The Iron Wagon

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The Iron Wagon Page 7

by Al Lacy

Paul gave his mother and sisters the whole story that was in the article. Breanna and the girls were astonished.

  “Honey, why haven’t you told us about it?” Breanna asked.

  John’s face was still flushed with embarrassment as he replied, “Well, I was sure that you and the children would hear about the incident, but if I had been the one to tell you, it would appear that I was bragging, since one of them is a contender for the heavyweight championship of England. So I refrained from telling any of you.”

  A smile spread over Breanna’s lovely face. “Darling, you are something else. Most men would have been bragging all over town of the notable deed you accomplished. But you take it all in stride and give God the glory for the great strength and outstanding ability you have with your fists.”

  “That’s right, Papa!” said Paul. “Mama’s got it right!” Both girls verbally agreed.

  Smiling shyly, John ran his gaze over the faces of his dear ones. “It is by God’s grace that I’m even still alive after the life I have lived and the characters I’ve met and had to deal with. He alone is my Protector, my wisdom, and my strength.”

  “You always know exactly what to say, my love.” Breanna squeezed his hand. “Thank you for letting the Lord lead in your life, as you then lead our lives as husband and father.”

  After a few seconds of silence, Paul said, “Papa, I commend you for knocking out both of those British bullies. I sure hope that by the time I become one of your deputy U.S. marshals, I’ll be as tough and as good with my fists as you are.”

  “I hope so too, big brother.” Ginny smiled at Paul.

  “Me too!” Meggie squealed.

  John chuckled. “Oh, you’ll be tougher and better with your fists than I am, Paul.”

  The next day, Judge Dexter sentenced the two British bullies to six months in the county jail for what they had done to Truman Richardson.

  Two weeks later, the area high school boxing championship matches took place in the Denver High School gymnasium.

  In his final fight of the season, Paul Brockman’s opponent was Bret Watson, a senior from Golden High School in Golden, Colorado. The rugged-looking Bret outweighed Paul by almost thirty pounds.

  Paul’s parents and sisters were there, as well as Pastor and Mary Bayless and Whip and Annabeth Langford.

  The heavyweight fight was the last to take place that evening. When the bell rang for the first round in Paul’s fight with Bret, both fighters went at it, swinging fast and hard.

  It seemed pretty much an even match during rounds one and two, but in the third round, Paul got in an extra powerful left cross to Bret’s jaw, staggering him. As Paul came after him, Bret tried to clinch to give himself time to clear his head, but Paul speedily evaded the clinch and hooked a mighty right hook to the jaw and jarred his bigger opponent to his heels.

  Bursting with rage, Bret rushed back, swinging both fists as hard as he could. Paul dodged the fists and popped him hard on the nose, sending him into another stagger. Bret attempted to retaliate but could get no power into his blows.

  Paul squared his jaw, drawing every ounce of strength he could into his shoulders and, transferring the strength into his arms, pounded his opponent with four exploding blows, knocking him against the ropes.

  Bret hit the ropes hard, bounced back, stumbling over his own feet, and fell facedown on the canvas floor of the ring. He was out cold.

  The referee counted him out. Cheers from all over the gymnasium rang out as the referee raised Paul’s right hand into the air, stating emphatically that he was the winner by a knockout. The cheers grew even louder when he also declared Paul Brockman the heavyweight champion of the Central Colorado High School League.

  While conversations took place all over the gymnasium, the boxers went to the locker rooms to change their clothes. When Paul reentered the gymnasium in his regular clothes, he saw that Bret Watson was still in the ring. He was now on his feet, but a doctor from Mile High Hospital was examining him to make sure he was all right.

  Paul’s parents and sisters stood nearby talking to the Baylesses and the Langfords. Paul headed toward them, but he was quickly stopped by some of his schoolmates who were full of admiration for him.

  The boys were congratulating Paul on winning the heavyweight championship when Paul noticed a husky man stomping toward him, anger blazing in his eyes and on his reddened face. Bret Watson looked like him. He had to Bret’s father, who was the owner of Watson Feed and Grain Company in Golden.

  Gus Watson drew up, glaring at Paul, the hostility in his eyes like the flare of a lightning bolt. Baring his teeth, the big man roared, “You didn’t have to hit my son so hard, you thug!”

  Paul felt his nerves twitching all over his body but kept a level tone in his voice. “Mr. Watson, in order to win a fight, it takes hard punches.”

  Gus, who was much heavier than Paul, angrily swung at him.

  Paul dodged the punch and stepped back. “Sir, I don’t want to fight you. Boxing is a sport and should be treated as such. I only did what I had to do in order to win the match against your son. Anyone who saw the fight would agree it was a fair and honest match.”

  “Bah! You didn’t have to hit Bret so hard!”

  Not far away, John Brockman was talking to a small group of people, but he quickly picked up on the fury of the man speaking to his son and the consternation on Paul’s face. John excused himself and hurried toward his son, while a small group of high school boys looked on.

  The big angry man charged at Paul, fists clenched. “I’m gonna beat you to a pulp for what you did to my boy!”

  Paul dodged the first fist that came toward his face, then evaded the second one adeptly. He smashed Gus’s right jaw with a powerful left hook, which stopped the big man in his tracks. Paul closed in on him, whipping a powerful right hook into Watson’s midsection, causing him to double over, then followed with a dynamite left to the jaw. Watson went down hard on the gymnasium floor, out cold.

  John moved in and laid a firm hand on Paul’s shoulder. “Don’t feel bad, son. You had to put him down. He gave you no choice.”

  Paul looked at his father and nodded. “He sure didn’t, Papa.”

  By this time, a crowd had gathered, including Breanna and her daughters, the Baylesses, and the Langfords. They had watched the whole brawl take place. Some of the school officials had heard and seen it too, and as Gus was regaining consciousness, they scolded him for what he had tried to do to Paul Brockman.

  Gus did not even reply to them. He staggered to his feet, gave Paul a hateful glare, and then in a wobbly fashion, walked in the direction of the locker room to find his son.

  The Brockmans, Baylesses, and Langfords left the gymnasium and moved outside. As they drew up to their horse-drawn vehicles, Pastor Bayless patted Paul on the back, “I’m proud of you, Paul. It’s really something for a sophomore to win the championship in his weight division.”

  Paul smiled at him. “Thank you, Pastor.”

  The Baylesses and the Langfords drove away in their buggies. When the Brockmans were about to climb into their wagon, Paul moved between his parents. “Mama, I really didn’t want to hit Mr. Watson, but he wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to explain.”

  Breanna patted his cheek. “Paul, my sweet boy, I understand. You had to defend yourself.”

  “You did fine, son,” said John. “In fact, you could have beaten Bret’s father more severely if you wanted to, but you didn’t. I’m proud of you.” John laid a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “Life on this earth isn’t always easy. Sometimes quick and wise decisions must be made in the blink of an eye. Experience will be your teacher as you grow older. Most of all, let the Lord be your source of wisdom, son.”

  “I’ll try to remember to practice your advice, Papa.”

  “Since you’re going to be a lawman, you still have much to learn. As long as God allows it, I’ll be here to help you as much as I can.”

  Breanna smiled proudly at her son. “Okay, family, let’
s head for home. I’m sure a nice hot bath will feel good to Paul’s aching body.”

  Paul flashed his mother a smile. “Indeed it will, Mama.” He gingerly moved his arms and shoulders. “Indeed it will.”

  The Brockmans boarded their wagon and headed for home with John at the reins. Breanna sat beside him on the driver’s seat, and Paul sat on a bench in the bed of the wagon beside his sisters.

  As the wagon rolled out of town toward the west, Ginny and Meggie told their brother that they thought he was already as tough and as good with his fists as Papa was.

  John laughed heartily when he heard it. Breanna giggled and said, “Girls, all those outlaws who are going to face your brother when he becomes one of Papa’s deputy marshals had better stay clear of deputy U.S. marshal Paul Brockman!”

  All the Brockmans had a good laugh together.

  EIGHT

  Quite often, John Brockman was invited to preach in churches in many parts of the West, even as he’d done during the years he was known as the Stranger.

  On Sunday morning, April 14, 1889, Pastor Bayless had John scheduled to preach at Denver’s First Baptist Church. When a ladies’ trio finished a heart-touching gospel song just before the sermon, Pastor Bayless went to the pulpit and introduced John for the sake of the visitors in the audience.

  John preached a powerful sermon on salvation, giving Scripture after Scripture on the wonder and beauty of heaven, where everyone goes when they die if, in repentence of their sins, they’ve received the crucified, buried, and risen Lord Jesus Christ into their hearts as their Saviour. He also gave them Scriptures on the horrors of the everlasting, burning hell, where everyone else goes when they die.

  He pointed out that there are only two ways to die—in Christ or in their sins. To die in Christ is to go to heaven, and to die in their sins is to go to hell, which in its final state is called the lake of fire in Scripture.

  During the sermon, John noticed two church members, a husband and wife named Wally and Linda Higgins, having a problem with a man sitting with them. During announcement time, Wally had introduced the man as his uncle Wayne Shelby, who lived in the Rocky Mountains in Central City. Wally explained that his uncle Wayne had been working in the gold mine at Central City for some five years. He had come to Denver that weekend to visit them at their request.

  Though there were only whispers between the upset Mr. Shelby and the Higginses while John was preaching, he could tell that Wally’s uncle did not like what he was hearing from the pulpit.

  When John finished his sermon, several adults and young people walked the aisle at the invitation to receive the Lord Jesus Christ as their Saviour. Saved people also came to the altar, just to thank the Lord afresh and anew for their wonderful salvation.

  Later, while the new converts were being baptized by Pastor Bayless, John Brockman noticed from the platform that Wayne Shelby moved to the aisle from his pew and stomped up the aisle toward the double doors that led into the vestibule and outside. Wally and Linda hurried after him.

  Moments later, when Pastor Bayless had dismissed the service, John, Breanna, and their children moved outside. As they neared their wagon, they saw an angry Wayne Shelby standing with Wally and Linda, who seemed perplexed.

  When Shelby saw the chief U.S. marshal, he headed toward him. John and his family halted as the gold miner drew up, looking at John with fierce eyes. Before John could say a word, Shelby hissed through gritted teeth, “I want you to know, Brockman, that I absolutely disagree with you, as well as with my nephew and his wife, who talked me into coming to church this morning!”

  John kept his voice low as his family and the Higginses looked on. “What is it you disagree with, sir?”

  “Well, just let me put it real plain. I’m an atheist. There is no God. There is no heaven, and there is no hell.”

  As John started to speak, Shelby interrupted him. “I’ll have you know, Brockman, that I have studied all phases of those three subjects—God, heaven, and hell—and before I moved to Central City from Chicago, I used to deliver lectures against Christianity. I know for sure there is nothing to it!”

  Controlling his temper, John said, “Please tell me if a man who will lecture against nothing is anything more than a fool.” While Wayne was attempting to come up with a possible reply, John said, “In the Scripture, in Psalm 14:1, it says, ‘The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.’”

  Shelby’s features went dark red. Before he could utter a word, John said, “Let me remind you that I just preached from God’s Word, warning lost sinners that if they die without repenting of their sins and receiving the Lord Jesus Christ as their Saviour, they will go to an everlasting, burning hell. Only those sinners who have repented of their sins and unbelief and received the Christ of Calvary as their Saviour will go to heaven.”

  Shelby frowned and curled his upper lip. “So you’re telling me that as an atheist and an unbelieving sinner, I will go to hell when I die, right?”

  “That’s right.” John lifted up his Bible. “But when you hit the flames of hell, you will no longer be an atheist. You will know God exists then! There are no atheists in hell. While screaming in the flames of hell now, they all know that there indeed is a God and that He means every word He says in His Bible. Like sinners here on earth who believe God does exist but try to add religious deeds to gain salvation instead of receiving Jesus into their hearts as their Saviour, you will burn in hell forever.”

  By this time, a number of people entering the parking lot to go to their buggies and wagons began to gather close by and observe the scene.

  John went on. “A few years ago, there was a man here in Denver who was an atheist. His name was Chester Percival. When he became very, very ill, and the doctors told him he was dying, he wrote on a piece of paper the things he wanted said at his funeral. He died shortly thereafter, and the man who conducted the funeral read Mr. Percival’s comments to those in attendance. They were an attack on the Bible and Christianity, saying they were nonsense and that Christians used the Bible to spread ignorance and to impede the progress of the human race. He closed his statements with the simple words, ‘That’s all.’”

  Shelby frowned but did not comment.

  “But that wasn’t all,” John went on. “The book of Hebrews in the Bible, chapter 9 and verse 27, says, ‘It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment.’”

  He looked Shelby straight in the eyes. “Are you going to tell me you will never die?”

  “W-well, I w-will d-die, yes.”

  “Now, listen closely,” John said. “The Bible verse I just quoted says you will die. It also says you will face the judgment. The second statement is as true as the first statement. After you die, Mr. Shelby, the Bible says you will face the God you say doesn’t exist, and then you will be cast into the lake of fire, which is hell in its final and everlasting state. God says you will burn there forever.”

  Shelby gave the chief U.S. marshal a blank stare, then pivoted and stomped away, muttering angrily to himself.

  As the people watched Mr. Shelby stomp away, Wally and Linda Higgins stepped up to John and thanked him for telling their uncle Wayne exactly what he needed to hear.

  John said, “I will be praying for Wayne, that the Lord will use the Scripture he heard in the sermon, and just now, to convince him that He exists, to convict him of his lost condition, and to bring him to salvation.”

  “We will be praying the same way, Chief Brockman,” said Wally.

  That night, just before bedtime in their ranch house, John and Breanna gathered their children together in the parlor. John said, “I want us to pray together that the Lord will make Wayne Shelby so fearful of burning in hell that he will get saved.”

  “Papa …,” Meggie said with a perplexed frown on her little face.

  “Yes, sweetie?”

  “I don’t understand at all how some people, like Mr. Shelby, don’t believe that God exists. Is there something wrong in their brains?”


  “Well, Meggie,” John said, “the problem is in their cold, hard hearts. However, a cold, hard heart does affect the brain, which affects people’s thinking. Some people don’t want to admit that there is a holy God, a Supreme Being, because they don’t want Him interfering with their lives. Nor do they want to have to answer to Him for the way they live. But they will have to answer to Him, like it or not. All a person has to do is look around at God’s magnificent creation. It took the master Craftsman to design and create the universe, including this earth. Everything is wonderfully made by the hand of almighty God. And His masterpiece is the human body. Only a fool could deny that there is a God!”

  With a thoughtful look in her eyes, Meggie said quietly, “Then let’s pray, pray, pray that Mr. Shelby will see the light. It would be so awful to go through life saying there is no God, then to die and wake up in the hell he said didn’t exist! How can anyone be that dumb?”

  A smile crept across Breanna’s face as she hugged Meggie. “They aren’t dumb, sweetheart. Satan has blinded them to the truth of God’s existence.”

  Meggie nodded. “Mm-hmm. I see what you’re saying, Mama. Let’s pray for Mr. Shelby, ’cause I know that God is much stronger than Satan, and He can open Mr. Shelby’s eyes to the truth.”

  “Indeed He can, little lady,” John said, “and we will all claim God’s faithful promises and pray together earnestly that this is exactly what the Lord will cause to happen.”

  During the days and weeks that passed, as Wayne Shelby worked in the gold mine at Central City, many of the Scriptures he had heard in John Brockman’s sermon and those Scriptures John had quoted when talking to him in the church parking lot kept coming into his thoughts.

  He fought against them fiercely, trying with all his might to shake them out of his mind. The horrible thought of burning in hell forever tormented him, but he just shook his head and put his thoughts on other things. Then at night when he was in bed trying to sleep, those same Scriptures invaded his thoughts again.

 

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