A Beautiful Western Story

Chapter 2: The Great Chase

"Clean the table, then we can continue the story," the grandpa says stepping out into the cool night.

"Abuelo, can we clean after?" the girl says whining.

"No no no, clean first, the quicker you clean, the more story you'll get," the grandpa says picking up a shovel.

He steps over a fire pit and picks at the burnt wood, turning it to ashes. He then walks over to a pile of firewood and picks up a couple of logs. He makes his way back to the fire pit and dumps the wood in a big pile. He puts down the shovel and pulls out little balls of cotton. He throws them into the pit as well. He goes back to the pile of wood and picks up a big stick. He walks over to a small shed and lifts the lid off a big black disc covered in dried up fat. He sticks one end of the stick into the fat and covers the entire end. He puts everything else how it was and walks back to the pit. At this time the boy and girl come out of the house. The boy wore a thick jacket, the girl was wrapped in a blanket.

"There, it's clean, can you tell us now?" The boy says annoyed.

"Paciencia, niños(patience kids) this takes time," the grandpa says, "since I made you guys clean and you weren't very quick I'll tell more of the story, well maybe" the grandpa adds smiling.

"Okay! So tell us!" the boy says.

"I will, I need to light the fire," the grandpa says reaching into his pocket.

He pulls out a box of matches and lights one. He holds it against the end of the stick. Some of the fat begins to run down the stick, but for the most part, it catches on fire. He waves the match in the air putting it out and drops it in the pit. He then puts the burning end of the stick into the pit and holds it. The wood begins to crackle, the air began to fill up with sparks and smoke. Suddenly, the wood catches fire. Slowly, all of the wood in the pit and the cotton balls begin to burn releasing the smoky smell of firewood into the air. The grandpa takes a seat in his chair and clears his throat. The kids sit up in their seats.

The unnamed bandit continued his journey through the desert hoping to find somewhere to just lay low and blend in for a while. After a week of traveling, he came across a very small town very close to the Nevada border. As he entered the town, there was a sign that read, "Higgstown, population: you can count it on a hand". "Que bueno(that's good)," the bandit thought to himself. He hops off his horse and leads it near a tree. He removes his jacket and neck scarf, unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt, and rolls up his sleeves. He then removes his sombrero brushes back his hair and places it back on his head. He takes his jacket and neck scarf and throws them in a bush. He pulls out his revolvers and inspects them for damage. He pushes the cylinders out each chamber filled. He spins them back in and places both back in their holsters on his waist. He looks around to see if anyone's watching, then pulls some money out of his horse. He stuffs it in his pocket and quickly stuffs the rest away. He hops back on his horse and continues down the path into the town. The first building he sees is a gun store so he decides to stop. He hitches his horse to a post out front and hops off. In front of the store stood a young boy holding up a newspaper.

"Read all about it! 15-year-old boy from Texas kills many in his town! Read all about it!" The boy says waving the paper around.

"Seems these outlaws are getting younger these days" the bandit says to himself, "maybe that Viejo(old, male) Buck left the mark he wanted" he adds shaking his head with a smile. He pats his horse one last time and heads into the store.