Showdown at Busted Flush

The tall man looked out of the window, showing little sign of interest in the desert scenery that flowed across his line of sight. The window of the train car was open, allowing a hot breeze to fan his face. The creak and sway of the wooden car, and the click of its wheels on the track beneath it, produced a monotonous, almost hypnotic rhythm. His mind wandered back over the last few weeks and the events that had led him to travel west.

The man had been in El Paso when he received the letter. He was a member of a Texas Ranger company that was stationed just east of the city at Tornillo. One of his duties was to act as liason between the Rangers and the El Paso municipal authorities. He had gone in on a routine visit. His visits into town had become as much a pleasure as a duty, as he and the sheriff had become good friends.

When his walked into the office, the sheriff, a weathered, gray-haired law enforcement veteran with a reputation of shooting first and asking questions later, stood up with a smile. He reached into a pile of papers and wanted posters, held in place by a nameplate that read 'Clint MeDonald, Sheriff,' and handed over a piece of unopened mail. It was addressed, "Buck Cimarron, care of Sheriff's Office, El Paso, Texas."

"Here ya go, Buck," the sheriff said, handing over the envelope. "This came for you a couple of days ago."

Cimarron took the envelope, tore off the end, slipped a letter out and examined it closely. After a minute or two he looked up at the sheriff and said, "It's from the mayor of Busted Flush, New Mexico. He wants to talk to me about taking the marshall's job. The position apparently became vacant unexpectedly. How in the world did he learn about me and what makes him think that I can do the job?"

McDonald smiled again and said, "The mayor sent inquiries to a number of law enforcement offices in the area. I responded. I told him that you had an exemplary record as an officer in the Confederate Army and subsequently as a Texas Ranger. I also said that you were one of the quickest men with a gun I'd ever seen."

After an exchange of telegrams, Buck Cimarron and the mayor of Busted Flush, Joe Wilson, had met in El Paso, liked each other and sealed a deal. Now Buck was on his way to his new job at a small town perched on the rim of Ocotillo Canyon. He didn't see the town's reputation for being wild as a deterrant. He had successfully faced down bandidos and Indians, so didn't feel that he would run up against anything he couldn't handle.

Buck snapped out of his daydream as the train slowed to pull off on a sidetrack to take on water. "A good time," he thought, "to stand up and strech my legs." He started to rise. All at once, an odd look came over his face. He didn't move. He appeared to strain, muscles flexing and face reddening, but still he remained seated. A sound slipped from his lips. "Argh!" he grunted.

As he struggled to get up Cimarron saw a young woman looking at him with an odd expression on her face. She was tall and fair with startlingly blue eyes and full lips. Their eyes met. She rose from her seat an approached. When she reached Cimarron, she asked,"Is something wrong? You seem to be struggling, somehow. Is there something I can do?" She didn't add that part of her interest was in the man himself. Tall, rugged, purposful. "My name," she added, is Desdemona Dillard."

"I seem to be stuck," Cimarron replied.

"I see the problem," Desdemona responded alertly. "The rowels of your spurs seem to have become jammed under the front edge of your seat. I'll find the conductor and he'll have you out of your predicament in no time." She leapt to her feet and went in search of help.

As he waited, Cimarron decided to have a smoke. He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a packet of cigarette papers and a pouch of tobacco. He sprinkled tobacco on the paper. Before he could roll the cigarette a gust of hot wind blew in through the window and scattered the tobacco. "Rats!" he said. He reached back into his pocket and withdrew the tobacco again. Again he sprinkled tobacco on the paper and again the breeze blew it off the paper. "Damn it!" Cimarron gritted. Once again, he pulled out the tobacco and spread it on the paper. He glanced at the window and licked the edge of the paper. But before he could roll the cigarette the wind again scattered the tobacco. "Holy Mother of God, all the saints and anybody else important!" he bellowed. In the explosion of frustration, his feet burst out from under the seat and he pitched backward, hitting his head on the wooden seatback. "Dirty rotten rasafritz rabbig grunder moadum frg!" he roared just as Desdemona returned with the conductor in tow.

"Oh, good. You've freed your feet," Desdemona said.
[Maddog]
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The train lurched forward unexpectedly. The conductor checked his pocketwatch and exclaimed, "What in tarnation is going on here? We can't possibly have enough water yet." Suddenly, the train picked up speed as the air filled with the sound of gunshots and the thunderous galloping of hooves.

As Buck, Desdemona and the conductor tried to get their bearings, two men astride amazingly tame wild mustangs rode alongside the train. Their faces were covered by bandanas made from the cloth of the poor unsuspecting saps that dared to refuse their demands earlier that week. Initially, the bandidos intended to rob the train passengers of all their worldly goods, or at least the trinkets they brought with them. Just then they caught sight of the fair and lovely Desdemona. With a quick look passing between them the bandidos changed their plan. Instead of the worldly goods they were supposed to get, they decided they would take the woman, a much finer trinket. In order to determine which bandido would make the death defying leap from saddle to train first, the two men played a risky but quick game of rock, paper, scissors.

Frito, bandido numero uno, lost to his brother, Lays, and had to board the train first. Sadly, Frito lacked depth perception and misjudged the distance between the train and his horse and after jumping fell to the hard ground and rolled alongside the train. While Frito survived the fall, unfortunately he was trampled to death by the hooves of Lays' amazingly tame wild mustang. Frito's last thought was "Oh, horse manure, I missed!"

Dorito, the third bandido brother, who had managed to sneak aboard the train during the water stop, watched the untimely demise of his twin brother, Frito. Dorito simply shook his head. Actually, he was surprised that Frito had survived in the bandido trade as long as he had especially after the tomahawk-to-the-head incident near the Rio Grande. Dorito paused a moment to mourn the passing of his twin and then went from train car to train car gathering valuables at gunpoint. When he reached the car containing the conductor, the unstuck Buck and Desdemona, Dorito stopped and locked eyes with Desdemona. He gave a little gasp and blinked repeatedly as if he had seen a ghost.
[Susan, Margaret and Caroline]
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"Aren't you Carmen Santiago from Las Nalgas, Mexico?" Dorito asked in Spanish.

Desdemona's eyes became as hard as diamonds and she fixed the bandido with a level stare. In an even tone she replied, "You... have... never... seen... me... before." Dorito gave her a dubious look and opened his mouth as if to speak. The distraction, however, had given Cimarron just enough time to step in. Before the bandit could utter a sound, he realized that, as if by magic, the muzzle of Cimarron's .44 was pressed up under his chin. He let his own pistol drop to the floor of the coach.

Turning to the conductor, Buck said, "Fetch some rope and tie this scum up. You can toss him into the freight car and turn him over to the sheriff when we get to our next stop. It looks as if one of his two amigos was turned into coyote kibbles under the wheels of the train and the other one vamoosed. The excitement's over. You might want to reunite the passengers with their personal effects." The conductor, stunned by the speed with which the former ranger had thwarted the robbery, sprang into action. In just a few moments he returned with a length of rope, trussed up the outlaw and dragged him off to the back of the train.

Cimarron looked at Desdemona and said, "Funny that the train robber thought he'd met you before. Where do you suppose your paths might have crossed? Have you ever been to Las Nalgas?"

"Of course not," Desdemona replied. "I've heard of it, though. I understand that it's a real hell hole, the worst of the worst of the towns along the border." Although when she spoke her voice had the ring of honesty, she averted her eyes. There was something about her manner that lead the ex-ranger to wonder if she were hiding some secret. With her blue eyes and fair hair she didn't look like someone whose name could be Carmen Santiago. On the other hand, she had clearly understood the bandit when he spoke to her in Spanish. His interest piqued, he decided to try to find out who Desdemona Dillard was and what her secret could be.

"Won't you join me?" he gestured to the empty seat opposite him. "The rest of the journey will be much more pleasant with someone to talk with."

Desdemona rewarded him with a pretty smile and answered, "Of course. You're right, it will be nicer to have a friend to chat with." She slipped into the seat facing Cimarron.
[Maddog]
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Desdemona had heard of Buck Cimmaron and knew he was going to be the new sheriff of Busted Flush. "I'm going to have to stay on my toes with this one," she thought. "A sweet smile and the batting of eyelashes isn't going to fool this man. Darned Dorito...I don't know how he recognized me. I thought I left that all behind in Las Naigas." It wasn't a pretty story but she had done what she had to do. It was self-preservation. Of course, women didn't have the same rights as men so she would surely hang if she were caught. She faintly heard Buck speaking to her.

"So tell me more about yourself since we have nothing but time," Buck said. "What is a pretty lady like yourself doing traveling all alone across this rugged land?"

Oh how she hated those words...pretty lady. It's what started that business all those years ago in Las Naigas.
[Margaret]
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If Buck had known to do so, he could have learned quite a bit from his friend, Clint McDonald, the sheriff of El Paso. As a Texas ranger, Buck's job had been to deal with marauding Indians and gangs of bandidos who crossed the border to rustle cattle and pillage isolated ranches. The only time he and the other rangers became involved in law enforcement was when asked to do so by some municipal authority that had a need for the additional manpower or the rangers' aggressive brand of problem solving. It was the sheriff's job, however, to collect and maintain as much information as possible about any and all lawbreakers who might wander into his jurisdiction. Carmen Santiago was one of the names on his list.

A review of the sheriff's file would have revealed that Carmen Santiago's antecedents were European. Her parents emigrated to Mexico from Spain to become successful ranchers. In the upheaval of the French invasion of Mexico and the resulting turmoil her family lost all its possessions. Her father was killed and her mother died not long thereafter, and Carmen found herself alone in a country beset with political unrest, warring internal factions, and bandits. It was a time when it wasn't safe to travel between towns, when one could not always tell between a campesino and a cutthroat. Carmen somehow survived and found her way north. The record showed that her only arrest was in Las Nalgas. Because she was young, fair and quite pretty, she easily found a job at Madame Sonia's Pleasure Parlor and Party Boutique. There, she was caught stealing money from the pockets of customers who were inattentive to the whereabouts of their pants. Her next stop was at Queen Anne's Boudoir. One night a new client who had heard of her light skin and blond hair came in asking for la rubia. It was a man whom she hated with a burning passion. It was an evil criminal known as El Canalla, and it was he, along with his band of thugs, who had killed her father. He had not seen her clearly at the time of the murder, so didn't recognize her when he encountered her in Las Nalgas. She plied him with whiskey and when he was drunk she slipped a long kitchen knife between his ribs into his heart. El Canalla was a powerful man, and she knew that ruthless men on both sides of the law would be looking for her soon.

Carmen had reached Pecos where she changed her name to Desdemona Dillard. The name, along with her fair hair and blue eyes, allowed her to pass as a North American. Not long thereafter she decided to move on to Busted Flush where the law, such as it was, would have little interest in her.
[Maddog]
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As Desdemona spun a fictitious tale of her background and her reason being on the train, it occurred to Buck that the train had stopped. Nothing was moving. Although he didn't have a deadline he wasn't the kind of person who could remain idle for long. A train delay wasn't something he was inclined to put up with. He excused himself and went in search of the conductor.

"Why have we stopped? What's the delay?" he asked.

"There's been a little bit of a mechanical problem," the conductor replied, "but we'll have it fixed and be on our way in a little while. I think we can make up the time and get into Flat Rock just about on time." It was at Flat Rock that Cimarron was going to disembark from the train, unload his horse and, after an overnight stay, ride the additional thirty miles to Busted Flush.

No sooner had he turned to return to his coach and his conversation with his pretty companion than the train began to move. "Good," he thought. "We're underway again."

The next several hours went quickly. The train began to slow and soon they were in Flat Rock. As they stood on the station platform and waited for a station attendant to collect Desdemona's luggage, Cimarron said goodbye to his traveling companion. "Nice to have had such a charming fellow passenger to talk to during our journey," he said with a certain Southern formality. "I hope I'll bump into you again sometime."

She replied with a smile. She didn't tell him that her own plan also was to travel on to Busted Flush. She glanced at her granite-jawed acquaintance and thought, "There goes trouble on the hoof. Sooner or later we'll cross paths again but until then I plan to do everything I can to make it later." She watched as he mounted his horse and headed out of town to find a place to pitch camp. By the end of the next day he would arrive in Busted Flush and within a week's time she would be there, too. She had momentary second thoughts about going through with her plans but shook them off. She clenched her teeth. If she had to, she would kill this man and move on. But until it came to a crisis there was to be no wavering. She clenched her teeth and turned toward the town's only hotel.
[TA]
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Desdemona walked slowly toward the hotel, scanning her surroundings. She spied several cowboys loitering outside the saloon adjacent to the hotel. The men shot admiring looks in her direction. They couldn't help noticing her fine features, fair hair and startlingly blue eyes or the way the bodice of her dress fit snugly and accentuated the swell of her bosom. They could only imagine what treasures lay below the layers of her swishing skirt. It wasn't every day that a woman that attractive wandered into Flat Rock. However, her look stopped them from approaching her. Something in her eyes told them that she was not looking for a little cowboy love.

Desdemona entered the hotel and approached the front desk. "I need a room for a couple of days," she said in a cool voice. The "concierge" was happy to help. He turned and took a key from the board holding the hotel keys. "Room 5. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

After a moment of contemplation, Desdemona responded, "Yes. I am looking for someone. I was told that a man named Walker, a former Texas ranger gone rogue, lives here. Where can I find him?"

The "concierge" looked at her oddly and then lowered his voice and said, "He often hangs out at the saloon next door. You'll recognize him by his black hat and thick mustache. He likes tequila and beautiful women so beware."

Desdamona winked conspiratorially and said, "Maybe he's the one who needs to beware." She thanked the man at the desk, took the key and headed toward her room to organize her thoughts and to plan her encounter with Walker.

As she went to her room, however, she found that her thoughts were complicated by a granite-jawed good guy named Buck Cimarron.
[Caroline]
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As she sat on her bed she thought of the story she told Buck on the train about her past. She realized she needed to stay away from him so she didn't have to continue to lie to him although she certainly would if it meant self-preservation.

Her thoughts wandered..."So, why are you on this train, Desdemona?" Buck had asked. "A broken heart," she said. "I thought I had found the man of my dreams in Hope, New Mexico but it turns out not only was he a gambler with money but a gambler with my heart. So, I decided to turn my back on love and seek a new adventure." She recalled the electricity between them in that train car and realized if she didn't stay far away, an affair was going to bite one of them in las nalgas! Desdemona quickly collected herself and started to make a plan.

Meanwhile, Buck headed to the saloon for a cool drink before bedding down for the night. When he walked in, he heard the patrons talking about the Lone Ranger and how once again he managed to come to the rescue of some poor unwitting souls that were cornered by evil men. Buck felt a strange connection to this ranger he had never met. "Maybe we'll cross paths one day," he thought.

Had Buck known more about his parents and the situation surrounding his birth, he would have understood the connection to the mysterious ranger. His mother had never told him that he had been adopted or that he had an identical twin brother. When Buck and his twin were born, they had been separated at birth. Buck grew up to be an only child while his brother John, was adopted by the Reid family. After John's half-brother Dan was killed in the ambush by the Cavendish gang, John became the Lone Ranger, fighting for truth, justice and the Amercian way.

Buck slugged back the rest of his drink and went in search of a place to bed down for the night. He was no girly man and certainly didn't need any fluffy hotel pillows for his head. Daybreak would come soon and he was eager to get to Busted Flush.
[Margaret]
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The following morning, Cimarron poured the last of his coffee onto his campfire's embers, stowed the pot away and mounted his horse. He leaned down to check a stirrup, and as he did so he sensed a sudden rush of air and heard something hit a tree with the sound of a loud slap only a foot or two away. Not quite simultaneously he heard the report of a rifle some distance to his right. Had he not leaned down at the right moment the bullet would have struck him.

Long ago Buck had learned that the only way to keep a snake from striking a second time was to kill it. Instead of moving away from the danger, he charged toward the source of the gunshot. Keeping as much cover between himself and the place where he reckoned the shooter to be he moved up the ridge overlooking his campsite. Soon he had found the place where the bushwhacker had taken his shot. Although there was no-one in sight it wasn't long before Buck was able to pick up the trail. It led toward Busted Flush. In all probability, he surmised, the shooter knew where Buck was headed and would ride the same direction until the opportunity for another shot presented itself. He doubted that the would-be assassin would expect to find his role reversed from predator to prey.

The confrontation came about an hour later. Following the rifleman's trail Cimarron came upon him just as he was preparing to set up another ambush. "Drop the rifle, put your hands up and turn around!" he snapped. When the man turned, Cimarron recognized the black hat and heavy mustache. "Remember me, Walker?" he asked. "I wondered what had happened to you after we booted you out of the Rangers. I'm surprised someone hasn't killed your sorry butt by now."

Walker glowered at Buck and said, "You wouldn't talk like that if you weren't up on that horse with a gun in your hand." He made a strange, sweeping motion with his right arm.

"Jeez!" Buck said. "That martial arts stuff gets a little old. Do you think a grizzly bear cares if you know that stuff? Naw, you're just another meal. Well, guess what. I'm a grizzly bear. Now tell me who sent you before I start shooting off various body parts."

Although it took some persuasion, Walker, minus an ear, finally confessed that he had been paid one hundred dollars by a young woman he had met the night before in a saloon in Flat Rock. With the muzzle of Cimarron's pistol in his mouth, Walker also mumbled that she had said that her name was Carmen. "I'd a shot you for free, though," he went on. "As much as I hate your guts."

"Carmen?" thought Buck. He recalled the bandit's question to Desdemona on the train. "Aren't you Carmen Santiago from Las Nalgas?" His mind raced. Was she, indeed, Carmen Santiago? If so, was she or someone else trying to prevent him from reaching Busted Flush? If not, who was the Carmen who wanted him dead? He must represent a threat to someone. Enough of a threat to cause them to hire a killer.

"Well," Buck thought, "I'll damn well find out." HIs approach, which had always served him well in the past, was when in doubt, attack.
[Maddog]
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Buck reached down into the back of his pants and felt the raised area where the brand was on his right buttock. He rubbed the area gingerly. It was an old, old scar, but he still felt a stab of pain now and then.

Gathering his thoughts, Buck strategized as he loaded one of his special bullets into the cylinder of his revolver. One was all he'd need. Those bullets had never failed him.
[Susan]
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Buck holstered his gun and then turned to Walker. Walker had been tied to a cactus and was whining about the sharp needles that were puncturing his delicate skin. Buck sighed and shook his head. To think that this man had once been a Texas Ranger. He looked at the former ranger and said, "You should have killed me when you had the chance. If you are lucky, you will find a way to escape. If not, you will wish I shot you as you listen to the rattlesnakes approach and see the vultures circle overhead." With that Buck turned on his heel and walked back to his waiting horse. Back in the saddle, Buck gave his horse a swift kick and turned his faithful steed in the direction of Busted Flush.

As he listened to the sound of his horse's galloping hooves, Buck thought back over the events of the past several days. To date he had derailed a train robbery, met a beautiful woman with a mysterious past, heard details of the revered Lone Ranger's latest good deed and foiled an attempt on his life by the infamous former Texas ranger, Walker. He was told that Busted Flush had a reputation for being wild. He couldn't wait to see what waited for him there. Little did he know that upon his arrival things would get even more interesting.
[Caroline]
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Busted Flush owed its existence to the silver mines that were located nearby, and to its location on the rim of Ocatillo Canyon. The canyon presented a thirty mile long barrier to anyone who wanted to travel to the north. The only alternative to the long trek around the end was the steep trail that began at Busted Flush, led down to the canyon floor and up the opposite side, thus cutting miles off of the journey. It was also a haven for lawless men who used the twists and turns of the canyon to elude their pursuers.

Cimarron took in the town at a glance. It was composed of three parallel streets lined with adobe structures. There was a assayer's office, the sheriff's office and small jail, a general store, two saloons, a bank, and a boarding house. He rode slowly down the main street and stopped at the first saloon. He could wet his whistle and perhaps get a feel for the place from the proprietor. In his experience, bartenders usually knew more about the citizenry than the townspeople themselves. Then he'd look up the mayor, get sworn in, and leave his saddlebags at the sheriff's office.

Cimarron tied his horse to the hitching rail and strode into the bar. It was dim, and smelled of stale beer and whiskey. There were a few crude tables and a couple of spittoons at the ends of the long bar. The floor creaked as he crossed the room. The bartender was a large, overweight, middle-aged man. He was in need of a shave and had a limp cigarette in the corner of his mouth. Dark hair was visible around his collar and more protruded from the cuffs of his stained shirt. He turned his red-rimmed eyes toward his new customer.

Buck slammed his fist on the bar. Fixing the barkeeper with a cold stare he growled, "Gimme a skinny hazelnut latte!"

"Sprinkles?" responded the man behind the bar.

Cimarron glared. "My name ain't Sprinkles!" he snapped. "Just bring me my latte."
[Maddog]
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Just as the bartender set Buck's latte on the bar, the doors to the saloon swung open and a long shadow crossed the floor. Buck heard the clang of metal spurs on the hardwood floor. The sound grew louder and Buck saw a familiar face in the mirror above the bar.

Dorito swaggered in and as he pointed his six shooter at Buck he said, "Where is Carmen?" Dorito and his brothers Frito, now deceased, and Lays were sons of El Canalla's family and they were searching for Carmen to avenge their father's death.

"Apparently the conductor doesn't know much about tying knots," said Buck calmly, biding his time. He wondered where Desdemona had gone and hoped she found her way past Busted Flush and onward to the adventure she sought.

"That woman killed my father and she will pay!" bellowed Dorito. After that outburst Dorito sat down a little unsteadily on a stool next to Buck, reeking of whiskey and still brandishing his gun.

Buck was confused although his granite-jawed face revealed no emotion. Walker said Carmen/Desdemona had paid him to shoot Buck. What was going on here? Buck remained seated with his latte cooling before him and offered a latte to Dorito to try to assuage his anger. "Only if I can have mine with extra sprinkles and a heavy dose of whiskey," said Dorito.
[Margaret]
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Buying time, Buck looked at Dorito and commented, "This is some saloon, isn't it? It's the first time I've been at a bar that had barstools. What a clever invention! In all the other joints I've been in, and I've been in a lot, all through the West, the customers have to stand at the bar. And look here! The seats are covered with horse hide and have these cute little brass nails! Who'd a thought? I'll have to ask the bartender where they came from. This is really clever!" He paused for a moment and then added, "Of course, it's a little harder to react to trouble if you're sitting."

It was clear to Cimarron that Dorito had ingested a lot of Irish courage. He couldn't even belch. When he tried, all that he achieved was a kind of liquid gurgle. Buck knew that Dorito could not remain in a vertical position for much longer, so if he was to get any information from the drunken outlaw it had to be now. Using his index finger he gently pushed the muzzle of the bandit's pistol to one side. "Tell me, is that young woman from the train actually Carmen Santiago?" Buck asked. "And what is this about her killing your father?"

In a mixture of slurred English and Spanish, Dorito mumbled the story of Carmen's revenge and reiterated his intention to exact retribution. "Well," thought Buck, "at least I know her secret. She's wanted for a hanging offense and sees me as a threat. She's desperate. But I wonder if she knows that I have no jurisdiction over a murder that occurred in Las Nalgas? That town's in Mexico. I'm sure the Mexican authorities want her and have publicized that fact, and perhaps if she were to be arrested for some crime in this country the law might turn her over. But I doubt it. There is no good will between the countries. The U.S.- Mexico war has just ended and emotions are even more strained than they were before the war. There is no extradition treaty."

Cimarron had just finished his speculation when Dorito slipped off his barstool and slumped to the floor. Buck was ready to stand even had the outlaw not passed out. The thick scar on his butt was annoying. It felt as if he had a rock in his hip pocket. He reached down and grasped the unconscious man by the collar and dragged him across the floor and out of the saloon door. Lifting the rope from the horn of his saddle, Cimarron tied one end around the bandit's ankles, looped the other end around his saddle horn, mounted his horse and dragged Dorito down the street to the jail where he turned him over to a surprised deputy.

On his way to the mayor's office to be sworn in and to pick up his badge, Buck decided that the next order of business was to find Carmen Santiago and learn what she was up to. If her actions had been simply self preservation, he had to let her know that she was in no jeopardy from the law. If she had a darker agenda he needed to learn that, too. He might be able to prevent a crime.
[Maddog]
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Not immune to grandiose thoughts of heroism and love, Buck pictured himself serving and protecting this little town and winning the love of the woman, a woman without a dark side, that is. The love of a good woman with a bodacious body and full lips... Buck did a little head slap. "Wake up, man, you have serious work to do," he said to himself.

Buck finally arrived at the mayor's office. As he walked through the door the mayor stood up, hand extended. He greeted Buck heartily and they chatted momentarily about Buck's trip from El Paso. Buck mentioned the botched train robbery, his encounter with Carmen/Desdemona, his run-in with Walker and his stop by the jail. The mayor's eyes widened. "This is definitely the man for the job," he thought to himself. Without any further delay, the mayor swore Buck in and presented him with his badge.

Anxious to get settled Buck turned and walked back out to the street. He intended to leave his saddlebags at the sheriff's office and then check out the boarding house. He had been told that a room had been set aside for him upon his arrival. Buck hadn't gotten far when unexpectedly he saw her, a vision of loveliness and perhaps evil, in the window of a passing stagecoach.

As tired as he was from his journey, Buck decided he had to know who this Carmen/Desdemona was and what her intentions were. He watched the stagecoach stop at the boarding house and saw only one passenger exit, the mysterious woman. Buck approached with caution, his elbow cocked so that he could reach his gun quickly if necessary.

"Desdemona...or is it Carmen," Buck said casually. Startled, the woman whirled around and came face to face with Buck. "It's a bit dusty out here. Why don't we go over to the saloon and have a beer or a latte. They have sprinkles," he added with a smile. Sighing inward, now unsure of her future, Desdemona fluttered her eyelashes, put her shoulders back to accentuate her curves and said, "Why, handsome, I would love to!" She had used her feminine wiles in the past to help her in tight situations, she would again if necessary.

Once seated on the fashionable barstools, drinks in hand, Buck wasted no time with niceties. "So...why were you trying to have me killed? What is going on and why are you here in Busted Flush?"

Desdemona sipped her latte. She decided quickly that feminine wiles weren't going to work with this cowboy. Instead, she went for honesty. Besides, she was tired of running and looking over her shoulder all the time. "Buck," she said truthfully, "I wasn't trying to have you killed. I was trying to scare you away from Busted Flush."

"Why on earth would you want to do that?" Buck asked.

"It's a long story, " began Desdemona. Buck waved for the bartender to refill their drinks and settled into listen. Desdemona recounted her tale. She told of her father's murder and mother's passing, her stint doling out pleasure to many a cowboy, her encounter with her father's murderer and the vengance she exacted for her father's death. She explained that she knew that the penalty for her actions would be death. Her only hope to escape was to become a new person and head north of the border. She had planned to settle in Busted Flush and start a new life. Desdemona concluded her tale by describing her meeting with Walker. "I told him that I wanted him to send a few bullets in your direction. I discovered that there was bad blood between the two of you and figured that he would change your mind about coming here. I should have guessed that you wouldn't scare so easily. At any rate, I was afraid that you would send me back to Las Nalgas to my most certain death. Dorito, the bandido who recognized me, is the son of El Canalla. He wants me dead." Desdemona let out a heavy sigh, relieved to no longer be carrying such a secret.

Desdemona looked at Buck. Buck looked back. "Now what?" asked Desdemona.
[Caroline]
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“Well, a showdown, of course,” said Buck in his most heroic voice. “I will defend your honor!”

“My hero,” cooed Desdemona. She had never cooed in her life, but something about this virile man who seemed unafraid of anything stirred a secret longing in her for true cowboy love.

As Buck stood, a young boy ran into the saloon shouting that Dorito the Bandido had escaped from the jail. “Good grief,” Buck muttered. “I am going to have to get better help. First the conductor can’t tie a knot to save his life and now my own deputies can’t keep a prisoner under lock and key!”

Buck stood and marched resolutely toward the door, knowing that a showdown would be imminent. Afterall, this was the wild, wild West and showdowns are how problems are solved.

Somewhere in a canyon nearby, the lone ranger was rubbing an old scar on his right buttock. He, too, had a brand. Unbeknownst to John Reid and Buck Cimmaron, each had been branded with the same brand, a silver bullet. While in the canyon, he sensed something was about to happen in Busted Flush and that his help would be needed. He leaped onto his mighty steed, Silver, and headed toward the town.

Walker managed to free himself from the cactus which was no small feat. He was covered in needles, missing an ear, and mad as a hornet. Although it was a slow, uncomfortable walk, his anger propelled him toward Busted Flush.

Lays, Dorito’s brother, had followed the train on his amazingly tame wild mustang to Flat Rock and then picked up Carmen’s trail and followed her to Busted Flush. He was still mourning the death of his brother, and eager for revenge against Carmen for the death of his father.

It was high noon as Buck departed the saloon through the swinging doors and stepped out onto the dusty street.
[Margaret]
_____________________

As Buck stepped out of the saloon he was approached by a stranger in a white hat, wearing a black mask. Upon seeing the mask, Buck's natural instinct was to go for his gun. Almost too fast for the eye to see it, his .44 was in his hand, pointing at the stranger's heart.

The stranger held up his right hand in a gesture of peace. "I know you think a man in a mask must be up to something sinister. In my case, you'd be mistaken. I wear it only to protect my identity from the myriad of evil doers, scoundrels, bounders, desperadoes, cutpurses, highwaymen, lowlifes, and murdering scum who would do harm to those I care for. By the way, did you know that the word 'sinister' comes from the Latin word for 'left'?"

"I've heard that," Cimarron responded.

"Well, did you know that the word 'myriad' comes from the ancient Greeks who, although they were pretty good at math and geometry, had trouble with big numbers? They called anything over 10.000 a myriad. Not very precise, was it?"

"A little less conversation, please. Just tell me what I can do for you, stranger," Buck said. "Stranger and stranger," he thought to himself. "This wacko must be an ex-school teacher."

"C'mere," said the man in the mask. "I want to show you something."

They walked back into the saloon and stood in front of the large mirror mounted behind the bar. "What do you see?" asked the masked man. Cimarron shrugged. The stranger whipped off his mask and asked, "Well, what do you see now?"

"Holy baloney!" cried Buck. "I see me... twice! We could be brothers!"

"Hello! We are brothers, Buck. In fact we are twins. If you need more proof than what your eyes have provided, check this out!" Without warning, the stranger dropped his trousers and mooned the marshal of Busted Flush. On his right cheek was a large scar shaped like a bullet. Buck's hand reflexively went to his own backside.

"But how...?" he began.

"Our dirty rotten biological father branded us. At first he only branded one of us so that he could tell us apart. But, drunken lout that he was, he couldn't remember which of us had the brand. So he branded the other as well. He said that all of his livestock had to carry his mark."

"Moo!" said Buck. "What's your name?"

"The name given me by my adopted parents was John Reid. But people far and wide know me by another name."

"Aren't you the guy who used to work in a bank and became the legend known as The Loan Arranger?" Buck asked.

"Har, har. I wish I had a peso for everytime somebody brought that up. I could afford a few more silver bullets. Do you know how expensive those things are? I have a small silver mine of my own, but mining the ore and smelting it is just too labor intensive so I have to purchase them. Besides, I used to have an Indian sidekick who did all of the gruntwork, but I had to fire that worthless piece of flotsom for incompetence and moral turpitude a few years ago. It's really hard to find decent help, especially when you can't pay but a few frijoles a day."

Cimarron pondered John Reid's silver bullets. For the life of him he couldn't see what the purpose was. Silver didn't kill anyone any deader than plain old lead and one sure couldn't afford to fire any extra rounds. He wondered what happened if The Lone Ranger missed his mark and if he'd had his Indian helper chase down any bullets that went astray. That would certainly hamper any quick get-aways. "This guy must be a few cows short of a herd," he told himself. While he was lost in thought, Desdemona, who had gone back to her boarding house room to retrieve her Derringer just before Reid turned up, rushed in. She put the tiny pistol out of sight down the front of her dress. It promptly fell straight through to the floor. She started wringing her hands.

"Buck! Buck!" she cried. "I just saw Walker. He's breathing fire and walking rather awkwardly. He looks as if he has vengeance on his mind. He's coming for you. And I was told that Dorito and Lay are on their way here to do me in for killing their father, slime that he was. What can we do?" She turned to the Lone Ranger and said, "And you, Buck's doppelganger, will you help us in this moment of need?"

"It's what I do," responded the tall man in the white hat and black mask.

No sooner had the Lone Ranger spoken, than.....
[Maddog]
_________________________
Walker, Dorito and Lays pushed through the saloon doors, waving their guns and whooping it up, fire in their eyes and vengenance in their hearts. "This is where it will finally end," each man thought. The three men planned to take out Buck and Desdemona, and the Lone Ranger for good measure as he was standing right there, and then continue to wreak havoc wherever they went. The three men leveled their weapons at Buck, Desdemona and the Lone Ranger and put their fingers on the triggers.

"Hold on there just a moment," piped up the Lone Ranger. "Let's take this outside and handle this in a more respectable way." The three outlaws looked at one another and then back at the man in the white hat. "Why not?" agreed Walker.

Once the group was outside in the street, Buck spoke. "Look, I am the new marshal here. I am willing to let you three clowns leave town with your hides intact if you promise never to return. I am looking to spruce up the image of this little town and you three aren't helping."

Buck's offer was met with a trio of sneers.

The Lone Ranger attempted to sweeten the offer. "Look guys, I happen to have a side business as The Loan Arranger. If you will agree to leave, I would be glad to get you a great mortgage on a sweet little ranch outside of Flat Rock. There is plenty of space and tame wild mustangs that come with the property. In addition there is easy access to the railroad and coach trails. You could continue your marauding and terrorizing elsewhere unbothered by us. If you choose not to take this sweet deal, your only other option is a duel to the death. Deal or no deal?"

The three outlaws looked at one another and then huddled. After a few moments the huddle broke and the Dorito spoke for the group. "No deal!" he said, jumping around maniacally. "We duel!" Unfortunately, Dorito had chips for brains and should have urged the group to take the deal.

Buck just shook his head. "Okay, here's how it will work. We shoot in pairs, we shoot to the death. We play rock, paper, scissors to see who in each group goes first. The first two shooters will stand back to back and walk 20 paces as the bartender (roped into service) counts. Our group will go east. Your group goes west. When you hit 20 paces turn and shoot.

As directed each group played for first shooter. The duel began with the Lone Ranger and Walker. The two men walked to the middle of the street and turned back to back. The bartender began counting. The crowd, that had gathered to watch the action, held its collective
breath as the bartender yelled twenty and the two men turned to shoot. The Lone Ranger's silver bullet had hit it's target. As the dust settled, everyone could see Walker's body lying still in the street. Suddenly, Walker raised his head and grabbed his heart and said in a strangled voice, "I die." And he did. The collective breath was released.

In the interest of keeping the entertainment going, a couple of the townsfolk picked up Walker's legs and dragged his dead body behind the saloon. The bartender shouted, "Next!"

The two groups played again, and this time Buck and Lays faced each other. Buck knew he had only the one bullet, but it was his lucky bullet. The one that never flattened when penetrating the flesh of the outlaws he persued allowing it to be retrieved and used again and again (thanks to those skills he developed as a field medic in the army). The bartender had barely spoken when Buck's lucky bullet hit home. Lays didn't even have a chance to draw his gun. The crowd cheered. Again, the body was dragged away.

Seeing that Dorito was the only outlaw left, Desdemona declared that she wanted to duel with the man whose father killed her own. "You're mine!" she yelled. Dorito, still angry from the loss of his own father at Desdemona's hand quickly agreed. He couldn't wait to put a bullet in her beautiful body and avenge his father's death. "You're on, Carmen. You better kiss your cowboy good-bye!"

Desdemona, realizing that she might not survive, grabbed Buck by the lapels of his jacket, whirled him around, dipped him and planted a big kiss right on his mouth. Buck was shocked and delighted. He hoped that Desdemona was a good shot so that he could get some more of that.

Then the crowd hushed as Desdemona and Dorito stood back to back. The bartender started to count. Desdemona and Dorito began walking away from one another. "...18, 19, 20!" hollered the bartender. Desdemona spun with the grace of a dancer while Dorito turned clumsily while trying to release his gun from the holster. The pistol was tiny but it's aim was true. The bullet hit Dorito in the chest. He looked stunned for a moment, cursed Desdemona and fell face down in the dirt. Again the crowd cheered and the bartender offered a free round of drinks to the Lone Ranger, Buck and Desdemona.

Epilogue:
Buck and Desdemona married and settled in Busted Flush. With the Lone Ranger/Loan Arranger's help, they got a sweet deal on a ranch just outside of town with lots of room for their six children (a result of all the cowboy lovin'). The Lone Ranger, thrilled to have finally connected with his long lost brother, promised to keep in touch. In fact, he and Buck grew so close, that he decided to set up an office in town so that he could arrange loans twice a week, take a break from doing good and thwarting evil, look for a wife and have Sunday dinners with his brother and his family.
[Caroline]