Disclaimer on first chapter.

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Letters to an Almost Cowboy



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Chapter Three


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Madison Square


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Jack,

I know you are overwhelmed right now, trying to find Racetrack, but I can't wait anymore.  I want you to see me.  Don't you want to see me?  If you do, meet me outside of Tibby's Saturday at noon.  I hope I'll see you there.

Love,

An Almost Stranger




Loverboy,

Finally!  Your admirer will reveal herself!  What do you think she looks like?  Brown hair and eyes, like Sarah?  Or something more exotic?  What do you think?  Aren't you excited?  We're practically bursting!  You'll meet her soon!

This could be the start of a beautiful relationship.

Anxiously,

The Young Romantics Association




Mr. Kelly,

Stop swooning over love letters and get your butt in the washroom!  Don't you have more important things to worry about?  Like, say, SAVING RACETRACK?!  Yeah.  So how are you going to raise seventy-five dollars by tomorrow night?  You certainly can't pay for all of it.  What about that Santa Fe money you keep locked up under your bed, huh?

Oh, of course not.  You would never spend that money.  Selfish, much?

We've got an idea.  Ask everyone in this lodging house to donate just a dollar to the 'Give Race a Chance' Foundation.  There are about thirty boys in your lodging house, Jack.  That's thirty dollars a day.  Collect at night.  That way you have two nights to collect.  Sixty dollars.  You would still need fifteen.

Didn't Spot tell you he would help?  Go ask him, fool.

There, now that you've got that under control, what are you still doing in the washroom?!  Get your butt down to the lobby and roundup your boys so you can tell them your plan!  Go, go, go!

—Advice for Leaders, Ltd.




Cowboy!

Good speech!  The words just rolled off your tongue so naturally!

You gathered you boys in the lobby (and of course everyone stayed there throughout your entire speech.  You are an amazing leader, you know?) and cleared your throat and everyone silenced like a flicker of flame disappearing.  Everyone looked at you with such hope and then you said:

"Boys, by now you all know that our good friend Racetrack is missing."  Murmurs of agreement here.  "Well, we know now that he is being held for random by a couple of thugs."  Cue the appreciative gasps.  "They want seventy-five dollars for him.  And we'll give it to them."

"Why don't we just hunt 'em down and soak 'em?" Boots asked.

"Because I don't want none of my boys to get hurt.  I'm not taking any chances.  They might have guns."  A few nods of consent.  Well handled, Cowboy!

"And so, in order to raise the money, I need each of you to give me a dollar a night."

"What?" an enraged Skittery screamed.

"Come on, Skitts.  They want the money tomorrow night.  You can spare a dollar a day for two days.  For Racetrack.  I mean, how many times has he lent you guys two bits of something 'cause you had a bad selling day?"

Skittery looked a bit ashamed and mumbled something, but he agreed.  Amazing, Cowboy.  With your persuasive powers of speech, we bet you could convince them to think left was right.

Cheers,

The Pepper-Uppers Alliance




Dear Cowboy,

How much are you donating to 'Give Race a Chance?'  Huh?  Two dollars?  Don't you have nearly ten dollars saved up under your bunk?  Why aren't you giving more money?  Leaving Spot to raise fifteen dollars?  You know he doesn't want to have to involve his boys.

We bet Spot would give his savings to help Racetrack.

Think on it,

Guilty Consciences R'Us




Spot,

Need a little help with getting Racetrack back.  Meet me tomorrow at noon at my end of The Bridge.

—Cowboy




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End Chapter Three

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