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**A Tale from the Journals of Abe Wheeler**

November 12, 1912

            Being a fairly voracious reader, especially now that I’m retired, I’m always on the lookout for new books which pique my interest. Some years ago, I recall reading a book by the famous Pinkerton detective, Charlie Siringo, entitled “A Texas Cowboy,” an apparently autobiographical tale which I found intriguing. A short time ago, I came across a recent publication, “A Cowboy Detective,” by Siringo, and while it claimed to be a fictional story, it was clear to me that he had drawn upon his experiences as a detective in the Pinkerton Agency to write the book. It was with some trepidation that I read it since I had a tale of my own which I was afraid might’ve made it into the book.

**************

            It was early fall 1898, and I was still working part-time as Deputy of Special Investigations in Carson City, Nevada. Sheriff Allen Gentry had discussed with me his intentions to not run for reelection, and I was seriously contemplating retirement myself; although I found it to be a very difficult decision to make. My wife, Emily, was in favor of it, of course, but she understood my reticence and didn’t push me on the matter.

            Late one afternoon I decided to stop in at the Pine Nut Tavern to have a beer and seek the counsel of my friend, Chief Growling Bear, who usually had insight into matters I found tough to fathom or decide upon. (While Janey Ryan was often my confidante and sounding board, sometimes a man just needs another man’s perspective, especially when it comes to one’s livelihood.) Entering the dimly lit saloon, I scanned the bar area and found that the old Chief wasn’t yet there, so I took a seat at a table instead after signaling Running Fox, the bar maid, to bring me my usual mug of beer.

            Once in hand, I took a long swig of the chilled bitter brew and glanced around at the patrons, a few of whom waved in greeting. The proprietor, Chester Lone Wolf, who stood stoically behind the bar with his arms crossed over his chest, also nodded a greeting and I saluted in return just as a boy of indeterminate age came scurrying from the back room with a tray of clean glasses and mugs clutched in his hands. He was wearing a shirt and trousers a few sizes too big for him, and he walked with his head down so I could see his long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The boy had a furtive look about him, and when he hazarded a glance my way, his eyes went wide and he slammed down the tray behind the bar and quickly disappeared once more into the back room.

            Curious, I stopped Running Fox, who had just delivered a tray of beverages to a nearby table.

            “Who is that boy?” I inquired. “I don’t recall seeing him here before.”

            “Um, well…” she began as she slid into the chair next to me. “We are not quite sure, Deputy. He cannot… or does not… speak. I found him outside in the alley a couple of nights ago, digging through the trash for food. He was scared and very hungry, so I brought him inside and gave him some jerky to eat. His clothes were in tatters, covered in what appeared to be mud and blood, so I took him home with me and gave him a shirt and trousers to wear that had belonged to my younger brother. My husband would not let him stay with us, though, so I brought him back here with blankets to bed on in Chester’s office. Chester was not happy about it, but agreed to let the boy sleep here, and also offered to let him to work for a few days to earn a little money so he can go on his way.”

            “You should’ve told me about him, Running Fox,” I lightly admonished. “He might be in some kind of trouble that I can help with. You say he hasn’t spoken, though? But he seems to understand English?”

            “Yes, that is correct,” Running Fox agreed. “Although he does not understand Washoe, so he must be from another tribe. I am not sure he can speak, but it also might be that he is too scared or chooses not to. He is very skittish.”

            “I noticed that,” I stated. “He seemed to be frightened of me the moment he spotted me.”

            “I… think it might be your badge,” Running Fox pointed out. “You do not usually wear it in here.”

            “No, I don’t,” I regretfully admitted as I removed the gold star from my vest and slipped it into a pocket. “Apparently I’m getting forgetful in my old age.”

            “Deputy Wheeler, you have not aged a day from the moment we first met,” Running Fox teased. “Except for a little more gray in your hair, just like me.” Sweeping a loose strand of her gray-black hair behind one ear, she gave me a crooked smile.

            I’d lost track of how long it had been, but since I’d lived in Carson City for nearly thirty years at that point, I figured it was probably almost that long that we’d known each other. She was just a wisp of a girl back then and I hadn’t taken note of her beauty because I was already deeply in love with my Emily; but I realized now that she had only grown prettier as time wore on, and she reminded me a bit of my sister, Cornflower. Oddly enough, for as long as we had been acquainted, I had never met her husband or children, and I found myself feeling remiss; especially since I considered her to be a friend.  However, the Washoe Indian clan primarily kept to themselves when they weren’t in the tavern, so I guess it wasn’t all that surprising.

            “Do you think the boy would talk to me?” I inquired as I took another sip of my beer. “I don’t want to scare him, but if he needs help, I’d like to try if I can.”

            “I do not know,” Running Fox replied with a frown and a shrug of one shoulder. “I could barely get him to stay when I spoke with Chester about him sleeping in the office. But you know Chester – he manages to look scary even when he does not mean to. The boy seems to be especially afraid of men. I am certain something dreadful has happened to him, but if he is unable or unwilling to speak…”

            Her voice trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished, and her dark brown eyes were full of sorrow with a touch of annoyance as she shrugged once more and rose to her feet. Glancing at the bar, I saw Chester glowering at us both, and I knew that he had sent a not-so-subtle signal to Running Fox that she had work to do. Not wishing to cause her grief, I gave her a wan smile and a nod, then continued to nurse my beer as I watched the back-room doorway to see if I could spot the Indian boy and perhaps capture his attention.

            Although he never made another appearance before I finished the last of my beer, all thoughts of discussing my own personal quandary with Growling Bear had fled, and I found myself thinking solely about the boy. Who was he? Where had he come from? Where was his family? What had happened to him to cause him to be so terrified and perhaps be unable to speak? All of these questions crowded my mind while my deputy’s intuition and personal curiosity thrummed through my veins, and I knew I had to make it my mission to find out. However, not wanting to push the matter immediately, I decided to let it lie another day and head home, hoping the boy would settle in some more before I came back and attempted to speak with him.

            Upon my arrival at home, I led Wicahpi into the corral and unsaddled him, then spent a little time with my old friend Zonta before letting myself in the back door. The house was almost deathly quiet, and for a moment a pang of longing shot through my heart. I missed the days when our children were little and running noisily around the place, Emily chasing after them looking tired and harried, but usually happy as well. Now all three of our children were grown and married which seemed to have happened far too quickly. Sometimes I just needed to hear that childish laughter ringing throughout our home, and I couldn’t wait for the day when we would experience that with, hopefully, a whole passel of grandchildren.

            So far, only Betsy and David had blessed us with a grandchild, David Jacob, known as D.J., who I knew carried within him the soul of our own stillborn son, Jacob Abraham. D.J. is now six years old and the apple of my eye, and I love him as fiercely as if he were my own eldest boy. Emily babysits him as often as possible, but honestly, it’s never enough for me. While Brett and Frankie’s early beginnings had been fraught with trauma and complication, we were thrilled to recently learn that they were now expecting their first baby, likely due in May next year. (As you know, it turned out to be twins, Nicholas and Joshua, whom we love dearly as well.)

            Ginny Rose, always one to do things her own way and in her own time, had written to us from Washington state this past summer, announcing that she and her beau, Isaac Stone, had decided to marry there where no anti-miscegenation laws existed. Although we understood their reasoning, we were saddened to have missed the ceremony. Not surprisingly, though, Emily was already planning a huge celebration for them upon their return to Carson City at the beginning of October. Although I’d never push, I secretly hoped they would have children sooner rather than later, forcing my wanderlust-filled daughter to finally settle down at home.

            As I stood there wool-gathering, Emily suddenly bustled in from the drawing room and gasped when she saw me standing in front of the closed back door.

            “Oh! Abe, you startled me!” my beautiful wife exclaimed as she brought a shaky hand to her bosom. “I was upstairs cleaning and didn’t hear you come in!”

            Moving swiftly forward, I gathered her into my arms. “I’m sorry, my love. Sometimes this house is so darn quiet, I find myself sneaking around in order not to disturb the silence.”

            Pulling gently away from me, Emily looked into my eyes. “It is awfully quiet, isn’t it? I miss when D.J. isn’t here to make some noise. It’s hard now that he is in school full-time and Betsy no longer needs me to babysit as often.”

            Sighing, I brushed a bit of dust from her cheek and kissed the tip of her nose. “I was just thinking about how much I miss all of our children. I mean, they’re still in town except for Ginny Rose, but…”

            “I know exactly how you feel,” my wife commiserated with a frown. Reaching up, she touched the furrowed line between my eyes. “However, there’s something else on your mind, isn’t there, High Wolf?”

            Offering her a weak smile, I replied, “You know me so well, Butterfly.”

            After seating ourselves at the dining room table, I told her about the frightened Indian boy I’d seen at the Pine Nut Tavern, and what little Running Fox had been able to tell me about him. She listened carefully while holding my hand, but said nothing until I was finished.

            “You want to bring him home, don’t you?” Emily perceptively asked, already knowing what my answer would be.

            “Well… yes, it did cross my mind,” I replied with a shrug. “Running Fox’s husband refused to let him stay at their house, and I don’t see Chester allowing him to sleep in his office long-term. I’m surprised he even gave the boy a job. The old man must be getting soft-hearted in his old age.”

            “Abe, you know I usually trust your judgment implicitly,” Emily stated while shaking her head. “I can tell you feel sorry for the boy and want to help, but you know absolutely nothing about him. You don’t know where he’s from or why he appears frightened, and if he really can’t speak, you may never know.”

            “You’re right, my love, but what better way to try finding out than to open our home to him?” I argued. “If he’s afraid of men like Running Fox suspects, then perhaps he will open up to you. You’re the best mother I know, and if anyone can coax him to speak, then it will be you.”

            Sighing heavily, my wife leaned over and gave me a firm hug and a peck on the cheek. “I never can say no to you, Abraham High Wolf. Shall we go see him tomorrow together?”

            “I’d like that, my sweet Butterfly,” I murmured as I drew her close and buried my face in her blonde-gray curls. “Speaking of not saying no to anything…”

            “Good thing we’re having a cold supper tonight,” she giggled with a wink and a sly grin as she rose to her feet, grabbed my hand once more, and began leading me through the kitchen to our bedroom. Sometimes there are advantages to having the house all to ourselves.

            After a beautiful night of loving (of which I never tire), the next day, true to her word, Emily went with me to the Pine Nut Tavern. While it was just after opening time, the establishment already had its usual small crowd of day-drinkers, and they all looked up in astonishment as we entered through the swinging doors. Emily had never before accompanied me to this place, and I’m sure that, along with the fact that she’s white, caused the shaking heads and ripple of whispered conversation that ensued. Doing my best to ignore them, I led my wife to the bar, where Chester was wiping down the back counter. Glancing up into the mirror, his eyes locked onto mine, and a curious look crossed his weathered face as he caught sight of Emily standing next to me.

            Turning slowly around, he put down the towel he’d been using and crossed his arms in his usual stance. “Good morning, Deputy. What can I do for you?”

            “Hello, Chester,” I responded with a smile. “May I introduce you to my wife, Emily? Emily, this is Chester Lone Wolf, the Pine Nut’s proprietor.”

            “Good day, Mrs. Wheeler,” Chester acknowledged with a stiff nod, yet with a hard edge to his voice. I wasn’t positive, but it seemed he was struggling to be polite, and I wasn’t entirely certain what the issue was. While his patrons might be, I’d never known Chester to be prejudiced, especially since he’s half-white himself, but perhaps it was just that the subject had never come up.

            “Well… um, we’re… sorry to bother you, but we were hoping to speak with the boy you have working for you,” I clumsily stated. Chester’s demeanor, subtle as it may have been, had taken me aback and I suddenly found myself feeling intimidated by him.

            “Why would you want to do that?” Chester inquired with a fierce scowl.

            “Mr. Lone Wolf, I know this is an imposition, but we won’t take up much of his time,” Emily interceded, likely hoping that she could sooth his savage breast. “We’re concerned about the boy is all. Abe told me what little Running Fox relayed about him, and perhaps I can help in some way. I’ve raised three children of my own and cared for many more, including our grandson. We thought since he isn’t speaking, he might open up to me.”

            “All right, but make it quick,” Chester growled as his scowl deepened. “I am trying to run a business here, not a nursery.” Then, turning his head, he shouted “BOY!,” and Emily and I both winced as we moved to the end of the bar and anxiously watched the back-room doorway.

            Subsequently, the young Indian lad cautiously peered around the door jamb, but startled at the sight of us standing there. I was afraid he was going to bolt, but when Running Fox appeared behind him and whispered something into his ear, he hesitantly stepped out and slowly approached us.

            Holding out her hands to the boy, my wife smiled and said, “Hello, young man. My name is Emily, and this is my husband, Abe, also known as High Wolf in the Lakota language. May we speak with you a moment?”

            Apparently dazzled by her smile, the boy tentatively smiled back and reached for her hand, and she led him to a table in a far corner, as far away from the gawking patrons as possible. I remained quiet and silently trailed behind them, not wanting to alarm the boy and possibly destroy the tenuous connection he and my wife were making. After we all took a seat with Emily between us, she continued speaking in her soft, lilting voice.

            “Your friend Running Fox told Abe a little about you,” she began. “He is very concerned regarding your well-being, as am I. Sleeping here and working in the tavern isn’t an ideal situation for a young man like you. We’d like to offer you a bed in our home, and we can pay you to help with chores, like feeding our horses, milking our cow, and such. Is that something you’d be interested in doing?”

            Once she had had time to think about it overnight, Emily had broached the idea to me on our ride to the tavern, and I had wholeheartedly agreed. Obviously, we were both missing having children in our home, and I couldn’t see a reason not to offer the boy some stability, too. Having someone around to help with chores would take a load off of me as well as Brett, who came by as often as he could to help out. However, with a baby of their own on the way, it wasn’t fair of us to continue expecting Brett to chip in, especially since he also worked full-time as a deputy. In addition, while I imagined it wouldn’t be long-term, having the boy around would also be of benefit to Emily so she wouldn’t be alone when I was working. It seemed like a mutually beneficial arrangement all around, yet hopefully in time we would learn his story and perhaps be able to help in some other way.

            After some hesitation and a furtive and fearful glance my way, the boy shrugged. Picking up on his reticence, Emily quickly advised, “You don’t need to be afraid of Abe. Yes, he is a deputy here in Carson City, but he’s the kindest man I know, and he only wants to help.” Reaching over to pat my hand, I offered them both a bright smile.

            “My wife is right, young fellow,” I agreed. “But I’m getting to be an old man now. I have a bum leg, and things just aren’t as easy for me anymore. You’d also be a huge help to me if you’re willing.”

            After glancing back and forth between us for a few seconds more, the boy finally nodded.

            “Excellent!” Emily exclaimed while clapping her hands together. “The first thing we’ll do is get you some proper clothing. I’m sure we still have some shirts and trousers that Brett outgrew for you to wear, but I’m a seamstress so I can alter these as well.”

            Chuckling quietly to myself at my wife’s enthusiasm, I rose to my feet. “I’ll go tell Chester that we’re taking the boy off his hands. In the meantime, why don’t you think of a name we can call him so we aren’t just yelling “Boy,” too?”

            While everything Emily had said to Chester had been true, we hadn’t been completely forthcoming with him regarding our plan, either, because we weren’t sure if the boy would agree. Therefore, I had to convince Chester that our proposal was best for the lad, while also strongly encouraging him to give me two dollars for the work he had performed the last few days. Somehow, the old barkeep seemed both irritated and glad that we had elected to take the boy home with us, but eventually he acquiesced and reluctantly handed over two silver dollars. All in all, I found his behavior to be rather baffling, especially since I still didn’t know what his problem had seemed to be with Emily; yet as long as I’ve known him, he has always been an enigma.

            Quickly dismissing Chester from my mind, I joined Emily and the boy at our buckboard wagon, where I helped them both aboard before stiffly climbing in myself. Emily chattered merrily all the way home while the boy, who sat between us, remained silent. His dark brown eyes darted hither and yon, seemingly frightened at each face he saw on the boardwalk as we rode, which made my deputy’s instincts tingle. I was convinced the boy had a terrible secret he was hiding, and I meant to find out one way or the other. I didn’t feel he was a danger to Emily or I wouldn’t have agreed to bring him home, but still I was certain there were things we needed to know.

            “Abe? Did you hear me?” Emily’s voice interrupted my musings as I realized I had inadvertently tuned her out.

            “I’m sorry, my love,” I replied as I sheepishly glanced her way. “I thought you were talking to the boy.”

            “Daniel,” she emphatically stated. “You said I should find a name for him, so I’ve come up with Daniel. I was asking if you thought it was all right. Daniel was my mother’s favorite book in the Bible, which is about a young man in exile. I thought perhaps it was fitting.”

            “Yes, it seems perfect,” I agreed with a smile. “What do you think, young man? Does Daniel suit you?”

            The boy first looked up at me, then turned his eyes to Emily. Initially I wasn’t sure if he’d understood my question, but then he nodded and patted his chest as if in agreement. At that point, I still couldn’t tell whether he was actually mute or if he was choosing to be, but it was another mystery I hoped to solve sooner rather than later.

            Over the next week or so, Daniel settled into our home while also taking eagerly to the chores we assigned to him, and both Emily and I quickly grew fond of him. In spite of what must’ve been a troubling past, he appeared to be a mild-mannered boy and seemed to trust us implicitly, which made our hearts glad. Most of the time he was able to communicate with us by pointing at what he wanted, or shaking or nodding his head yes or no when we asked specific questions. Unfortunately, while our interactions made it obvious that he had no difficulty understanding English, he seemed unable to make it clear to us whether he had the ability to speak. Oddly enough, though, he did laugh from time to time, which seemed to contradict his muteness. However, after consulting with the doctor in our family, Betsy, she indicated that it was possible for a mute person to laugh, since it’s a physical reaction which involves the respiratory system and other muscles, and not necessarily the vocal cords. Because his laugh sounded more animal than human, I became convinced that the boy had been mute from birth.

            Having to communicate with Daniel in that way was awkward, but we made do until Emily had the idea to attempt teaching him the alphabet and how to write. (She had already tried to find out whether he could read, but when she showed him her Bible and pointed at the words, he had shaken his head “no.”)  As difficult as the task might be, he appeared quite willing to try, and Emily began providing lessons to him daily. It was my hope that if he did learn to write that we would finally learn his story, especially after I inadvertently noticed thick, jagged scars across his back.

            One afternoon, I had sent Daniel to the barn to muck out the stalls while I lazily puttered in our garden. Realizing I had forgotten to remind him to also change out the water in each stall, I entered the barn and found him raking out Zonta’s stall. It was a hot, muggy day, so he’d removed his shirt, and at first he didn’t hear me approach until I involuntarily gasped at the sight of him. (Previously, he had always taken care to stay clothed around us, even refusing to allow any help with his bath, which we thought was just the usual adolescent modesty.)

            “My god, Daniel, who did that to you?” I hotly inquired as I drew closer. “Did your father do that?” Butch Taylor and what he had done to his sons had instantly come to mind, and I was filled with both sorrow and fury that this poor lad had suffered a similar injustice.

            Dropping the rake, Daniel grabbed for his shirt which was draped over the stall door, but his hands were shaking so badly he dropped it. Picking it up, I shook off the stale hay and dirt, then handed it to him as I watched tears slip from his eyes and track through the dust which coated his cheeks. Blinking back tears which had formed in my own eyes, I stayed silent, realizing that even if he wanted to, he’d be unable to explain precisely what had happened. Instead, when he was finished buttoning the shirt, I held my arms out to him and he willingly accepted my embrace. As he raggedly sobbed into my chest, I whispered to him in Lakota, stroking his long, sleek hair as I sometimes had with my own children until he managed to calm down enough to resume his chores.

            That evening when I told Emily what I had seen, her sorrow matched my own but also renewed her determination to help Daniel learn to read and write. Neither of us wished to force him to reveal his secrets, especially now that he seemed so happy and content with us otherwise, but I knew from experience that burying your past would only cause it to come back to haunt you later. Regrettably, I ended up discovering from another source just what had caused Daniel’s trauma, which ultimately forced me to decide between what was morally right and what was just in the eyes of the law.

            Not long before Ginny Rose and Isaac were due to arrive home, I stopped into Janey’s Boardinghouse to speak with the proprietor and my good friend, Janey Carter Ryan, about the upcoming festivities. Emily had asked me to inquire whether Janey would be willing to bake several pies for the party and, of course, she was delighted to do so. While I was there, Janey asked after our family, and I briefly told her about our new charge, the mute boy, Daniel.

            “It sounds as if you’ve begun taking in strays like the twins used to do,” Janey teased with a hearty chuckle. She was referring to the many lost or injured animals my children often brought home when they were young, and another pang of nostalgia shot through me.

            “Perhaps,” I agreed with a shrug. “I’m certain he’s been running from something, but since he’s mute, we haven’t been able to find out what that might be.”

            “If you’re meant to know, you’ll learn what it is in time,” Janey astutely observed.

            Suddenly, as if her words had been a presentiment, the front door opened and a dapper-looking gentleman stepped into the drawing room and strode towards the desk where we stood. He sported a full but well-trimmed mustache beneath his nose, and was dressed in a long woolen coat with matching vest and trousers, a colorful scarf at his throat. After setting his valise on the floor, he swept off his bowler hat and bowed dramatically to Janey, when I caught a glimpse of a gold shield-shaped badge pinned to his vest.

            “Good afternoon,” he intoned in a deep, booming voice. “I’m Pinkerton Detective, Charles Siringo, but you can call me Charlie. I’m here in town on business, and I’m looking to rent a room for a few days if you have one available.”

            While I had no good reason for it, my blood ran cold at his announcement. Having already read his autobiography a few years before, as well as newspaper accounts of his exploits, I was well aware of who Charlie Siringo was and what he was capable of, and I couldn’t shake the strange feeling that his business here had something to do with Daniel.

            “Of course, Mr., er… Charlie,” Janey gaily replied with a wink. “And you may call me Janey. A room will cost two dollars a night, and meals are an extra fifty cents each.”

            “That will be satisfactory,” Charlie Siringo agreed before turning to me. “I see, sir, that you also have a badge pinned to your vest. I take it you’re a deputy here in Carson City?”

            “Yes, I am, Deputy Abe Wheeler,” I responded as we shook hands. “May I inquire what your business is here in Carson City?”

            Instead of answering my question, he peered at me shrewdly with intense, dark eyes. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen an Indian law man outside of a reservation before, and I’ve been all over the country. I’d be interested to know your story.”

            Staring back without blinking I stated, “That would probably take longer than the time you have, Mr. Siringo, and you didn’t answer my question.”

            “Charlie, please,” he insisted. “No, I didn’t. However, I’d prefer not to repeat myself if I can help it, and I’d rather speak to your sheriff first. You’re welcome to be there, of course.”

            His caginess annoyed me, because I wanted to know what he was doing here as soon as possible; but I could also see his point. “I understand, Mr. Siringo. Sheriff Allen Gentry is in his office now if you’d like me to escort you there.”

            “No, that won’t be necessary,” Siringo demurred with a wave of his hand. “I’ve had a long journey and I’d like to get a bite to eat and partake of a bath if there’s one available. I’ll plan to meet with your sheriff in the morning.”

            Janey had been watching our exchange with a puzzled look on her face, likely wondering why I was being rather abrasive. She knew me to usually be affable with strangers, but there was something about Charlie Siringo that was setting my teeth on edge. He seemed to be pleasant enough, if a bit arrogant, yet he gave me a strong feeling of foreboding which I couldn’t dismiss. While my gut wasn’t often wrong, I knew I needed to lighten up or he might become suspicious of me, even though I wasn’t sure I had anything to hide. After all, his visit here might have nothing whatsoever to do with Daniel, and I needed to be patient.

            “We serve a hot supper every night at six o’clock if you’re interested,” Janey eventually interjected. “Tonight, we’re having ham hocks and boiled potatoes. Breakfast is at seven in the morning. While we don’t have a bath here for customer use, there’s a nice bathhouse across the street, which I also own. My friend, Timothy Nelson, is the proprietor there. Here is your key to room number six, second door on the right at the top of the stairs.”

            “Thank you, Janey,” Siringo acknowledged as he accepted the key before pulling a wad of money from his trouser pocket and handing her a five-dollar bill. “Here is enough money for two nights’ stay for now. I will be pleased to join you for supper, and breakfast tomorrow. I’ll have to let you know about subsequent meals, though, and whether I’ll need the room for longer.”

            “Of course, Charlie,” Janey nodded, as she slipped the money into her dress pocket.

            Pulling a gold watch from his vest pocket, Charlie glanced at it, then looked over at me. “Looks like I’ll have plenty of time to head over to the bathhouse and take a leisurely soak before supper. Deputy, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. If you’d please tell your Sheriff… Gentry was it?... that I’m requesting an audience with him tomorrow morning at nine, I’d be much obliged.”

            “Certainly, Mr. Siringo,” I responded with a brisk nod as we shook hands once more.

            Holding onto my hand a little harder and longer than necessary, he gazed deeply into my eyes. “I insist you call me, Charlie, Abe. Makes things a bit more friendly, don’t you think?”

            Not waiting for my response, he let go my hand before picking up his valise once more, settled his bowler hat atop his head, then marched confidently through the drawing room. When he reached the door, he turned and tipped his hat to us, flashing a broad yet mischievous grin as he opened it and stepped onto the boardwalk.

            “He seems to be a nice enough fellow,” Janey commented as we watched the door close, but she frowned when she glanced up at me. “What’s troubling you, Abe?”

            “I don’t really know, Janey,” I admitted with a shrug. “It’s probably nothing. I guess I better do the detective’s bidding and let Allen know he’s in town, though. Thanks again for agreeing to bake the pies, and I’ll see you at the party in a few days.”

            “Give my love to Emily,” my friend said, and she blew me a kiss as I followed Charlie Siringo out the door.

            At the sheriff’s office, I informed Allen Gentry of the encounter with the Pinkerton detective, and his expression was nearly identical to Janey’s when I failed to hide my trepidation.

            “While it’s interesting that Siringo would have business here in Carson City, you seem to be especially disturbed by his presence, Abe,” Allen correctly asserted.

            “I… can’t really explain it, Allen,” I countered. “There could be any number of reasons for his visit, but…” I let my thought trail off because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to voice my concern about Daniel out loud. There were several people who knew that the boy was staying with us, so keeping it a secret would be impossible, but I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact, either.

            Unfortunately, Allen knew me too well, and often seemed to read my mind. “You think he’s here about Daniel, don’t you?”

            Sighing heavily, I answered, “Maybe. You know the boy mysteriously appeared out of nowhere, but he can’t speak and tell us where he came from or how he ended up here. Emily has begun teaching him to read and write, and hopefully when he does, he’ll be able to tell us.”

            “People show up out of nowhere fairly often, Abe,” Allen remarked. “It’s not all that unusual. I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

            Along with being one of the smartest law men I’ve ever known, the man also had an uncanny way of seeing the unspoken truth of a matter. It was almost like he was looking into my soul, which seemed rather uncommon for a white man. Maybe it was because he and I had been friends for so long, and my own ancestry was rubbing off on him.

            “You’re right,” I confessed as I ran a hand across my sweating brow. “Emily and I are the only ones who know this about Daniel. He has horrible scars across his back, probably from a whip, which he took pains to try to hide from us. We’re certain he’s been running from some dreadful situation, and we don’t want to see any more harm come to him.”

            “That’s terrible, Abe,” Allen acknowledged with sorrow reflected in his voice and written on his face. “And I understand you’re wanting to protect the boy. However, although I always trust your instincts, I think you might be jumping to conclusions in this case. There’re all sorts of nasty characters out there that Siringo could be chasing. Why don’t we wait until tomorrow to see what he has to say, and we’ll take it from there?”

            “Okay,” I said as I stood up. “Do you want me to ask Brett and/or Alex to be here, too?”

            “No… it might be best just to keep it between the two of us for now,” Allen replied. “I certainly hope you’re wrong, but the fewer people who know about Siringo’s business, the better. If we need anyone else’s help, we’ll tell them later.” Giving Allen a brisk nod, I bid him farewell, then went outside to round up Wicahpi for the ride home.

            Of course, when I arrived, the other person who could read me like a book knew right away that I was anxious about something. After making sure Daniel was out of earshot, I told Emily about Charlie Siringo and my suspicion that he was tracking the boy, as well as what Allen had to say.

            Shaking her head, my wife declared, “Abraham High Wolf, I think sometimes you let the willies get the better of you. I’m sure Allen is right.”

            “Perhaps,” I mused as I began nervously pacing around the drawing room. “I just wish we knew what his story was, and who is responsible for the scars on his back. How are his lessons coming along?”

            Stopping me with her hands on my shoulders, Emily then guided me over to the divan and made me sit down. “He’s doing quite well, actually. I already told you he picked up the alphabet right away, but he has now begun writing a few simple words like ‘cat’ and ‘dog.’ He’s a long way from being able to write full sentences, though, or describing anything about his life.”

            “Do you think if I asked him questions, he’d be able to write one-word answers?” I hopefully asked.

            “No… I really don’t think so, Abe,” Emily responded with a sigh. “His vocabulary is extremely limited at this point. Maybe he can in a few months.”

            “I get the feeling we don’t have that long, Emily,” I lamented. “I know you and Allen both think I’m making a mountain out of a mole hill here, but I can’t help how I feel. I know Siringo to be a very intelligent and astute man, and probably one of the best investigators in the country if what I’ve read about him can be believed. I pray that I’m wrong about the reason for him being here, but my instincts are telling me otherwise.”

            “I hope you’re wrong, too, my love,” Emily agreed as she placed her warm hand on my cheek. “All we can do is wait until tomorrow to see what the detective has to tell you. If it’s what you suspect and he’s here to arrest Daniel for something, we will deal with it then.”

            While I knew she was right, patience has never been my strong suit, so I found myself feeling restless the entire evening. That night, I also laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling where light and shadow played hide-and-seek with one another from the moonlight filtering in through the window. I kept thinking I saw patterns that were trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t decipher their meaning, so I gave up and tried closing my eyes. Usually, the sound of Emily’s quiet breathing calms me and helps me relax, but my agitated brain refused to succumb to it and I didn’t get one wink of sleep.

            Finally giving up altogether, I rose early and dressed quietly so as to not awaken Emily, then headed to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. I found Daniel already in the dining room with his lesson book open on the table, staring intently by the light of a kerosene lamp at the alphabet and the few words he’d written as if they might speak to him aloud.

            “Good morning, Daniel,” I greeted as I sat in the chair next to him. “Emily tells me you’re doing quite well with your reading and writing lessons.”

            Glancing over at me, the boy shrugged and gave me a shy grin, then pointed at the word ‘cat’ and bared his teeth while holding up his hands in claw-like fashion. I knew it was his way of indicating that he understood what a cat was, and it gave me hope that we’d soon be able to communicate with him more fully. Sadly, I still carried that foreboding notion that we weren’t going to get the chance to teach him more than we already had; yet I tried to shake it off as I encouraged Daniel to show me what else he knew.

            A little while later, Emily arose and made us all a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage links. As usual, Daniel wolfed down the food quickly as if someone might take it away from him, which gave me the impression that at some point the boy might have been institutionalized. The thought had crossed my mind before, but his behavior – now coupled with the scars on his back – seemed to confirm that suspicion. My curiosity was burning like a flame inside me, and I wished we had thought to start his reading and writing lessons sooner.

            As the morning wore on, I did my best to hide my growing anxiousness regarding the upcoming meeting with Charlie Siringo, but Emily was fully aware. Throughout breakfast she kept touching my arm or my cheek, trying her best to calm me without saying anything aloud. Fortunately, Daniel remained oblivious, but I was relieved when he headed out to the barn to begin his morning chores.

            “Everything is going to be fine, Abe,” Emily soothed as she kissed me lightly on the lips. “You’re about to jump out of your skin, though, so why don’t you go on and head to the Sheriff’s Office now?”

            Glancing at the clock on the dining room wall, I saw that it was a quarter to eight. “Yeah, good idea. That’ll give me time to talk with Allen some more before Siringo arrives.”

            So, after giving my beautiful wife a more passionate kiss, I grabbed my hat from the hook on the wall next to the back door, and headed to the corral to saddle up Wicahpi. To my surprise, Daniel had already saddled him, and he stood next to my horse with a satisfied grin on his handsome young face.

            “Thank you, Daniel!” I declared as I settled the hat on my head while patting him on the shoulder. “You’re a terrific worker. In fact, you’ve already become more than that to me.”

            Pulling him into an embrace, my heart filled with joy as the boy hugged me hard in return; but a pang of sorrow marred the moment when I considered that I might lose him. It was then I knew I would do anything for this wayward child, that it was not only my duty to care for and protect him, but to also love him like he was my own son. Every child has the right to have someone they can count on their lives, and I hoped I could be that person for Daniel.

            After we parted, I quickly swiped the unbidden tears from my eyes with the back of my hand, then said so long to Daniel as I mounted Wicahpi and spurred him into a fast trot. Allen Gentry was already waiting for me when I arrived at the Sheriff’s Office, and we talked over cups of strong coffee. Allen could tell I was still extremely nervous about Siringo’s visit, and he cautioned me to keep calm until we knew precisely what the man’s business might be; yet that was easier said than done.

            The Pinkerton detective appeared exactly on time, opening the door and striding in confidently just as he had the boardinghouse yesterday. After hanging up his long coat and hat on a hook next to mine by the door, he came over and extended his hand to Allen, who had stood to greet the man properly.

            “Sheriff Allen Gentry, I presume?” Siringo asked before introducing himself. “Detective Charlie Siringo from the Pinkerton Agency. I imagine your deputy here mentioned that I have business to discuss with you.”

            “Yes, Abe told me you had requested an audience,” Allen replied as he indicated for Siringo to take a seat next to me. “What can we do for you?”

            My heart was pounding out of my chest, and my mouth had gone dry, so I remained silent and just nodded when Siringo glanced over at me. No matter how hard I tried to think otherwise, I knew what he was going to say, and my worst fears were founded when he spoke his next words.

            “I’ll just cut to the chase here, so to speak,” the detective wittily advised. “I’m looking for an Indian boy who murdered a man in Utah. I’ve been tracking his movements across Utah and Nevada, and I now have reason to believe he’s here in Carson City.”

            I felt the blood drain from my face, and I must’ve moaned involuntarily since Siringo’s head snapped around and he turned his steely eyes on me.

            “I see that means something to you, Deputy Wheeler,” Siringo declared. “Sheriff, I initially planned to seek your assistance in locating the boy, but that became unnecessary when I was told by one of your local proprietors that there was a runaway Indian boy staying with Deputy Wheeler and his wife. Deputy, I hoped you would voluntarily fess up to it and that you’ll now turn him over without a fuss.”

            While I had previously admitted to myself that it wasn’t a secret Daniel had been staying with us, I was still disheartened that anyone would’ve so easily given up that information to the detective. I knew it wouldn’t have been Janey since she never gossiped, nor would she betray my trust. However, Siringo had only been in town one evening, so he couldn’t have gone many places to inquire. Therefore, I suspected one of those places had been the Pine Nut Tavern, because I wouldn’t put it past Chester Lone Wolf to have told him. Normally I wouldn’t have thought he’d reveal the boy’s location maliciously, but his reaction towards Emily made me wonder if, in this case, he had.

            “You said the boy is accused of murder, Detective,” Allen stated in an attempt to turn Siringo’s focus away from me. “What, exactly, are the circumstances surrounding that alleged claim?”

            Turning back to Allen, Siringo stared him down. “I wasn’t given specific details, but from what I understand, the boy was a student at the Uintah Boarding School in Whiterocks, Utah. He killed the headmaster and fled the reservation. I happened to be in the area and took the assignment to track him down and bring him back for trial.”

            “H…how do you know… it was the boy who killed the headmaster?” I managed to croak. Thinking of the scars on Daniel’s back, I added, “Or maybe it was self-defense?”

            “Innocence or guilt isn’t my concern, Deputy Wheeler,” the detective dismissively replied. “My assignment is that of bounty hunter, period. I’m tasked only with returning the boy to Whiterocks where he will stand trial.”

            “That’s bullshit!” I screamed as I jumped to my feet and began pacing. “There won’t be a trial, they’ll just execute him on the spot. I’ve read about how the children are treated in those schools. Punished for no real reason, half-starving them until they fall in line and do whatever the white man wants. It’s absolute hell! In fact, a couple of my own family members once worked at one, and they ended up leaving because the conditions were deplorable and the children were treated so badly. The law says innocent until proven guilty, but I know they won’t give Daniel a chance! And he can’t even defend himself because he’s mute and won’t be able to explain what happened!”

            Shaking his head, Allen stood up and put a hand on my shoulder, trying to put a stop to my pacing just as Emily had yesterday. “Abe, please sit back down so we can discuss this rationally.”

            “No!” I shrieked, unable to contain my rage. “Daniel is innocent! The boy has scars on his back, proving that he was horribly mistreated!” Tearing myself away from Allen, I resumed my manic pacing.

            “Deputy, it’s obvious you have feelings for the boy,” Siringo calmly acknowledged, and his placid demeanor enraged me even more. “However, it’s your job to uphold the law, just as it is mine. I need you to turn the boy over to me forthwith, because I have more important matters to attend to.”

            As the detective rose to his feet, I couldn’t help myself any longer, and I lunged for him, driving him across the room and into the far wall. Ignoring the pain which flared up in my right thigh from the unexpected physical activity, I shouted, “Don’t tell me what my fucking job is, Siringo! As I see it, my job is to protect the innocent!”

            “Abe, stop!” Allen cried as he attempted to pull me off of Siringo. “This isn’t going to help!”

            Knowing my friend was right, but still unwilling to let go just yet, I continued to clutch Siringo by the lapels of his vest as I growled, “I suggest you get out of here before I kick your ass all the way back to Utah.”

            Finally letting go of his vest, I gave the detective one last shove before stepping back and allowing Allen to lead me to the other side of the room. The blood was pounding so loudly in my ears that I could barely hear my friend as he spoke quietly to me.

            “Abe, you’re just making matters worse,” he unequivocally asserted. “Whether or not we agree with the reason Siringo’s here, we really must comply. They could level you with charges for harboring a fugitive, and this office for aiding and abetting a criminal. I know it’s not what you want to hear because you care for Daniel. Perhaps what you should do is go with them, so you can be the boy’s advocate.”

            As I stood there trying to catch my breath, shooting pains scorched through my bad leg, making it difficult to think straight. The lawman part of me knew Allen was making sense, but the protective father in me – as well as my Indian ancestry – was certain that Daniel wouldn’t be given a fair trial no matter the circumstance. While I felt there was no way the boy was a cold-blooded murderer, I was also aware that sometimes things spin out of our control, causing events to take place that aren’t normally a part of our nature. I wanted to give Daniel the benefit of the doubt, and I hoped I could somehow glean the truth from him. Maybe then I could ascertain a proper course of action, but I wasn’t going to turn him over to Siringo without knowing all the facts.

            Siringo had remained where I’d left him, but finally he cleared his throat and stated, “I’m going to ignore your assault on me, Deputy Wheeler, because I understand that this is a sore subject for you, likely for many reasons. However, my demand still stands, and you must turn over the boy to me as soon as possible.”

            I started to move toward him again, but Allen grabbed my arm and held me back. “If I turn Daniel over to you – and that’s a big if – it will be in MY own time, not yours. I need to speak with him, to try to find out the truth regarding your allegations. We all owe him that.”

            Shaking his head, the detective started to speak but appeared to change his mind about what he was going to say when he looked into my hard, unblinking eyes. “All right, Deputy. I’ll give you until tomorrow morning at nine o’clock, when you will meet me here with the boy. If you’re even one minute late, I’ll have no choice but to issue an arrest warrant for you as well.”

            With that, Siringo strode toward the door, grabbed his coat and hat, and left without looking back. I was so angry my whole body was trembling, and Allen insisted I sit down for a few minutes before heading home. Reluctantly I complied, and I sat with my head in my hands as I fought back tears of rage and sorrow. We had only just gotten to know Daniel, and I couldn’t conceive of losing him now.

            Although still unsure about what I should do, I eventually calmed down enough, and I took my leave after promising Allen I’d see him tomorrow at nine. He kept assuring me that things would work out, but it was difficult to believe him, especially knowing how the so-called justice system still worked against Indians and other races. It had been many years since my best friend, Chow-Ping Yen, had been accused of a murder he didn’t commit, but things hadn’t changed much since then.

            When I returned home, I found my sister, Cornflower, deep in conversation with my wife at the dining room table. Taking one look at me, they both instantly knew something was wrong.

            “Where’s Daniel?” I urgently asked before either of them could speak. He hadn’t been in the barn or the corral when I put up Wicahpi, which I found troubling since that’s usually where he could be found.

            “He’s upstairs,” Emily responded as she rose to meet me. “He tore a hole in his trousers, so I sent him to change into a fresh pair so I could mend the ripped the ones. What is it, Abe? Is that detective here for Daniel?”

            Glancing at my sister, I saw the concern in her eyes, and I knew that Emily had confided in her. “Y…yes. I need to speak with him immediately. He’s been accused of murder, and we need to know the truth of what happened.”

             Both my wife and Cornflower gasped at my pronouncement, my sister shaking her head violently back and forth.

            “That just is not possible, Abe,” Cornflower protested. “He seems to be such a sweet boy.”

            “I don’t believe it is either, but we need to find out for sure,” I responded with a grimace. “Detective Siringo means to take him back to Utah tomorrow morning, but…”

            A noise from the drawing room stopped me mid-sentence, and we turned to see Daniel hurtling towards the front door. Realizing he must’ve overheard us, I dashed after him, once again ignoring the shooting pain in my thigh.

            “Daniel, please stop!” I yelled and, somehow, I managed to catch up with him as he yanked open the door.

            Grabbing him around the waist, I slammed the door shut with my shoulder, then held the struggling boy as he grunted and growled deep in his throat. Emily and Cornflower joined us, and my wife put her hands to the boy’s face, gently wiping away his tears until he stopped thrashing about and he began to emit only hitching gasps.

            “Daniel, it’s going to be okay,” I murmured as I finally let him go. “We want to hear your side of the story.”

            “Yes, please let’s sit down,” Emily urged as she took the boy by the hand and led him to the divan. She didn’t let go of his hand as she sat, and he tentatively seated himself next to her, with me on the other side. Cornflower said nothing but sat quietly in the nearby chair, ready to offer whatever support was needed.

            Gathering my thoughts, I stated, “Daniel, I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and I need you to nod yes or no to each one. I wish you’d already learned to read and write so we could get exact details, but this is the best we can do for now. I need you to answer me truthfully, though. Can you do that?”

            Daniel gazed at me with his soulful brown eyes and slowly nodded as Emily continued to clutch his hand.

            “Daniel, please know that we care for you very much,” my wife interjected before I could start my interrogation. “The three of us are on your side, and we will not judge you for anything that happened. Right, Abe?” Her blue eyes bore into mine and her intense stare told me my answer had better be in the affirmative.

            “Absolutely,” I quickly agreed while I patted the boy on the shoulder. “No judgments from us. Are you ready?”

            After wiping away a stray tear with his free hand, he gulped once and nodded. My interrogation went something like this:

            “Detective Siringo said you were a student at the Uintah Boarding School in Whiterocks, Utah. Is that correct?”  Nod.

            “He didn’t have specific details, but apparently they’re saying you killed the headmaster. Is that true?”  Shrug. Not knowing what that meant, I tried a different tactic.

            “We haven’t spoken about the scars on your back, Daniel. Did that happen at the boarding school?”  Nod.

            “Did the headmaster do that to you?”  Brisk nod with another bout of tears while Emily held him close until they subsided.

            “Did the headmaster do that to all of the students?”  Another shrug.

            “Only to you?”  Negative shake.

            “So, he whipped children when they thought they were being bad?”  Hesitant nod.

            “But sometimes they weren’t really being bad, he just thought they were, or used it as an excuse?”  Brisk nod.

            “Were all of you scared of him?”  Another brisk nod.

            “Was he whipping you when he was killed?”  Negative.

            “Was he whipping someone else when he was killed?”  He nodded, then held his hand out as if indicating height.

            “Someone smaller than you?”  A nod, then he held his hand to his heart.

            “A friend?”  Nod.

            “Was the headmaster shot with a gun?”  Shaking his head no, he removed his hand from Emily’s and stood up, then indicated I should stand, too.

            As if playing a game of charades, Daniel pantomimed shoving me in the chest, then pointed at himself. It took me a moment to understand that he wanted me to pretend to shove him, so I did, and he staggered back, falling carefully to the floor where he gently laid his head on the stone of our hearth, then crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue as if playing dead. Leaning over, I grabbed his hand to help him up and we resumed sitting as realization dawned on me.

            “So, you shoved him in defense of your friend, and he hit his head?”  Brisk nod.

            At that point, Emily chimed in and declared, “Clearly it was an accident, Abe! Surely the school administrators would understand that?”

            Sighing heavily, I responded, “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? However, I know how these things go, and if they want to decide it was murder, they will. Especially since Daniel apparently fled immediately afterwards. It makes him appear guilty whether he is or not.”

            Glancing at the boy, who shrugged with his eyes downcast, I reached out to draw him close. “It wasn’t your fault, Daniel. I know you were scared, and anyone would’ve done the same thing in your shoes.” Thinking of my own troubled youth and the things I had endured, my heart went out to the boy, and I knew I had to protect him at all costs.

            Subsequently, a discussion ensued among the three of us about what the best course of action might be. Going with Daniel to Utah seemed to be the most sensible thing to do, but I knew in my gut that no one there would listen to anything I had to say. I hadn’t been a witness to the incident, and as much as I had grown to care for the boy, I’d only known him a short time. Likewise, trying to hide him here in Carson City until Siringo left would be foolish, and I knew he’d never be safe if he stayed. Finally, an idea occurred to me which seemed like it might be the best option; yet we’d still be breaking the law to make it happen.

            “What if we sent him to Robert and Clara’s in South Dakota?” I proposed, referring to my father’s second cousin and his wife. “Perhaps he could join Margaret Light Shines on the Pine Ridge Reservation.”

            “That is an excellent idea, Abe!” Cornflower enthusiastically agreed, while Emily thoughtfully nodded her assent.

            However, Daniel started whining in his guttural way and shaking his head back and forth, clearly upset at the thought of being sent to another reservation.

            “Daniel, please calm down,” I soothed as I put my hands on his shoulders. “My sister, Margaret Light Shines, helps teach the children at Pine Ridge. She will take good care of you, as will Robert and Clara Wheeler, who are also family.”

             When he looked up at me, I saw tears fill Daniel’s eyes once more as he threw his arms around me and began sobbing into my chest. My heart was crying inside and my own eyes filled with tears because I didn’t want to let the boy go; but I knew it was the only solution to help keep him safe.

            “How would we get him there, Abe?” Emily eventually asked when Daniel had ceased crying. “I imagine the train would be fastest, but can he go alone?”

            “Someone should be with him, and it must be me,” I firmly stated. “I don’t want anyone else to get into trouble over this. Siringo didn’t get to be the detective he is by being stupid, and I’m willing to bet he’s staking out the train station as we speak. Fortunately, the eleven o’clock train to Reno is already gone, and I think the afternoon trains all go elsewhere, but he’ll probably be on the lookout again tomorrow. Especially once I tell him Daniel snuck away from the house in the middle of the night. I just have to figure out how to give him the slip so we can board the train without him knowing.” I abhorred lying to anyone, especially a law enforcement officer, but in this case, I knew I had no choice since Daniel’s life was in danger.

            “No, I will take him,” Cornflower insisted, shaking her head when I started to protest. “You cannot do it, Abe. You need to be here to talk with Siringo, and to keep him away from the train station tomorrow morning. Plus, I am more familiar with South Dakota and Pine Ridge.”

            “That means we’ll have to tell Allen, and I wanted to keep him out of this!” I vehemently objected. “He needs plausible deniability in this matter. If Siringo thinks he’s complicit, he can lose his badge or even be arrested.”

            “I think you know as well as I do that Allen does not much care about losing his badge,” Cornflower countered. “He is not running for reelection anyway, and he is smart enough to keep himself from being arrested. As his wife, I know his heart better than anyone, and he would want what is best for Daniel. I will tell him tonight what we discussed, and he will not argue with me. Perhaps this is a good time to take Ellie on a trip to meet our relatives, too, since she has never been.”

           “That’s a good idea, sister,” I concurred. “It will seem less conspicuous if you are traveling with two children. Well, Ellie really isn’t a child anymore, but you know what I mean. I’m just glad Stanley Bloom retired as stationmaster last year or the whole town would know you were seen with a strange boy. The new stationmaster seems to keep to himself, thank goodness.”

            While I had many reservations about our plan, I knew my sister would brook no further argument from me either, and I had to agree her idea of taking Ellie, her foster daughter, was a sound one. Ellie and Daniel were already somewhat acquainted, and I liked the idea of them all traveling together since I felt there was more safety in numbers. Now I just had to find a way to keep Charlie Siringo away from the train station for a few hours tomorrow morning without rousing his suspicions. Although I enjoyed watching plays with Emily now and then, I had never aspired to being an actor myself; yet I knew I’d have to put on the performance of my life in order to pull this off.

            After discussing specific details about the next morning’s plan, Cornflower took her leave, and I sent a silent prayer to the Great Spirit that Allen wouldn’t give her a hard time. Emily and I then spent the rest of the day and evening doing everything fun we could think of with Daniel, such as playing with the animals the boy had come to love. We also played board and card games, and I even brought out my guitar and sang several songs while Daniel clapped along. It was one of the best days I had spent with a child in a very long time, but it was bittersweet as well since I knew Emily and I were both struggling to keep a brave and happy face. Neither of us wanted him to leave, but he seemed to understand he couldn’t stay, and we continually assured him that he would like his new life in South Dakota.

            That night, I couldn’t sleep again, partly because of my nervousness over having to lie to Siringo, but also a little worried that my lie might become the truth. While Daniel seemed to be on board with our plan, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d lose his nerve and run off. I certainly wouldn’t blame him if he did, but being constantly on the run was not the life I wanted for him. Therefore, sometime after midnight, I left our bed and made my way quietly upstairs to Daniel’s room where I was relieved to find him slumbering peacefully. Still concerned that he might try to leave, though, I crept back downstairs and spent the rest of my sleepless night on the divan.

            Early the following morning, I rose and went upstairs to rouse Daniel and encouraged him to get dressed for the long journey. While he did so willingly, there was an air of sadness about him which matched my own. When he was finished, he picked up the small bag that Emily had packed for him, and we went downstairs where I could smell breakfast cooking. After settling Daniel at the dining room table, I entered the kitchen and put my arms around my wife’s waist and rested my chin on her shoulder.

            “That smells delicious, Butterfly,” I murmured into her ear. “I’m sorry I wasn’t in bed with you this morning. I couldn’t sleep and I was worried about Daniel, so I stayed the night on the divan.”

            “I know, my dear husband,” Emily replied as she turned to kiss my cheek. “I assume you’ve awakened him and he’s dressed and ready to go?”

            “Yes,” I answered with a long sigh as I released her. “My heart hurts over his leaving. Even though I’m getting rather old for it, I had envisioned raising another son.”

            “So did I,” Emily sorrowfully admitted as she put down the spatula she was holding and turned to hug me tightly. “We can only hold onto the knowledge that he’ll be safe with Margaret Light Shines, and we’ll be able to see him whenever we visit South Dakota. I hope that’s something we can do more often once you retire.”

            “I’ll be honest, I’ve been struggling with that,” I confessed. “However, I don’t think I will any longer. Probably my last act as deputy will be to circumvent the law, so I’m not sure it would be right for me to continue trying to uphold it.”

            “You’ve always done your best, Abraham High Wolf,” Emily insisted. “However, I often think that there’s a fine line between what is just and what is right, and sometimes you have to uphold the latter instead. As we have witnessed first-hand, the legal system is extremely flawed, and not everyone is treated fairly under the law. Daniel’s situation is clearly one such instance, and the only morally right thing to do is to make sure he gets the life he deserves.”

            “I knew I married you for more than your beauty, my love,” I murmured as I leaned down to kiss her. “You are the smartest woman I know, and you always know how to put things in perspective for me.”

            Finally letting her go to finish making breakfast, I joined Daniel in the dining room where I tried to engage him in a rather one-sided conversation. Although he nodded or shook his head in answer to my questions, he remained sullen and downcast, and I admit I was feeling the same way, too. After eating his breakfast with his usual gusto, though, he seemed eager to go out to the barn to take care of the animals one last time. I joined him in part because I wanted to keep an eye on him, but also so I could have those last moments with him. He really was one of the sweetest boys I’ve ever had the pleasure to know, and it felt so wrong that our time together was being cut short.

            Sooner than I would’ve liked, Cornflower and Ellie appeared carrying their bags, having come on foot taking the back way through neighboring property. I don’t know if Siringo would’ve stooped to watching our house, but we didn’t want to take any chances at anyone being seen approaching from the front. The plan was for my sister and Ellie to stay at our house with Daniel until ten o’clock or so, when Emily would take them in our buckboard to the train station via another circuitous route. In the meantime, I hoped to lead Siringo on a fool’s errand to a few more remote locations outside of town.

            Around eight-thirty, I said a tearful goodbye to Daniel while urging my sister to keep both him and Ellie safe. (Once I was certain they had departed on the train, I planned to send a telegram to Robert Wheeler letting him know they were on the way. The South Dakota Wheelers were kind and caring folks, and I knew they’d be thrilled to see Cornflower again and would welcome Daniel and Ellie with open arms as well.) During our final embrace, the boy refused to let go of me, and would only do so once I had assured him multiple times that we would come to visit as soon as we were able. I’ll admit that parting was just as hard for me, and a piece of my soul went with Daniel that day.

            Although I didn’t want to leave, I knew I couldn’t avoid facing Charlie Siringo forever, so I steeled myself for the coming confrontation. I imagined it would be next to impossible to fool the man, but I had to do everything in my power to convince him that Daniel had run off. Therefore, I saddled up Wicahpi and took off for the sheriff’s office, managing to arrive a few minutes before the detective was due. When I walked into the office, Allen Gentry was sitting at his desk as usual, and he glanced up at me with an inscrutable expression in his eyes as I stood before him.

            “You’ve put me in an awkward position, Abe,” the sheriff said without preamble. “Cornflower filled me in on your plan. If I didn’t love that woman so damn much, and respect you as a friend as well as a deputy…”

            “I know, Allen,” I interrupted before he could finish his thought. “I hope you understand that what the boy did was purely an accident, but the law in Utah is never going to see it that way. I just can’t let Siringo take him! They’ll kill him for sure, and I won’t let that happen!”

            “I do understand, Abe,” Allen admitted with a reluctant nod. “I’m not blind to the injustice that still goes on in this country. However, I think this incident has shown me that, more than ever, it’s time for me to turn in this badge. I believe it would be a good idea for you to do so as well. Whatever happens today will remain between us, but neither of us can continue in this job in good conscience.”

            “Yes, I agree, “I responded with a sigh. “You know I’ve loved being a deputy, and especially working with you, Allen. But you’re right. Over the years, the lines have become more and more blurred, and I can’t continue to uphold laws that I often don’t agree with. It seems a rather sad ending to our careers, but hopefully it’s a fitting one.”

            As my friend nodded once more in agreement, I heard the door open behind me. Taking a deep breath, I willed my suddenly racing heart to slow down, and I turned to see Detective Charlie Siringo scrutinizing me from the open doorway.

            Glancing around the small room, he asked, “Where’s the boy, Deputy Wheeler?”

            “I… I’m sorry, Detective,” I initially stuttered, then dug deep to find my inner strength to steady my voice. “After I spoke with Daniel last night, he seemed to understand what must happen, but when I woke up this morning, it seems he had taken what little he possessed and left our home sometime in the night.”

            Siringo stared hard at me for what felt like forever, but I managed to hold his gaze and not look away. My heart was still hammering in my chest and the blood pounded in my ears, but I knew I had to keep my composure or our duplicity would be revealed before it even began.

            “That’s very disappointing, Deputy,” Siringo finally stated. “And more than a little convenient. Sheriff, what are you doing to find the boy?”

            Wanting to keep Allen out of it as much as possible, I answered for him. “My wife is out looking for him at the home of friends and other places in town, Mr. Siringo. I have a few ideas of where he might’ve gone outside of town, and if you’d like to accompany me, we can search for him there.”

            The detective crossed his arms and glanced back and forth between the sheriff and me, a deep scowl on his face. Allen met his gaze placidly, while I managed to swallow the lump in my throat before setting a look of apology and contrition on my own countenance.

            “My instincts tell me that there’s something more going on here,” Siringo shrewdly asserted. “I don’t believe you’re being truthful, Deputy Wheeler, and I really don’t have time for this nonsense. I received a telegram yesterday alerting me that I have a much more important quarry to pursue. You may have heard of Butch Cassidy’s Wild Bunch? Notorious for robbing banks and trains all over the west, and far more dangerous than some sniveling Indian brat. However, I don’t like leaving a job unfinished if I can keep from it, so I will help you search for a few hours. Is there a horse available I can borrow?”

            “You’re welcome to take my horse, Detective Siringo,” Allen offered as he stood up to shake the man’s hand. However, Siringo ignored the gesture and turned to step through the still-open doorway, ostensibly assuming I would follow in his wake.

            Glancing at Allen, he shrugged, then mouthed “good luck” as I slowly ambled across the room and through the door, closing it softly behind me. I paused on the boardwalk, taking in the early fall sunlight, and breathed a brief sigh of relief. For a moment, I had been certain Siringo planned to give up and head to the train station in pursuit of a more worthy adversary, which would end in certain tragedy for Daniel.

            “I don’t have all day, Deputy,” Siringo snarled as he surveyed the two horses tied up in front of the office. “Which horse is the sheriff’s?”

            Pointing to Allen’s palomino, I moved towards Wicahpi and stiffly mounted him, grimacing as the usual pain shot through my thigh. Keeping conversation to the bare minimum, for the next hour or so I led the detective west of town to the base of the Sierra Nevadas where there were caves as well as mineshafts where a boy might possibly hide. When no tracks were noted other than that of bear and mountain lion, Siringo regarded me skeptically as I then suggested we go south to the Carson River. Although I had never taken Daniel to the caves, I certainly didn’t tell Siringo that, but I had taken Daniel fishing at the river once, so my subterfuge felt a little less deceitful.

            Once again, I took a longer route to the river than was necessary, avoiding the town proper while also trying to stretch out the time. As we rode, I could literally feel the waves of frustration and resentment wafting from Siringo, and I suppose in a way I couldn’t blame him. While his eyes were shielded by the bowler hat perched on his head, he never stopped casting his gaze all around him, and I was certain very little ever got by the man. He had already made it clear that he didn’t believe me; still for some reason he was going along with my phony search. I could only conclude that perhaps he was just trying to save face with his agency by reporting that he had done all he could to find the boy before giving up entirely. However, I didn’t trust his motives any more than he did mine.

            When a search of my usual fishing spots – as well as the old shack where my dear wife almost met her demise nearly thirty years ago and which was somehow still standing – proved fruitless as well, I took out my pocket watch and glanced at the time.

            “You got somewhere else to be, Deputy?” Siringo snidely inquired as he took off his hat and swept his sweating brow with the back of his hand.

            “Well, I told my wife I’d meet up with her at the Sheriff’s office by one o’clock or so,” I responded. “It’s half past twelve now. Hopefully she has found Daniel and has brought him with her.”

            “Somehow, I doubt that, Deputy,” Siringo cynically retorted. “I think you’ve been leading me on a wild goose chase.”

            “Mr. Siringo, I’ve done nothing of the sort,” I smoothly lied while turning Wicahpi northward. “I’m an officer of the law, just like you, and I take my duties seriously.”

            “But what ‘duties’ are we speaking of, Deputy?” the detective probed. “Duty to the law you swore to uphold, or duty to your family, of which that boy has clearly become a part?”

            He had me there, but instead of answering with more lies, I chose to ignore him as I spurred my horse into a swift trot back to Carson City. Upon arrival at the Sheriff’s Office, I noted our buckboard stationed out front with Goliath, our Clydesdale, patiently waiting in the sun. He flicked an ear my way when I patted his neck and spoke his name after dismounting Wicahpi and tying his reins to the post, and I silently thanked him for his role in our deception. As Charlie Siringo swung down from Allen’s horse and tied him up as well, he glared at me but said nothing before throwing open the door and stomping into the office.

            As I followed him inside, I watched as Emily rose to her feet, a distraught look on her lovely face. Ignoring Siringo, she hurtled herself at me and I enfolded her into my arms as she began softly crying.

            “Oh, Abe, I can’t find Daniel anywhere!” she moaned into my chest. “I checked every place I could think of! I… I guess you didn’t find him, either?”

            “No, my love, I’m sorry, we didn’t,” I morosely responded as I stroked her hair. We hadn’t rehearsed such an exchange, but I think if we had it wouldn’t seem as natural, and I applauded my wife’s brilliant improvisation.

            Over the top of her head, I spied Siringo standing with his arms crossed over his chest once more, glowering alternately between me and Allen. “You people don’t fool me for one minute, but you’ve done nothing I can prove, and I have other places to be. Mark my words, Deputy Wheeler, if I someday find out you’re harboring that fugitive, I will bring you up on charges. Sheriff, I’m not certain you were complicit in this ruse, but I expect you to contact me forthwith if the boy shows up in Carson City again, no matter what the Wheelers may want.” With that, he withdrew a card from his breast pocket and handed it to Allen, who glanced at it and tossed it on his desk.

            “I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you expected, Detective Siringo,” the sheriff stated. “Safe travels, and I wish you luck with the Wild Bunch.”

            With one last glare at the three of us, Siringo huffed into his mustache and made his exit, slamming the door loudly behind him. Emily gave me a wink and a sly smile as she pulled away from me, and I breathed a sigh of relief that it was over.

            “I take it everyone managed to board the train on time?” I asked.

            “It went off without a hitch,” my wife drolly responded. “The new stationmaster barely glanced up when he sold Cornflower the tickets, and Ellie and Daniel stood to one side with me so I don’t think he even saw them. If the detective thinks to ask questions, I highly doubt the stationmaster will have any answers for him.”

            “Well done, Butterfly,” I praised as I hugged her to me once more. “Thank you, Allen. You really went out on a limb for us, and it’s appreciated more than you know.”

            “Don’t mention it, Abe,” Allen replied with a wave of his hand. “Siringo was a horse’s ass – pardon my language, Emily – and I don’t feel guilty for having deceived him. I truly hope Daniel can now live his best life with your family in South Dakota.”

            “While we’re saddened at having to let him go, I feel certain he will,” I affirmed while sending a prayer to the Great Spirit to make it so.

**************

            Much to my relief, Daniel’s tale didn’t make it into Charlie Siringo’s book. In retrospect, having witnessed the man’s inflated ego firsthand, I imagine that he wouldn’t have included a story – fictionalized or not – where he didn’t come out the victor or the hero. The fact that Siringo never set foot in Carson City again, nor did he write about having been here, has taken a huge weight off my shoulders, though. Now that I’ve discovered that the former detective no longer works for the Pinkertons, I felt it was finally safe to write about Daniel and how much he meant to us in my journals. (While I don’t expect anyone outside the family to ever obtain possession of them, it seemed prudent to keep quiet just in case.)

            Since his abrupt departure in the fall of 1898, I’m pleased to report that Daniel thrived at the Pine Ridge Reservation, where my sister, Margaret Light Shines, took him under her wing as we had hoped. Together they learned American Sign Language which not only helped Daniel to communicate with others, but he also took to teaching it to other deaf and/or mute children. Over the years, he has become a leader and an advocate for children with disabilities of all types on the reservation, and we couldn’t be more proud of him.

            Once I turned in my badge and we sold the mercantile, Emily and I traveled to South Dakota as often as we were able. Each time, Margaret Light Shines made sure to bring Daniel to the Wheelers’ home, or we visited them on the reservation. We were always thrilled to see him, and he us, and we spent a lot of time getting to know the boy we had briefly raised and to finally learn his story.

            With help from my sister, Daniel told us that he had been born to an Algonquin father and a Ute mother. It was an unusual union since the two tribes don’t live anywhere near one another – the Algonquins typically hale from the northeast, while the Ute inhabit the Great Basin area – but his father had been a restless wanderer until he met Daniel’s mother. From all accounts, their love was a strong one, and when Daniel was born, they were elated. So much so, they named him Ahanu, an Algonquin name meaning “he laughs.” At the time, they didn’t realize their baby was mute, so the name ended up being quite fitting since laughing was one of the few sounds he could make. According to Daniel – who still prefers the name we gave him – he had been a happy boy until his twelfth year, when his parents were killed during a Commanche raiding party and he was subsequently sent to the Uintah Boarding School. He spent nearly two years of hell in that place until the horror escalated and he found himself running from what felt like the devil incarnate.

            Nevertheless, I’ve come to realize that it’s difficult to know sometimes who the devil is in any situation. Often, it’s one of our own making (which I’m quite familiar with), but it can also be anyone in our lives whether they mean to be or not. Was the headmaster the devil? Perhaps, but he was likely just a pious man who thought he was doing what was best for his charges; yet I personally find him thoroughly reprehensible and I don’t blame Daniel one bit for what happened. Maybe Charlie Siringo was the devil since he was the one who chased Daniel across the Utah and Nevada deserts and mountains; although a sound argument can be made that he was just doing his job. I’m certain many men have thought I was the devil for doing the same, or just for being part Indian. In any case, usually we must face down that devil, but I was glad to have helped Daniel avoid it altogether since I was certain it wouldn’t have ended well without any intervention.

            Every time we see him, Daniel thanks us for giving him his freedom, and I must admit I think it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done. While I felt somewhat guilty in not following the law I was sworn to uphold, I know I would’ve felt even more guilty had Daniel been executed for a crime that was truly an accident. As my wife so eloquently put it, sometimes it’s more important to do what’s right, and I believe in my heart she speaks the truth.

                                                                                                        A. Wheeler