The New Adventures of the Masked Rider by Alexander Terry & Smith Jr Don Everett & Privett Neal

Author:Alexander, Terry & Smith Jr, Don Everett & Privett, Neal
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pro Se Press
Published: 2017-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

THE END.

Roscoe Perkins’ Mule

by Terry Alexander

“Daddy, there’s a spotted mule on the south ridge.” Chad Wister ran into the rough log cabin. “I think its Mister Perkins’.”

“Roscoe Perkins.” The tall man rose from the breakfast table. He took a final sip of coffee and tugged the floppy hat on his head. “Come on. Perkins wouldn’t let that mule run loose. He might be hurt or something.”

“Earl, where are you going?” The back door slammed. A short woman entered the back door. “I need help with the chores around here. I can’t do them all.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Sarah.” He pulled an old rifle from the pegs over the door. “Chad saw a spotted mule outside.”

“Yeah, Mama.” The boy ran to the door. “It’s out on the hogback, I know it belongs to Mister Perkins.”

A frown creased Sarah’s face. “Roscoe Perkins? What’s that old coot doing here? He stays in the back country looking for gold.”

“Maybe the ‘paches got him.” Chad hurried after his father. “We’re gonna try to find him.”

“You two be careful. I don’t want any Apaches to find you.” Sarah licked her lips anxiously.

“Sarah, there ain’t been any Indian trouble around here. I think the old codger fell off that mule and hurt himself.” Earl lingered at the door. “I want you to stay in the house until we get back, just in case.”

The woman bit her lip. “Just hurry up and get back.”

Earl ducked his head as he passed through the low doorway, the rifle hooked in the crook of his arm. He stared at the mule on the hogback. A rope stretched to the ground behind the spotted animal. “Walk easy, Chad,” he whispered. “There may be more here than we’re expecting.”

“What do you think it is, Daddy?” Chad stared in wide-eyed fascination at his father. “Do you think it’s ‘paches?”

“I doubt it’s Indians, but you can’t ever tell. Could be anything. Be careful and keep your eyes open.” Earl scraped at the whisker growth along his leathered jaw.

“Daddy, that mule’s caught on something.” Chad tugged on his father’s sleeve. “Looks like it slipped its pack.”

Earl moved the rifle to a better position. His eyes constantly scanned the scrub growth. The mule tugged against the rope, grunting and snorting with the effort. “Easy there, fella,” Earl spoke softly, trying to calm the animal. “We’re not gonna hurt you. Just take it easy.” He reached out and touched the animal’s shoulder. He felt the muscles ripple under the hide.

A heavy pack had lodged under a mesquite bush, holding the animal fast. “You remember what Perkins called this old bag of bones?” Earl grabbed the rope trailing from the animal’s neck and pushed the brute back.

“Turpentine. He named her Turpentine.” Chad stood back from the mule’s hind feet. The old brute packed a powerful kick. He’d seen Turpentine kick Carl Peterson to the ground once in Phoenix.

“Here, hold this rope.” Earl laid the rifle on the ground. “Now, let me get these pack ropes off you.

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