I was holding Molly after arriving home.  It was getting close to rush hour, so I wanted to get my hug in.  Then, Denton walked in the door, gun in his hand.
    “Forrest, I hate your guts!” he said leveling the gun.
    Quickly I swung Molly around.  I glanced at the Greener laying on the table–too far away.  There was no way I could draw my pistol in time.  Then I felt like someone pushed me and we fell to the floor with me on top of Molly to protect her.  At that same time I heard the shot.  I didn’t feel anything but heard the thunk in the wall.
    Now, I pulled my gun and turned.  As I did I saw Billy falling to the floor holding on to his face.  Behind him stood a grim-faced Charlie Gold.  His gun was out and he had cold-cocked Billy before he could get another shot off.
    “Miles!  Get off me!”  
    I had forgotten that we were on the floor, and there was a crowd beginning to form outside the Diner, partly for lunch and partly coming to see what the shooting was all about.  Rolling off Molly, I sat there musing.  Funny how people are.  They want to see action, but from a distance.  It’s okay if it is about someone else, just don’t let it touch them.  Then they’ll wander out to see the scene, and say “Oh my, someone should stop this evil,” not realizing they are part of it by hiding and watching.
    Molly was standing, trying to get herself together as she was a little embarrassed and customers were coming inside.  I was still sitting on the floor.  “Get up, Miles.  You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
    I pulled myself to my feet and walked over to where Charlie was bending over Denton.  He looked up at me and smiled.  “Thanks, Charlie,” I muttered.
    “Jensen, help me!” Charlie ordered to a man who had just sat down at a table.
    “Ah, get someone else, Sheriff.  I just set down to eat.”
    “Go ahead, Mike.  I’ll make sure you get a piece of pie, no charge,” I remarked.
    A brief smile crossed Jensen’s face as he got up to help Charlie.  He reached down and grabbed Billy’s legs to drag him out.
    “Jensen!” exclaimed Charlie.  “He ain’t dead.  Grab him by the shoulders.”
    The three of us lifted Billy up.  He didn’t weigh more than a bale of hay.  “I’ve got him,” said Jensen who threw Billy over his burly shoulders and walked out the door toward the jail.
    “Let me go tuck Billy in his cell and I’ll be back,” said Charlie.  “Oh, and you can get me a free piece of that pie when I return.”
    The commotion had died down.  Marta had come out to check to see if there was any blood on the floor that she needed to clean up.  Molly was already waiting on tables.  I intercepted her as she was heading back toward the kitchen.  “You okay?” I asked, worrying about her head.
    She nodded her head yes, and touched my arm.  “There had better be some pie in the kitchen; I promised Charlie and Mike Jensen a piece for helping us out.”
    “You men and your pie!” she exclaimed, then smiled sashaying into the kitchen.
    I grabbed one of the ceramic cups from the counter and went to pour some coffee before sitting down.  I started to take a sip and thought that with Billy Denton in jail maybe we could get some information about Billington.
    I was starting to relax and I had finished about half my cup when another thought struck me.  “Who pushed us to the floor?”

  I had decided to pick up the money and get back on the train.  That way I would be home sometime the next morning.  I still hadn’t seen Lillian; I wondered if she was still in Santa Fe.  I didn’t think that Billington and the ruffians that took him would be in Taos until afternoon, unless Billington died along the way.  They would have to stop and spend one night on the trail.  It was a couple of days ride and with him in that condition I didn’t think they could make it in less time than that.
    Yes, Durango would be a more fitting place to make my greeting, and I would have Charlie Gold there with me.  I know that the Lord frowns on us being anxious, but I will have to admit I was a wee bit anxious over Molly and how she was doing.
    The pieces were slowly falling into place.  Billington and these men were associates of sorts.  It seems as if he was trying to take off with money that they thought should be theirs.  Now, where did Lillian fit into the picture?  It could be a coincidence that she just happened to be in Durango, but I don’t believe much in coincidences.
    It was a restless night.  I reckon I dozed off a time or two, but really couldn’t call it sleep, especially knowing that I had a valise of $25,000 at my feet that belonged to the bank in Durango.
    We arrived on time and I headed straight for the bank.  As I walked in one of the clerks waved at me.
    “I need to see Mr. Douster,” I said.
    The clerk went to Billington’s office and knocked on the door.  Douster was already taking a step in to banking management.  The clerk came back out followed by Douster.
    Holding out his hand, he walked straight up to me.  “Good to see you Marshal Forrester.”
    “It’s Forrest,” I corrected.  For a man who wants to be a banker he needs to learn his clientele’s names.
    He looked down and smiled, “Ahhh, you found the missing money.  Did you get to talk with Mr. Billington?”
    “Nope, but I figure he’ll be along any day now,” and as I spoke his countenance for a brief instance quickened, but then went back to his normal businesslike manner.
    Reaching out he tried to take the valise from me.  As he touched it, he looked into my eyes and he removed his hand.  “What’s that clerk’s name, Ooverholm, isn’t it?” I asked.  “Get him into the office with us.”
    “That would leave only one clerk to wait on customers,” Douster remarked.
    Looking around I saw that there was no one else in the bank.  “I think that one man can handle this crowd.  Mister Ooverholm, come with us.”
    Walking into what was once Billington’s office I sat the valise down on the desk.  Looking at Ooverholm I order, “Start countin’ and place them in stacks of a thousand,” I paused and looked at Douster.  “Count out loud and slowly.  We will want to see each bill laid down on the table.”
    It took several minutes, but the total came up to $22,800.  I had guessed $25,000.  “You can go now, Ooverholm,” suggested Douster.
    “Hold on!  You need to sign a receipt, both of you and then Mr. Ooverholm, I want to watch you place the money in the safe.”  He complied readily, but there was something about this that disgruntled Douster.
    After watching the money safely put away I started to walk out the bank when I stopped and turned back to Douster.  “Did you know that Billington had a daughter?”
    He needed to clear his throat then muttered, “No, I didn’t know that.”
    “Hmmm, how long have you worked here with him?”
    Douster replied, “Three years.”
    “Strange that he never mentioned one to you working with him for three years.”
    “Well, we really weren’t that close, and we didn’t talk about our personal lives at work.”
    “Smart,” I said, walked out and headed down to the Diner.
    The breakfast rush was just finishing; Molly was waiting on tables with Marta.  She didn’t see me come in so I moseyed on back to my normal table.  I had just poured my coffee and sat down when she looked my direction.  Rushing over to me she flung herself at me.
    “Miles, oh Miles, I was worried,” she sighed.
    I was holding on to her tight, when wouldn’t you know it.  In through the door came…

He stared at me for a few minutes.  I didn’t want to look at his disgusting face, but it was hard not to make eye-contact.  When I did, I saw that insidious smile.  I tried to focus on other things:  the job at hand, Molly’s apple pie, a soothing cup of coffee, I even said a few prayers.  When my eyes moved back to him, he was gone.
    This ride seemed much longer than the one down here with Molly.  The seat seemed harder, my shoulder ached, and I was anxious to get off.  There was an hour delay in Taos so I made the best of the opportunity and went to the Wells Fargo office.  Before leaving Durango I stopped by to see the Judge.  He was not working in his office yet, but doing paperwork and the like from his home.  He gave me a court order for the money that Billington had taken with him.  I told the clerks in the office that I had to go on down to Santa Fe, but would be back in a day or so for the money.
    Wherever I went my eyes would search for Billy Denton.  As soon as I get this money situation cleared up I would be on the trail for him.  He was one of the cowardly punks who thought himself grander than he was.  One of these days I would catch up to him.
    The car I was riding in was packed.  There were families, commotion, and the smells flowing from the people made my stomach churn.  Why, my goodness, I’d rather be riding the trail with a thousand head of cattle than to be packed in with thirty or so dirty humans.  Plus, I had to share my seat with a young kid.  His mother and other siblings were across from me.  
    She would stare and frown at me, letting me know that there was something about me that she disapproved of.  “Must you show that filthy gun in front of the child?” she questioned.
    I jerked my head up.  “Ma’am, I’ll have you know that this here shotgun is cleaner than anyone in this here train car.”  Then I turned to the kid.  “How old are you boy?”
    He shied away from me some then answered.  “Fifteen.”
    Looking back at his mother.  “He’s on the verge of manhood, ma’am.”
    “Hmmpf,” came her reply.
    “Ma’am,” I continued.  “This here Greener has saved more lives than you could count on your fingers and toes.  It’s almost like family to me.”
    “Well, I don’t like it.  Seems like the government should do something about ruffians like you carrying guns around.”
    “Ruffian,” I thought to myself.  Well, I’d been called a few names before, but never ruffian.  Wait until I tell Molly.  Just to be aggravating I took the shotgun from the side where the kid was sitting and put it across my lap.  Ooo-we, the daggers that flung from her eyes.  And she called me the “ruffian.”
    Finally, we pulled into Santa Fe.  I allowed my fellow-passengers to get off and even tipped my hat to the mother I had ruffled.  As I was stepping down I bumped into the young lady I had met earlier.  She smiled and greeted me.  “Hmmm, ruffian,” I thought to myself; she don’t seem to think so.
    I didn’t want to be in town that long even though Santa Fe is a mighty nice place.  They have some fine eateries here, but none can compare to Molly’s cooking, so I wanted to be getting on back to Durango.  I hurried on down to the hospital to see Billington.  As I walked to the nurse at the desk in front I saw the young lady from the train rushing out.
    “Nurse,” I said to get her attention, then showed her my badge.  “I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Miles Forrest and I need to see one of your patients–a Mr. Billington.”
    “Sorry,” she replied.  “He’s no longer with us.”
    “Oh, he died?” there was not much sorrow in my voice.
    “No, just about an hour ago some men came and took him away,” she remarked.  “Here, let me take you to his doctor.”
    We walked down the hall to a room where there was a man at a desk.  “Doctor Lambert, this is Marshal Forrest.  He is asking about Mr. Billington.”  
    He reached out to shake my hand.  “Marshal, just as I told the young lady a few minutes before, he is no longer in the hospital.  There were several rough-looking characters who came to take him away.  I told them he could easily die, that he was not ready to be moved,” he sort of paused to catch his breath, then continued, “I had to amputate his leg from the hip, and some of the flesh from his side.  It could easily start to hemorrhage.”
    “Do you know where they took him?” I asked.
    “Sorry, but no.  When I told his daughter than she became very distraught.”
    “Daughter?…”

Molly was doing better, she even walked down to the train station to see me off.  She would still have dizzy spells, but not as often and she usually did okay as long as she moved slowly.  The Doc had offered her a place to stay at his house, but since she was doing better she declined.  Charlie Gold assured me that he would check in on her often.  With all the recent turmoil, the Council had not appointed a new marshal, so Charlie was staying in Durango more often.
    My plan was to find clues as to where Billy Denton might have taken off to.  I told Molly to keep a sharp lookout for he might just show up back in Durango.  He seemed the type that needed some security and would not venture away from places he knew.  Then I planned to go to Santa Fe and question Billington.  After that I’d come back to Durango, get Star and head out to Denver.
    This trip seemed much longer than the last one.  Of course, Molly was sitting next to me the last time I was down this way.  Lots of things were going on in my mind and I couldn’t seem to focus on any one thing.  The days were getting warmer and that didn’t help the comfort in traveling either.  
    When the train stopped at Chama I got off and walked the same route I did when the shooting took place.  Standing in the same place, I shuddered thinking of how close this was to taking me out.  Then I looked over to where Molly had been standing when she was shot.  I dropped to my knees–there was that lack of focus.  Thoughts swarmed all through my mind.  What if I had lost her?  Why was she shot?  Thankfulness to the good Lord?  Billington?  Denton?  
    “Mister,” there was a soft voice close to me.  “Mister, are you all right?”
    It brought me back to reality.  I must look downright silly there in the train station down on my knees.  Looking toward the person speaking I saw a young woman.  I nodded my head, then stood to my feet.  
    “Yes, ma’am.  There was an attempted murder here a couple of weeks ago.  I was just tryin’ to concentrate on the events an’ get them straight in my mind.”
    She smiled and walked off.  Glancing toward where Denton had been standing I walked there.  I wasn’t expecting to find anything after two weeks but wanted to see things from his viewpoint.  He and Billington were in this together.  I grunted and thought, “Billy would be the one doin’ the back-shootin’.”
    It was almost time for the train to pull out and I wanted a cup of coffee before I boarded.  The prices on the train were ridiculous and the coffee, well, the dishwater at the Diner was stronger than the coffee they served aboard the train.
    Fifteen minutes later, the train was chugging on down the rails toward Taos.  I wanted to thank the doctor and nurse that took care of me and Molly.  Unconsciously I shrugged my shoulders and could still feel the ache and stiffness.  Seemed like it was taking longer for me to heal; might have something to do with getting older.
    Before sitting down I looked through the coach.  It was the same set of passengers that was on it before.  Then I noticed, at the back of the coach was the young woman that spoke to me.  We made eye contact.  I sat down, and as I did a man walked through the door and sat across the aisle from the woman.  He saw me immediately and gave a wide smile.  It had been months since I had seen him; I should’ve figured he had to be around somewhere.  
    I tried to ignore his presence, but the thoughts flooded through my mind again.  “What is he doin’ here?  Is it to harass or is it time?”  I had the seat to myself so I stretched out, pulled my hat down over my eyes as if to sleep.  This was definitely no time for sleep, not with him in the car; this was time for prayer.