“Have you reported everything Marshal Hargadon has uncovered,” Tinsley asked.
“Yes Sir,” Faith retorted. “As closely as I can remember. Mr. Hargadon said I wasn’t to worry if I forgot any small details. Names were the most important and since I have known these men for most of my life. I have not forgotten what was said.”
Freeman looked from Marshal Tinsley to Faith. The man had written down Faith’s statement as she told it. Having completed his assignment he closed his notebook and laid it on top of Tinsley’s desk before leaning back in his chair.
“Who is in town,” Tinsley asked with a look of satisfaction on his face. His confidence in Hargadon had paid off. He now knew the identity of Barlow and was eager to get on with the job of bringing the man to justice.
“Foster and Collingsworth,” Freeman replied.
“Tell them to be ready to leave town in an hour.”
Faith stood and picked up her winter coat. Her mission accomplished she felt a rush of relief. “Mr. Hargadon said you would see me safely back home. I am afraid Father will be angry with me. I did as Mr. Hargadon suggested and did not tell anyone I was coming here.” She turned troubled eyes towards Marshal Tinsley.
“Well, young lady. I think I can straighten out any difficulty with your father. Barlow is a known killer. Royce was right to protect your secret,” Tinsley said in a fatherly manner.
Chapter Twenty Two
Marshal Tinsley knocked on Doctor Thomas’ front door. While he waited for someone to answer his knock he read the posted bulletin. ‘Mr. Hargadon’s condition is improving. No fever this morning.’
“Why the notice,” Marshal Tinsley asked the young woman who opened the door.
With a smile Jane Thomas said, “Mr. Hargadon’s students kept coming by and asking about him. Father despaired of ever getting any work done. So he started posting Mr. Hargadon’s condition morning and evening so they would not have to interrupt his work.”
“I see,” Tinsley replied.
“Is there something I can do for you,” Jane asked.
“I am Marshal Tinsley.”
“Do come in,” Jane said opening wide the front door. “Mr. Hargadon is expecting you. Father says it is alright for him to talk as long as you don’t tire him.”
The room Marshal Tinsley entered was long and narrow with a row of beds along one wall. Two beds were occupied, the one closest to the door by a small boy and the other bed by Royce Hargadon.
“Good to see you Sir,” Royce said. Pushing back his covering he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up.
“Mr. Hargadon,” Jane admonished. “You must not get up. You know Doctor Thomas insists you remain in bed for at least another day. You have been very ill.”
Royce’s look was thunderous. “Stop fussing Jane,” he ordered. “I am feeling perfectly well.”
Jane pressed her lips firmly together with disapproval. She had helped her father long enough to know it was useless to argue with a patient. Especially, one as obstinate as Mr. Hargadon seemed to be. “It was your foolishness that brought on your last attack. All of Doctor Thomas’ pills and potions won’t help if you don’t listen to reason.” Having had her say, Jane turned and hurried out of the room.
“Thank you Jane,” Royce called after her.
Marshal Tinsley carried a chair over and set it beside Royce’s bed. He straddled the chair and rested his arm along the backrest. “I have Turner and Hardin in jail,” Tinsley said pushing back the brim of his hat with one thumb. “That was easy compared to quieting Reverend Gaines. I believed the man was going to shoot me when I showed up with his daughter. I don’t advise you visit him anytime soon.”
“It couldn’t be helped Sir,” Royce replied. “Miss Gaines’ safety had to be ensured.” He looked at Marshal Tinsley. “You said Turner and Hardin. You haven’t arrested Milton Ferguson.”
“The man was not at home,” Tinsley replied discouragement sounding in his voice. “No one has seen him for several days.”
“What does Miss Ferguson say about her brother,” Royce asked.
“That he went hunting,” Tinsley replied, “And should have been back days ago. She denies her brother has anything to do with Barlow. Says Milton is not capable of thinking for himself.”
“I know what I saw,” Royce retorted. “Are you getting any answers out of Turner and Hardin?”
“None,” Tinsley admitted.
Royce stood his long white nightshirt falling around his calves. He reached under his bed and pulled out a cardboard box. “I had Bobby Meyers slip these through the open window. Doctor Thomas took away my clothes. He said I was too obstinate for my own good.” Royce dressed in denim jeans and a green plaid shirt. He folded the nightshirt carefully and placed it on the pillow. “Let’s get out of here before Jane comes back. I do believe she will tie me to the bed frame if she catches me sneaking out.”
Royce found his winter coat and hat on the rack in the parlor. He slipped his hands into the coat sleeves as he walked down the front steps. After turning up his coat’s collar against the cold wind he put his hands in the pockets and found his gloves. Not taking a deep breath until he could no longer see Doctor Thomas’ house.
“What have you learnt from Mayor Pillsdale,” Royce asked finding he was laboring to breathe. The cold wind hurt his lungs.
Marshal Tinsley slowed his steps giving Royce a speculative look. The man was pale beneath his tan his green eyes overly bright. Royce was still weak yet refusing to admit Doctor Thomas was probably correct. He should be in bed.
“Foster was bringing Pillsdale in when Sheriff Walden said I could find you at Doctor Thomas’ infirmary. He
