by Al Lacy
On Tuesday, May 14, Chief Brockman rode into the mountains to meet with the town marshal in Central City, Mike Gunther. Gunther needed to talk to him about becoming a deputy U.S. marshal in Colorado Springs. Gunther’s letter had explained his need to live there because of family ties, and John had fully understood the importance of Mike’s need to move there.
As John was riding toward Central City through the towering Rockies, he thought of Wayne Shelby. “Lord, it was exactly a month ago today that I talked to Shelby about his atheism and his need of salvation. Our family and the Higginses have been praying hard that You would do whatever it takes to bring Shelby to Yourself and save him. Since I’m going to be in Central City, where he lives and works, I am going to find Shelby and try to talk to him again about Your existence and about salvation. Please help me.”
It was late in the afternoon when John left the office of town marshal Mike Gunther, after assuring him that he would make it possible for him to become a deputy U.S. marshal at the Colorado Springs federal marshal’s office very soon.
Swinging into his saddle, John rode the short distance out of Central City to the town’s gold mine. As he drew up, several miners came out of the mine shaft, and John heard them talking about how glad they were that their work was done for the day.
John whispered, “Please, Lord, help me to be able to have my talk with Wayne Shelby. He’s so heavy on my heart.”
Finally John saw Shelby coming out of the mine with other miners. Shelby saw the chief U.S. marshal instantly. His features stiffened, and he looked apprehensive as John rode toward him, but Shelby stopped, allowing the other miners to pass him, and waited for John to ride up and draw rein.
John swung down from the saddle and stepped up to Wayne. “Mr. Shelby, I’ve to come to Central City on business. Since I was already here, I thought I would come to the mine and see you.”
Shelby’s heart was beating rapidly. “See me about what?”
“I’m still very concerned about you. I wanted to talk to you once more about your need to make the Lord Jesus Christ your Saviour.”
Shelby was shaken by John’s presence. Suddenly hearing about salvation again had his stomach quivering. He did his best to hide his nervousness, saying, “Chief Brockman, I mean no offense toward you as a law officer, but—but—”
“But what?”
Wayne’s next words were flung at John like bullets. “I’m just not interested in your gospel stuff!”
With that, Shelby turned and walked away, hurrying from the mine.
John’s heart was heavy as he swung atop Blackie and rode toward home. As he put Blackie to a gallop, he said, “Lord, I just can’t give up on that man. My family and I will keep praying for his salvation.”
On Wednesday night at the midweek church service, John told Wally and Linda Higgins about seeing Wally’s uncle at the mine the previous day and how Wayne had flat-out said he was not interested in John’s “gospel stuff.”
“I’m sorry Uncle Wayne spoke to you in that manner, Chief, but Linda and I will keep praying for his salvation.”
“We sure will.” Linda nodded.
“Well, the Brockman family is going to do the same. We don’t want him to go to hell.”
“Thank you,” Wayne said. “Let’s just claim God’s prayer promises and trust Him to do whatever it takes to bring Uncle Wayne to Himself.”
NINE
On Friday evening, June 7, John sat down to the supper table following a busy day at the office. After prayer, they all started eating, and he looked at Breanna. “Honey, have you read today’s edition of the Rocky Mountain News?”
Breanna shook her head. “I haven’t had time. Why?”
“Well, when it was delivered to my office this morning, I saw on the front page that a new commander had been assigned to Fort Logan by the United States Army. He arrived just yesterday to take charge of the fort. When I saw his name, I realized that it was familiar to me.”
“Oh?”
“Mm-hmm. Ryan Alden. Nearly twenty-two years ago, when he was a lieutenant stationed at an army camp near Emporia, Kansas, I had the joy of leading him to the Lord. He is now a major general. The article said that he is a widower. His wife died just over three years ago.”
“Oh,” Breanna said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Papa,” asked Meggie, “where is Fort Logan?”
“It’s just west of Denver, honey, a few miles north of here at the edge of the foothills.”
Meggie nodded. “I’ve heard people talk about it, but I just didn’t know where it was. I sure am glad you got to lead the man who is its new commander to the Lord. Are you gonna go see him?”
John smiled at her. “Yes. I’ve already planned to go to the fort tomorrow and see him.”
“Papa,” said Paul, “I would like to meet Major General Alden. Since tomorrow is Saturday and there’s no school, could I ride along with you to the fort?”
“Of course, son. I will be glad to have you go with me.”
At midmorning the next day, John saddled up Blackie, and Paul saddled up Blackie’s father, Chance. Chance was solid black just like his son and was getting old. He could not gallop anymore, but John had said they would only walk the horses to the fort, so Paul could ride him.
John and Paul rode side by side beneath a sunny blue sky. “Papa, how did you get to lead Lieutenant Alden to the Lord?”
“Well, son, one day in August of 1867, when I was known as the Stranger, I delivered four outlaws to the Lyon County sheriff in Emporia, Kansas. After leaving Emporia toward the west, I came upon three soldiers from a nearby army post who were shooting it out with a band of six Potawatomi Indians. I rushed in to join the soldiers, and when I quickly shot two of the Indians off their horses, the other four decided to ride away. Two more were shot off their horses by the soldiers as they were riding away, and the other two were soon out of sight. Then I found that all three soldiers had received bullet wounds from the Indians before I arrived, but they’d fought back as best as they could.”
Paul looked at his father. “Brave guys, I’d say.”
“That they were, son. The four Potawatomis who had been shot off their horses were all dead. And sadly, when I was trying to help the wounded soldiers, two of them died.”
Paul frowned. “Oh. That’s too bad.”
“Yes. The one who was still alive was Lieutenant Ryan Alden. I rushed the lieutenant to a clinic in Emporia, and the doctor was able to remove the slug from his shoulder.”
“Good! Now tell me the rest of the story.”
“Well, I stayed with the lieutenant for two days at the clinic. My main reason was to try to talk to him about salvation when he got to feeling a bit better. Finally, on the evening of the second day, Lieutenant Alden was able to sit up and talk to me, so that’s when I shared the gospel with him. I had him read several salvation verses to me from my Bible. I had the joy of leading him to the Lord then and there. The next day, I took him to the army post. The post’s medic told me he would take good care of the lieutenant.”
“Uh-huh. That makes sense.”
John smiled. “Sure does. The day after that, before leaving to head for Nebraska where I had some business to handle, I encouraged the lieutenant to go to the First Baptist Church in Emporia, where I had preached about a year before, and to present himself for baptism because he had received the Lord Jesus Christ as his Saviour. Lieutenant Alden assured me that he would do so.”
“Praise the Lord!”
“Amen!” John nodded. “I have not seen Lieutenant—now Major General—Ryan Alden since.”
“What a story, Papa. I can hardly wait to meet Major General Alden.”
When John and Paul arrived at Fort Logan, they drew rein at the entrance gate. A young corporal standing guard in the twelve-foot-high tower noted John’s badge and leaned over the railing. “Hello, sir. Lawmen are always welcome here. What can I do for you?”
Noting the two stripes on the young soldier’s
shirt sleeve, John said, “Corporal, I am Chief United States Marshal John Brockman from Denver.”
The corporal smiled. “Oh! I’ve heard much about you, sir. It’s good to meet you. My name is Gary Skelding. What can I do for you?”
“Corporal Skelding, I am an old friend of Major General Alden’s. I learned just yesterday that he is now commander of Fort Logan. I would like to see him.”
“Certainly, sir!”
“And, Corporal …”
“Yes sir?”
“I would like to introduce you to this young man with me. He is my son, Paul.”
Corporal Skelding chuckled. “He looks so much like you, Chief Brockman, I figured he had to be your son.” He then looked at Paul. “Welcome to Fort Logan, Mr. Paul Brockman!”
Paul smiled. “Thank you, Corporal.”
Corporal Skelding turned and looked down at a young army private standing on the ground just inside the gate, who was listening to the conversation. “Private Smith, as you have heard, Chief Brockman and his son have come to see Major General Alden.”
Private Smith quickly opened the gate. “Chief Brockman, you and your son may dismount and lead your horses into the fort right now.”
John and Paul swung down from their horses, then led them inside the fort. As the private took them over to the general’s office, he said, “Since Major General Alden knows you, Chief Brockman, you can go ahead and knock on his door.” With that, he walked back toward the fort’s front gate.
John thanked him as he and Paul tied Chance and Blackie to the hitching post near the door of the building. Then father and son walked up to the door. John knocked and, seconds later, Major General Ryan Alden opened it.
Alden had matured a great deal, but John still would have known him if they had simply met on a street somewhere. Even though nearly twenty-two years had passed since they had last seen each other, the general smiled. “Well, I’ll be! It’s the Stranger! The man who led me to the Lord!”
Paul looked on with a smile as he watched his father and the general embrace each other in a manly but affectionate way. Indeed, there was a glad reunion between the two men.
John quickly gave Alden a short version of why he was no longer called the Stranger and explained that he was John Brockman, the chief U.S. marshal of the Western District of the country, with his office in Denver. He then introduced the general to his son, Paul.
General Alden smiled and embraced Paul in the same manner as he had embraced John, and running his eyes between them, he said, “Mr. Stranger, I—I mean, Chief Brockman, this boy really looks like you.”
John smiled. “I’m proud to agree that he does. I’m also proud to tell you that Paul plans to become one of my deputy U.S. marshals when he turns twenty-one. He’s sixteen now, so he’s got a few years to go, but I really believe he will stick with his plan.”
General Alden smiled at Paul. “Well, my boy, I sure hope your plan works out.”
“With the Lord’s help, it will, sir.”
Major General Ryan Alden’s eyes widened. “Why are we standing out here? Come on into my office so we can sit and talk.”
John and Paul followed the general into his office and were offered comfortable padded chairs while the general sat on another, facing them.
John told the general how he had read in the Rocky Mountain News that Ryan had been made commander of Fort Logan. He then added in a soft tone that the News also pointed out that Ryan was a widower.
Alden’s eyes misted. “Yes. Lila went home to be with the Lord in March of 1886, Chief.”
“Well, she’s waiting up there for you, General. You will have all eternity together.”
“Sure will.” The general nodded. “Lila’s being saved goes back to you, Mr. Stranger.”
John’s eyebrows arched. “Me?”
“Yes. Let me tell you the story.” Ryan Alden began by telling John that he had been baptized at Emporia’s First Baptist Church some two weeks after John had led him to the Lord. Then he told him how he met a lovely young lady in Emporia about a year after he had become a Christian. Her name was Lila Shields. He had the joy of leading her to the Lord, and she was baptized at his church the next Sunday.
Tears filled his eyes as he told John of marrying Lila a short time later, what a wonderful marriage they had, and how she had become quite ill and died.
The tears now spilled down Alden’s cheeks. “Chief Brockman, if you had not led me to the Lord, I would not have led Lila to Jesus, and she would not have gone to heaven.”
The general rose from the chair, bent over John, and hugged him once more, saying with joy, “My sweetheart is indeed in heaven, and I will certainly join her there someday!”
There was rejoicing in the Lord among Alden and the Brockmans because of this.
“General, do you have any children?” John asked.
A wistful expression filled Alden’s eyes. “No sir. Lila was not able to have children. And with Lila’s passing, that leaves me alone, family-wise. But the army has sort of become my family, and I’m grateful for that.”
“I’m sure you are.” John smiled. “We all need someone to call family. My family and I are members of Denver’s First Baptist Church, and I invite you to come to the services tomorrow. Our pastor’s name is Robert Bayless, and he is really a great preacher. You will like him and his preaching, I guarantee it. And, of course, I want you to meet my wife, Breanna, and our daughters, Ginny and Meggie.”
“Chief, I really want to meet them. I will be there tomorrow.”
“Great!” Paul popped his hands together.
“Amen!” John told the general how to find the church in Denver and gave him the times of the services.
Having done this, John said, “You were talking about family, General. Because you are saved, you know you are in the family of God, which takes in every born-again child of God in heaven and on earth, and there’s a good crowd of us at First Baptist Church. So you do have family outside of the military. We have such a friendly church. You’ll feel very welcome there.”
The general grinned. “Well, as I said, I’ll be there tomorrow, and no doubt, I will present myself for membership.”
“You might as well plan to stay for the whole day, General. Knowing my wife, she will want you to come to our house for Sunday dinner, and Breanna and our two daughters are tremendous cooks. Believe me, you wouldn’t want to miss out on dinner at our house!”
A look of glee passed over Ryan Alden’s face. “Well, after eating all those army meals for so long, that sounds like a little bit of heaven to me. Now tell me about Breanna, Ginny, and Meggie.”
Cheerfully, John told the story of how, as the Stranger, he met Breanna, fell in love, and married her at Denver’s First Baptist Church on Sunday afternoon, June 4, 1871. He went on to tell the general about his three fine children and how the Lord had blessed them with sweet spirits, intelligent minds, and fine characters.
Alden said, “Wow! What a story! God sure has blessed you, Chief Brockman.”
“Indeed, God has blessed me beyond measure in giving me such a beautiful and wonderful wife, such a wonderful son, and such wonderful daughters!” John then noticed Paul smiling broadly. “What are you smiling about, son?”
“I was just thinking how the Lord has blessed Mama with such a wonderful husband and my sisters and me with such a wonderful papa!”
After spending over an hour with Major General Alden, John looked at his pocket watch. “Well, General, Paul and I had better head back to Denver. We’ve taken up quite a bit of your time.”
Smiling, Fort Logan’s commander said, “I’ve loved every minute of it. But I realize you have things to take care of at home.”
General Alden rose to his feet. John and Paul did the same. When the general stepped outside with them, Paul’s attention was drawn to a shiny wagon standing a few yards away. Two soldiers had drawn up in it and had just finished unhitching the horse team that had pulled it, and now were leading the harnessed hor
ses toward the corral several yards away.
“Wow!” Paul eyed the wagon as it glistened in the bright sunlight. “I have never seen a wagon made completely of metal before. And I’ve never seen a wagon with a big cage built into the wagon bed either. What is it used for?”
“Well, Paul,” replied the general, “the wagon is made of iron. The army has iron wagons just like this one all over the West. You know there are wild, angry Indians all over the West making war against the white people because they have been or are being forced onto reservations.”
Paul nodded. “Yes sir.”
“When the army has to battle the fierce Indians and capture some of them during a battle, the soldiers take them in these iron wagons to places where the warriors are imprisoned for their acts of violence.”
“I understand, sir. I just never knew these iron wagons existed.”
Chief Brockman interjected. “General, I know about the iron wagons, but I have never seen one up close.”
“Well, come on, Chief. I’ll let you get a close look at this one.” General Alden led father and son to the wagon that was shining in the sun. “The wagon bed is eight feet wide and twelve feet long. As you can see, the cage fits the bed exactly. The iron straps that form the cage are four inches wide, and the straps run vertically and horizontally.”
Father and son nodded.
“Each opening between the straps is only two inches square. This is to make it so no captive can reach between the straps and grab a soldier. The cage is six feet high.”
Looking again at the top of the cage, then down to its floor where it sat on the bed of the wagon, John said, “That’s what I guessed. Six feet.”
The general showed them the hinged iron gate at the rear of the cage, which was held shut by a heavy-duty padlock. “In using these iron-caged iron wagons, soldiers have been known to cram more than a dozen Indian warriors into them.”
Paul sighed. “I hope that one day soon, the Indians will decide to make peace with the white people and make no more war against them.”
The general and Paul’s father agreed. Then John and Paul swung into their saddles.
