Young, skinny, wiry fellows, not over 18. Must be expert riders, willing to risk death daily. Orphans preferred. Wages $25 per week. Apply PONY EXPRESS OFFICE.
The Pony Express was created to get the mail form coast to coast. Boys became men, I...
"Come on Ludlow, let's get you up to the jail", Sand drug the small, very drunk man up out of his chair.
"As ya wish ya honor", Harold Ludlow mumbled an almost not understandable tone. Stumbling along he followed Sand down the street with a few verbal cues and the occasional push in the right direction. They entered the jail to find Rocky half asleep on the desk chair.
"You want your usual spot for the night?", the Marshal asked.
"Of course. Can't beat what you know best when it comes to comfort."
Sand nodded wearing a slight smile. Harold Ludlow was formerly one of the best lawyers in the country. Unfortunately he didn't always agree with the proper political figures, so when he spoke out against them, they had him made into a public ridicule. He came out west to promptly begin drowning his sorrows in a bottle. A fresh start would have been easy away from the cities of the Eastern seaboard, but instead he chose to give up. Sand was kind enough to watch out for him during the times when he was too drunk to walk. The Marshal would place him in a jail cell to let him sleep it off, then let him go on his way in the morning.
"FIRE!! The hotel is on fire!", someone yelled from outside. Rocky jerked awake just in time to see Sand go barreling out the door. Slapping his hat on his head he followed his older brother through the exit. Flames were shooting every directions as a line of people worked to stop the fire. Bucket after bucket was splashed on the building. Sand and Rocky both wound up at the head of two of the lines directly facing the flames. All night they worked to put out the fire, but by morning only a few timbers remained.
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
Jenny wrinkled her nose at the smell of smoke that drifted over the town.
"Another fire, would be my guess", Billy, Zack, Lance, and Ivy were riding into town with Jenny to pick up supplies. Trudy followed with the wagon to carry everything home. Pulling up in front of the general store they saw a crowd of townspeople at the steps of the jail house. Sand and Rocky stood in the door trying to calm everyone down.
"Quiet! Quiet down!", the tall Marshall was trying to get them to listen, but the crowd was too riled up to care.
Jenny pulled her pistol out, fired it once, then returned it to her holster. Rocky smiled up at her, while Sand just shook his head. It got everyone's attention though.
"You wanna continue with what you were saying Sand?", the former gun hand leaned forward onto her saddle horn to watch.
"All right: I know you all want me to put a stop to these mysterious fires, and I will, but right now I'm as in the dark as you are. Now Rocky and I will be investigating further, so if any one has anything of interest involving this case, let us know. As for the rest of you: stay off my back until I have something for you to yell about!"
After that the crowd dispersed, leaving the Express Riders and Trudy alone in front of the jail house. Trudy climbed up the steps to pat Sand on the shoulder. The somewhat surly Marshal grumbled then sat down on the bench that was placed by the door.
