charges.”
    “Douster, the man in the other cell, said he recognized you,” I informed him.
    His eyes widened for a few seconds, then smiled and calmly said, “That’s entirely impossible.  The only time I was at the jail was when I followed you.”  He picked up his cup and slowly sipped at it.
    “Forrest, I’ve had the opportunity to chat with your charming wife.  With all your duties I imagine that she is left alone quite often.”
    I grabbed him by the collar and was ready to smite him when Covney came through the door and hollered, “Miles!”  He walked over to my usual table and motioned for me.  I shoved Merker, and he straightened his jacket and went back for his coffee.
    Molly was already at the table, pouring coffee for Gilford and myself.  Then she grabbed another cup and poured one for herself and sat down.
    “Miles, not now.  We don’t have enough to hold him unless Douster talks.  If you arrest him, he’ll be out tomorrow.  If you assault him, then you’ll be in there with Douster,” he sipped at his coffee after thanking Molly.  “I know it’s hard, but have patience.  This will play out.”
    I put my hand on Molly’s arm.  “What did he say to you?” I asked.
    “Nothing really.  He simply said, ‘good morning,’ and that I looked bright and cheery for one who has to work tables for a living,” she disclosed softly.
    “No threats?” inquired Gilford.
    “No, except that furtive smile that can be interpreted in many ways.”
    Gilford looked at me.  “He’s trying to get your goat.”
    “He’s doin’ a good job.  I remember his bluster and arrogance when I met him in Denver along with that other fellow, Myers,” I uttered.
    We had been sitting for around twenty minutes, drinking coffee and eating pie that Marta had brought to us when Merker finished his meal.  I watched him put money on the table and instead of walking toward the door he came to our table.
    “I just wanted to give my best and said to the lovely Mrs. Forrest, have a good day,” he paused looking at me then back to her.  “Until we meet again.”
    He turned his back and started to walk off.  I was ready to lunge from the table to grab him when Molly grasp hold of my arm.  “No, Miles,” she scolded.
    Merker turned and smirked.
    “Simmer down,” she said, stood and went to the stove to get the coffeepot.
    “I’m waiting a telegram from Denver.  I’m hoping that Mrs. Denton has confessed and opened up the whole plot,” swore Covney.
    “Douster,” I blurted, pushing back my chair and standing up.  “We need to get Douster to talk.  If he says that he saw Merker hang Curt, then we’ve can arrest him.”
    Covney and I started for the jail.  I saw Merker coming out of the tobacco shop when there was a tremendous explosion.  It was at the jail and where we were standing two blocks away we could feel the concussion of the blast.
    “Charlie!” I yelled.

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.”