There is a lawless element controlling Silverton. Miles Forrest and Charlie Gold are moving to curtail it or eliminate it completely. One man is dead already, and another severely beaten. How will Sheriff Gold, Miles and their fellow law officer Mateo Ramirez handle the situation, or can they? Join in for another thrilling adventure in the days of yesteryear.
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Charlie and I stepped out onto the platform of the station. Saddlebags over our shoulders, Charlie carrying a rifle, myself a shotgun, and as we started walking down the street our badges glistened in the sun. It was hot, especially for this altitude. Perhaps that’s what the Master meant when He told me at camp that He was going to stir things up.
We walked a block up to the Wells Fargo office. Mateo was to join us there sometime this afternoon. When we stepped into the office the first thing I noticed was that all three agents were there. I went over to where Morgan Appleby was standing and reached out my hand. His face was a sickening yellow color as it was beginning to heal from when he was beat up. The last time I saw him, it was swollen, one eye completely shut, split lip, and was a mixture of indigo, black, and blue.
Morgan was a good man. He had been at this office for Wells Fargo for some time now. I worked with him in the past both as an agent for Wells Fargo and Deputy U.S. Marshal. The other two agents seemed to be capable men: Dale Courtney and Ron Barnes, who cared for Morgan when he was laid up in bed.
I eyed him over, “One thing for sure, that ugly mug of yours is pretty as it changes colors. How’re you feelin’?”
Instead of reaching out to shake my hand he raised his fist as if to strike me. I feigned fear, and then he laughed, grabbing my hand and giving it a good shake, then cringed. “It still hurts when I laugh,” he half moaned, half laughed. “Doc said I most likely had a couple of broken ribs.”
Charlie nodded at the two agents then walked over to where Morgan and I were standing. Charlie shook Morgan’s hand and asked, “You sure you couldn’t recognize any of them?”
“Ha, I wish. I might be able to recognize their boots though,” he said with another laugh. He turned somber then, “There was a killing night before last.”
Charlie and I looked at each other, he then encouraged Morgan to continue. “Ron Ferguson, he and his wife, Carol, own a fabric store in town. I really don’t know much of anything about it.”
“Shot?” I questioned.
Morgan shook his head. “No, beat to death. He’s a little man, didn’t take much. I talked briefly to Dr. Staster. Upon examination he said that Ferguson had a broken jaw, the bones around his eyes were broken, and a cracked skull. At that time, he wasn’t sure if he was killed when his skull was broken or if some of the bones around his eyes penetrated his brain.”
“Marshal’s deputies?” inquired Charlie.
Morgan gave him a skeptical look. “No one knows, but you figure. Nothing was stolen, money was still in the register,” he said, then sighed. “I guess we’ll really never know the whys and whats of it. I just feel sorry for Carol.”
“Marshal Forrest,” came the voice of Ron Barnes. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Want a cup?”
“Yes, yes,” implored Morgan, “put your gear over on that table. Sit yourselves down. Ron, bring them a cup.”
Now, I hadn’t replied that I wanted a cup of coffee, but then, who was I to refuse one? “Beware of that first sip,” warned Agent Courtney. “The water’s right from the Animas river, gold sludge and all.”
Charlie looked over at him with a frown, all I did was smile. But upon first taste, there was a metallic flavor. Maybe…
We were both on our second cup of coffee. Morgan and his men went back to their work, and we waited for Mateo to show up. I had just placed by cup on the desk next to me, when Mateo entered through the door. He came over to us as soon as he entered the office. Eyes wide, he began, “We’re sure gonna need the help of God…”.