Lifesaver [Engl.]

31. Solution of a puzzle

Rango woke up in shock. Someone had knocked at the door.
"Rango! Rango! Please open the door. Rango! "
Rango quickly got out of the bed and, still in his underwear, he hurried to the door. No sooner had he opened the door than he looked at Priscilla in amazement. "Oh, so early up, little sister?"
"Rango! Jake left the town."
"What?!" Stunned, Rango leaned against the door frame.
"But why?"
Priscilla shrugged.
"Do you know where he's going?"
Another shrug. "I don't know. No idea. I just saw him crawl away. I don't know where."
Without changing clothes, Rango ran out on the street and stared to the town exit. He no longer understood the world. Was Jake completely insane now? A gang of cold-blooded mongooses lurked outside and he's just creeping into his doom?
A great sense of guilt rose in Rango. Was the argument with him and Jake really so bad that he'd just run off it?
"Did I hear you right?" Mr. Snuggles asked, who was just coming up the path. "He's gone?"
Priscilla nodded slightly. "Yes."
"Hey guys!" Snuggles called, running down the street. "He's gone! He's gone! He's out of town!"
"What did he say?" Miss Oats asked and stared sleepily out the window.
"He's out of the town!" Elgin shouted.
Even Spoons was instantly wide awake at the cry that echoed through the city.
"Thanks God!" He cried.
"One less worry," Ambrose said, throwing his playing cards in the air.
Buford had woken up, too. "I'll buy a round for all."
Immediately they all stormed into the saloon. Only Rango was left alone on the street, staring in disbelief into the distance.
Priscilla looked up at him worriedly and reached for his hand carefully.
"Rango? Everything okay?"
Wordlessly, Rango turned and walked quietly down the street.
At that moment, Beans came towards him. "Rango! I just heard it. I..."
She paused as Rango just walked past her as if she didn't even exist.
"Rango?"
But Rango did not react. With his shoulders slumped, he went to the town hall.
Priscilla and Beans looked after him with concern.

Rango walked quietly and slowly through the hall to the mayor's room, where the door was wide open. He entered the room cautiously. The first thing he noticed was the chaos. Jake must have had a real tantrum. Books and papers were strewn everywhere on the floor. He looked around hastily in all directions, in the hope that Priscilla was wrong. But the room was empty. Absolutely empty.
Like in a trance, Rango leaned against the door frame and stared into nothing.
Had he really offended Jake enough to run off about it? Rango would never have thought that. Was it all his fault? Was Jake just leaving town because of their argument last night?
He listened to the silence. He stayed in this position for a few minutes. Then he slowly pulled away from the door and strode across the room. He stopped in front of the desk, turned and sank to the floor. Then he leaned his back against it and stared at the ceiling. After a while he closed his eyes.
From outside, he heard the quiet cheering from the saloon, where the party was going on. But Rango was anything but in the mood to celebrate. He felt miserable.
Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut yesterday? Why did he offend Jake so much? He didn't want to make him angry, and yet it had happened.
Rango sighed and suppressed crying. He didn't want to cry.
It was Jake's own fault. If he hadn't overreacted so ... Damn it! Why are snakes so sensitive?
Rango couldn't help it. He let out a low wail and held his head with a moan.
"I'm an idiot," he whimpered. "Jake, I'm sorry."
He pressed his forehead against his knees convulsively as if that would help.
But with his self-reproach he couldn't bring him back either.
He was gone. Maybe forever.
Sadly, the chameleon lifted its head and let his gaze wander aimlessly around the room. So much had happened in this room in such a short time. Now everything was as it was before. Just with the feeling that he couldn't help Jake anymore. Why did he run away? With desperate, he buried his face in his hands.
"Jake, where are you?"

Jake didn't think about it. Or maybe he didn't want to think. He had no plan. The only thing he felt was blind anger and revenge. He wasn't being fooled. Nobody should ever dare! Nobody ridiculed the greatest gunslinger.
Completely out of breath, he reached the old farmhouse and stopped some distance away.
When he saw the house, he felt a little queasy, but he didn't want to turn back. This time he bravely wanted to look his fear in the eye.
He crept slowly towards the old house. A shiver went through his body as he slipped past the old fence next to the paddock. Memories came back to his mind. For a brief moment he felt the lashes again, the shadows of the hawks circling over him, the laughter of the mayor ...
Jake shook his head. "It wasn't him! It wasn't him!"
He stopped. Now only a few inches separated him from the terrace of the farmhouse.
He hesitated to enter the human house. For him humans had always been a presence of calamity.
He licked and tasted his surroundings. He couldn't feel anything, but the smell of the mongoose was still fresh. Again a wave of fear came over him.
Not this time! Not this time! Show that you are not afraid.
For a brief moment, Jake felt rather stupid. What should he do against the mongooses? On the other hand, he had to save face at all costs. Especially because of the fact that they'd played a nasty trick on him.
He decided to end it with a quick tour.
He bent his neck into an S-shape, paused for a moment, then he pushed forward and rammed his torso into the door. The door swung open with a loud squeak. Jake didn't hesitate. He made another run and stormed into the room. In the middle he stopped and waved his cannon in all directions.
"Come out! I'll give you hell! Just don't think you can fool me forever. I know exactly what is being played here. You can't scare me anymore!"
He listened. But everything remained silent. Nothing moved.
Jake's breathing quickened. Again and again he turned around in all directions. But everything looked dead. His eyes narrowed. There was someone here. He felt that exactly. But where?
He spun around and turned his head to one of the corners of the room. A slight vibration had drawn his attention. With a tense posture, he stared menacingly into the dark corner of the room, which led into a small, dark adjoining room.
He held his breath when he heard soft squeaking noises. Sounds like from an old bike. He automatically raised his upper body a little higher. He was ready to attack. The squeak became clearer. Something rolled towards him. But very slowly. Too slow.
The killer swallowed his fear. He wanted to run away, but that would be absolutely unthinkable for a gunslinger of the west.
No! He's not who he seems to be.
Jake's heart skipped a beat when a shadow appeared. A very familiar figure. It stopped. Jake didn't dare move either, although he was clearly visible.
For a moment neither dared utter a word. Just the howl of the wind that blew around the broken house was audible.
Jake paused as the figure moved and clasped its hands. He couldn't see his face, but he could feel his gaze.
"I would never have thought that you would dare to come here voluntarily," the figure began and laughed darkly.
Jake snorted softly. "I'm not afraid of you!"
"Oh, really not?" The figure in the wheelchair looked a bit surprised, but at the same time also unimpressed.
"Oh no," Jake growled angrily and crept closer, still holding his cannon ready. "Because I know your secret. I know who you really are."
With these words, Jake grabbed the photo which he had tucked under his revolver belt and tossed it to the stranger on the floor.
The person in the wheelchair leaned forward and looked at the photo. At first everything was quiet. Jake expected a stutter or a plea for mercy. But instead the figure in the wheelchair leaned back and giggled maliciously.
"That old fool," he chuckled in amusement. "He kept the photo. I can't believe it."
Jake didn't know what to make of this reaction. What was the person actually imagining? She was alone. Together with the greatest killer in the west, with the deadliest venom and the most dangerous weapon. What was there to laugh about?
At that moment the figure pulled the wheelchair's lever and rolled forward. Jake backed away a little inadvertently. Although he knew who he was looking at, he got a slight shock when the figure rolled into the sunlight. Then she bent down and picked up the photo.
Jake tried to keep his courage.
The old turtle in front of him in the wheelchair grinned and held up the photo.
"Sharply combined," he praised sarcastically. "Unfortunately, that won't do you much good."
The turtle snapped its fingers.
"Drop your gun!"
Jake spun around, but it was too late to attack. Madog had appeared out of nowhere in the doorway and was pointing his revolver at Jake.
The mongoose grinned. "You see, I can do it differently."
Jake was frozen. He had so hoped to take it up with the mongoose this time alone. Now he had lost his courage and was staring at the revolver.
Madog took a step forward. "Never thought you'd come willingly. But please, that will save me a lot of work."
Jake didn't know why he reacted this way later. Maybe it was just the panic of another torture, or just the instinct to flee. In any case, at that moment he didn't know what he was doing. Without thinking, he made a giant leap forward and jumped over the mongoose outside. The mongoose shot, but missed his target.
As soon as Jake felt the ground beneath him again, he wanted to flee immediately, but ...
His breath caught. The eight other mongooses stood in front of him with their whips in their hands. "Where are you going?" the first one cried.
"The party is just beginning," sneered another one.
Jake didn't know where to go. The mongooses had surrounded him.
"If I were you, I'd better stand still," Madog shouted. "Or it will really be your last act in your life."
He raised his revolver a little higher to make his warning clear. Jake was so angry that he didn't listen to his mind again.
With a cry of rage, he lunged at the leader. The mongoose pulled the trigger out of reflex. The shot grazed Jake's neck, but that couldn't stop the killer. Angrily, he lunged at Madog and wrapped his body around him.
"Nobody can stop me!" Jake yelled at him.
The mongoose screamed angrily. He did not want to be defeated by a snake. He reached into his coat and took out his knife. But Jake reacted quickly and pressed the animal to the ground. Madog fidgeted madly under the weight of the snake, but Jake showed no mercy. Die! Die!
Suddenly something sharp hit Jake in the neck. He spun around, but it was too late. Immediately he felt dizzy. He loosened his grip and let go of Madog. But he didn't get far. After a few meters, his vision blurred before his eyes. He stumbled across the floor like a drunken man. Finally, he lost his strength and collapsed. In vain, he tried to keep his eyes open, but his eyelids were getting heavier. With half-closed eyes, he recognized blurry figures and the voice of Madog. Then he passed out.

Rango was startled. That feeling again. Something was wrong. He felt that. He rubbed his arms restlessly. He shivered, although reptiles couldn't automatically shiver from the cold. No, it was something else. And Rango knew exactly what it was. His instinct. The same feeling as last night. Something had happened to Jake.
Rango jumped up and paced restlessly up and down the room. With wailing, he held his head.
"Jake! Oh no! Please tell me that you are not dead! "
"Mr. Rango?"
Rango turned around with shock.
"Shall we start now?"
First Rango didn't know what to say when he saw the two townspeople who he had met in front of the town hall a few days ago. "How so? What was going on again?"
"Mr. Rango, we should take the mayor's furniture away. Have you already forgotten that?" One of them asked, taking a long sip from his whiskey bottle.
"Yes," his colleague agreed. "We thought we'd move everything down to the basement before the snake might come back again."
"Don't joke about that," the other one warned.
"Sorry."
Rango was still upset inside and waved him away. "All right. But start in the hallway. I have to think."
The townspeople exchanged questioning looks. Then they shrugged. "As you wish."
With these words they turned around and began to take down the things from the wall in the hallway, which all had once belonged to the mayor.
Meanwhile, Rango was pacing up and down the room.
"What shall I do? What shall I do? "
What should he do? Jake was in danger, but where should he look for him? He could be anywhere.
"Even if you are in danger, there is nothing I can do for you this time. If only I knew where you are. "
A faint clank made him jump.
Startled, he ran into the hall.
The movers had just taken the two oil paintings off the wall. One of the frames had hit the golf balls. The white balls rolled aimlessly across the floor. One of them rolled right in front of Rango's feet.
Angrily, he kicked the golf ball away. The golf ball landed directly behind one of the two townspeople who was still holding the picture and almost tripped over it.
"Attention!" the other one shouted. He quickly leaned the oil painting against the wooden bench and caught his friend at the last moment.
"This job is also getting more and more dangerous," his colleague said and leaned the second oil painting with the mayor next to the first picture.
"You said it," the other one agreed. "We'd better collect the balls before anyone else hurts."
With that, they left the paintings and started to collect the golf balls. Rango didn't feel like watching the goings-on any longer. He needed a rest. He walked past the two townspeople. But he stopped in front of the two oil paintings. Subconsciously, his hands clenched into fists.
"It's all your fault!" He shouted, tossing the pictures on the floor.
The two townspeople looked up startled, but returned to their work immediately.
Meanwhile, Rango had his anger under control again. He stared angrily at the overturned oil paintings, of which only the backs of the pictures could be seen.
Suddenly he winced. Something had written on the back of the two pictures. Rango froze. For a while he dared not to breathe. He screwed up his eyes and looked again. In the picture; on which the mayor had depicted with the rifle stood the letters: "Turtle John". And on the other with a bow and arrow he read ...
Rango looked up. Then he put his hand to his forehead. The solution had been under his nose all along.
"Of course! That explains everything."