* * * * *
Snow covered the walk when Faith closed the front door to the Rooming House. The air was crisp as she walked down the front steps pulling gloves over her hands. Mrs. Paige had told her Marshal Tinsley’s office was just off Main Street and two doors down from the Cattleman’s Bank. She would not have any trouble finding the office.
Faith opened the white gate and resisted an impulse to glance back. She was sure Mrs. Paige was watching through the front window. The woman had been kind if somewhat distant in her treatment. A proper woman, Joe had called Mrs. Paige. Snobbery was the word Faith would have used. The woman was sure Faith was a fallen woman committing unspeakable sins with Marshal Hargadon.
Breathing deeply of the cold air Faith knew she could not dispel the woman’s low opinion of her. Whatever she said would not be believed. Why this fact bothered her, she was not sure. Opinions mattered. She had been taught this belief her entire life. Now, to be considered less than genteel was disturbing.
Shrugging off her misgivings Faith walked towards Main Street. The town of Carrington City was little different than Junction City. The general store took up one entire block with a sign painted on the front of the building. Billings General Store. The Newspaper Office was a corner building. The hats displayed in the Millinery Shop window were different and yet very similar to the ones on display in Mrs. Hock’s window.
Faith looked for the Cattleman’s Bank. Discovering it was a brick building three blocks down and across the road. The Marshal’s Office was a small establishment on the side street. Taking a deep breath for courage Faith opened the door and stepped inside.
The man seated behind the desk was middle aged. He wore wire rimmed spectacles. Black hair on top of his head was thinning. He stood when Faith entered the room unfolding his tall lean frame. His arms seemed overly long and he tugged on the cuffs of his shirtsleeves. “What can I do for you,” he asked in a deeply timbered voice.
Faith glanced around the room before walking across the space separating them. “I’ve come to see Marshal Tinsley,” Faith said.
Marshal Freeman turned bright red his blue eyes spellbound by Faith’s beauty. He swallowed before leaning towards Faith as if to check to see if his eyes were telling him the truth. “Are you real,” he asked.
“What,” Faith asked, mystified by the man’s reaction.
“Are you real,” Marshal Freeman repeated.
Faith frowned at the man. “Of course I am real,” she declared.
“Do you mind if I touch you,” Freeman asked, “I want to see for my self.”
Faith extended one hand.
“I’ll be,” Marshal Freeman exclaimed. “I was feared I was seeing things.” He scratched the top of his balding head.
“Now that I have established the fact that I am real may I see Marshal Tinsley,” Faith asked.
“Is Tinsley expecting you,” Freeman replied.
“No,” Faith said. “I have come with a message.”
“Who sent you,” Freeman asked. He had not glanced away from Faith since the moment she entered the office.
“I was told I must talk only with Marshal Tinsley,” Faith said. “I was given his description.” Freeman rubbed one hand over his chin. He leaned towards Faith. “We have established the fact that I am real,” Faith reminded.
“Yes Miss,” Freeman said doubtfully.
The door opened and a medium height man came out of his office. He had brown hair and eyes with a ragged scar over his right eyebrow. “Marshal Tinsley,” Faith said. A feeling of relief washed over her. She was beginning to think the other man was either a halfwit or touched in the head. “I am Faith Gaines,” she said extending one hand towards the Marshal.
“Faith Gaines from Junction City,” Tinsley asked.
“Yes Sir. I have a message I am to deliver only to you,” Faith replied.
“Marshal Hargadon sent you,” Tinsley guessed and was rewarded with a faint smile from Faith.
“Yes Sir. He described you and said I was not to talk with anyone else.”
“I was wondering why I haven’t heard from Royce,” Tinsley said.
“I am sure you’ve heard about the Mail Stage robberies,” Faith began. “Mr. Hargadon believes they were committed so that his letters would not reach you.”
“Then he has had success,” Tinsley declared. Faith looked at Marshal Freeman and did not answer. “You are to report to me,” he said, “And no one else.”
“Yes Sir,” Faith replied.
“Bring a notepad and come inside,” Tinsley told his junior officer. “Lock the front door first.”
“Yes Sir.”
His hand on Faith’s elbow Marshal Tinsley escorted her into his office. He saw that she was seated comfortably before his desk. “Now Miss Gaines if you will give us Hargadon’s report.”
Faith settled onto the chair seat and folded her hands together in her lap. “First I would like to say, Mr. Hargadon has been wounded. When he asked me to come he said it was because he did not want Milton Ferguson to suspect he had discovered the man’s true identity or Mr. Ferguson would leave town. I am sure Mr. Hargadon asked me to come because he is still suffering from his wound and was afraid he could not successfully make the journey.”
“I see,” Marshal Tinsley said. He reached for his pipe and gripped the stem between his teeth. “Do you mind,” he asked before lighting the pipe.
“I don’t mind,” Faith replied. “Father smokes a pipe.” She waited until Marshal Tinsley had his pipe lit before continuing. “Mr. Hargadon said I wasn’t to write anything
