Let’s go back once more to those thrilling days of yesteryear. Miles Forrest is with Molly in the Colorado mining town of Central City awaiting the arrival of President Chester A. Arthur.
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“Molly I hate to leave you alone and I don’t want you wanderin’ this place all by your lonesome. Would you mind staying at the boardin’ house while I meander through town? I need to do some snoopin’ before the President’s entourage arrives tomorrow.”
She smirked at me, “Only on one condition.” I pulled slightly back wondering what she was going to say. “That you’ll take me shopping either here or in Denver before we head for home.”
I smiled, replying, “I can surely do that.”
That brightened her face, but then it quickly turned sullen. “What’s wrong? I thought that would make you happy.”
Heaving a deep sigh, “It’s not that Miles, but but you always get into trouble. Take those three men, they could have killed you.”
I tried to shrug off her remark. “Molly, it would take more than three like that to put me down.”
She stared at me for long seconds. “Just the same, you be careful!”
We were both puffing when we finally made it up the hill to Ma Jones’ boarding house. She happened to be sitting on the porch watching us with a grin. “That’s quite a walk, but turn around and look. From here you can see most of the city. I enjoy sitting out here early in the morning to watch it wake up. Though it really don’t sleep much. Those saloons and other dives stay open most of the night with the miners coming and going. The shifts at the larger mines get over around midnight so those men head straight to those hideous places. Wish we could get a law passed outlawing those types of places.”
Molly was nodding at her. “For sure it would help the homes.”
I gave her a peck on the cheek, then headed on down the stairs toward the town below. I heard Ma Jones telling Molly to follow her inside and she would make them some tea.
Ma Jones was right about one thing–evil begets evil. Drunkenness can lead to poverty and abuse in the home. It can also lead to crime. A drunk man walking the dark street is prey for other forms of evil lurking in the shadows of the alleyways. Most of the time it is just a knock on the head and the person’s pockets are pilfered, but many times its a knife in the back and a throat slashed. Gold is bright and shiny, but it causes man to do dark and evil deeds.
I went back to the Silver Slipper to just stand around and listen to the gossip. I didn’t care much for those places, especially the more seedy ones. They smelled of beer, liquor, urine, and vomit. For the life of me, I don’t understand what gets into a man who wants to mess up his mind and perhaps his life with that devil’s brew.
I spent the next several hours going from one place to another. I could gather that there was some excitement from the better citizens of the town over the President coming. Most of the common workers didn’t care one way or another. In fact, contrary to the truth of the matter, the President was a good target for their misfortunes. It was not their poor choices in life, but the President caused their condition.
Always an excuse. I had heard most of them from the many years of bringing criminals to justice. “Not my fault,” I had heard that over and over. Who pulled the trigger, Willy Winkle? Guess they will always make excuses. Pull them out of the gutter, throw them in a cell to dry out for the night, but what of the money they spent that should have gone to their wife for food?
I happened to be standing in front of the stage station when I noticed a man, who looked like a clerk, running toward the Teller House holding a piece of paper. He rushed through the doors. I thought it best that I follow what seemed to be something urgent. As I entered I heard…