A NOVEL OF TRAVEL BACK IN TIME
Merry Christmas to all of my 21st Century friends and family. Perhaps, one day, I shall be unfettered from this time travel limbo and rejoin you. In the mean-time, here is the latest development from my sojourn to the 18th Century. God bless us, every one.
The Marshal’s face turned red with a look of terror when I mentioned Captain Mosby’s name.
I knew I had, somehow, struck a nerve. I didn’t want to let the chance slide and pressed my luck by adding further, “I will be glad to send for Captain Mosby to corroborate my statement.”
The Marshal quickly back-peddled, “No, if Captain Mosby gave them to you for your personal protection. Then they are yours.”
I looked the Marshal in the eye, and he looked away. I didn’t know what was going on, but I needed ultimately to get to the bottom of his fear of Mosby. However, that was something that would have to wait.
The Marshal’s deputy suddenly burst into the room and practically shouted, “Jones Gill was one of the bodies, but Seaborne wasn’t the other man killed. It was one of Gill’s old gang, Winston Ellis.”
Caleb and I turned around to face the deputy, and he realized that he had said too much without knowing who was in the office with the Marshal. I turned around quick to face the Marshal, and he gave the deputy a withering glance.
The deputy lamely uttered in a low voice, “I just thought you should know.”
I suddenly realized that I had eradicated only one of the three threats to my life instead of two. It must have shown on my face because the Marshal grinned.
I looked at him, and I grinned also. It must have been disconcerting because the Marshal suddenly said, “Well, I guess that is all I needed to know. Y’all can leave now.”
Caleb and I nodded at the Marshal, walked past the red faced deputy, and headed out the door.
The townspeople had scattered, but there were enough of them to point at Caleb and me and whisper back and forth as we walked toward the doctor’s office. I felt like a bull facing a matador in a corrida, and everyone was taking bets on how long I was going to last.
We made it to the doctor’s office and met with Mrs. Throckmorton and the doctor. The doctor had dressed Joshua’s wounds, but wanted to keep him for the night to make sure the head injuries weren’t going to be permanent. Mrs. Throckmorton was going to stay at the doctor’s office overnight.
Caleb and I headed to the local hotel to share a room for the night.