Marshal!” the voice sounded frantic. “Come quick!”
Jimmy Hopkins ran up the hill to where Molly and I were standing. When he got to us he couldn’t speak, he was so out of breath from his exertion. “Slow down,” I ordered.
He looked up at me, I could see that he was crying. “Marshal, it’s terrible. The…the preacher has been shot!” he said, still puffing hard.
I grabbed the Greener that was against the stall and started to run, then stopped abruptly. “Where is he?”
Jimmy pointed, “At his place.”
“Hurry, Miles. I’ll be along shortly,” said Molly as she knelt before the quivering boy.
I knew better than to run headlong into possible trouble so I slowed down about a block before reaching the little church where my good friend, Dale Chapman was pastor. He and Betty had a small parsonage attached to the back of the church. There was a flock of people outside, Theo Howell was at the top of the steps keeping them from getting in the home.
Pushing people aside, I went on up the steps. Howell nodded at me, “Go on in Miles!”
Upon entering the little living room, I saw Betty lying on the sofa with Edith Jones attending her. Pastor Chapman was sitting in a chair with Doc Jones tending a bloody wound on his shoulder. I rushed toward him, then stumbled–there was a body on the floor.
The Parson must have heard me for he looked up, tears in his eyes. “I killed him, Miles. I shot him down like a rabid dog…” he stopped – whether it was him catching the vindictiveness in his voice or Doc working on his shoulder, but I saw pain etched on his face. There was a pistol lying on the floor next to the chair.
“Let me finish Miles, then you can ask him your questions,” commanded Doc. “Hush up now, let me finish,” he said, putting his attention to the Parson.
I took a couple of steps to where Edith was with Betty. Standing near here, I said in a hushed tone, “She all right?”
Edith was holding her hand, Betty was pale and looked to be frightened most out of her wits. When I spoke Edith nodded. “Just a terrible scare. She’s all right,” then added, “at least physically.”
When I had that assurance I turned to the body on the floor. He had a hood over his face that looked like a flour sack. The preacher had shot him right in the throat causing a puddle of blood to be on the floor. I pulled off the hood to look at the face of a man who would harm a preacher of God’s word. I didn’t know him, possibly I’d seen him around town, but he wasn’t a common citizen.
“There were three of them,” came the voice of Rev. Chapman. “I shot him and one other. I guess with the shots they thought they should get away before people started showing up,” he paused as Doc finished stitching him up.
“They were threatening Betty,” he said with tears flowing again. “I didn’t have a choice, they, they were going to…”
I went to him, putting my hand on his shoulder. “You did the right thing,” I assured him. “What did they want?”
“Did I?” he questioned. “I’m a preacher of the Gospel. I didn’t turn the other cheek. I just found my gun and started shooting.”
He dropped his head into his hands, until he winced from the movement from his injured shoulder. “Miles, they wanted to know where Javier and Agatha were living.”
I took a couple of quick steps towards the door, when Doc jumped up between me and the door. “Don’t do anything rash. We’ll find the wounded man. Pastor thinks his bullet hit him in the leg or hip. He’ll be needing a doctor.”
Theo came in the door, “Miles, you best be gettin’ out here to settle down this crowd.” He glanced down at the body on the floor, “Why that’s Bart Feakes. He and his brother Lester were in the store just yesterday.” He paused, his eyes getting wide, “they were purchasing…”