Chapter 4
Dirty Jasper was itching for coin
To throw after women and song,
Old Lenny was sure that some trinkets would cure
His thirsting for booze before long.
But Slim was just there for the fun
Of hearing another man scream
Buckeye Joe, who was wanted in three states or more,
Reckoned he’s just a-living his dream, lads,
A true desperado’s great dream.
Their pistols ablazin’ and lassos swung high,
They closed on the coach with a yippee-ky-yi!
First Dirty Jasper crested the team
And Slim leapt onto the seat
The brave coachman fought for the reins but he lost,
And tumbled down head over feet.
With Slim tugging hard on their reins
And Jasper controlling their heads,
The horses were forced as a matter of course
To leave their poor driver for dead, my lads,
They left their poor driver for dead.
The family inside prayed their lives would be spared;
Of them our four villains were yet unaware…
Lenny and Jasper went way back. They went so far back they even shared a father, or so the rumor had it. Growing up where they had with the mothers they had, it sure was possible. Also in favor of the argument was the way their eyes squinted and their mouths puckered up when they were thinking hard, which happened often. Many things required Lenny and Jasper to think harder than the average person. That was one of the reasons Slim liked riding with them so much: when the thinking got too hard and started taking too long, he could tell them what to think and they would accept it, grateful to be spared the strain of figuring it out themselves. Slim sneered at their stupidity even though he knew it was to his own benefit. He was cruel as they come and had escaped the gallows by sheer luck, though every lawman in the West would love to get a noose around his neck. He was cold, calculating, and took pride in his nefarious gift for outlawry. Slim, as they say, was the brains of the outfit.
Too bad Buckeye Joe, the fourth of their gang, was a little too smart for Slim’s liking sometimes. Slim wasn’t quite sure why Joe tagged along with them. He had just appeared one day, reckoned he’d come with them on a bank robbery, and hadn’t left since. His eyes always seemed to be nearly closed and Slim couldn’t tell half the time if Buckeye Joe was fully awake or not, but dang it the man was a surer shot than any Slim had seen before, and no matter what Slim tried Joe seemed to hang around like a tick on the back of a dog.
When Slim heard rumor that a stagecoach fat with payrolls and the belongings of a wealthy traveler would be traveling west along the route to California, he had decided his posse would pursue it. Pickings had been scarce for a while, and he dared not dismiss a rumor which sounded so enticing. Problem was, the informer had said the coach would be coming along their way no sooner than four days hence, and what Slim had overlooked was the fact that it had taken the informer three days just to reach them with the news. Thus he and his posse were ready and waiting a safe distance from the trail a good day and a half after the stagecoach had already passed.
Buckeye Joe had been the first to figure it out. Long chafing under the sarcastic tongue of Slim’s leadership, Joe had been delighted to point out Slim’s mistake to the other two, taking pains to explain it in small words they were sure to understand. Lenny and Jasper had understood, all right – they’d understood, as Slim sat furiously on his mustang, that all possibility of booze, poker and good times were nearly a two-day ride ahead of them. Slim had done his best through clenched teeth to woo back their loyalty, promising Lenny all the drink his gut could handle, and Jasper – sometimes called “Dirty Jasper” because of his fondness for brothels – the finest burlesque the closest two-horse town could muster. But Buckeye Joe was still smirking to himself, and Slim was not confident in his promises.
They rode hard after the coach, pressing their mounts as much as they dared to catch up. Now it took shape on the horizon as a cloud of dust, growing larger by the hour. The tracks it left on the trail before them were distinct, implying a heavy load. The four men grinned at each other in anticipation of what could make that kind of weight. Slim’s spirits lifted even more when he perceived the stagecoach was actually stopping up ahead. This was going to be a cinch!
He signaled to the others and they swooped off the trail, planning on taking the coach as much unawares as possible. Of course they would be spotted soon enough, but the closer they could get before then, the better. All went according to plan, and before they knew it the coach was scrambling for speed before them like a juicy hog in a fresh mud hole. The men whooped and hollered excitedly as they moved in for the kill, swinging their lassos for the necks of the team of horses pulling the coach. No one but Slim seemed concerned that five people other than the coachman had jumped inside the stagecoach before it started to move.
Brushing that fact aside as best he could, Slim steered for the side of the stagecoach and drew his pistol out at the ready.
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