Chapter Twenty Two
Hunter’s Corners wasn’t far from Thimble Creek, but it had a stage line that would travel westward and would eventually connect up with the Leadville Stage line.
They were a dusty crew as they rode into town and their horses were a bit played out. They rode up to the stage line office and without dismounting, checked the stage line schedule as scratched out in chalk on the large black chalkboard posted outside. The next stage to Apache Wells was scheduled for two o’clock that afternoon.
Glancing up at the sun, Cyclone judged it to be about noontime. “Looks like it’ll be a couple of hours before the stage pulls out,” he mused.
“S’pose we could leave the boys here to wait while we get back on the trail to catch up with Kip and Jeremy,” Cyclone added.
“Aw, Cy,” Rap complained. “We ain’t had a decent meal in who knows how long. Besides, the horses need a rest. Couldn’t we just hang around here for a while until the boys leave? I saw a nice little cafe down the street. I bet we could get somethin’ good to eat there.”
“That’s the trouble with you, Rap,” Cyclone said. “You always want to hang around. One of these days you’re going to get your wish and you’ll be hanging around a white oak tree. How’s that gonna grab you?”
“I won’t have to listen to you grousing at me all the time and makin’ me go around starvin’.”
“I didn’t think you needed to eat as long as you had a bottle.”
“That’s just it, Cy. I’m fresh out. I saw a nice little saloon down the street too. I bet I could get me a bottle there.”
“Is there anything else down the street, nice, that you saw?”
“Nope. That’s all.”
“Good. So, if we go to the cafe and the saloon, you’ll be happy? Anything else you want?”
“Yeah. Could you loan me a few dollars so I can buy somethin’?”
Cyclone gritted his teeth and angled his horse back into the street. “C’mon. Cinderella.”
“Huh?” Rap said with bewilderment.
Cyclone was already riding on with the others following. Rap shrugged his shoulders and followed after them.
The Blue Bonnet Cafe was roomy and bright with large windows fronting the street. There were several tables of various sizes; some for two people, some for four and some larger round tables to accommodate larger parties.
For the size group they had, they took up two large round tables. Frankie and the boys and Dub took up one table and the Wildcats took up another. Rap was eager to get to work on a big meal. He straddled his chair bowlegged style, sitting next to Kitty. A big grin was on his face and he rubbed his big hands together with anticipated delight. “Hooo doggies,” he said with glee. “I can hardly wait.”
“Well, it’s a good thing, I ain’t sittin’ next to you,” Cyclone cackled from the other side of the table. “You is down right embarrassin’.”
“Your granddaughter don’t feel that way,” Rap said, licking his chops and eyeing the plump waitress across the room. “I’m likin’ the menu just fine already.”
“How can you, paleface?’ Chief groused. “You can’t read a lick anyhow.”
“I can read today’s special just fine,” Rap said still leering as the waitress swished away swinging her behind to and fro. A roll of fat jiggled above her waist line.
“Who’re you joshin’ Rap?” Cyclone muttered. “You know and we know you’re too old for that stuff.”
“Well, I can pretend can’t I?” Rap sulked. His shoulders sagged and his grin disappeared. He rested his chin in his big hands; elbows on the table.
Kitty gave her grandpa a chastising pout and smiled. Cyclone grinned sheepishly back at her. She was just beginning to read the menu in her hands when something flitted over her shoulder and landed in the center of the table in front of her. It startled her momentarily. She leaned back and stared at the middle of the table.
Lying in the center of the table was a playing card, An ordinary playing card.
It was face up. It was the Jack of Diamonds.
The Return of Wildcat Kitty and the Cyclone Kid Page 29