Read Online Nan Ryan by Written in the Stars - Free Book Online
Authors: Written in the Stars
Ads: Link
strategy was to cuff the creature’s wrists together, loop the linked chain around his neck, mount him astride a big paint pony, and tie his bare feet underneath the horse. The Cherokee Kid, mounted on his big gray gelding, would then lead the paint pony and the nearly-naked savage right down Broadway, allowing every man, woman, and child a good, long look at this savage beast, the Redman of the Rockies.
Shorty stepped up to the creature’s locked cage. The key to the cage had been taken from its secret hiding place in Ancient Eyes’ quarters. Other than the old Ute chieftain, only Shorty knew where it was kept. Key in hand, Shorty unlocked the barred door, opened it, and stepped up inside.
And grunted in shock and pain when the fierce Redman knocked him flat on his back. The cigarette flew from Shorty’s mouth. The chains and steel cuffs fell from his hands. The Redman exploded from the unlocked cage and ran so swiftly he was a hundred yards from the exhibition grounds before anyone could react. Shouts and yells of warning went up from the troupe. Diane, astride her black stallion, turned in the saddle and stood in the stirrups. She drew in a quick breath when she saw the nearly naked Redman sprinting barefoot across the plain, a picture of graceful ferocity.
The Cherokee Kid and a half dozen mounted Rough Riders wheeled their horses and galloped after the fleeing savage. Despite their inequitable advantage, the Redman almost managed to elude them.
Running for his very life, the creature raced with lightning speed toward the foothills to the west, his silver-streaked raven hair streaming out around his noble head. His long bronzed legs were churning with swift, longstrided precision when all of a sudden a bare foot struck a sharp rock or he sprained an ankle. His powerful, fluid gait abruptly changed. Any hope he’d had of getting away disappeared with that one misstep.
The Cherokee Kid spurred his gelding forward and managed to catch up with his prey. Hugging the lunging mount with his knees, the Kid leaned down, snagged a handful of the Redman’s flowing black hair. He yanked hard. The Redman’s body was jerked backward. He stumbled, fell to his knees, struggled up again.
The Rough Riders encircled him. A well-thrown rope fell over the Redman’s bare shoulders and tightened around his chest, trapping his arms at his sides. A couple of riders dismounted, wrestled the Redman to the ground, and tied his hands behind him. The Kid stayed in the saddle. Smiling, he led the recaptured Redman back to the fairgrounds. Applause rose from the troupe as the Kid cantered his mount, purposely making the Redman run and stumble on his injured foot to keep from falling.
The runaway redskin was promptly placed back in his cage and the door securely locked. He would still have a part in the parade—couldn’t disappoint the public—but he’d remain behind bars, locked safely in his cage. The wheeled flatbed supporting his cage would be drawn down Broadway by a quartet of horses.
While the workmen made the necessary adjustments, the Colonel reined his mount over alongside the Kid.
The Kid looked up, shook his blond head, and said, “That was a close one, Colonel. I’m afraid that savage is nothing but trouble.”
“On the contrary, Kid,” the master showman calmly replied, “he’s a godsend. We’ll make his attempted escape a part of the show.”
The Kid frowned. “You mean … no, I don’t think—”
“This is not the East, Kid. The people in Colorado still remember the Meeker Massacre. We’ll set the creature free in the arena. Let him attempt an escape.” The Colonel smiled broadly, blue eyes twinkling, and added, “Then you’ll ride in and recapture him to the sound of deafening applause.”
Beginning to nod, the Kid said, “Imagine the screams and pandemonium when we turn him loose.”
“I can, Kid! Why neither Pawnee Bill nor any other wild west show in the country has an act to
Shorty stepped up to the creature’s locked cage. The key to the cage had been taken from its secret hiding place in Ancient Eyes’ quarters. Other than the old Ute chieftain, only Shorty knew where it was kept. Key in hand, Shorty unlocked the barred door, opened it, and stepped up inside.
And grunted in shock and pain when the fierce Redman knocked him flat on his back. The cigarette flew from Shorty’s mouth. The chains and steel cuffs fell from his hands. The Redman exploded from the unlocked cage and ran so swiftly he was a hundred yards from the exhibition grounds before anyone could react. Shouts and yells of warning went up from the troupe. Diane, astride her black stallion, turned in the saddle and stood in the stirrups. She drew in a quick breath when she saw the nearly naked Redman sprinting barefoot across the plain, a picture of graceful ferocity.
The Cherokee Kid and a half dozen mounted Rough Riders wheeled their horses and galloped after the fleeing savage. Despite their inequitable advantage, the Redman almost managed to elude them.
Running for his very life, the creature raced with lightning speed toward the foothills to the west, his silver-streaked raven hair streaming out around his noble head. His long bronzed legs were churning with swift, longstrided precision when all of a sudden a bare foot struck a sharp rock or he sprained an ankle. His powerful, fluid gait abruptly changed. Any hope he’d had of getting away disappeared with that one misstep.
The Cherokee Kid spurred his gelding forward and managed to catch up with his prey. Hugging the lunging mount with his knees, the Kid leaned down, snagged a handful of the Redman’s flowing black hair. He yanked hard. The Redman’s body was jerked backward. He stumbled, fell to his knees, struggled up again.
The Rough Riders encircled him. A well-thrown rope fell over the Redman’s bare shoulders and tightened around his chest, trapping his arms at his sides. A couple of riders dismounted, wrestled the Redman to the ground, and tied his hands behind him. The Kid stayed in the saddle. Smiling, he led the recaptured Redman back to the fairgrounds. Applause rose from the troupe as the Kid cantered his mount, purposely making the Redman run and stumble on his injured foot to keep from falling.
The runaway redskin was promptly placed back in his cage and the door securely locked. He would still have a part in the parade—couldn’t disappoint the public—but he’d remain behind bars, locked safely in his cage. The wheeled flatbed supporting his cage would be drawn down Broadway by a quartet of horses.
While the workmen made the necessary adjustments, the Colonel reined his mount over alongside the Kid.
The Kid looked up, shook his blond head, and said, “That was a close one, Colonel. I’m afraid that savage is nothing but trouble.”
“On the contrary, Kid,” the master showman calmly replied, “he’s a godsend. We’ll make his attempted escape a part of the show.”
The Kid frowned. “You mean … no, I don’t think—”
“This is not the East, Kid. The people in Colorado still remember the Meeker Massacre. We’ll set the creature free in the arena. Let him attempt an escape.” The Colonel smiled broadly, blue eyes twinkling, and added, “Then you’ll ride in and recapture him to the sound of deafening applause.”
Beginning to nod, the Kid said, “Imagine the screams and pandemonium when we turn him loose.”
“I can, Kid! Why neither Pawnee Bill nor any other wild west show in the country has an act to
Similar Books
