“Well, now, I suppose a piece of cherry pie would be good. And another cup of coffee, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll bring it right out,” the waiter promised.
As the waiter walked away, Kyle saw someone approaching his table. The man had unkempt silver hair and clothes that were disheveled, absolute indications that he was down on his luck. Kyle was sure the man was coming to ask him for enough money to buy a drink, and anxious to get rid of him, he reached into his pocket for a nickel. He held the coin out toward the man as he reached the table.
“Here you go, friend,” he said. “Have a drink on me.”
“Thank you, but no,” the man replied. “I’ve been six days without a drink, and I hope never to take another.”
“You don’t say,” Kyle said, surprised by the man’s pronouncement. “Well, then, what can I do for you?”
“Did the governor send you?” the man asked. “Are you here in response to my letter?”
“No,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “I don’t know anything about a letter.”
“Oh,” the man said, obviously disappointed. “You are a U.S. marshal, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I was sure you had come in response to my letter.”
“What letter would that be?”
“You are a U.S. marshal?”
“Yes. I’m Marshal Ben Kyle.”
“Marshal Kyle, my name is Robert Dempster. I am an attorney.”
“An attorney?” Kyle asked, obviously surprised by the man’s announcement. Then, realizing how that must’ve sounded, he apologized. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound—”
“That’s all right,” Dempster said quickly. “There is no need to apologize. I realize that I make less than a sterling impression. I wonder, Marshal, if I might have a few words with you?”
At that moment the waiter brought the pie and coffee.
“Won’t you join me, Mr. Dempster?” Kyle asked. “Waiter, bring another piece of pie and a cup of coffee.”
“There’s no need for you to—” Dempster began.
“Please, join me,” Kyle said.
“All right,” Dempster agreed. “I don’t mind if I do.”
“Another slice of pie and another cup of coffee,” Kyle said again.
“Are you sure it’s coffee you want?” the waiter asked, looking at Dempster with obvious disdain.
“I believe I said coffee,” Kyle said, his voice showing his irritation with the waiter’s rudeness.
“Yes, sir, right away,” the waiter responded.
“I’m sorry for that man’s insolence,” Kyle said.
“Don’t blame him,” Dempster replied. “I’ve brought this on myself.”
“You say you are a lawyer?”
“Yes.”
“What—uh—what brought on this—this present condition? Wait, never mind it’s none of my business. You don’t have to answer that.”
The waiter delivered the pie and coffee, and then withdrew without a word.
“It’s all right,” Dempster said, holding his response to Kyle until after the waiter left. “I can see why one might be curious.”
Dempster added a copious amount of sugar and cream to his coffee, then stirred it with a spoon for a long moment, as if gathering his thoughts.
“Back in Missouri, I was a circuit judge,” he said.
“That’s quite an honorable position.”
“Yes,” Dempster said. “Which makes the fact that I dishonored it even more reprehensible.”
“You took a bribe?”
“In a manner of speaking, I suppose you could say that,” Dempster said. “I was trying a murder case when some friends of the defendant informed me that if I did not find some way to free their friend, they would kill my family and me.”
“And did you find some way to free the defendant?”
“Yes, I did just as they asked.”
“Well, if your family was in danger, I don’t know as too many people can blame you.”
Dempster took a drink of his coffee. “Only it didn’t help,” he said quietly.
“What?”
