Marshal Johnson of Silverton has confronted Miles when one of his deputies was arrested for assault on Miles. In the attempt, Deputy Phin Duggan was shot, maybe killed. Miles was held up in the Wells Fargo office until the next morning when he planned on taking his prisoner, Deputy Tom Devlin, to Durango. Can Johnson afford to let Miles and his prisoner leave Silverton? Join me in another exciting tale of yesteryear in the Saga of Miles Forrest.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was 7:00 when I heard a key in the door of the office. I brought my shotgun to bear, but figured it was one of the agents opening up. It was Dale Courtney, who I found was quite intelligent for he opened the door very slowly.
“Marshal Forrest, it’s Agent Courtney. I’m alone,” he hollered before opening the door all the way. After entering he closed and locked the door, then glanced around the room. “I’ll make some coffee,” he said matter of factly and went right to it.
Getting up from where I had been sitting I went to open the door where I kept Devlin overnight. I imagine that he was pretty uncomfortable in that dark room, lying on the hard floor. Upon opening the door, he threw his hands to cover his eyes; even the dull light from the office was brilliant to him.
Reaching down I grabbed where he was handcuffed and helped haul him to his feet. “Coffee will be ready in a few minutes, then you and I have to take a walk up to Giles’ livery to get my horse,” I paused, looking him over wondering how well he slept. “Train leaves in about two hours.”
Courtney went over to a shelf picking up three cups, then over to the stove where he had the coffee on. It was quiet in the office; the only thing that could be heard was the shuffling around of Courtney.
As he handed me a cup of the hot brew, I asked, “How’s Morgan gettin’ along?”
He gave another cup to Devlin, then took a sip of his own before answering. “He was still hurting last night. Ron took over for me and stayed the night,” was his reply. Then he added, “I’m sorry, I should have brought some breakfast. I can run out and get something.”
“This is fine,” I assured him. “We have to be leavin’ in a few minutes anyway.”
The eyes of Agent Courtney widened. “You can’t go out there! Marshal Johnson will have you killed!”
I smiled, “I’m a hard man to kill, but the eyes of the Lord are upon me. Even if He would lead me through the valley of the shadow of death, which this might well be, I won’t fear.”
Courtney sort of sneered when he answered. “Nice to have faith like that.”
“It sure is. Nice to be able to trust in Someone a whole lot bigger than yurself,” I replied. “Drink up, Devlin, we have a walk to make.”
I thought I saw a flash of fear in Devlin’s eyes. But in a few minutes, our coffee finished, I had him up and at the door. “Tell Morgan I’ll see him in a few days.”
As we walked out, I heard the voice, “If you live that long enough.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” I said aloud to myself as we began to walk up the street toward the livery.
I didn’t see any of Johnson’s men on the way. In fact, there was little movement along Greene Street. Arriving at Giles, I had to smile. He already had Hawk saddled. “Figured you’d want him to be ready for yur escape,” he said with a cackle.
“Be seein’ you in a couple of days,” I responded after I mounted. I had placed my rope around Devlin’s neck, then looped it around his shoulders. He wouldn’t be running away anytime soon.
I rode easy, the Greener in my right hand pointed toward the sky. I was wondering what was going through Devlin’s mind when men appeared on the street. It was about a block from the train depot. Johnson and two others were in the street, spread apart. I took a fleeting, yet thorough glance around. To my right was a man standing behind a post. To my left another was standing next to the corner of a building and an alley. Five all together, if not more, and all spread out. Not to my liking.
A chuckle escaped me, I remembered the words from the Man at the camp. “I’m going to stir things up a bit.” Ha, He sure got that right. Since He was doing some stirring I reckoned He was there to help me take a taste.
“What’s so funny, Forrest?” came the question from the mouth of Marshal Johnson. “You’re not taking my deputy to Durango on false charges.”
That’s when I lowered the Greener, pulled back both hammers, and leveled it at Johnson. “You want him, you untie him.” I challenged.
I didn’t think he was fool enough…