Father Damian Cisneros had been severely beaten and warnings left on him in symbolic fashion. As of yet Miles Forrest, nor Mateo or Charlie Gold had any idea what they meant as the priest had not regained consciousness. It had been three days since the attack on him. Join with me for another thrilling episode and return to those exciting days of yore with the Saga of Miles Forrest.
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Rev. Chapman and his wife Betty arrived on the morning train and he wasted no time in coming to see the unconscious priest. Doc Jones had thought it best to leave him on his own bed and not try to move him with his skull bashed the way it was. It was great the way the community rallied around him. Catholic and non both joined in to stay by his bedside. Doc had given instructions that if he regained consciousness to call him immediately.
Molly happened to be sitting with him, and I had brought her some sandwiches to eat when the Parson showed up. Briefly I filled him in on what had taken place. From time to time he would shake his head, and the concern was etched on his face.
“You have no idea who did this?” he questioned as he looked down on the still form on the bed.
Sighing, I shook my head before answering, “I don’t know who did it, but I have a pretty good idea who was behind it. Problem is I have no proof. I’m hoping that when the padre wakens he might shed some light on the culprits.”
Parson Chapman stepped up to the bed. “Molly, do you mind if I sit there and pray for him?”
“No, of course not,” she softly replied, getting up to come stand by my side.
The cuts and abrasions were better, but his face still showed the color of black, blue and yellow from the beating. The Parson lifted his hand to look closely at the X that was now beginning to scab over. The pardre’s head was covered with a white bandage and Molly kept a soft cloth over his eyes per Doc’s instructions.
As the preacher began to pray, Molly bowed her head to join in silent agreement with him. I stared at the man lying in almost lifeless condition on the bed following an adage that I had picked up years ago from the Good Book–“watch and pray.” I found in my business it doesn’t pay to close one’s eyes, and I was sure that the Lord would hear my prayers, eyes open or shut.
The Parson bent low, next to the padre’s head, praying softly for about fifteen minutes. Then he lightly touched all around his head. Finishing, he turned to look up at us. There was a faint smile on his face. “I feel assured that the Lord heard our prayers. It may take a while, but the good father will be all right.”
He stood and Molly retained her position by the bed. The Parson came to stand by me. “So I take it you think Amos Martin had something to do with this?”
I hesitated to answer but then said, “I do, and if he does you may be on his list.”
Putting his hand on my shoulder he said, “I will take care and I’d best be getting back to Betty. She’ll want to know what is going on.” He looked at Molly, “Put her on the list to sit with the father, I’m sure she would want that.”
I stayed with Molly until one of the ladies from the barrio came to take her place. Mateo was with her and introduced us. I found that the woman was a distant cousin of his. We left her with the priest as Mateo went on with his rounds and I walked Molly home.
“Miles!” she exclaimed pointing at our cabin. “Look!”
Lifting my eyes to our little place I was taken back and was aghast with…