Rawhide
Incident of the Sterling Fox
Chapter 2
With Wishbone and Mushy driving the wagon, the older man still bickering about the water barrel incident, and Rowdy riding close beside them, the three drovers made it into town just as the sun was beginning to dip its way towards the horizon. The blue sky was fast fading from a pure, sweet blue to the yellows and oranges that the sunset brings.
It was a fair sized town, not very big but not terribly small either. On the outskirts of the town there were a few small farms. The first building they came to was the Wiley General Store, across the street stood the combination bank and post office. Wishbone pulled the team to a halt in front of the general store. The store's exterior was white and the paint was beginning to peel from the harsh conditions of the winds that swept through the town. The letters above the framed doorway, which revealed the name of the building, were a faded red. Farther on down the street past a noisy saloon, more houses, and a doctor's office, stood the livery stable and blacksmith. Beside the general store, where Mushy and Wishbone were now about to make their way into the building, was the sheriff's office.
"I'll mail these letters first, then I'll meet you back here after I get Fox shoed. You'll be done by then, won't you, Wish?" Rowdy called out to the cook.
Looking a bit irritated for being asked such a ridiculous question, Wishbone whirled around to face Rowdy. "Of course, I will. It don't take me all day just to pick up a few supplies like some people." Wishbone glared pointedly at Mushy who was fingering a blue plaid shirt. When Mushy felt Wishbone's eyes boring into him, his face flushed and he smiled embarrassedly as he went ahead into the store to wait for the cook.
Wishbone looked skyward and threw his hands up in the air. "Don't know what I'm gonna do with that boy," he muttered.
Yates found himself smiling at their antics and trotted Fox across the street to the Sterling Post Office and Bank. After dismounting and tying the split reins loosely around the hitching rack, Rowdy gave his sorrel horse one final pat and headed up the steps into the post office. There were four other men with sweat-soaked, winded horses about to go inside as well. I hope I don't have to wait behind them in line, the ramrod thought. He had promised Mr. Favor he'd be back to help bed down the herd and he didn't want to be late.
The inside of the vast building was eerily quiet. Off to the left side of the interior was the post office part, and along the back and curving around to the right was the bank. Rowdy glanced around curiously at the nervous looking clerks and their furtive glances at him. He tried to shrug off the feeling of impending danger, but it still stuck with him. Walking up to the window where the postmaster was sorting letters, Yates cleared his throat.
The thin man turned around and pushed up his thin wire-framed glasses that seemed to match his own build. "Yes, sir? How may I help you?"
Rowdy pulled the letters out from his pocket and laid them on the counter. "I'd like to have these mailed. I'm ramrodin' a herd a few miles west of here and-" His sentence was cut short by a loud crashing sound at the door.
Standing in the doorway, were three of the men whom he had seen just outside a few minutes before. In their hands were gleaming revolvers. None of the men looked hesitant to use them.
They're bold, they ain't even wearin' masks! Rowdy glared angrily at them. He clenched his jaw in anger and glanced over at the postmaster. The small man was wringing his hands and his eyes shifted back and forth nervously. One of the men was prodding one of the tellers with his pistol. Both tellers had their hands high in the air and with no other choice at the moment, they began handing over the money from the safe.
Outside, a clear high neigh filled with fear reached Rowdy's ears. Fox!, he tried to see what the fourth man might be doing outside but the windows were dusty and covered with dirt. He hoped Fox was just being his usual high-strung self but no matter how much he tried to reason with himself, he knew the fourth gang member must be gathering fresh horses for their getaway.
The men hadn't seemed to notice the young ramrod and the postmaster, so Rowdy decided to take a chance. His hand reached toward his pistol. But no! He wasn't fast enough. As the barrel of the gun cleared Rowdy's holster, the swift movement caught one of the gang member's eyes and he drew on Rowdy.
The man's gun went off and Rowdy's answered with a sharp reply of its own. The other man yelped and grabbed his shoulder. But he still had his gun in his hand. He shot once more. Rowdy felt an intense pain shoot along the side of his head and suddenly the world began to swim before his eyes. He tried to squeeze the trigger in one final attempt but the effort was too much. His gun clattered to the floor and the young ramrod fell. He felt something slam into his shoulder. His vision was becoming even more blurred and he was having trouble seeing what was happening. But he could hear. The noises were faint, but there they were. There were more gunshots that and he heard a faraway neigh. The pain was becoming more intense now. Rowdy fought to keep hold of consciousness but finally gave in to the pain. He slipped into a large blackness and the world around was enveloped in an unending void.