Tennessee Kid Cooper - 1890
Shee-yoot! If I knew I was descended from a pirate, I woulda found a new callin'! Ah who am I kidding? I wouldn't trade the outlaw life for nothin'! Well I ain't one for penmanship, but I reckon it's time for me to tell my own tale. Those other Coopers were great thieves n' all, but I'd like to see one of 'em try to catch up with the Kid!
Ol' Henrietta sure did a mighty fine job continuin' the Cooper line. Thanks to her, my family's been stealin' our way up and down the eastern U.S. and across the Atlantic. I suppose my life really began when I was just a young'un, when my folks decided to pack up from New York and head out west to seek their fortune in gold. We Coopers sure love our gold! We were movin' like molasses through the plains. Bein' the rambunctious sort, I snuck away from our wagon and went to watch a steam train speed on by. I had the urge to hitch a ride on one of those. But when I came back to the trail, I was devastated to see our wagon burnt to a crisp and my family nowhere to be seen. In the wreckage, I saw what looked like giant claw marks. Seems my curiosity got the better of me.
Granted, I was lucky to be alive and to have found the Thievius Raccoonus in the scattered luggage. But now I was all by my lonesome, and my troubles were just startin'. A gang of bandits soon rode up and began lootin' what was left of the family wagon. I woulda ran, but where was there to go? All I could do was stand my ground and defend my family's belongings. So I snuck up on one of the robbers and swiped his six-iron. I had no idea how to shoot at age ten, but I wasn't gonna let 'em dash my family's honor. The robber saw me holdin' his gun up to him. Instead of fightin', he simply laughed and told me I had guts. He then said I could either let me ride with them, or keep wanderin' through the plains alone with no protection. At that time, the choice seemed easy.
The next few years weren't much fortunate. The gang only kept me around as their personal stable boy, cleaning up after 'em. I barely made a fraction of what they looted from robberies. But what choice did I have? I was too weak to fight, and they wouldn't let me go anywhere having known their names. But I still kept this book hidden with me, learnin' about my grandfolks and all their fancy moves. Didn't teach me anything about how to shoot though. Turns out it didn't need to.
One day when I was sixteen, I gave a tip to the boss about a rich landowner aboard the nearest train, the 3:10 to Mesa City. Luckily he agreed to let me come along for the heist since I had found it out. What those bumpkins didn't know was that the landowner was aboard the 3:00 to Mesa City and the 3:10 was a military train. Those boys were tough, but they didn't do their research on train time tables. Sure enough, when we flagged down the 3:10, a whole mess o' soldiers poured out and held the guys at gunpoint. By that time I was already hightailin' it down the track. But my freedom wouldn't come yet.
Some of the soldiers were gainin' on me as I made my escape. I tried to think of what to do, how my forefathers woulda gotten outta such a scrape. Somethin' about thievin' opportunities came to mind. That's when I started seein' things. At first I thought it was heatstroke, but I saw blue stars dottin' along the railroad. Actin' on nothin' but adrenaline, I jumped onto the rail...and immediately started slidin'! I shot down that track faster than a coffee-swillin' jackrabbit on a firecracker! To this day, I don't know a lick of how this whole thief magic works. But I was just happy to outrun those troopers, and more importantly those lead-brained robbers. I decided to just enjoy the ride for a spell.
But wouldn't ya know it! About ten minutes of slidin' later, I saw the back of another train up ahead. It had to be the 3:00 to Mesa City with the landowner aboard! After gainin' a little more speed, I leaped onto the caboose; my boots were now sizzlin' at the soles. I snuck onto the roof and started makin' my way up the train. Lo and behold, the first car behind the engine was a private coach full of opulent doodads. I never actually tried any thievin' till that point, but how could I pass up that opportunity? Coopers are all about opportunity. I busted into that coach ready to steal that landowner's every last penny. What I was surprised to find inside was the landowner.
The fat ol' coot pointed a revolver at me, ready to defend his keep. I was foolish not to bring a weapon, but I still had my ancestor's instincts at the ready. In a flash, I yanked an umbrella from a stand and swiped the revolver with the cane handle. Now with the gun in hand, I ordered the landowner to move to the car behind us. After the coward complied, I uncoupled the cars and the bulk of the train soon petered away behind me. After threatenin' the engineers off the locomotive, I was finally alone with my first haul aboard the one remainin' car. And boy howdy what a haul it was!
Thousands of dollars in bonds and bank statements I swiped from that coach. I even found the deed to a thousand-acre cattle ranch. And not a single shot I fired! Turns out, when I found the place, the ranch had been taken over by a group of Navajo squatters. Suited me just fine; I was more than happy to give 'em the deed from that rich fatcat. In exchange, the Navajo let me shelter up with 'em for the time being and even showed me how to use the sixer I had stolen. I even fashioned it with a little Cooper crook in thanks to my ancestors.
By the time I made my way into Mesa City sometime later, word had spread about the stunt I pulled. People all over the saloon were talkin' about how a kid raccoon managed to evade the troops and rob a train of riches blind, all while skatin' the rails on his own feet. It weren't long before Sheriff Enrico Fox began postin' a reward for this "Kid Cooper". No doubt I had to lay low and figure out how to spend my hard earned cash. But before I could ditch town, I was once again held at gunpoint.
A big bruiser of a bounty hunter named Murdoch recognized my face and ordered me to come quietly so he could claim the reward. But when I showed the big galoot the cash I had stolen, he changed his tune right quick. I promised him that I'd more than double the price on my head if he helped me rob more rich folk. Sure enough, Murdoch and I teamed up and began holdin' up every robber-baron this side of the Mississippi! Soon we even had enough loot to employ a whole posse of gunslingers to our cause. And with each robbery we pulled, the bounty on my head went up and so did my pride.
Times are changin' now even as I write my own chapter in this trusty book. The wild west is bein' tamed and it seems I'm one of the last of the great outlaws. But a feelin' in my gut tells me I won't have time to add more to my legacy. I just heard from Murdoch that most of the gang had been wiped out by some monster of a bounty hunter, somethin' about a mechanical bird. I think he may be blowin' smoke, but I think now's the time to start takin' protective measures. I caught word of a raccoon in England goin' by the name Cooper and amassin' a hefty fortune, too much of a coincidence I reckon. Maybe this book will be safer in the hands of a posh Brit than a rough-n-tumble rattler like me.
For now, I'll keep runnin' through the plains as far as the rails will take me, till I find me a place to stash all my gold. I don't much care what kind of mechanical menace is comin' after me. 'Cause no machine is faster than the Kid!