Sheriff Charlie Gold and Mateo Ramirez left Silverton with their prisoner Thurman “Tioga” Cavendish leaving Miles in Silverton. The marshal of Silverton had been running a protection racket, and the first person that Miles had arrested had been shot down by a rifleman on a rooftop which Tioga proclaimed was Smokey Fountain. Miles had hidden himself in the file room of the Wells Fargo office and his plan was to confront and arrest Fountain, and possibly Marshal Johnson. Miles remembered that the Man at his campfire said He was going to stir things up in Silverton. Come, join with me, as we go back to those thrilling days of yesteryear and the Saga of Miles Forrest.
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I must have dozed again while sitting in a chair with my feet propped up. The darkness of the night had settled in, and I searched for the clock in the office. The time was ten minutes ’til midnight. It was time for me to be moving out into the town.
In the darkness I checked the Greener to make sure it was loaded, then felt for extra shells in my vest pocket of which there were six. My hand then pulled my pistol and I checked the loads in it. I hoped to pull this off without gunplay and bloodshed, but I wasn’t going among the Philistines unprepared. “Lord,” I prayed, “You’ve got to give me discernment and courage. Guide my steps, and if I have to shoot, may my aim be true.” I picked up my jacket, then placed it on the table. It would be cool outside, but I didn’t want to be hampered in my movements.
My plan was to walk back toward the station a half block then move up the darken street toward the top of Blair Street then work my way down. I had one major problem, I didn’t know what Smokey Fountain looked like. I doubted that Johnson would be on the street this late at night; he would let his deputies take care of the work. But again, with the commotion we caused earlier in the day he might be roaming around.
I had just turned the corner when I heard shots back west of the office. In Silverton that didn’t mean much, but it usually came from Blair Street or the surrounding streets. Suddenly, I knew what the shots were. Johnson was attacking either Appleby or Barnes’ homes. I rushed toward the sound of the firing, not caring if I was seen or not. I had to get there in time to help these two loyal men.
They lived only a block apart, so I headed to Barnes’ which was the closest. I saw movement in the darkness, then a crash as his door was kicked open. I expected to see a flash from the gun of Barnes, but nothing happened. I moved closer, there were three men standing at the doorway. I figured there was a man posted out back in case Barnes decided to run that way.
There was some hesitation with the men, and I didn’t blame them. Shots had been fired, they were entering a darkened house and who knows what could be awaiting them. I saw one start to cross the threshold; I decided it was time to make myself known.
“Throw up your hands! You’re under arrest!” I hollered.
I heard a curse, then one turned trying to locate me in the shadows. “I’m Deputy Mercer with Deputies Fountain and Black. Stay away, this is official business!”
“This is official business too,” I returned, drawing my pistol and firing at the door frame.
Mercer dropped to a knee, while the other deputy pushed inside with the man who had already entered. “This is Deputy U.S. Marshal Miles Forrest, throw down your weapons!”
There was another oath, a shot fired out where they thought I may be, then I heard a shot from inside. Barnes! Another shot, I hollered again, “Throw down your weapons and come out!”
They rushed out, firing as they came, one deputy dragging his leg. The Lord had led Fountain to me, now He needed to help me keep him alive. I only knew where Mercer was. They were shooting trying to make their escape. I took a kneeling position and fired low, at their legs. They were hard to see in the darkness; if they would have kept still they probably would have gotten away. I hit one of them, then my bullet thudded in one of the others and I heard a deep groan. They were hurt, but not out of the play. As far as I know Mercer was the only one unscathed, and I couldn’t locate him.
“Last chance, throw down your guns and raise your hands!”
I heard two guns land on the ground. Either one was hurt too severely or was keeping his gun. “Stand up and move toward me,” I yelled.
One man moved in my direction, limping badly. “Black is down, he can’t move,” the man uttered.
“Are you Fountain?”
“Deputy Fountain, to you,” came his blunt reply.
“Well, Deputy Fountain, you’re under arrest for the murder of Tom Devlin!”
I didn’t want to say more as I kept my ears alert for any sound. Mercer was still unaccounted for. After a few minutes, I moved to handcuff Fountain when there was a shot off to my left and a cry. “Don’t shoot Miles, it’s Barnes. I just took care of Mercer.”
“Go get a lamp, I want to check out their wounds,” I said, stepping forward. I could see that Fountain was bleeding from a wound above his right knee. There was a form on the ground. When Barnes brought out the lamp I knelt to see that Black had bled out from where my bullet took him just below the breastbone.
I would deal with Johnson another time. At least I had Fountain, now to get him to Durango…