The Daredevil Desperados of Destiny

by Charlie Small

  We ducked our heads as the air filled with the roar of gunfire. We’ve had it! I thought as the wagon in front of us started to collapse under a hail of bullets. Surely we were beaten; there were just too many of them. Then, with a banshee yell, Pint-pot launched himself through the bank window.

  ‘Cover me!’ he called, and stormed into the middle of the road. As the Desperados started up a barrage of their own, Pint-pot planted his wooden leg in the mud and, with a kick, started to spin round like a top.

  Rrrratatatatatat! With the destructive power of a tornado, Pint-pot fired in a furious frenzy while spinning round and round; he was as fast as a machine gun, quickly pulling one pair of pistols after another from the belts across his chest. Whizz! P’tang! Bullets ricocheted off signboards and rooftops and chimney pots, and, overwhelmed by the ferocity of the attack and in complete panic, Ham’s men threw down their weapons and scattered.

  ‘Yee-hah!’ crowed Wild Bob, walking out to congratulate Pint-pot. It was then that I heard a noise and, looking up, saw one lone gunman crouched on the portico behind us. He must have worked his way round the back during the gunfight and was just about to bring his rifle up to aim at Wild Bob Ffrance. I didn’t have time to think, but acted on instinct. I ran along the curb, unfurling my lariat at the same time. I span the rope, once, twice, and let it fly.

  The lasso tightened around a beam protruding from the porch roof, and as I grabbed the rope tight, I kicked against the sidewalk and went soaring upwards. Grip and Grapple would have been proud of me; as the rifleman cocked his weapon, I swung up above the roof and let go. Sailing silently through the air – CRASH! – I landed on the man, knocking him and his rifle to the street below.

  ‘Yippee-yi-oh!’ I cried in relief, jumping down from the portico. My heart was racing and my hands were shaking, but the bank raid was over, and although we hadn’t got any money, I was still in one piece!

  ‘Well done, Lariat Kid!’ said Wild Bob. ‘Now let’s get out of here.’

  We rode out of town to meet up with the other Desperados, and as we approached the copse, I heard them cock their rifles.

  ‘It’s only us,’ cried Wild Bob as we galloped amongst the trees.

  ‘Everything OK, boss?’ asked Mick the Miner. ‘We heard plenty of shootin’ and weren’t sure whether to come and join in the fun!’

  ‘Nothing we couldn’t handle,’ said Bob. ‘But we haven’t got the money. Ham’s already taken it and we don’t know where, darn it! He’s made us look a right bunch of charlies, no offence, Kid. We’ve got to find out where he’s taken it.’

  Just then, I spotted a small dot on the horizon. ‘Someone’s coming,’ I yelled, and immediately the Desperados drew their weapons.

  ‘Who is it, Kid?’ asked Bob.

  ‘I’m not sure, just a minute,’ I said, taking the telescope from my rucksack and training it on the approaching figure. ‘It’s that schoolmistress you were talking to. She’s riding out in a little buggy.’

  Soon the schoolmistress had steered her buggy into the copse and brought it to a halt.

  ‘I thought I might find you here, Bob,’ she said, fluttering her long eyelashes.

  ‘What do you want, Susie?’ asked Wild Bob, immediately starting to go red with embarrassment.

  ‘I bet you’d just love to know where Horatio Ham is, wouldn’t you?’ said Susie coyly, giving Bob the sweetest of smiles.

  ‘Well, sure,’ said Bob, getting a little flustered under her lingering gaze. ‘Do you know where he is?’

  ‘Oh, sure I do,’ said Susie lazily. ‘But I can’t give away information like that for nothing. Why, who knows what Ham would do if he ever found out I’d given him away.’

  ‘Of course, Susie,’ said Wild Bob, feeling in his pockets for some money. ‘How much do you want?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t want money, Bob,’ said Susie.

  ‘You don’t?’ said Bob, gulping loudly.

  ‘No, Bob, I want a kiss. A long, lingering smacker of a kiss.’

  ‘Yee-hah!’ cried the rest of the Desperados. ‘Go on, boss, give her a kiss!’

  Bob went redder than ever and, closing his eyes, he leaned from his saddle to where Susie sat in her buggy, face raised and lips puckered.

  Bob gave Susie the slightest of pecks, but Susie’s arm snaked around the back of his neck and pulled him onto her lips again.

  They kissed … and kissed … and kissed (eugh!) and the Desperados cheered until, finally, Susie let Bob go. He didn’t look quite such a wild Desperado any more; he had a stunned look on his face and his mouth was smeared with lipstick.

  ‘Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ said Susie with a smile.

  ‘No,’ croaked Wild Bob. ‘Now, where’s Horatio Ham?’

  ‘You’ll find him at the Pink Elephant Saloon, and he’s got the money with him.’

  ‘Sweet,’ smiled Wild Bob, looking more himself all of a sudden. ‘Well, boys, it looks like our trip might not be wasted after all. Thank you, Susie, you’re a pal.’

  ‘It was a pleasure,’ said Susie. ‘And you might need my help again. Ham thinks you’ve left town with your tail between your legs, even though you managed to scare off most of his men; now he’s feeling safe, but he’s still got one guard posted outside the saloon, who is armed to the teeth. I’m sure I can get rid of him quietly, if you want to take Ham by surprise.’

  Bob sat thinking a while and then said, ‘OK, Susie, if you’re sure. Kid, you and Mick the Miner, come with me. The rest of you, position yourselves around the town and keep an eye out in case Ham’s gunfighters return.’

  Main Street was still deserted as Wild Bob, Mick the Miner and I followed the schoolmistress in her buggy. The rest of the Desperados fanned out to position themselves around town. As we approached the saloon, the three of us dismounted and led our horses up a narrow alleyway, where we watched as Susie stopped her buggy outside the saloon.

  I could see her whispering something to the guard, who was armed with an array of pistols and rifles. He looked over his shoulder towards the saloon and then shrugged his shoulders and nodded. The next minute, the two of them were walking towards the alleyway, the guard still looking nervously over his shoulder.

  ‘Get back and keep quiet,’ whispered Bob, flattening himself against the wall. Mick the Miner positioned himself close to the corner, and as soon as Susie and the guard turned into the alley, he raised one of his massive fists and bopped the guard on top of his head. The guard crumpled to the floor without a sound.

  ‘Sweet! Thanks again, Susie; now, you get back home before you get into trouble,’ said Bob.

  ‘It was nothing,’ Susie said as she went to leave. ‘Now you come up and see me sometime, you hear?’

  We led our horses into the street, and crept cautiously down to the saloon. I tied Freecloud to the hitching rail and held on to Fortune as Bob tiptoed up to the saloon doors, peered inside, and then trotted back to us.

  ‘Ham’s in there,’ he said. ‘He’s sat at a long table with Mad Mickey and three others. The table is stacked full of money and they’re busy counting it.’

  ‘Shall we storm the place together, boss?’ asked Mick the Miner.

  ‘No, I mean to have some fun,’ said Wild Bob, smiling and mounting his horse. ‘You stay out here as backup, until I call you. You, Kid, you’re coming with me,’ and he leaned down and pulled me up onto the saddle behind him.

  ‘Ready, Kid?’ he asked with a grin, and before I had time to answer he sent Fortune crashing through the swing doors and galloping across the polished wooden floor of the saloon. We skirted around the side of the long, fancy table and skidded to a stop in front of an astonished Horatio Ham. The horse reared onto its hind legs and let out an ear-splitting whinny.

  Mad Mickey McKay went for his gun, sending a stack of coins crashing down, rolling and spinning across the floor. Faster than a rattlesnake’s strike, Wild Bob’s own gun appeared in his hand, cocked and pointing straight at the Marshal.

  ‘Guns
on the table, boys, and no funny business,’ said Bob, and the four men who sat at the table did as they were told. ‘Looks like you’ve been caught with your fingers in the till, Ham,’ said Wild Bob.

  ‘How dare you,’ interrupted Marshal McKay, spluttering and turning puce with anger. I can see why they call him Mad Mickey McKay now; he was absolutely fuming! ‘I’ll see you get ten years for this, you no-good, low-down farm boy.’

  ‘A farm boy without a farm,’ Wild Bob corrected him. ‘But we all know why that is, don’t we, Ham?’

  Ham shrugged. ‘All is fair in business and war,’ he sneered. Then, looking closer at Bob, he said, ‘Are you wearing lipstick?’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ said Bob, angrily wiping a sleeve across his mouth. ‘Don’t try and change the subject. I suppose you think it’s fair to commandeer all the money from Trouble Bank?’ he asked through gritted teeth.

  ‘I own the bank; by my reckoning I can do what I like with the money,’ smiled the oily Ham. ‘I’m going to use it to build a marvellous parade of new shops and casinos, saloons and theatres. It’s for the town’s own good.’

  ‘Shops that you will own, but paid for by the people; you’ll bleed the town dry,’ said Wild Bob accusingly.

  ‘Oh no, not completely dry. I have to leave them some money to spend in my shops. It’s called business,’ said Horatio Ham with a face as innocent as a baby’s. ‘I’m a businessman. What would you have me do?’

  ‘Give the people back their money,’ demanded Wild Bob.

  ‘I can’t do that, Ffrance.’

  ‘Well, I can,’ said Bob. ‘Kid, gather up all the money and dump it back in that trunk.’

  I jumped down from Wild Bob’s horse and landed with a thump on the floor. Then, under the unwavering stares of Ham, Marshal McKay and the two other men, I gathered stack after stack of banknotes and armfuls of cash and dropped them into the massive metal trunk that stood by the table.

  ‘I don’t know how you think you’re going to shift that trunk, Ffrance,’ said Ham with a smirk. ‘It took four of us to lift it onto a wagon and then two strong horses to pull the wagon here. I hope you’ve got a carthorse handy.’

  ‘Something like that,’ smiled Wild Bob. ‘Mick,’ he called. ‘Come in here a minute.’ The saloon doors burst open and in walked Mick the Miner, his legs as thick as tree trunks and his chest as wide as an ox. ‘Just lift that trunk up, would you, Mick?’ asked Bob.

  Horatio Ham snorted in derision, but Mick walked around the trunk, inspecting it from every side. He got down on his haunches and carefully tested its weight; satisfied, he heaved the trunk onto his back without a second’s hesitation.

  ‘What do you want me to do with it, boss?’ his deep voice rumbled.

  ‘Take it to Rafferty’s store and tell him to make sure everyone in town gets what they are owed,’ Wild Bob replied, and as if he were carrying nothing heavier than a blanket roll, Mick the Miner strolled out of the Pink Elephant Saloon.

  ‘Kid, use your rope skills and tie them up good and tight,’ said Wild Bob, throwing down a long length of rope he had looped over the pommel of his saddle. I fished the hunting knife out of my rucksack, cut the rope into four equal lengths and started to loop one around Ham, tying him tight to his chair.

  ‘You won’t get away with this, Wild Bob,’ said Horatio Ham, spitting with anger. ‘Anyway, I’ll just take the money back again.’

  ‘That would be a big mistake,’ said Wild Bob, suddenly looking very dangerous and levelling his gun at Ham’s head. ‘I won’t be as lenient a second time. So, you’ve got to ask yourself, punk – is it worth the risk. Well, is it, Ham?’

  Horatio Ham stared back at Bob, his face livid and running with sweat, but he didn’t say a word. Then, from down the road, we heard the sound of gunfire. Some of Ham’s men had returned and were starting to make a nuisance of themselves.

  ‘Time to go, Kid,’ said Bob. ‘Go outside and mount up.’

  ‘You’ll pay for this, boy, you just see if you don’t,’ yelled Ham, straining at the ropes that bound him.

  I don’t think so, I thought as I ran outside and jumped onto the back of Freecloud; we’re out of here! Oh, but if only I had looked more closely at my saddle, I might not have been so confident.

  Looking back inside the saloon, I saw Wild Bob have a few parting words with Ham and then, just for the fun of it and in true Daredevil style, he launched his horse into a mighty leap. With an ear-shattering whinny and a wild look in his eye, the horse cleared the great oak table, his hooves missing the top of Ham’s head by centimetres, and came clattering out through the swing doors.

  ‘Let’s go, Kid,’ yelled Bob, and galloped away down Main Street. I kicked Freecloud and she streaked away at top speed. Bob was some way ahead of me and the other Desperados were on their steeds and firing a few parting shots at Ham’s regrouped forces.

  All of a sudden, I came to a juddering halt and found myself hanging in mid-air still astride my saddle, as Freecloud galloped away from under me. I came crashing down in a cloud of dust, and as the dust cleared, I saw that the street ahead of me was deserted. The Desperados hadn’t realized I was no longer on the back of Freecloud, and the whole gang were disappearing back towards Destiny.

  Looking down at my saddle, I could see what had happened. Someone had anchored one end of my lasso to a hitching post and the other end to my saddle. Then, by cutting part way through the girth straps, they had guaranteed I wouldn’t be going anywhere. But who could have done it?

  ‘Well, if it isn’t the Lariat Kid,’ said a voice, and turning round, I met the smug smile of Silas Ham, Horatio’s spoilt brat of a son. ‘Not quite so cocky now, are you?’

  So that’s how I have ended up here, waiting for the special surprise that Horatio Ham has promised me.

  I was completely winded when Ham Junior yanked me off Freecloud’s back, and it wasn’t hard for him to wrap my own rope around me and lead me like a pet dog, back into the Pink Elephant Saloon. How embarrassing; the Lariat Kid caught with his own lariat!

  Inside, Silas Ham tied me to a table leg and went over to free his father and the others. ‘Did I do good, Pa?’ he asked.

  ‘You did just fine, my boy,’ said Horatio Ham as he shook himself free of the rope and limped towards me. I smiled when I saw that his foot was still giving him trouble. ‘As for you, Master Lariat,’ he continued, ‘you didn’t get very far, did you, you pesky varmint? What’s more, your beloved leader didn’t hang around to save you either, did he? Some friend he is.’

  I knew that wasn’t fair and that Wild Bob wouldn’t have known Freecloud was riderless as she thundered along in his wake. I was sure that as soon as he realized the truth, he would organize a rescue party. In the meantime I had more pressing things to worry about.

  Marshal McKay came marching over, his face still red with anger and his fingers twitching above the guns that hung at his sides.

  ‘Want me to finish him now, boss?’ he asked. ‘It would be a real pleasure!’

  ‘Oh no, not yet. He might just tempt Ffrance back into town to try and rescue him, and then we’ll be more than ready for him and his dumb Desperados. Anyway, I have a big surprise waiting for this pest, early tomorrow morning.’

  Marshal McKay gasped. ‘You don’t mean …’ he began.

  ‘That’s exactly what I do mean,’ said Ham with a chuckle. ‘We already have one hapless victim, and I’m sure a second won’t be unwelcome. Now, get him out of my sight; take him over to the jail and put an extra guard on. No, put ten extra guards on!’

  McKay frogmarched me straight to the jailhouse. Once inside, he unhooked a ring of large keys from the wall, pushed me into an empty cell and locked the door.

  ‘Welcome to Trouble’s premier bed and breakfast establishment,’ he grinned. ‘Except there’s no bed, and you’re gonna be the breakfast!’

  ‘What are you on about?’ I said nervously.

  ‘You’ll find out soon enough! Bye bye,’ said McKay, and closed th
e door that separated the cells from his office.

  It’s been a long, long night but I don’t really want it to end, because as soon as dawn breaks, I know that Ham will give me the big surprise he’s promised.

  My first impressions of my temporary home were not good. The walls, although wooden, are thick, and the only window is heavily barred. I have a companion, however; the young Indian brave I mentioned earlier, and I thought that at least I’d have someone to talk to.

  ‘Hi, I’m Charlie Small,’ I said to the boy. ‘What are you in for?’ But my question was ignored. He didn’t even look in my direction, or give any sign that I existed. He just sat cross-legged on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

  ‘We might as well be friends, seeing as we’re both in the same boat,’ I said. ‘Do you know what’s going to happen tomorrow morning – the great surprise?’

  Again the boy didn’t answer, continuing to stare into space. Perhaps he’s in shock, or in some sort of trance, I thought. Or perhaps he’s just really unfriendly, so I’ve given up trying to talk to him and now I’m looking for a way to break out.

  I’ve been through my rucksack, hoping that something in my explorer’s kit would give me an idea how to escape from this cell, but everything I’ve tried so far has been useless. I’ve tried gouging my way through the timber walls, first with my hunting knife and then with the crocodile’s tooth, but the timbers are far too thick.

  A pebble has just flown through the bars of the window and landed with a smack on my head. OUCH! Who would do such a stupid thing? Hold on, though, there’s a piece of paper wrapped around the stone. It must be a message from Wild Bob. All my troubles are over! Wait a minute and I’ll see what it says …