“You represent the United States government,” the Lone Ranger went on, ignoring Cole. “You don’t work for him.”
“Captain!” Cole shouted.
“They started this war!” the Lone Ranger cried at the same time.
Across the room, Fuller looked confused. What was happening? If what the man in the white hat said was true…“That would mean I attacked the Comanche for no reason,” he said, the full weight of what that meant dawning on him.
Seeing his chance, Cole struck home. “That’s right, Captain. The slaughter of innocents. Their blood on your hands.”
As Cole’s words hung in the air, the Lone Ranger held his breath, waiting to see what Fuller would do next.
Finally, Fuller spoke. “These gentlemen are with the railroad,” he stated, taking his gun off Cavendish and turning it on the Lone Ranger. “Question is, who are you?”
As Fuller stepped forward, the Lone Ranger realized that he was outgunned and outnumbered. Things had just gone from bad to worse.
The Constitution barreled through the night, crossing the desert faster than any horse could travel. Finally, it rolled to a stop—right in front of the Sleeping Man mine.
As the cavalry stepped out of the train and fanned out, Cole, Cavendish, and Fuller made their way to one of the shafts off to the side. Inside sat eight freight cars covered with tarps. Pulling aside one of the tarps, Cavendish revealed several tons of pure silver.
The sight made Cole smile and he reached out a hand. “Out here it’s just rock,” he said. “Put it on a train, it’s priceless.”
Picking up a hunk of silver, Fuller held it up. It sparkled in his hand. “My God.” He whistled. “What could you buy with all that?”
“A country, Captain,” Cole answered. “A great country for which our children will thank us.”
As the three men continued to talk among themselves, a line of mine workers shuffled past, their heads lowered, big hats hiding their faces. At the end one of the workers shuffled along, carrying a stuffed crow in a cage. Noticing the strange sight, one of the soldiers cocked his head. Why would a worker be carrying a stuffed bird? But then he shrugged. What did it matter? There was a lot left to do and little time to do it.
With a shout, he ordered the men to start decoupling the cars at the end of the Constitution. They would be moved to a side track, allowing the Constitution to back up into the shaft where the silver cars were waiting. When the train steamed back into Colby, no one would know that the cars had been switched.
In all the confusion, the worker carrying the birdcage slipped inside the mine and disappeared from view. But he hadn’t gone completely unnoticed. Out of the corner of his eye, a soldier saw the worker and started after him.
Inside the Constitution’s parlor car, Rebecca watched as workers raced around, preparing the train. Then she saw the Lone Ranger pass by the window, bound and escorted by soldiers. She gulped. That could mean only one thing. He was going to be executed.
Rebecca whirled around as the door behind her opened. It was Cole. “Please don’t do this,” she begged, pointing outside to the Lone Ranger. “I’ll do what you want.”
For a moment, he didn’t speak. “I was at Gettysburg,” he finally said. “Twelve thousand casualties before lunch. Know what I learned in all that death?” He leaned close. When she didn’t say anything, he answered his own question. “Nothing is accomplished without sacrifice.”
What did this man know about sacrifice? She had already lost her husband. She was not going to lose John, too. Before she could stop herself, Rebecca spit in Cole’s face.
Cole’s cheeks went red and his eyes filled with rage. Grabbing her, he pulled back his hand, about to strike.
“Leave her alone!” Danny shouted, jumping at Cole.
Spinning around, Cole backhanded the boy, knocking him to the ground. He had been nice long enough. Now he was going to make everyone pay.
Outside, the Constitution began to back up, while inside the mine, the head engineer stood in one of the freight cars. He wanted to make sure everything was ready to go when the main train and the freight cars connected. A shout next to the car made him look out. A soldier was holding a gun at one of the workers. In his hand the worker held a cage, which in turn held a black bird, though the bird did not appear to be moving. As the engineer peered closer, his eyes grew wide. Workers often kept birds in cages to detect odorless but dangerous gas, and the bird in this cage looked very dead—a clear sign that there was lethal gas in the mines. “There’s gas!” the engineer shouted. “GAS!” Releasing the freight cars’ brakes, he took off.
As his words echoed through the mine, people began to run. The soldier holstered his gun and ran for fresh air as the rest of the workers exited the mine, leaving the worker with the bird by himself. Slowly, the worker took off his hat and smiled. It was Tonto. Nothing cleared a mine faster.…
The Lone Ranger stood, blindfolded, on one of the mine’s manual car platforms. A line of cavalry soldiers stood opposite him, awaiting their orders.
“Ready!” Fuller shouted.
The men gripped their rifles.
“Aim!”
In unison, seven rifles lifted into the air, their muzzles pointed right at the Lone Ranger.
“FIRE!” Just as Fuller dropped his sword, all chaos broke loose. With a loud clang, the Constitution collided with the freight cars. As the firing squad was distracted by the noise, their shots went wild, ricocheting into the air.
Behind his blindfold, the Lone Ranger narrowed his eyes. What was going on out there? And more important, how was he still alive? Suddenly, he felt a jerk as the platform began to move beneath him. Then he heard a familiar voice.
“Have no fear, Kemosabe,” Tonto whispered. He stood at the front of the manual mine car, his hands poised above the pump that served as the car’s engine.
“Tonto?” the Lone Ranger said, surprised. Never had he ever thought he would be so happy to hear that crazy, bird-wearing man’s voice.
But before Tonto could reply, there was a low whizzing sound followed by a thunk. And then another. And another. Arrows shot out of the night sky, fired by invisible attackers. “What was that?” the Lone Ranger asked nervously.
THUNK! Another arrow shot down, hitting the pump in front of Tonto’s face. He gulped. “No reason for concern,” he said as he began to pump as fast as his arms would let him.
Behind them, the air filled with the sound of the Comanche war cry.
Helpless, the Lone Ranger could do nothing but wait for Tonto’s orders as they moved along. All around them, soldiers fell to the ground, arrows sticking out of their chests.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tonto saw the moving train. Whoever was driving seemed to be having trouble, and the iron giant was heading into the mine rather than out of it. Looking up at the engine room, Tonto saw Latham Cole. No wonder the train was going back. Cole had seen them. And he was as eager to prevent the two men from leaving as Tonto was eager to prevent Cole from taking the silver.
Tonto pumped more frantically. A moment later, they were plunged into near darkness as they entered the mine. Behind them, the Constitution got closer and closer.
“Tonto?” the Lone Ranger shouted nervously, the sound of the engine nearly deafening in the mine. “What is that?”
Glancing over his shoulder, Tonto cringed. The train was catching up—fast. He made a decision. “We jump,” he called, turning back to the Lone Ranger.
For the first time since they had met, the Lone Ranger didn’t balk. “Left or right?” he asked.
“We jump now!” Tonto shouted, throwing himself off the platform. He landed with a thud and began rolling down an abandoned mine shaft. A moment later, the Lone Ranger landed next to him.
On the track above, the Constitution slammed into the platform, demolishing it. Then there was a loud screech as the train came to a stop and began to reverse. As Tonto untied the Lone Ranger and removed his blindfold, they shared a smile of relief. That had been wa
y too close.
But their relief was short-lived. Hearing the sound of something rolling, they looked up just in time to see a barrel of kerosene moving right toward them. Clearly, Cole wasn’t taking any chances. He wanted the men dead—once and for all. Another barrel rolled toward them. And then there was a flash of light up on the tracks. A fuse had been lit, and soon, the rolling barrels of kerosene would explode.
This was not good.
Turning, they began to run for their lives. Looking over his shoulder, Tonto picked up the pace. Behind them was a huge fireball. Following Cole’s orders, Cavendish had lit another barrel of kerosene on fire and rolled it after them. And it was rolling very, very fast.
Up ahead, the mine shaft began to narrow. But in the dimming light, Tonto spied the sparkle of water. Nodding to the Lone Ranger, they raced right at it and jumped in, ducking under the cool surface. A moment later there was a loud BOOM, and the water shook as the barrel exploded.
Outside, the cavalry and Comanche continued their fight. But the soldiers were at a disadvantage. They were running out of ammunition and didn’t know the landscape. They couldn’t hide as easily and they were on foot. The Comanche knew the Sleeping Man mountain—and they had horses. It looked like they were going to win.
And then Fuller unveiled the Gatling guns.
Fuller brought down his sword and the soldiers began firing. The automatic weapons sprayed bullets furiously, cutting down anything and anyone that crossed their path. One by one, the Comanche were shot down. Red Knee fell, his body landing in the river, which had been clear but now ran red. Horses galloped by, trying to outrace the horrible weapon. And the guns kept firing.
Watching his warriors fall, Chief Big Bear turned and stared at the Gatling guns. Then he looked at Fuller. With a loud whoop, he charged—straight at the cavalry leader. But Fuller was ready for him. Grabbing the man’s wrist, he drove his saber into Chief Big Bear.
Behind them, the Gatling guns fell silent. There was no one left to shoot. As smoke drifted out of the automatic weapons, Chief Big Bear’s wise eyes looked right into Fuller’s. There was no fear, no pain. Just understanding, as though he had known this day would come. And then, as Fuller watched, the old man sank to the ground.
Looking down at his bloodstained gloves, Fuller began to shake. What had he just done?
Coughing and sputtering, the Lone Ranger dragged himself up onto the riverbank. Beside him, Tonto fell onto the dry land. For a moment, they just lay there, gasping for breath. Then Tonto raised himself up.
In front of them, the river was red. Tonto swallowed. It was the image that had haunted him his whole life. Overcome with emotion, he turned his back on the Lone Ranger, who looked at him with sadness. Tonto couldn’t take the pity. He needed his bird. Scanning the riverbank, he found it. The creature was lying limp near the shore. Getting to his feet, Tonto went over and picked it up.
Behind him, the Lone Ranger sat silently. Finally, he stood up and joined Tonto. “You were right,” the Lone Ranger said. “There is no justice. Cole controls everything. The railroad. The cavalry. Everything. If men like him represent the law, I’d rather be an outlaw.”
Tonto nodded. He had been waiting for this moment. “That’s why you wear the mask,” he said, reaching into his pouch. He pulled out the leather and handed it to the Lone Ranger.
Taking it, the Lone Ranger nodded. Finally, he understood. Right and wrong were not black and white. Just like good and bad weren’t so clearly separated. Wearing a mask didn’t make him a bad man. It made him a man with the ability to do good.
The sound of a tree branch splitting made them both look up. The Lone Ranger smiled. Standing high in the tree, wearing his hat, was the white spirit horse.
“Something very wrong with that horse,” Tonto said.
The Lone Ranger nodded. That might be the case, but he didn’t care. Now they had a way to get back to Colby.
A celebration was in full swing at Promontory Summit. The Transcontinental Railroad was complete. On the train tracks, the Constitution’s engine touched the engine of the Jupiter. One train from the West, the other from the East. The United States were now, well and truly, united. As a brass band played, men, women, and children eagerly awaited their chance to get close to the trains and put their hands on a part of history.
On a platform nearby, Vice President Colfax addressed the crowds. Behind him sat various shareholders and the governor of Texas.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Colfax said, his voice booming. “We are here today to celebrate a dream. And now, I would like to introduce the man who made that dream a reality.” He gestured toward a large man sitting on the closest chair. The soft man was the embodiment of a robber baron, with his manicured mustache and gaudy clothes. “Chairman of the Transcontinental Railroad Corporation. Mr. Lewis Habberman the Third.”
Slowly, the big man got to his feet and made his way to the platform. “I thank you, Mr. Vice President,” Habberman began. “My family thanks you. But I can’t take credit alone. The working men before you deserve your applause, as does one man in particular. A more dedicated, loyal employee the railroad could not ask for. Mr. Latham Cole!”
From the side of the platform, Cole stepped forward. He waved to the crowd, a smile plastered on his face.
“It is my honor to present you with this,” Habberman continued, holding out a pocket watch. “A testament of our thanks.”
Eyeing the timepiece, Cole struggled not to roll his eyes. Another pocket watch. It was infuriating. But he would get the last laugh. When he was a millionaire and richer than the fat robber baron, he would show him how much he cared for his stupid pocket watch.
The ceremony was over. Everyone was blissfully unaware of Latham Cole’s plans for the railroad and what was held in the freight cars of the Constitution. As people meandered off to enjoy the rest of the day, Cole signaled to the dignitaries making their way off the podium.
“Mr. Habberman,” he called. “If you and the other shareholders would come this way, I have a little surprise for you.”
Suddenly, there was the sound of a muffled explosion. Cole cocked his head. In the distance, he could just make out a small plume of smoke rising.
“What was that?” Habberman asked, his chins jiggling nervously.
Cole waved a hand. “Tunneling for the supply routes,” he said calmly. “No reason for concern. This way, please.” Turning, he began to lead the men into the small station house. Cavendish, dressed in fancy new clothes that did nothing to hide his ugly scars, fell into step beside him. “Get the girl,” Cole instructed out of the corner of his mouth. Then, plastering on a smile, he entered the station house, concerned about the explosion in the distance.
“Where’d you get the explosives?” Will asked. He had been listening to every word—confusing and otherwise—that the elderly Tonto had spoken. But he didn’t remember anything about getting explosives.
Tonto popped his head out of the fake teepee. “I told you,” he said.
“No, you didn’t,” Will replied, shaking his head. Tonto had told him about a talking horse, a mountain that looked like a man, a huge battle, to name just a few. But nowhere in all that had he mentioned the explosives. Will shook his head again and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.
Tonto emerged from the teepee. In his hand he held a hanger on which hung a black suit and a bowler hat. “We had a plan,” he said, brushing off the suit with a broken badminton racquet. Will narrowed his eyes. Where had he gotten that? Tonto went on. “It was a good plan.”
He continued brushing off the suit, his eyes fading as he thought back to that day long before. Then he spoke, filling Will in.
The day they had robbed the Colby Municipal Bank, they hadn’t been after the gold or cash kept in its vault. They had been after Cole’s nitrate. The railroad man had ordered his assistant to put it somewhere safe. And Wendell, lacking in imagination, had figured the safest place was, well, a safe. He had carefully stored away the e
xplosives so they would be ready when Cole needed them. What he hadn’t counted on was the Lone Ranger. The masked man had figured out Cole’s hiding spot. Then it was only a matter of a little heist and they were in control of enough nitrate to blow up a small town.
As Tonto spoke, Will smiled. He knew it! The Lone Ranger would never have really robbed a bank. But then, what was he going to do with all that nitrate?
Inside the Constitution’s parlor car, Rebecca stood silently, her face pressed up against the window. She had heard the explosion and seen the smoke, and she had a pretty good idea of what it meant.
The door behind her creaked open and Cavendish entered, two soldiers flanking him. “He’s coming for you,” Rebecca said. “Just like Frank said.”
Cavendish took a step closer. “What you got that makes them Reid boys so hot under the collar, anyway?” he said. He leaned in menacingly. “Maybe I’ll find out.”
Rebecca stared at the man’s ugly face. It no longer frightened her. She simply felt repulsion. “You’re going to die today.” A flicker of something flashed across his face and Rebecca smiled. He was the one who was scared now. “If I’m not there to watch, you think of me.”
With a cry of rage, Cavendish lunged at Rebecca. Grabbing her, he began to shake her roughly.
“Leave her alone!” Danny cried, stepping out of the shadows where he’d been hiding.
Cavendish released Rebecca but kept one hand tight on her arm. “Mr. Cole wants a word with your mama,” he sneered. Locking eyes with Rebecca, he added, “Give me any trouble, you’ll never see your boy again.”
The woman nodded. She wouldn’t give him any trouble, sure. But she had a feeling trouble was already on its way.
And she was right. Outside the train, Captain Fuller and his men were doing a final check to make sure no unwanted visitors would be taking the journey west. Noticing several soldiers loafing beside the covered freight cars, Fuller marched over.
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