The Lone Ranger Cavendish's Revenge

Part One - Injuries and Insults

"Well I'll be damned..." wished a man as he opened his eyes to see a woodslat ceiling. Last he remembered there was a train with a horrified Cavalry man screeching towards him and he'd jumped at the last second from the cart in the track. Wood had hit the back of his head with a thud and everything had gone black. "God damn!" He yelled trying to sit up as a white hot pain tore through his arm. He fell back with a growl then focused his metallic eyes on the ceiling.

"Butch?" Asked a man running in. He came over to the bed looking at the bloody wreck before him. Butch's hair was a matted mess of dry blood and dirt and his right sleeve was torn open.

"What the hell happened to me Skinny?" He growled trying again to sit up. Once more he fell back yelling profanities and blasphemy. Blood spurted from his nose as he coughed.

"Don't push it Butch! You about lucky to be alive!"

"I said what happened?" He grabbed Skinny with his good hand pulling him close to his rasping breath - so close in fact he could smell the blood trickling down Butch's face and stale alcohol on his breath.

"I... I... you jumped!"

"I know I damn well jumped!" He snapped going to grab his gun and pulling his arm, "Where's my gun? Start talkin'!" He yelled. Skinny was terrified.

"The lady took it, she took it."

"The Ranger's girl?"

"Nah Butch! Anabelle! She brought you here, she saved ya." He squirmed as his master let go and pushed him away sharply. He wiped his face with his cuff roughly.

"She friends with that law man?"

"She's not the sort to like the death penalty. She ain't gonna hand you over."

"Says who? I should shoot her first!"

"You were out for two days. She didn't shop us in then."

"Then I'll thank her for her hospitality then kill her." He snarled with a malicious sparkle in his eye. "Don't just stand there, help me up Skinny."

"Miss Anabelle says-"

"Shut your mouth. What's a woman gonna do? Do I have to tell you twice?" At this Skinny grabbed his good arm and threw it over his shoulder helping up the long haired tyrant. They both staggered with Cavendish being much taller and of stronger muscles. After a few steps he tore his arm away and started to step for himself with a limp.

"Where are you goin'?"

"T' find my gun." He growled. Blood poured from his face and he fell on his knees letting out a noise like a cougar's rawr. Skinny was thrown back when he tried to help but again it was too much and the bleak darkness took Butch once more.

* - * - $ - * - *

Meanwhile in a pile of rock somewhere to the South a native American named Tonto stands with his face to the nose of a beautiful, white horse. The horse appears not to care and chews on a remaining piece of fruit. The indian does not look away until he hears a voice to his side.

"Tonto do you really think that this is going to help?" Asked an exasperated man to his side in a black mask and a white Stetson.

"Spirit horse knows all." He replied shortly.

"Right... well does he know just how much you're making me angry right now?"

"Horse knows."

"We need to get on, we need shelter before the sun sets. I don't know about you but I don't fancy sleeping in a cave."