I must have dozed off, because I woke with a start.  I quickly looked around to gather my bearings.  The first thing I noticed was that Lillian was not in the car; I checked beside me and her pistol was still there.  Then I glanced to Billy and found him sleeping, slumped over in the seat across from me.
    My jaws clenched as I thought of how stupid it was of me to fall asleep, especially so soundly that I didn’t hear the door open and close at the end of the car.  She must have moved back to the other car.  I was just getting up to check when the conductor came through the door and started down the aisle.
    He moved slowly, bouncing back and forth against the seats as the train moved roughly down the track.  Stopping in front of me, he announced, “Marshal, we should be in Pueblo in about a half hour.  Dawn should just be breaking.”  He reached out his hand.  “May I see your tickets please?”
    I reached inside my jacket and pulled out the two tickets.  “You’re all set, but you’ll have a lay-over of about four hours.  You can get coffee, and the little café will be open about an hour after we pull in.  There are some other restaurants if you want to walk a few blocks from the station.”
    “Thanks,” I simply replied.
    He nodded and started to walk away, then turned back.  “Since the train you’re taking is going to Canon City there may be others on their way to the prison.  It could be interesting: tourists, miners, and prisoners,” he said with a chuckle and then went on his way.
    It was about fifty minutes later that I unshackled Billy from his seat.  He started walking down the aisle, sort of shuffling when he stopped.  “Miles, take the chains off my legs.  It’s downright embarrassing the clanking they make when I walk.”
    “Don’t think so, Billy.  Maybe they will make you think of what path you’re travelin’.  Maybe they’ll make you think of changin’ your ways.  Come on, let’s get you to the privy and by that time the eatery will be open.”
    Half an hour later, we had finished and we were heading toward the area where the other train would depart from.  The station was an open area with wooden benches side by side.  None of them had backs on them so they were not made for comfort.
    We had been sitting for maybe twenty minutes when Billy suddenly piped up.  “It’s all your fault.  You went and spoiled ev’rything.”
    I had been constantly moving my head around, but this statement made me look at him.  “Why is that, Billy?” I asked in a calm voice.
    “It’s all ’cause you kept the gold on the train instead of putting it in the bank.  My Uncle would still be alive and Lillian and those men wouldn’t be after me.”
    I glanced around again before questioning him some more.  “What do you mean?  Why would they be after you?  I thought they were trying to help you.”
    “They think I know more than I do.  Uncle wouldn’t tell me anything, but only that from time to time he would remove a few bars of gold and replace them with fake ones made of lead.  He couldn’t pay and whoever it is sent those men to collect,” he paused.
    “Go on,” I urged.
    “That’s when he decided to run away with the satchel of money.  He grabbed me said he’d turn me in as an accomplice if I didn’t come along to protect him.”
    I raised my eyebrows at that.  “Why then the assassination attempt?”
    “He hated you!” exclaimed Billy.  “He said you were always against him becoming something special in Durango,” he dropped his head then murmured.  “I shouldn’t have done it…but you always seem to make me feel small.”  Looking up quickly, he uttered, “But I didn’t mean to shoot at Molly.  Honest, I didn’t.”
    Nodding I asked, “How does Lillian fit in?”
    His eyes widened.  “Watch out for her!” then he smiled a crooked smile.  “Her husband is the boss of the outfit.  But she’ll use her wiles on any man.  I even heard rumors that she was on the take with Uncle’s replacement.”
    Graylight had fast disappeared and the sun was above the horizon.  At least two more hours to sit here in the open.  There was movement over by the corner of the telegraph office, then I heard the footsteps on the wooden floor of the station waiting room.  It was Lillian, and she was walking in my direction.

Do you have to keep me chained to this seat like an animal?” he whimpered.
    “Billy, as far as I’m concerned you’re just one step above an animal.  In fact, if I owned a dog, I wouldn’t chain him up.”
    He’d been whining and whimpering ever since we left Durango twelve hours ago yesterday.  When I took him for a walk, he’d whine that he couldn’t walk right with the chains on his legs.  He’d whine when I gave him food saying he couldn’t eat with handcuffs on, but I’ll tell you, he managed to do both.  I think I even heard him whimper in his sleep.
    I probably should have locked him up in the cattle car but didn’t want to disturb what horses might be in there.  At least there were only two sets of passengers in this car and as soon as they saw Billy was a prisoner they left and found seats in the other car.  The car we were in was right next to the tinder and I sat with my back to it so I could watch if anyone came in.  There was one other passenger car, one for any cargo, and one for any horses.  Attached to the back was the caboose.
    I didn’t think Billy dangerous, but he was a nuisance and, well, he had tried to kill me so I had to depend upon my ears to hear anyone come in if I should doze.  So far, I had done well, and didn’t feel too much worse for the wear as we traveled.  I had Billy chained to the seat across the aisle from me and I sat back next to the window.
    We changed trains in La Junta and would have to change again in Pueblo for Canon City.  We would have a four hour layover in Pueblo.  That would be the most dangerous part of the trip.  It would be hard to keep my eyes on all four directions, but then who would want Billy?
    Those were my thoughts as I heard the door open at the far end.  Lifting my head to see who it was, I groaned within me and moved the Greener from the seat to my lap and shifted in the seat toward the aisle, for walking down it was Lillian.  She had some kind of little hat with a feather in it on her head and was wearing a very nice, form-fitting green dress.  
    She came to where we were sitting, and I waited for her to speak.  She was hesitant, but then finally said, “I’d like to talk with Billy.”
    “Fine, hand me your bag.”
    Looking as if I slapped her, she retorted, “I beg your pardon.”
    “Your bag, give it to me and then you can sit with him.”
    “Why, why, you don’t think…here!” and she thrust the bag at me and it clunked on the side of the seat in front of me.
    “Cautious,” I said, then looked in the bag.  
    “There’s personal things in there,” she said sharply.
    “I’m sure there is,” and I lifted out a small Colt .41 and smiled at her.
    “For protection,” she hurriedly said.  “A woman needs protection when she travels alone.”
    When I didn’t give her the satisfaction of a reply she started to sit next to Billy.  “Sit across from him,” I commanded in what I thought was a calm voice.
    They did some chit-chat not saying anything of importance or that I might take notice of.  I just wanted her to leave.
    “Marshal, you should unchain Billy.  He’s very uncomfortable.”
    I just stared at her with that look I’ve been known to give.
    She huffed a bit and then declared, “I’m going to sit here and make sure that you don’t kill him before he gets to Canon City.  After all, according to the trial, you are the person he tried to kill.”
    “Go ahead, but you will do your sittin’ down at the other end of the car.”
    “I have my rights!  I have a ticket, I’ll sit anywhere I please!”
    “Miss,” I sort of moved the Greener so she could see it, “if you don’t move to the end of the car I’ll have the conductor remove you altogether.”
    She huffed some more, then stood up reaching out her hand.  I gave her the bag, but she kept her hand out, waiting.  “My gun.”
    I smiled…

I had just sat down in the diner, returning from the trial.  Molly was required to testify, so she went by the cabin to change before coming on down to work.  The trial of Billy Denton was uneventful, except for a few tears and wails from Lillian in which I got the distinct impression that it was for show.  Billy was sentenced to fifty years in the penitentiary at Canon City.  There was no sign of any of the others who might have been associated with those in the shootout at the jail just days prior.
    Having just poured a cup of coffee, I sat there sipping and sort-of sulking.  That’s it–sipping and sulking, for I had been assigned by the court to escort Billy Denton to Canon City, leaving at the end of the week.  I had hoped that another deputy would be sent, but because I was already there Judge Broomfield decided to use me.
    I had finished about half the cup when I noticed a presence sitting at the table.  Now instead of sulking, I became a little depressed.
    “Friend, Miles, I’m still waiting for you.  Thought I had you back in New Mexico; shame young Denton and Billington were so inept in carrying out their mission.  Of course, they didn’t know they were working for the “Prince” in doing so.  But, at least some were sent my way,” then he let out that cursed cackle of his. “Your time will come Mister Marshal Forrest, and I will surely dance and celebrate when you are finally in my clutches.”
    Glancing at the putrid form sitting at the table I seemed to gain some strength.  “The reason they missed is because my life is in the hands of the Creator and Sustainer of my life.”  When I said that I could see him recoil a bit, the blood running through his blood veins that I could see pulsating through his pale skin.  “And you’ll never have me in your clutches.  When I pass on, it will be in the arms of Christ!”
    With that I heard a screech, and then there was an odor that seemed to permeate the region where he had been sitting, but at least the Pale Rider had disappeared.  I no longer feared him, as I once did years back.  Sometimes the devil’s grin might come to me in a dream, but it was rare any more.
    “Miles, who were you talking to?” asked Molly.  She came in as I was saying the words that sent my adversary on his way.  She was wearing a light gray cotton skirt and blouse with her white apron over it.  
    “Molly, are you a cook, or a nurse?” I questioned seeing her in that outfit.  
    “Hannah brought it by and wondered if I wanted it.  Now, who were you talking with?”
    I hesitated, then said, “My old nemesis, the Pale Rider.”
    She sighed, “And…”
    “And he left.”
    “That’s all.  I had some words for him, which he didn’t care for and left,” I replied.  “Let me get you some coffee.”
    I stood up and went to the stove to grab the pot and a cup from the counter.  “I’ll drink a cup, but then I need to get to the kitchen,” she said and then took a sip.  “I’m glad the trial is over, but I don’t like it that you were given the task of escorting Billy to prison,” she took another sigh and I placed my hand on her arm.  “It just seems like that young man brings grief and I don’t want any more brought to us.”
    “Say, why don’t you take off tomorrow and we’ll ride up the canyon a ways and have us picnic.  You haven’t ridden Two-Bits in a while and it’ll do us both good.  I have to leave in a couple of days, so let’s have one day to ourself.”
    She looked at me and smiled.  “I’ll talk to Marta.  It should be all right.”
    I finished my coffee and stood up.  “I’m goin’ to go check on Charlie and then see if I have a telegram.”
    “I’ll talk to Marta and let you know tonight at the cabin.  Right now, I need to go help Anihu in the kitchen.  I might need to make some pie crusts if I’m going to be gone tomorrow.”
    Molly got out of her chair and came to me for a hug.  “You be careful as far as Billy Denton’s concerned,” she admonished.
    “I’m always careful, you know that.”

I heard several more shots as I hurried toward the jail.  As I came to the corner of the block I slowed down moving close to the Foster’s hardware store.  I knew better than to rush into a gunfight; even the good guys might be over anxious and start firing in my direction.
    Peering around the corner, I hollered, “Charlie, I’m to your right.”
    I saw one man lying in the street by what I assumed was his horse and another on the doorstep of the jail.  It was hard to tell if they were dead or not, so I assumed they could still be in the fight.
    “Miles,” came Charlie’s retort.  “Move across the street and ease on down toward the jail.”
    As soon as he finished I made a break across the street to be on the same side as the jail and slowly started moving toward it.  I was just beside the window so I peeked in.  I didn’t see anyone, but I wasn’t about to take any unnecessary chances the way lead had been thrown around.
    Charlie started moving up the street straight toward the jail.  Before he stepped over the one down in the street he gave the man a good kick to see if he could get any reaction from him.  There was none.  He did the same with the man on the boardwalk, but keeping his eyes on the door.  There was a slight grunt so Charlie reached down, picked up the downed-man’s gun and threw it to the side.
    It was then I saw the blood on Charlie’s side.  “Hurt?” I asked.
    “Winged me, nothing serious.  I think it hit the fleshy part under my arm.”
    “Ready when you are,” I said.
    “I’ll move to the right.  Let’s go.”
    He went through the door low and to the right.  I went in standing up to the left.  There was no one in the room and it was easy to see that no one was in the little aisle between the cells.  I walked down toward Billy’s cell.  He was standing there holding on to the bars.  His eyes wide in anticipation then he saw me.
    “You!” he said with disgust in his voice, turned and curled up facing the wall.
    “Charlie, looks as if they did some damage to the lock on the cell.”  
    He came over and took a look.  “Hmmmm, looks like they tried to shoot open the lock.”  He reached to the back of his belt.  “With no jailer or deputy I usually take the keys with me when I leave.  Bullet sure couldn’t do much damage to that cast-iron lock except ricochet around the room.”
    “Who were they, Billy?” Charlie asked, but only received silence in reply.
    Charlie turned to check on the man laying outside the door.  In a muffled voice, racked by pain, the man uttered, “I’m gonna die, ain’t I?”
    Charlies examined his wound as I came up to stand beside him.  “It don’t look like you have much of a chance.  Better be making your peace with the good Lord,” he paused.  “Have a name I could put on your marker?”
    The man groaned, “Des Newby.”  He tried to lift himself up.  “Is Al kilt?”  Then he slumped passing the way onto a different type of judgment.
    I stayed with Charlie until Doc Jones came up to work on his arm.  Not sticking around I went on down to the diner so Molly wouldn’t worry.
    Sitting down at my table, Molly sat down with me and Marta brought over some coffee.  Looking at Molly I asked, “Can you spare Marta for a few minutes?”
    Marta’s eyes widened.  “He’s all right, but you might want to walk him back.  You know how big a baby he is.”
    She rushed out, heading for the jail.  Molly asked, “Is he hurt bad?”
    “Bullet winged him under his arm.  It’ll be sore for a while.”
    Twenty minutes later, she came through the door with Charlie handing onto her arm.  She rushed to the table and pulled the chair out for him, then went to the stove and poured a cup of coffee for him.  “Sit there, my love, there is some butterscotch pie in the back.  I’ll bring you a piece.”
    Before I could holler, “Me too,” she was gone.
    I looked at him.  “Charlie, we need to figure out how to guard the trial tomorrow.  Both of us are witnesses, so we need to come up with a plan.”
    “Tonight as well,” he said with concern.  “For some reason they want Billy out of there.  I’ll go back and quiz him in a bit.”    
    Marta came back out with a piece of pie…