—“Fame. It is not every day that one gets to meet a character who has stepped from the pages of a book.” He was referring to the Beadles Dime Novels, specifically those written by Prentiss Ingram and featuring Matt Jensen as the protagonist. Matt’s friend Smoke had long been a character in the novels and, through him, Prentiss was made aware of Matt.
Matt chuckled. “Just remember, Trebor, the operative word there is
“That is only because you are too modest,” Trebor said. “I know about your exploits in Wyoming where you single-handedly eliminated the Yellow Kerchief gang and saved the young nephew of Moreton Frewen. What was his name? Winston?”
“Yes, Winston Churchill. He was quite an impressive young man.”
Lucy Dare, a buxom blond with flashing blue eyes and an engaging smile, walked over to join the conversation. So far, the dissipation of her trade had not diminished her looks.
“Lucy, our friend is leaving us today,” Trebor said.
Lucy leaned over Matt’s table, displaying her cleavage. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into staying with us?”
Matt laughed. “No, but you can sure make it damn tempting.”
“I will play something for you before you leave,” Trebor said. “I will play Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto Number One. It is not something the average saloon patron would like but you,
“Thank you,” Matt said. “I am sure I will enjoy it.”
Trebor moved over to the piano and played the piece, losing himself in the sweep and majesty of the concerto. Matt enjoyed it, but knew Trebor enjoyed it more. He used any excuse to play the classical music he loved, rather than the simple ballads he was forced to play night after night.
After his breakfast Matt told his friends good-bye and left the saloon. He’d walked about a block when a man suddenly stepped in front of him and pointed a gun.
“Give me all your money,” the armed man demanded.
“Now why would I want to do that?”
“Why? Because if you don’t, I’ll blow a hole in your stomach big enough to let your guts fall out.” To emphasize his threat, the man thrust the pistol forward until the barrel of the gun was jammed into Matt’s stomach.
That was a mistake. Matt reached down and clamped his hand around the pistol, locking the cylinder tightly in his grip.
His assailant tried to pull the trigger, but it wasn’t possible with the cylinder locked in place. He looked down in surprise, and Matt brought his left fist up in a wicked uppercut. The man relaxed his grip on the pistol as he went down, and it wound up in Matt’s hand.
Bending down to check the robber’s pulse, Matt saw the man was still breathing. He waited until the man came to, then walked him, at gunpoint, down the street to the office of the Claro City Marshal.
“Well, now, hello Percy,” the marshal said when Matt turned his prisoner over to him. “It didn’t take you long to get back in jail, did it? I just let you out this morning.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Percy complained. “I didn’t even have enough money to buy breakfast.”
“If you had asked me for enough money to buy breakfast, I would have given it to you,” Matt offered. “But pointing a gun at me doesn’t put me in the sharing mood.”
When Matt went to the depot later that day, he found there was, indeed, a telegram waiting for him.
DUFF MACALLISTER AT SUGARLOAF STOP COME
SPEND CHRISTMAS WITH US STOP SMOKE
Matt had to pay for only two words in his return telegram.
WILL DO
He smiled at the thought of spending Christmas with Smoke, Sally, and Duff. Sally was a very good cook, particularly bear claws, an almond flavored, yeast-raised pastry that was the best Matt had ever tasted. He turned his thoughts to Christmas, which was supposed to be spent with family. But he had no family.
His parents and sister had been murdered when he was a boy. After spending some time in a brutal orphanage, he ran away in the dead of winter and would have frozen to death if Smoke Jensen hadn’t found him and taken him in. Smoke was the nearest thing to a family Matt had, so much so that he had taken Smoke’s last name as his own.
It would be good to spend Christmas with his old friend, and Sally’s home-cooked meals would make it even nicer.
Matt extended his ticket from Denver to Pueblo, putting him in Pueblo at eight o’clock in the evening on the nineteenth, just in time to connect with the last train to Big Rock. That trip would require going through Trout Creek Pass over the Mosquito Range, a part of the Rocky Mountains.
He boarded the train at ten o’clock on the morning of the 17th of December for what the schedule said would be a two-and-a-half-day trip to Pueblo.
Jenny McCoy entered the train station at seven o’clock in the evening and bought a ticket on the Red Cliff Special, due to leave at nine. The judge had given her one week to settle her affairs and leave town, but it had taken her only three days.
That didn’t leave time for Adele to write to her brother and receive a reply, so she wrote a personal and impassioned letter she gave to Jenny.
“Show my brother this letter. He’s a good man with a good heart. When he reads this he and his wife will take you in, and if he can’t find work for you in his own store, I’ve no doubt that he will help you find employment.”
“Thank you, Adele. I don’t know what I would have done in this town if it hadn’t been for you. I don’t know how I would have made a living.”
“It is I who should thank you. You were a wonderful and classy addition to my business. I’m just sorry things turned out as they did. The judge had no right to order you out of town.”
“I have made some good friends here, you especially, and I’m sorry to leave them.”
“Someday you may come back, and when you do, remember that I will always count you as a dear friend.” Adele hugged Jenny and left the station.
With Adele’s letter secure in her purse, Jenny bought a newspaper, then settled in a seat near one of the roaring potbellied stoves and began to read the
MOUNTAIN TOWNS REPORT CONTINUAL SNOWFALL
Reports from the mountains show a snowstorm has been in progress several days, thus far without serious or unusual results. The storm is most severe in Eagle County, where snow is several feet deep and drifting. So far all passes are still open for trains.
At nine o’clock of the morning, the temperature was two below zero and growing colder. Those who watch the weather say Christmas Day will be very cold. That Christmas will be white is surely to be a joy to the children of the city, who will hope to see “Santa Claus” and his sleigh.
