

# Volume 2

# PLANET LAND

# "The Adventures of Cub and Nash"

### Janet Beasley

Illustrations by Dar Bagby
MAYCLY

Published by JLB Creatives Publishing

Mt. Dora, Florida 32756, USA

Text copyright © 2013 by Janet Beasley

Illustrations © 2013 by Dar Bagby

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, scanning, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the publisher.

ISBN: 9780463524176

Planet Land, "The Adventures of Cub and Nash" is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events, establishments, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

#

# OTHER PUBLISHED SCRIBBLINGS

# by AUTHOR JANET BEASLEY

FICTION

Hidden Earth Series

Volume 1 Maycly The Trilogy

Part 1: "Two Altered Worlds"

Part 2: "The Battle of Trust and Treachery"
Part 3: "The Queen"

The Chukkons Say, "Ye Need ta Be a-Seein' Maycly"

(illustration book; companion book to Maycly)

More Than Grilled Cheese and Tomato Soup

(cookbook; companion book to Maycly)

TRADE-SPECIFIC MAGAZINES

"Stage Directions"

"Your Church"

"Technologies for Worship"

Articles dealing with theatrical productions from conception to completion, technical theater, and how to survive live productions on half-a-shoestring budget.

NONFICTION

Production P.A.R.T.Y.

Theatrical Fudge

Dreams to Dust (autobiography)

MISCELLANEOUS

Award-winning poetry

Greeting cards

Inspirational photo captions

Plans are for publication of a coffee table book that combines inspirational words and scenic nature photographs.

## DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to my husband, Don, who has been, and always will be, my essence of life.

I wish that the wind may catch our sails and carry us to a new sea where we will float together on the waves of achievement, prosperity, and wellness.

## ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I'd like to thank Legends of America, the cowboys of this nation, the farmers of this land, and my family, all of whom take pride in teaching their kids and grandkids how to distinguish right from wrong.

I'd like to thank the support team of authors who continually encourage and inspire me: Betty Dravis, Jean E. Lane, Mark Miller, Tammie Clark Gibbs, Daniel Carter, Barbara Watkins, Elise Van Cise, De Miller, and Theresa Oliver just to name a few. Without this team of literary geniuses behind me all the way, there would be no Hidden Earth Series.

And most of all I'd like to thank my fans for their shared enthusiasm and continued support.

## FOREWORD

By Janet Cash

I first met author Janet Beasley, and was introduced to Maycly (cly like fly), on a chilly spring day in Lake County, Florida. I was immediately attracted to the beautiful images on her books. We began chatting, and I knew Volume One, Maycly and the rest of the Hidden Earth Series was something I was dying to experience. As a mom and a teacher, I'm always on the lookout for something new and different to capture young minds. What I found was a wonderful story full of rich imagery, fantastical creatures, and engaging characters–a real page turner with a very strong message of right and wrong, forgiveness and redemption, and most importantly, undying faith.

In her latest book, Volume Two, Planet Land (the next installment in the Hidden Earth Series), you'll meet two rambunctious ten-year-old boys named Cub and Nash and take a trip to the Old West. Planet Land is full of magic and wonder. It offers an exciting adventure full of lessons about believing and having faith and, of course, having fun.
"Cares of the past are behind;

Nowhere to go, but I'll find

Just where the trail will wind,

Drifting along with the tumbling

tumbleweeds."

Bob Nolan, songwriter,

"Drifting Along with the Tumbling Tumbleweeds"

1934
NOTE: Throughout the story, you will occasionally see words with an asterisk (*) and a number beside them (e.g. *1). These indicate a "BOOTNOTE" that can be found in a list at the end of the book. The BOOTNOTE explains the meaning of the word/phrase following the asterisk/number.

# PREFACE

Since Iona's glorious coronation ceremony the Mayclysians had been living peacefully. The battles between Good and Evil had been fought on Maycly; Good had prevailed. The Grand Wizard, SUL (Sorcerer of Unequivocal Leadership), had destroyed Evil, along with Earth, but not before rescuing from Earth all those who trusted Him, reuniting their bodies and spirits and welcoming them to Maycly.

Earth, now a blackened, uninhabitable planet, dangled in the outermost darkness, suspended there for all time as a smoldering hollow sphere hidden from SUL's other creations in the heavens. It had met its demise when FAZ (Fwathé Argonin Zelstoy, meaning "fire-breathing destroyer" in SUL's own language)—Evil incarnate—was cast from Maycly and crashed into Earth with a violent slam that drilled him into the planet's fiery core. Earth ignited and began burning with merciless flames from the inside out, destined never to recover, as commanded by SUL.

All Mayclysians were aware that SUL would create a new Earth, as prophesied in The Book of Good and Evil, though SUL had not revealed the specific time; this did not worry the Mayclysians, as they always had and always would trust SUL, no matter what. SUL knew the formation of His new Earth was drawing nigh, but He dreaded what lay ahead for His trusting chukkons, wightlings, Sprites, and etherealians, for there had been unforeseen consequences.

# Chapter 1

## Welcome to the World

## ~ ON MAYCLY ~

Two hundred and seventy twilights after the second battle on Maycly, close family and friends of Iona and Cole (Maycly's queen and king) received invitations requesting their presence in the castle's courtyard in New Tahqrusalom. Iona looked at Cole and asked, "Ready Teddy?" Cole looked deep into her eyes and answered with the expected response, "I was born ready." They had played this quirky little game since their days on Earth. Cole's smile was dreamy; Iona's heart fluttered. He caressed her cheek and kissed it. As always, she felt the warmth of his loving touch shoot through her veins.

Iona and Cole gave each other a wink and a blink and departed from the castle nursery, led by their bichon frisé, Wiskee. He had been a gift from SUL to Iona on Earth at a highly significant point in her life. Wiskee had taken to Iona as if she were his momma and to Cole as if he were his daddy. He was the only talking animal on Maycly, and SUL had appointed him Maycly's prince. He strutted as he led his momma and daddy down the massive hallway.

Sprite sparkles were abundant, and the pleasant aromas of sugar waffles and cotton candy filled the air. Carbreyghal led the flying etherealians. Castle attendants, chukkon and wightling alike, sang joyful songs as they paraded behind Maycly's royalty. The twelve fiery castle sentinels bellowed as Iona, Cole, Wiskee, and their attendants made their way to the grand foyer leading to the courtyard. This was a rare occurrence, as the sentinels normally announced someone's entry, not departure.

SUL entered the courtyard first. The crowd appeared eager to catch their initial glimpse of the one and only wightling, chosen by SUL, to be born on Maycly. They were abuzz with anticipation, but the raising of SUL's hand silenced them. "It is with grand pleasure I present to you their highnesses, the royal family of Maycly." Sprite sparkles exploded in the air as the tiny winged creatures flew before their court tossing illuminated, fragrant lavendaria petals that rained onto the pathway. The orchestra of New Tahqrusalom played majestic scores.

Amidst the excitement Iona was quick to spot her parents, Ann and Leonard, standing next to her Gramma Hilda and Grampa Lawrence. They all blew kisses to Iona. Cole smiled and acknowledged his parents as well with a kingly gesture.

A hush fell when the royal couple and Prince Wiskee reached the magnificent decorated gazebo resting atop a floral platform alive with brilliant colors. Iona unwrapped the bundle she was carrying and kissed the forehead of their newborn son then handed him to Cole.

Wiskee danced in a circle at Iona's feet. "Momma, hold me up so I can see." Iona scooped him up in her arms.

Cole held their son above his head. Iona was tickled by the "oohs" and "ahhs" when the guests saw the babe dressed in tiny, distinguished, regal apparel, complete with a soft fabric crown.

"Yippee!" Wiskee shouted.

Cole waited for the crowd to quiet. "Family and friends, we have waited all our lives for such a moment as this. And who could have guessed it would occur on Maycly? It is with humility, honor, and excitement that Iona and I present to you the first and only wightling ever to be born on Maycly. Our son, Jonji."

SUL interjected, "Jonji, an ancient word meaning 'Gift of Peace and Graciousness'."

The crowd erupted with mighty sounds of joy. Only a few understood how truly special Jonji was to this couple, as on Earth Cole and Iona were never able to have children, so Jonji's birth was the fulfillment of their dreams.

Wiskee, his tail wagging at a rapid pace, shouted, "That's my baby brother! He's a real boy." Those who could hear him had a good laugh. Wiskee's eyes never left Jonji as Cole made a slow, dignified turn showing off their newborn, only one day old. "Don't drop him Daddy. He's just little, and he might break."

"Shhh. Your daddy will do just fine," Iona assured Wiskee with a kiss on the top of his head.

Wiskee finally had a "brother" he could pal around with and do boy-type stuff like playing in puddles, chasing starlight snuggrerbugs, or spending an afternoon skiddering. His special doggie smile was bigger than ever.

After an hour the celebration moved to the Valley of Feasting where all Mayclysians could meet and greet Jonji. The festivities lasted well into the twilight.

"The suns and moons will be exchanging their light soon," Gramma Hilda said. "I'm going to go gather up breakfast for everyone. Come help me Lawrence."

"I'll go too," Leonard said. "I know Ann wants to stay here with her new grandson." He gave Ann an understanding smile, and she silently mouthed the words, "Thank you."

Grampa Lawrence, Leonard, and Gramma Hilda returned from The Bakery with sweet confections, coffee, hot chocolate, and icy cold milk just in time for breakfast.

Several hundred years passed after the celebration of Jonji's arrival. Iona and Cole enjoyed every minute of raising their son on Maycly. Wiskee contributed a big part in helping to raise Jonji too, as the two of them played together every day from the first day Jonji could walk, romping through Creature Peaks, skiddering on the rivers of Gertie's Marsh, and riding icatarases up to the tops of the Skygem Alps where they could hike the snowy trails. Wiskee slept with Jonji every night. The pet bonding light between them made most other pet bonding lights on Maycly look dim. The two were inseparable.

Jonji stopped aging at 17 years. This was normally a chukkon trait, but when Iona asked SUL if her son could always remain at the favorite age she could remember experiencing on Earth, He could not resist her request.

Iona could not have been any more proud in her service as Maycly's queen, and the Mayclysians returned their pride in her and the rest of the royal family with their never ending gift of love. But that which SUL had revealed to Iona at the end of the battle (and sworn her to secrecy) kept hovering in her mind. She felt things were about to change. . .sooner than later.

# Chapter 2

## "She Ain't Kissin' Me!"

## ~ ON PLANET LAND ~

Cub heard the yee-haws and woo-hoos in the distance. Finally, the mouth-watering aromas of food cooking in the big kettles, and corn and onions roasting over the open pit, wafted up and reached his nose. As he crested the hill, Copper Junction came into sight. He pointed, "There it is!" His parents watched their ten-year-old son race down and disappear in the crowd at the buffet set up outside Moffitt's bright red barn. Cub had waited all day to sink his teeth into a huge cob of buttered sweet corn, followed by a sloppy sandwich, some baked beans, a helping of creamy potato salad, and a big piece of one of his aunt's pies. And he would be in hog heaven when he chased it all down with a pint jar filled to the brim with ice-cold sweet tea. It was the night of the highly anticipated once-a-year Copper Junction Function. The summer evening weather was always perfect for the event, and the inhabitants of Planet Land claimed SUL had something to do with that.

Folks sat on straw bales lining the dance floor. From canning jars, adults sipped a special brew that had earned the nickname "The Cowboy Kicker." A local bluegrass-rock band pounded out rhythms of their best foot-stomping music from the makeshift stage in the barn. Party guests strutted their stuff, and dust from the barn floor swirled ankle deep as dancers kicked up their heels. Gents tossed gals so high their flowing pigtails and ponytails nearly touched the party lights strung back and forth between the rafters. When the girls landed back in their honeys' arms they wrapped their legs around their beaus, who then dipped them so low their curls swept the floor. While still in their partners' tight grasp, the ladies were tossed back up kicking their long, slender legs high behind them, showing off their multicolored ruffled petticoats. Other guests clapped and cheered for the fancy steppers, and still more swung arm-in-arm in the barn lofts, some with no visible sense of rhythm.

Lady-folk chased after cowboys and vice versa; it was a common sight, as love was in the air. Several of the couples ended up outside behind a horse-drawn plow or a mound of hay where they most likely snuck a kiss or two.

Cub saw her coming up the ladder at the far end of the loft and blurted out, "You can't catch me!" He slid down the ladder on the other end of the loft and took off on a dead run.

"That's what you think!" Little Sadie was the prettiest nine-year-old girl around; all the young boys agreed. Ladylike, she climbed down the ladder and chased after Cub.

He looked over his shoulder to determine how much of a lead he had on Little Sadie, but he stumbled over a bucket, slowing him down and increasing his anxiety. He had actually started to take a liking to her and had thought long and hard about letting her catch him this year. But he had decided against it; the thought of going through the certain ribbing he would hear from his friends and family after the Function was not something any boy his age wanted to endure. But Little Sadie's blond braids decorated with ribbons, her deep blue eyes, that gorgeous smile, and the bow on the back of her fluffy-skirted dress made her hard to resist.

Cub darted in and out of the overflow crowd gathered around the barn. He fled from the guests and turned the corner, ducking out of sight.

"Hey Cub, wait for us." His friends knew where he was going and caught up in no time.

Cub lifted a loose slat of the barn siding, and he and four other boys slipped into the barn's backside, putting them behind the backstage curtain made of burlap feed sacks. The curtain hid a mishmash of dried cornstalk bundles, old hand plows, moth-eaten horse blankets, and rusty tools. Cub shoved the straw bale off the trap door and pulled the wooden flap open. All of the boys jumped in. Cub was last and made certain he had the string, which was attached to the bale, in his hand so he could pull it back over the trap door once it was closed above them. The boys had rigged another string that dangled from the bale down through the hinged side so they could pull the bale off the trap door when it came time to leave.

When Cub's feet hit the ground he let go the string and headed for the lantern. Even though it was pitch dark, he and his friends knew how many steps it was to the lantern. But Cub was their chosen leader, so the task was his. He reached up and, with ease, grasped the light source. Then he took the exact number of steps to the rock beneath which the matches were tucked all safe and sound. When the lantern light shown low, they found their secret underground clubhouse just the way they had left it a few days before. Each took a seat on his very own log stump with his name self-carved in the side, and Cub placed the lantern on the crate they used for their table. If his parents ever found out he was playing with fire, he knew he would be in a heap of trouble. But to Cub, it was worth the chance of being scolded should the secret place ever be discovered. . .perish the thought.

Little Sadie reached the back of the barn during a lull in the music. "Cub? Ya out here? Cub?" From beneath the barn floor the boys could hear her shrill voice calling into the woods. They looked at each other and did their best to stifle their laughter.

"Little Sadie! You get back here this instant." Her mother took her by the arm. "There could be coyotes or even mountain lions out here that'd eat ya right up. Ya need to stay where someone can see ya at all times, young lady."

"Yes, Mother." Little Sadie hung her head and sniffled.

"Oh, there-there." Her mother knelt and wiped her baby girl's tears with her apron. "No need to get upset. I'm sorry. It's just that sometimes mommies get scared and talk real loud and don't mean to. I love ya very much. If I didn't, I wouldn't-uh come lookin' for ya. OK?" She gave Little Sadie a big hug.

"OK." Little Sadie perked up. She hugged her mother back, and they returned to the hoopla.

The band, muffled above Cub and the other boys, began to play a hoedown. The boys laughed out loud—all but Cub. "She almost gotcha this year." Cub's best friend, Nash, was already starting the taunting about being kissed by a girl.

Dust from the dancers' feet, the boys found out, was not just above the floor. Nash got to gagging and coughing as he laughed at Cub. The other boys turned their attention to Nash and started laughing at his misfortune. Cub joined in the giggles. . .and all the hacking!

"I could-uh let her catch me if'n I'd wanted, but I didn't wanna. She ain't kissin' me!" Cub wrinkled up his face into an expression recognizable as "yucky." His friends laughed harder, probably in disbelief of his statement.

Once they had finished their secret meeting agenda, the boys readied themselves to head back to the Function. Cub picked up the lantern to blow it out and hang it back on its hook. "What's up with this? I can't get the lantern to blow out." Cub blew so hard he was spitting.

Nash and the others came to his aid. All started blowing. . .and spitting. . .harder and harder on the flame, yet it remained. The five boys stared at the lantern.

Cub saw a shadow melt into the darkness. "Guys! Shut up! Somebody's here."

"What?" Nash and the others appeared to be unconvinced. "Nobody's in here. We would-uh heard 'em come through the trap door."

Cub's loud whisper trembled. "I ain't foolin' around. Shut! - Up!" He lifted the lantern for a better view and sheepishly asked, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Little Sadie." Cub jumped at the high-pitched voice behind him and swung around. Nash puckered up, "Kiss me Cubster. Kiss me."

"I can't believe ya'd do that to me. Why don't ya grow up? Follow me and keep me covered." Cub's eyes bugged. "All-uh ya!" He turned back around and headed toward the place where he had seen the shadow, the other boys close behind. Pretty soon Cub stopped and shined the lantern's light from the top of the clubhouse to the bottom. A few crumbles of dried mud trickled down the dirt wall, and the boys all jumped like they had been shot.

"It's probably just all them folks above us that jarred the dirt loose. Ya know, dancin' and stompin'. C'mon, let's get back to the Function," Nash said. "Besides, Little Sadie's waitin' for ya." The boys laughed at Nash's teasing words. They shooed Cub like a fly and turned to walk away.

Cub tried to blow the lantern out again. This time a spark jumped from the flame, buzzing and crackling as it sped toward the dirt wall. "Uh...guys?"

# Chapter 3

## "I Done Told 'Em to Run"

Nash and the other boys turned and stared through the hole that had opened in the dirt wall. "Run!" Three of the five took off, climbed up and out of the trap door, making certain they kicked the bale back over the top. Nash had not budged; he stood in amazement beside Cub.

The three boys, now above ground, bolted to the first person they recognized. . .Cub's mother, who opened her arms to the racing boys. They slammed into her, latched onto her skirt, and buried their faces in the ruffles.

"Whoa there." She managed to loosen their clutching fists. "Where've you boys been? Where's Cub?" She glanced behind the boys. "And I'm sure Nash is with him. Y'all look like ya've been up to somethin' ya shouldn't have. C'mon, spill the beans*1. Where are they?"

The boys were slow to answer. On one hand, they obviously did not want to ruin their secret, but on the other hand, what they had seen warranted an adult's help. Boyd stepped up to the plate. "Uh, ma'am, we might-uh come 'cross somethin' that just don't seem right." The other two boys nodded. "We was in our. . .uh. . .our. . ." Boyd looked at the other two; they coaxed him to continue. ". . .our secret clubhouse, and. . ."

"Your secret clubhouse? Why Boyd, that sounds. . ."

The other two boys saw what was coming—Cub's mother was bumped forward. She reached back and pulled the little culprit to her side as she finished, ". . .a secret clubhouse sounds like fun."

"What secret clubhouse?" The boys cringed at that high-pitched little girl voice.

Boyd hollered, "None-uh your business Little Sadie! It's for older boys. You're only nine, not ten like us, and you're just a stupid girl, so why don't ya run back to the party and get lost."

"Yeah," the other two defended Boyd's choice of words.

"Now boys, Little Sadie can listen in. I'm sure she's old enough to hear 'bout your secret clubhouse, and I know she's a lot smarter than ya think."

Little Sadie took Cub's mother's hand, lifted her chin, and gave the boys a smug look.

Boyd let out a big sigh; this was no time to argue. "Come with us and we'll show ya."

The gals followed them to the back of the barn. Boyd lifted the slat, and the other two boys crawled in. "Well, I was gonna say, 'Ladies first,' but I guess they was in too big-uh hurry. Sorry 'bout that ma'am."

"That's mighty kind-uh ya Boyd." Cub's mother took another look. "Ya sayin' I need to crawl through there?"

"Yup. I mean, yes ma'am. It's the only way to get to the clubhouse and not get caught." Boyd's face reddened.

Cub's mother smiled, and she played along. "Well all right then. After you, Little Sadie." Boyd came through last and readjusted the slat.

"Boyd, it's gone!"

"Whadda ya mean it's gone. What's gone?" Boyd rushed over to the other two boys, and the three brushed away the dust and straw that was scattered all over the floor.

"What're you boys doin'?" Cub's mother asked. "What're ya lookin' for?"

"There's s'posed to be a bale-uh straw and a trap door. . .right here." Boyd pointed at the barn floor. He grabbed the heaviest hammer he could lift from the wall of rusty tools. He swung it with all of his might, but he could not break the floor boards. Every strike sounded solid, not hollow underneath. One of his buddies took the hammer and tried his luck. Nothing. The third boy did the same with no results.

Cub's mother said, "They'll be back in no time. You'll see. You boys just need to come have a glass-uh lemonade or sweet tea."

"No ma'am, they won't be comin' back in no time. I'm purdy sure 'bout that."

Boyd's expression was proof that he was not joking. Cub's mother frowned and knelt beside Boyd, and he burst into tears. He cried through his speech. "I done told 'em to run. I thought they was behind me. If'n we can't get down under this here floor, there ain't no way we'll be able to help 'em."

She held onto them all, seemingly at a loss for words.

Little Sadie crossed her arms and took a wide stance. "I'll come back here every day till they show up."

Boyd, not about to let a girl outshine him, said, "We'll do the same. Maybe we can take turns."

"Yeah! We can take turns," the other boys piped in.

"Now hold on a minute kids. Nobody's gonna take turns. Or spend their days or nights in this barn. I'll go get Cub's pa and Nash's folks, and together we'll think-uh somethin'."

# Chapter 4

## Stranger Things Hadn't Happened

Cub and Nash stood staring through the gaping hole where a section of dirt had burst and disappeared at the spot where the lantern's spark had landed. A sparse forest began to come into view as their eyes adjusted to the light.

The lantern was yanked from Cub's hands. He and Nash watched it magically float through the opening into the forest. Tiny voices shouted, "C'mon in!" but the intimidating scene beyond the floating lantern gave them reason to hesitate. "Hurry! There ain't much time." The voices were fading and seemed to be coming from. . .the lantern?

The boys looked at each other, shrugged, and stepped through the hole. They no sooner got through when the dirt that had vanished reappeared in a reverse burst and sealed the opening behind them. But no dirt wall was there when they turned around to look.

Through the trees and down the hill they could see the mayhem of a roughneck western town. A man holding two heavy coin bags startled everyone when he banged through the bank doors and leapt from the rickety wooden sidewalk. He pulled down his bandana mask, shot his gun into the air, hollered, and took off.

Cub and Nash covered their ears when an out-of-tune train whistle blasted the almost recognizable tune of "Orange Blossom Special." They watched an odd-looking steam locomotive come into view. The steam from its whistle was red to match the engine's spoked wheels. Pure white smoke in shapes of cowboy boots, lassos, and horseshoes escaped the twisted smoke stack. The engine was painted green and gold, and the cars were each a different shape and color. Prismatic flags that constantly changed colors stood straight out on their poles at the front of the engine. The train came to a stop, but not without a lot of racket. The conductor belted out, "Marshall's Gap! If'n ya want off, now's your chance. Marshall's Gap!" People poured out of the train cars and headed here and there.

Cub and Nash heard approaching gunfire and saw the townsfolk clear a path. A couple of men on horseback tore through the center of town, followed by a gang, whooping and hollering, all riding animals the boys did not recognize. They heard the sounds of bullets pinging off rusty milk cans. Wooden crates snapped into pieces as people were thrown through windows. The boys' eyes widened when they saw a man go flying through the air into the middle of the street as he was thrown out of the saloon, backwards, followed by bottles and a chair. He quickly picked himself up and raced back in, only to come flying back out, landing on the chair and breaking it into pieces; this time he did not move.

"Whew-ee! That there was a close one boys. We almost got caught. My little friends barely got the straw bale broke up and scattered and the trap door sealed 'fore your ma and buddies got there." The stranger looked at Cub's and Nash's confused faces. "Well where's my manners? The name's Bristol." He removed his straw hat with a yank, which uncovered the shiny top of his partially bald head. Then he did a deep bow.

Cub had been taught to keep himself tidy and to dress nice; Bristol did not exactly present a first impression that met Cub's standards, so he was getting mixed signals regarding whether to trust the man. He took in Bristol's bushy eyebrows, his mud-filled ring of hair stretching around the back of his head from ear to ear, and his long scraggly beard (which almost reached his knees). Cub's eyes carried down to Bristol's ragged cut-off bib overalls with filthy straps running up over his bare shoulders and a worn leather gun belt and holsters with a dingy pistol in each. Cub grimaced at the man's spindly, dust-covered, hairy legs and a pair of huge, disgusting, blackened bare feet.

Bristol popped back up from his bow and slapped his straw hat back on his head. "I'm the rootin'-tootinist gunslinger in the Lower West!" He pulled his six-shooters from their holsters and ripped off several shots into the air. "WOO-HOO!" He spun the revolvers over his head, let go, and they magically dropped back into their holsters. The safety straps flipped over the thumb busters*2 and snapped shut without Bristol's assistance.

The boys' eyes widened. "WOW!"

Cub was impressed. Bristol's magical actions were quickly erasing Cub's first impression; he decided to trust this stranger no matter what he looked like. "Scuse me, Bristol sir, but whadda ya mean. . .'the Lower West'?" Cub asked.

Bristol leaned into the boys' faces. "Why, ya done found the land b'neath the land. This here's the real West...the Lower West. . ." He jumped back and opened his arms, showing off all the scenery around him. "You'll see thangs and happenin's ya ain't gonna find 'bove ground."

"How come we ain't never seen this place 'fore?" Cub studied the landscape. "I mean, we been meetin' in our clubhouse for a while and ain't never knowd 'bout this place. Why now?"

"Well, it's like this. . ." Bristol paused and motioned toward the lantern in the air. "Go ahead and fly it on over to Cub now."

Cub took a step back, and Bristol chuckled. "Cub, I'd like to innerduce ya to Buck and Trixie. They's Pee-Wee Flyers. They don't bite. Go on, take the lantern Cub." He laughed and slapped his knee when he saw the look on Cub's face. "Like I said, there's thangs down here in the Lower West that ain't 'bove ground."

Cub reached out and took the lantern from the two small hovering figures who were dressed in tiny cowboy/cowgirl outfits. Buck spread his wings to their fullest and tipped his tiny cowboy hat. Trixie curtsied. Then they both flew into Bristol's beard.

"How come ya know my name?" asked Cub.

"'Cause I'm s'posed to. I'm the most important friend you'll have down here, Cub. And again, where's my manners? Who's your pal there?"

Nash pushed Cub out of the way. "Nash. My name's Nash." He extended his hand for a shake. He had always told Cub he wished he were taller, so he appeared to be thrilled to meet an adult he could look square in the eye.

"Pleased to meet ya Nash."

Cub stepped in front of his friend. "Now back to my first question. How come we ain't never seen this place 'fore?"

Bristol looked around. He half-crouched then whispered, "It'd be best not to tell ya here. . .too many ears. Let's git back to my cabin where we can talk in private." He gave a whistle, and an animal came running. Bristol hopped up onto its back.

"What is that thing?" Cub asked, looking at the dappled animal that was far too wide for Bristol's legs to do anything but stick straight out to each side.

"Not what, who. His name's Pancake." Bristol flashed a wide, four-toothed grin.

Nash swallowed hard and spoke up, "I ain't never seen a pancake that looked like that!"

"Me neither," Cub said. "And I ain't never seen an animal with such stubby legs holdin' up such a chub of a body."

Pancake uttered a small whimper and hung his head. Bristol stroked the animal's thick neck and looked at the boys. "Ya done gone and hurt 'is feelin's." He patted Pancake between his elephant-like ears and spoke to him in a low soothing voice. "It's OK fella. They's new here. They'll take a likin' to ya real soon."

Pancake livened back up and, much to Cub's amazement, blushed, sported an embarrassed smile, and pawed at the dirt.

Bristol turned his attention back to Cub and Nash. "Pancake here's a blunderpoke, but don't let the name fool ya. He can be fast as lightnin' when the time calls for it. Shoot, he can even fly. And carry a horse at the same time!"

Pancake struck a determined pose with one front leg lifted and positioned as if he were a trusty steed.

Bristol reached down for Nash's hand. "Now hop on up here b'hind me and we'll head to the cabin."

Cub knew Nash was afraid of large animals, but to his surprise, Nash got right to it without hesitation. Cub backed up. "I don't know. Our parents're gonna be awful worried 'bout us. We really oughta get back to the Function. Nash, come on back down here, and Bristol, can ya make that hole into our clubhouse open up again, please?" Cub's dwindling courage fueled his words. Again he tried to blow out the lantern, again to no avail.

Nash stayed put. "Don't be silly Cub. We'll make it back home 'fore the Function ends. Right Bristol?"

"We'll see," Bristol said as he stroked his long beard.

Cub bit his lower lip in deep thought.

Nash reached out a hand to help Cub up. "C'mon. We ain't ones to give up a chance like this." When Cub did not move, Pancake swung his horse-shaped head around and bumped Cub, shoving him right into Nash's hand, and Nash pulled him up. Cub dropped the lantern and plopped on top of the hippo-bodied mammal with no choice.

"Well, I guess this means we're goin' to your cabin, huh?" Cub said.

"It shore does." Bristol tugged gently on the rope strung between Pancake's ears, and off the animal poked, blundering a bit. Cub looked back in an attempt to memorize the spot so he would know what to look for when it was time to go home.

# Chapter 5

## "I'm the WHAT?"

Bristol's cabin looked cozy and rustic from the outside. They all stepped onto the wrap-around porch, and Bristol stomped on a board; the front door opened. "Well, whadda ya waitin' for? Git on in and make yourselfs at home. I'll be back in a jiffy. Gotta feed Pancake or he gits a mite cranky."

The boys walked in and found the place to be much tidier than Bristol himself. There was a hanging kettle half-full of what looked like beans and franks bubbling over glowing coals in a fireplace. "Mmmm. . .mmm that smells good," Nash said. "I wonder if there's a spoon or somethin'." He looked around. "I'd shore like to give it a try."

"Are ya crazy? We just met the old man. That might be all he has to eat for the next few days. Besides, I know you're full from the extra three-or-so chocolate chip cookies ya stuffed in your mouth back at the Function. Where's your manners, for Maycly's sake?"

"I guess you're right. But that don't mean it ain't temptin'."

They heard a stomp and the door opened. "I see ya found my lentils and red caps."

"Lentils and red caps?"

"My very own secret recipe. Some-uh the best butter beans you'll ever find, stirred up in sweet barbeque sauce and spices, mushrooms that've been marinatin' in a secret red sauce and added at just the right time." Bristol closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, inhaling the aroma. "Oh, and there's a few skunk eggs*3 chopped up, some tomaters diced, some. . .wait a minute. I ain't gonna tell ya everthang or I'd be givin' away my secret!" The boys laughed. Bristol dished up a bowlful for each of them, added a couple slices of soft tack*4 to each plate, and they sat down at the round pine table to eat.

"Where's the silverware?"

"Silverware? Shoot, people like me don't use no silverware. That just makes for more dishes to warsh." Bristol heaved a wheezy contagious laugh, picked up his bowl, and began to dunk the bread and slurp his meal, using his fingers to get the straggling beans and mushrooms that stuck to the sides. The boys followed his lead, appearing to be thrilled at not having to use silverware.

Cub sucked up the last of his lentils and red caps, licked his now-orange lips, and wiped his mouth on his now-orange sleeve. "Thanks Bristol. That was delicious. It's so cool ya let us call ya Bristol and don't make us call ya Mr. somethin'. Makes us feel all growed up." Nash agreed with Cub on both counts.

Bristol smiled, and it spread into a warm grin. He patted Cub on the back. "Good to see ya warmin' up to me a little better and not worryin' so 'bout your folks worryin' 'bout ya." Cub knew he was still in big trouble, but for some unidentifiable reason, he did not want to leave. He had already grown fond of the cabin, Bristol, Pancake, the Pee-Wees, and being allowed to live like an adult at the age of ten.

Nash tilted his chair back on its hind legs and tried to balance—something he was always trying to do at home, though he always caught heck for it.

"Don't lean so far forward sonny. Here, watch." Bristol tilted his log chair back on two legs and balanced with perfection, his hands comfortably behind his head. "See? Now try it again."

Nash tried Bristol's technique; his chair balanced instantly on its back legs. Cub let out a belly laugh. Nash blurted, "What's so funny? I did it on my first try, and I'm still doin' it. I bet you can't even do it at all."

Cub caught his breath. "Yeah, well, you ain't doin' it at all." He gasped for more air. "But ya sure are givin' Buck and Trixie a workout."

The Pee-Wees could not hold the front legs of Nash's chair up any longer. They let go and darted out of the way as the chair came crashing down. Nash's face landed in his bowl. When he came up his now-orange face triggered laughter all around, even his own.

"All right boys, 'nough-uh the fun for now. It's time to git down to business. Time to tell ya, Cub, why you're here."

"What about me? Am I here for a reason too?"

"Well Nash, not on purpose. But I s'pose seein' as how ya come through to the Lower West with Cub, ya can help keep an eye on 'im for me." Nash slugged Cub in the arm, and Cub did the same to Nash.

Trixie spoke up. "We'll take care-uh the dishes. You guys move over to where it's more comfterble." She nodded to Buck, and they began to clean up the table. Together they flew one dish at a time to the sink. Buck pumped some water into a couple of pans while Trixie sprinkled powdered soap onto the dish. Then she and Buck donned their special dish washing shoes, held hands, and jumped into one of the pans of water to get their shoes wet. Out they came, landing feet first on the dish. Then they skated through the soap with their "sponge slippers" to get the dish clean. When all traces of food were gone, they flew it to the rinse water to get rid of the suds, and finally to the drying rack. Obviously, the Pee-Wees were going to be busy for a while.

Cub and Nash sank deep into fluffy cushions on the couch. Bristol's rocker creaked when he took his seat by the window. It creaked louder when he leaned over and reached down into a tin can. "Dandelion stem to chew on?"

"Shore. 'Cause when I grow up, I wanna be just like you," Cub said.

"Me too," Nash echoed.

"But I thought ya was already growed up. Ya know, eatin' with no silverware and all, just like perfesh'nal grownups here in the Lower West."

"Well, ya know what I mean." Nash felt his ears heat up.

Bristol twirled the dandelion stem a few times in his mouth and tied it in a knot with his tongue. Once again, Cub was impressed.

Bristol stared out the window for several minutes. The awkward silence led Cub to believe the old man was in deep thought. Finally, Bristol spoke up. "Cub, has anybody ever told ya anythang 'bout the future?"

"Let's see...my ma once told me that if'n I keep crossin' my eyes they're gonna stay that way, and my pa told me if'n I keep shovin' watermelon seeds up my nose, vines'll grow out-uh my ears when I get older. But that's pretty much all I know 'bout the future."

"Well now there's a couple-uh thangs I ain't never heard tell of, so I guess ya better mind 'em on that." Bristol smiled at Nash, who was shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "The best advice my pa ever give me was, 'Don't squat with your spurs on'." Nash giggled. The old man turned his attention back to Cub. "What would ya think if'n I said ya could bust a rock in pieces just by pointin' at it? Would ya believe me?"

Cub shrugged his shoulders. "I guess so."

Bristol reached into his pocket, pulled out a rock, and placed it on the small table in front of the couch. "Go 'head boy, point at that there rock."

Cub was not sure if he was being taken for a trick or not. Nash coaxed him on. Cub lifted his hand, pointed at the rock, and the rock just sat there.

"Oh, sorry 'bout that. I done forgot one important thang. When ya point at it, ya gotta say the words, 'Be now dust'."

Cub looked at Nash, then at Bristol. He curled his lips in, took a deep breath, then pointed and said, in a timid voice, "Be now dust." A small spark fizzled from his fingertip and lumbered its way to the rock. The small rock broke into misshapen, lumpy clumps. Cub gave Nash a smug look as he blew his fingertip like a smoking gun.

Bristol sat up straight with obvious excitement. Smacking his lips, he said, "Well, it ain't quite dust, but it'll do for a first try."

Nash, who had always loved magic of any kind, said, "No way! Do it again."

"I can't," Cub said. "There was only one rock."

Bristol winked at Cub. "Not a problem. Point at the lumps and say, 'Be now whole'." He held tight to the arms of his chair.

Cub re-situated himself on the couch and did just as Bristol had told him to. This time the chunks collected, the rock regathered into its original shape (well, close anyway), and the small spark returned to Cub's fingertip, causing his wrist to snap back. The other two laughed at his shocked expression.

"Don't worry Cub. You'll get the hang of it," Bristol said.

"What was that all about?" Cub asked. He saw the Pee-Wees skating on a soapy dish, not paying any attention, and his stomach did a flip. He changed his tone. "I thought for sure Buck and Trixie was in on this, but I. . .I'm really doin' this?" He rubbed his arm. "That felt plum weird," he said as he stared at the small black powder mark on his fingertip, still not sure if he should allow himself to believe what he had just done. He was glad Bristol let the event sink in a little longer before speaking.

"It's all your doin' boy," Bristol said. "I told ya, you have a reason for bein' here. Would I lie to ya?"

"Don't see no reason for ya to."

"And it ain't just rocks ya can take apart and put back together." Bristol grabbed an arm of his rocker with one hand and his beard with the other. His elated response put a smile on Cub's face. "If'n it's a substance, ya can purdy much make it happen by usin' them words I just taught ya. And ya don't have to start by turnin' it to dust neither; ya can work the magic in reverse. But somethin' important to remember—ya cain't go changin' everthang whenever ya feel like it. It's gotta be purdy important for ya to go usin' that kind-uh magic. Don't just be usin' it to be usin' it. Ya hear me?"

"Yessir." Cub nodded several quick times. Again, he stared hard at his tingling fingertip.

"Here's 'nother thang," Bristol continued. "Don't go wastin' it on tryin' to turn anythang bad into bits and pieces; it don't work real good for that purpose. The way I understand it, there's some purdy mean thangs that have a way-uh bringin' themselfs back from that magic, and they'll always be meaner'n before. And most important, ya cain't use it to bring the dead back to life. We need to leave that up to SUL. But ya can shore try and fix 'em up if'n they're in a bad way. Oh, and you've only got a few times it'll work for ya. But don't get your trousers all bunched up over it, 'cause you'll know exactly when to use it. Got me?"

Cub gulped and nodded several times again, but with a little less enthusiasm.

Bristol got up out of his rocker and went to a large trunk pushed against the wall. The boys heard him mumble a few words, and they watched as the locks and straps undid themselves. He lifted the lid with caution and waited for a few moths to clear. He then reached in, pulled from the chest an old book, and blew the dust from it's cover. He mumbled something else, and the trunk lid dropped shut. He hurried to the couch and squeezed his way between the boys.

"That's the coolest lookin' book I ever saw!" Cub reached for it.

"Ah-ah-ah! Don't touch. This here's gonna be Nash's job. Nash, would ya please dial the knob on top-uh the book? Let's see." Bristol scratched his head. "If'n I remember right, it's three times to the left."

Nash, evidently unable to resist the chance to do magic, turned the knob.

"Now three times to the right."

Nash did as Bristol had said.

"And now ya gotta push on the knob."

When Nash pushed on it, eight flat interlocking gears—one pair on each corner of the book—appeared and began grinding and turning. Two pairs went clockwise, and the other two pairs counter-clockwise. Everyone jumped when the book spoke from the inside. "Who has awakened me? It was not the hand of The Carrier. To you, whoever you are, I shall not reveal what lies within. I will now wait for The Carrier, but The Carrier must come to me before I return to sleep. If The Carrier does not come to me within a few minutes, I shall sleep for 117 years. Even if The Carrier attempts to open me during those slumbering years, I shall not respond until my rest is complete."

Bristol panicked. "No! No! The Carrier is here. Cub, quick! Turn the knob left and right three times each and then push on it just like Nash did. Hurry, 'fore the book sleeps again!"

"But you heard the book. It wants The. . .The. . .Carrier. I'm just a normal kid. I'm just. . .Cub."

"Oh no. YOU are The Carrier of The Element. Hurry! Hurry!"

"Carrier-uh what Element? What in tarnation are ya talkin' 'bout?"

Nash wrung his hands together. "Just do it Cub!"

"First tell me what The Carrier is, or I won't do it."

"All of this bickering could have been avoided, old man, if you had not played games with me." The book sounded way past angry. "You have two minutes before I stop my gears and find my sweet sleep."

Nash was now screaming. "Two minutes? Cub! C'mon! Just do it!"

Cub frowned and moved his hand toward the knob. "Before I touch this thing, I gotta know what The Carrier is. I'm skeered."

"There ain't no time to explain. B'lieve me when I say it's an extremely important thang to be. There's only four Carriers in all existence. Now turn the dad-blamed knob and push it!"

"One minute. . .you have one minute," said the book in a solemn yet frustrated tone. Its gears were slowing by the second. "When my gears stop at the designated point, I shall be asleep. The last matching gear teeth of each pair will begin to glow as they near their meeting point, and I will be sealed for 117 years." The distinct sound of a yawn came from inside the book.

Bristol picked up Cub's hand and slapped it onto the knob. "One minute. You heard the book. Git movin'!"

Cub began to sweat. His lungs barely filled between his rapid breaths.

Bristol felt Cub's hand starting to move. "Atta boy. Three to the left. That's it. Three to the right. Now push!"

Cub finished the sequence only seconds before the glowing gears were aligned. The gears stopped, and the book spoke. "Ah! The Carrier is among you."

They all watched the gears begin to turn in reverse. "What's it doin' now?" Cub asked.

# Chapter 6

## Blackjack

Thundering sounds came rolling from the distance and interrupted the book event. Chaos made its way to the cabin in a few short seconds. Bristol ran to the window. "Boys, grab the shotguns! We got comp'ny. It's the outlaw gang!" He raced to slam the shutters on all the windows.

Cub tossed the magic book to the couch, made a mad dash to a corner of the cabin where he grabbed a shotgun, and ran it to Bristol.

Nash screamed like a girl and took to crying.

Bristol shouted at Nash, "Now ain't the time to be skeert boy!" He turned to Cub, pointed at a gun cabinet and said, "Go! Grab the Ol' Betsy for you and the Ol' Blue for Nash. Snag a handful-uh shells and fill your pockets!"

Cub took off and glanced at the couch on his way by. "What about the magic book?"

"Ah dang, the book. . .uh. . .here." Bristol moved a spittoon with his toes to reveal a hole in the cabin wall. "Shove it in there."

Cub turned and grabbed the magic book, dropped it to the floor, its dials still spinning, and kicked it through the small cut-out. Bristol did not miss a beat; he took aim and cut loose firing through a slit in the wall as he reached with his toes and put the spittoon back in its place.

Cub shoved fistfuls of ammo into his pockets and grabbed the two shotguns. He ran toward Nash with the barrels in his hands, both stocks dragging the ground.

"Cub," Bristol yelled, "you tend the west side-uh the cabin. Nash, you take the back. I'll cover the front and the east side. There's gun slits here and there in the walls. And there's already two shells loaded in each shotgun. Make ever shot count!"

Cub dropped the Ol' Betsy and darted over to Nash with the Ol' Blue. "Here, take this." He shoved the shotgun into Nash's chest.

Trembling like a cold bird, Nash had no choice but to take hold of the 12-gauge double-barrel breech loader.

Cub filled Nash's pockets with shells. "Remember, she's already got two shots loaded." Cub patted Nash on the back and raced to his station on the western side of the cabin, grabbing up the Ol' Betsy on his way. He slung the 16-gauge, single-barrel, pump-action weapon right into a slit in the wall, flipped off the safety, and started ripping off shots.

Nash tried to get his gun into a slit just above his head. When Cub had to reload he caught a glimpse of Nash out of the corner of his eye. Nash was fumbling about, so Cub dropped his heavy weapon and came to Nash's rescue. He pushed Nash to the right, yanked the barrels out and down, and thrust them through a slit that was at eye level, the gun never leaving Nash's hands. Cub was disgusted with his friend's show of cowardice. "Make your shots count!"

Nash's face went pale. "But my pa ain't never showed me how to shoot and load a real shotgun Cub."

Cub heaved a big sigh. He pushed Nash out of the way, caught the falling shotgun, and fired the two preloaded shots, one nicking the kneecap of a rider whose wailing gave Cub chills. Cub broke open the chamber. "Shells go in here. . .like this." He flung the chamber shut and clenched Nash by the arm, helped him back to a kneeling position, and placed the shotgun in Nash's hands. "This here's the safety—I got it turned off, which means it's ready to fire. It's just like aimin' a rubber band gun. It'll have a little more kick though, so keep it pulled tight into your shoulder." He patted Nash on the back again and took off for the loudest side of the cabin. He retrieved the Ol' Betsy and shouted across the room at Nash, "And don't forget to keep it aimed ONLY at the bad guys!"

The ruckus blasted from the dust cloud that engulfed Bristol's cabin. Bristol was darting from the front wall to the side wall, shooting and reloading faster than Cub thought humanly possible. The sounds of the outlaws screaming in pain were a sure sign Bristol and the boys were hitting their targets, barely visible through the roiled up dust.

Cub stopped and shouted, "The doorknob's jigglin' Bristol!"

"We'll be all right 'less one of them meanies stomps on the openin' board. Just keep shootin'!"

Nash's sudden high-pitched scream was hair-raising. "They're on the roof! I hear 'em trompin' around. Whadda we do?" In an obvious panic he raised his shotgun straight up and pulled the trigger, shooting a hole through the roof. The gun's kick landed him flat on his back, but he was quick to get up.

They all heard a thud on the roof. "Good shootin' buddy!" Cub said.

Bristol mumbled under his breath, "But I'm gonna see to it he's responsible for patchin' that hole."

There was another thud on the front porch, and the door flew open. The outlaw Nash had shot had tumbled off the roof and landed smack dab on the door-opening board.

"Dang it!" Bristol hollered.

Cub tossed his shotgun under the table and hit the floor with Nash. He grabbed Nash's collar and tugged on him; they crawled out of sight behind the door. Buck and Trixie joined them.

The silhouette of a large man appeared in the whirling dust in the doorway. He stepped inside, and the dust followed him like a shadow. With his head down, he took his time rolling a cigarette.

Bristol caught Cub's eye and motioned for him to keep quiet. Cub put his hand over Nash's mouth. While Bristol had Cub's full attention, he cut his eyes to Nash, then down with a slight head nod toward a nearby rug, then back to Cub. Cub understood and whispered the plan to Nash. Bristol motioned for Buck and Trixie to come to him. They knew just what to do.

The cigarette the giant man in the doorway had lit began to glow, and the orange tip brightened as he took a hefty drag. He tilted his head back, blew the foul smoke into the air, then looked at Bristol; he did not see Cub and Nash disappear through the cabin floor, nor did he see Buck and Trixie crawl into the side pocket of Bristol's bib overalls.

When the dust settled, a gruff voice spoke, cigarette smoke seeping through his nostrils with every word. "Now Bristol, I know there's more'n one of ya's in this here cabin. A gunslinger like yourself is good. . .real good, I'll give ya that. But I won't believe a word-uh what ya say if'n ya tell me you're the only one in here." He took another drag from the contorted paper stick.

"Awe, now Blackjack, there ain't no need to think I'd be lyin' to ya. So you're gonna have to b'lieve me when I tell ya we're the only two people in this here room."

Smoke floated around Blackjack's words. "Do we have to do this the hard way ol' man?"

"Ain't that how we roll?" Bristol reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of Pee-Wee sparkles and blew them right in Blackjack's face. Buck and Trixie bolted out the back door while Blackjack was temporarily blinded. Bristol dropped to the floor and crawled between Blackjack's legs toward the front door.

Blackjack dropped his smoldering cigarette right in front of Bristol's face and grumbled, "Not so fast there gramps." He stepped on Bristol's hand holding the shotgun.

"Ouch, dang it! Ya lousy good for nothin'. . ." Bristol choked on the cigarette smoke and coughed, blowing the cigarette away from his face. He jerked his hand, trying to free it from under Blackjack's boot.

Blackjack gave a whistle through his yellowed teeth, and a couple of other gang members darted into the cabin. "Yeah boss?"

"Seems as though Bristol here's tryin' to get away. Sort-uh makes me think he ain't fond-uh our visit. Whadda you boys suggest we do 'bout that?"

Bristol felt himself being yanked up by the underarms, then he hung with his feet dangling. A few remaining sparkles dropped from his pocket.

A couple of other outlaws scanned the horizon looking for anyone running away. Blackjack hollered at them, "Don't worry 'bout 'em; they was just a couple-uh Pee-Wee Flyers. Useless pests." He looked at Bristol and laughed.

Bristol kicked his legs, running in the air to nowhere, and squirmed in an effort to free himself. He looked Blackjack in the eye. "You boys think you're so tough." He shook his head. "You and your gang ain't nothin' more'n a bunch-uh yellow bellies."

Blackjack moved his face to within a couple of inches from Bristol's. "Well let's see. We're the ones holdin' you at bay. So if'n that's what cowards is, I guess we're some-uh the best. Ain't that right boys?" The two outlaws holding Bristol nodded and drooled tobacco juice as they laughed along with their leader. "Tie 'im up and throw 'im on the back of the palameetah*5 we done stole from that wimpy cowboy campin' outside-uh Marshall's Gap." Blackjack lingered in the cabin as the other two took care of Bristol, who was fighting all the way.

Cub and Nash were used to keeping quiet when they were under a floor, but this was much scarier than it had ever been before. Blackjack's fancy chain bootstraps and spurs jangled with every step. The boys froze when he stopped just above them. Through the cracks in the floor they could see the soles of his boots, pitted and marred. His long black leather coat creaked as he rolled and lit another cigarette and raised it to his mouth. His face was covered with a coarse five-o'clock shadow accentuated by his wide-brimmed, black leather hat. His holsters were weighted with a Colt single-action in one and a sawed-off blackpowder firearm in the other. And protruding from between his gun belt and the waistband of his pants was the unmistakable stock of a Buntline Special*6.

Nash's face was streaked with dust that stuck to the moist remnants of the tears he had shed. He and Cub remained motionless as Blackjack took his time finishing his cigarette. He dropped the butt to the floor, and as he twisted it with the toe of his boot, a few red-orange ashes fell through the cracks and landed on Nash's arm. Nash screamed. Their cover was blown.

Blackjack dropped and peered through the uneven floorboards. "I see ya's in there! Get up here." He started scratching on the floor to find the access hole.

Cub took off crawling as fast as he could.

"Cub! Wait up! We can't leave Bristol. You're The Carrier, and ya need 'im. And what 'bout that book? Cub!" Nash crawled at a snail's pace through Cub's dust.

Blackjack had heard everything. He grabbed the Ol' Blue Nash had been using and fired it into the floor. But the chamber was empty, so Blackjack turned the shotgun around and splintered a hole through the thin, brittle floorboards. He poked his head through just in time to see Nash disappear into the darkness. "Hey! Come back here!"

An outlaw's voice came from outside. "Hey boss! We got the ol' geezer on the palameetah."

"Be right there." Blackjack spit into the hole as he pushed himself up to his feet, cursing under his breath. "So The Carrier's a boy named Cub. And he has a pipsqueak, mamby-pamby, big-mouthed tag-along." Digging his yellow-stained fingernails into his cheek, he slowly raked them through the coarse stubble. "They ain't seen the last-uh me." He brushed himself off and headed outside. He was certain he could get Bristol to talk this time.

Nash was in a full-on gag from the critters that could be heard and felt scurrying through the musty-smelling passageway. "Cub? Ya still here? This tunnel's as dark as anything I ever seen. . .or ain't seen."

"Keep your voice down! I'm here. I'll stop so ya can crawl to me till we touch."

Nash eventually grabbed something solid. "Please tell me that's you Cub."

"It's me buddy. Ya got aholt-uh my boot. The tunnel's taller here, so sit up and we'll catch our breath."

Nash adjusted himself and took Cub's hand for security. "That was a close one Cub, too close for comfort." He sniffled.

"Yeah, it was, but we're here now so we might as well make the best of it. And just 'cause I can't see ya don't mean I can't hear ya." Cub folded his legs up under himself. "Ya wouldn't want Bristol to know ya was cryin' now, would ya?"

"He ain't never gonna know 'bout me cryin'. . ." Nash hiccuped a gulp of air. ". . .'cause we ain't never gonna see 'im again."

"Whadda ya mean? He's our friend, ain't he?"

"I reckon so."

"Then it's up to us to save 'im. . .right? I mean, this could be bigger'n any adventure we ever dreamed of."

Nash paused, weighing his options as his excitement built. "Ya know, I think you're right. It could be big. And if'n we don't find Bristol, no one will."

"That's the spirit!" Cub moved his grip to Nash's wrist, pulling Nash's hand up to face level.

Smack! "Ouch! That hurt," Nash whined. "What'd ya slap me in the face for?"

"I was aimin' for a high-five. I guess I missed. Sorry."

"Geez Cub." Nash rubbed his cheek.

They crawled onward several feet. A small bit of light broke through the darkness. "Nash, look. It's that magic book!" They crawled closer. "It's glowin', and the strap's done busted apart." Cub reached for it.

Nash grabbed Cub's hand. "I wouldn't open that."

"Why not? What's up with you? Ya know that's what Bristol was gonna do." Cub tugged his hand from Nash's. "And besides, I'm The Carrier-uh The Element, whatever that is."

"I know, but maybe Bristol was just doin' some kinda magic or somethin' and makin' us think the book was talkin'."

The tunnel brightened slightly behind them and got brighter by the second. Tiny voices said, "There you two are. Thank goodness! We thought the outlaw gang had taken y'all with Bristol." Buck and Trixie sped toward Cub and Nash. Taking the boys' noses in their tiny hands they dished out a rapid fire of Pee-Wee Flyer kisses to both.

With eyes crossed, Cub shouted, "WOW! And are we ever glad to see you!"

Cub and Nash pulled the Pee-Wees from their noses and let them go. "You guys sure leave a mess-uh sparkles when ya fly, don't ya?" Nash said.

"Well, yeah. And ya can 'specially see 'em when it's dark." Buck and Trixie did opposite loop-d-loops making circles of glittery dust. Cub and Nash applauded them.

Cub asked, "Hey, do you guys know anything 'bout this magic book?"

"Very little. Bristol brought it home to the cabin a long, long time ago and put it in that trunk. That's all we know."

"Oh great. That's about as useful as tellin' ya watermelon vines are gonna grow out-uh your ears," Nash said. Had it been any brighter in the tunnel, they could all have seen Cub blushing.

"Never mind him," Cub said. "He's bein' a skeerdy cat 'bout openin' that book. Bristol told me I was The Carrier-uh The. . ."

Buck and Trixie flew into each others arms and gasped. Buck coaxed, "Go on."

Cub's face contorted, then he slowly continued, ". . .The Carrier-uh The Element, and the book'd only open for me and stay open for me, or somethin' like that."

The Pee-Wees flew toward Cub. Buck spoke. "We've heard 'bout the four Carriers-uh The Elements, but we never dreamed we'd get to meet one."

Trixie added, "Well do tell. That's the last time we do dishes when Bristol has guests! Apparently we need to be 'Pee-Wees on the wall'*7 so's we don't miss out on anything. Ain't that right Buck?" Buck gave a stern nod.

Cub smiled at his two new tiny friends. "And I never dreamed me and Nash'd end up in a magical land called the Lower West where we'd meet up with two Pee-Wee Flyers." Buck and Trixie giggled.

Cub was curious about the other three Carriers but he somehow knew the time was not right for asking questions. "OK, two things: one, we gotta find Bristol, and two, I gotta find out what bein' The Carrier-uh The Element's all about. . .and I'm thinkin' it has a lot to do with this here magic book. Would you guys like to join us?"

"You bet! We're the rootin'-tootinist Pee-Wee Flyers in the land!" Buck and Trixie pulled their tiny pistols from their holsters and shot them into the air. "Yeeeee-haw!"

Cub said, "You guys've been hangin' 'round Bristol too long." They all laughed it up.

Nash, who seemed tied up in the excitement, said, "I guess that makes the four of us a posse now, right?"

They all agreed.

Cub raised his fist with pride. "To the Bristol Posse!"

"To the Bristol Posse!" echoed the others, whooping and swirling their fists in the air.

Cub said, "Now let's open this here book and see what's next." He was ready for anything, or so he thought.

# Chapter 7

## Darkness, Sparkles, and Magic

Still crouched in the tunnel, Cub pulled hard on the book's cover, trying his best to open it.

"Do not pry!" shouted the book from inside as it squirmed and grumbled. Nash and the Pee-Wees jumped. It did not phase Cub. He put his ear to the book. Over the sounds of surprise coming from the others, Cub heard the book whisper, "Things must happen before I open. Quiet your friends and watch."

"Hush up everybody! The book just told me to tell you guys to watch. So watch."

Nash huffed. Buck and Trixie clung together in the air. Cub white knuckled the book as he stared at the cover. It became animated and began to evolve. Large eyes appeared, complete with lashes and brows. Wrinkles formed creating a forehead. Rosy cheeks slightly puffed out. The knob turned into a nose, and a mouth unzipped open. As the book's face gained detail, it also gained brightness, filling in the gaps where the Pee-Wee's sparkles did not reach. Buck and Trixie darted behind Cub.

The leathery book cover squinted its gold-rimmed, life-filled, sparkling green eyes attempting to focus; their brightness bounced off the Pee-Wees' wings. When all became clear to the book, its mouth curled up in a half-grin. The book's leather creaked as its face shifted its attention from each of the Pee-Wees to each of the boys. It stopped when it got to Cub. "You must be The Carrier."

Cub looked at his friends over his shoulder. They shrugged with bewilderment. He glanced back down at the book. "That's what Bristol told me, Mr. Book."

The book smiled, and Cub loosened his grip. "You need not call me Mr. Book; you and your friends may simply call me Marshall."

"Marshall? How'd ya ever get a name like Marshall?" Cub asked with his head tilted.

"Would you like to hear the story?"

A resounding "Yeah!" came from everyone. Buck and Trixie took a seat on Nash's shoulders.

"When SUL created Planet Land He created me and buried me deep in the ground. He called my full name Marshall Law, because written within me are the original scribblings of the laws governing Planet Land. For you see, I am the only one of my kind. Many copies of me are referred to as The Law of the Land and contain the necessary laws everyone needs to know and should abide by on Planet Land, but the copies are not magic and do not play a crucial part in the creation of SUL's new Earth. They do not talk, and they do not contain all that I hold; I contain things that make me more valuable than gold. I must not fall into the wrong hands."

Nash's eyes got big. "I didn't know anything could be more valuable'n gold!"

Buck said, "Ya mean that's all ya got out-uh everything Marshall just said? Ya didn't really hear anything important that he was talkin'. . ."

Cub cut him off. "Wait a minute. . .the wrong hands?. . .part-uh new Earth's creation?. . .ya sure ya got the right Carrier?"

"Yes Cub, I am certain."

"Tell us more. . .please," begged the Pee-Wees.

"Well Cub, shall I continue as your miniscule friends request?"

"Please." Cub was just as eager as the Pee-Wees to hear more.

Marshall took a deep breath. "Many of the inhabitants were more interested in my worth than they were in SUL's future plans. Greedy folks from all around Planet Land began over-populating Copper Junction when they caught wind that I might be buried there, and they began to dig for me. They dug so hard, so fast, and so deep that Copper Junction collapsed, me along with it, and the Lower West was born."

Trixie said, "Ya mean there used to be a town right above us?"

"Yes, and there still is. But it was reconstructed by SUL after it fell through. The new Copper Junction is the place from which Cub and his friend Nash came. Here is another interesting point. SUL felt it better to cover the Lower West and its rowdy bunch and give it its own sky, sun, and moon. He graced it with a few other familiarities, but with hardly any magic left in Him, several of the things He made turned out different than you ever saw on Planet Land. . .somewhat mixed up."

"I'll say! Like Pancake," Cub said.

Marshall could not help but chuckle. He nodded at Cub. "Yes, like Pancake. But even in SUL's weakened state, He saw to it that I was buried deep in the Lower West. Those who fell through were, and still are, determined to find me, however. A while back the riffraff was getting too close to finding me, and that is when SUL called on Bristol. He told Bristol where I was and asked him to 'unbury' me and tuck me away until time. Bristol found me where you will now find the roughneck town of Marshall's Gap. The hoodlums named it after me."

Nash's face lit up. "Gee, that's a real honor."

"I suppose so Nash."

Buck darted toward Marshall. "So that's why Bristol sent us through to Cub and Nash's clubhouse to open the portal? Are ya sayin' SUL told 'im to?"

"That is correct Buck. The Carrier was supposed to get through to the Lower West. . ." Marshall's wheels adjusted, his brows pushed down, and his eyes shifted to Nash. Marshall then cleared his throat. ". . .and apparently his friend."

Nash, obviously not catching the sarcasm, smiled big as he ran his thumbs through his suspenders from top to bottom a couple of times. "Then I was meant to be here too, huh?"

Marshall ignored Nash for the moment and continued his story. "Along with the laws of Planet Land, I am the holder of the very information needed to find The Element of land, which is, of course, the sole responsibility of The Carrier. And yes, just like Bristol told you, you must believe me when I say you are The Carrier, Cub. You must also believe in yourself."

"Everybody keeps talkin' 'bout Elements. What's so important 'bout these Elements?" Cub asked.

"Planet Land is one of the four elemental planets that exist in the space beneath Maycly. Each tiny planet is named after its main element: Land, Water, Sky, and Fire, and each elemental planet is nourished by Maycly. Each planet has an element that is crucial to the creation of SUL's new Earth. The Carrier must oversee the element of each planet."

"Wow!" Cub twisted around and looked at the others again, then he quickly returned his full attention to Marshall. "How am I gonna get to all those planets?"

Marshall tried to wiggle into a more comfortable position. "Cub, each elemental planet beneath Maycly has a designated Carrier."

"Just like me?" Cub beamed for a split second.

"You might say that," Marshall said. "The three other Carriers have begun their quests, just like you, on their respective elemental planets. But thanks to Blackjack's interference, you are running a little behind."

Cub thought for a minute. "But ain't SUL the Grand Wizard? He can fix anything accordin' to Ma and Pa. Why don't He just fix all-uh this?"

Marshall's leather face scrunched, and he sighed. "Yes, He is and He could. But remember, His magic is dwindling fast. He did not have enough magical power left to create His new Earth as He had hoped. At Earth's end He devised a plan and rationed His magic wisely, caching enough to preserve the needed amount of magic in each element to bring about the new Earth. Now it is all up to The Carriers. You, Cub, are The Carrier of The Element of Planet Land."

Cub's face flushed. Questions raced through his cluttered mind. "How come so many folks down here are so extra mean? I know there's still a few meanies in Copper Junction, but not like this place."

Marshall answered, "Greed is a peculiar thing. It can turn the nicest of folks into ravenous wolves. And it spreads like wildfire; some who may not have been bad can turn bad, and those who are already bad can get even worse because of greed."

Cub fired another question at Marshall. "But I thought the real Evil was done away with when SUL slammed it into Earth. That's what Ma and Pa taught me."

Marshall had the answer. "Evil did slam into Earth, but because there was so much Evil, it spread far and wide when it hit. For that reason, and by the time SUL came up with the new plan, it was impossible for Him to break off any elemental chunks that did not contain some kind of Evil. But I can assure you, He did His best to sever the pieces with the least amount."

"But what 'bout Bristol? He ain't evil. . .is he?"

"No, Bristol is not evil. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it turned out to be a good thing, otherwise SUL would not have had anyone He could trust to keep me hidden. And I know old Bristol did his best to keep me a secret, because I am now in the hands of The Carrier." Marshall shot Cub a wink.

Nash blurted out questions of his own. "Well where is The Element? What is it?" His vigorous motions almost caused Buck and Trixie to tumble from his shoulders.

"Those answers are within me, but you must all understand that I may speak only to those whom SUL permits. And even then I may answer only the questions SUL has given me permission to answer. But one thing I can tell you is, at least Cub is in for a journey of trust and faith."

"What's faith mean?" Nash asked.

"Faith, my dear boy, means you will do something for the sake of Good without knowing how to do it, all the while trusting that SUL will show you how. It also has a tendency not to let you know how long the journey will take or what the consequences will be. Oh, and most importantly, faith means not always believing what you see, but always believing what SUL has spoken, whether seen or unseen."

Cub's concern kept him from remaining silent. "That sounds great and all Marshall, but can ya help us find where that mean ol' Blackjack took Bristol?"

"Oh, Cub. Your heart is certainly in the right place, and your motives are pure, but I am afraid all I can do is lead you to The Element and its final destination. I have no idea where Blackjack took Bristol; I am afraid you are on your own for that one. But I will be with you every step of the way on the journey to find and deliver The Element to its destination, no matter where that journey takes us." Marshall smiled, and his numerous shiny white teeth shone. "Now, what if we go ahead and open my pages? You can read it for yourself."

"That'd be great!" Cub shouted.

# Chapter 8

## Weighed and Measured

Cub reached out and smacked Nash's hand when he touched Marshall's face. "What're ya doin?"

Marshall cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry," Nash said as he felt the contours of Marshall's mouth and chin. "It's just that I ain't never touched a talkin' book 'fore, and I. . .well. . .I couldn't help myself."

Sparkles burst in every direction. "Us neither!" Trixie shouted. The Pee-Wees flew in and rubbed their tiny hands on Marshall's cheeks. Their shared enthusiasm made Cub smile.

Marshall said, "Actually, Cub, I am pleased to be appreciated rather than sought after by a bunch of hooligans." Cub could tell Marshall was softening up because he let Nash and the Pee-Wees make over him as much as they wanted before he got down to business.

"Now, where were we?"

"Ya said ya was gonna open. Remember?" Nash, Buck, and Trixie moved in closer to Cub.

"Ah, yes. Then here we go. Cub, for the first opening, you must ask me to open."

"OK. Marshall, would ya please open?"

Marshall closed his eyes and whispered some unfamiliar words. Then he relaxed and said, "It would be my pleasure Cub." Marshall's gears did a few extra turns, and his cover gracefully swung away from the pages. "Cub, do you see my Table of Contents?"

"Yep. Pages 1 through 499, 'The Law of the Land.' 500 through 1399, 'The Book of Good and Evil'. . .wait." Cub hesitated before he spoke. "WOW! My ma and pa told me a couple-uh stories from that. I can't wait to read it all the way through."

Marshall glowed. "Someday you will get the chance. But for now you will notice that pages 500 through 1399 are sealed together." His light dwindled just a tad. "I am not allowed to open them to anyone, not even The Carrier, so I would appreciate it if you do not ask." Everyone agreed not to mention them to Marshall again.

Cub returned his focus to the Table of Contents. "Page 1400 'The Element,' 1401 'The Carrier's Instructions,' and pages 1402 and 1403 'The Map'."

"Turn to page 1400 please." Cub did as Marshall asked. "Can you read it?"

Cub placed his index finger under the first word, and his finger moved along beneath the first sentence. "I shore can! It says, 'The Element of Land is a special element. It must be treated with the utmost respect. It is cru. . .crucial to opening the door to perfect land on SUL's new Earth. The Element of Land is a magic. . .a magic. . .' I'm sorry Marshall. I ain't never seen this word 'fore."

"I thought you might stumble on that one. The Element of Land is a magic stalactite."

"What's a stat. . .tat. . .tactlite?" Nash asked.

Cub saw Trixie and Buck whisper to each other and shake hands.

Marshall clarified the matter. "It is pronounced sta-lac-tite Nash. A stalactite is a mineral structure—a kind of rock—that rains down from the ceiling of a cave, drop by drop, without reaching the cave's floor. It looks somewhat like an icicle."

Sparkles twinkled when Trixie slapped Buck on the back and said, "Pay up mister. I was right." Buck crammed his hand into his pocket, brought out a Pee-Wee penny, and slapped it into Trixie's open hand. "Don't mind us," Trixie said to Cub. "Keep goin'." Buck rolled his eyes.

'The Element is a magic stalactite that sings. Many stalactites that are not the true elemental piece try to sing as though they are. But there is only one that has been chosen to be The Element of Land.'" Cub paused.

"Good job Cub. Keep going."

Cub's finger slid from left to right. "'The Carrier of The Element of Planet Land must go to the secret cave (the elemental shrine) in Boulder Dache, where he will find the correct magic singing stalactite. He must place it, unbroken, in its designated spot. The Carrier must look for a stained-glass box hanging from the ceiling. Inside the top of the box will be a socket into which the base of the magic singing stalactite will fit.'"

"That's easy enough. Ain't it Cub?" Nash said.

"Yeah, shore." Cub rubbed his eyes. "But I think there's prob'ly more to it'n that. Am I right Marshall?"

"You are." Marshall answered. "Keep reading."

"'When the nourishing roots from Maycly reach their allotment of time in keeping their planets nourished, the detachment process will begin. Be aware: when the painting on the walls of the shrine begins to dance, you will have only until the next sunrise before Maycly's root detaches from Planet Land. Those few hours before the root detaches are the only ones during which The Element can be put in its place for SUL's new Earth to be created. This holds true for all four of the elemental planets and Carriers. If any one of the four magic Elements fails to reach its respective destination before the roots are fully detached, each elemental planet and its inhabitants will suffer a slow death. If all comes together and a new Earth is created, SUL's power will return, twice as strong as His strength was at the beginning of creation.'"

Cub's excitement grew as he let the whole scenario sink in. So much was brand new to him, and so much was still unknown, but that did not dampen his spirits. He picked up Marshall and turned toward the others, hugging the book to his chest. "We can pull this off. . .can't we?" He studied their faces, not convinced they were 100 percent sure. He wanted them to feel the same excitement as he felt, so he added, "And even if'n we can't, we can die knowin' we gave it our best shot. Right guys?" They were less than enthusiastic and not sure how to answer Cub since they could also see the look on Marshall's face.

"Do not get too excited just yet Cub," Marshall warned. "There are consequences you must understand."

"OK, what are they?"

"Place me back on the ground and open me to page 1401."

Cub did as Marshall had instructed. He was startled when he noticed words appearing on the page in a different color—a deep crimson-orange that swirled like hot coals. He put his index finger under the words to follow along. "How come these words feel warm. . .hot?" He pulled his finger back and rubbed it.

"They are words of warning, Cub. Listen carefully to them as you read them aloud."

"'Should The Carrier choose the wrong stalactite, he shall take the form of The Element himself, and all shall go as planned for SUL's new Earth. Should it come to pass that the true Carrier of any elemental planet is not the one who places the elemental piece in its destination before the roots of Maycly detach, Evil shall consume every elemental planet, thus ending the creation of the new Earth—the final world promised by SUL—'"

Not fully realizing the tragic possibilities of what he had just read, but rather being more concerned about the well being of everyone else, Cub blurted, "What 'bout Maycly? It's good forever, ain't it?"

Marshall fluttered his pages with a bit of frustration at Cub's short attention span.

"Oh, sorry." Cub continued reading. "'. . .and Maycly shall fade away along with all Good, as it and its inhabitants will be feasted upon by Evil for eternity.' What 'bout SUL? He'll always be here," Cub pondered this for a moment. "Won't He?"

Again Marshall gestured in frustration, and Cub resumed his reading. "'SUL's magical powers will then be stripped from Him, and He shall be no more.'" Cub felt a rock in the pit of his stomach.

No one said a word for quite some time. Cub rubbed Marshall's pages with nervous thumbs.

Nash finally spoke up with panic in his voice. "That's really evil! I understand we got our own bad guys in Copper Junction, but didn't ja just say all the really, REALLY bad Evil was done away with when it smashed into Earth? Ya know, like FAZ and them?"

Cub snapped his head around and hollered at Nash, "Was ya not just listenin'? Evil, even meaner'n Blackjack, is out there."

Cub turned his attention back to Marshall and whispered, "Do ya think FAZ is really out there?" He felt Marshall jitter.

"I am afraid you have asked me something I am not at liberty to answer, by order of SUL. But He said He needs you to make sure you do your best at helping Him out of this mess."

Cub's eyes teared up. "Why do we need a new Earth anyway? Ain't we fine and all, just the way things are?" He did not expect a response from Marshall. He knew, deep down inside, it was not possible to change things now. What SUL had put into play was going to come to pass, but not without Cub's help. Cub pounded the dirt with his fists, gritted his teeth and grunted, then he grabbed Marshall and read the last sentence. "'And without SUL's new Earth the balance of nature and all things Good will be destroyed by Evil throughout the universe.'"

Cub hung his head. His small hands were getting sweaty and beginning to shake. Buck and Trixie flew to catch Cub's tears so they would not fall onto Marshall's pages. Cub spoke through his tears. "That means no family, no friends, no animals or plants, no. . .no. . .no nothin'. I'm skeered Marshall. I'm really skeered."

Nash felt sorry for Cub. "There ain't no need to be 'fraid. I ain't no brave bobcat myself, but together I'll bet all four. . ." he looked at Marshall, ". . .I mean, all five of us make up an unstoppable, angry mountain lion!"

Cub was not sure if he should believe Nash, because Nash had never really seen a brave day in his life. Cub did not look up, he just said to Nash, "How come you're so sure 'bout that?"

"'Cause you're our best friend, and now you're our leader. Shoot, you're The Carrier. Marshall's right, ya gotta believe in yourself as much as we believe in ya. We're gonna help ya Cub. We'll find that Element and rescue Bristol. . .together!"

Cub left his head down, thinking. When he eventually looked up, he saw three big smiles. "Gee, guys, you're the best friends anybody could ever ask for." Tears dropped on Marshall; the Pee-Wees had their work cut out for them keeping his pages semi dry. Marshall waited until Cub had had plenty of time for this to pass before asking the youngster to continue.

"All right Cub, on to my last two pages. They are the most important," Marshall said.

Cub turned to the pages. "They're blank!"

"Patience boy." Marshall made a slight adjustment. "I must tell you, 1402 and 1403 are the most particular of pages, and rightfully so. They will want to make sure it is safe to reveal the information to your friends, along with you. If Nash or the Pee-Wees are not worthy to be party to the map, the pages will ask Nash to leave and return to Copper Junction, where he will not be able to speak or write. Likewise, the pages will ask Buck and Trixie to depart and never speak with you again."

Cub took in a deep breath. Buck and Trixie moved behind Nash's left ear; Trixie peeked around while Buck watched over the top, and they all waited.

Cub watched as the pages began to ripple like sand in shallow, fast-moving water. Thread by thread they detached themselves from the book's spine. They examined Nash, moving at a snail's pace from head to toe, front to back, and side to side. Each page then made a rapid circle around Nash's head and shoulders. Without warning, the pages stopped abruptly in front of Nash's face. Buck and Trixie burrowed into Nash's hair. The pages darted opposite to each other, back and forth, their papery existence snapping at the end of each movement, as if they were playing a game of hide and seek with Buck and Trixie. The pages made several rapid spirals around Nash from head to toe, then a few slower spirals back up until they were again directly in front of his face. They crinkled and crackled, folding themselves into a shape. "What are we?" page 1402 asked Nash.

Cub could see the look of terror on Nash's face. Nash squeaked, "You're a palameetah,"

"Correct." The pages unfolded, then they crumpled to make another formation. "Now what are we?"

Buck answered, "That's easy. You're a stagecoach."

The pages acted harassed at Buck's cocky answer coming from Nash's hair, but they continued nevertheless. "What are we, Nash?"

"A stagecoach?"

"Correct."

The pages wrinkled and creased themselves into another formation resembling a head. Two very dark indentations made eyes, and smoke magically seeped from the slit that made a mouth. "What are we?"

Cub felt the blood run from his face. Buck and Trixie slunk deeper into Nash's hair at the sight. Shaking, Nash answered, "Uh. . .I don't think you're a what, I think you're a who. And that who is Blackjack."

"Most excellent boy," page 1403 said in a professorial sort of tone. The pages unfolded, snapped, and the wrinkles vanished.

"Now, you Pee-Wee Flyers. If you are true and faithful Pee-Wees, tell us how blunderpokes came to be."

Buck and Trixie flew into plain sight. Buck answered first. "Three animals collided when SUL made the Lower West: a hippo. . ."

Trixie chimed in, ". . .a horse. . ."

Together they ended with, ". . .and a pachyderm." Pleased with their answer, the Pee-Wees backed up until they were sitting on Nash's shoulders.

The pages hung motionless in the air for several seconds, then they floated down to the ground and reattached themselves to Marshall's spine. Cub and the others could do nothing but wait for the pages' answer. It was quiet enough to hear a Pee-Wee Flyer blink.

Marshall held his breath. At last he let out a rush of air, and the map pages rustled with force. "The pages have decided to reveal the map to all of you!"

Cub's tension grew as the map began to appear.

First came Bristol's cabin in the far northeast corner of Tuck-Away Woods. Locations continued to appear on the map, working their way from east to west. Everyone watched as deserts, mountains, rivers, and hollows developed. Small towns popped up here and there. The train track etched itself around the border, one railroad tie at a time. More towns appeared, the last being the biggest, Boulder Dache, located in the northwest corner of the Lower West. Cub studied the map. "So where's the elemental shrine? Where's the magic stalactite?"

# Chapter 9

## "X" Marks the Spot

A small branding iron appeared above the map. It lowered itself to a point above Boulder Dache and left a scarlet mark. Cub pointed and shouted, "THERE! The Element and the shrine have to be there! 'X' marks the spot, right?"

"Correct!" Marshall smiled pleasantly.

Cub pointed to a specific spot on the map and said, "If'n we're here, close to Bristol's cabin, and we gotta get to Boulder Dache, I say we stay as far away from Marshall's Gap as we can and keep our eyes peeled for any signs-uh Blackjack and 'is outlaw gang so we can find Bristol." Cheers filled the tunnel as the group supported their brave Carrier. Cub picked up Marshall and hugged him.

Marshall spoke to Cub. "Before we move on, open my back cover." Cub did. "Do you see a small, square piece of leather pasted there?"

"Yes sir," Cub said.

"Please peel it from the cover and place it on the ground in front of me." Again, Cub did as Marshall had asked. "Now step back and watch as a small portion of SUL's magic, which He tucked away on the day He created me, begins to work."

The leather expanded, twisted, gyrated, and became a backpack with a window on the front side. "Please place me in the backpack. This will make it easier for you to carry me. And put me in face-out so I can at least see where we have been." Everyone laughed. "And there are two small pouches; if Buck and Trixie get weary from flying, they can ride too. It is a long journey to Boulder Dache. Are you up for it?"

"By faith!" Cub shouted. He put Marshall in the backpack, face-out, and slung the straps over his shoulders. Cub took the lead with Marshall lighting the way. He tried to hide his jitters. He had no idea how much farther they had to go and where, or if, they would find an exit.

# Chapter 10

## Mud Suckin'

Splat!

"Yuck!" Cub's hand hit the ground, but now the soft dirt had turned to mud. "Marshall, this is gettin' pretty sloppy to crawl through." His knees sank deeper and deeper every inch of the way.

"Shut yer yap, Cub! I think we're in trouble. Listen."

"Manners, Nash," Marshall reminded the boy. "You need to ask Cub nicellllllllyyyyyyyy-bbllbb-bbllbblllb..." Marshall and Cub dropped out of sight. "Naaaaaash! Help us!" Cub's voice faded below.

Before Nash could answer, the ground gave way beneath him. He joined Cub and Marshall as they plunged over a waterfall, Marshall facing the pool at the bottom square on.

Buck and Trixie, realizing what was happening, grabbed handfuls of Nash's hair for the ride. He heard them shouting right in his ears, "Woooo-hooo! Over the falls! Ride 'em cowboy!"

Gyrating, arms and legs flailing, with no time to get his bearings, Nash hit the pool at the bottom. Buck and Trixie let go just in time to avoid taking the dive with him. The swirling water carried Nash to the opposite side of the pool from Cub and Marshall. The Pee-Wees caught up with Nash as he pulled himself up onto a moss-covered narrow ledge. He looked out at the middle of the deep pool and saw bubbles rising from the water behind Cub. He was about to make a joke when he realized the seriousness of the matter and hollered, "Roll to your belly Cub! Marshall's drownin'!"

While trying to catch his breath, Cub had forgotten Marshall was dangling from his back. He rolled, and Marshall spit and gagged, gasping for air.

"He's. . .too. . .heavy! I can't...keep his face. . .above water." Cub struggled to dog paddle. "I'm. . .sinkin'. HELP!"

Buck and Trixie sped to Cub. They undid the straps over his shoulders, freeing the backpack. But water-soaked Marshall was too heavy for the Pee-Wees to keep above water; they were doing no better than Cub had done. Nash dived in and swam to catch up with Buck and Trixie, who were watching Marshal sink deeper and deeper. Nash grabbed Marshall, and the three struggled to hold the water-soaked book's face above the surface, Nash swimming at the same speed as Buck and Trixie could fly. They headed for a large rock sticking up out of the water and deposited Marshall there as smoothly as possible.

Nash clung to the rock, keeping Marshall's backpack from sliding off. He scanned the surface of the water for his best friend. "Cub? CUB! Where are ya? Cub?"

Buck and Trixie scurried haphazardly through the air, looking for Cub.

"I'm. . .over. . .here."

"It sounded like it came from that direction, over there somewhere," Nash hollered.

The Pee-Wees took off in the direction Nash had pointed. "Cub, where's 'here?' Answer us!" They heard nothing in response except the thundering water. Eventually they could make out a sloshy sucking noise. They followed the slurping and found a small patch that resembled a bog. "There he is!" Buck shouted.

"Let Nash know," Trixie hollered.

Sure that Nash would never hear his tiny voice, Buck flew in a pattern so that his sparkles spelled C-U-B, then he shook his backside so the sparkles dropped on Cub. He pointed down, hoping Nash had seen the whole thing.

Nash saw Buck's message and shouted, "Yee-Haw! Is he OK?" But the Pee-Wees could not hear him over the sound of the falls.

Trixie gave a whistle and a shout. "Buck, hurry. We need to get him breathin' air instead-uh mud. We might already be too late."

Considering the shape Marshall was in, Nash knew he had to stay put and take care of the water-logged book to save him as well. Unbeknownst to Nash, Cub was face-down in the muck, covered in kittykarp that were sucking on him as if he were a pasty dough ball used for bait.

Buck and Trixie pulled out their tiny bullwhips and began to crack them in the air. "Get off-uh him, ya big slimy water breathers!" "He ain't your supper!" They whip-snapped for several minutes, then they worked their wings while hovering on their backs, their feet straight out pushing the fish from Cub. The kittykarp began to squirm and flop in the muck. Buck and Trixie herded them back into the water where they belonged.

Once the whiskered fish had cleared out, the Pee-Wees flew to Cub's head and pulled back on his hair to lift his face from the mud. They managed to place a rock under his chin to keep his head out of the gooey mess. Buck pulled his lasso from his belt and tossed one end to Trixie. "Drag it across his nose and mouth to clear the slime." Trixie caught the rope without ever missing a beat.

Nash showed up just in time to see the mud being wiped away from Cub's face.

"You should be with Marshall!" Trixie said in a panicky voice. "His pages're soaked, and he's too heavy to balance himself on that rock."

Nash did a half-turn, and there hung Marshall in the backpack. "It was his idea."

"Besides, what are a few soggy pages?" Marshall said, a big smile on his face.

"Oh, whew! It's good to see you're gonna be all right, but we don't know what to do with Cub. He was face-down suckin' mud for quite a while. We cleared the mud from his face, but he don't seem to be breathin' at all."

Buck removed his hat and said to Nash and Marshall, "Ain't no air goin' in or comin' out. I'm kinda thinkin' the little feller might be. . ."

"DON'T SAY IT!" Nash rolled Cub over and started reviving him. He cleared the mud out of Cub's mouth, pinched Cub's nose closed, and did mouth-to-mouth, then he pressed hard on Cub's chest a few times. He went back to giving mouth-to-mouth. "Come on Cub. You're my best friend. Don't give up on me now." He pressed Cub's chest again.

"Wait'll I tell Little Sadie you've been kissin' on me!" Cub smiled at Nash, then he laughed and choked on some muddy water that came from his lungs.

Nash grinned and patted his buddy on the arm. "Don't matter to me what ya tell anybody. I'm just glad ya ain't dead."

"Where's Marshall?" Cub coughed again.

"He's right behind me." Nash did another spin, and this time Marshall smiled at Cub. "And he's gonna stay right behind me till we're outta this wet mess."

Cub stood—albeit wobbly—and threw his arms around Nash, his hands covering Marshall's nose. Buck and Trixie laughed at the sight. "Where ya s'pose we are Buck?" Cub asked.

"Well, with all the kittykarp that was feastin' on ya, I'd say we're either right beneath or right close to Sucker Fish Lake."

Nash blurted out, "Cub, I think I see a boat in the cattails," and he took off. The Pee-Wees followed him. He called to Cub, "It's a boat all right, but there ain't no oars."

Cub started looking around. "I guess these used to be them." He held up two lanky poles with rotted, half-broken paddles on each end. His hopes fell.

Nash said, "I know. . .what if'n we tie flat rocks to the ends and remake 'em?" Cub could tell Nash was proud of his own idea.

"And what're we gonna use for string, ya idiot?" Cub shook his head.

"How 'bout these?" Trixie was hovering in the air, holding strands of something. Cub looked puzzled.

Buck said, "They're kittykarp whiskers. Some of those aqua-felines lost 'em in the frenzy, wallerin' over top-uh each other."

Trixie said, "Don't worry, they'll grow right back. Buck and I can tie the whiskers together and make longer strands. You guys go and find the two flattest rocks ya can."

"Fish whiskers? Really? Ya want us to believe those slippery whiskers are gonna hold together?"

Marshall spoke up. "You Pee-Wees get busy tying the whiskers. Cub, you and Nash start looking for flat rocks. Remember, faith is not always believing only what you see."

Cub's face scrunched up; he was not convinced this was going to work, no matter how much faith he could muster.

Marshall eased his doubt. "Trust us. Leave me here with Buck and Trixie and GO FIND THOSE STONES!"

Nash took the backpack off and gently placed it on the ground with Marshall face-up, then he and Cub set off.

When they returned, Cub said, "These are the best we could find. Whadda ya think Marshall?"

"I think they will do perfectly. Now help the Pee-Wees tie them to the oars."

Trixie was jumping rope in the air with one end of what appeared to be a long lasso.

"Are them the fish whiskers?" Cub asked.

"They shore are! Don't ya just love when that happens?"

"When what happens?"

"When Marshall does his magic."

"I didn't know he could do magic. I only thought he was magic."

"Well, he said he's not s'posed to do it unless it's a real emergency, but he thought this was a real emergency. He asked SUL first, though, and SUL said it was OK."

Cub thought, I never figured SUL'd help a couple-uh kids. I thought them stories Ma and Pa read to me from The Law of the Land was for when I got old like them so I'd know how to talk to SUL too.

"Cub, those stories are for kids too."

Cub startled at the calm, inward voice he had just experienced. He looked to see if the others had heard the same thing, but he decided no one had, as they were all busy chit-chatting about the oars. He walked away. "Who's there?" He could not believe he was even going to ask the next question, but whispered it anyway. "SUL? Was that You?"

Nash whistled at Cub and shouted, "Let's get rowin'! We need to rescue Bristol and get The Element."

Nash's loud voice ruined the moment for Cub, so he allowed it to pass; he would have been too embarrassed to explain himself if he had been caught talking into thin air anyway, so he came running over to the boat and jumped onto the front seat. Nash slid Marshall, still in his backpack, over his shoulders and took the middle seat so he could row.

"We'll be in our pouches on the backpack guys," Buck said. "Trixie's purdy done wore out from that adventure. Wake us up if'n ya need anything."

Cub said, "Buck, Trixie, thanks. . .for everything."

The Pee-Wees nodded and nestled into their snuggy pockets for the boat ride. Marshall began to snore.

"From the sounds-uh things, I'd say it's up to you and me to get us outta here," Nash said as he pushed off from the shore and began to row downstream.

"I don't think it's just us two. I think we got help. . .really good help." Cub could not get the sound of the mysterious inward voice he had heard out of his thoughts.

"I know that."

Cub went wide-eyed at Nash's words. "Know what?"

Nash stopped rowing, let go of the oars, and turned to look at Cub. With exaggerated movements he spoke, "I just meant that, with the others asleep, it's up to you and me to get us outta here. That's all."

"Oh."

"Why? What'd ya think I meant?"

"I don't really know. I guess a bunch-uh slimy kittykarp suckin' on ya while you're face-down in the mud can make ya kinda weird."

"Ya got that right." Nash laughed and turned back around, continuing to row.

Cub let out a quiet sigh of relief. He did not want any of them thinking he was crazy. Being so far away from his home and parents made him think this was the only "family" he had for now, and he wanted to give them no reason to desert him.

# Chapter 11

## The Boat Ride

It had seemed like hours to Cub. Concerned, he asked, "Where we rowin' to Nash?"

"Not sure. But I been hearin' some splashin'. I think it's comin' from that openin' 'head of us. Maybe it's waves on a shore?"

"Yeah, I hear it too. Maybe it is. Keep rowin' and let's take a look."

When they reached the opening they saw a herd of. . .somethings. . .romping in the water. Marshall began to glow when he awoke to the sound of animals wallowing in a mud pond. The critters spied the boat and scattered in every direction. Cub grabbed the sides of the boat, and Nash held tight to the oars as the resultant waves rocked them.

"Nash! Get down!"

Before Nash could even think about ducking his head, a rush of wind mussed up his hair as one of the beasts flew over.

"We are in luck!" hollered Marshall. "Buck, Trixie, round up a couple and bring them on over." Buck and Trixie took to the air.

"A couple-uh what?" asked Cub.

"Plume-moose*8." Marshall paused at Cub's expression. "My apologies. I forgot you two are not completely familiar with the Lower West." Marshall winked at Cub. Nash was rubbing his head as if he had been beaned by a baseball, though in reality the creature had not even touched him. "Do not worry, they are harmless. They merely spook easily. The best part is, they are our ticket out of here!"

Buck and Trixie lassoed two of the large flying fur balls just above the boat. "Cub, toss me that extra whisker-rope," shouted Buck. The Pee-Wees looped the rope around a couple of the plume-moose then dropped the ends of it down to Nash. Determining he had not been damaged by the initial fly-over, he grabbed the ends of the whisker-rope.

"Tie 'em to the oar locks and hold on! They'll fly us out-uh here," Buck said.

"How do ya know that?" Nash was hysterical. A cold sweat broke out on his face.

"Shhh. Calm down," Marshall said in a soothing voice.

Buck said, "They seem to favor Sucker Fish Lake. We see 'em flyin' 'round there all the time in the mornin' and early evenin'. Thing is, they always disappear durin' midday. Now I'm suspectin' this must be where they come to stay out-uh the heat. And my guess is, Sucker Fish Lake's right outside that hole up yonder."

"H'yah!" Trixie shouted, echoed by Buck. The plume-moose lifted the floating craft with ease. The small boat came unglued from the water, shook, and went lopsided.

Marshal shouted, "Nash! Help Cub!"

Cub was toppling over the side. Nash leaned back, trying not to smash Marshall (though Marshall was close enough to lick the floor of the flying boat. He closed his eyes and curled his lips in to avoid a muck sundae). Nash threw his arms over his head, Cub latched on, and Nash pulled his friend toward the center of the boat. Once they were balanced, Cub helped Nash sit back up.

"Easy boy," Marshall groaned.

Cub realized he was pushing on Marshall's cheeks. He and the others caught their breath and hung on for the rest of the ride, the plume-moose tugging hard with every flap of their fluffy wings. The boat rocked with each wing stroke. Buck's reasoning had been right on target. They popped out of the opening into the light of day. Buck and Trixie steered the animals to a safe landing on Sucker Fish Lake. The Pee-Wees untied the plume-moose, and the cumbersome creatures flew to the shoreline and began to graze in the shade. Buck and Trixie went back to the boat and took a seat on Cub's shoulders.

Nash rowed to the shore, hopped out, and took Marshall from his back, placing the backpack gently on the sand. Nash flopped down beside Marshall. "Wow! Am I ever glad to be out-uh that place!"

Cub was not about to argue. "Me too."

"Me three," Marshall added.

"And us four and five." shouted the Pee-Wees in unison.

"Let's take a break," Nash said to Cub. "C'mon!" Nash got up and he, Buck, and Trixie took off running to play with the plume-moose that were in the water. But Cub stayed behind with Marshall; he was a bit confused and felt certain Marshall would have the answers to straighten out all the unorganized thoughts that were knocking about in his head.

# Chapter 12

## High Road – Low Road

Cub watched Nash, Buck, and Trixie romp and play in the water with the plume-moose. He and Marshall shared secrets and laughed at each others' jokes. They discovered more and more about one another. After a while Cub sighed. He asked Marshall, "Where do we go from here?"

Marshall returned a look of what could only be construed as admiration at Cub's evident sense of responsibility. "Let us open me up and see how much water damage the map took. I did my best to protect it."

He and Cub cringed at the sound of the sand, grit, and dried mud grinding in Marshall's gears. The strap unlatched, and Cub opened Marshall to the map pages. His face drooped at the appearance of the map. "It's kind-uh messed up." He hesitated before he whispered, "Marshall, do ya think SUL'd listen if'n I asked Him to help us? I mean, I know I'm just a kid and all, and I don't think He talks to kids. . .does He?"

"Why not give it a try and see. I will not tell the others, I promise."

Cub hesitated, then he closed his eyes and continued to whisper, "SUL, if'n Ya listen to kids, I'd like for Ya to be listenin' right now 'cause we need Ya to make the map all better again so we can read it. Ya see, I'm pretty shore Ya got somethin' to do with choosin' me to be The Carrier, and I can't do nothin' if'n I ain't got that map. OK?" He held his breath and stared at Marshall's pages.

Mist began to rise from the map pages. Cub could barely contain himself. He heard that inward voice again. "The pages will be dry in a moment. And just so you know, Cub, I'm really fond of kids."

"Marshall! Did ya hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"It was SUL, I just know it! He said the pages'd be dry in a minute. . .a moment. And He said He's fond-uh kids. WOW!"

"I did not hear a word. He must have been speaking to you with His inward voice."

"He did? I mean, yeah, He DID! He talked to me. I can't believe it."

"Believe it Cub. He believes in you. In fact, you are someone very special in The Law of the Land book."

"But Ma and Pa never read that part to me."

"Did they ever read you the story about the one who will set free the first ribbon of stars?"

"Yeah, I kind-uh remember that part. Sounded pretty neat."

Marshall's leather creaked into a smile, and there was pride in his voice. "That is you, my dear boy. You are the one who is going to set the first ribbon of stars into motion."

Cub felt his ears warm from embarrassment. "I'm still not sure what the ribbon-uh stars is or what it does, but I guess I'll have to keep goin' and trustin' SUL to see how it all turns out, huh?"

"Yes Cub. And might I suggest you stay extra tuned-in to SUL as best you can for the journey that lies ahead."

Cub felt his confidence rise a notch.

Sounds of laughter approached. "Cub! Marshall! You guys should-uh been there. Buck and Trixie helped me pet a plume-moose. They stood on his antlers and petted his ears while I went up real slow to pet his nose. Then BAM! He jerked his head, and the Pee-Wees went flyin'—but not on their own."

Just then Buck and Trixie showed up, dripping wet. They had been flung into Sucker Fish Lake.

"See what I mean?" Nash held his sides as he laughed. "I don't care who ya are, that's funny."

"Yeah, it's real hilarious. Hardy-har-har." A soggy Trixie poured water out of her boot, Buck wrung out his hat. "Just look at this mess," Trixie said in a huff.

"And listen to this," Nash said to Cub and Marshall as he plucked Buck out of the air. "Now be real still and ya can hear him squish like a soaked marshamaller*9." Buck hung limply; Nash gently squeezed him. It was evident the Pee-Wees did not find the same humor in the situation as did Nash, Cub, and Marshall.

The fun died down, and it was back to business. The map had dried out, and Cub took control. "I say we split up. Buck, you go with Nash and take the Mustang Mountain Pass. . .here." Cub moved his fingers over the map. "Trixie, you come with me and Marshall and we'll follow the Saddle Sore River." He poked his finger at the town of Chaps on the map. "We'll all meet up here."

Nash had fear written all over his face. "I don't think that's too safe, splittin' up and all. I mean, you and me, Cub, we're a team. Buck and Trixie're a team, too. And Marshall, well, he's on both teams. I think we oughta all stick together. The Bristol Posse, remember?"

Cub put his hand on Nash's shoulder. "Nash, buddy, ya wanna find Bristol, right?" Nash nodded. "And I need to find The Element, right?" Nash nodded again. "Then we have to cover as much territory as we can in the shortest amount-uh time for it all to happen. I don't have any idea when I need to be at that cave, let alone even findin' it. And the singin' stalactite. . .I gotta find that, too. I figure since I'm The Carrier, Marshall should be with me. Plus, we could both use a guide to help us through the Lower West, and we couldn't ask for nobody better'n the Pee-Wees; they done proved that. And if'n it comes down to havin' to make a choice 'tween findin' Bristol and gettin' that stalactite thing in place for SUL, I'll have to trust SUL and pick what He asked me to do. So it's gonna be best if Marshall and I head to Chaps to see if'n we can find some shortcut to Boulder Dache that the Pee-Wees don't know 'bout, while you try to find Bristol. Deal?"

Nash looked at Cub with an expression on his face that Cub had never seen before. "What in tarnation's happened to you? You're talkin' like a real leader or somethin'. I'm purdy proud to know ya and call ya my best friend." They gave each other a punch in the arm. "But tell me somethin'. . .how do ya know SUL asked you to do this? Ya know, be The Carrier-uh The Element? Don't He only talk to grownups?"

Cub was uneasy but answered with the truth. "Nope. He talks to kids, too. I know firsthand." He looked Nash square in the eyes.

Nash's jaw dropped.

"Now let's get to divvyin' up the supplies we got," said Cub.

"Uh, Cub, we ain't got no supplies. We came here with nothin' but a lantern, and we don't even know where that is now. And I'm pretty shore Marshall here don't have no spare pockets. I'm also purdy shore Buck and Trixie ain't got any pockets big 'nough to hold stuff we can use."

"You're right." Cub was embarrassed at his lapse in judgment. "Let's just split up, and we'll see each other in Chaps. Buck, Trixie, is there a spot in Chaps y'all suggest for a meetin'-up place?"

"There is this one place we know of that serves purdy good food, and they even make Pee-Wee portions. It's a kind-uh bit-house*10, but if'n we take a seat way in the back, we oughta be OK." Trixie batted her eyelashes.

"Sounds great. What's it called?"

"The locals call it 'Bud's Shanty Saloon'—Bud runs the place—but the real name is 'Plain Good Grub'." She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Bud don't keep it real tidy. When ya get into Chaps, if'n ya don't see it right off, I suggest ya ask how to get to 'Bud's Shanty Saloon'."

Cub gave one affirming nod. "Got it. Great. Then we'll see y'all there 'fore sundown. I don't want ya spendin' the night in the mountains, ya hear?"

Nash concurred with Cub. "If'n we got mountain lions in Copper Junction, I don't even wanna imagine what kind-uh things they got in the mountains-uh the Lower West."

Marshall spoke up, "Jabber jowlers. There are jabber jowlers and mountain lions in the Mustangs. Jabbers are nocturnal. They will consume a mountain lion, so yes, be out of those mountains before dark."

Cub sensed the doubt on his friend's face and smiled before he spoke. "Nash, you can do it. Heck, ya fired a shotgun and even hit an outlaw through the roof!"

Nash's mouth pursed, and he crossed his arms. "Yeah, I shot off the toe-uh his boot and caused 'im to fall on the one and only board that could open Bristol's front door and start this whole mess. Plus, I ain't got that shotgun with me now, and you ain't got yours neither."

"Oh yeah. I guess we do need somethin' to fend off scary things." Cub looked around. "'Fore we split up, start searchin' for stuff we can use to protect ourselves." Cub ran a few steps and dropped to the ground. "Fill your pockets with rocks, and find a big stick to carry with ya. . .whatever ya think'll help."

The Bristol Posse began scavenging the shoreline, filling their pockets with suitable makeshift ammunition. They regrouped and said their good-byes. There were a few tears, even from Marshall. Cub kept a close eye on his two friends as they headed toward the mountains. When Nash and Buck disappeared into the jagged peaks of the Mustangs, Cub knew it was time for Marshall, Trixie, and him to get moving as well. He made sure he kept one hand on Marshall and hoped he had made the right decision.

# Chapter 13

## Who Found Who?

Cub, Marshall, and Trixie arrived in Chaps. It was a bit rougher than Cub had expected, so he turned Marshall around in his backpack, facing in, and began the next phase of his plan, daunting as it was. "Scuse me, sir. Is there a shortcut to Boulder Dache from here?"

The gruff man frowned at Cub. "Go on sonny, get out-uh here. This ain't no place for a boy." He pushed Cub out of his way and stomped his bowed legs up the stairs to the smoke shop.

"Scuse me, ma'am. Is there a shortcut I could take to get to Boulder Dache from here? I been walkin' a long time and. . ."

"Why ever would a nice boy like you need a shortcut to that rambunctious town?" She laughed, pushed Cub out of the way, climbed aboard her wagon, and coaxed the team of four blunderpokes to get moving.

Cub did not want to give up. "Trixie, I'm gonna keep askin' people 'bout a shortcut. You crawl into one-uh Marshall's pouches and keep your eyes peeled for anybody or anything suspicious."

"Well that could be the whole town!"

"Ya know what I mean. Tell me if'n ya suspect anybody's followin' us or eyein' us funny like."

"OK Cub. But I can tell ya right up, folks're gonna think it's odd seein' a button like you in a town like this. Kids ain't usually seen walkin' 'round by themselves on the main street where there's so many lush-cribs*11."

"I gotta keep askin', Trixie. We need to know if'n there's any way to get to Boulder Dache without havin' to spend too much time gettin' there. And besides, we can't spend the whole afternoon sittin' at Bud's Shanty Saloon, just beggin' to be asked what we're doin' there."

Trixie thought about that for a moment. "You're right Cub. Just be sure ya don't get in anybody's way. Ya never know how they're gonna react, and we can't afford to get laid up." She flew around to one of the side pockets on Marshall's backpack and snuggled down where she would not be seen but could still watch for any trouble coming up behind Cub. "All right. I got your back."

Cub spent the rest of the day asking around town, but no one was willing to help. The sun was sinking behind the mountains, casting long shadows, and Cub knew Nash and Buck would be there soon, so he headed for Bud's.

Before they entered, Marshall reminded Cub and Trixie to lay low. He added, "And Trixie, keep your sparkles to a minimum." Marshall wiggled to get Cub's attention. He whispered, "Cub, I suggest you find a table in a remote corner just to be safe. Keep your back to the wall, and do not ask anyone anything once we are inside."

Cub walked through the swinging bar doors, though he could have slipped under them by ducking only a little. He had always wanted to walk through the saloon doors back home, but of course his ma and pa never let him.

He heard Marshall whisper, "Make sure you place the backpack face-down on the table. Hopefully the other patrons will mind their own business and not recognize us, or for that matter, not even be interested in giving us the time of day."

Cub donned a young-gun poker face*12. He spotted the perfect table way in the back, off by itself in the corner, under the balcony of the brothel. He made no eye contact as he traipsed across the fermented floor. He and Trixie ordered some food and drinks and kept to themselves, mostly. A few rough-neck Pee-Wee Flyers tried flirting with Trixie, but Cub saw right off that she was more than able to handle herself. He even had to turn his head to conceal a smile when she told them their pick-up lines were so fake and sickeningly sweet the only things they'd attract were syrup fleas! Much to their dismay, Cub and Trixie watched nighttime overtake the Lower West.

"Refills?" blurted the buxom waitress. "How 'bout another sinker*13 with butter'n honey?"

"No thank ya. We're just fine."

She leaned over, and Cub tried not to stare at what was in his face. Her voice was soft and alluring. "I don't mean to dampen your spirits, Sweetie, but I don't think your friends is comin' tonight. It looks like you two done got stood up." She cackled. Her breath reeked of whiskey. "You're welcome to stay the night here. We got a room just for wanderin' kids like yourself. . .and it ain't upstairs neither."

Trixie held her tongue.

Cub had never felt so uneasy. "Thank ya just the same, but we ain't innersted. And how come you're so sure we're waitin' on somebody? We're just a boy and a Pee-Wee Flyer gettin' some grub."

The buxom waitress flung herself back upright and cackled again as she walked away from the table, putting a hitch in Cub's giddy-up*14.

Trixie nonchalantly flew from her place on the table and sat back down next to Marshall. With her mouth full, she chewed her words to him in a whisper. "I ain't seein' none-uh Buck's sparkles out there. Cub looks awful worried. What should we do?" She paused, waiting for the book to answer, but got no response. Then she flitted up to Cub's shoulder, flopped herself down, and squeaked, "He won't talk."

"Well, whadda ya expect? He's only the most wanted thing on the whole planet." Cub sighed.

"I know that, but whadda we do when. . ."

Cub let Trixie's chirping fade. As if the tension of their missing friends was not enough, jingling spurs were drawing closer to the table. Cub tried to ignore the approaching sound, but it made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. All he could think about was Blackjack standing over Nash and him when they were under Bristol's floor, and Cub did not want to meet Blackjack face to face without Bristol. He whispered to Trixie, "Quit your ramblin'. Right now."

The jingling stopped. Cub's attention was deadlocked out the window. He felt leathery chaps rub against his knee, and a slow, gruff voice broke the silence. "You Cub?"

Quick as lightening, Cub put on his best poker face, turned, and looked up to see an unfamiliar man with weathered skin.

Cub scowled. "Who's askin'?"

The stranger wiped his handlebar mustache with a hand that showed a couple of stubs he had for fingers. He glared down his large pitted nose at Cub, meeting Cub's eyes with his own—they were the darkest brown Cub had ever seen, nearly black. Cub tried not to stare at the scar that cut a path from the stranger's chewed-off left ear to the left corner of his mouth.

"The name's Crawler. . .Night Crawler." He slipped his half-fingered hand up to the brim of his well-worn cowboy hat, touched it as he tipped his head slightly forward, then slid it back down the front of his flannel shirt. When his thumb caught the waistband of his chaps, dust dropped to his boots. He adjusted his belt buckle and spoke, very softly, "Nash and Buck sent me." He extended his hand and waited for a response from Cub but got none.

Cub felt Trixie pinch him. He jerked back to reality and reached out to shake Night Crawler's hand. "I'm Cub." He quickly let go of the firm handshake.

Night Crawler grinned. "Your friends said to tell ya they found Blackjack and his outlaw gang, and Bristol's tied up on a palameetah; there's some kind-uh bag over Bristol's head. They don't wanna lose Blackjack's trail, so they're followin' 'im with my help till mornin'. Now listen up. I only track in the dark. Time's a-wastin', and I gotta get back to your friends or they could get into big trouble. They're on the heels-uh the outlaw gang and're headed straight for Marshall's Gap. If'n ya leave now you'll make it there 'bout the same time they do. Meet your Bristol Posse in the mornin' at Colton's General Store." Night Crawler turned and left as unannounced as he had appeared, leaving Cub's thoughts in a whirl.

"Cub, snap out of it!" Trixie flew from side to side slapping Cub's cheeks to bring him to his senses.

"Huh? What? Oh, yeah. We gotta get to Marshall's Gap by mornin'. What's the best way to go?"

"Well. . ." Trixie put her tiny hand to her chin. She flew to his ear, and in the quietest of Pee-Wee whispers said, ". . .I'd say straight across Pristine Prairie'd be the safest. As long as Blackjack and his outlaw gang follow the pass out-uh the mountains, they'll end up on the north side-uh the range, and we can stay on the south side to avoid bein' seen. But we need to get goin' right away. It'll definitely take us till mornin' to get there since we ain't got no ride."

Cub picked up Marshall then reached in his shirt pocket for some coins he had left over from the Copper Junction Function. He threw them onto the table.

"What're those?" Trixie asked.

"I gotta pay for what we ate, don't I?"

"Not with those! We don't use that kinda tin down here. Somebody'll get wise to ya bein' a stranger, and we sure don't need no nosey parkers followin' us. I'll take care-uh payin'. I'm kind-uh down to the blanket*15, but I know there's still a few Pee-Wee pennies tucked away in my gun belt; they'll cover what we et." She flew to the bar and paid the bartender while Cub nonchalantly put his coins back in his pocket and slipped outside.

"Psst. Hey Cub." Night Crawler looked back at a horse tied to the hitching post. "Take Shiner, I'll be fine on foot. I'll just pick her up in the mornin'."

Cub took the reins Night Crawler handed him and thought, I ain't never been so glad to see a horse. "Thanks Night Crawler. You're a real help." Shiner let out a whinny. "And you too Shiner."

Trixie flew over the saloon doors, and she and Cub introduced themselves to Shiner. They loved the dark blue-purple-yellow patch of color around one of her eyes. "I guess that's how ya got the name Shiner, huh?"

"Nope," Night Crawler said. "She got her name 'cause the faster she runs, the shinier she gets, and that dimly lights up the path for me on a dark night. I already done told her to take y'all to Marshall's Gap. She knows the way; ya won't hardly have to guide her. She's a good ol' gal, and she ain't no scrub*16." Night Crawler patted Shiner's nose. "And don't hard-run her just to see her shine." Night Crawler turned and vanished into the eastern darkness.

Cub nearly did the splits with one foot on the ground and one in a stirrup. Without missing a beat he hopped up into the saddle, and Trixie flew to his shoulder. They let Shiner trot along on the path most familiar to her, the one that would take them to Marshall's Gap. They even caught some shut-eye along the way. When the light of day began seeping through the darkness, their eyes opened, and they were sitting in front of Colton's General Store. They tied Shiner's reins to a hitching post and went inside.

Cub could not wait to see his friends and find out all about Bristol. He knew right where to look. There at the candy counter stood Nash. Buck hovered just above his head. "Howdy," Cub said.

Nash whirled around. "You're here!" The Bristol Posse dished out hugs galore. "Ya do realize ya got Marshall on backwards. . ."

"Hobble your lip*17 Nash!" Cub switched to a whisper as he looked around to see how many other people were in the store. "He don't want nobody to know we got him, or we'll be hornswoggled*18 for shore."

Nash whispered back, "Oh yeah. Sorry Marshall."

Marshall wiggled to let Nash know he had heard.

"So tell us what's goin' on with Bristol. Did ya actually see him?"

Cub looked at Nash. He could see that Nash was skiddish from the night's adventures and could not blame him.

"Didn't actually see 'im, but we heard 'im loud and clear, still puttin' up a fuss 'bout bein' tied to that palameetah." Everyone snickered. "And ya wouldn't believe what a jabber jowler looks like, or how it goes 'bout eatin' a mountain lion!"

Cub could sense Nash was catching on to how loud he was talking when Nash whispered, "How about we go someplace where we can talk without bein' heard?"

Cub nodded. "Sounds good. . .Buck, Trixie, lead the way." They followed the Pee-Wees out of Colton's back door and continued up into the pines that lined Iron Ridge.

"This looks like a good place to rest for a while and get caught up." Nash plopped down on the ground.

Cub took Marshall off his back and turned him around, propping him up on his binder so he could join the conversation. Marshall took in a big gulp of air. "Ahhhh, nothing like fresh air after smelling Cub's sweaty back all night long."

Cub came right back with, "Ain't nothin' compared to your steamy snorin' that made my shirt soggy."

Smiles broke out on every face.

"OK," Nash said. "Let's get to the main focus here. . .Bristol. They're takin' 'im to some place called Pie Hole, but we cut over here 'cause Night Crawler said you'd be here."

Cub's heart sank. "Pie Hole? I saw that on the map. It's clear down southwest-uh here. How long ya think he's got 'fore they decide to make him talk and tell 'em where Marshall is? Ya know that's what. . .I mean, who. . .they're after."

Nash's eyes widened. "From what I heard, it ain't just Marshall they're after."

Cub's fear escalated. "They're lookin' for me, The Carrier, too, ain't they? And they're gonna offer Bristol a fair shake to get him to come clean on our where'bouts, then they'll rook*19 him. I just know it. That no 'count scallywag Blackjack's as savage as a meat axe. Ain't I right?"

Nash was backing himself into a corner. His tone changed. "Well, ya see, that's just it. When we ran into Night Crawler, he was busy trackin' Blackjack for his own reasons. When we told 'im we knew where Marshall was and that we knew The Carrier, he was really enthused 'bout helpin' us. After our story, he said he'd be glad to meet us at Skeeter Pond this evenin' so we'd have a ride. . .even the Pee-Wees. Plus he said he could lead us to Pie Hole in a snap."

Cub exploded. "You trusted a stranger named Night Crawler with the information that ya know The Carrier, and that we have Marshall? Are ya plum weak north-uh your ears? You gotta be some special kind-uh stupid! I swear, if'n your brain was dynamite, ya wouldn't have 'nough to blow your nose!"

Nash fired back, "Well you showed up where he told ya to, didn't ya? So you must-uh trusted him too. I thought he seemed like a good guy. And I figured if'n he was trackin' Blackjack, he was on our side and we could use all the help we could get!"

Cub jumped to his feet. "Good guy or not, that don't mean nothin'!"

Nash stood up and got right in Cub's face. "Whadda ya mean, nothin'? Besides, it was your biggety idea to split up and try to find Bristol, and we did." Nash took a couple of steps back. "I know what's ailin' you. We found Bristol and you didn't. Now you're just jealous." Nash marched around mocking Cub. "Oh look at me. I'm the SO important Carrier, and I found Bristol, not my friends, it was all me. 'Cause if'n I wasn't The Carrier we wouldn't even be here. It was me for shore who found Bristol!"

"Don't make fun-uh me!" Cub, now madder than an old wet hen, got a running start and pushed Nash to the ground. Cub landed with a thud on Nash's chest, pinning his shoulders down, giving him a tongue lashing*20, the likes of which Nash had never heard.

Nash clawed at Cub's hands. "Get your muck forks*21 off-uh me!"

"Night Crawler could be trackin' Blackjack to rob him for money he owes him, or to get into a shootin' match, or. . .or. . .and now we're in the mix!" Cub unpinned Nash's left shoulder and cold-cocked him smack-dab in the eye.

Buck and Trixie flew in with their adrenaline pumping and pulled Cub's head up by the hair. "What're ya doin'? Cub! Stop!"

"Ouch!" Cub swatted above his head. "Let go-uh me, ya crazy Pee-Wees!" He jumped up and tried to box Buck and Trixie, but they darted faster than Cub was swinging.

Trixie landed on a nearby stump, "Cub, stop it! There ain't no need to get your feathers so ruffled. We've known Night Crawler for decades. He's NOT a villain, he's a bounty hunter." She removed her cowgirl hat and attempted to straighten her hair.

Cub's arms stopped in mid air. "What?"

Nash sat up and spoke. "Yeah. Did ya hear that? A bounty hunter." He stood, got back in Cub's face again, and stuck his tongue out at Cub. Then he turned his back and walked away, holding his eye.

Cub's arms went limp at his sides and his face drooped. He felt like a real loser for giving his best friend a black eye. He ran to catch up to Nash. "Nash. . .buddy. . .I'm so sorry."

Nash pushed him away, his back still turned.

Cub was in a panic. "I'm so skeered. And I'm worried 'bout Marshall, and. . ." His lower lip started to quiver. ". . .I want my ma!" He collapsed on the ground and bawled.

Marshall wobble-walked himself over to Cub and nestled against him like a faithful dog. He gestured with a wink and a nod toward the others. Buck and Trixie flew right to Cub and began wiping his tears with their tiny shirts. Nash, on the other hand, mumbled, "I'd rather kiss a blunderpoke on the lips than act like I care 'bout my supposedly best friend."

Marshall looked up at Nash. "Come on. Cub will forgive you if you will forgive him." He turned and raised his voice a little so he could be heard over Cub's sobs. "Right Cub?"

Cub nodded.

"He needs us—all of us—but especially his best friend."

Nash took a deep breath and turned his head just enough to look down at Cub. Cub peeked over his arms, then opened them to Nash. Nash gave in. He turned, knelt, and hugged his best buddy. No words were exchanged, nor were any necessary. Everyone could see that silent apologies had been made and the friendship rekindled.

The amount of stress on Cub was far more than any ten-year-old could possibly endure without a few breakdowns now and then. "I'm skeered guys, just plain skeered. I wish I'd never followed that zoonin' spark*22 I blew from the lantern. I want my ma and pa. I wanna go home."

Nash sat down beside Cub and put an arm around his shoulder, but the sobs got louder, even as his friends continued to encourage him for several minutes. He gave Cub a friendly squeeze. "It's gonna be OK. You made us the Bristol Posse, and that's the best idea ya ever had. I'm sorry I made fun-uh ya. Ya still are, and always will be, my best friend."

Nash's words meant the world to Cub. His crying diminished. "Thanks guys, for not desertin' me. I don't know what I'd do without y'all." He made certain he looked each one in the eye. After wiping his nose on his sleeve, his demeanor changed, and he resumed his role as their fearless leader. "Let's get back into town and grab some more to eat and drink, and any other supplies we might need. We gotta have strength to make certain we're at Skeeter Pond by dark to meet Night Crawler."

Marshall spoke up. "Cub, put me inside that big hollow tree over there and pick me up on your way back from town. That way you will not have to worry about anyone finding me."

Cub was reluctant, but he knew Marshall was right. So he agreed to the plan. "OK, in ya go. And don't snore 'cause it'll give ya away." Marshall blushed, and Cub grinned. He tossed some leaves atop Marshall to try and hide him even better. Marshall blew the leaves from his face, smiled, winked at Cub, then hunkered back down under the leaves to wait for the Bristol Posse to return. As Cub walked away he kept the hollow tree in his view until he had made his way over the crest of Iron Ridge and his leather-bound friend's hideout could no longer be seen.

Cub let the others get a few steps ahead as he slowed and thought, Why me? Why'd SUL have to pick me? His insides warmed like honey on hot apple pie when SUL spoke to him inwardly.

"Because the original Carrier turned sour, and I took the honor away from him. I need someone who is not consumed by pride. Someone who believes in Good. Someone who cares about others more than himself. And most of all, someone who possesses the gumption to hang on through thick and thin for the sake of Good. I decided that is you."

Cub stood up a little bit taller and straighter and ran to Nash's side. He socked Nash in the arm. "You're the best friend for me, too. Thanks Nash."

# Chapter 14

## Let's Ride

With their bellies—and pockets—full of snacks, the Bristol Posse ducked out the back of Colton's General Store and climbed up onto Iron Ridge. Cub could not have been happier to see Marshall still safely tucked away in the hollow tree.

Marshall did a bookly kind of stretch. "How about putting me on your back, Cub, so we can get going. I am ready to meet Night Crawler if you are." Up and onto Cub's back went Marshall in his pack, this time face-out. Timing it perfectly with the disappearance of daylight, the Bristol Posse reached Skeeter Pond, and Night Crawler showed up only moments later.

Cub could not believe who was with the bounty hunter. "Pancake! How've ya been buddy?" Cub and the others sped to greet the blunderpoke, who reared with excitement and came down in the midst of hugs.

"I thought ya might like to see a familiar face," Night Crawler said.

"Ya mean ya went all the way back to Bristol's cabin to get Pancake? And he was all safe and everything?"

"You bet. You guys are quite the posse. Bristol should be proud." Night Crawler's smile said it all.

"It's great that ya showed up like ya said ya would." Cub looked down, a little embarrassed, and pretended to be interested in a small stone he was moving around with the toe of his boot. He lowered his voice. "'Cause it sure is skeery when ya ain't around. I wish ya could travel in the daytime with us."

Night Crawler's large hand nearly swallowed Cub's head. "Nash here's told me you're quite the leader. I think it's purdy amazin' what you guys've already been through and survived. And Shiner sure don't seem to mind bein' with y'all. I tell ya what, I wouldn't want a bunch-uh adults for my posse, no sir-ree. They tend to muddy up every adventure with logic and details. And to think ya got the two best rootin-tootinest Pee-Wee Flyers in all-uh the Lower West on your side. . .heck, havin' them around's like havin' magic in your back pocket. And Pancake'll be able to carry both you and Nash. And Buck and Trixie can ride on his head." He mussed up Cub's hair.

Shiner stepped closer to Pancake and started to nibble on his tail. It was evident that Pancake did not much care for that; at his harsh sound, Night Crawler jumped in. "All right ya two flea bags, settle down." Shiner whinnied. Cub thought for certain she was actually laughing.

"But what 'bout Marshall?" Cub spoke up. "If'n I pull some sap-headed move, he could end up in the wrong hands."

"Ol' Marshall can take care-uh hisself, along with the rest-uh y'all. He holds the map, remember? And as long as ya got Marshall and that map, ya got the plan. Marshall knows that, and he ain't 'bout to allow hisself to be put in a position where y'all could lose everything." Night Crawler squished a wink. "Now wait right here."

Everyone watched as Night Crawler took hold of Shiner's harness and guided her into the water of Skeeter Pond. When the horse and rider reached the middle of the pond, they sank, like they were in quicksand. Shiner's light grew dimmer and dimmer until it disappeared completely as they went deeper.

Several minutes passed. Nash said what the others must have been thinking. "Where are they? They've been under that water too long. What if'n they drowned? We shore don't need that on our plates." He was getting antsy and began pacing the shoreline. He could see nothing, so he stepped into the water and headed toward the middle of the pond for a better look. When he was in nearly waist deep, SPLASH! Water shot up twenty feet, soaking his top half to match the bottom.

Night Crawler and Shiner broke the surface, and Shiner glowed.

"Holy moly! That shine on her wet coat looks awesome!" Cub said.

Shiner whinnied and put her all into it, pulling and tugging as if she were stuck in a clay pit. "H'yah! Atta girl!" Night Crawler urged her on. "Keep on pullin'!"

Nash bolted out of the water, screaming, of course, and Cub rushed to the water's edge to help his friend.

"What's Shiner pullin'?" Buck asked.

Trixie flew out over the water so she could see. "She's pullin' a wagon up out-uh the water," she hollered back to Buck and the others on shore. Night Crawler guided Shiner until the wagon was on dry land. "I keep my wagon hid. Don't like a lot-uh folks knowin' I got one. I only bring it out on special occasions, and this here one's purdy special." He gave a chip-toothed smile and wiped the drips from his brows with his two stubby fingers. "There oughtta be enough beddin' in the back for everybody. We'll travel in the wagon at night, and ya can ride Pancake during the day. That'll give both Shiner and him a rest in between jaunts. Whadda ya say?"

Cub's nose crinkled. "But won't everything be all wet 'n soggy?"

"Nah. The wagon and all the stuff in it never gets wet. Must be some-uh SUL's magic—that's all I can figure." The same could not be said for Nash's condition; he stood there stewing in his own juice*23, all wamble-cropped*24 and dripping.

Marshall's logic was on tilt. "Where did you ever get a stay-dry wag. . .oh, never mind." Like Night Crawler, he supposed it was a SUL thing. "We need to get going."

Night Crawler reached into his saddle bag and, with a suppressed smile, tossed Nash a musty-smelling, raggedy old towel. The Bristol Posse loaded into the back of the wagon, made their beds, and gladly lay down to get some rest. Night Crawler tied Pancake to the wagon to walk alongside. The ride lasted throughout the night.

When the posse awakened, night had passed. But they were no longer in the back of the wagon; they were lying on soft patches of grass. Pancake was tied to an oversized shade tree and was enjoying grazing on the luscious young green sprouts. Night Crawler, Shiner, and the wagon were nowhere to be found.

"Where are we? Why'd Night Crawler leave us here? Why didn't he tell us where to go next?" Nash sputtered in his standard tone of panic. "Well. . .somebody talk! What're we gonna do now?"

Pancake made a blunderpoke noise, and Buck flew over to him. "Hey guys, over here. There's a note on Pancake's saddle. It's from Night Crawler." Buck pulled it out from under the reins and gave it to Cub. Cub unrolled the note and stared at it.

Trixie put her hands on her hips. "Ya gonna keep it a secret or tell the rest of us what it says?"

"Oh, sorry. It says he'll meet us at Gnarly Pond in the shank-uh the evenin'*25."

"Where in the heck's Gnarly Pond?" Again, Nash's uneasiness could be heard in his voice. "I don't remember seein' that on the map."

Cub took Marshall from the backpack and opened him up to the map. Marshall's pages wiggled when Cub's fingers tickled them.

"Now watch." Marshall squinted, grunted, and said, "We are where you see the light now shining on the map. The next lighted location will indicate where we want to go."

Cub pointed at a lighted place on the map. "Here's where we are, Either Way Springs."

The next light caught Nash's eye first. "Now what's lightin' up?"

Cub moved his finger to the newly lighted spot. "Gnarly Pond. Thanks Marshall. Let's get goin'."

No one paid any attention to Nash as he wandered away until he yelped, "What'r these welts all over me?" He was dancing around like a kettled bronc*26. "Make it stop! Make this crazy itchin' stop!"

Marshall laughed right out loud at Nash's misfortune. "By the looks of those bumps, I am betting Night Crawler brought us here by way of Bug Bite, through Rabbit Run Forest, to confuse any trackers."

"I don't give a yellow hammer*27 where he took us, I just want it to stop!"

"There is no need to worry, Nash. Those welts are from nothing more than miniscule creatures called 'chawin' mites', harmless little buggy pests. But I will tell you this: the welts will turn blue before they stop itching."

Nash was quick to speak his mind. "Well if'n that's the best answer ya got. . ."

Cub cut Nash off. "Holy moly! This is awful." He, too, was covered in welts. "Make this danged itchin' stop!"

Marshall and the Pee-Wees giggled at the sight of the two boys dancing around and scratching themselves willy-nilly, welting up with what looked like blue measles.

"Wheeeeee!" A couple of spry youngsters came zipping by on the river.

Cub spoke up. "Hey! Why don't we shoot the rapids? The water might cool off these bug bites." The two boys jumped and kicked; they looked like cancan girls on a bad night. Cub continued, talking between hops and scratches as the welts increased in number and turned darker and darker blue. "If'n I looked at the map right. . .dang it this itches. . .these springs flow right to Gnarly Pond, and that's where we need to get to 'fore dark."

Cub and Nash wasted no more time; they jumped into the water in hopes of finding some relief. Marshall began tumbling alongside the stream as the boys floated with the current. He shouted at the two Pee-Wees, "Buck, Trixie! I guess you will have to fly along so we can keep an eye on our boys."

Trixie pulled her cowgirl hat down tight and stomped through the air toward Marshall. "Fly my foot!" She crossed her arms. "I'll have ya know Buck and I done shot these rapids many a time!"

"Forgive me for suggesting that you might be unable to do so. By all means, shoot the rapids!"

They all heard a strange noise and turned to investigate; it was Pancake. He had taken Marshall's backpack in his mouth, and with a running leap, plunged into the river. When he hit the cold spring water he let out a howling sputter. The backpack dropped and began to float away.

"Hey! Wait for us!" The Pee-Wees rustled up the free-floating pack and dumped it onto Pancake's back. They tucked it under his harness, then they hung onto his ears for part of the ride.

Marshall tumbled and rolled his way alongside, humming and whistling tunes of all sorts. Pancake and the Pee-Wees caught up to the boys, who grabbed Pancake's tail for a free ride; the buoyant critter did not seem to mind. In fact, Marshall could have sworn he saw Pancake smile. Buck and Trixie left Pancake's ears and took to the backs of a couple of tallow-trout, which they rode a good part of the way, whooping and hollering like bronc busters.

It took most of the morning, but they finally came to a swirling rest in Gnarly Pond. Cub and Nash had stopped itching, and the blue bumps had turned to only a few fading spots. Pancake towed the boys from the water to the bank. Buck and Trixie brought up the rear leaving a trail of crackling, shorted-out sparkles. Marshall had kept pace with them the entire time and was not even short-winded.

Cub stopped dead in his tracks. "WOW! Look at that. The prairie, it's all kinds-uh colors."

"Ah, yes. Big Sky Prairie. Quite the sight, is it not?" Marshall proceeded to describe the magic of the grains. "Rather than the usual greens and golds of other. . ."

But Cub was too overwhelmed to listen. He gazed out over the rippling landscape that mimicked gentle waves on a lake. The waves changed colors as they rolled to the outer edges of the vast grassland where they washed onto the wildflowers, giving up their colors to the leaves and flower petals. Cub realized there was no breeze, yet the ripples rolled endlessly.

The boys and the Pee-Wees played together in the dry waves throughout most of the afternoon. Cub and Nash body-surfed. Buck went to the prairie's edge and picked a bouquet of the smallest wave-colored blooms for Trixie.

Cub said to Nash, "I'm wearin' down. I think I'll head back over with Marshall." He followed Buck, who was carrying the bouquet with a bouncing rhythm, trying to hold it steady as he flew.

Trixie laughed, "Why Buck, you look like a butterfly with the hiccups the way you're dartin' and jitterin' through the air." Buck handed her the flowers. "For me? Really?" Trixie grabbed the flowers, batted her eyes, and went to fly but the bouquet was too heavy for her. Buck did not make fun, instead he rushed to her side and helped her fly it to Pancake's saddle bag. Cub witnessed the show of affection between the two Pee-Wees and could not help but think about Little Sadie.

"I wish every day could be like this Marshall," Cub said. "Trustin' SUL every minute-uh every day ain't easy."

"It is not easy for me to keep trusting Him at certain times either. But whether times are easy, fun, hard, or just plain scary, I plan to help you as best I can." He sighed deeply as he wobbled himself into his backpack, which had dried in the sun.

With a yawn, Cub put his head down on Marshall's backpack and said, "Thanks Marshall." Then he napped off an on until the next event.

Marshall called to the group from his warm and comfortable backpack. "I do not mean to ruin the party, but we really should get back to the tasks at hand. Everyone, please come gather around."

Before he had a chance to say another word, Nash asked, "Hey Marshall, how much longer ya think till we find Bristol and get that sta. . .talac. . .ta. . .ite?"

"Well, that depends on how good a tracker Night Crawler is. I think it would be wise to craft a backup plan in case he gets into trouble."

Buck buzzed up just then. "Ya mean Night Crawler's in danger too?"

"No Buck, none I am aware of. But knowing what I do about the Lower West, it never hurts to have more than one option."

Buck wiped his brow. "Whew. That's a good note."

Nash blurted out, "Then I say we head to Pie Hole ourselves if'n Night Crawler don't show. He already said that's where they took Bristol. Ain't that right Buck?"

"Yup!" Buck fired his pistols into the air with excitement. Trixie dodged a couple of the whizzing bullets.

"Easy there Buck." Marshall seized the opportunity to take control of the conversation. "Yes, we will certainly go to Pie Hole ourselves if necessary, but what will our strategy be? You have me to think about; I can surely bring you trouble if I am discovered. And I have heard Pie Hole can, at times, be rougher even than Marshall's Gap. Most of the Pie Hole saloons are unfit for two ten-year-olds and a valuable book, not intending to sound as if I flatter myself, mind you. But I think you know what I mean. And the only reason I am going along with all of this is because it is on the way to Boulder Dache, where Cub needs to be."

"But Marshall, what if'n they got Bristol holed up in one of them bad saloons?"

"That, Nash, is why I am telling you we need to come up with an alternate plan, just in case Night Crawler does not show, or if SUL discloses to Cub when he needs to have the stalactite in place. Understood?" Cub and the others stiffened at Marshall's serious tone. "You mean SUL's gonna tell me straight up when I'm s'posed to. . ."

Nash interrupted—with good reason. "What the. . .? HELP!"

When Cub saw Nash get lassoed, he immediately tossed Marshall into the deep rolling waves of the prairie and started to run in the opposite direction. He heard Pancake squeal, then he felt himself being lassoed.

Buck and Trixie darted as fast as they could to find Marshall and half-fly, half-drag him to safety. Staying low and plundering through the colorful waves, they were finally able to fly Marshall up and over Gnarly Pond without being seen. They disappeared into Scrubby Woods.

"Drop me! Get back to the boys. You have to help them. Drop me. . .NOW!"

Buck and Trixie gave a heave, and Marshall went sailing one way, his backpack another. The Pee-Wees did not wait for him to land; they broke through the edge of the forest but could not see Cub or Nash. They could hear Pancake putting up a big figure of a fuss. Trixie said, "I'm glad I can't speak blunderpoke, 'cause I don't doubt Pancake's sayin' things that'd be harsh on our ears." They followed the noise, and just as the rest of the Bristol Posse came into view, the Pee-Wees found themselves abruptly trapped in a glass jar with the lid being screwed on. Following a hard thrust, the jar went sailing through the air and landed in the dirt. Buck and Trixie were knocked out on impact.

When the Pee-Wees came to, there was no sign of any bad guys. Buck moved a little and groaned. "Where is everybody? Ouch! My wings." He looked over his shoulder at the mangled appendages. "Trix, you OK?"

"Will be when my head stops spinnin'. . .I think." She shuddered from head to toe in an attempt to shake off the brain bubbles. "Ouch! My wings." She could not even lift them.

"Don't Trix. Don't even try. They're plum busted. Mine too, look." Trixie glanced and gasped at the awful sight. "We're gonna be needin' some serious help."

Trixie stumbled to the other side of the jar and looked through the glass. "Buck, c'mere."

Buck staggered over to her. He shouted, "THEY CUT THEIR HEADS OFF! What're we gonna do?" He leaned against the glass looking like he was ready to air the paunch*28.

Trixie slapped the back of his head, knocking his hat off. "What's the matter with ya? Ya wearin' a ten-dollar Stetson on your five-cent noggin? Their heads ain't been cut off." Buck picked up his hat and rubbed the knot on his head. Trixie crossed her arms and finished. "Cub, Nash, and Pancake have been buried up to their necks in the sand."

Buck took a better look. "And that's s'posed to be comfortin' how?"

"Oh, just never mind. Start runnin' Buck."

He looked at her like she was out-and-out lunk-headed. "To where? You're as crazy as popcorn on a hot stove. We're in a jar."

Trixie gave a frustrated sigh. "Just start runnin' with me so's the jar'll roll. We need to get in front-uh Cub to find out what to do." Her exaggerated movements added drama to her demeanor. Then Buck caught on to Trixie's idea. He joined her in making tracks on the slippery glass, and together they managed to get the jar rolling.

Trixie's eyes popped. "Whoa! Are those. . .?"

"Oh no. Syrup fleas. Musta covered the guys' heads in sweetdip after they buried 'em."

"I'll bet you're right, Buck. That's the only thing them nasty bugs's drawn to. What're we gonna do?"

"Keep runnin'. Better yet, run faster! We'll run over as many as we can and smash 'em right into the dirt." They stepped up the pace.

"It's workin'. Keep goin'!" Trixie kept at it for only another minute or so. "The air's. . .gettin' mighty. . .thin. . .in. . .this here jar." She collapsed.

Buck thought, What'll I do? Should I help my Pee-Wee sweetheart or kill more syrup fleas to help our friends? Tough as the decision was, he kept running as hard as he could to obliterate the approaching bugs. Poor limp Trixie went tumbling bustle-over-bread-basket, time and again.

"Aaaaaaa!" Buck hollered.

His shout roused Trixie, "Buck, look out!"

They watched a large hand wrap around the jar and felt themselves being hoisted into the air. They landed atop one another on the bottom of the jar. Then everything went dark.

"Aaaaaaa!" Cub and Nash screamed in unison—Pancake squealed an octave higher—when flames shot across the ground right in front of their heads, crisping the buggy hoard.

"Get on out-uh here ya lousy syrup fleas."

Cub belted, "Night Crawler, that you?"

"Yup. Hang on fellas. Need to blast the last ones."

Cub heard the fire race behind him, followed by the shrieks of the syrup fleas as they were being toasted.

Nash grunted and squealed.

"Don't make any more noise! Ya tryin' to give us away?" Night Crawler moved around where the boys could see him. He saw a few syrup fleas he had missed. He had a torch in one hand and a flask in the other. He took a swig from the flask then spit it on the flame. Fire shot out right where he aimed, causing the last of the syrup fleas to go up in smoke. He stood looking down at the pathetic posse buried up to their necks. "How'd ya ever get yourselves into this?"

"I think it was Blackjack's outlaw gang, but I didn't see Blackjack anywhere," Cub said.

"He was prob'ly layin' back, out-uh sight, thinkin' ya wouldn't recognize his gang members. They can't be too far away. How long ya think ya been here?"

Before Cub could answer, Night Crawler held up his hand to quiet Cub. They all heard a barely audible sound, like tapping on glass. Night Crawler remembered Buck and Trixie in the jar he had placed in the hole of a nearby log. When he got to them, they were gasping for air. He opened the lid and shook them out, expecting them to fly, but they dropped straight to the ground.

"Aw, cow chips!" Night Crawler said under his breath. "I'm so sorry little fellers." He carefully picked up the Pee-Wees and placed one under each of the points of his flannel shirt collar. "I had no idea your wings was broke. That stinkin' tin horn lot. They ain't fit to be called vermin. If'n they was here, I'd beat every one of 'em till they'd bite the ground*29, and I'd enjoy doin' it. How they could be so twistical*30 is more'n I can. . ."

Buck said, "Night Crawler! Stop your yammerin'. Ya made your point." He took a couple more deep breaths. "'Ceptin' our wings, we're all right, mostly, and we know ya didn't mean us no harm. We're just glad you're here."

Night Crawler closed his eyes, lowered his head, and took a deep breath. Buck hung his head; he must have recognized that Night Crawler had taken advantage of the moment to let off some built-up steam.

Cub picked up where Night Crawler had left him a few minutes before. "Now let's see. . .we got here, played in the prairie waves, then we stopped and was makin' a backup plan with Marshall. . .oh no! Marshall. Where is he?"

Trixie peeked out and clunked her head with the heel of her hand to loosen the sawdust. "Marshall's fine. He had us drop him over by Scrubby Woods."

Buck emerged and added, "Figured we could pick him up on the way to Pie Hole."

Night Crawler scolded them in a whisper. "All-uh ya keep quiet; don't be givin' things away." He looked down at Cub and Nash. "And both-uh ya, stop your wigglin'. You'll only make the sand tighter. Take a lesson from Pancake; he ain't movin' around."

"'Course he ain't movin'," Nash said, "They pistol whipped 'im with their rifle butts till he wasn't movin', then they buried 'im. And worst of all, they buried us first and made us watch at gun point."

Cub became nauseated at Nash's words.

Night Crawler bent over to pet Pancake on the nose. "I wondered just how they got ya buried, big feller. In addition to your size, you're a feisty one." Pancake barely whimpered, but his eyes opened and met with Night Crawler's for a second before they fell back shut. "Well, that there's 'nough to lemme know you're gonna pull through." Night Crawler crafted a small rig from sticks and rope and yanked the boys from the claustrophobic pits. They made an unrehearsed dramatic collapse onto the ground. Night Crawler patted Pancake between his ears, and the animal winced at his touch. "I guess ya do have a gash or two. . .or three. . .or wow, ya done got a lot-uh gashes on your head, don't ya boy?"

Pancake made a pathetic noise.

Still harnessed, Shiner let out a loud whinny. Night Crawler went to the wagon and unhitched her. She trotted straight over to Pancake and licked his wounds.

From the back of the wagon Night Crawler pulled a box with a big reddish orange plus-sign painted on it. He gathered the necessary items from it, added some soothing cream, and bandaged up Pancake's head wounds. Then he constructed another rig like he had for the boys, only much larger, and hooked it to Shiner. With a little help from Night Crawler, Shiner pulled her blunderpoke buddy free of the grasping sand.

"How'd ya know we was in trouble?" Nash asked.

"I got my sources." Night Crawler did not even look at Nash. No one questioned him any further.

The event had taken them to the edge of nightfall. It had been a rare occasion for Night Crawler to be visible during the daylight hours. Cub knew he was not keen on being seen.

"Don't we need to get goin' since ya can only travel at night?" Cub asked.

"No real big hurry. Pie Hole ain't that far off."

"Don't forget we gotta pick up Marshall on the way." Tears began to fill Cub's eyes.

"He'll be just fine. I ain't forgot 'bout him. Buck and Trixie here'll take us right to him. Ain't that right Pee-Wees?" Miniature nods made for the answer. Night Crawler continued. "OK then. Everybody in the wagon. Pancake, you first; you're lookin' a mite wobbly, so ya don't need to be walkin' just yet. You get some rest. And 'fore any-uh ya's ask, the answer's yes, there's room 'nough for Pancake and y'all."

Buck and Trixie snuggled in for the ride, still under Night Crawler's collar. He could hear their tattered wings trying to buzz. "We'll take a look at them busted wings and pick up somethin' to patch 'em up with soon as we get to Pie Hole."

Pancake managed to get himself up inside the wagon, though most of him hung over the sides and back. Cub and Nash curled up on top of him.

Night Crawler shook Shiner's reins and whispered, "Let's ride."

"Let's go find Marshall," Cub said through a yawn as sleep overtook his eyes.

# Chapter 15

## Scattered n' Tattered

Shiner pulled Night Crawler and the rest of the Bristol posse to Scrubby Woods in no time. The Pee-Wees guided Night Crawler to the place where they had dropped Marshall. Trixie pointed, "We chucked him that way. And let me tell ya somethin', he ain't the lightest book around, so he shouldn't be too far."

Night Crawler whispered. "Cub, Nash, get up. We're gonna start a search for Marshall. Accordin' to the Pee-Wees, he can't be far." The boys rubbed their eyes and hopped right up. Night Crawler lent a helping hand to get them down off the top of Pancake, then he took Buck and Trixie out from under his collar and gingerly placed them in a tiny sleeping bag he made from his handkerchief. The Pee-Wees were snoring before he tucked the handkerchief into one of the pouches hanging from Shiner's saddle. "They should be fine in there. Let's go."

The boys stayed close to Night Crawler, all shout-whispering as loud as they could, calling for their friend. They were about to change directions when they heard, "Ohvv. . .ovbberr hhheere f-f-f-fellaaathz." Though the words were garbled and the voice faint, Cub knew it was Marshall. He grabbed Nash, and they took off.

"Watch out for holes boys." Night Crawler's intentions were good, but the warning was a little late. Down went Cub.

Grrrrrrrrrrr whraaow! A feisty animal snapped its pointed canines at Cub's feet.

"Help me guys! It's after me! I must-uh fallen in its den. Help!"

Nash screamed like a girl.

Night Crawler took a running start and hit the dirt on his belly like he was sliding into second base. He latched onto Cub's hands and wrists and pulled his hardest to get Cub out. Nash slid on his feet and took hold of Night Crawler's ankles to help pull, but instead of helping, he pulled Night Crawler's boots off! Then he grabbed Night Crawler's socks and off they came!

"Help! Help! It's got my pants leg! Help!" Cub kicked as hard as he could, his only accomplishment being to further aggravate the burrowing beast.

Night Crawler kept playing tug-of-war with Cub and the enraged mammal, cursing to himself about not possessing enough strength to pull Cub to safety. But he hung on. Nash grabbed Night Crawler's bare ankles, dug his heels into the dirt, and gave a hard yank. Cub broke free and landed on top of Night Crawler, and Nash went tumbling.

Night Crawler unceremoniously tossed Cub off into the dirt, stood, and yanked a sawed-off shotgun from his leg strap. Through clenched teeth he grunted, "I'll get ya, ya ugly good-for-nothin' varmint." He stuck the gun straight down into the animal's den. "Ya done made me mad 'nough to swaller a horned-toad backwards." He ripped off one loud shot. Cub heard the creature yelp, followed by complete silence. Night Crawler put his ear to the den and listened for any breathing. "Must be dead then." He reached into the hole and pulled out a good-sized pelt. The boys' eyes popped at the sight dangling from Night Crawler's grip. He shook the dead animal and talked to it. "Danged addle-headed badgerines. Why d'ya have to be so cotton pickin' mean? You nasty critters pucker me right down to my drawers." He hurled the lifeless clump of fur through the air, and said, "I hope ya become an instant buzzard buffet." The sound of squawking rushed in from the distance.

Nash said, "I didn't know buzzards flew at night."

"Down here in the Lower West we got inky buzzards, and they only feed after dark."

Cub was in good shape but not without a dusty face, muddied-up shirt, torn pants, and one missing mud pipe*31. He wasted no time searching for his literary friend. Something got his attention, and he went running. He came to a bunch of litter and squatted to take a closer look. "Marshall, is that you? Please tell me it ain't." He called out, "Nash. Night Crawler. I think I found Marshall."

Marshall could hardly come up with enough energy to answer. "Yeah..........mmiitssss mmmeeeee all rrriiiight."

Cub, looking at Marshall's cover, barely recognized his face; it was marred and dripping book oil. His pages were torn and scattered in shreds with the penned words running like blood. Lightheaded at seeing his friend all torn up, Cub reshaped Marshall's mouth and moved it back into place so he could talk. Cub asked, "Is that better?"

Marshall twitched his mouth from side to side then licked his lips. "I believe it is. Where is the rest of me?"

"You don't wanna know." Cub rubbed his small hand down Marshall's face to wipe away some of the book oil. He gently placed Marshall's binder down and started gathering up the pieces. The other two arrived on the hideous scene. Cub directed them to Marshall's cover.

Nash asked, "What in the Sam Hill happened?"

Marshall took a deep breath then spoke in a low voice, "It was that badgerine. They love their territory. The problem is, you do not always know when you are on their territory, but trust me, they will let you know."

"No set-to*32 there!" Night Crawler held up his stubby fingers and twiddled them while sporting a look of having been euchred*33. He cocked his head in the direction of the dead badgerine, and his expression changed to a smirk. "But revenge is sweet."

The sound of approaching hooves caused the hair to stand on the back of Cub's neck. The boys dived behind a tree, but Night Crawler turned to face the danger head on. He raised his sawed-off shotgun. His face reddened and he lowered his weapon when he recognized the visitors. "What're you two Pee-Wees doin' here?"

"We couldn't sleep with all that commotion, so we hoofed it over here on Shiner."

"I see that." Night Crawler smiled at their willingness to help even in their currently grounded state.

Cub popped out from behind the tree. "Don't look over there!" But he had spoken too late. Buck and Trixie were already looking at the scattered and tattered sight of Marshall. They hurled. . .Pee-Wee style.

Nash and Night Crawler joined Cub in picking up the pages and shreds. Cub felt so hopeless he tossed all the paper shreds he had collected, kicked a nearby tree, and cried. "We ain't never gonna get Marshall back together."

"Cub, remember what Bristol taught you?"

Cub perked up at SUL's inward voice. "Uh, no. Wait, yeah. Maybe. No. I can't lie."

"I admire your honesty. How about if I try to help you remember?"

"You'd do that for me?" Cub slid the heel of his hand up over his nose and sniffed.

"Who ya talkin' to over there?" Nash shouted.

"Shh! Keep it down. Nobody. . .just. . .talkin' to myself." Cub returned his immediate attention to SUL. "Helpin' me remember'd be great."

"What do you remember about the words, 'Be now dust'?"

"Holy moly! Ya mean that'll work on Marshall?"

"Is he a bad guy?"

Cub laughed at the idea. "No. And he ain't fully dead neither!" Before SUL could get another word in edgewise, Cub had put it all together. "If'n he's still alive, I can make him a whole book again."

SUL magically gathered the pieces Cub had tossed. "Now hold out your hands." Cub did, and SUL made the shreds and pages float through the air, back into Cub's hands.

Cub thanked SUL then raced to join the others, picking up what few pieces were in his path along the way. He smiled when he saw Marshall's backpack dangling from a low branch. When he reached the others, he shouted with excitement. "Drop 'em here. . .all the pieces and pages. Drop 'em into this pile." Cub tossed the backpack to the side and threw his paper pieces down. "SUL just reminded me what I can do to help." He stared at his friends, waiting for them to follow suit. "Well, go on. Do it." He motioned with exaggeration.

"What're ya talkin' 'bout?" Nash hung onto all the shreds he had gathered. "I ain't gonna throw 'em all down then have to pick 'em all back up again."

"Just put your paper shreds on this heap. Then gather any more ya can find and add 'em to the pile."

From her position between Shiner's ears, Trixie coaxed Nash and Night Crawler, "Yeehaw! I know what's goin' on. Do what Cub's sayin'."

Buck smiled at Trixie. "Well, I'll be hornswaggled." He hollered at Nash and Night Crawler, "Just do it!"

Cub was thrilled as Nash and Night Crawler dropped all of the shreds onto the pile by order of the Pee-Wees. When they had gathered all they could find, Cub placed Marshall's cover face-up on top of the small mound of shreds, and everyone looked at Cub, waiting for something great to happen.

Cub curled his lips in, took a deep breath, and held it for several seconds. He pointed at the paper stack. "Marshall, be now whole!"

Jaws dropped when a stream of glittering dust shot from Cub's fingertip and landed on Marshall. The cover began to rise into the air and somersault end over end. Cub kept his finger pointed at Marshall to keep him in the air. The shreds scattered on the ground. Buck and Trixie cheered when the pieces began to dart here and there, and the strips began to crawl like inch worms, all putting themselves back together. When edges made perfect matches, quick lines of fire created seamless joints. They all watched as Marshall's pages were made whole once again and arranged themselves in a nice, neat stack on the ground. They were even in perfect numerical order.

Marshall stopped somersaulting. He shouted, "Atta boy Cub! Now direct me to the pages with your finger and lay me down real gentle-like, and keep pointing. I'll encompass the pages and bind myself back together. I'll be good as new!"

Cub did just what Marshall advised while everyone continued to watch from the sidelines. Cub gasped as Marshall's cover opened wide. He watched the back of the cover slide under the pages and the face-cover close on the top page.

"Hold that point Cub!" Marshall wiggled a bit, grunted, chuckled, and gave a big wolf whistle when his wheels aligned and the strap buckled. "Now that's what I call gettin' in gear!"

Everyone cheered. Night Crawler attempted to quiet them but soon gave up. "I reckon it's gonna be up to SUL to make sure we ain't heard," he muttered.

Cub dropped his pointing hand and ran to Marshall, scooping him up in his arms and hugging him.

"Whoa there son, that's a little bit tight." Marshall grunted and laughed. Cub gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

Nash looked at his friend. "Cub, how'd ya ever think to do that?"

"Well, Nash ol' buddy, let's just say SUL's a big help."

"Is that who ya was talkin' to back there?"

Cub hung his head a moment, but he decided not to be embarrassed. He looked Nash in the eye and smiled. "Yep."

"How come I never hear His voice when He's talkin' to ya?"

"I can't explain it. All I know is, I hear from inside. Get it?"

"Maybe. But hey, if'n it works for ya, don't let me keep ya from hearin' 'im. 'Specially if'n He can help us outta things like this. I still can't believe He talks to kids and not just grownups."

Nash's expression changed. His face said it all. Cub could tell Nash had heard SUL's inward voice for the first time.

Night Crawler spoke up in a soft voice. "Sure hate to cut the celebration short, but we really gotta get to Pie Hole, and in a quiet kind-uh way."

Cub put Marshall in his backpack. He was glad to see Marshall looking better than ever, and it dawned on him that, in the flurry of being rescued, Marshall had forgotten himself enough to speak like a normal person instead of a fancy-schmancy book!

They all made ready for the remainder of the journey. The sky was still deep navy blue with only the silvery moonlight bouncing off a few passing clouds, leaving plenty of time to get to Pie Hole before daylight. The boys jumped on top of Pancake, who had slept through the entire thing. They snuggled between a couple of Pancake's fat rolls. Marshall snored in Cub's ear. Buck and Trixie climbed their way to their hiding places under Night Crawler's collar. Night Crawler guided Shiner and the wagon while the Bristol Posse got some shut-eye.

Cub and his friends traveled through the night and made a safe arrival in Pie Hole. . .almost.

# Chapter 16

## Pie Hole

"Ya rotten, whittled, saddle bum*34! Git out!"

BANG! BOOM! CRASH!

"And STAY out!"

Cub and Nash jolted awake. Cub opened his eyes in time to see a man, trailed by broken glass, go flailing through the air, over the wagon, and land face down in a fresh, steaming palameetah pile.

"YUCK!" Nash responded to the sloppy sounding splat.

Night Crawler made the tsk-tsk sound and shook his head. "I'll be danged. Dugger's gotta get hisself another new window." His face was plastered with a sarcastic grin. "That's a cryin' shame."

They watched the man get up and take off out of town, stumbling and trying to wipe his face on his sleeves as he ran. "What was that all about?" Nash asked Night Crawler.

"Just some-uh the usual ruckus that goes on in Pie Hole." Night Crawler pushed the brim of his hair case*35 down to hide his face.

"Who's Dugger?" Cub asked.

"The man we're here to meet and hopefully get some information from." Night Crawler tied Shiner to a hitching post. "Climb down off-uh there boys, and come with me. Leave Marshall where nobody can see him. You can tuck him in one-uh Pancake's fat rolls." He took Buck and Trixie out from under his collar and placed them in Shiner's saddle bag.

The boys climbed down and walked behind Night Crawler, close as high-noon shadows. They entered the establishment called "Dugger's Deals" and headed for the counter.

"Dag nab it! Cain't believe them hoodlums. Wish they'd stay over in Marshall's Gap where they oughter be."

"Good to see you too Dugger."

"Sorry Nighty."

The boys giggled at Night Crawler's nickname. Nash commented, "Ain't a nighty what my ma wears to bed?"

"Just you never mind boy." Night Crawler stomped his heavy boot in front of Nash's feet, only missing the boy's toes by a hair.

Nash snapped to attention. "Sorry sir." He made like he was zipping his lips with his fingers.

"That's more like it." Night Crawler turned his attention back to Dugger. "I need a few things, then I got some questions."

"Whatever ya need Nighty."

The boys wiped the smiles from their faces when Night Crawler gave them the stink eye.

Dugger leaned over the counter and continued, his voice low. "I got it all. . .supplies and information." He chuckled, then he backed up and hollered, "OK folks. Gonna close up for a smidgen. So git on out-uh here. All-uh ya's." He shooed the last couple of patrons from the store, closed the door, and pulled down the shades. Then he strode over to Night Crawler, apparently eager for the bounty hunter to start his business.

Night Crawler looked at Dugger and said, "Ya ain't real bright, are ya?" Dugger looked at Night Crawler with a blank expression. "How we gonna have any privacy with that busted window?"

Dugger turned, and everyone he had just made leave was now standing at the broken window, shade pulled aside, wide-eyed and intent on blatantly eavesdropping.

Night Crawler rolled his eyes and murmured, "Suck egg. Ain't got brain one."

Dugger sighed and grabbed some wood planks—odds and ends he had thrown on an overstock pile—and proceeded to nail them over the open window. The crowd dwindled with every bang of the hammer.

"There. That oughter do it." Dugger tossed the hammer down and sauntered behind the counter. "Now we can talk in private." He centered his attention on the two youngsters accompanying Night Crawler. "So innerduce me Nighty."

Night Crawler cleared his throat. "This here's Nash, and this one's Cub. Recognize either of 'em?"

Dugger puckered his mouth up and took a long bug-eyed look at the boys. "Cain't say as I do." He scratched his head; disgusting white flakes appeared from between his oily locks and floated to the floor. "I'd think I oughter know 'em, though, 'cause there ain't that many youngin's in the Lower West. They s'posed to be special somebodies?"

Cub held his breath waiting for Night Crawler's answer.

"Nah. They tell me they're just a couple-uh Bristol's pals."

"Uh-huh."

Cub could tell Dugger was not convinced.

"I reckon you'd be lookin' for ol' Blackjack. Am I right?"

Cub spoke up, wanting to be a part of the grownup conversation. "Kinda. We're actually lookin' for Bristol, and we think Blackjack might have him."

Night Crawler spoke, pushing Cub back, bumping him into Nash. "Now hang on. . .both-uh ya. First things first." He turned back to Dugger. "We need a new pair-uh mud pipes for Cub here, and I need a tin-uh Pee-Wee Mender."

Dugger had not taken his eyes off Cub, sizing him up. He said to the boy, "Fell in a badgerine hole, huh?"

Cub's eyes widened, and he jerked his head to Night Crawler then right back to Dugger. "Uh, yeah. I mean, yessir."

"Them dad-blamed varmints. Nothin' but a nuisance, I can tell ya that. We'll gitcha fixed right up sonny." Dugger tossed a small tin to Night Crawler. "Here's your Pee-Wee Mender. If'n ya got 'em with ya, why not take to fixin' 'em while I help Cub here?"

Night Crawler grumbled. "Not too crazy 'bout leavin' these here boys with a two-bit hustler like yourself. . ." He thought it over for a few seconds before continuing. ". . .but I guess I'll take the gamble." He looked directly at Nash, pointed his finger at him, and spoke with a stern tone, "Wait here. And don't do nothin' dunderheaded."

"Yessir." Nash nodded his respect.

Night Crawler left the store to tend to Buck and Trixie. When he was out of sight, Dugger disappeared with Cub into a back room.

"Now tell me boy, who are ya really?"

Cub hesitated. "Nobody. Just a friend-uh Bristol's." He watched Dugger's odd mannerisms.

Dugger pulled a pair of socks from a low shelf and handed them to Cub. "How'd a nice kid like you ever git hooked up with Night Crawler?"

Cub chewed the inside of his cheek and shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we just. . .hooked up, that's all."

Dugger pulled a pair of trousers from a high shelf. "Here. These look like they oughter fit ya."

Cub looked at the pants, frowning.

"Well go 'head, put 'em on," Dugger said.

Cub did.

Then Dugger snagged a set of red and black studded chaps as an added surprise. "Now put these over 'em." Dugger tossed them to Cub. "Go on. What're ya waitin' for? Buckle 'em on."

Again, Cub did as he was told, wondering how they were going to pay for all of this. "I ain't never had any real cowboy hair pants*36 'fore. How come you're bein' so nice?"

"'Cause that's the kind-uh gentleman I am." Dugger bowed and snorted a laugh.

Cub was still not too sure about how to take this crazy old coot, but he was nevertheless thrilled with the chaps.

Next, Dugger reached into a large basket. "Sit down there sonny, and hold your foot out." Cub put his right foot out, and Dugger slipped a boot on it. "Other foot," and Dugger put the other boot on Cub's outstretched left foot.

Cub marveled at the boots' exact fit. "Thank ya sir." He stuck his legs out in front of himself and admired his new mud pipes.

"Ya like 'em, do ya?"

"Ma never bought me red and blue boots 'fore, just plain brown ones. I like the star on the sides of 'em." Cub began fidgeting. He had a bad feeling about Dugger. He decided it was something about the man's buggy eyes, one of which strayed a little to the side when he stared at Cub. Cub's heart fluttered quicker when Dugger reached into his pocket. Cub, thinking Dugger was reaching for a gun, leapt to his feet and asked, "Can we go out front now?"

Dugger yanked his hand out of his pocket; there was a plug of chewing tobacco in it. "What's your hurry sonny? I'd just like to. . .chat. . .with ya. That all right, hmmmm?" He leaned close into Cub's face, his straying eye bulging even bigger, and emitted another unnerving laugh.

Before Cub could answer, a loud crash came from the front of the store. Cub knew this was his way out.

# Chapter 17

## Never a Dull Moment

Dugger chased after Cub to the front of the store. Night Crawler busted in and shouted, "Nash, I told ya not to do anything dunderheaded. What's this mess?"

Dugger's eyes met Nash's and shot daggers straight at him. "What in tarnation have ya done boy?" His face was crimson and he was shaking with anger.

Nash trembled. "I just wanted to see what was in them jars." He gave a sheepish grin. "And I guess we can get a good look now, huh?" He was standing in a puddle of slippery liquid filled with human fingers, toes, and eyeballs.

Cub was in a panic. He turned to face Dugger. "Who are you mister?"

Dugger turned his head at the speed of molasses and glared at Cub.

Nash stuttered, "I. . .I was just. . ."

Night Crawler was steaming. "You was just nothin'! Just you never mind. Now get back to the wagon while we clean this up."

Nash bent down. "I made the mess, so I can help..."

"NO! Get to the wagon. NOW!"

Nash took off, slipping and sliding.

Night Crawler scowled at Dugger. "And what took you so long to get Cub his new boots?" He swung his attention to Cub and asked, "Ya didn't answer any-uh Dugger's questions, did ya?"

"Just the ones 'bout the pants and stuff."

Night Crawler's head pivoted back toward Dugger. He snatched Dugger by the collar and pulled him in close; Dugger's breath made Night Crawler's eyes water, but the stench did not interfere with his current state of mind. He snarled and said, "You listen to me. I don't give a blunderpoke's button hole what ya think ya may know 'bout that boy." He gave a squint-eyed, severe side nod in Cub's direction without taking his eyes from Dugger. "Ya little, one-barrel-short of a double-barreled shotgun, lousy, piece-uh badgerine dip. YOU need to forget WE was ever here. Ya got that?" Dugger nodded. Night Crawler let loose Dugger's collar with an added shove and continued, "Now start spillin' your guts. I wanna know 'bout Blackjack and his boot-lickin' gang. And I know Bristol's with him. And I know you know, so don't lie or I'll be addin' some fingers and toes to those jars, if'n ya know what I mean."

Dugger dashed behind the counter. "Umm. . .OK. Uh. . .oh yeah, Blackjack. Yeah. He's got Bristol for shore. I done seen 'im with my own eyes."

Cub's heart skipped a beat. "So ya mean they're here?"

"Shut your bazoo Cub. Let me do the talkin' for now." Cub backed down.

"They. . .uh. . .they was here, but now they ain't no more. They's gone."

"Where was they 'fore they got here? And don't jerk me around Dugger, or you'll be buyin' more new windows." Night Crawler raised a backhand.

Dugger stammered, "Well, like. . .like always, um. . .Blackjack come in, ignored me, and his heavy footsteps shook the floorboards as he clomped to the cellar. 'Bout four hours later, his gang shows up. Luckily they didn't taunt me or tear too much up on their way down to the cellar this time. Now I never eavesdrop." Dugger paused.

Cub could tell Dugger was waiting for Night Crawler's approval, but Night Crawler only dropped his hand and rolled his eyes. Grunting through his gritted teeth, Night Crawler said, "Get on with it."

"All right then. When they all gathered in the cellar, all's I could hear was whoopin' and hollerin' like somebody'd done give 'em happy pills. Then—just by accident, mind ya—I overheard 'em braggin' to Blackjack 'bout catchin' two boys, one real special one by the name-uh Cub, 'long with a blunderpoke at Gnarly Pond. Blackjack asked 'em if they'd done detained 'em like he ordered 'em to. They said they had—buried 'em up to their necks, covered their heads with sweetdip, and left 'em for the syrup fleas to torment. Then Blackjack said he was real proud-uh his outlaws for gittin' the job done. Purdy soon they all come upstairs, got their supplies, and left."

Night Crawler asked, "Then they're headed back to Gnarly Pond, ain't they?"

"I might-uh heard 'em say that," Dugger gave a few exaggerated nods. "They finished up by sayin' the boys'd prob'ly be ready to sing by then and tell 'em the where'bouts-uh that talkin' book. So when ya showed up here with two boys that had sticky hair and mud-caked faces and innerduced one as Cub, I already knowed he was a important somebody." Dugger straightened up and spit tobacco juice, but all he did was slobber; it ran down his chin, so he slurped it back into his mouth, past his repulsive brown teeth and tongue.

Dugger flinched when Night Crawler raised his backhand again. "I oughta slap ya into next week. Ya let him get away when ya knew good n' well I been lookin' for Blackjack for a coon's age."

"How was I s'posed to know ya was gonna show up when ya did? Whadda I got here that they'd wanna stick around for? And furthermore, how ya reckon I was s'posed to hold Blackjack and his gang at bay? I'm one man with a half-loaded peacemaker."

"That makes three shots, don't it?"

"Yeah, but there was more'n three-uh 'em."

"And let me guess. . .they paid well too." Night Crawler let out a frustrated muffled yell.

Cub tugged on Night Crawler's pants leg and motioned for him to bend down. Then he whispered something in Night Crawler's ear.

Night Crawler returned his attention to Dugger, smiled a sideways smile, and said in an eerie, calm voice, "Did ya happen to hear any of 'em mention where they'd be takin' ol' Bristol?"

Dugger relaxed a bit. "Well, I guess they did mutter somethin' 'bout criss-crossin' and trickin' ya off their trail by takin' Bristol clear back over to Gopher Gut."

Cub's fear overtook him, and he blurted out, "What're we gonna do? When they find out we escaped, they're gonna be mad. It's me and Marshall they're after. Nobody else." He stopped dead. All the color drained from his face. His disbelief that he had let drive*37 all those facts left him catawamptiously*38 chawed up.

Night Crawler froze; his skin color was changing to an odd shade of light gray-green, like a wet plaster statue.

Dugger, on the other hand, broke into a devilish smile. "Marshall? You got Marshall here? THE Marshall Law? The book Marshall Law here in the Lower West? THE Marshall?" He came out from behind the counter and took a better look at Cub. "Then you must be The Carrier." He spun and looked Night Crawler right in the eye. "Am I right?"

"Clam up, ya ol' pod! We don't need the whole town knowin' who Cub is and that he has Marshall."

"So ya do have Marshall. My, oh, my. You boys has shore got yourselfs in a pickle." Dugger slapped his knee, wheezing in hysterical laughter. "Let's see," He pointed a crooked finger at Cub. "You're The Carrier and ya got Marshall Law in your possession. A few more-uh us knows that now, and ya got Blackjack and his outlaw gang hot on your tail. Heeee hee!" Not only was Dugger annoying, he was also becming a nuisance.

Night Crawler's tone of voice did not lend itself to friendliness. "I told ya to shut up." He pulled himself up to his full height, standing head and shoulders above Dugger. Dugger cowered. Night Crawler dropped his hot breath onto Dugger's face with his next words. "You let slip so much as a whisper 'bout The Carrier or Marshall to anybody, I'll be back to take care-uh ya personally. Ya hearin' me, ya sawed-off little runt?"

"But, but, but I'm your only bounty buddy, ain't I? I mean, you'll still give me my cut once ya get ol' Blackjack and turn 'im in, woncha? Hmmm? Purdy please?" Dugger sealed his words by fluttering his eyelashes and twisting from side to side like a dog-cheap saloon hussy.

Night Crawler set him straight. "I got bounty buddies in every town. Ya wouldn't be hard to replace."

Dugger's countenance changed in a hurry; he gave a little whimper.

"Thanks for the information, I think." Night Crawler reached in his pocket and pulled out a few bronze rounders, tossing them at Dugger to make his point.

Night Crawler turned to leave, and Dugger relaxed. But Night Crawler whirled back around and tended to one last bit of business.

THUD! Dugger looked up from the floor with one good eye and saw Night Crawler rubbing his fist, then he heard Night Crawler's unsympathetic voice. "Sorry 'bout that. I just couldn't help myself." Night Crawler picked up Cub and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of feed. "C'mon boy. We got work to do."

As hard as it was for Cub, he knew he dared not utter a single word.

Nash looked terrified. Cub climbed up onto the wagon, took a seat beside him, and asked, "Whadda ya think's up with all them eyeballs and stuff? That's just plain creepy."

Night Crawler answered as he prepared the wagon. "If'n us bounty hunters bring Dugger a piece-uh the wanted folks, Dugger pays good money in addition to the reward we get from the law." He stopped and looked off in the distance then shook his head. "But why that sick, addle-headed cheat keeps 'em in them jars is beyond me." He turned back to Cub and Nash. "He's one ol' bird who's always been a little bit loco, but he ain't never led me astray with his information. . .yet. . .so I keep usin' him when I can."

Cub and Nash shuddered.

Buck and Trixie flew out to greet them.

"Hey, your wings're fixed!" Cub was glad to take in some good news.

"They shore are, thanks to Night Crawler here." Night Crawler nodded and touched the brim of his hair case. Trixie continued. "We done some snoopin' 'round and found us all a place to bed down. C'mon."

Pee-Wee sparkles led the way. Cub rode up front with Night Crawler, and Nash stayed in the back with Pancake. Buck and Trixie made a sharp turn just before the end of town and showed the weary travelers to their room for the night. "Well, whadda ya think?"

"I think it's the perfect place to spend what's left-uh the night," Cub said.

One by one they climbed from the wagon and found a place in the abandoned livery to make their beds. There was plenty of left-over straw, so no one had to sleep on the dirt. Nash rolled off Pancake, right onto the biggest pile of straw in the stable, and Pancake rolled off the wagon next to Nash. Buck and Trixie stuck with Shiner, and Cub took Marshall over to a secluded corner where they could be together but hidden.

Night Crawler tucked everyone in. "Well boys. . ."

Trixie cleared her throat and stared at Night Crawler.

"Pardon me Trixie. . .boys and girls. I'm gonna catch a few winks right here 'fore I head out. Y'all oughta start for Gopher Gut at first light. It's a long way 'cross the land. You'll most likely reach the eastern edge-uh Skeeter Lake by dark. I'll pick ya up there when the moon shines."

Everyone was getting used to the routine, and most had no trouble catching some shut eye. The high-pitched raspy whistle of Buck's snoring brought a smile to Nash's face before he fell asleep. Pancake's sleep-blubbering and drooling dampened the haystack. Shiner curled just so; that way Night Crawler had a sleeping nook. Trixie's wings fluttered in her sleep; she was dreaming, possibly about chasing and riding equinarchs on Maycly. Marshall's gears turned back and forth in opposite directions with every breath he took in and let out.

But as tired as Cub was, he could not sleep. The thought of being The Carrier was weighing on him. I don't know how much longer I can run all over the place chasin' after Bristol and Blackjack. I gotta find that stalactite and be in the cave at the right time. If'n I ain't, then the whole thing'll be ruined. I don't wanna desert my friends, but I don't want 'em to get hurt neither, and I'm 'fraid there's more danger ahead than I even wanna think 'bout. But I gotta do it. . .I just gotta. That thought kept resounding in his head. He knew what he had to do.

# Chapter 18

## Tough Decision

Cub gave up on sleep altogether. "Marshall, wake up."

Marshall snore-gasped and blinked a few times. Golden dust cleared from his sleepy eyes. "What is it Cub? It is the middle of the night." He was back to his usual manner of speaking, his grammar once again impeccable.

"Shh. I know. I had to wait till Night Crawler took off 'fore I woke ya up. I got an idea."

"An idea. . .it must be good if you are awake at this time of night." Marshall had made Cub smile. "Well, let me hear it."

Cub squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sigh. "I think you and me oughta head on to Boulder Dache and let the others keep lookin' for Bristol. I promised myself and the others. . .and SUL. . .that if'n it come down to it, I'd do the right thing. And I believe this is the right thing."

"Cub, you are becoming a man all too soon, but I admire your grownup way of thinking. SUL will be proud of you because of this."

"That's just it, see. I keep askin' Him for help. I ask Him to let me know what to do for shore, but He won't talk to my innards." Cub hung his head and shrugged. "He's probably just busy with other things and don't have time for me right now."

"Hey, chin up." Marshall blew on Cub's face, and that brought a half smile. Marshall continued, "Sometimes when SUL knows you are going to make the right choices, He merely allows you to do it. That is a huge accomplishment."

"What is?"

"The fact that you not only trust SUL, but He now trusts you."

Cub accepted that answer, though he was not sure about all of it. He knew Marshall had a better handle on everything than he did. "I miss my pa, Marshall. But you'll do while we're apart." He held Marshall close.

Marshall's gears made a few extra turns, and they glowed to show some "fatherly" affection. He whispered, "You will need to let the others know." He made chewing motions with his mouth then spewed a dry piece of paper, followed by a scribbling stick*39. "Leave them a note."

Cub thought long and hard before he began writing, but he was satisfied with his letter when it was finished. He put the note on the straw pile then looked at his sleeping friends. With the backpack over his shoulders he and Marshall crept out of the old livery.

Marshall heard Cub sniffle.

The sun cut through the uneven slats of the stable walls, and straw dander floated thick in the rays. Nash woke when Buck tickled his nose with a piece of straw. "Ya little stinker. I'll getcha for that." Buck took off, and Nash chased after him, right into the corner stall where Cub and Marshall had bedded down the night before.

"They're gone!"

Trixie yawned and gave a Pee-Wee-sized stretch. "Who's gone?"

"Cub and Marshall. They ain't here."

Trixie shot straight up. "Have ya checked the entire livery?"

"No need to. They left us a note." Nash picked up the scribbled-on paper and stood there with it, looking off into the distance, not able to bring himself to read it.

Trixie flew over. "Here, give me that." She took the note from Nash and laid it on the ground. She pulled out her teeny reading glasses and, flying over every word, read it aloud:

"Dear Nash,

Me and Marshall are going on to Boulder Dache. I know you will do the right thing and keep looking for Bristol. We will meet again some day. You are my best friend, Nash, and best friends don't stay apart forever, at least I don't think they do. It's just that I got to find the singing stacalalcatite thing and get it in the socket by the right time, but nobody knows when that is. I can't stay no longer.

Stick close to Buck and Trixie. They will take good care of you. And always be on time to meet up with Night Crawler and Shiner. Please tell Shiner she is the best. And give Pancake a big rub on the nose for me.

It's kind of not much fun, but I got to be growed up and do what SUL asked me to. I hope you understand.

Your best darn friend,

Cub"

A few of Trixie's teardrops fell on the letter as she read. She took off her glasses, folded them and placed them in their case, then she put the case in a pocket of her skirt. She was speechless.

Nash kicked the dirt. "How can a 'best darn friend' just up and leave? I knew SUL didn't talk to kids. Cub's just doin' this to be a big shot."

Buck was cautious as he approached Nash. When he got to eye level he said, "Nash, there's times when there ain't no real good answer, but I can tell ya from my own personal experience, SUL's gonna take care-uh us. If'n He talks to Pee-Wees, then He shore as the dickens talks to kids. Ya got that?"

"I think all that SUL stuff's just a bunch-uh blunderpoke dip. If'n He was real He'd make sure Cub and me was never EVER separated." Frustration prompted him to slap the wall. Pancake jerked his head up.

Trixie started to fly in to make Nash feel better, as Pee-Wees instinctively do, but Buck held onto her wings. "The truth's always hard to hear, let alone accept, and Nash probably don't yet understand that at his age. Ya gotta let him learn on his own, Trix, just like we did."

"But why does Nash need to go through it? He's just a boy who's not even s'posed to be here. He didn't even know who or what Cub was, or that his best friend's prob'ly in deeper'n he can imagine. C'mon. Nash don't need somethin' else to worry his mind." She grabbed Buck and hugged him. With her face still buried in his chest, she said, "We already went through it and can help him avoid it." She blew her nose on Buck's shirttail.

Buck lifted her face to meet his. "And how much stronger are we for goin' through that rough time? I can't lie, Trix, it was the scariest, most lonesome experience I ever went through. Remember how I thought ya'd just up and left me?"

Trixie nodded. "But really we'd done got separated by that shoddy outlaw gang."

Buck continued, "That's right. I thought my heart was literally gonna break in two."

"And I didn't think I'd ever have 'nough tears to cry," Trixie said.

"And I shore as heck thought SUL wasn't even carin' 'bout me and you any longer. But he asked Bristol, who put his own life on the line, to rescue us and bring us back together. And that's why SUL made us Bristol's very own appointed Pee-Wees."

Trixie slowly drifted backwards, her head still hanging down. She blinked through her tears.

Buck went on with encouraging words. "We owe it to SUL to trust Him. We need to trust that He'll lead us, Nash included, to Bristol then put us all back together."

Trixie lifted her head, and their eyes met. "You're right Buck. We owe it to Nash to let him discover on his own that SUL's who He says He is."

Buck smiled and gave a sharp nod.

The Pee-Wees startled when Nash interrupted his pacing by kicking the floor and waving his hands violently in a fit as he talked to himself. "Why'd I ever follow Cub into this mess? If'n I ever get back home for supper again, it won't be too soon, no matter how much trouble I'm in. Once, just ONCE, I'd like to be important. Cub was the leader-uh our club, he's the leader-uh the Bristol Posse, and he's the one who gets to open Marshall and carry The Element." He picked up a big handful of straw and threw it as hard as he could (it went about two feet). He leaned against the wall, folded his arms, and sighed. Then his face lit up. "But now that Cub's gone, who's gonna be in charge and make sure we find Night Crawler every night? I guess that'd be me!"

Buck and Trixie hung in the air, trembling, sparkles dropping, their tiny faces filled with worry.

Nash spoke up, "I reckon we oughta get goin' if'n we're responsible for findin' Bristol. Forget Cub and Marshall; we don't need 'em anyway."

The Pee-Wees flew behind Nash as he walked up to Pancake. "I don't know why I'm pettin' your nose other'n Cub wanted me to. And no matter how much he's lettin' me down, I'll never let him down."

Pancake slimed Nash's face with a single lick.

Buck and Trixie darted behind Pancake's ears and gave each other a rootin'-tootin' handshake. Buck whispered to Trixie, "Sounds like Nash ain't quite as hard-hearted as he's makin' out to be." Trixie clasped her hands and nodded, a big grin covering her face.

Nash wiped Pancake's spit from his face then climbed on. "I ain't never steered a blunderpoke 'fore." Nash stared at the reins lying between Pancake's ears.

"Ah, there ain't nothin' to it for a cowboy like you." Buck elbowed Nash on the shoulder.

"A cowboy? I don't think that's me. I ain't nowhere near that tough. But Cub. . ." Nash stopped mid sentence.

"But Cub what?" Trixie asked.

"But Cub couldn't do it neither." Nash stuck his tongue out in the direction of Boulder Dache.

"Well then why don't you be somethin' Cub ain't? That'd make ya one-up on him, make ya different, important. Bein' a brave cowboy on a blunderpoke's just as important as bein' The Carrier. Ain't that right Trixie?"

"It shore is! Right now we need a cowboy who's willin' to find his friend. A cowboy who ain't afraid to travel from one corner-uh the Lower West to the other. Shoot, wasn't it you who added 'nough strength to get Cub outta that badgerine hole?"

"Yeah. It was me." Nash curled his arms making his muscles bulge.

Buck piped up, "See? You're startin' to build them cowboy muscles already. Now I don't know 'bout you, Trixie, but I shore wouldn't wanna tackle this trip without a real cowboy."

Trixie never missed a beat. "Huh-uh! I know where we're headin', and I know we need a big, strong, handsome. . ."

"All right. No need to. . .to, uh. . ." Buck was not coming up with the right words.

"To what, Buck? Make ya jealous 'cause Nash here's got bigger muscles'n you?" Trixie did a loop-d-loop around Nash's bicep then landed on top of it and gave it a Pee-Wee-sized squeeze. "Ooooo, I ain't never seen such a strong cowboy." She batted her eyes and buzzed her wings.

Buck gave her a look; she flew right to him.

"Don't cowboys have hats?" Nash asked.

"They do indeed. Wait right here and we'll be back in a jiffy." Trixie pulled Buck by the bandana, and they sped off. When they returned, they were carrying a rich dark brown ten-gallon with a black braided hatband and light tan brim. They landed it on Nash's head.

"How 'bout a pistol?" Nash asked.

"Well now, there's a few things ya don't need just yet, and a pistol is..."

"Why Buck, what're ya sayin'?" Trixie added the necessary drama and winked at Buck. "If'n our big, strong cowboy don't have a pistol, we could be in big trouble."

"You're right. But where we gonna find one?"

"I have my connections." Trixie gave a whistle. Out from behind the livery came the local hound dog carrying a pistol in her mouth. "Thanks, Sal ol' gal."

Buck closed his gaping maw*40 and quietly asked, trying not to move his lips, "Do I wanna know why Sal has a gun?"

"Not really." Trixie sealed her answer with a smug smile.

Sal stood on her hind legs with her front paws up on Pancake. Nash took the pistol and examined it.

Trixie took Buck aside and assured him it was a toy pistol she had found in the livery. She whispered to Buck, "It musta dropped down here when Copper Junction fell through. I was plannin' on playin' a joke on Cub with it, but things went a little sideways on me when we found out Cub'd left." She looked at Nash to make sure he was occupied with his pistol. "I don't know if'n I should tell ya this; ya might up and think I'm crazier'n a bedbug, but Sal was talkin' dog talk, and I swear I could understand everything she was sayin'."

Buck's head cocked and his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"I ain't lyin' Buck. It's the honest truth. I ain't never understood what a animal was sayin' 'fore. I guess it was just some kind-uh Lower West magic run amok for a short spell."

Buck smiled at her. "I don't think you're crazier'n a bedbug." He backed away a little bit. "But I would say you're at least as crazy as one." His joke backfired, and Trixie began to cry. Buck felt really bad. He hugged her and whispered, "There, there, Trix. I'm sorry. It was just a joke—a bad one, I guess. I didn't mean it. I believe ya."

"Really?"

"Really." Buck gave her a reaffirming kiss on the forehead.

Nash stuck his new pistol in his waistband. "WOW!" he rubbed his hand over the stock and did a couple of quick draws. "OK. Ready?"

"Ready as we'll ever be." The Pee-Wees settled in between Pancake's ears for the long ride to Gopher Gut. Nash gave a heavy sigh and thought, I shore do hope Cub's gonna be OK. We'll see each other again. . .I hope.

# Chapter 19

## "It Shore Is Dark in Here"

Cub and Marshall decided to take the long way, hoping to stay out of trouble. They cut around Cotton Waters and, by nightfall, had found the entrance to Looters Caverns at the northern edge of Scrubby Woods. Cub begged and coaxed until he persuaded Marshall to let him take a peek inside. At the entrance to the caverns, Cub took Marshall out of his backpack so he could talk to him face to face.

"Funny there'd be a burnin' torch like that," Cub said looking up at the worn handle that hung just above his head. "It'd sure be nice to use it to get back into the caverns, huh?" He reached up and took it from its holder.

Marshall pursed his leathery lips. "You might say that, but do not allow yourself to be lulled into a false sense of security. There are plenty of looters who make this a regular pit stop and hiding place. They stash their stolen goods in the cracks and crevices. There is a sort of looter's code amongst them: 'mind your own business, do not ask, do not tell, and never steal another looter's heist.' But being the inconsiderate, non compassionate roughnecks they are, I would not trust them, code or no code." Marshall saw Cub's eyes grow big; Cub was getting the point. "If the torch is missing when looters arrive to hide their spoils, they know to wait their turn, but most looters are impatient. There are some who will enter without the torch and stash their prizes by counting off steps or listening to the change of the sounds in the darkness. If you come across a looter and look him in the eye, you are as good as dead."

Cub leaned into the cave entrance to listen for other looters. "I don't hear nothin' or nobody Marshall. C'mon. Let's go in."

Marshall sighed. "This is against my better judgment, you know."

But Cub ignored Marshall's warning and stepped deeper into the caverns.

"Put me back into my backpack before we get going."

Cub returned the torch to its holder for a moment while he put Marshall back in the backpack and slid it over his shoulders. Again, he took down the torch.

"Now go easy boy," Marshall urged. "By the looks and sounds of things, we should be the only ones in here at present. But I am warning you, you will have to bring that torch back in a short matter of time or someone may decide to come looking for it and find us."

Cub's face wrinkled. He hem-hawed around in thought. He waved the torch from side to side and reached his arm as far as it would go into the darkness. "I guess we'll just have to go it without the torch then." He sighed and returned it to its holder.

"I think that is a wise choice. Besides, I can light the way. Put me on your front side, and I will provide a dim glow. But if we see or hear anyone. . .and I am referring to the faintest glimpse of shadows or noises. . .I will extinguish my light. So be prepared."

Cub did as Marshall suggested. He felt Marshall stiffen, and a dim glow appeared from Marshall's cover.

"I suppose we could make camp somewhere in here for the night then head toward Ten Gallon Town in the morning for some breakfast and supplies. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out how I let you talk me into this."

"Marshall, you're just the best pa. . .I mean, friend. . .any kid could ask for."

Marshall glowed a notch brighter for a brief moment.

With Marshall tight in his grasp, Cub inched deeper into the caverns, leaving every ounce of moonlight behind. When they had gone a fair distance, Cub looked behind to make sure his paranoia was nothing more than false alarms. "It shore is dark in here. I'm glad ya can make that light like ya do." Cub journeyed onward. "How much farther ya think we oughta go?"

"If you want me to glow like a night light all night long, I suggest we go quite far so no one knows we are here. I have heard tales about these winding caverns that would make your skin crawl."

Cub moved toward the stone wall to his right. "Some-uh these dug-out spots'd make great sleepin' places." He did a slow sweep from left to right using Marshall's pale light to check one out. "But from the looks-uh things, seems this one's already done been claimed." He backed up and out of the dark indentation in the wall. "I shore don't wanna make no trouble."

"Good idea Cub. Just keep moving and let me shine while you walk."

Cub felt Marshall's gears turning. "Whadda ya doin'?"

"I am referring to the map inside myself in order to gather a detailed account of what we are coming up against. The footprint of the inside of the caverns is quite faint, but that, along with what I can recall from the locals' conversations, should lead us to where we need to be in order to get some rest."

"When did ya hear stuff from the locals?"

"It was before SUL sent Bristol to retrieve me from Marshall's Gap."

"But wasn't ya sleepin' all that time?" Cub asked.

"Not until Bristol's hands touched me. Now no more interruptions. I need to concentrate."

Cub felt Marshall's gears slow, then come to a halt. "If we are currently where I believe us to be, we should come upon a sharp bend to the right not far from here. Be certain we stay on the path from here on, and watch closely; the path is narrow and only gets narrower. We must reach the bottom of the cavern. I am uncertain how deep the cavern drops, but I am certain it is deep enough that you do not want to fall off the edge of the path and find out first hand!"

Cub took Marshall at his word without question. Marshall's gears turned again, and Cub's pace slowed as he kept following the path. "Looks like we're at the bend."

"Stop!"

Cub froze in his tracks.

"Not more than a few feet ahead should be a very steep drop-off. Inch your way toward the edge. If you look hard enough, you will find some stairs cut into the rock. They will lead us to the bottom. The looters do not tend to use that area, at least that is the word from the locals."

Even with Marshall's dim light, Cub could not see the edge. Sand and gravel were grinding under Cub's sliding feet as he felt for the drop-off. "There's the edge. It's gotta be. There ain't nothin' under my toes."

"Good going Cub! Now lean forward ever so carefully and shine my light to find the stairs. I will shine it brighter, but I cannot keep it that bright for more than a few seconds."

Cub heard Marshall take in a deep breath and hold it. Cub leaned with caution as he listened to water droplets splatting out of rhythm far beneath them, their echoes puncturing the velvety blackness. A musty smell of mold and mildew came and went. "I can't believe it; we're right at the top-uh the staircase!"

Marshall exhaled. "Indeed we are. Well done! When we reach the bottom, we should be out of sight."

"These steps ain't very wide, and they're kinda steep and slippery too. Ya sure we can make it all the way down to the bottom? I can't see no more'n one or two steps in front-uh me. I don't wanna drop ya Marshall. I nearly lost ya once, and I ain't shore how I'd take to havin' that happen again."

Cub could feel nervous jitters starting in his hands and creeping into his gut.

Marshall must have felt them, too. "You will do just fine," he encouraged Cub. "Now let go of my backpack. That will free up your arms and hands so you can use them for balance."

"Sounds like a good idea to me." Cub moved to the edge at the top of the stairs and sat down. He turned himself around and lay on his belly, not even thinking about Marshall's position; Marshall was still glowing, but now he was eating dirt. Cub scooted himself feet-first until his legs dangled over the edge. He searched with his feet, and much to his relief, his toes touched the first tread. He could not decide whether he wanted to see where he had been or where he was going. After some quick thought, he found the courage to turn around and tackle the staircase head on; he figured that would make Marshall happy. Cub's small legs made the rise of each of the stairs seem huge. He slid down the next few steps on his rear, but then his bravery allowed him to attack them standing up. With no handrails or cliff walls on either side, he was glad to have his arms free for balance, like Marshall had suggested. He made a sudden jerk.

"Whoa Cub! Do not teeter."

"But somethin' cold just hit me on the top-uh my head!"

Marshall sounded calm. "You need not be concerned; it was only a drop of cold water. I know it must have felt like a frozen rock, but you will experience more of them before we reach the bottom. If you lose your footing, we will end up as a couple of grease spots on the cave floor, probably never to be found again."

Cub did not answer; he increased his diligence regarding the horrifying task at hand. "Aaaaaa!" His foot rolled on some loose gravel. He managed to remain on the steps. "We're OK!" He panted. "We're OK." His shallow breathing caused him to hesitate for several seconds. Not until then did they hear the pebbles strike the ground far below them. Cub took a deep breath and continued the descent.

"Keep going. You are doing fine. Go easy."

Cub was encouraged by Marshall's compliment, and his jitters began to subside. Then he stiffened. "I hear somethin'."

Marshall extinguished his light.

"What's that screechin'? It's gettin' louder! And it sounds like it's headin' our way! OUCH!" Cub felt the skin of his arm being sliced open.

At that, Marshall's light came back on, and Cub found that they were in the middle of a massive swarm of creatures.

"OUCH! My head!" He swatted aimlessly at the creatures all around him.

"Stop Cub, stop!"

While trying to avoid the flying menaces, Cub became disoriented. Where he thought the next step should be, he found only nothingness. He gyrated to maintain his balance, and everything warped into slow motion. He saw Marshall go flying up into the air, his backpack caught up in a swarm of the critters. Cub realized he was falling, so he reached out and somehow found the edge of a step. He grabbed it and hung on.

The critters untangled themselves from the backpack straps, and Cub saw Marshall plummeting from overhead. Sticking out his foot at just the right moment, Cub snagged the strap of Marshall's backpack; it looped over his ankle, and time returned to its normal pace.

"Ooooof! You're one heavy book." Cub's fingers began to slip. "I can't hold on much longer Marshall!"

"Let me drop."

"No!"

"I said, LET ME DROP! I am too much weight for you to hold."

"Oh no you ain't!" Cub's adrenaline was rushing. He clenched his teeth and tightened his grip. He could feel the strap sliding downward little by little. His ankle began to cramp, but he refused to let Marshall fall. The swarming critters thickened, and again Cub felt the slicing pain. "What are these things Marshall? OUCH!"

"Belfry dwellers. They only bite when something gets in their way during their swarming flights. Tuck yourself into the staircase as best you can and wait for them to pass. I will understand if your strength gives out and you need to let me drop."

The next few seconds seemed like hours. As the last flapping sound of wings faded into the distance, Cub said, "Hang on Marshall." He took a deep breath and groaned as he flung his leg upward. Marshall landed face-down on a step with the backpack strap still wrapped around Cub's ankle. Cub pressed the side of his foot hard onto the rocky flat surface and used his last ounce of strength to pull himself back up. Cub slid the strap from his ankle. He took Marshall out of the backpack and placed him face up beside him. Cub wiped his arms and head where he had been bitten, and when he saw his own blood on his hands, he looked away so he would not faint. He wiped it on the side of the damp staircase wall.

Short of breath and panting, Marshall spoke, barely audible. "Thank you, Cub, for not letting me drop. I am sorry to have dealt you a decision like that. Please be assured that I would have suffered that fate to keep you alive, but there was no guarantee I would have lived through that fall, and I know how big a problem my death would have caused. The balance of nature throughout the universe depends on my map. But it must remain bound within me, and I must remain alive for the map's magic to work."

Cub was taken back by the recognition of the magnitude of his responsibility as The Carrier, but he did not let Marshall know. He picked up Marshall and hugged him tightly. "It ain't 'cause ya hold the map that I made shore I didn't drop ya. It's 'cause you're my friend." He hugged Marshall even tighter into his chest, and his heart warmed when he felt Marshall nuzzle into his shirt. Truth be known, Marshall was actually wiping his nose because he had been shedding tears of relief.

A couple more minutes passed before Cub was ready to get back to making his way down the staircase; he wanted to be on flat ground as soon as possible. "Whadda ya say we keep goin'?"

"Let me catch my breath just a bit longer." Marshall's pages were still flapping with his shallow breathing.

"I'm gettin' a little hungry, Marshall. But we're a long way from food, huh?"

"Yes, but we will make it. We are a team." He winked and took as deep a breath as he could, letting it seep out slowly. "All right, no more stalling. The sooner we get to the bottom, the sooner we can get some sleep and be on our way to get you something to eat."

"Want me to carry ya face-out or face-in? And I can hang onto ya better this time, too."

"Face-out. There are quite a few stairs remaining, and I want you to have plenty of light in addition to keeping your hands and arms free. . .just in case."

"In case-uh what?"

"In case you have to do another balancing act." Marshall smiled.

Cub laughed. "You tetched-in-the-head*41 man. . .I mean book. . .I mean. . .oh, whatever ya are." At that moment, Cub felt even closer to Marshall.

Marshall held as still as possible and guided Cub down the remainder of the stairs. "You are doing well. Stay to the left on the next one. Now, easy to the right." It took another half an hour to reach the bottom.

At the bottom Cub turned and tilted Marshall to shine back up the staircase, but his heart skipped a beat as darkness swallowed the steps only a few feet up. "We will find our way out-uh here, won't we?"

Marshall did not answer; he doused his light. Cub had never experienced such an abyss. He stood motionless. A rough hand touched his cheek then slid down his neck and onto Marshall's backpack. Then he felt hot words crash into his face. "Well, well, well. Whadda we got here? A boy? And a book? That could only mean one thing." A torch magically lit in the hand of a stranger and cast flickering shadows across an unfamiliar face.

Cub gulped.

# Chapter 20

## Bowled Over!

The aged hag's face shown rough in the glow of the torch's flame. Crooked yellow teeth were few, and her cracked, dry tongue scratched across her chapped lips. Her long dress and coat were tattered, and her calloused fingers with thick, dark, chipped nails stuck out through the tips of well worn gloves. Her gray hair, which hung from beneath a homemade crocheted hat, was matted and greasy. She waved the torch a few times, taunting Cub, then she blurted out a sandpapery laugh.

Cub asked, "Who are you lady?"

She paused. "Shorely you're givin' me a line-uh grits." She looked into his eyes. "You really don't know me?" She cackled again.

Cub tried not to show how uneasy he was. "No ma'am, I shore don't. I don't hardly know nobody in the Lower West. First time I ever been in Looters Caverns, too. Heck, I've only been in the Lower West for a few days. Well, maybe longer. Weeks. Seems like forever, but I know it ain't been."

The hag's eyes moved down to Marshall. Cub tightened his grip on Marshall and spun him around in the backpack before she could get a detailed look at his face.

"I been searchin' for you two. At least I think it's you two. I'm lookin' for a boy and a talkin' book. There's a big prize on their heads. I sure could use a prize right 'bout now." She clicked her tongue on her cheek and winked. Her back creaked as she bent over a little bit further and eyed the backpack. "I ain't never met a talkin' book, and the folks 'round here speak mighty highly of 'im. If'n that's him in your backpack there, ya s'pose I could take a gander at 'is face? Maybe even say howdy?"

Cub felt Marshall stiffen. "Ummm, I don't think so."

"That's too bad. 'Cause if'n it's him, I'd love to see that talkin' book's reaction when I innerduce myself." She taunted Cub again, waving the torch and cackling, and again her harsh laugh eerily echoed and faded through the caverns.

Cub said, "Shouldn't ya be gettin' that torch back to the entrance? Other looters're gonna be wantin' to stash their stuff, and if'n the torch don't show back up by the entrance purdy soon, they'll come lookin' just like you did."

"I didn't get this here torch from no entrance. That's the glory of it. I found it on the dirt floor when I fell through."

"So. . .you fell through when Copper Junction dropped?"

"What? NO! Cub, it's me. Little Sadie." She smiled.

Cub's eyes opened wider than ever. His mouth gaped, and he went up on his toes for a closer look. Even past the warts on her eyelids and through the bloodshot whites, he recognized that special twinkle in her cloudy blue eyes.

Little Sadie took Cub's hands in hers and cried through her words. "Oh, Cubster, I sat in that barn ever minute I could, waitin' for ya to come back home. But after seventy years-uh settin' there and hopin' SUL'd hear me - I'd talk to Him night after night - the floor finally done give way. I fell through that barn floor and BANG! Found myself in a mighty dark place. There was a spot-uh light still comin' through that hole way up high where I done fell from, but it finally closed up completely, and I never saw the light-uh day again. Then it come to me: maybe SUL had heard me and was lookin' out for me, 'cause when I found this here torch, I picked it up and it lit all on its own! I took that as a sign I'd find ya down here. A sign that SUL wanted us to be back together. Don't really know how long I been down here either. Seems like time stopped. It's all kinda strange."

"KINDA? I'd say it's over-the-top strange. I'm still ten, and if'n you went back to that barn for the next seventy years after I disappeared that makes ya. . .well, ya look like a hundred and somethin'."

She dropped Cub's hand and backed up. "I ain't no hundred and somethin'!" She primped her matted hair. "Do the math: 70 + 9. I fell through the barn floor when I was a mere seventy-nine."

Cub was at a loss for words. When some of the initial shock wore off he said, "Then I been down here for. . ." He gazed at Little Sadie. "Wait a minute. If'n you're seventy-nine, then. . .oh no! What about Ma and Pa? They must be. . ."

Little Sadie bent over and squeezed Cub's arms, her face at the same level as his. "Cub, your ma and pa died only a few years after ya went missin'."

Cub saw her grab her belly, and he figured her insides must have tied themselves in knots when she saw the tears stream from his boyish eyes.

She went on to say, "Your ma went first, then it was only days after that your pa followed. They wasn't even sick, or at least nobody knew it if'n they was. Everbody just talked like they died from missin' ya; folks say it broke their hearts."

Cub understood the misery of a broken heart at that very minute. He had not planned on losing his parents while he was in the Lower West. He had just been trying to get home in time for supper for the last few days. But it had been years. "Did y'all burry*42 'em in the Copper Junction Cemetery?" He sniffed.

"We shore did." She wiped her own tears, then Cub's.

"And ya put purdy flowers and a marker on their graves and said a few words to SUL?"

"Yep. And now they're just waitin' for the day when the etherealians come and take 'em to Maycly, just like SUL said in The Book of Good and Evil."

The reality of his ma and pa passing caused Cub's breath to stutter as he inhaled deeply. "I never heard many stories from that book till I got down here."

She straightened up, her back cracking and popping in the process. "Nah, ya probably wouldn't-uh. Parents don't tell their kids stories 'bout certain things SUL put in place till they're old 'nough and ready to hear 'em. But legend has it there's one of them law books that talks. It's purdy special. They call it 'Marshall Law.' Looters in these here caverns keep tellin' me some little boy here in the Lower West has that talkin' book." She laughed. "And to think I thought it might be you." Looking right at Cub, she said, "And if'n that was the case, that'd make you The Carrier." She laughed again. "And that just plum ain't right, 'cause I know ya too well."

Cub froze, and Little Sadie shook her head and waved her hand at how silly she thought she had been to think such. "Not to change the subject, but they also say we're right below Copper Junction. That true?"

Cub's head bobbed.

Little Sadie stared off into the darkness of the caverns. "That there's some bitter pill to swallow." She shook her head again. "I sat and waited for ya in that ol' barn, even after my ma and pa done passed away, which was many years after yourn did. I been keepin' myself sane knowin' that since we all trusted SUL, we'll getta see 'em all again once we get to Maycly in the afterlife. I shore have missed 'em though, and still do."

To stop her nose from running, she shoved a finger up each nostril till the frayed rims of the missing tips of her filthy glove touched the skin of her nose. She held her fingers there, but this did not keep her from talking—her voice took on a weird nasal tone. "All our families went our separate ways. Nash's folks moved way out-uh town right after he went missin'. I don't know what ever happened to Boyd and the other two." She pulled her fingers from her nose, took a big long sniff, and wiped her snotty fingertips on her ratty old coat as she continued. "A couple-uh them guys came to the barn for a while, then I guess they either moved away or just plum give up. But I kept on comin' to that barn 'cause I knew I'd find ya someday. And here ya are." She delivered Cub a gentle hug. Her eyes welled up as she looked at him with a warm expression. "I found ya." She wrapped her arms around him as far as they would go for a strong hug, not realizing she was smothering Marshall.

With mixed emotions Cub pushed her away. "You're old 'nough to be my grandma! This is nuts. Ya mean I been down here for seventy years? Or maybe even longer? How'd ya know I had the talkin' book? Where's the tunnel lead that you just come from? Can we get out-uh here? Can we get back into the barn? I wanna go home, Little Sadie. I wanna go home."

"Whoa, slow down Cub. Let me explain." Little Sadie took a seat on the dirt floor, grunting and groaning all the way down. "I never said I knew ya had the talkin' book, I said I thought ya had it. Her face brightened at the realization of the truth. "So ya really are the boy and the talkin' book?"

Cub hesitated. "No. Yeah. Maybe."

Marshall's words were muffled. "Is this the Little Sadie you told me about? The girl you were planning on marrying when you got back to Copper Junction?"

"Yep. One and the same."

"Then turn me around. I want a first-hand look at this pretty gal."

Cub did, and Marshall grimaced at his first glance. "WOW! You look. . .you look. . .exactly like the princess of Looters Caverns should look."

Little Sadie smiled and blinked a few times.

"Little Sadie, allow me to introduce myself. I am Marshall Law."

Cub could feel panic creeping up on him.

Little Sadie leaned closer to Marshall's face. He could not hold back a cough at the odor wafting from her. "Sorry," he said. "It must be the mold in these caverns." He cleared his throat.

Little Sadie said to Cub, "Ya mean this talkin' book is the book, Marshall Law?"

Cub's panic began to subside when he felt Marshall's tension ease up, and he answered his long lost girl. "Yes'm, that's him all right."

"He shore is handsome." Little Sadie ran her fingers over Marshall's top corner. "Nice gears fella." She winked at Marshall, and his leather face blushed.

Out of nervousness Cub giggled at the odd moment. He said, "Marshall, you're lookin' like red mahogany instead-uh dark brown leather."

Little Sadie continued, "Do we ever have a lot to talk 'bout!" She shook her head as if she were making some space in her brain for the whole thing. She patted the ground beside herself as an invitation for Cub to join her. He sat, and Little Sadie pinched his cheek. Cub squirmed.

"We'll get back to that book in a minute," she began. "I wanna clarify a few things first." She took Cub's hand in hers. "I been down here for a while. A certain bunch-uh looters come rushin' in and out to leave their stash. They was the first to find me. I made a deal with 'em that I'd watch over their loot if'n they'd just let me live in these here caverns and bring me some food and water ever time they stopped in. I told 'em to always toss it in the barrel at the back entrance and I'd be sure to find it. And I promised never to rat 'em out. They accepted the deal under one condition." She looked Cub straight in the eye. "If'n a boy and a talkin' book come through, I'm s'posed to tell the main looter-uh all looters right away, and I'll get a big ol' reward."

Marshall swore he could have heard the dried mud snap on Little Sadie's face when her smile widened into a whomper-jawed grin.

Cub's face went pale. His speech was faint. "Blackjack."

Little Sadie startled. "How'd ya know? Blackjack's a mean sunnuvagun. Right scary too. Ya ever met 'im?"

"We met. Not on purpose, but we met."

"How 'bout 'is outlaw gang? Them lousy good-for-nothin's oughta be shot for all the wrong they say and do. Am I right?"

Cub thought about everything the gang had done to him and his friends. "Yeah, they should. But they're hard to get. Me and Nash tried, along with Bristol, to take 'em down, but they just wouldn't fall. A few of 'em even burried me n' Nash up to our chins, poured sweetdip on our heads, and left us to die at the jaws-uh syrup fleas. Lucky for us, Night Crawler showed up just in time to save us."

Little Sadie's expression made a drastic change. "Ya talkin' 'bout our Nash? Is he down here too?" She held her torch higher. "Nash? Nash, ya in here?" The echo was bone-chilling.

"No, Nash ain't in the caverns. We split up. And I'd 'preciate it if'n ya wouldn't talk so loud. We don't need no extra attention."

Little Sadie immediately lost interest in Nash. "We. . .you mean me and you, or you and Marshall?"

"Me and Marshall. They wanna kill me and steal Marshall."

Little Sadie scratched her head; her crocheted cap slid back and forth. "I can understand 'em bein' after Marshall. But you just happen to be carryin' 'im around. Why would they be willin' to kill ya? You're just a boy." She stopped, and her eyes bulged. "Unless. . ."

Cub's fear gave him away. Little Sadie squinted, and she moved the torch extra close to Cub and Marshall as her lips widened, this time into an ugly snarl. "Unless you really are The Carrier."

Cub felt Marshall go rigid. He glowed an angry orange and started to smolder. Cub wanted to tell Marshall to cool down, but he did not want to blow their cover.

"By gum! Cub, ya are The Carrier!"

Cub slapped the torch out of Little Sadie's hand. His heart sank. Now he did not know whether Little Sadie would stay faithful to Blackjack and the outlaw gang to get her reward, or if she would choose to side with Marshall and him. He thought, Should I trust her? SUL wouldn't-uh put her down here to help Blackjack. . .would He?

# Chapter 21

## The Cowboy

Nash was having his own problems. "I knew Night Crawler'd never show up here at Skeeter Lake. But I'll just bet he woulda if'n Cub was here. Night Crawler wants to find Blackjack and prob'ly even steal Marshall. So we're nothin' but excess junk for 'im to deal with, 'specially without Cub. We ain't important like Cub."

"Is that so?" Nash slouched and turned when Night Crawler's voice came from right behind him. But he straightened when he noticed a cowboy standing next to Night Crawler. The stranger wore a smooth suede ten-gallon cady*43 that topped off a rugged face hidden behind a handlebar mustache and a beard. The cowboy spit with precision, hitting his target, a tick-stick bug, right on the head. Nash had never heard an insect growl.

Night Crawler nodded in the cowboy's direction and said, "I met this feller last night. He was settin' by a campfire all alone and invited me over for some vittles and story tellin'. Seemed kinda odd since I knew that nobody from that area'd offer such a kind deed. That's what led me to thinkin' he prob'ly wasn't from them parts, so close to Marshall's Gap and all the roughnecks there. I figured he was harmless and just needed a pal for a spell, so I joined him. Said he'd been hidin' out for quite a while. Told me a lot-uh things really. I had a feelin' he'd be a good one to ride with the Bristol Posse." Night Crawler seemed to be struggling to suppress a grin.

Nash's manners went missing again. He looked up at the man and asked, "Ya got a name?"

The cowboy stared at Nash. A thin smile crossed his lips.

Night Crawler cleared his throat. "This here cowboy's name's Boyd."

Nash snapped back, "I had a good friend once, name-uh Boyd, but he wasn't no cowboy. He was a COWARD-boy. He and a couple-uh others took off runnin' and left me and Cub alone to deal with the Lower West. Left us high and dry, just like Cub did a while back." He folded his arms in frustration and gritted his teeth.

The smile left Boyd's lips, and his fingers curled into fists at his sides. He sucked on his bubble gum wad and spit again on the same tick-stick bug; it growled. "Nash, me and the others did not leave ya high and dry."

Nash's face flushed. He could see the muscles in Boyd's temples flex several times as he clenched and released his jaws.

"Yeah, we was scared all right, but we ran to get help. First person we come to was Cub's ma. 'Course Little Sadie tagged along too. When we got back to the barn, the trap door was gone. . .clean disappeared." Boyd shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other. "I never told 'nother livin' soul this next part. I kept comin' back every day for more'n 30 years to make sure that trap door was truly gone. I'd wait till Little Sadie made her exit, then I'd sneak in." He paused and watched Nash's mouth and eyes opening wider and wider.

"I took a wife and had a couple-uh real nice kids. I finally told 'em the stories 'bout our ol' clubhouse, the timber stools with our names carved in 'em, all-uh the hidden candy, and the made-up stories we used to tell just to earn braggin' rights. My youngin's plum wore me out till I took 'em to the back-uh Moffitt's barn and showed 'em where the trap door used to be. Their ma wanted to come too; made it a real special doin' at the last Copper Junction Function I ever attended. A lotta good that did. When I stepped back away so's they could have a better look at the site-uh the missin' trap door, some soft boards give way. All I remember seein' was my honey's and my boys' faces lookin' down on me from way up high when the dust cleared. 'Fore I could get up and climb out, them soft boards somehow magically replaced themselves over the hole. I could hear 'em snappin' back into place as my dearie hollered and the kids screamed. So here I am." Boyd removed his hat and bowed his head, revealing the bushy dark hair he always had. He straightened back up, threw his hat on the ground, and kicked it. Nash could see the traces of tears on his cheeks.

"Then their voices just stopped, Nash. They just plain stopped. 'Nothin' but dead silence. I looked 'round and made out that I was most likely at a forest's edge, so I decided to hide out there till somebody rescued me. I was hopin' it'd be you, but this is even better now." A bashful grin came over his face, and he scratched the back of his neck. "Not only have I found you, but I'm kinda fond-uh this here Night Crawler fella."

Nash, clearly gobsmacked, remained motionless. It was pretty obvious that Boyd was not delivering him a load of corral dust*44.

"But one thing I learned the hard way." Boyd hung his head again. "Loneliness can, well, it can almost kill a man." He was too broken up to continue.

Night Crawler picked up Boyd's hat, dusted it off a bit, and mashed it onto Boyd's head. Then he looked at Nash. "That's why he invited me over to his campfire; he was lonely. And after hearin' his story, well, that's when I figured he'd be a good addition to the Bristol Posse." He held up the lantern from their clubhouse. "Whadda ya say Nash?"

Nash passed out.

# Chapter 22

## Secrets Revealed

## ~ ON MAYCLY ~

The odd pair of brothers, Wiskee and Jonji, were playing in the castle courtyard. Wiskee taunted Jonji, "How many times do I have to tell you, you'll always be my little brother?" He scampered just out of Jonji's reach.

Jonji chased after him shouting, "As many times as it takes for me to give in to that reality—and this is NOT that time!" It was a game they always played.

Iona made her way from the feasting room after a delicious breakfast prepared by the castle chefs. She gathered with others who were enjoying the spirit of fellowship in the throne room. She saw Cole on one of the couches near the enormous fireplace; he was engrossed in reading a book. She went up behind him and put her arms around him. "Have I told you lately that I love you?" She had made Cole smile yet again.

"Not within the last hour." Cole put his head back and looked at his wife—upside down—winked and blinked at her, and returned to his book.

Iona hugged him tighter, then she made her way to the couch across from him and reclined so she could gaze up through the crystal ceiling outlined in ever-growing flowers. She never tired of the sights of Maycly. The etherealians danced and sang to the Sprites' festive melodies played on their tiny, pleasantly boisterous instruments.

The fiery castle sentinels bellowed. Iona and Cole looked at the magic slate and saw that Jonji and Wiskee had entered the castle foyer. Within seconds, the two romped through the grand doors into the throne room. The sentinels roared again, alerting all in the castle that there were more visitors. The royal family smiled as the guests appeared on the magic slate. They came through the doors. "Welcome everyone!" Iona rushed to hug them all. "And to what occasion do we owe having all of you visit us at once."

SUL's voice came from the doorway. "I've called a gathering." Everyone in the room bowed. "Please rise." He made His way to the biggest coffee table and instructed Carbreyghal, his personal etherealian, to place a large scroll on it. Curiosity peaked, and everyone gathered around for a first-hand look. "I must ask those of you who were not summoned to the throne room to excuse yourselves, please." No one took offense, as it was common for SUL to summon a few and request to be alone with them to discuss and plan things in private, things such as galas, surprises, best cookie contests, and all other manner of events. All Mayclysians were aware that when every detail was in place, an announcement would be made regarding the grand upcoming festivities.

Iona nodded and she and her family joined the others exiting the room, but SUL called to them. "I need you to remain even though you were not summoned as the others were."

No one questioned SUL, though Iona gasped when she felt the birthmark just above her heart—in the shape of Maycly's flag—beginning to turn warm. She and Cole worked their way back through the crowd, hugging and shaking hands with those who were leaving.

Wiskee leapt onto the coffee table, sniffed the scroll, and backed away, puzzled at its scent.

Iona performed a silent role call: Charleo, Jit, Giddy, Artie, Keegan, The Man Behind The Dumpster, Philip, Denton, Dittle, and Froaker. Hmmmm. Along with Cole and me, Wiskee, and Jonji. She clutched the fabric of her dress over her birthmark. "Quite the planning team this time. It really must be a marvelous gala we're going to plan. And judging by the size of that scroll, it looks like there's a lot of planning to do."

"You might say that," SUL said. He called to the Sprites. "Jit, Giddy, would you please be so kind as to untie the silk ribbon binding the scroll?"

"Gladly," Jit said as he grabbed his best friend's hand and took to the air from Charleo's hot chocolate mug and saucer where the two had been playing a quick game of hide-n-seek. They flew in the precise manner required to untie the ribbon, leaving a lingering trail of sparkles in the shape of a bow that soon fizzled.

"Thank you, My tiny ones."

Jit and Giddy bowed in midair and flew back to Charleo, the retired chukkon army general. Jit and Giddy had been given the honorable duty to serve as Charleo's appointed Sprites. They had once tended to the head etherealian, Tarnnin, until he chose Evil over Good. SUL eventually destroyed him at Earth's end, but SUL had to use up so much energy in doing so He had actually lost most of His power and magic. He began to unroll the scroll. It covered the entire table.

"Cannonball!" shouted Wiskee as he jumped from the table and landed in The Man Behind The Dumpster's arms. "Howdy Dumpster Man. It's great to see you here." Wiskee licked his friend's face.

SUL began, "Charleo, would you be so kind as to hold one corner down. Keegan, Artie, Philip, would you each take a corner as well, please?" Keegan and Artie, the other two retired chukkon warrior leaders, and Philip, the retired wightling general, each smoothed the scroll and held down a corner.

Dumpster Man leaned over Charleo's shoulder for a look, Wiskee nearly falling out of his arms. "Now that's one big scroll!" Dumpster Man was an expert at stating the obvious.

Iona and Cole stepped closer. Charleo's two chukkonettes, Denton and Dittle, and Froaker, the wightling boy who had come to Maycly at age eight, joined them. Cole surveyed the opened scroll from top to bottom and saw an array of scattered, faded markings. The only distinct marking was a circle in the center. "This doesn't look like a regular event scroll." Everyone around the table concurred.

SUL's eyes met those of each one present. "It's not."

Iona clamped a harder grip on her dress when she felt her heart flutter and her colorful birthmark increase in temperature.

"Look." Charleo pointed at Iona's head.

Iona was certain her crown was glowing along with her birthmark. She reached up, took the illuminated crown from her head, and stared at the pulsating, lighted masterpiece. Her birthmark was glowing so brightly, the others could make out every detail of Maycly's flag through her velvet dress. Her voice was faint. "It can't be." She closely inspected her headpiece as Cole guided her to one of the surrounding chairs.

With extreme authority in SUL's voice He said, "It is."

"What be...it?" Keegan asked.

SUL waited for Iona to calm down following her realization of what was at hand, then He spoke. "Iona, the time has come to reveal the secrets you and I have kept since the last battle."

Iona stood and moved to SUL's side holding her crown. She looked at SUL hoping He would stop her. Instead, He gave her an affirming nod. Hands shaking, she placed her glowing crown on the circle in the center of the scroll. A brilliant sphere of light aglow with golden crystals rose from inside the crown, the colors reminding her of Maycly's three suns sending their light to the two moons at twilight.

SUL reached inside the crown and cupped the glowing sphere in His hands, spoke over it in His secret language, then returned the glow to the inside of the crown. All but four of the gemstones in the crown melted and created an illustration of the world of Maycly. The illustration became a hologram that lifted from the scroll and hovered in the air. The four gems rose, and one hung beneath each of the four corners of the holographic planet of Maycly. Four rays extended from the gems of Iona's crown, one each to the north, south, east, and west.

Iona fell into a trance and rose into the air, a shimmering aura encasing her entire body. Her appearance became etherealian-like, and she sang with a soft voice. "Look at the scroll. Many things shall appear before you. What you will see shall become your destiny on The Day of Hidden Earth."

Everyone's eyes locked on the scroll, and they were speechless, even Wiskee. A hologram of Earth formed beside the one of Maycly, and past events raced, creating a visual time line as Iona sang. "We all know that Earth suffered its explosive end during the collision with Evil at SUL's hand. At that time, SUL also caused four elemental pieces of Earth to scatter and hide beneath Maycly." The four holographic elemental pieces collided with the gems, and a tiny explosion sizzled at each site. The gems illuminated brighter and began to morph.

Iona continued, and the holographic action followed her voice. "Next to each elemental piece, SUL strategically placed a very small sun and moon he had summoned from the universe; when the gentle lights reached their elemental pieces, SUL called to each elemental piece to become a planet similar to but much smaller than Earth. He blew softly on each new planet, one at a time, setting it spinning." The gems, which now resembled planets in the hologram, began to rotate.

"SUL called to Mother Nature to assist Him by speaking to the components of each planet. He asked her to advise each planet to generate its own flora, fauna, and human forms of life as it saw fit for its individual elemental environment. And so it was done." Those who were gathered around the table witnessed every detail. Iona continued in a subtle melody, "SUL called to four of the outermost roots wrapped around the pinnacle root of Maycly, asking them to choose one elemental planet." The others watched in awe as four roots unwound, extended outward, and grew toward their planetary choice. "SUL called for each root to nourish its elemental planet and sustain it for a time." Each holographic root attached itself to the top of its chosen planet and pulsated in the color of its gem.

Rings of floating diamond dust appeared and surrounded each planet then were absorbed deep into each planet's core. "SUL named the first elemental planet Planet Land, the second Planet Water, the third Planet Sky, and the fourth Planet Fire." As Iona called the name of each planet, it shone brighter from within.

Iona pointed to the hologram of Planet Land. The diamond dust swirled inside then shot a ribbon of icy bronze-colored stars toward Planet Water. When the sparkling ribbon connected to Planet Water, the diamond dust inside that planet mimicked the action of Planet Land, and a glittering ribbon of emerald stars burst forth from Planet Water in the direction of and reaching for Planet Sky. Planet Sky shot a celestial ribbon of blue toward Planet Fire, and Planet Fire shot the final ribbon of diamond-like stars of deep orange back to Planet Land, connecting all four of the planets.

Everyone looked at Iona, still encased in the shimmering aura. Iona looked at SUL and sang, "And so shall the acts of The Carriers bring forth the Day of Hidden Earth, the birth of Your new Earth."

SUL nodded in confirmation.

The aura turned to a soft purple, and a sparse array of lavendaria petals came to light in the air around Iona. She raised her arms above her tilted head and looked through the glass ceiling at the etherealians. "The secret prophecy has begun to manifest. A ray of light from the planet SUL has assigned to each of you will now enter your hearts. Some of you will receive a ray from the elemental planets, and some will receive a ray of light from Maycly." Iona waited for the process to take place, then she continued. "SUL has also chosen The Carriers of The Elements." A face appeared on the surface of each holographic planet. "Memorize the faces before you, for these are The Carriers you seek to protect on your assigned planet." A name appeared below each face. "Learn their names, for you shall protect these Carriers with respect, fervor, and valor."

Her voice changed and she sang, "Artie, you and The Man Behind The Dumpster have been chosen by SUL to protect The Carrier of The Element of Planet Land." Iona floated a quarter turn, her voice changed again. "Charleo, Jit, and Giddy, SUL has chosen the three of you to protect The Carrier of The Element of Planet Water." Another quarter turn, and Iona's voice changed again. "Keegan and Philip, SUL has chosen you to protect The Carrier of The Element of Planet Sky." She completed the circle and looked at the young ones. "Denton, Dittle, and Froaker, SUL has chosen the three of you to protect The Carrier of The Element of Planet Fire."

Iona looked at her family. "Cole, my dear husband, Wiskee, my little buddy, and Jonji, my sweet boy, the three of you have not been assigned to an elemental planet. You have instead been assigned to remain on Maycly to watch over the Mayclysians. Your royal presence and the duties you perform as the bringers of peace are necessary to maintain Good on Maycly."

Iona's hand moved in a circular motion. The holographic planets returned to their gem-state. Iona continued, "Behold the gems, for they are a grand portion of the secret prophecy. The imperial topaz will bring the height of magic to The Element of Planet Land, the emerald will bring the height of magic to The Element of Planet Water, the sapphire to Planet Sky, and the carnelian will heighten Planet Fire's magic to its peak."

She took in a deep breath as her expression changed with the pleasant aroma from the lavendaria petals. She sang, "To protect their individual whereabouts, the gems and their magic powers have remained unknown to all, even The Carriers. Very soon, The Carriers will be presented with the gems and their purpose. The gems must be delivered, instructions given, and their purposes explained to The Carriers by the one who wears them in her crown—the queen of Maycly."

Again Iona turned to her family. "I will be leaving you for a brief time." She saw tears come to Wiskee's eyes at the thought of being separated. She blew him a kiss and gave him a reassuring nod. They had not been separated for any length of time since they had been imprisoned by FAZ, narrowly escaping the gallows. Wiskee tried to smile, and Iona felt her heart melt with the warmth of a mother's love. She was silent. The air was thick with anticipation.

SUL spoke. "The gems must be joined with the The Elements before The Elements are put into their places within each elemental shrine. All of this must happen before the roots of Maycly detach from the planets and return to replenish what was used from Maycly. The signs of detaching will come in different ways on each planet."

The aura around Iona turned to fire. Her countenance changed, her eyes became filled with blue flames, and her singing voice deepened and resembled SUL's vocal symphonies at creation. "These secrets are not written in any of the law books of the elemental planets, nor are they found in The Book of Good and Evil. The gems hold SUL's penultimate magic, the power the elements must have to bring forth the ribbons of stars which will set into motion the creation of SUL's new Earth. Should anyone else discover this secret before the gems are delivered, SUL's new Earth could suffer greatly. Let us do as SUL has asked. As we have banded together before, so shall we band together again, and so shall SUL see His new Earth, His final promised creation, come to pass."

All joined Iona in making the sacred motions of the Traditional Acknowledgment of Reverence. The aura began to fade, and Iona's appearance returned to normal.

The hologram sank back down into the scroll and became a permanent illustration. The gems returned to Iona's crown, and the crown detached itself from the scroll, re-formed, and rose into the air. Jit and Giddy flew to the crown at SUL's request and carried it to Iona. She bowed her head, and the Sprites placed the crown on her flower-woven auburn braids, the gems still glowing with a dim light.

Carbreyghal, the head etherealian, appeared and lowered Iona onto a nearby couch and waited by her side. The rest of the royal family joined Carbreyghal. Wiskee jumped up onto the couch beside his momma and licked her cheek, Cole held her hand, and Jonji sat at her feet. The others in the room remained around the scroll, looking, studying, and wondering as they waited for their queen to recover from the event.

Iona lay sleeping for several minutes. When her eyes opened, Cole greeted her with a kiss, and she felt Wiskee's little licker all over her face and even going up her nose. The group respectfully waited for her to get her bearings before asking SUL their questions.

Artie was first. "But why canna Ye be a-creatin' the new Earth on Yer own, SUL? Ye be the Creator and all. Just as Iona said, this event be not a part of The Book of Good and Evil, and we all be a-wonderin' the same thin: why be this task so necessary?"

All eyes fell on SUL. He answered, "Me alone, creating My new Earth, could not and cannot be done. It took much more power than I anticipated to rid Maycly of Evil. The pain from the gruesome loss of those who did not trust Me and the conflagration of My original Earth was more draining than I could have ever imagined. The enormous amount of emotions I experienced and the power required of Me robbed Me of the majority of My magic. But I felt it a necessary sacrifice. It was too late when I realized I would not have enough reserved power to create a new Earth on My own. When I felt all of My magic escaping Me at the end of the final battle, I knew I had to devise a different plan for creating a new Earth in an effort to keep My promise to those who trusted Me. Therefore, with the limited amount of magic I still possessed, I set in motion the process of others to bring My new Earth into existence. I had hoped I could create the smaller elemental planets from elemental pieces of Earth, and My new Earth could be made from those if certain things aligned; hence, the secret prophecy and the hope that The Carriers have heard Me and understand their duties."

Froaker looked confused. "But if You could create those four planets, why didn't You just go ahead and create the new Earth right then?"

"Good question, My dear boy. The combination of the four elemental planets makes up only a fraction of the size of the new Earth I will create."

Froaker gulped. Denton and Dittle each grabbed one of Froaker's arms when his knees buckled.

SUL delivered comforting words of encouragement to the team. "As you have trusted Me, I am now trusting all of you to help Me regain what was taken from Me by Evil. It is crucial that each of your teams not fail. For if The Carriers, The Elements, and the gems do not come together correctly at the appointed time, not only will there be no new Earth, but even worse, the elemental planets and every living thing upon them will face a horrible eternity and remain in constant torment, riding the fence between life and death. I will never be able to restore them to their former state of Good."

Keegan's caring spirit shone through. "But the animals. . .Ye'd be a-bringin' 'em here, right? And the wightlin's. . .well, humans. . .who've trusted Ye on these elemental planets, their spirits and bodies have been a-comin' ta Maycly ta be reunited, right? I mean, they've been a-comin' all along, haven't they?" His shoulders drooped when he saw Charleo shake his head. Keegan looked back at SUL and spoke, "I guess I've not been a-seein' any livin' thin' arrive on Maycly since the battle's end, have I?" Keegan pulled his hat from his head and twiddled it with nervous fingers.

"Keegan, they are not coming now, but they will come when the new Earth is created."

Artie seemed anxious. "How 'bout we just be a-goin' ta get 'em fer Ye now? I be sure the mandibleron gryphons and etherealians would be more than happy ta do one of their favorite duties. Besides, I've been a-lookin' fer an excuse ta give the skyships a new color of paint." Artie removed his hat. "Dunna Ya see, there'd be no reason ta bring about Yer new Earth. And I be certain no one on Maycly would e'er be a-doubtin' Ye and Yer ways. E'en if the new Earth wouldna come to be, we'd all still be a-trustin' Ye. Ye be all we need." He put his hat back on and asked SUL, "What be the matter with Ye SUL?"

Charleo slammed a backhand into Artie's chest. "Be ye a-kiddin' me? Ye need not be askin, 'What be the matter with Ye SUL?' I think ye need ta be askin' yerself, 'What be the matter with me?' Questionin' SUL like that. Givin' Him instructions. What be ye a-thinkin'?" Charleo was beside himself with apparent disbelief at his friend's lack of judgment.

Artie hung his head in shame. "Sorry me Creator. I just dunna want ta see Ye and those on the other planets suffer if there be no need ta."

"I appreciate your willingness, Artie, and please do not be embarrassed. I know you mean well, but I haven't the power left in Me to bring anything or anyone to Maycly right now. I have been stripped of the power and magic it takes to separate bodies and spirits and then reunite them." SUL took a slow, deep breath. "But this I can tell you. I have set in motion the event of My magic to return double should My plan come together." He coughed, a wicked-sounding rattle coming from the depths of his being. "I have become weak and frail. It is no longer in My hands; it is now in the hands of you and The Carriers."

Wiskee jumped into The Man Behind The Dumpster's arms and piped up, "What about You, SUL? What about Maycly? If all this doesn't come together just right, what will happen to You and Maycly?"

SUL's voice was raspy. "I cannot tell you exactly everything the future holds, for none of this was ever scribbled. But I know this much: I would be no more, and Maycly would be feasted upon and ruled by Evil. It would become a place ten times worse than Targrum ever was, and it would remain in that state forever."

Charleo said, "I be a-feelin' like I swallowed a rock, just as I did at the onset of The Day of Reckonin'. I thought Evil was gone fere'er."

SUL's eyes dropped. He sighed, then He spoke. "Charleo, my dear Charleo. That was the plan, but there were no pieces of Earth that did not contain at least some bit of Evil, though I did My best to select the pieces of Earth which held the least amount. These are the pieces that brought about the elemental planets. So, as you can guess, there is Evil lurking on each elemental planet, but how much or how severe it has become, I do not know."

Keegan gasped. The Man Behind The Dumpster handed Wiskee to Cole and held Keegan. "Keegan, my friend, everything will be all right. It's going to work out, I promise."

Keegan looked up into The Man Behind The Dumpster's eyes. His voice shook and he asked, "Really?"

The Man Behind The Dumpster answered, "Really." Being half wightling and half etherealian, he spread his wings and encompassed Keegan in his glistening feathers and arms and held him tighter. "It really will, won't it SUL?"

SUL grew pale. He wobbled and leaned on the table. General Philip steadied Him. SUL whispered, "I hope so. My new Earth must be created for two reasons even more important than the return of My magic. . .doubled." He wheezed, then coughed. "Those on the elemental planets—those who have trusted Me—deserve to have free rein on Maycly and the new Earth for eternity, just as you will." He emitted a croup-like cough. "And they deserve to be reunited as new bodies and spirits." He winced in pain. "And because My new. . .Earth holds. . .the balance of nature. . .throughout. . .the universe. . ." He collapsed.

Iona rushed to SUL and called to Carbreyghal, who gathered SUL in his arms and flew Him to His bed within the castle. A trail of sparkles raced behind Carbreyghal as Jit and Giddy followed.

All were at a loss. The air hung heavy with reverence and suspense. Wiskee crawled from Cole's arms into Iona's. His eyes teared, he leaned his head back, and he howled. Iona felt him quivering like he had at the beginning of their journey through the darkness to Maycly.

The Sprites returned. Jit removed his hat and bowed his head before he spoke. "SUL is alive. He is breathing, but very shallowly. He has called for Iona."

She wasted no time. Carrying Wiskee with her for comfort, she entered SUL's room. She was reminded of the way her dear friend Emmie had looked, minus the medical equipment, just before she passed away on Earth. Iona approached the side of SUL's bed. Wiskee gently stepped from her arms and sat down next to SUL.

The look in SUL's eyes was one Iona had never seen. She smiled at Him, and He took her hand in His. He spoke with a weak voice. "This is not just about Good and Evil, it is about My creations and all of life." He closed his eyes, and tears ran down His cheeks. His grip weakened. He was severely grieved. Iona leaned forward and kissed Him on the forehead. Wiskee lapped up His tears.

SUL's eyes barely opened, but they focused on Iona. She took His other hand in hers and heard His faint inward voice. "My queen, it was never My intention to cause you more pain and trials. I did not want you and your friends to have to face such a myriad of dangers ever again for the sake of Good. But I need your help."

Iona could tell He was miserable asking for something this big from His most trusted ones. She responded with bravery. "Considering everything You've done for us, I am certain I speak for us all when I say we will be honored to do this for You, SUL. You must hang on." SUL saw her tears. He tried to move His hand to her face but was too weak. She lifted it for Him, and He wiped away her tears. "We will not fail You, my Creator."

Carbreyghal immediately came to SUL's side. SUL spoke a few words to his head etherealian then closed His eyes. Carbreyghal's personal Sprite, Bopper, went to SUL and wiped His forehead, and Carbreyghal took Iona's hand. He picked up a small scroll from the nightstand. "Take this with you. It shows the place where you will find The Carriers on each elemental planet. Things did not go as planned on Planet Land; there is trouble, and Cub needs help. Go there first. Once you have finished your duty there, proceed to the other planets to deliver the magic gems. Deliver them in this order: Planet Water, then Planet Sky, and lastly Planet Fire. The protectors of The Carriers that SUL is sending to each planet will precede you. You must be sent out in style, as that is what the Mayclysians expect when their queen departs for any length of time. We must not allow fear to be instilled in them. SUL has called to His etherealians to summon all Mayclysians to the Valley of Feasting for a gathering. Go there now. Tell the Mayclysians the purpose of the protectors, then send them off to do their duties. Be certain everyone understands that Maycly is in safe hands with Cole, Jonji, and Wiskee while you are gone. Then it shall be your time to leave. Say your goodbyes; remain positive and confident. Thassalon, SUL's chosen mandibleron gryphon, will await you."

Iona could hear SUL's labored breathing. He whispered to her, "Tell My people I promise My new Earth shall come to pass." He looked past Iona and tried to smile at Cole and the others standing behind her. "Now all of you must begin your journeys. Do not tarry. Thank you everyone." He looked directly at Iona. "Thank you." Then He fell into an extraordinarily deep sleep.

Iona looked into Carbreyghal's eyes and saw exactly what she wanted to see; SUL's new Earth was being created. Carbreyghal put his hand to her cheek and smiled. Iona trusted Carbreyghal to tend to SUL. She picked Wiskee up off SUL's bed, then she and the others left His side and returned to the throne room.

"Well then, let's be a-gettin' started!" Artie slapped Keegan on the back. The blow caused the air to rush from Keegan's lungs, and he stumbled forward, bumping into Charleo, nearly knocking him over. Charleo straightened right up, as did Keegan, and they looked at Artie. Artie bit his lower lip and wiggled his eyebrows up and down at a rapid pace.

All were ready and willing now that they knew what was at stake. Iona clung to Wiskee, leaned into Cole, and looked proudly at her human son as she watched her friends make their way out of the room. She looked up into Cole's eyes. "I can't lose anyone ever again. You understand that, don't you?" Cole nodded, Jonji looked lovingly at her, and Wiskee licked her tears.

# Chapter 23

## Meanwhile, Back in the Lower West...

## ~ ON PLANET LAND ~

SMACK!

"Ouch. Dang it! That hurt," shouted Bristol, who was hog-tied to a wooden chair.

"Shut up ol' man. Don't talk till Blackjack tells ya to." The outlaw pistol-whipped him again.

Bristol shook off the pain and scowled. "I don't give a wart's hair who's s'posed to tell me when to talk. I said, don't do it again."

SMACK!

"OUCH! Cut that out. You're givin' me a daggum headache, ya jo-fired lickspittle*45!"

Bristol continued to wriggle his wrists to loosen the ropes. He kept looking around but could not tell where he was, as only one candle was burning in the dark room. Plus, this was the first time since taking him from his cabin that they had removed the hood from over his head. The only action Bristol had had was when someone shoved food or water through a small hole near his mouth while they rode.

He tried kicking but was immediately reminded that his ankles were tied to the chair legs. Over he went. A gang member grabbed him by the straps of his overalls and pulled. "Git up ya ol' bearded, stinkin'. . ."

Bristol over-enunciated. "Stop. Right. There. . . or. . ."

"Or what? Ya gonna fight me from the ground, face down?" The meanie let Bristol drop face first and the outlaw gang laughed and kicked him. Then the gang member grabbed him by his ears and tilted him and the chair upright again. Bristol spit blood in the outlaw's face. The outlaw raised a backhand ready to slap Bristol when Blackjack walked in.

"I thought I told you boys to keep him in such a way he'd still be able to do some thinkin'. All that drippin' blood makes me think one or more-uh ya's was bullyin' 'im for no reason." Blackjack looked each of them in the eye. Off to the side he saw one of them quickly slide his gun back into his holster. Blackjack turned to the man. "Gimme your gun."

"But Mr. Blackjack, sir, I didn't do nothin' wrong."

"I said, gimme your gun."

"OK boss." Trembling, the man took his pistol from his holster and handed it to Blackjack. "Here ya go."

Blackjack noticed a sticky red residue on the butt. "Not only are ya stupid, you're a flat-out liar. Look at the blood on this here gun and tell me it ain't ol' man Bristol's."

The outlaw slowly made eye contact with Blackjack. "That blood is not ol' man Bristol's."

"Really. Then who's is it? It's awful fresh, still wet even." Blackjack wiped a half-dried clot from the accused man's shirt then looked at each of the other gang members. "And I don't see no blood on any-uh the others present. So again, I'm callin' ya a liar."

"But ol' man Bristol was. . ."

SMACK!

"Ouch. Dern it." The gang member rubbed his cheek. "What'd ya up and do that for?"

"For bein' stupid." Blackjack raised the pistol again and conked him on the head.

The outlaw winced. "OK. OK. It was me. It was me. Please. Just don't hit me again with that there pistol."

Bristol caught the eye of the walloped culprit. "Told ya that hurt, didn't I?"

Blackjack sighed. "Shut your trap Bristol."

Bristol scoffed.

Blackjack returned his attention to the accused outlaw. "I will say it is amazin' the things that can turn a liar into a truth-teller, ain't it boys?" Bristol could see that the gang members were certain not to disagree.

Blackjack looked the guilty gang member in the eye. "I appreciate ya tryin' to help me out, but ya need to leave that sort-uh thing to me. It's real important our captives don't end up knocked out and unable to talk. You're just lucky ol' Bristol here's a tough nugget." Blackjack kicked the culprit in the shin causing him to howl like a coyote at the moon.

The outlaw caught his breath and spoke with quivering lips. "Yessir, I understand Mr. Blackjack. I'm real sorry 'bout that. I'll be lettin' you do that sort-uh thing from now on. I won't never touch another man less'n you say so."

Without shifting his eyes, Blackjack ripped off a shot into the guilty man's left boot; the bullet whizzed right between the outlaw's toes, grazed and burned them, and blew a hole through the bottom of the boot.

"Owwwww!" The outlaw bayed like a wolf.

"And that was for bein' a liar," said Blackjack. He pulled the outlaw in close and nonchalantly blew the smoke from the tip of the gun barrel into the gang member's face. Blackjack flipped the outlaw's pistol and handed it back to him, butt first. "First lyin' offense is always a miss on purpose. Second lyin' offense'll get ya killed." He shoved the gang member back into the lineup. But the injured outlaw could not hold still any longer. He hollered and hopped, clasping his aching foot with one hand while trying to put his pistol back into his holster with the other.

"I think we done took care-uh both crimes fair and square. Wouldn't y'all agree fellers?" Bristol watched every gang member confirm Blackjack's remark. Then he approached Bristol, who held firm with his teeth gritted, curling tight fists even with his wrists rope-tied to the chair. Blackjack grumbled, "Now ol' man, you're gonna tell us where we can figure on findin' that young boy."

"I ain't tellin' ya nothin!"

Blackjack scrubbed his beard and said, "Let's see, Cub's The Carrier, ain't he?"

Bristol did not move, but he was curious how Blackjack knew Cub's name.

"You're wonderin' just how I knowed his name, ain't ya?"

Bristol looked away.

Blackjack jerked Bristol's head back to face him. "It's like this. You'd already done been taken to the Palameetah when that other squirrely little feller hollered for Cub under the floor in your cabin. They was crawlin' away to somewhere. . ." Blackjack spun around Bristol and came right back in his face. ". . .along with that book. . .the talkin' Marshall Law book. . .I'm just shore."

Bristol puckered his face.

Blackjack continued. "And I 'spect there's a place they need to be at a certain time too." Blackjack's long leather coat creaked as he leaned in, his large hands pressing down on Bristol's fists. "Got any ideas?"

Bristol paused as he tried to make up a tale to throw Blackjack off course. When a story came to mind, he spoke. "How should I know? Cub couldn't get a grip on where he was when we was at my cabin, so I'm more'n shore he don't know where he is now. So how could I have any idee."

Blackjack rubbed his scrubby face. "Hmmmm. That almost sounds like the truth." He made another quick spin, faced Bristol, and asked, "What if'n I told ya I already know where the rendevous's to be and we're already there?"

"I'd say you're lyin'." Bristol tried to stomp his foot, but instead rocked the chair and it almost fell over. The outlaws laughed.

Blackjack ripped off a shot into the air to quiet the goons. "How can ya say that? Ya don't know where we are. . .do ya?"

Bristol saw his chance to try and bamboozle Blackjack further. "Maybe I don't, but maybe I do. How would ya know if'n I did or didn't?" Bristol laughed so hard he wheezed.

Blackjack became agitated. "I'm thinkin' ya ain't got no idea 'cause we done tracked and back-tracked for days, and ya had a hood over your head the whole time." Blackjack pulled Bristol toward him by the beard. "So I wouldn' laugh just yet ol' man."

"Why not? The thought and sight-uh of you and your stumblin' bunch here traipsin' 'round the Lower West tryin' not to get caught with a hooded man ya took hostage. . .well, it just makes me laugh. I laugh even harder when I think-uh the routes ya done had to take just to keep me out-uh sight." Bristol nodded at Blackjack's boots. "That there's mud from Longhorn Holler." He nodded again. "And that bunch-uh speckles is straight out-uh Thunder Bog." This time he stuck his tongue out to point. "And that mess-uh sand and clay that's stuck to your boot heels. . ." He made a point of looking extra hard at Blackjack's boots. ". . .yep, that's the same kind-uh sand ya find at the northern base-uh the Mustang Mountains. If'n you're tryin' to stay unnoticed, I'd have to say we done traveled just far 'nough to be in the vicinity-uh Gopher Gut."

Blackjack huffed. "You and me go way back ol' man. So don't think I wouldn't know when you're feedin' me a line of blunderpoke dip."

Bristol wheezed another laugh. "Oh, I s'pose ya would, but your wide eyes done give ya away. I can tell I done hit the nail on the head 'bout the travels and the where'bouts. And since we're in Gopher Gut, I'd be willin' to say we're in the basement-uh ol' man Stinkerbean's barn." He watched Blackjack's face turn beet red. "I'm right, ain't I?"

The outlaw gang backed up.

# Chapter 24

## Major Discoveries

Nighttime fell. Nash, Boyd, Night Crawler, and the Pee-Wees made their way to Gopher Gut.

"Where is everybody?" Nash asked.

Night Crawler answered. "Gopher Gut's one of them towns that's boomin' when all's goin' well. So this here's lettin' me know things ain't goin' so well here at the moment. After talkin' to Dugger, I figured this here was where Blackjack and his outlaw gang was headed with Bristol. All we need to do's lay low and look for any signs-uh life. My guess'd be they're in ol' man Stinkerbean's barn."

From the Pee-Wee's actions Nash could tell they were not surprised that Night Crawler had led them right to Stinkerbean's barn without any trouble. Night Crawler whispered. "I knew it. Look there." He pointed. "A faint light's comin' from that there basement window." He dismounted Shiner. "C'mon down Nash." Nash slid off as quietly as Nash could. Night Crawler whispered, "Wait here Boyd."

Night Crawler and Nash slunk on their bellies toward the moss-covered window to take a look. Nash peered through the dingy glass. He whispered in a panic, "It's Bristol all right. Blackjack's got him."

"He shore does, along with all-uh his outlaw losers. Lemme see if'n I can crack this window open so's we can hear." Nash shook with fear of being caught, but Night Crawler opened the window without a sound.

Bristol played it cool when he caught a quick glimpse of the window inching open before Blackjack stepped in front of him, blocking his view.

Nash and Night Crawler put their ears to the sliver of an opening.

After staring Bristol down, Blackjack stepped behind him. He tilted the chair back on two legs and bent over the old man, their faces now upside down to one another. Blackjack's foul, smokey breath crashed into Bristol's face. "I was the real Carrier."

Bristol choked. "The key word there's was. Now The Carrier's a feisty tike, and you're right, his name's Cub. But no matter how much ya think I'm gonna tell ya where he's headed, I cain't! And whether he took Marshall Law with 'im when he escaped your fury back at my cabin's a mystery to me. I straight up ain't got no idee."

Blackjack gave Bristol a shove and the chair landed back on all four legs. Blackjack took off his hat and fiddled with it as he paced. "It's all 'cause-uh SUL." He added drama with hand gestures when he said, "Marshall was in my hands up in Copper Junction; I'd gotten through most-uh the good stuff in that high falutin' know-it-all book. Shoot, even the map was appearin'. Then all at once the map faded, the book vanished out-uh my hands, and Copper Junction fell through. And it all happened just 'fore I got to the part tellin' me where The Element's s'posed to be found and the place it's s'posed to be put in showed up on the map." He paced some more.

Bristol said, "I know exactly what happened, but I wanna hear it straight from the horse's mouth, and I'm shore your gang'd love the tale." There was dead silence. Bristol spoke up. "Well, c'mon. We're all innersted in your pity story. Let's hear the rest."

"Shut up!" Blackjack raised a backhand at Bristol, who cowered, but Blackjack did not slap him for some reason. "Once the Lower West was complete and things started gettin' 'round to some kind-uh normal, I asked SUL where the map and book went, but He wouldn't give me no answer. He just told me He was gonna give Marshall to somebody He could trust." Blackjack glared at Bristol. "Who knew it'd be you?" He turned, walked away and proceeded to roll a cigarette.

"Well, shorely not me. . .til SUL told me where Marshall was and sent me to fetch 'im. Then I found out more 'bout you when I read a note from SUL that was clay-stuck to Marshall's cover."

Blackjack stomped back over to Bristol. "What was in that note? Why'd SUL take the book from me?"

"Uh. . .let's see. . .hmmm. . .uh. . .there was somethin' 'bout ya wantin' to find The Element and bring wicked stuff to the forefront and take over. Somethin' like that."

"I never spoke 'bout my intentions out loud. How could some ol' fool Grand Wizard even know 'bout that when He lives up on Maycly?" He took a long drag on his cigarette and let the smoke seep through his nose.

"If you'd-uh listened to your ma and pa, you'd know SUL ain't 'bout wicked; He's 'bout Good. And He ain't no slouch when it comes to hearin' what you're sayin' on the inside as well as the out."

"That's enough out-uh ya ol' man. Muzzle it!"

Bristol ignored Blackjack's request and yammered on. "What I been stewin' on is how ya knew I had Marshall, 'cause in the note SUL said He didn't tell ya."

More frustrated than a stirred up hornet's nest, Blackjack hollered, "I just happened to be hidin' in a barrel no more'n five feet away the night ya dug up Marshall."

"What in tarnation was ya doin' hidin' in a barrel? There weren't no gun fight goin' on that I recall."

"None-uh your business. But it worked to my advantage, didn't it?"

Bristol taunted Blackjack. "I don't know, did it? 'Cause I ain't got the book."

CRASH! The window gave way. Night Crawler and Nash fell through and landed with a heavy thud.

"Run Nash!" shouted Bristol. Nash took off but found himself treading air when an outlaw caught him and lifted him up before he could reach the stairs.

Night Crawler was quick with a knife and freed Bristol. For once, Night Crawler was glad Nash was screaming, as it was distracting Blackjack and the outlaws.

Bristol came out of the chair reaching for his pistols, but his hands met with empty holsters. He could not see over top of the mayhem, but he caught a glimpse of his six-shooters on a heap of crates. He had been sitting on the palameetah and then was tied to that chair for so long, his legs would not cooperate. He shouted to Night Crawler, "Throw me!" He pointed and hollered, "Over there." Night Crawler picked up Bristol and tossed him at the stack of old feed bins. He landed with a smashing halt. He ransacked through the busted wood and found his pistols among the broken slats, grabbed them and started shooting—but there were no bullets. He reached in his secret pocket for a few bullets, and looked up as he loaded his gun. "Look out Nighty!"

Night Crawler ducked in the nick of time to avoid getting clobbered by Blackjack's roundhouse punch. Night Crawler made a precision turn and wrapped up Blackjack in a full-Nelson—standing. The entire outlaw gang came running to help Blackjack get loose, but Night Crawler was too much for them. He stabbed a couple of them, kicked some of them in the gut, and head-butted others. He re-situated Blackjack in his arms and whirled a few turns, using Blackjack's legs to knock more of the outlaws unconscious.

The ruckus came to an end. Night Crawler had dropped all of them to the floor, except Blackjack.

Boyd shouted from the broken window, "Up here guys!" He dropped a rope down that was tied to Pancake's saddle. "Grab on and hang on!"

Nash was lying under the outlaw who had had him dangling. He kicked the limp body off of himself, stood, and dashed for the rope, screaming like a girl. Bristol could see that Night Crawler seemed to be handling things just fine on his own, so he climbed over the knocked-out felons and met Nash at the rope. They both grabbed hold and gave the OK signal.

Boyd yelled. "Hyah! Pull! Pull!" Nash and Bristol's feet left the ground, and up and out the window they went.

Buck and Trixie raced to greet Bristol. Sparkles exploded. Bristol laughed and said, "I always knowed ya was a couple-uh real firecrackers, and your snappin' sparkles just go to prove it!" He plucked the Pee-Wees from the air and gently patted them on their heads.

Buck said, "Hey Bristol, we got somebody here for ya." He sped off, Trixie right behind him.

In the light of the sparkles Bristol made out a shape. "Oooo-eeeee doggies! Pancake ol' boy." He raced to his pal. He rubbed Pancake's nose and was delighted to hear a contented blunderpoke sound. Bristol looked at everyone. "It's so plum good to see y'all!" He tried to look around some more but was blinded.

Still excited, Trixie and Buck hollered as they slammed into Bristol's face and kissed his nose, "We're just so glad to see ya alive!" Trixie said.

"And it's darn-tootin' good to be alive." Both Pee-Wees were flying back and forth and in and out of his beard so fast their sparkle trails resembled solid flames. When the sparkles let up, Bristol asked, "Where's Cub? Where's Marshall?"

Nash scowled. "We split up back at Pie Hole. Cub left a note sayin' that if'n it come down to it, he'd have to save the planet instead-uh his friend. I'm gettin' kind-uh used to that."

"Well then, that boy's got a lot more sense to 'im than meets the eye."

"Whadda ya mean Bristol? He left us high and dry!"

"Oh, Nash. Stop your whinin'. Come to your senses and open your eyes boy. Cub left you in charge 'cause he has a job to do, and he knew ya was more'n capable-uh findin' me and rescuin' me."

"Really? Ya think that's it?"

"Nah. . ." Bristol paused just long enough to ruffle Nash's feathers. "I know that's it!"

Cowboy Boyd scooped Nash up in his arms and swung him around. "Yeehaw! Thanks to our hero, Nash, Bristol's safe and sound!"

Bristol, knowing everyone in the Lower West, asked, "And who might you be?"

A friendly hand extended for a shake. "I'm Nash's buddy, Boyd."

"Pleased ta meet ya cowboy." Bristol returned a firm handshake.

Boyd said, "I'm part-uh the Bristol Posse. Ya see, when Cub and Nash come through to the Lower West, me and a few others ran off and. . ."

Bristol cut Boyd off. "I believe ya. And any friend-uh Nash's is a friend-uh mine. But we ain't got. . .wait a minute. Did ya say the Bristol Posse? What in tarnation's that?"

Nash answered, "When we banded together to come find ya, that's what we named ourselves. . .well, that's what Cub named us." He scrunched his mouth.

"Well I'll be. That makes a man purdy humble havin' a entire posse named after 'im." He shook his head then picked up where he had left off. "But we ain't got a lot-uh time for stories right now. We need to get out-uh here. We'll head to Marshall's Gap and lay low to let things calm down, then we'll head on over to Boulder Dache and hook back up with Cub and Marshall." He paused in thought then continued. "Not sure why both-uh you Pee-Wees is here."

Nash blurted, "It's 'cause Cub took Marshall and snuck off when we wasn't lookin'."

Bristol said, "I thought ya just said ya split up in Pie Hole."

Nash kicked the dirt. "We did. But it wasn't by choice. We all woke up and found Cub and Marshall gone. They left us a note. . ."

"A right nice note," interjected Trixie.

"I s'pose it was. But the deal is. . ."

Bristol butted in, "The deal is, we ain't got much time. And Cub and Marshall shouldn't be out there without a Pee-Wee Flyer." He turned to the Pee-Wees. "Trixie, I think it'd be best if'n you'd head toward Boulder Dache to try and find Cub and Marshall. I'm shore they'd favor a Pee-Wee's help gettin' 'em into Boulder Dache."

Trixie straightened and said, "You're prob'ly right." She turned to Buck, who was welling up. "Now don't go gettin' all sappy on me mister. Ya know we gotta make shore everything comes together for SUL. I trust Bristol to hear SUL from the inside. Don't you?"

Buck nodded. "Shore do."

"So if'n SUL wants us to split up so both Nash and Cub have a Pee-Wee Flyer for assistance, then ya know it's gotta be done."

Bristol gave one solid nod to the Pee-Wees to confirm what Trixie had said.

Buck squinted his eyes to clear the tears, wiped his nose, then planted a big kiss on Trixie's lips; it was big enough it even made Bristol blush. Buck said, "OK darlin'. But do be careful." He hugged his Pee-Wee gal. "And make shore ya keep watchin' for me and the rest to show up in Boulder Dache. We will get there, Trix, sooner or later."

Trixie hugged Buck so tight he let out a little grunt. She said, "I love ya with all my Pee-Wee heart, Buck. Ya know I'll keep watchin'." She wiped her own eyes then sped off in the direction of Boulder Dache.

"What 'bout Night Crawler?" Nash was sincere.

Bristol was quick to answer. "Ol' Nighty can take care-uh hisself. He's got who he wants, that bein' Blackjack. Been a big bounty out on 'is head for a long time, and Nighty deserves to be the bounty hunter who brings 'im in." He could tell his answer had satisfied everyone.

They loaded up in no time. Nash was last to climb onto Pancake's back. "Hyah!" shouted Bristol. "Hyah!" echoed the others, and off they poked.

Blackjack's trotter boxes*46 scudded hard as Night Crawler dragged him in a choke-hold toward the stairs. Blackjack gurgled an offer, "Hey Nighty. Whadda ya say we settle this like real men."

"Why?"

"Put yourself in my boots. Would ya really wanna to be turned over to the law, or would ya rather be given a chance to make things right?"

Night Crawler stopped and tightened his grip. "I don't give a toffer's*47 hanky what ya think right now. All I care 'bout's turnin' ya in and gettin' my well deserved reward. And right 'bout now, I'm thinkin' I'll ask for double, 'cause there ain't no doubt I'll get it when I tell 'em where your men are. Oh, and just so's ya know, ain't a one-uh them lamebrains armed now." Night Crawler shook the feed sack full of pistols and knives in his other hand.

Blackjack went sweet. "C'mon. Why should two growed men be actin' this way?"

"'Cause you're an outlaw and I'm a bounty hunter." Night Crawler started hauling Blackjack up the stairs.

Blackjack expressed an idea. "I know. . .how's 'bout we have a shootout?"

Night Crawler stopped and let Blackjack's legs dangle. "A shootout? Now what'd make ya wanna get into a shootout with a gunslinger like me? I mean, I'm a much better gun fighter'n you. I'm bigger'n you. Certainly a WHOLE lot smarter'n you." He readjusted Blackjack, who was slipping from his grip. "But then again, killin' ya'd be a lot-uh fun." He thumped Blackjack up a few more stairs as he talked. "It'd be mighty enjoyable. Right after ya bite the ground, maybe even 'fore you're dead, I could be gougin' out your eyes and cuttin' off a few-uh your fingers and toes to take to Dugger for some extra gold 'fore droppin' off your stiff body to the law."

Blackjack hooked his spurs into a step to stop Night Crawler. Night Crawler only pulled harder. Blackjack sounded desperate. "Now hold on a minute."

Night Crawler just kept pulling and talking. "I don't think you're in any position to be tellin' me what to do."

"But I was just gonna say that. . ."

They reached the top of the stairs, and Night Crawler slung Blackjack out into the night.

"I was just gonna say that. . ."

Night Crawler walked over and kicked the villain in the side a couple of times. "Shut up Blackjack!" He pressed his boot into Blackjack's face. "I don't care what ya was just gonna say, 'cause after what you and your lousy excuses for outlaws done to my friends, the thought-uh eliminatin' ya with one shot between the eyes and deliverin' your parts to Dugger. . .well that's soundin' sweet the longer I think 'bout it. Meet me on Main Street in Marshall's Gap at sundown tomorrow. Ya got that?" He pressed his boot a mite harder into Blackjack's cheek.

Blackjack spit the dirt from his dry mouth. Blood ran from his broken nose. He choked on his words. "Yeah. I got it. But you'll be sorry."

Night Crawler lifted his boot, and began to walk away. When Blackjack raised himself up to his hands and knees, Night Crawler came back and kicked him in the butt, causing him to hit the dirt, face first, one more time. "And now that I think 'bout it, I don't want ya followin' me." Night Crawler dragged Blackjack once more, this time to the nearest tree and tied him up, loose enough so he could escape, but tight enough so Night Crawler could be long gone before Blackjack was free.

Nash and the others pulled into Marshall's Gap and found a room they could share at one of the hotels. It had a few mice, and the curtains were torn, but it held three cots and had two pitchers of water, one for washing and one for drinking.

Everyone settled in with ease, all except for Nash. His head was filled with excitement and racing thoughts. That shore was somethin' today. They called me their hero. WOW! I can't wait to see the look on Cub's face when I tell 'im what all's been happenin'. I know he'll be proud-uh me for findin' Bristol and for gettin' everybody to Boulder Dache. And he'll be so surprised at seein' Boyd and. . . The next thing Nash knew, the sun had come up.

# Chapter 25

## A Matter of Trust

Cub, Marshall, and Little Sadie reminisced over a few more stories, got some rest, then Little Sadie led them out of Looter's Caverns on the northwest corner; this dumped them just shy of Ten Gallon Town on the edge of Scrubby Woods. Little Sadie was doing her best to convince Cub and Marshall, "The two-uh ya's need to stay hidden while I go into town and get some food and top off these here canteens."

"I don't know 'bout that. I think I better go with ya," Cub argued.

"But Cubster, I don't want ya gettin' caught, and Marshall's purdy obvious."

"I know he is, but I ain't. At least I don't think I am. And with as old as ya are, ya could pass as my grandma."

"Hey, watch it, ya little whippersnapper."

"Well, ya could."

"Yeah, I could, I just don't think that's too smart a move, ya know, leavin' Marshall here in the woods. . .alone."

"He's done it before and he'll do it again, won't ya Marshall?"

"You had better believe it. Now tuck me away in a hollow tree, and I promise I will not snore." Cub watched Marshall's dry-rotted leather split when he smiled. Cub smiled back.

After a few more rounds of the same conversation, Little Sadie finally agreed to let Cub go with her; she would pass him off as her grandson.

Cub could not find a hollow tree, but he did find a dugout spot beneath the large roots of a tree in which to conceal Marshall. "And don't snore!" he reminded Marshall one more time.

Marshall could see Cub's courage dwindling and said, "I will stay here and I promise I will not snore." He wiggled a bit to situate himself. "Cub, be careful." He whispered, "I am not sure why Little Sadie really did not want to take either of us with her, but she certainly was insistent about it."

"I ain't gonna do nothin' stupid."

"I am not saying you will do anything stupid, I am merely saying watch your back, keep your eyes on her, and keep your ears open to what she is saying. Remember, she has been associating with some real roughnecks."

Cub nodded. "Thanks Marshall. I already done figured that out. I never really trusted her back in Copper Junction, and I ain't plannin' on startin' now."

Marshall chuckled.

A shrill voice pierced the air. "C'mon Cubster. I'm gettin' mighty hungry, and I'd like to get back here 'fore dark."

Cub looked at Marshall, rolled his eyes and said, "Girls. Ugh!" Then he ran to catch up with Little Sadie. They traveled along the edge of the forest and barely across Big Sky Prairie's north end into Ten Gallon Town.

"Take my hand."

"No."

"Am I gonna pose as your grandma or not? Ain't ya still only ten years old? Now take my hand."

Cub gave Little Sadie a limp fish*48, and they headed for the saloon. Cub was uneasy as he and Little Sadie were being watched like hawks, just as he had been back in Chaps. Kids were few in the Lower West, and nobody brought kids into saloons.

Cub could feel every eye on them as they walked in and took a seat in the back by a window.

A sassy gal dressed in a shiny hot pink and black satin low-cut corset and fluffy short skirt approached their table. Cub was mesmerized by how coal black, curly, and piled-high her hair was. An ostrich feather in her headband, which she had added for flair, wiggled in the breeze. Cub sensed Little Sadie was jealous of the gal's ruby red lipstick, and that was not all.

"Can I get ya somethin' to drink or eat? Ya do look kind-uh hungry."

Before Cub could speak Little Sadie was ordering. "Bring me a shot-uh your best, and the boy an iced mug-uh sweet tea. And we'll take a pot full-uh lentils and red caps."

"We can do that." The brightly dressed gal looked at them, perplexed. "What's your name?"

"Little Sadie. This here's my grandson, Hank. He's a rascal and a hand full. I don't call him Hanky-Malanky for nothin'." She let loose a cackle. Cub cringed.

The saloon broad sized up Cub. "Well, he's a cute little hunk-uh man." She winked.

Cub's face scrunched up. "Ewww," he murmured, and scooted closer to Little Sadie.

Little Sadie set her straight. "He's a boy, he ain't no man, so don't go drippin' any-uh your cunnin' ways on 'im."

"Who me?" She batted her long eye lashes. "It'd never cross my mind. Funny though, I ain't never seen either-uh ya's here in the Lower West. And I get around. . ."

Little Sadie cut her off. "I'll bet ya do." Her jealousy had escaped through her sarcasm.

The gal turned smug and continued. "As I was sayin', I get around the Lower West 'cause I've business to tend to in every town and holler, so's I ride the train quite often."

Little Sadie glared at her.

Cub hung his head; he did not want any trouble. The crass woman flipped around, making certain her skirt ruffles graced Cub's head. When she was far enough away not to hear Cub, he said, "She seems nice 'nough, I guess."

Little Sadie pounded her fist on the table. "Well she ain't!"

Cub saw everyone turn and look. "Ya need ta keep it down."

She wriggled in her seat, clearly embarrassed by her lapse in judgment. "I'll keep it down when I want to."

"OK. OK. Sorry"

Little Sadie heeded Cub's warning and whispered, "So don't go thinkin' we're here to make friends. Trust me, the only way I know 'bout this place is from listenin' to the looters who frequent it between cavern drops. When our eats gets here, just gobble 'em up and we'll go back to gather up Mar. . .Mr. Law. . .and move on. Ya hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear ya." He leaned in closer and whispered in Little Sadie's ear, "I don't care how old ya are now, you'll always be the Little Sadie I remember. I guess I should-uh let ya kiss me that night at the Function, then none-uh this would-uh happened."

Cub saw Little Sadie blush. She said, "Ah, Cubster, don't worry 'bout nothin'. We're gonna be OK. I ain't gonna turn ya over to Blackjack. . .though the thought did cross my mind when I heard how much you'n that book's worth. I gotta be honest, I wanted to leave the two-uh ya's hidin', then find Blackjack and tell him where ya was. But somehow, I just couldn't. And I cain't bring myself to it now. I b'lieve I already done got my reward, gettin' to be with ya again."

She blew Cub a kiss, and strangely he caught it and pasted it to his cheek without thinking. "I didn't mean to do that. I just always did that when Ma blew me a kiss."

"I think it's kind-uh sweet." She reached out and pinched Cub's cheek.

Cub pushed her hand away. "Ya shore ya won't stab us in the back and try to claim the bounty for me and. . .Mr. Law?"

"Cub, I'm shore."

"I mean really shore? Like cross your heart and hope to die kind-uh shore? 'Cause if'n this gets messed up, it'll ruin everything. Ya know, the stalactite and socket and cave and, I don't know what all. Are ya really, really shore?"

Little Sadie made an "X" over her heart with her finger. "Cross my heart and hope to die. Yes Cub, I'm shore." Cub knew when he looked into her eyes that she was not lying.

He asked, "Do ya s'pose since you're old 'nough to be my grandma, and we're in here and you're actin' like my grandma, that ya could just go ahead and stay my grandma? I sure do miss my ma and pa, and you're the closet thing to family I got left, Little Sadie."

Little Sadie's eyes watered. "Cub, your innocence is humblin'. It's amazin' how long it's been and ya still possess the traits of a ten-year-old seekin' a parent's love, or a grandparent's for that matter." She wiped away Cub's tears then wiped away her own. "'Course I can be your grandma. In fact I'd be honored. Shoot, who knows, we may-uh been family if'n we was still in Copper Junction, gettin' married and havin' kids-uh our own. I never loved nobody but you, Cub. I kind-uh promised myself I wouldn't take to likin' another boy, just in case ya ever come back."

Cub wrinkled a half-smile.

Little Sadie continued, laughing through her words. "I guess life has a way-uh mixin' things up, ya know, addin' a little spice. And after all these years, look at us. . .ya never come back, but here we are, back together. So I don't see no reason why I cain't be your grandma instead-uh your wife." She leaned in and whispered. "But do me one favor."

Cub pinched a word past the lump in his throat. "Anything."

"Please don't call me Grandma less'n we're in a purdicament where ya need to."

"What's a pur-dicament?"

"It's kind-uh like the situation we're in now. People don't need to be knowin' who ya are for real. All they need to know is you're my grandson Hank." Cub thought for a minute about what Little Sadie had said. After a few seconds his bobbing head and smile let her know he had caught on.

Cub and Little Sadie ate and drank as fast as they could so they could get out of there. Cub asked Little Sadie to get a canteen of sweet tea for Marshall. Confident, she pulled it off without a hitch telling the gal, "It's for my extra-thirsty grandson here." Little Sadie tilted her head toward Cub a couple of times. She got the canteen filled with sweet tea and they left. She found out when they got back to Marshall, who was safe and sound, that Cub was still the occasional ornery ten-year-old he had always been, as he drank all of the sweet tea and Marshall never squawked.

Cub put Marshall's backpack over his shoulders, then he took Little Sadie's hand and held it tight. "We ready?" asked Cub.

"We shore are."

"Then let's get goin' to Boulder Dache."

# Chapter 26

## "Holy Whah!"

Cub, Marshall, and Little Sadie stopped to nap under the lush trees of Alpine Stretch. They arose early the next morning to golden sun rays piercing through a woodsy-scented mist. They readied themselves and headed out for what they hoped would be the last leg of their journey. Cub put Marshall's backpack on his front side so he could keep a tight grip on him with both hands and not look suspicious.

In a bit of time Cub heard a thundering sound in the distance. He pulled Marshall out from his chest and asked, "What is all that racket?"

"It is the ever-flowing moat around Boulder Dache. I forgot to tell you; we will need to make certain we find Booger to get us across. Booger is the best," said Marshall.

"Booger? Why do I wanna trust somebody named after somethin' that comes out-uh my nose?"

''Cause Marshall said so, that's why."

When Cub heard Little Sadie answer in her girlish know-it-all tone he felt queasy. After staring her down Cub asked, "Well then, where do we need to be? I can't wait for the chance to meet this guy. Is he green?" Cub laughed at his own joke.

"Who said anything 'bout Booger bein' a guy?" asked Little Sadie. "And NO, SHE ain't green."

"Well, I just figured with as fast as the water sounds like it's movin', it'd take a boy. . .well, a man. . .with muscles to get us 'cross to Boulder Dache. That's all."

Cub jerked back when Trixie flew at him and stopped within a fraction of an inch of his nose. She shouted, "Now just a minute there ya young tyrant. Us girls-uh the Lower West are stronger'n most boys." She looked at Little Sadie. "Ain't that right?"

Little Sadie jumped back.

Cub rubbed his eyes and let out a yahoo. "Where'd YOU come from?"

"It's a long story Cub." Trixie began to pace through the air with drama. "My wings got caught up in a tumbleweed and I rolled all the way here. Can ya imagine the whirlin' and twirlin'?" She did a couple of sporadic flips. "I could hear Buck just a-screamin'—sounded like Nash to be honest—as I bumbled and bounced 'cross the land. I hollered and told him to stay with Nash, and we'd all meet up in Boulder Dache. Ya see, I knew which way the wind was blowin' and all, and I knew ya'd need the assistance of a Pee-Wee Flyer sooner rather'n later. . .so here I am!" She curtsied.

"Ya shore Nash or Buck or Night Crawler didn't put ya up to this? Just so's Marshall and I'd have a Pee-Wee on our side?" Cub grinned.

Trixie was quick to answer. "Well, maybe. But I think my tumbleweed story sounds a lot more excitin'. . .don't you?"

Cub laughed.

Trixie continued, "But wait till ya hear Nash's story. . .it's far better'n mine. . .and IT'S true!"

Cub gasped then shouted, "Did he find Bristol?"

"I can't say for sure, but he was doin' his best to track him down. I think he was gettin' purdy close." She batted her eyes. "As bad as I wanna tell ya, it's Nash's place to get the glory for the story." She changed the subject. "Who's the purdy lady ya got with ya?" Trixie flew to Little Sadie and hovered in the air in front of her face.

Cub saw Little Sadie stiffen. He laughed. "Why Trixie, do I sense some jealousy in that little voice-uh yours?"

Trixie blushed.

Cub looked at Little Sadie and said, "Don't get all willy-fied. Trixie ain't no bug. She's a Pee-Wee Flyer, and she's real nice, too."

Trixie pulled out her pistols and shot them into the air. "I'm the rootin-tootinist Pee-Wee gal in the Lower West. . ." She buzzed right in front of Little Sadie's eyes. ". . .and don't ya forget it!" Trixie held the stare while the tiny pistols dropped from over her head into the holsters on their own, then she backed off.

Cub shook his head and said, "Trixie, meet Little Sadie; Little Sadie, meet Trixie."

"Ya mean this is the Little Sadie I overheard ya talkin' to Marshall 'bout?" She looked at Little Sadie. "What are ya, 'bout a hundred and somethin'?"

Cub knew those were fightin' words*49, so he jumped in and said, "Trixie, where's your manners? No she ain't a hundred and somethin', she's only 79. And yeah it's that Little Sadie. And whadda ya mean ya overheard me talkin' to Marshall 'bout her?"

"Just never you mind." Trixie took Little Sadie's finger and flew up and down for a Pee-Wee handshake. Her jealousy was satisfied watching Little Sadie go green around the gills at her touch. "It's a pleasure to meet ya m'am." Trixie let go and curtsied.

Very hesitant, Little Sadie answered, "The pleasure's all mine."

Trixie buzzed over and landed on Little Sadie's shoulder just to be ornery. She felt Little Sadie tense up, so she said in a syrupy voice, "I can keep a better watch from up here."

Little Sadie looked at Cub, who was trying hard not to laugh. Trixie leaned back, crossed her legs, and winked at Cub.

Cub was enjoying the scene; he used to love pestering Little Sadie with bugs. But as much as he wanted to linger in the moment, he needed to get down to business.

Trixie spoke up. "I say we get on over to the rapids and see LADY Booger and hitch us a ride on that ferry." She looked at Cub with a smug expression.

"But I wanna know 'bout my friends."

"We ain't got the time."

"But. . ."

"But nothin'." Trixie cleared her throat. "C'mon. We need to get to Booger so we don't miss the ferry."

Cub sighed. "Fine." He crossed his arms and frowned. He heard SUL from within, urging him not to worry and to keep going, as time was wasting. Cub lightened up and carried on. "And if'n Booger's a girl, I don't care." In fun he stuck his tongue out at Trixie. "I just wanna get 'cross the rapids and into Boulder Dache."

Marshall coaxed Cub to look at him. He unzipped a smile and spoke, "I might warn you, Booger is Dugger's sweetie pie. So treat her right. If you think Dugger has strange ways, wait until you meet his dolly, Booger."

"Ewwwww! Dugger's got a wife? That just ain't right. I don't even wanna think 'bout that." Cub shuddered at the visual he had in his head.

"Enough." Marshall said. "We need to be just west of the train tracks."

"OK then, let's get goin'." Cub pressed Marshall back into his chest, and they headed north following the train tracks.

"Well howdy folks." The crackling voice gave Cub the creeps.

"Howdy ma'am. We'd like to get over to Boulder Dache please." Cub was hoping the trip across the raging water would go fast.

"Shore thing sonny. But ya's ain't s'pectin' to go for free, are ya's?"

"Uh, I don't know. I guess I hadn't really thought 'bout it. What'll it cost?"

"Hmmmm. How's 'bout we don't talk money, but rather what's in your backpack. I'm always up for a good trade."

Cub froze at the thought of revealing Marshall. He watched Booger flick the dried-out fingers, toes, and eyeballs she had hanging from a thin leather strip around her neck. Booger asked, "How's 'bout I give ya a couple-uh extra fingers an' a eyeball, then you pick somethin' out-uh that backpack-uh yourn to give me?" She fluttered her crusty eye lashes.

Cub felt relief when Trixie buzzed in. "How 'bout ya forget that nasty ol' backpack and take my bandana. It makes for a special bargainin' chip when it comes to the saloons. Ain't too many Pee-Wee Flyers here in the Lower West, so there ain't too many Pee-Wee Flyer bandanas. Ya get my drift? Whadda ya say? It's worth far more'n anything a ten-year-old boy'd have in his backpack. Don't ya think?" Trixie started untying her bandana and Cub held his breath, hoping Trixie had saved the day.

"Hmmmm. A Pee-Wee Flyer bandana. You're right. There ain't too many-uh those down here." Booger chewed her lip then answered. "DEAL!" Cub let out a sigh of relief; he was glad Booger was too busy with Trixie to hear it.

"Then hop on board and hang on!" shouted Booger.

Cub had never held Marshall so tight. Trixie rode in the pocket on the backpack, and Little Sadie held onto Cub for dear life.

The dilapidated raft rocked and rolled. Water slopped up over the edges. Cub was anxious at the sight of Booger operating the makeshift rudder. Boy! Will I ever be glad when we get to the other side, Cub thought. Even though Cub could see the other side before they had boarded the raft, he still was not sure how this was going to work. He closed his eyes and leaned hard into Little Sadie for comfort.

BANG! The raft hit the shoreline. "Now go on. Hurry up! I cain't hold it here all day. Whatever business y'all're tendin' to here in Boulder Dache, I wish ya's the best. Thank ya so kindly for floatin' on the Booger Barge." She tipped her sweat-stained hat.

Cub grimaced, hopped from the raft and never looked back.

Cub felt ten times better when they made it into the heart of Boulder Dache. He was more than ready to start looking for the cave and get on with his Carrier duties. He did not want to let SUL down.

He and the others hoofed it up Main Street. The hotfoot-paced town wreaked of smokers' blends, booze, and some other unidentifiable smell. A tike from the Boulder Dache Chronicle skipped up and down the dusty thoroughfare, in and out of the crowd, shouting, "Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Shootout in Marshal's Gap! Sundown tomorrow night! Extra! Extra!"

In a panic, Trixie darted every which way in front of Cub's face, looking into the distance. She let loose a rapid fire of words, "A shootout in Marshall's Gap? I'm glad we ain't there, and I shore hope Nash and Buck ain't neither." She kept zipping back and forth in the air.

Cub caught her and held her gently.

She clasped her hands and looked at Cub with her big blue, sad, puppy dog eyes. "Sorry Cub. But I don't know exactly where Buck and Nash are." She was shaking.

Cub tried to calm her. "It'll be OK. I don't think ya need to worry 'bout 'em. Night Crawler's purdy smart. He'll be watchin' over 'em, and I'm sure he already knows 'bout the gunfight. 'Specially if'n every town has a loud-mouthed paper boy like this one. I'll bet they're on their way here right now and avoidin' Marshall's Gap at all costs."

"I hope you're right. Maybe it's just a bad case-uh of the Pee-Wee jitters, but I still got a funny feelin' 'bout it."

As the sky turned to its most vivid ambers and pinks Cub said, "Hey Marshall, we need to find someplace where I can take a look at that map again." Cub felt Marshall slide to the left in his backpack. Cub looked that direction and saw nothing but ruckus. Marshall made a more exaggerated scoot to the left again. Cub took a harder look, past the brawls and bustle. "Ya mean that abandoned buildin' out back-uh the saloon?" Cub felt Marshall nod.

The door was hanging on one hinge by a chunk of rust, but it worked nonetheless. Cub was careful to make certain no one saw them enter the shack. The dim inside reminded him of their old clubhouse back in Copper Junction. It made him miss Nash, Boyd, his other friends, and his family a little worse. He spied a lantern and a pack of matches right by the door. He lit a match and touched it to the lantern's wick.

Little Sadie screamed, "Cub!"

Cub froze.

Trixie made tracks to Cub's head and hid behind one of his ears.

Marshall did not know what to think; all he could see were the buttons on Cub's shirt.

"Holy whah! Ye must be Cub!" belted out a small man who popped up from behind a bale of straw. A voice rang from overhead. "It's Cub all right. It just has to be. Look at him. He's got that look. I'm certain it's him." BING-de-BANG! CLUNK! THUD! The one who had just spoken came crashing down from the rafters and struck an illuminated pose between the unfamiliar small man and a bundle of twelve-foot tall cornstalks.

Digging his fingers deep into the sides of Marshall's backpack Cub asked, "Who are you guys? And how do ya know my name?"

The small man came out from behind the straw bale. "I be Artie. We were. . ."

"Don't come any closer!" Cub's face had never held such an expression. "I mean it. I've got the rootin'-tootin'ist Pee Wee Flyer on my head, and I ain't afraid to use her!"

Trixie sizzled high into the air and shot off her tiny pistols in an attempt to frighten the unfamiliar ones.

"Aye. Aye. I willna be a-comin' any closer." Artie looked up. "And that be a pretty special Pee-Wee Flyer ye got there. What be yer name l'il one?"

"Trixie's the name. Shootin' strangers's my game." She aimed her half-inch pistols at Artie.

"Trixie, you're barkin' at a knot*50 here. Have ya sized up the other guy with the wings? I don't think you're gonna make a dent in either one."

Trixie backed off.

Marshall whispered to Cub, "The other guy with the wings? What do his wings look like?"

Cub answered as if he were still talking to Trixie. "I mean look at them wings. They're taller'n the roof-uh this here shack. And they light up and everything. I ain't never seen a livin' thing that looks like him."

Marshall whispered again, "And the other one—Artie. What does he look like?"

Cub was on his game, again directing his words as if they were for Trixie, "And Artie, well, Artie may be short and talk with a funny brogue, but he looks like a purdy burly cowboy to me with them boots and that cowboy hat he's wearin'."

"Cub, turn me around!" shouted Marshall.

Cub did just that, no questions asked. Then he realized what he had done, and the familiar rock hit the pit in his stomach.

Marshall unzipped a big smile. "Cub, take me out of my backpack please."

"Ya shore 'bout this?"

"You bet I am. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity down here in the Lower West. Now hurry, let me out."

When Cub set Marshall down on the ground he wobble-walked right up to Artie.

Artie moved back a step or two and spoke, "And ye must be Marshall." His eyes were deadlocked on the book. "Ye be just as amazin' as SUL described ye ta be in me instructions." Artie gaped some more. "What an honor it be ta meet ye." He stuck out a hand for a handshake. . .then realized that would not work.

"Yes. I am Marshall Law, and it is a pleasure to meet you, too. I have been wondering where you have been. I could hardly wait to meet you. When SUL said you were coming, I was elated! I always thought I would have to wait until I got to Maycly to see chukkons. This is a real treat."

Artie smiled back at Marshall. "Be it far from me ta be a-questionin' SUL's ways."

"Would you mind picking me up and setting me on that straw bale?"

"Nae, not at all." When Artie took hold of Marshall, Trixie sped to him and tried to pull his grasping fingers from the book.

"Let go-uh him, ya short, straw-ridden bandit!" Trixie yanked and jerked.

Artie let go of Marshall and chuckled at Trixie, still hanging onto one of his fingers, grunting and nearly frothing at the mouth. He laughed again and said, "Ye be a-remindin' me of some really good friends back home on Maycly. They be just as full of vim and vigor as ye. I appreciate ye a-wantin' ta protect yer friends. That be a sure trait of Good."

Marshall added, "Trixie, it is fine. I know who these fellows are, and I know why they are here. And trust me when I say they mean no harm. They are straight from Maycly." Trixie let go of Artie's finger. Marshall continued. "They have been sent. . ."

Cub had sensed the inward voice of SUL and broke in, "They been sent by SUL to protect us. They really are from Maycly! Artie's a chukkon. . .a real live chukkon."

Cub turned and looked at the winged man wearing upscale town duds*51. "And if'n that's the case, you must be The Man Behind The Dumpster. You're real rare like Marshall here. I know ya are 'cause Ma and Pa'd tell me tales 'bout ya, and how ya'd have somethin' to do with The Carrier some day. I used to draw pictures-uh ya for fun. . .but ya look a lot better in real life. You're part man and part etherealian, ain't ya?"

The half-man/half-etherealian dealt a gut laugh, did a barn dance move, and answered, "I am, I am! I'm The Man Behind The Dumpster." He bent over and put his face in Cub's. "But all my friends call me Dumpster Man. So please, be my friend." He winked and, with an exaggerated motion, stuck out his hand for a handshake. Cub extended the same, and the two became instant friends.

Artie stacked a second bale of straw on the first and placed Marshall on top so they were now at eye level. Cub had never seen Marshall glow so bright.

Marshall was in awe. He whispered, "It cannot be. It just cannot be. Artie, the last-born chukkon to Ensio and Rachana at Maycly's creation." Smiling and obviously star-struck, Marshall looked past Artie and said, "What an honor to have you, too, Dumpster Man, in my sight."

"My pleasure." Dumpster Man performed a magnificent bow, his wings scraping the ceiling.

After Artie gave his initial report, Cub was humbled at the fact that SUL cared enough to send Artie and Dumpster Man to protect him and the others. Artie and Dumpster Man filled Cub in on all that had to be done (except the part about Iona delivering the magic gem; they wanted to keep that under wraps, just as SUL had asked).

Artie and Dumpster Man told Cub and the others that the shack was not a safe place to be. Marshall suggested they get to the outskirts of Boulder Dache. Without another thought, Cub picked up Marshall and said, "Let's get a move on guys." And off they trekked.

# Chapter 27

## Let's Hope "X" Marked the Spot

Cub followed the others to the base of the Grand Gallop Mountains where they found an abandoned cabin. Everyone looked around, inside and out, for anything or anyone suspicious. They saw nothing. When they all got inside Cub reluctantly set Marshall on the rickety table in the mouse-ridden dwelling and said, "OK, one last check. Trixie?"

"Shore thing Cub." Trixie darted from window to window, scouting the horizons. "Coast looks clear to me." She buzzed the cobwebs from her wings.

"All right then, let's get to findin' this cave on the map."

Cub enjoyed watching the faces of his friends while Marshall opened under his own power. Everyone startled when the blank pages 1402 and 1403 ripped from the spine and shot toward Little Sadie, Artie, and Dumpster Man.

"Oh no. I forgot. There's new people. . .I mean chukkons. . ." Cub looked at Dumpster Man. ". . .er uh. . ." At a loss for words, and now frustrated, Cub shook his head.

Marshall spoke up in a consoling voice to Artie, Dumpster Man, and Little Sadie. "It is all right. The map pages are very particular about who may view them, and rightfully so. This will not hurt, and it will only take a moment."

Little Sadie, Artie, and Dumpster Man were able to answer the pages' questions and pass the approval test with ease (though Little Sadie carried that petrified look of being attacked by a bug the whole time). Cub was relieved; the map pages had helped him put his doubts behind him when it came to trusting Little Sadie. Everyone watched as the blank pages returned to Marshall. Little Sadie, who had been holding her breath, let out a huge sigh. Once the pages magically bound themselves back into Marshall's spine, the map appeared.

Cub said, "We know the cave's here in Boulder Dache, but where? The red 'X' covers most-uh the town, and there's not a lot-uh detail that I can see." Cub looked to Little Sadie for help.

"Don't look at me. I been livin' in Looters Caverns since I got here." Little Sadie hung her head; apparently she really wanted to be able to help Cub.

Cub turned his focus to Artie and Dumpster Man. "Would you guys happen to know exactly where?"

Artie shook his head, and Dumpster Man answered, "I'm afraid we don't." He sighed. When he looked at Cub's face, he bent down and whispered to Artie, "I sure wish Wiskee were here to jump into Cub's arms and comfort him; it always works for Iona." Artie nodded.

"Marshall, any ideas how we can get more detail on the map?" asked Cub.

"Well, it is a long shot after I got soaked when we were beneath Sucker Fish Lake."

"Whadda ya talkin' 'bout? I thought ya got all well and dry."

"Yes Cub, I dried out, but there was one piece of the map I was not at liberty to tell you about until we got to Boulder Dache. I have not even seen what is on it. I am hoping it is not ruined." Cub wrinkled his face. Marshall continued, "Lift the page with Boulder Dache on it." Cub did. "Now, very easily, blow on the edge of the page."

Nearly whistling, Cub blew his breath through his puckered lips. The page separated, and markings began to light up. "Ya mean there's another map. . .under the map?"

"There is supposed to be," said Marshall.

Cub turned the extra page with care and gasped. "WOW! There is. Look guys. It's a different copy-uh the map." Cub pointed at various things on page 1402-A. "It's a detailed map-uh Boulder Dache!" He pointed to page 1403-A. "And here's a whole detailed map-uh the Lower West. This is great!"

They all jumped back when the red "X" popped from page 1402 and shrunk in size, then zipped toward 1402-A and slapped itself onto the page. Cub shouted, "The 'X'. . .it just landed smack dab in front-uh some cave openin'. I'm shore it's the cave we're lookin' for. It's gotta be the elemental shrine. . .it's just gotta be."

"Let me see. Let me see." Trixie came sizzling into the middle of things. She donned her magnifying glasses. "It did! It is! The red 'X' landed on the openin' to a cave." She flew left to right as she read aloud the fine print below the "X". "'This Red X Marks The Spot. It Is The Entrance To The Elemental Shrine.'" She sped to Cub's face, dived in and kissed his nose. "Ya done it! Ya done found it on the map. Now all we gotta do's find the shrine, get in there, get the stalactite, and put it in place. . .well. . .that is if'n the paintin's're dancin' and givin' us the sign that the roots're detatchin'." Trixie hovered a few seconds in awe, then took a seat on Cub's shoulder.

Little Sadie looked at Cub. Her expression held all the love any grandma would have for her newest grandson. She stepped toward him. "Oh Cub. If'n your ma and pa could see ya now, I just know they'd be so proud-uh ya." She hugged him and heard him sniffle. She held him as long as he needed to be held.

"I be a-havin' an idea here."

"What's that Artie?" asked Cub as he wiped his nose with the heel of his hand and slid it up his face and into his hair.

"I say we be a-waitin' till the shootout. Ye know e'eryone will be a-headin' ta Marshall's Gap fer the event. That should leave us here all alone. . .the perfect time ta be a-headin' inta that cave without a-gettin' caught."

Dumpster Man danced a quick jig and sang, "I think that's a splendid idea!" Little Sadie, Cub, Marshall and Trixie all agreed.

"Perfect!" Artie yawned and stretched. "But till that time be a-rollin' around, I think I'll be a-takin' me a nap."

"Sounds like another good idea." Dumpster Man made dramatic sleepy actions. "So if you won't be needing us for anything for a bit, I'd like to follow Artie's lead."

Cub smiled big. "Dumpster Man, you and Artie already done plenty just by bein' here. It really helps knowin' somebody's got our backs while Night Crawler, Nash, and Buck ain't here."

Artie and Dumpster Man tipped their hats to Cub then headed to the back porch. They found a couple of dusty rocking chairs, claimed one each, and rocked themselves to sleep.

Trixie hollered back at Cub before she flew out the door, "I ain't inner'sted in nappin' so much as I am keepin' an eye out while these two get some shut-eye." She joined them on the porch.

Cub thought that was a good plan. He knew she would not be able to save Artie and Dumpster Man herself, but he knew she could make enough noise to get someone's attention for help.

Cub, Marshall, and Little Sadie devised the plan for the evening run. Little Sadie helped Cub draw out a directional map they could follow that would lead them behind the buildings on Main Street. Little Sadie said, "This here's just in case somebody decided not to go to the shootout. Plus, we all know Blackjack and his outlaw gang could be anywheres."

Cub had no arguments.

Sunset was still a ways off. Trixie frolicked through the air and made her way inside the cabin then out the front door. Cub watched her as she flew over to get herself a Pee-Wee sized cold drink from the well. She flew back through the cabin, making certain to shake her booty and drop a few extra sparkles on Cub's nose. When she got out to the back porch she shouted, "Cub! Come quick!"

Cub left Marshall on the table and came running. "What is it Trixie?"

"They was here. They done took 'em, both Artie and Dumpster Man. They're gone!"

"Who was here? Took 'em where?"

"Blackjack got 'em, I'm shore of it. Oh no! This is my fault." Her wings slumped and she started to plummet, but she caught herself just before she hit the seat of one of the empty rocking chairs.

Cub hollered, "Whadda ya mean Blackjack got 'em. How do ya know that?" He whirled around at the sound behind him. "Little Sadie, get back inside. Make sure Marshall's in his backpack and YOU'RE wearin' that backpack. Get on now! Go!"

Little Sadie raced to find Marshall safe and sound. She did as Cub had ordered and returned to the porch with Marshall turned around on her front side.

Cub heard Trixie mumbling. She snapped back from the other rocking chair and said, "Now I know for shore it was Blackjack 'cause he left this here note." She picked up the note from the chair and flew to Cub.

She handed him the note, and he read it aloud:

"'You'ns is as clueless as a bumblebee that flew

into a batch-uh tar. I could-uh taken ol' Marshall,

but I figured it'd be more fun to keep collectin'

your friends. Besides, if'n I do that, then when I

come for you and Marshall there won't be any-

body left to protect ya. I'll be seein' ya soon. Ya'd

best watch your back little man.

Yours truly, Blackjack'"

Cub took Marshall from Little Sadie and gave her a gentle shove. "Ya gotta get outta here, and ya need to take Trixie with ya. They're comin' for y'all. They wanna make shore me and Marshall're finally alone, so why not give 'em what they want? This way you gals don't get hurt."

"Why Cubster, what makes ya think I cain't handle ol' Blackjack and his outlaws?" Little Sadie put up her fists.

"And what makes ya think I can't back her up? Is it 'cause we're girls?" Trixie got right in Cub's face. "Well. . .is it?"

"Nah, it ain't that. Well, maybe it is. No, it ain't. It ain't that I don't think ya can handle it, I just don't wanna lose two more-uh my best friends."

Trixie flew to Little Sadie. "Whadda ya think? Stay and help Cub or get out-uh here like he said? If'n we cut stick*52 we'd make mighty good decoys to keep Blackjack off-uh Cub's trail."

Little Sadie swatted at Trixie and missed then said, "Are ya out-uh your Pee-Wee mind? We're goin' with Cub and Marshall. They ain't got nobody else. And ya know it takes a team to outsmart ol' Blackjack. We all done tried to take 'im out, but we ain't done so good this far."

"Really. I don't wanna put ya in any danger." Cub was dead serious. "Y'all go on. Marshall and me'll be fine." Cub did not cry; in fact, he swelled with confidence.

Trixie said, "Well then, this ain't gonna be good-bye, it's only gonna be somethin' like, 'See ya 'round."

Apparently forgetting her bug fetish, Little Sadie reached out and grabbed Trixie from the air. "I said, we're goin' with 'im." Little Sadie tucked Trixie into the pocket of her filthy old coat and fastened the half-broken button. "Now stay in there and shut up!"

Cub heard Trixie gagging at the obvious scum her feet were sinking into in the bottom of the pocket. She broke loose, climbed to the top of the pocket, and let her feet dangle while she held on tight to the edge of the pocket, her head peeking over. "Well then," gag, cough, "let's get goin'," she said, gagged again, and spit.

Cub had no choice but to do what the ladies said. He had just had his first taste of women's intuition.

Artie's suggestion was holding true: Boulder Dache had certainly become a ghost town during the shootout. Cub, Marshall, Little Sadie, and Trixie made it through the backside of town with ease and pressed on.

When they got to the cave opening, Cub turned Marshall around so his light would allow them to see where they were going. The musty darkness was bringing back some pretty scary memories, but Cub stayed tough. In a few short minutes they found themselves at a dead end. Cub held Marshall high to shine his light on the wall. There were no paintings, no sockets, no stalactites, nothing they were looking for.

Trixie did a close-up inspection of the dead-end wall. "Hey y'all. I think this here crack in the wall's some kind-uh door." She buzzed from top to bottom. "But how's it open?" She flew again from the ground on the left, following the crack up, across, and back down to the ground on the right.

Cub broke the silence. "Trixie, move." She flew out of the way. Cub pointed, and whispered, "Be now dust!" Little Sadie jumped at the spark that came from Cub's fingertip. The spark landed on the ground and began to follow the crack like a fuse on a stick of dynamite. When the spark had completed its journey, the rocky door crumbled and the spark hurled itself back into Cub's fingertip.

"Wow!" Cub's jaw dropped at what he saw. "That's some kind-uh light! I ain't never seen nothin' like that 'fore. It's like green and gold and pink and purple all at the same time." Cub led the others into the foyer of the lighted room with caution. "This here's some elemental shrine."

Torches lined a round area, and hundreds, if not thousands, of stalactites hung from the ceiling. Cub saw the stained glass box that held the socket for The Element. He noticed that the detailed paintings on the walls of the round room were all connected with paintings of vines. Beneath the vines were sketches of chukkons and etherealians.

"Cub, look at this." Little Sadie motioned for Cub to come to her.

"What is that? It ain't no paintin', that's for shore." Cub reached out and touched the raised portion. He felt a rush of adrenaline, and heard SUL say something inside him. To avoid the embarrassment of anyone knowing he had heard SUL he said, "I'm bettin' it's the tip-uh the root from Maycly." He stepped back, and took in the visual. "The root-uh Maycly; it's the center-uh the paintin's. That's how the paintin's can dance. It's 'cause they're actually gettin' life from part-uh Maycly."

Marshall confirmed Cub's discovery.

Cub looked up at the stalactites and listened. "But I don't hear none-uh the stalactites singin'. Do any-uh you?"

Trixie shot up to the stalactites. She flitted in and out of every one of them. "Nothin' from up here either Cub."

"What's that?" Little Sadie stood pointing at something on a flat-topped rock.

Still puzzled at no singing stalactites, Cub changed his focus and went to check it out. "It's a note, but it don't look like any note I ever saw. This one has movin' pictures on the envelope." His eyes popped when his name appeared on the envelope. Without another thought he opened the magical letter and read it to the others:

"Dear Cub,

The stalactites do not sing here.

The map inside Marshall had to be completely changed,

and the singing stalactites moved when Copper Junction

fell through. I have placed the magic singing stalactites

in the Dry Bone Desert.

I had to hide them so Blackjack would not find

the one and only singing stalactite. For you see, he was the original carrier, but he wanted to use the stalactite for

personal gain and not to help My new Earth come to be.

Go to the Dry Bone Desert now,

search for the one true singing stalactite,

bring it here to the elemental shrine, and put the stalactite

in place before the paintings dance and the roots detach.

You've come so far. Don't give up now.

I know you can do it.

Trust in Me, Cub. . .I trust in you.

~SUL~"

Little Sadie ran to the exit. "Then we gotta bust our bustles*53!" She motioned to the others. "We gotta go now, or we'll never pull this off 'fore the shootout crowd comes back."

"Land sakes! You're right. We ain't got much time." Cub took off running toward the exit, Trixie hot on his tail.

Marshall, bouncing, brought sense to the sporadic decision. "STOP! All of you! Do not make such a ruckus. We can wait until morning to travel. We will go back and stay the night in the cabin where it is safe then head out for Dry Bone in the morning. It is the smartest thing to do. We know we cannot accomplish the task before the shootout is over. Trust me when I say SUL would not have led Artie to suggest going to the shrine during the shootout if He did not think there was enough time. If anyone can hear SUL's inward voice, you know it has to be Artie. Besides, there is no reason to waste a much-needed good night's sleep. Dry Bone is in the opposite corner of the Lower West; we have our work cut out for us, and we should be well rested before we start."

Everyone agreed, except Cub.

"I don't think we oughta be goin' back to that cabin. Blackjack found us there once, he can shore do it again."

"It will be fine Cub." Marshall's voice was reassuring. "Believe me, if there is going to be a shootout, you can bet Blackjack will be there, though he will most likely be hiding in a barrel. Those kinds of events almost always take a turn for the worse, and all villains are sure to be present so they can get in on the brawl once the shootout is over."

Cub nodded.

Marshall finished, "We will be fine. I guarantee it."

Cub believed if SUL had just talked to him inwardly, and Marshall was as certain as he sounded, he should have nothing to be afraid of. He said, "OK. To the cabin it is."

As they made their way out of the elemental shrine, Cub made sure he was last. He took one more look at the paintings on the walls to be sure they were not dancing before he made his way out the door.

Marshall kept them in line. He allowed no chit chat, no grumbling, no questions, just silence. In respect to Marshall they hoofed it back to the cabin without a word.

Once inside the cabin everyone got situated, and Cub placed Marshall on the table and opened him to the map.

"Easy boy. My spine ain't what it used to be." Cub half-smiled at Marshall's purposeful incorrect grammar.

Cub sighed and asked Marshall to open once again. "Sorry Marshall. I'm just wantin' to see for shore where Dry Bone's at." Cub found Marshall's coordinates to be correct. Satisfied with knowing the exact whereabouts of Dry Bone Desert and still not able to shrug off the last of his uneasiness, Cub spoke. "All right then. We'll sleep in shifts. I don't trust that Blackjack fella one bit. Shootout or no shootout, I got the jitters. I'd feel so much better if'n one-uh us was always up 'round the clock."

Trixie spoke up, "We don't need to sleep in shifts. I'll stay up all night. I can do it. Then I'll just sleep all day tomorrow on the way there." She meant well, and no one argued.

Cub listened to the snores, gasps, and other sleeping noises. He ended up being the one who was awake all night. The others were exhausted, and he knew they needed their rest, including Trixie. After giving Marshall's earlier speech much thought, Cub was confident in trusting that SUL would give him the strength and time he needed to do his part.

# Chapter 28

## Shootout in Marshall's Gap

"Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Shootout tonight. Here in Marshall's Gap. Extra!"

Nash, Buck, Boyd, and Bristol's nerves were on edge from listening for hours to the cries of the paperboys from the Marshall's Gap Gazette. They had no idea who was going to be in the shootout, but one thing was obvious to Nash and Boyd—Bristol and Buck were not going to miss a gunfight. Buck told them, "If'n Trixie was here, first she'd say, 'boys'll be boys.' And I know for a fact she'd encourage us to move right on through Marshall's Gap to Boulder Dache without stoppin'." He pushed his tiny cowboy hat back and scratched his forehead. "Heck, she'd prob'ly be right. . ." When he saw the looks on the others' faces he pulled his hat back down and changed his tone. "But this here's a cowboy thing, and cowgirls like Trixie just don't get it." They all laughed.

The sky was turning to pink and amber, and the sun was so big, it looked as though it could swallow Planet Land. As Nash and his friends walked the wooden decks of the store fronts they noticed several others looking and pointing into the distance, murmuring to one another. "I ain't never seen that man in the daylight. . .looks like a real scoundrel." "He looks like a man who's ten times worse'n Blackjack." "This is gonna be some shootout." "Seems we're gonna see a gun fight between two outlaws." "Where'd all that caked mud come from? Ya'd think he could-uh least ways found some soap."

"Who they talkin' 'bout?" asked Boyd. "I can't see over top-uh the crowd."

Several heads turned at Boyd's words, all of the faces presenting a look folks only give to a stranger. Bristol grabbed Buck and put him in his beard. He took hold of Nash and Boyd and pulled them between a couple of buildings, behind a stack of barrels for a better, and inconspicuous, look. Bristol jumped atop one of the barrels. "Sunnuvagun!" He hopped down and pointed. "Look down there, in front-uh the blacksmith shop." The others climbed onto the barrels and kegs.

Nash said, "That ain't right. It's Night Crawler! What's he doin' out in the daylight?" He stood with his mouth open for a few seconds. "Not only is he out in the daylight, he's out in the daylight and in front-uh the crowd. That just ain't like him." Nash came close to knocking Boyd off the barrel when he leapt down and said, "So it's Night Crawler they're yappin' 'bout. If'n so, they're tellin' things that ain't true. We need to let these people know he's a good guy." Nash took off running.

Buck went sailing from Bristol's beard and dived into Nash's hair.

"Get back here! Both-uh ya's!" Bristol hollered.

Nash answered, "Somebody needs to set these folks straight!"

Buck added, "And I'm just goin' 'long for the ride!"

Bristol and Boyd failed to stop Nash and Buck. But had Nash paid attention to them, he and Buck would have been spared an overdose of humility, as not many were willing to listen to a ten-year-old boy and a Pee-Wee when it came to the character of this scruffy bounty hunter.

Sounds of fear and disbelief rose from the onlookers. Nash hollered, "Night Crawler!" The crowd gasped at the boy's words. Nash reached Night Crawler and gave him a big hug. Barking irons*54 were heard being stripped from their holsters and cocked.

Night Crawler pushed him back easy like and whispered, "Son, what're ya doin' here? This ain't no place for a boy to be."

"But we been waitin' on ya to show up and help us get to Boulder Dache. We knew ya'd probably come through here to grab a drink or somethin'. Or did ya come here to watch the gunfight?" Nash's eyes glistened with excitement.

Buck flew out of Nash's hair, and Night Crawler smiled for a second. "Hey Buck. Good to see ya." Buck tipped his hat. Night Crawler continued with a solemn face. "Nash, I ain't here for no drink."

Nash's shoulders slouched. The men in the crowd began to send the women and children inside. Nash assumed the worst as he watched others take to hiding. He whispered his conclusion to Night Crawler. "Then you're here for the shootout." He swallowed hard and finished with the true voice of a scared ten-year-old. "Yeah. I can sense it. You're here for the gunfight all right. . .but not to watch. You're IN the gunfight ain't ya? You and Blackjack're gonna step it off and shoot. Why didn't ya go 'head and kill 'im when ya had the chance. . .back in the barn cellar?"

"It's somethin' I just didn't do."

Nash took a step back and wiped his nose then stomped his foot. "Give me straight answers. I ain't messin' 'round here. I wanna know. Why didn't ya kill 'im back at Stinkerbean's barn?"

Night Crawler wanted to lie but could not, despite the sickening feeling. "I messed up Nash. You're right. I should-uh done it, but I let pride get in my way. It's a hard thing for a growed man to let go-uh his pride."

"I don't care 'bout no pride. Ya should-uh done it." Tears rolled down Nash's dusty cheeks. "Now look at the mess you're in."

Night Crawler reached out and put his hand on Nash's shoulder. "I know. But don't you worry, everthing's gonna be all right. I'll fix it. I'll take care-uh ol' Blackjack." He wiped Nash's tears with his thumb. "And ya certainly don't need to be seein' this shootout goin' on. Ya need to hide for now, then ya can come out when it's all over." He pulled Nash back into him and hugged him like a father would. "Now go on. Git." He gave Nash a nudge, and Nash took off, Buck leaving a sporadic trail of glittery sparkles. When they returned to Bristol and Boyd, Nash told them everything.

Bristol said, "I think it's best we go inside then, just like Nighty said. Let's duck into the back-uh the General Store here. Ain't nobody gonna notice. The last thing we need's to be seen by Blackjack." Everyone agreed.

The sky had gone from amber and pink to grayish lavender. Night Crawler stopped in the middle of Main Street. Twisting his boot toes into the dry dirt, he steadied himself then shouted over the murmuring crowd, "Blackjack! Come on out, ya big coward."

No one had ever heard the town of Marshall's Gap fall so quiet. The wind howled like a far-off baying wolf. A hawk's screech slit the air and faded in the distance. A few tumbleweeds graced Night Crawler's boots and rolled through the brown cloud from one end of town to the other. The wind died, the dust settled.

"Come on out, Blackjack. You're the one who wanted to settle this like men. Show yourself, ya lilly livered, gutless, lyin', double-crossin' hoodlum."

Hitched horses became uneasy—a few grunts and whinnies dotted the silence—then the sound of heavy steps and jangling spurs encroached on the stagnant air. Blackjack shoved a few people out of the way and stomped down the steps in front of the bank to the street. He rolled a cigarette as he walked. He plodded toward Night Crawler, slow enough to make the intense moment escalate to a new level. When he met Night Crawler face to face he lit the cigarette, took a drag, and blew the smoke right into the bounty hunter's eyes. Night Crawler never flinched. . .not so much as a blink.

"What'd ya call me?" asked Blackjack.

Night Crawler hesitated for effect. "Ya heard me. Now. . .ya ready to get this over with so's I can take ya in and collect my bounty?"

Blackjack broke a half-smile. He said, "Ahhh. I believe you're sadly mistaken. Ya won't be takin' nobody in 'cause you'll be dead." He winked and cut loose with a gut-wrenching laugh. He let his laugh dwindle when he realized no one was laughing with him.

Night Crawler spoke. "Then turn your back and we'll count off ten paces. I'll see ya at the end-uh the barrel-uh my pistol."

Blackjack turned as did Night Crawler. Their backs touched, and the sheriff came running out of the jail. "Stop it you two! Stop it right now!"

Before the sheriff could get anywhere near Blackjack and Night Crawler a minion from the outlaw gang lassoed him and reeled him in like a trout. In the blink of a lizard's eye, the law man was bound and gagged. "You're gonna watch this with the rest of us, real nice and quiet. . .ain't ya?" The sheriff nodded.

"When I start countin', start pacin'," said Night Crawler. "One, two. . ."

"And why're you the one to set the pace?" asked Blackjack.

"Cause I figure you're too stupid to count to ten."

Blackjack huffed.

Night Crawler readied his hand over his holster and counted aloud, "One, two, three. . ."

Blackjack and Night Crawler stepped off ten paces each. They turned to face each other, drawing their pistols on the way around.

Nash came busting out of the General Store and shouted, "Nighty! On the roof behind ya!" Night Crawler turned to look.

BANG!

Night Crawler dropped to his knees, then onto his face. He had been hit in the back by Blackjack's bullet.

"NOOOOO!"

"You're next boy!" Blackjack cocked his pistol and started targeting Nash on the run.

Buck raced to Blackjack and filled his eyes with sparkles to blind him temporarily. "Run Nash, run away!" shouted Buck. Nash froze and started screaming.

Boyd raced toward Blackjack swinging a shovel he had grabbed on the way out of the store. Blackjack, even dealing with Buck's sparkles, was still able to block most of Boyd's predictable moves.

Bristol raced in and walloped Blackjack in the backs of the knees with the rifle he had snatched up on his way out of the General Store. "Don't stand there Nash. Run boy!" shouted Bristol, then he up and bludgeoned the outlaw leader out cold with the butt of the empty rifle. Blackjack went down like a kerfed tree.

Nash took off in another direction with Boyd on his heels. The hollering crowd scattered. Bristol ran to Night Crawler and knelt beside him. He put his ear up to Night Crawler's nose and said under his breath, "He's still breathin'." Then he shouted over the chaos. "Doc! Doc! Get over here!"

Bristol found Boyd first, behind a barrel, and assured him the coast was clear. Next he found Nash curled up and shivering inside a keg they had been hiding behind. Buck could not keep up with Nash's tears.

"Easy now, easy. Nash, it's me. . . it's Bristol." He reached inside and patted Nash on the head. Nash looked up. Bristol coaxed, "Come on out-uh there. The gunfight's over, and Night Crawler wants ya to come see 'im. He's at Doc's house and still breathin', but Doc ain't shore for how long."

Nash wasted no time.

In only minutes they were at Doc's house just outside of town. Boyd hung back in the living room with Bristol as Nash and Buck eased their way into the bedroom and on over to Night Crawler's side.

Night Crawler opened his eyes. "Hey fellas. Good to see ya." His voice was weak and his breathing was raspy.

Nash went to pieces. "I'm so sorry Night Crawler. It's just that I saw that other outlaw and. . ."

"Nash." Night Crawler squeezed Nash's hand. "It's OK. I was a dead man either way with how they had things arranged. I just want ya to know that was real brave what ya done back there. It ain't your fault I took Blackjack's bullet in the back. In fact, it's my own. I ain't gonna last much longer."

"No. It ain't fair. Ya can't die. How can a man's death be his own fault?"

"Nash, there's a note in my inside pocket. I wrote it just 'fore the shootout. I left Shiner out behind the saloon; she's fine, but she's gonna need somebody to care for her. So will ya do that for me?"

With breathy stuttering Nash answered, "Well sure. But whadda I tell the others?"

"It's all in the note. When y'all meet up, ya can read it to 'em. How's that sound?"

Nash blubbered like any child would. "It sounds like a good plan. . .if'n ya was dead. But ya ain't dead, and ya ain't gonna be."

"I think you're a real cowboy Nash," said Night Crawler. Buck flew behind Nash to peek over his shoulder. "And you too Buck. You and Trixie're the rootin-tootinst Pee-Wee Flyers there is."

Buck smiled. He flew in front of Night Crawler's face and tipped his hat, but backed up fast when Night Crawler heaved a blood-filled cough. Night Crawler called out as best he could, "Bristol, Boyd, where are ya? I know you're here."

Bristol and Boyd entered the bedroom. Bristol spoke. "Right here Nighty. We won't leave ya. Just like you ain't gonna leave us." Bristol lifted his beard and wiped his nose with the tip.

"I know ya won't. You're two-uh the best ol' men around." Night Crawler's disoriented gaze was pathetic, but he finally set his eyes on Bristol. "Bristol, you take care-uh those kids and the Pee-Wees. They're real special to me. Be sure and tell Marshall it was a honor gettin' to meet 'im. And tell Cub I think he's gotta be the most courageous, honest, brave, SUL-trustin' Carrier out-uh all four."

Night Crawler's eyes rolled then shifted. He died with a smile on his face and a deadlocked stare on Nash.

# Chapter 29

## Sentiments and Sabotage

It was the day after the shootout, and Corn Hole had never had so many visitors all at once. Every bar stool, table, and bench was full. Standing room was scarce on the decks in front of business establishments. The building tops were lined with those who had a knack for climbing (and were not afraid of heights). Folks, young and old, were present from every town in the Lower West, from Ty's Corner to Vittles in the west and from Gopher Gut to Deadwood Doorway in the east. Even those who had doubted Night Crawler was worth anything (but had changed their minds about him once they had been told the real stories) showed up in town. No one was feasting to make merry; rather, they were drowning their sorrows in stiff drinks the bartenders in this town had neither poured nor sold in ages. Many who had come to pay their respects dropped to their knees and cried as the processional trudged down Main Street.

Nash, Bristol, Buck, and Boyd could not help themselves when the hearse came into view. Without thinking, they dashed to the buggy-of-death that was holding Night Crawler's pine box. They startled the team of shiny-coated black horses whose decorative head feathers wiggled when they reared and whinnied. The funeral director calmed the horses and stopped the hearse. He also convinced the deputy not to arrest Nash and his friends, as he had been told how special they were to Night Crawler.

The deputy and the funeral director walked away. Nash and his friends climbed onto the large spoke wheels and peered through the panes of the elaborate, glass-enclosed carriage.

"He ain't never looked more peaceful," said Bristol.

Buck's haphazard, fizzling sparkles were a sure sign there was nothing good that had come from this. "I'm gonna miss ya ol' buddy." He sniffled then jumped. "Ouch." A couple of sparkles had shorted out from his grief, singeing his backside just a tad.

"I only knew ya for a short time and didn't get to know that much 'bout ya. But what I did know-uh ya, I shore liked." Boyd placed his rugged hand on the glass as if trying to touch the corpse. "Thanks for rescuin' me from loneliness, and for takin' me to Nash that day. You're a kind man, Night Crawler. A real gentleman at heart." He removed his hat and bowed his head in homage to the man.

"He ain't never looked so. . .so. . .aw heck. What'd they go and fix 'im up like that for? Night Crawler probably never even owned a suit with a bow tie. He don't look like himself." Nash pressed his face against the glass. He backed off and spoke. "He'd never hold a rose like that less'n he was gettin' ready to talk to some gal, but I don't think he's ever been much innersted in swoonin' a lady into bein' his girlfriend or wife. He was a loner. A real tough cookie." Nash stared with tear-filled eyes a little bit longer at his pasty-faced, deceased friend. "But I agree, Bristol, he does look peaceful." Buck raced to Nash; he was getting used to blotting Nash's falling tears.

When the hearse reached the end of Main Street everyone hustled to follow along on foot, up the two-track*55 to the only cemetery in the Lower West. Women wept; cowboys consoled them as best they could.

The funeral director read the last words of the funereal service, closed the sacred book, and walked away.

Nash observed the crowd. Many lingered to pay further respects. Flowers were tossed into the casket. Some took off their scarves and jewelry, and placed them on Night Crawler's chest. There were those who had been scared of the man and yet had never met him. Nash leaned over to Bristol and whispered, "Them looky-loos shore make me sick. Ya know they're only here for a show, and to catch a glimpse-uh ol' Nighty."

Bristol nodded and spoke up, "But the funeral director shore did that graveside service with class, sayin' them last words and all just right. Night Crawler'd be humbled knowin' he's had that good-uh effect on so many."

With his hands in his pockets, Nash kicked the dirt. "I shore wish Cub and Marshall and Trixie would-uh been here. They ain't got no idea Night Crawler's gone. What a shock it's gonna be. Shoot, they don't even know we done found ya, Bristol. Let alone you Boyd."

The lingering crowd began to break up and hike back into town. Nash and his friends did the same. It was a long walk back to town.

The train's unique whistle blasted a tune. Corn Hole's train station was overflowing. Standing deep in the sea of folks trying to get back to their hometowns, Nash blurted, "We'll never make this train either. We need a stall for Shiner and Pancake, and seems like every time the train pulls in, the livestock car's already full. It's gonna be hours 'fore we get our turn."

Boyd assured Bristol and Buck, "Nash never was one for waitin' in line." That brought a chuckle from several around.

Bristol had the idea. "We'll git our turn, but there ain't no sense standin' here waitin' to git it. How's 'bout we head over to the saloon and wait. Ya know, let this bunch thin out a bit, then come back and catch the train? Sound good to anybody 'sides me?"

It must have sounded good to the others because Bristol was the last one of the six of them (including Pancake and Shiner) out of the station.

In a couple of hours it looked as though there would be room for Pancake and Shiner and the others on the next train. They made their way through the station. Nash raced to the livestock car.

"All aboard!" shouted the oddly dressed conductor. "All aboard!"

Nash claimed dibs. "Hurry guys! A stall's open for Pancake and Shiner." The others came to Nash's rescue as Shiner would not budge. Pancake had ridden the train with Bristol several times, so there was no problem getting him on the train. Shiner, on the other hand, had to be persuaded to follow suit once Pancake had boarded.

Boyd held tight to Shiner's reins. "Maybe one-uh us oughta stay and ride back here. Since Shiner's never been for a train ride I think a calm handler'd be just the thing. I know you're her keeper Nash, but there's no need for ya to ride back here. It's nothin' I can't handle. Not to worry." Boyd rubbed Pancake's nose. Shiner kicked a dent in the train car's wall.

"I'll stay back here with Boyd." Buck landed on Shiner's head, sat down, and scooted his tiny boots back and forth between her ears, scratching her with his tiny spurs to keep her a bit more calm.

Nash had no qualms. "All right then. Boyd, Buck, you guys stay here with Pancake and ol' Shiner girl, and I'll take Bristol on up to find 'im a cushy seat." Boyd smiled. Nash was relieved; he knew Boyd knew his secret. Ponies and miniature horses were one thing, but without anyone around to help him, Nash was not keen on the idea of being left alone with such a fair-sized equine, let alone an enormous blunderpoke too. Nash loved Pancake and Shiner and was proud to be Shiner's new keeper, but truth be known, he was scared to death of big horses and farm animals, and Boyd was the only one he had ever told.

Nash and Bristol found the perfect seats four cars back from the engine, and two cars ahead of the livestock car. The seat padding was extra soft, and the engine noise was quiet enough so they could sneak in a quick nap.

Bristol was snoring in no time. Nash was eager to introduce Boyd and show off Bristol to Cub. But even as excited as he was, he was so worn out that he fell asleep before the train left the station.

The whistle blew a measure of a bluegrass tune, and the train wheels spun trying to gain traction. When the wheels grabbed the tracks the train jerked and jostled, but Nash and Bristol barely even noticed. The motions woke Nash just enough for him to think to himself, At last, we're on our way to Boulder Dache to meet up with Cub and Marshall and Trixie.

Nash felt something cold and hard against his temple. A gruff man spoke, "Wake up boy."

Nash, in a state of half-asleep/half awake, thought he recognized the voice but could not quite place it. When he came to, he shook his head and took a good look around; his eyes widened. Bristol was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the entire passenger car was void of other passengers, except for Blackjack standing next to him with his gun pointed at Nash's head.

# Chapter 30

## The Train Debacle

Long before sunrise on the morning of Night Crawler's burial, Cub, Marshall, Little Sadie, and Trixie had embarked on their next adventure. They had not wanted to draw attention at the train station in Boulder Dache so had planned to strike out by foot into Poker Chip Canyon. They still had a long way to go. Cub had seen the train trestle on the map and had gotten an idea. Thinking this would prove to be the most elusive route, he had decided they would find and climb the trestle, then hop one of the train's empty cars on its way around to Dry Bone Desert.

Cub waved an excited wave. He was glad and grossed out all at the same time to see Booger at the moat's edge on the northeast corner of Boulder Dache. He ran to her shouting, "How in the dickens did ya get up to here?"

"I try to cater to all customers in all places. So after ever trip 'cross the rapids, either d'rection, I just ride 'em 'round Boulder Dache a few hundred yards and stop for the folks that're flaggin' me down. Ya WAS flaggin' me down, wasn't ya?" She twisted her mouth and scratched her head. "I just cain't figger out why ya'd wanna cross from here."

"Yes m'am. I was flaggin' ya down."

"That over there's Poker Chip Canyon. Ya do know what you're in for don't ya?"

"Not really. But we need to be over there no matter what."

"Well, it's gonna cost ya again. How's 'bout somethin' from that backpack this time?" She was nearly drooling, her eyes glued to Marshall's leather carrying case.

Trixie buzzed in to the rescue once again. "Ya need to get a brain Booger. I'm tellin' ya, ya don't even wanna know what a ten-year-old boy carries in his backpack. Trust me, I been in there and. . ." Cub watched Trixie gag and cough as she stumbled her way through the air and landed on Booger's arm. She winked at Booger and said, "If'n ya know what I mean." Cub snickered when Trixie elbowed Booger in the arm.

"I think I get your drift. What else ya got?"

Cub's confidence grew when Little Sadie offered Booger a button from her coat, telling her some half-baked story about it being from Copper Junction and a real rarity. Cub was happy when Booger bought the story and took the button.

"All right. Y'all know the routine. Hop on the Booger Barge and I'll git ya to your destination safe and sound."

Again, Cub closed his eyes until they hit the opposite shoreline, this time at the bottom of Poker Chip Canyon. A dust devil spun causing no harm. Dry mud clouds whirled high into the sky behind herds of wild mustangs galloping across the canyon floor, some of the horses so close Cub wished he were big enough to rope a stallion and break him like his pa used to do. Squeasles*56 romped and played with prairie dogs. In the distance cattle were being hard-driven by what might have been rustlers. Cactus, big rocks, and crevices added dimension to the terrain. The canyon sights brought back good memories for Cub. . .all but the squeasles. He had neither heard of nor seen those frisky little varmints, but they made him laugh, so he added them to his list of good things to remember.

Trixie had remained in Marshall's backpack pocket to stay out of the heat and blowing sand. Marshall was riding in his backpack on the front of Cub. Marshall said, "It should not be much longer before we see the trestle come into view."

"I hope it's close, cause it's mighty warm out here." Cub adjusted the stank handkerchief over his nose and mouth.

Cub and the others rounded the edge of yet another granite butte. "There it is!" Cub could see the trestle spanning high and wide across the canyon's northern tip. He took off running, Marshall bouncing so hard his vision was blurred.

"Holy smokes Marshall. I can't lean far enough back to see the top."

Trixie flew straight up and landed about thirty feet above their heads. She hollered, "Yeah. It's even taller than it looks! I'll wait here while y'all get to climbin'."

Trying to thwart defeat, Cub took a deep breath and told himself, You can do this. It's just like climbin' a tree back home. . .'cept it's a bunch-uh trees on top-uh each other.

"Treat it like the staircase in Looter's Caverns, Cub, one step at a time. You will do fine."

Cub took Marshall's backpack off and held him so they were face to face. "Marshall, how come everything seems to keep gettin' harder and harder? I mean, just when it seems to be gettin' better, it gets all mucked up again."

"Cub, life is not fair. I just hate to have to be the one to tell you that when you are only ten years old. But you will find as you journey through life, SUL will become more and more important to you as you face the obstacles life puts in your path."

Cub pondered hard about what Marshall had said. He thought, I been tryin' and tryin' to talk to SUL ever since we left Boulder Dache, but He don't answer me. I prob'ly messed this whole thing up so bad He's given up on me.

"I've not given up on you Cub."

Cub thought "Hot ziggety!" He was thrilled to finally hear SUL's inward voice.

"I've become ill and I need you more than ever. Trust yourself, believe in yourself."

Cub waited to hear more, but nothing came. Marshall could tell by Cub's face something was going on inside and encouraged Cub to put the backpack on his back and begin their enormous ascent.

Little Sadie helped get Marshall situated. "There. Ya lucky sunnuvagun, ya oughta have a grand view from that position while Cub climbs."

"I am more concerned about yours and Cub's safety than I am the view."

"Ah heck. We'll be fine. I don't feel near as old as I look." Little Sadie locked her fingers, pushed them outward, and cracked her knuckles. She twisted a couple of times and her back snapped and popped. "Well, I don't feel as old as I look, but I guess my body thinks different."

"C'mon guys! What the heck ya waitin' for? I'm ready to fly on up." Trixie buzzed her wings to shake off the accumulating dust. "I ain't gonna sit here all day."

Little Sadie shot back a response. "OK. OK. We're comin'!" Under her breath she finished with, "Ya little talkin' bug." Little Sadie motioned for Cub to take the lead. "Ain't no way I'm goin' first and lettin' ya look up my dress while we climb."

The thought made Cub gag. Little Sadie cackled.

They took their first steps to scale the wooden behemoth. Cub did his best to focus, but it was extra difficult since he was impatient, anticipating hopping the train.

"Whadda ya done with Bristol?" shouted Nash.

"I don't think ya need to be too concerned 'bout ol' Bristol."

"And where's Boyd? Ya good for nothin'. . ."

Blackjack pushed his pistol on Nash's nose. "You're talkin' some pretty big trash there youngin'. If'n I's you. . ."

Nash pushed the gun off of his face. "Yeah, well ya ain't me!" He jumped out of his seat and tried to grab the pistol out of Blackjack's hand. He failed. . .miserably.

Blackjack picked Nash up by the front of his shirt and heaved him into another seat. Nash did not stick around. He hit the floor and crawled under the seats toward the front of the passenger car.

"Get back here ya little squeasle-eatin' menace!" Blackjack started shooting under the seats, only missing Nash by inches.

Nash counted six shots and hoped he was safe. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Blackjack reloading, which gave Nash more time to keep crawling toward the front. When he looked up ahead he saw two bench seats left. He reached the last seat and heard Blackjack still fumbling with the bullets while the train jostled on the uneven rails.

Nash made a run for it. He slid the door open, made his exit, and slammed the door. He hopped between the cars. Tearing through the next car he paid no attention to the sounds of the mayhem coming from the passengers. He did hear the door slide open at the back and Blackjack's boots stomping down the aisle.

Again Nash escaped through this train car's door. Instead of heading into the next car, he climbed the rusty metal ladder to the top. When he looked down he saw Blackjack just coming through the sliding door. Nash took off and made a leap for the next car.

It was rough making his way through the high pile of split wood. He thought, Only a few more logs to stumble over then I'll be safe and the engineer'll help me. . .I'm shore. Nash lost his balance and fell to his hands and knees. He tried to crawl, but the wood pile was too unstable. He stood up to run. "C'mon feet. Keep up with me." The short logs were slipping; many were falling from the train. He could see the top of the locomotive only a few feet ahead.

Blackjack's head popped over the front edge of the wood car. "Howdy boy."

Nash screamed. Instinct sent him running back toward the passenger cars, but the splintered timbers kept him from it. Through the skylights he could see Bristol and Boyd in the front seat of the car behind the timber car. Folks were helping them get the ropes untied from their wrists, and the handkerchiefs were being removed from their mouths. Nash looked over his shoulder only to see Blackjack inching closer and closer with each slipping log. Blackjack became frustrated at the sloppy footing. He gave up, turned, and headed for the engine. But the train shook on the slight curves and Blackjack fell face down onto the wood pile, somehow managing to stay on the train.

Nash saw the trestle approaching. He had no idea how deep the canyon actually was, but he figured it was deep enough to do some harm. His plan was to push Blackjack over the edge and get rid of him for good, but he needed the help of Bristol and Boyd. He looked back at the car his friends were in and saw them bursting through the door, the outlaw gang right behind them.

Boyd jumped to the timber car's platform and Bristol slammed the door shut just before the thugs escaped the car. He jammed it with a piece of wood that had fallen.

Bristol crashed into Boyd when he jumped to the wood car. "YIKES!" Boyd went sailing.

"OUCH!" Thanks to Bristol's beard Boyd did not fall from the train. Bristol reeled in his beard, pulling Boyd back onto the platform. Then they scaled the ladder of the car carrying the wood.

At Bristol's first glance he shouted to Nash, "There he goes! Grab 'im!" But it was too late by the time Nash looked back. Blackjack had already jumped and made it to the engine.

The train began to go faster and faster.

"You can't go that fast around that big bend up there," the engineer wailed.

"Shut up." Blackjack pointed the gun at the engineer's face. He pushed the throttle as far forward as it would go.

The steam from the smoke stack trailed flat over the timber car, burning and blinding Nash and his friends. Buck catapulted himself through the steam and tried to see what was going on, but the train had picked up so much speed he could not keep up, so he plowed back down through the steam and into Bristol's beard.

Bristol tried his best to make it to Nash, "Hang on boy! Hang on!"

Nash screamed again and dropped to his knees from a sudden jerk of the train. He tried to bury himself in as much wood as he could so he would not fall off. Bristol grabbed Boyd. They, too, buried themselves and hung on for dear life.

"The train! I hear it comin'. We need to get to the top. C'mon we're almost there," Cub shouted to Little Sadie.

Trixie had conquered the trestle. She cheered them on. "Y'all can do it! Only a few more feet!"

The trestle began to rumble. Cub and Little Sadie tightened their grip and made it to the top. Long cross-pieces extended from the trestle. Cub shouted, "These'll make good planks to stand on and hop the train."

So far, so good.

Blackjack pulled the whistle cord but it did not play a tune. Instead, it howled an ear-piercing tone.

"That don't sound like the train I know."

"It's gotta be, Trixie. It's the only train in the Lower West," shouted Little Sadie.

The trestle began shaking.

"We're gonna jump the track if'n ya don't slow it down Mister Blackjack." The engineer's voice was withering from fear.

"I said shut up." Blackjack waved his pistol for more effect. "I'm takin' this train to Boulder Dache as fast as it'll go." He pulled the whistle cord again and the howling rang through the canyon.

"Wouldn't it be better to get there a little late than not at all? What's your hurry sonny?" The engineer was trembling, but no one would have noticed, the train was vibrating so hard.

"I got my reasons. And my reasons ain't none-uh your business." Blackjack ripped off a shot. The engineer rolled himself into a ball and covered his head as Blackjack's bullet ricocheted a couple of times before disappearing out a window.

Trixie sped in the direction of the approaching train. She hollered, "I see the train, and it's movin' too fast to hop. Cub, we shouldn't be doin' this. There's somethin' real wrong. I just can't tell what." She returned to Cub and was darting in every direction. "Don't do this. . .please don't do this Cub!"

"But we have to. It's our only hope-uh gettin' to Dry Bone without havin' to spend a couple-uh days hoofin' it."

Trixie grabbed Cub's top shirt button to get his full attention. "I know. But I'm tellin' ya, this is a bad idea."

The trestle was thumping worse. Little Sadie and Cub lost their balance and fell to some cross-beams below. Cub climbed back up. The next howl of the whistle was intense.

Trixie hollered, "The train. Cub! It's rockin' back and forth really hard! I'm tellin' ya. . .DON'T JUMP THIS TRAIN!"

The train began to make its way around the sharp bend. "Jump Nash! And hope and pray ya land on one-uh the supports-uh this here trestle!" hollered Bristol as he and Boyd made a leap.

Only a couple of seconds later the load of wood shifted.

Cub steadied himself to hop the train. He felt his footing slip. To him it seemed as though time warped into slow motion as he plummeted and landed back on the cross-pieces near Little Sadie. He looked up. "NOOOOOOO!!!"

The train jumped the track.

# Chapter 31

## Hangin' On for Dear Life

Cub, Little Sadie, Trixie, and Marshall could not grasp what they were seeing and hearing. It went from the sound of a roaring train to deafening screams of terror that settled deep in Cub's bones. He wanted to hold his ears but knew he would fall if he let go. Pieces of wood hurled through the air with coals and embers. The cars separated, buckled, and snapped. Flames blasted and rushed from the engine setting the other cars on fire as they launched from the track and plummeted. A trail of steam followed the faint off-key pitch of the whistle as the engine descended into Poker Chip Canyon. The cars rushed downward and bored into the dry dirt. Cub shuddered at the booming thuds far beneath him. He could do nothing but watch and wait until the air cleared of debris.

Cub was coughing from the nastiness. "Little Sadie! Ya still here?"

"Yeah, I'm here Cubster."

"What about Trixie? Ya here?"

"I shore am." Trixie choked from the smoke.

Cub was never so glad to hear his friends' voices, still alive and hanging on. "Marshall! Ya still back there?"

"I am Cub. But it looks as though the backpack straps have suffered some damage."

Trixie flew through the cloudy air to Marshall and did a quick inspection. "Yep. Looks like some sparks landed on the straps and burned through. Ya need to take the backpack off Cub, or Marshall's gonna go tumblin' just like that train."

Cub, still aware of the possible consequences if he let go, hollered, "Little Sadie! I can't let go or I'll fall. Can you reach Marshall?"

"Not now. With all that wobblin' I went fallin' again, but I grabbed back on not too far down here. And it looks like the trestle took quite a beatin' too. I can't get back up to ya. Too many splintered cross-pieces."

"Then I guess it's up to me, huh?" Cub cautiously let go with one hand.

Little Sadie shouted, "Cub, be careful!"

"I will." Cub gave himself a pep talk in his mind, Easy does it. Don't look down. Just one strap. I only need to get ahold-uh one strap. Cub reached and pulled. With little effort the strap on Marshall's backpack shredded and the weight of Marshall yanked on Cub's small arm. Little Sadie closed her eyes and made a silent plea to SUL for help.

"I got 'im! Marshall's OK!" Cub wedged Marshall between himself and a wooden slat, keeping a tight grip on the good strap. Little Sadie opened her eyes.

"Oh Marshall, what're we gonna do?" asked Cub.

A new voice answered. "Well, I'd like to help ya, but I'm sort-uh hangin' by a thread myself!"

Cub could not believe who he was hearing. "Bristol? Is that you?"

"It shore is Cub! I'm over here."

Cub looked through the slatted beams and saw his faithful friend hanging by the back straps of his bib overalls. Cub could not contain his excitement. "Yeee-haaawww! Nash found ya!"

"Yep, he did. And wait till ya hear the story 'bout how he done it!"

"I can't wait Bristol. Believe me, I can't wait." Cub looked around a bit more. "Where's Nash and Buck?"

Buck flew hard enough to knock into Trixie with a big Pee-Wee hug, and their sparkles hit Cub's face. Trixie shouted, "Oh Buck! You're safe! Thank goodness."

Cub smiled and said, "And ya don't need to tell me 'bout Nash. . .I can hear him."

Bristol wheezed a laugh then coughed.

"Nash! Quit your screamin'. It's me, Cub. Look over and up."

Nash went from screaming to crying tears of joy when he saw his best friend.

Cub asked, "And is that Pancake and Shiner?" Shiner whinnied and Pancake made the loudest blunderpoke noise Cub had ever heard. He watched as Pancake hovered beneath Shiner (who was hanging by her harness) holding her up to keep some of the weight off. Cub shouted, "It's a good thing Pancake can fly. . .AND carry a horse while doin' it." Cub heard Bristol wheeze another laugh.

Cub saw a cowboy dangling near Shiner. Cub asked, "Ya gonna innerduce me to your friend there Nash?"

Nash took in a deep breath and hollered. "Shore. But ya ain't gonna believe it when I tell ya."

"Try me!"

Nash said with pride, "It's Boyd!"

Cub was dumbfounded. "Boyd? Ya mean our Boyd?"

Boyd answered, "Shore 'nough. It's me!"

Cub smiled. "How 'bout that? Hey Boyd! I'm real glad we're back together, but I shore wish our meetin' would-uh happened in a better way. I can't wait to get down from here so's I can hear all your stories."

"Me neither Cub." Both Cub and Boyd were overwhelmed, and it showed in their weeping eyes.

Cub wiped his nose on his sleeve then shouted, "By the way. I got somebody I want you all to meet. Nash, Boyd, look up at the lady hangin' just below me. . .it's Little Sadie!"

"Howdy boys!" Little Sadie let go to wave and everyone gasped. She swung and hung there with ease by one arm.

Nash laughed. "Has she kissed ya yet Cubster?"

"Yeah, but not like you're thinkin'. She's agreed to be my grandma."

Nash frowned. "You'll have to fill me in on that one for shore!" He looked at everyone and shouted, "Woohoo! We're all back together again. . .well, sort-uh." He grabbed the beam a little tighter.

"So why in the heck was y'all on that train? Where do we meet Night Crawler?" Cub asked.

"It's a long story. How 'bout I tell ya that story later? Right now we need to try and figure out a way down from here."

Cub answered, "That'd be great, except for. . .well. . .look at the trestle around us. It's smashed to smithereens. We're lucky to be hangin' on where we are."

SNAP! A section of the trestle splintered and floated like an autumn leaf down into the canyon.

"What're we gonna do Cub?"

"I don't know Nash. I guess we just gotta trust that SUL knows the purdicament we're in and'll help us get out-uh it. Now stay quiet and let me think 'bout a plan."

"How come you're the one gonna think-uh the plan. Maybe I already got a plan!"

"Oh Nash, for Maycly's sake. We can all think, and whoever comes up with a plan first. . ."

"Look out!" shouted Bristol. "What in tarnation is that thing?"

The wind from the approaching creature's wings was immense. The animal bellowed and roared as it made a bee-line for the trestle and its captives.

"Cub! Cub! Where are you? Cub!" came a woman's voice from the beast.

"I'm over here, near the top! HELP!"

The creature swooped in and hovered. Its massive size dwarfed Pancake and Shiner. The woman riding the beast shouted, "I'm Iona, Queen of Maycly. This is Thassalon, a mandibleron gryphon. Do not be afraid. SUL has sent us to rescue you."

# Chapter 32

## Night Crawler's Note

"Queen Iona! Please help the others first, then come get me," hollered Cub. "I'm sorry. I meant to end that with, 'your majesty.'"

Iona smiled and said. "No wonder SUL chose you to be The Carrier, Cub. He said you were one of the most selfless kids He knew. And don't worry about the majesty part. You may simply call me Iona." She blew him a kiss.

Cub blushed.

Iona said, "I'll do as you wish Cub. I'll rescue your friends then be back for you."

Cub watched as all his friends, one by one, boarded the back of Thassalon. Cub's heart warmed at the sight of the very special welcome Iona gave each of them.

When Cub boarded, Iona knelt and gave him a tight hug. She whispered in his ear, "SUL said you're doing great, and keep trusting Him. He believes in you, and so do I and all of my friends from Maycly."

Cub looked deep into Iona's eyes. He had never seen eyes that swirled in the colors of white and dark chocolate. He reached up and touched her crown. "WOW. That's even realler than the gold they find in Copper Junction, ain't it?"

Iona smiled. "I don't know about it being realler, but the gold is from Maycly."

Cub then reached with his other hand and pulled one of Iona's braids to his nose; the braid was woven with a ribbon of flowers. "And these here flowers're the sweetest I ever done smelled." He whispered, "But don't tell Little Sadie I said that, 'cause then she'll just want me to get her some for her nappy hair."

Iona chuckled at the sincerity in his voice and said, "I promise, I won't tell a soul."

"Thanks." Cub's mouth curled into a smile.

Iona stood and spoke. "Now that we're all here, where's the safest place to go and get organized?"

Trixie flew in front of Iona and curtsied. "Queen Iona. Rabbit Run Forest'd be the best for now. It's inconspicuous, and there's tons-uh mounds and trees to hide in."

Nash panicked. "Whadda ya mean Rabbit Run Forest? I thought the cave and singin' stal. . .ac. . .tact. . .tite was in Boulder Dache?"

Cub said, "Not anymore." Nash frowned. Cub continued, "We just need to make a plan and get to Dry Bone Desert, and fast!"

Trixie zipped from Cub to Iona and back again. "Hold your horses there Cub. I just re-thunk that. If'n we fly on Thassalon 'cross the Lower West in the daylight we're gonna be seen, and that can't be a good thing. Am I right?"

Iona chimed in. "Trixie, you're just as cute and rambunctious as the Sprites on Maycly. It makes me miss Jit and Giddy all the more."

"Who's Jit and Giddy?" Buck asked.

"They're two of my dear Sprite friends."

"How come I remind ya of 'em? Are they nice? Are Sprites like Pee-Wee Flyers in the Lower West?"

"They're nice just like you, Trixie, and very, very similar. The fashion is a little different, but your amazing ways are identical." Iona winked.

Trixie said to Buck, "Did ya hear that? We're like Sprites on Maycly." Trixie gasped and said a breathy, "WOW." Trixie and Buck looked at each other with their mouths hanging open. Buck caught Trixie when she blacked out for a brief moment.

Iona returned to the subject at hand. "I agree with Trixie, Cub. We can't afford to be seen. We'll wait just a little longer for nightfall, then it's off to Rabbit Run Forest to devise a plan on how to get you to Dry Bone Desert—unseen. And don't you worry about a thing. Besides, there's a little something more you're going to need from me to pull off The Carrier's duty, and I'd prefer no one else but these friends of yours are around when I give it to you."

"But. . ."

Nash said, "But nothin' Cub. Ya need to close your yap-trap and listen to the Queen-uh Maycly. I'm shore she's got a good 'in' with SUL."

Startled, Iona smiled and said. "Nash, you're catching on."

Cub butted in, "Sorry your majesty. . .I mean Iona the Queen. . .ur uh. . ."

"Cub, really, please. . .just Iona. You may simply call me Iona. And that goes for all of you. I know where your hearts lie. So please. Just call me Iona."

Cub blushed yet again and hung his head. Iona gave him a friendly punch in the arm. That made him perk back up.

Cub shared the excitement with the others during their ride on the mandibleron gryphon. Each marveled at being able to walk around on Thassalon's back and check out the sights below from several viewpoints.

Iona found a nearby crevasse in Sloopy's Foothills and guided Thassalon down into it to hide until nightfall. The landing was smooth, and they could still see with the daylight that came from above if they stood directly below the opening. It was hard to believe, but there was an indentation big enough in which to hide Thassalon. Cub removed Marshall from his backpack. Marshall relished a deep breath of fresh air.

"Is this where we're s'posed to meet Night Crawler?" Cub asked.

It took a minute for someone to speak up. Bristol removed his hat and answered. "No, Cub. I'm 'fraid not. In fact, we ain't gonna be meetin' 'im no more."

"But we need him! We got Shiner; how's he gonna get around tonight without her?"

"Cub. I don't know how to tell ya this other'n just say it." Bristol swallowed hard. "Blackjack got 'im."

"Then let's go get Blackjack! I ain't scared-uh him, 'specially now that we got Thassalon. He could trample Blackjack and his whole outlaw gang to bits in no time flat." Cub managed to fit a breath in between sentences. "Why, I'd like to burry that ol' Blackjack up to his neck, turn the syrup fleas on him, THEN let Thassalon squarsh his head!"

Marshall spoke up. "Cub! Stop! You should not talk that way in front of Iona, or anyone else for that matter. You are correct, Blackjack is no good and. . ."

Nash interrupted, "I'll tell ya the best news-uh all though. . .ol' Blackjack and his outlaw gang went drivin' into the canyon floor with the train." Cub, Little Sadie, Trixie, and Marshall all gasped. Nash stomped and drove the heel of his boot into the dirt. "BOOM! Just like that, them dirt bags's gone, and I hope they rot!"

Marshall gained composure, cleared his throat, and continued, "Cub. Nash. No ten-year-old boy who believes in SUL and all the goodness He brings should be wishing bad things on people, whether they stand for Good or Evil. It is not the right thing to do." From his stern tone, Cub and Nash knew Marshall meant business.

Cub, still frustrated, said, "Well, that's just how I feel, whether he's dead or not." Cub kicked the dirt. He looked at Nash and blurted, "Ya never said Night Crawler was on that train. So Blackjack must-uh took him and hid him somewhere 'fore he got on the train. I wanna go get Night Crawler. C'mon guys. I know Shiner'd be so happy to see 'im."

Nash grabbed Cub's arms. "Cub! Night Crawler's dead. Blackjack and his gang got him—they don't have him, they done got him. Blackjack done shot him in the back. We watched it all." Then Nash collapsed.

Iona rushed to his side. When Nash came to he started crying. He pulled a note from his pocket. "Here. Read this. Night Crawler gave it to me just 'fore he died."

Iona took the note, hugged Nash, and stepped into the light. This was one of those times she wished Cole was by her side to give her strength, as she knew this crew needed her to be strong. Trembling, her memories not serving as her friend at the moment, she bucked up for the task she had to do. This was not the first note of significance she had encountered. She took a deep breath and read aloud for all to hear:

"Dear Everybody,

I reckon if'n y'all are reading this then I'm long gone, but the good news is y'all are together. I had a feeling it would end this way, but there ain't nobody to blame but myself.

Nash, be sure and take care of ol' Shiner girl for me, just like I asked you. If you need help I'm certain Boyd will jump right in and be there for you.

Bristol, you're quite the man. What more can I say? If'n only I was as strong and good-hearted as you.

Buck, Trixie, keep your wings buzzing and helping these fine folks.

Marshall, I never thought I'd get the chance to actually have you in my sight. You sure are a real special kind of book, and I know you've got the best friends a book like you could ask for. Cub needs you in more ways than one.

And Cub, I hope you're not mad at me once you read this next part, but you need to know the truth. When Blackjack turned bad and lost his role as The Carrier, SUL asked me to take him out so you could perform your duties as The Carrier with no trouble from that rotten venomous outlaw. But when Blackjack started treating so many others so bad—folks and critters alike—I felt I had to make him suffer. I mean he even killed an innocent woman and her children then burned their cabin and barn down with them and the horses in it, all the while forcing their pa to watch just 'cause he wouldn't give Blackjack his cattle. I decided killing wasn't good enough for that lowlife, bitter, scum of a rustler. I know, you're asking yourself, who was I to question SUL? I was nobody to be doing such, and I guess I've done paid for it now. When I found out Blackjack was starting to torment you, Cub, well, I took it real personal, even more than I already had. If'n I had just listened to SUL and took Blackjack out long before you got here, a lot of your troubles would've been avoided.

I sure hope y'all find it in your hearts to forgive me. I sure hope SUL finds it in His to forgive me too. I never done said this to nobody before, and I wish I would have while I was standing by your sides—I love y'all and I hope to see you on Maycly, that is if'n SUL will have me when the time comes.

Yours Truly, Night Crawler.'"

A dry eye was nowhere to be found. Thassalon cooed a low sound. He could sense things were difficult for Iona and her new friends. He reached out with his enormous wing and cuddled them together. Marshall glowed from being in the presence of a creature so magnificent from Maycly; he counted it a blessing. The comforting feeling aided each one in a different way. Thassalon kept them tucked in his feathers until sunset.

When Iona gave the command, Thassalon unfurled his wing. Iona looked at her friends and said, "I understand how it feels to lose someone you love who loves you back. I know how hard it is to even consider that SUL cares. But you must trust me when I say, SUL hears your cries of desperation and will be there for you in ways you can't even imagine." She looked right at Cub. "He really does care." She made certain to look at each one. "All you need to do is trust Him. You can't try to figure out on your own how He's going to help you, you just have to let Him help you."

Cub spoke up. "But I feel like I let SUL down. If'n I'd-uh been there I could-uh saved Night Crawler. I could-uh called out 'be now whole' and he wouldn't-uh died."

Marshall wobble-walked to Cub and nestled between his feet. He looked up at him. "Cub. Remember what you were told about that particular magic? You only have a certain number of times it will work. If SUL had wanted you there, trust me, you would have been there to help." Cub picked him up and held him tight.

Bristol spoke up, "It's sunset. We need to get goin'. Night Crawler'll be watchin' over us in spirit from a distance, I can just tell." He winked at everyone. All of them accepted his words, which gave them enough motivation to carry on. They all were aware there was too much at stake to linger any longer.

Iona did the royal leader thing and rallied the troops. "OK. Let's get out of these foothills before anyone catches sight of us down here in the moonlight." Thassalon lowered his right wing and they climbed on. This time they noticed his wing's underside looked like a midnight sky. Iona spoke. "Hang on for the take-off." All grabbed a handful of fur. "Thassalon, fly!" Thassalon took off and rose as high as he could into the sky. With his entire underside camouflaged to blend in with the sky's color and the stars seen from Earth in the old days, the group could fly nearly unseen. But the force of his wings made an unfamiliar sound, breaking the much-cherished silence.

They landed in Rabbit Run Forest. Thassalon buried himself beneath a large, thick clump of hardwoods and settled in. The others found a small area beneath a large tree with spreading limbs and set up camp there.

Everyone swapped stories, and Boyd, Little Sadie, Nash, and Cub had quite a reunion. They were ready to begin making their plans of how to tackle getting to Dry Bone Desert and finding the singing stalactite.

"Yap!"

Everyone jumped at the sound.

Iona turned in a flash. "Wiskee! What are you doing here?"

"Yap, yap, yap, yippity skip yip wowlee."

Iona scooped up her Bichon Frise from the back of his miniature icataras, Spike. "Are you kidding me?" Wiskee licked every part of Iona's face over and over. Cub and the others watched with their jaws hanging open and their eyes wide.

# Chapter 33

## On to Dry Bone...Almost

Iona was happy and frightened all in the same breath. She clutched Wiskee to her chest, and he leaned in to hug her. Iona held him up; they were face to face. "Seriously. What are you doing here Wiskee?"

Wiskee began to wiggle and grunt. He made a few more noises. "Yap! Yip! Yowlee wowlee yappity yip." Iona could see from his expression that he was miffed.

"Oh. Nevermind. You're not on Maycly. I know you can only talk on Maylcy." Iona felt every eye land on her.

"Ya mean ya got a dog that can talk?" Cub asked.

Iona grinned sheepishly. "Uh. . .yeah. I do."

"But he can only talk on Maycly?"

Nash said, "That's what the situation appears to be."

Iona nodded.

Little Sadie approached Wiskee. He yipped and his tail wagged. Little Sadie jumped back.

"He's not going to bite you. I promise. He's just very vocal, and loves to meet new friends." Iona stroked Wiskee's head and said to him, "Now be still and let Little Sadie pet you."

Little Sadie reached out and Wiskee pressed his chin into her palm. She slid her hand up and over his fluffy white top-knot and down his back. Wiskee shivered when her fingers tickled him.

Iona asked him, "Why are you not back home with Jonji and Daddy? Do they even know you're gone? Where's Artie and Dumpster Man?"

"Yippity yappity, yap yap, yip. . ."

"Oh forget it. First I couldn't get used to the idea of you being able to talk, now I can't even come close to accepting the idea that you can't." Iona clutched Wiskee even tighter. He grunted as she squeezed the air from his lungs. "Sorry little buddy. I always hug you too tight." Wiskee gave her a kiss.

With everyone's eyes still locked on Iona, she felt like an idiot and figured no one believed her. She was dealing with feelings and emotions from her far distant past and not liking it one bit. She longed for the serenity of Maycly but knew she had to press on somehow.

Nash had a rare moment. . .with manners! "Uh, 'scuse me, Iona. I was wonderin' who Artie and Dumpster Man are?"

Iona sighed. Frightened at the fact Wiskee had left Maycly and frustrated he could not talk, she came to tears. Wiskee was quick to lap them up and careful not to get Buck and Trixie caught in his tongue while they caught their fair share of tears.

"Look at me. My apologies Nash. I'm supposed to be a queen. I'm supposed to lead you guys and be strong for you. And I'm a total mess."

Trixie spoke up. "Hey honey, please don't cry. Ya ain't a mess. You're a strong little lady. I love the fact me and Little Sadie have 'nother gal on the team." Trixie winked then continued. "We're all used to helpin' each other no matter how crazy it gets. And I think I know somebody who can help us understand what Wiskee's sayin'." Trixie gave a whistle, and Pancake came running. "We'll be back." Trixie buzzed atop Pancake and hollered, "Giddy-up!" They took off like lightning.

"What was that there all 'bout?" asked Bristol.

"I ain't exactly shore," Buck said as he watched Pancake and Trixie disappear. "But I think I got a purdy good idea where Trixie's headed, and they won't be gone long."

Cub took the lead. "Well there ya go. If'n Buck ain't worried 'bout Trixie and Pancake, then I ain't neither, so none-uh the rest-uh ya oughta be. And I think we need to start devisin' our next plan. Ya know, the one we need to make 'fore mornin' to get us into Dry Bone Dessert without bein' seen."

Iona said, "Cub, I think that's an excellent idea. We definitely need to be out of here and in Dry Bone before daylight."

Cub chewed his lower lip. "It's probably even more important'n ya know. There's somethin' I ain't told nobody." He hesitated for a second.

Nash's impatient nature was right on cue. "Well ya gonna tell us or not?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna." Cub glared at Nash.

Marshall, sick of the boys' bickering and at his wits end, scolded them. "Boys I'm fed up! This ain't no time to be squabblin'. Ya both need to get along. Ya hear me?" The boys, stunned at Marshall's improper English, nodded. Marshall finished through gritted teeth. "And Nash, let Cub talk when he's ready."

Cub did not wait any longer to dump the heavy load of news. "When we was in the elemental shrine back in Boulder Dache, I saw the eyes movin' on a man in the paintin's. He followed me as we was walkin' toward the openin'-uh the room. When y'all wasn't lookin', he smiled at me. Then his lips barely moved, like he was tryin' to talk. I could-uh swore I heard him mumble, 'The time to start dancin' is gettin' close.' Then his arm pulled away from the wall and he tipped his hat."

Marshall was fit to be tied. "And you are only just now telling us this?"

"I wasn't even sure I saw what I saw."

Marshall came three feet off the ground and landed with a bang. Everyone jumped back. "You mean the paintings on the walls started dancing?"

"No! Not right then. I can't say for sure 'bout now though. They wasn't dancin' when we left, but I got a feelin' there ain't a whole lot of time to be wastin'. And stop yellin' at me. I didn't know."

Marshall took a deep breath and replied, "My mistake. I am very sorry, Cub, to have yelled at you the way I did. I was getting a little too anxious. Apology accepted?"

Cub gave a solid nod.

Wiskee gave a warning. "Yip! Yippity yappy!"

Iona turned to see Trixie and Pancake making their landing.

"We made it!" shouted Trixie. "And look who I brought with me. Sal." Sal's tail wagged and Pancake knelt low enough so Sal could hop down without any trouble. She raced to Iona and stood on her back legs begging for some attention.

Iona could not resist kissing Sal on the head. In as nice a voice as she could muster, Iona spoke to Trixie. "Sal? What a nice gal."

Trixie beamed. "She really is. You're gonna like her even more in a minute or so."

Wiskee leapt from Iona's arms and took off romping; Sal followed. Iona said, "It isn't that I'm not a dog lover, obviously, but the fact of the matter is. . .Wiskee becoming acquainted with a girlfriend right now really isn't a high priority."

Buck cracked up. Trixie stomped through the air. "Ya think that's all I brought ol' Sal back here for? To be Wiskee's girlfriend out-uh the clear blue?"

Iona interjected, "Well, it would seem that way. And I know that Sprites. . .I mean Pee-Wee Flyers. . .can be kind of scatter-brained when situations get a bit stressful. That's all."

Trixie came unglued, and her actions revealed nothing less.

Buck was laughing so hard now his wings were crinkling. He caught his breath and said, "Iona. Trixie didn't bring Wiskee a girlfriend. She brought him somebody to talk to."

Iona said, "But Wiskee can't talk because we're not on Maycly. And I KNOW Sal can't either because SUL only made one talking dog, and that talking dog is Wiskee." Buck laughed again. Iona was beginning to understand how frustrated Charleo felt at his most serious of times.

Buck took Trixie by the hand and said, "Iona. Follow us." They led Iona to Sal and Wiskee, who were yipping and yapping back and forth.

Trixie flew to Sal and said, "Well, what is it? What does Wiskee have to say?" Sal barked, grunted, and chewed her yaps. Trixie answered between sounds, "Uh huh. . .yeah. . .sure. . .oh my. . .but how did that happen? Hmmmm." Trixie flew to and hovered before Iona's face. "Sal said Wiskee said, 'I'm here 'cause somethin's happened to Jonji.' He seems to think Denton's with him 'cause he wasn't in the wispy coach with Dittle and Froaker when it poofed and fizzled and left for Planet Fire.'" Iona's heart sank. Trixie saw Iona's eyes tear up and flew to catch the salty droplets. Then she continued, "Wiskee went on to say, 'Daddy Cole can't find Jonji anywhere, and I didn't know what to do other'n take off and come find Momma and let her know. I'm just shore she can help 'cause she's the best momma ever!'"

Hoping this was some kind of tall tale, Iona looked at Wiskee. "Is Trixie telling the truth?"

Wiskee nodded.

Iona pulled it together and spoke with authority. "Then I've no time to waste. I have to get the gems to The Carriers on the other elemental planets and get back to Maycly at once." A look of burning anger flared in her eyes. "This sounds like the workings of Evil. I don't know who or what, but it is definitely Evil."

Cub panicked along with Nash. Bristol held the boys to console them.

"Cub. Come to me," said Iona. Bristol gave him a nudge. Cub went to her. Iona removed her crown and pulled from it the imperial topaz gem. An emerald-cut diamond replaced the gem in her crown. She held the topaz up for all to see. "Cub. You need this gem to complete your task. I wasn't supposed to give you this until you found the singing stalactite and were on your way back to Boulder Dache, but I'm trusting you to keep it hidden. It must be inlayed in the singing stalactite just before you're ready to place the stalactite in the socket. The gem holds the last needed magic from SUL to bring about the pure element of land in the birth of His new Earth. SUL has kept the gems separated from the four elements and in secret, even to The Carriers. He did not want to leave any chances open for Evil to take possession of His final ounces of magic. Once you hold the Element, the indentation in the stalactite where the gem is to be placed will glow until the gem is inlayed. But the gem must not be inlayed until you are ready to place the singing stalactite in the socket." She hesitated. Looking into his big, brown, child eyes she asked, "Understand?"

"Yeah. I understand."

Iona felt Cub trembling as she placed the gem in his hand and cupped it with both of hers.

Cub stuttered through his tears. "What 'bout Artie and Dumpster Man?"

"If I know anything, it's that Artie and Dumpster Man are fine. They can handle whatever is thrown at them. Cub, you're the best." Iona kissed him on his head. "I must go and deliver the other three gems. Then I have to find my son."

Iona released Cub's hand. He felt as though he had just been abandoned by everything Good, but he knew better than to believe what he was feeling at the moment. He was now confident, through faith, that SUL would be talking with Him on the inside, helping him and guiding him to his destiny, no matter how scary it would be.

Iona called out, "Wiskee. Bring Spike. We have to go."

Thassalon lowered his wing and Iona, Wiskee, and the miniature icatarus climbed aboard. Iona feared for Cub and the others when she saw their faces. Buck and Trixie clutched one another arm-in-arm, shivering. Bristol was holding Pancake's harness in one sweaty palm and Marshall in the other. Shiner had left no space between herself and Pancake. Sal leapt onto Shiner's back and whined. Boyd stood next to Little Sadie, who was kneeling with her arms wrapped around Cub and Nash.

Iona took a deep breath. She knew she was their only hope to carry on. She rallied her new-found troops by raising her scepter and speaking with confidence, "You are not alone. You are never alone. Trust SUL every moment. Do not doubt or waiver, as that will only tempt you to give in to Evil. Stay together; band together. Do not fret, Artie and Dumpster Man will be fine, and they will find you. They have been sent by SUL to protect you, and that they will do. You have my word."

Iona's friends watched Thassalon leave the ground. The wind from his mighty wings bent the branches and rustled the leaves. The higher he rose, the more his underside blended with the stars. The Bristol Posse heard Wiskee's tiny howl fading in the distance, then Iona shouted, "I will see you all on Maycly."

# Chapter 34

## "Sing to Me"

"Fer the last time, we be NOT here ta steal the magic singin' stalactite. It be The Carrier's job ta find it and take it ta the place SUL tells him."

An Indian spoke, "And I say again, you talk strange, wee round one."

"OUCH! Ye need ta be a-cuttin' that out. OUCH!" Artie felt yet another spearhead poke into his back. His hands were tied together plus tied to The Man Behind The Dumpster's hands. A longer rope, which was wrapped around their waists, was tied to the saddle horn on one Indian's palameetah. Artie and Dumpster Man were being pulled and tugged as they walked. If they fell, the Indians did not stop but rather kept dragging the two Mayclysians through the dirt until they could get back on their feet. Dumpster Man's wings had been bound with sturdy leather roping so he could not fly. He tried to spread his wings to snap the binding straps, but they were too strong.

"How many times do I have ta be a-tellin' ye, I be a chukkon. I be from Maycly. Have ye n'er read The Book of Good and Evil? We be here ta protect The Carrier. And how we ended up in this desert would be the fault of Blackjack and his outlaw gang. Do ye really think we travel like tumble weeds in potato sacks fer the fun of it? Just because we showed up in two tied-up burlap bags doesna mean we be Evil spirits. I be a-tellin' ye, twas Blackjack who threw us onta the edge of the desert, hopin' we'd be a-dyin'."

The Indian hesitated then spoke. "We follow The Law of the Land in the Lower West. You are Evil sent to Dry Bone Desert to steal from The Carrier, The Carrier we wait for. The Grand Wizard asked us long ago to protect the stalactites and only give to The Carrier the magic singing stalactite. You are here to steal and harm us."

Pitching a dramatic fit, The Man Behind The Dumpster wiggled, jerked, and shouted in a deafening upper octave as he high-stepped it while being pulled. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard." He fell flat on his face, dragging Artie down with him. Sliding through the dirt Dumpster Man shouted, "A chukkon wouldn't hurt anyone! And if you trust that the Grand Wizard told you to protect the stalactites, then why don't you believe The Book of Good and Evil to be true?" Dumpster Man got back on his feet and yanked Artie back up.

"Quiet, winged creature. I did not say we do not believe The Book of Good and Evil to be true. We hear from the Grand Wizard alone, and He tells us what we are to do. And all He has said is to protect the stalactites and allow no one to take the magic singing stalactite except The Carrier."

Dumpster Man had had it. "Oh for Maycly's sakes! Let us go. We'll follow you without these crazy bindings. Really, I promise." Artie came to his tip toes every time Dumpster Man jumped in anger. Artie had never seen Dumpster Man so frustrated. Dumpster Man started to gnaw on the prickly rope.

The Indian said to the half-wightling/half-etherealian, "I think you bring more Evil than your tiny round friend. For no man can fly, yet you claim to fly, and you have the wings to prove it. Nothing but tales of wicked sorcery come from your mouth."

"OUCH! Stop that!" And again Artie and Dumpster Man felt the sharp points in their sides, prodding them to keep walking toward. . .well, they had no idea where.

Artie leaned into Dumpster Man and spoke just above a whisper. "Great. Just keep on a-provkin' 'em. I be sure that'll do us a lot of good. Now keep yer trap shut and just be a-followin' till we get ta where they be a-takin' us. Then we'll come up with somethin' ta be a-makin' an escape so we can be a-findin' Cub and the others."

"No talking. You have talked enough. Keep walking. No talking."

"OUCH!"

Artie and Dumpster Man sealed their lips and walked without another word. They coughed a few times when the dust kicked up in the wind. They could feel their skin being burned by the hot sun; their faces and hands were chapped. Dumpster Man's wings were getting heavier from all the sand collecting in his bound appendages. All of the desert's terrain looked the same as far as they could see—flat, cracked, parched, and miserable, and scattered with broken stalactites.

Cub gathered together Marshall and the rest of the group to devise a plan. "Y'all know time's runnin' out—and fast," Cub said. "We need to get that stalactite and high-tail it back to Boulder Dache so's I can get it into the socket. I promised SUL I'd do it, and He's countin' on me." They decided to start their mad dash for Dry Bone Desert before morning.

They arrived just as the sun was beginning to paint the sand. They could hear the train whistle in the distance coming from the west. Instead of traveling in a circle, the train now ran back and forth from Ty's Corner to Boulder Dache—the long way.

"Look guys. Smoke signals! Over there." Cub pointed southeast and everyone headed in that direction.

"OUCH!" Nash felt something sharp poke him in the back. When the others turned they saw four Indians behind them, two on bareback horses and the other two on palameetahs. Boyd backed away from the palameetahs; he appeared to be uncomfortable around them.

Cub perked up. "Are we glad to see you guys! We're here to find the singin' stalactite."

"Who sent you?"

Cub hopped up on Shiner's back, so he could be at eye level, and approached the Indians. They stiffened, weapons readied. Cub spoke. "SUL sent me. I'm The Carrier. I'm Cub."

The Indian in charge gave the signal for the others to lower their weapons. When Nash realized the Indians had only lowered their weapons half-way, he and the others began to step back to join Boyd. The head Indian spoke, "Who is this SUL you speak of? How can we be sure you speak the truth?"

"SUL. . .the Grand Wizard. Ain't ya heard-uh the Grand Wizard?"

"We have. And He speaks to us. But again, how can we be sure you do not lie?"

"'Cause I got this." Cub reached around and patted Marshall's backpack. At Cub's motions the Indians raised their spears again.

"What is that you carry on your back?"

Cub flushed. He realized he had just backed himself into a corner. He had been so excited about reaching Dry Bone Desert and meeting up with the Indians, he forgot about keeping Marshall a secret. He had learned in Copper Junction that most Indians were peaceful people who love the land and all that nature has to offer. He and Nash used to play with the Indian children back home. Sometimes their families would get together to feast. They would tell stories of their cultures and learn from each other. All of this went through Cub's mind in a flash, but he also realized that the more people who knew about Marshall the better the chances were for being taken or getting hurt.

Cub reasoned in his mind, Blackjack died along with his outlaw gang in the train wreck; that should be the end-uh the real bad Evil. These are nice Indians. Anyone else left who'd try to take Marshall wouldn't last 'cause me and my friends'd take 'em out. No one else saw us comin' here, so me and Marshall oughta be safe even if we tell 'em. Besides, I need that singin' stalactite, and they might help me find the right one. Plus I know Chief Eagle Bear. That's it! Chief Eagle Bear.

Cub spoke up, "Chief Eagle Bear used to come to our house with his family for supper. Ma'd fix the best. . ."

"Chief Eagle Bear? What do you know of Chief Eagle Bear?"

"Only that he was the greatest Chief that ever lived."

The Indian was silent for several seconds. Then he demanded, "Ride with us."

"Can my friends come too?" asked Cub.

After another long pause the Indian answered, "Yes. Your friends may come."

Everyone else loaded onto Pancake. Cub was glad he had distracted the Indians from Marshall, and he was happy to follow them, all the while saying under his breath, "Sing to me my magic stalactite, sing to me."

Artie was dangling next to Dumpster Man, their feet at the same level, not touching the ground. They were hanging from a cross log stretched between two Y-shaped poles. Smoke began to rise from the outer edge of the large pyramid of sticks beneath them.

Artie sounded nervous. "I've heard tell that chukkons dunna make fer good eatin'."

Dumpster Man picked up on the ploy. "And I can vouch that my kind make for some tough meat. No good, no good at all. That's me—tough, chewy, nasty. Eww, ick, yuck."

Chief Wolf Star spoke. "We do not eat the flesh of those who speak."

"Well then, that be a relief."

"But we do take pride in burnt offerings," the chief said.

Artie and Dumpster Man looked at one another, and put all their trust in SUL. But their hopes were slim knowing SUL's current condition.

The stalactites, lying in the desert sand, illuminated with the colors of the sunrise. Prismatic rainbows bobbed all around from the vibrations of Pancake's, Shiner's, and the Indians' horses' steps. Cub could hear all of the stalactites singing, but he was listening for the truly magic one.

They arrived at the Indians' camp. A rather odd sight met their eyes. "Artie? Dumpster Man? Is that you?" shouted Cub.

"Cub! Aye, it be us. Be a-tellin' 'em who we be. We dunna want ta be a-burnin' at the stake."

Cub guided Shiner to the closet Indian on horseback. "Who's your chief?"

Startled by the youngster's bravado, the Indian pointed his spear right at Cub's nose. Cub's eyes crossed, and he froze. The Indian spoke in a gruff voice. "You are a brazen boy. Why do you come to Dry Bone Desert?"

Fidgeting, Cub answered, "I'm The Carrier. I'm Cub. Please don't burn my friends at the stake. I need 'em to protect me from bad guys. And I don't think you're bad guys. . ." Cub pointed northwest. ". . .but there shore are plenty out there. Please sir, may I speak to your chief? I know Chief Eagle Bear."

At that the Indian lowered his weapon. Puzzled, the Indian asked, "How do you know Chief Eagle Bear?"

"Before I came to the Lower West he and his family'd come and feast with me and my family. He taught me many things 'bout your culture and all the cool stuff you guys've done."

The Indian stared at Cub. Cub never flinched.

"Uh, the fire be a-gettin' a mite bit hot o'er here."

"Please. Let me speak to your chief. I need my friends." Tears came to Cub's eyes and the Indian's heart must have softened just enough to give in.

"Come down from your horse young one," said the Indian. Cub dismounted and the Indian led Cub by the arm to the chief. "Chief Wolf Star. This boy professes to be The Carrier and claims he was a friend of Chief Eagle Bear."

"Let go of him."

The Indian who held Cub gave him a taunting shove when he released his arm.

Chief Wolf Star continued. "You are but a boy. How do you know Chief Eagle Bear?"

Cub proceeded to explain.

"You say you are The Carrier? How can you prove such a mighty claim?"

"Because he has me!" shouted a voice from behind Cub.

"Who said that? Are you an Evil one who throws your voice using dark magic?"

"Cub! The heat is heating up—hurry!" Dumpster Man felt the bottoms of his wings starting to singe.

Cub grabbed Marshall from his backpack and held him face-to-face with Chief Wolf Star. Marshall spoke. "I am Marshall Law. Cub is The Carrier."

Artie and Dumpster Man were lifting their legs as the flames climbed higher. "Hurry Cub!"

"Marshall Law?" Chief Wolf Star asked. "The same Marshall Law who caused us to drop into the Lower West through the greedy doings of thieves?"

"I suppose you could say that." Marshall blushed and zipped open a smile.

Buck and Trixie flew to Artie and Dumpster Man. Trixie shouted, "Artie, Dumpster Man, whadda we do? We can't get in to untie the ropes—the heat's too much for our wings." A glowing piece of floating ash nicked Buck's wing; Trixie was quick to blow it out.

Chief Wolf Star tried to pry open the book. In frustration he commanded, "Open yourself Marshall Law."

"I cannot open for anyone but The Carrier. You, of all people, should know this."

"Then call for this young one who claims to be The Carrier to command you to open."

Marshall said, "Cub. We must trust them. Ask me to open."

Cub's lips pursed. Unwillingly he asked, "Marshall, would you please open?"

Marshall's gears began to turn. Chief Wolf Star stepped back.

The bottoms of Dumpster Man's feet were starting to smolder, and the bottoms of his wings were dancing with flames. He wrestled enough that the binding ropes on one wing finally loosened, but the more he flapped that wing in an attempt to put the flames out, the more the movement stoked the fire. Artie's legs were cramping, and he was running out of strength to hold his feet up.

While the Indians were focused on Chief Wolf Star, Buck and Trixie felt it was the opportune time to rescue Artie and Dumpster Man. They made their move. "Bristol, come with us. We need some help," whispered Buck in Bristol's ear, then he jetted through the air with Trixie.

Bristol coaxed Pancake to follow the Pee-Wees' sparkles to the fire. When he arrived at the fire, he shout-whispered to the dangling prisoners, "Hold on." He reached for his canteen. In a panic he fumbled trying to undo the lid. He tossed the water onto the fire but it was no use; the fire was too big for the few drops he had left.

Marshall's gears lined up and he opened. The Indians, including the chief, were in awe.

"Put the fire out!" shouted Chief Wolf Star. "We must not burn these strange ones at the stake, or the Grand Wizard promises to return the same wrath to us."

Several Indians rode to the edge of the fire and began to knock down the burning sticks. Those on foot gathered handfuls of sand and threw it onto the fire.

Cub left Marshall at the chief's feet then hopped back up on Shiner. Shiner had no qualms about running into the smoldering pile of coals. She kicked the embers out from under her hooves, giving her a cooler surface on which to stand. Cub stood on her back and untied Artie and Dumpster Man making certain both landed square on Shiner's back. Everyone cheered.

Nash took one look at the burnt ends of Dumpster Man's wings and fainted. Cub, without hesitating, pointed at the charred ends and said, "Be now whole." All marveled at the sight of the restoration.

Dumpster Man snapped his wings in a wide spread. Twisting and turning, he admired them. "Cub, thank you. Thank you so much." He danced a jig, and noticed the abundance of confused expressions. He stopped and folded his wings. "Sorry folks, it's just that I didn't expect that. Carry on." He bowed with extensive drama.

Cub trotted Shiner back to Chief Wolf Star and said, "Thank you. Thank you for believing me chief."

"I am sorry for the torment we brought your friends. But we were given orders from the Grand Wizard to. . ."

Cub broke in, "It's OK. I understand. I'd-uh done the same thing."

"Whadda ye mean ye'd-uh done the same thin'?"

"Artie. If'n I'd been told by SUL to protect the magic singin' stalactite, I'd-uh done the same thing, 'specially if'n I didn't know somebody and they just showed up like you and Dumpster Man did. And I must say, the two-uh ya make quite a pair. That leads others to be even more cautious. I'm glad they tried to burn ya."

The awkward moment hung for only a second, then Chief Wolf Star finished, "I think The Carrier means he is pleased we did our best to protect the singing stalactite."

"Yeah, somethin' like that. I didn't mean I wanted y'all to burn, I'm just glad these guys're keepin' The Element safe."

Chief Wolf Star and his tribe invited Cub to dismount Shiner. He did so, and they each came to him and asked for forgiveness, which Cub was more than happy to deliver.

"Now, can I be bold and ask where the magic singin' stalactite is? I heard lots of 'em singin' on the way in, but they was all off key. So now that ya know I'm The Carrier, where can I find it?"

Chief Wolf Star hung his head. "We do not know. It is among those that are scattered throughout the desert, but we have never heard it singing over those that try to sing."

"But ya do know it's out there somewhere?"

"Yes Cub. . .out there, somewhere." He made a sweeping arc with his hand. "That is all we know."

"But this is one big desert. How're we ever gonna find it in time?" Cub broke down and cried. Marshall wobble-walked to his side.

Little Sadie held him. She said, "We'll find it Cubster. We got Artie and Dumpster Man with us now. And we're the Bristol Posse—remember?"

Cub nodded.

# Chapter 35

## "It's Gotta Be This One!"

The Indians prepared a feast unlike any Cub had ever sunk his teeth into. He and all of his friends gathered around a very large table crafted from stones atop stones, the flattest ones on top. The conversation and laughter was deafening.

Artie spoke over the laughter, "This be a-remindin' me of Honky-Tonk Hurley's Farmhouse Tavern back home on Maycly."

At one point The Man Behind The Dumpster got so involved in animating his story he jumped on top of the table, spread his wings, flew into the air, and did a somersault. Buck and Trixie joined him to add some sparkle.

Nash and Boyd did not talk much. They were too busy filling their bellies with the array of scrumptious vittles. Bristol kept busy telling stories of his past, in between bites, to anyone willing to listen. Marshall had been given a very special place atop the table between Cub and Little Sadie. Cub could not have been happier to see everyone smiling and getting along, but he was concerned about the delay. As hard as he tried, he could not relax and forget about the urgency of his pressing duty.

Throughout the entire feast Artie and Dumpster Man had been seated on either side of Chief Wolf Star. They became the best of friends.

After the persimmon cake had been reduced to nothing but crumbs, Chief Wolf Star stood and whistled. His companion wolf, Grey Hunter, came to his side. Everyone was in awe when the chief's feathery headdress illuminated and Grey Hunter's eyes glowed. Chief Wolf Star leaned down and put his ear to Grey Hunter's muzzle. All quieted as Grey Hunter howled in a near whisper time and again.

Chief Wolf Star spoke with dignity. "We have been brought together for a reason. I have heard from the Grand Wizard." Cub perked up and wanted to hear more. "He has brought us together as He says there is strength in numbers. We are to help Cub find the magic singing stalactite." Everyone cheered. "Cub, you are to devise the plan to find the stalactite you need."

Cub thought for a bit then spoke, "All right. Let's split up. . ."

"No way!" Nash blurted. "The last time we did that, bad things happened."

Cub closed his eyes and sighed.

Marshall glared at Nash and said, "When will you ever learn?" Then he regained his composure, and his face took on a pleasant look. He said to Cub, "Continue if you will please."

"Thank ya Marshall. OK. Like I said, I think we need to split up into groups. Me and Marshall, Little Sadie, Trixie, and Dumpster Man'll take Shiner and go together. We'll cover the north. Artie, you go with Nash, Bristol, Boyd, and Buck; watch over 'em and protect 'em. Y'all can ride Pancake and cover the south. Chief Wolf Star, we're gonna need you and all your bravest men to keep a line-uh protection 'round both-uh our groups. And remember, I have to be the one to carry The Element back to Boulder Dache to the elemental shrine. Got it?"

"Got it!" came the resounding reply from everyone present.

Bristol, Nash, Boyd, and Artie rode Pancake, following Buck who was flying in and out of the stalactites, all of them listening for something special.

"This here desert's hot, and these singin' stat...tat...lacs... pipes're drivin' me crazy!"

"Button it Nash. Do ya ever do anything but whine and complain?" asked Bristol.

"Yeah, when things's goin' right I get all excited and talk 'bout how good they are."

"That's great. You're only happy when your circumstances make ya happy?"

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Well, sonny, all I can say is, when ya come to your senses and realize that good things ain't gonna be happenin' ever second-uh ever day, I think you'll learn to enjoy life a mite better."

Nash scowled and said, "Well that don't make no sense."

Artie sensed the tension in Bristol's voice and changed the subject. "I have ta say I be agreein' with Nash. These singin' stalactites be a bit much on the nerves, doncha know?"

Bristol picked up on Artie's intention. "Yup. I'll give ya that one." They rode a bit further.

Artie, as always when it came to animals, seemed concerned about Pancake. He said to Bristol, "Looks like Pancake be a-gettin' mighty hot—and sunburned. How 'bout ye drop us here Bristol. I've been a-talkin' ta SUL, inwardly of course, and e'en though He be in a compromised state of health, He said He can get all but one of us to Boulder Dache in a snap without Pancake."

"How?" Nash asked.

"Ye dunna need ta be a-worryin' 'bout the how. Ye just need ta be a-trustin' Him." Artie smiled big.

Bristol said, "I know I trust him, and I think you're right 'bout ol' Pancake here. He and I can hop the train as soon as we get to Deadwood Doorway and head to Gopher Gut, then on to my cabin. He needs to get out-uh this sun."

"But what if'n an animal stall ain't open?" Nash was squirrely.

"I be a-sayin' again, Nash, ye need ta be a-trustin' SUL."

Bristol agreed then continued, "I'll get Pancake situated at the cabin, then I'll meet y'all in Boulder Dache. Whadda ya think Buck?" Bristol did not get an answer. "Buck? Whadda ya think?" He turned to shout his question over the squealing, horrible-sounding stalactites. "Buck?....BUCK! Wait a daggum minute. Artie? Nash? Where'd y'all go?"

The sounds of the Indians maintaining the perimeters were just this side of eerie. They bayed coyote, fox, and wolf cries to keep strangers and dangers away. Cub could not tell for certain, but he hoped the growling cougar noises were coming from the Indians as well.

Focus, Cub, focus. Cub closed his eyes and did just as he had told himself. He was sure it was magic when he was finally able to drown out the songs of the un-needed stalactites and, for the first time, hear a beautiful song, the most beautiful music he had ever heard. I'll bet that's what the etherealians on Maycly sound like. "Guys! I think I hear it. No, I'm shore I hear it."

Little Sadie, Trixie and Dumpster Man came to Cub, Marshall and Shiner. "Whadda ya hear?"

"The magic singin' stalactite. I'm shore that's it 'cause it's the only one I hear. And it sounds beautiful. Don't y'all think so?"

All leaned, cupped their ears, and listened hard. "Nope. Can't hear it over the others."

"Whadda ya mean 'over the others?' It's singin' plain as day, all by itself, and it don't sound like any-uh the others. Now shush and keep listenin'." They all tried again to hear it. Cub shouted, "There. It's comin' from over there." He pointed to the north. "I think it's behind that big ol' sandstone rock. Let's go."

When they got to the rock, Dumpster Man landed with ease atop the high-up sandy surface. He kept a watchful eye. The others joined Cub behind the large rock of red sand where there lay a stalactite, singing away.

"Now d'ya hear it? It's gotta be this one."

Little Sadie shook her head. "I see it, but I shore don't hear it Cubster. Shoot, it ain't even singin'. Ya done gone plum crazy from this heat."

Marshall chimed in, "No, Little Sadie, he has not. In fact he is plum on."

"And how would ya know that, Marshall? Can you hear it singin'?"

"No. I am just guessing, but if Cub is the only one who hears it, then the odds would have it that stalactite is the one."

Trixie flew in, all excited. "Well then scoop it up Cub, and let's get it to Boulder Dache."

Cub reached for the singing stalactite. His hand began to warm when he touched the smooth, hard, opaque surface. He slipped into a trance and stood frozen, staring up at Dumpster Man atop the rock. Dumpster Man flew to him. He wrapped Cub in his wings and held him. "Cub? Cub, are you all right?"

In a few seconds Cub tilted his head back and looked up at Dumpster Man. He gasped for a breath and said, "Yeah. I'm all right. Somehow I just saw the paintin's on the cave wall dancin'. I gotta go—right now! But I need to let Nash and the others know. Whadda I do?"

Dumpster Man spoke, "Cub, I've got a plan." He spun Cub around to face his friends. "Everyone, Cub has seen the paintings on the wall, and more of them are dancing. I can travel the fastest, but I can only carry one. That one has to be Cub." He unfolded his wings.

Cub panicked. "But what 'bout Marshall? He has to be with me."

"Not from here he doesn't." Dumpster Man spoke directly to Cub. "You know what needs to be done and where. Little Sadie will care for Marshall, I promise."

"He is correct Cub," added Marshall.

Dumpster Man pulled Marshall's backpack (with him in it) from Cub's back and handed it to Little Sadie.

She took him without question and put him on her back. "I will take care of 'im Cub. I promise." She crossed her heart.

Cub swallowed the lump in his throat. He looked Little Sadie square in the eye. "I have to trust ya, don't I?"

Her minimal-toothed smile warmed Cub's heart. She said, "Ya do, and ya can. Think 'bout it, Cub. With Blackjack dead I ain't got no reason to turn Marshall in for a reward even if'n I wanted to."

"And I'll be with 'er," Trixie said. "Us girls can handle it. We'll find the others and tell 'em. And we will see ya in Boulder Dache...with Marshall. Ya got my word on it." Trixie sliced her finger across the brim of her hat and gave a solid nod.

Dumpster Man's voice held an urgency. "Cub. Time's running out. We need to go." Cub gave Little Sadie a grandson-style kiss, wiped his lips, then jumped into Dumpster Man's arms, and they rose into the air.

Cub looked down from Dumpster Man's grasp. "We'll see y'all there!"

"Hold on tight Cub. I don't think you're quite familiar with this style of flying."

Cub grabbed hold of Dumpster Man's arms. Dumpster Man was right, Cub had not experienced such a rush.

# Chapter 36

## Things Are Falling into Place...Or Are They?

Just as Cub arrived at the elemental shrine, a cloud poofed into sight. Cub watched his friends emerge from the cloud. Shocked at how fast they had followed, he asked, "What is that thing?"

Artie proudly responded, "It be a wispy-coach, a little somethin' from SUL ta be a-helpin' us out." Cub watched the coach's glistening mist fade.

"Where's Bristol?" Cub asked.

Nash answered, "He was gonna take Pancake back to the cabin then hop the train to Boulder Dache."

Cub frowned and said, "That don't sound like him. How come he didn't stay with ya?"

"I don't know." Nash flailed his arms. "I only know what he said he was gonna do."

"It be OK Cub. I was there and Nash be a-tellin' the truth."

"I ain't doubtin' Nash, I'm just sayin' that don't sound like Bristol. He'd be more likely to stay with y'all."

"Well, there be nothin' ta be a-worryin' 'bout. I kept a close eye on him as he rode off. And let me just say that blunderpokes dunna live up ta their names. They be much faster than a blunderin' poke. Bristol'll be here in no time." Artie winked at Cub.

Cub, wishing Bristol could be with them but understanding how important it was to take good care of Pancake, put the stalactite under his arm. He picked up Marshall and gave him a quick hug. "I'd hug ya longer, but I got a job to do."

"Ya shore do," said an unfamiliar voice. Marshall was ripped from Cub's arms and hurled through the air at the hands of no one. He landed hard on the cave floor. Everyone but Cub was then violently lifted from the ground; they slammed into the walls and were plastered there.

Cub could not believe his eyes. "But. . .but. . .I thought ya was. . .was. . ."

"Dead?" Blackjack belted out a rotten guffaw. "Boy, I got news for ya." He raised his arms and did a cocky spin. "I'm a long ways from dead." He cupped his big gnarly hand under Cub's chin. His boozed-up breath made Cub's eyes water. Blackjack's voice became all sweet, "But you, dear little Carrier Cub, and your friends, are gonna be dead." He roughly shoved Cub's chin aside as he straightened up, and his voice went back to its normal gruffness, "Now gimme that stalactite."

"NEVER!" Cub took off. When he reached the exit from the elemental shrine, rocks exploded and crumbled. The only way out was now blocked and Cub had no time to dig through the rubble. He darted into a small, deep crack in the wall he hoped was longer than Blackjack's arm. He screamed when Blackjack grabbed his leg. "Lemme go! Lemme go!" Cub felt himself being dragged from his safe haven. Blackjack yanked him out, held him upside down by the leg, and shook him until he dropped the stalactite. Then Blackjack tossed Cub toward the wall where he became magically plastered there with his friends.

"Cub! Do somethin'!" shouted Trixie.

"And what'm I s'posed to do? I'm glued here with the rest-uh ya's." Cub strained to pull his arm away from the wall.

Rocks tumbled from the pile at the exit. "Am I too late for the party?"

"Bristol! Blackjack's got the stalactite. Don't let him put it in the socket. Ya gotta stop him. . .now!" Cub's command went in one of Bristol's ears and out the other.

"I'm here ol' man." Bristol said to Blackjack. "Good to see ya ain't dead. Now let's get busy puttin' that stalactite in the socket. Since ya cain't reach, and obviously me neither, why don't ya just lift me up and I'll stick it in the socket."

"Sounds good to me," grumbled Blackjack with a smug tone.

"NO! NO! Stop, Bristol! What're ya doin'? I trusted ya. Ya mean ya was on Blackjack's side this whole time? Tell me it ain't so." Cub was confused and devastated. All the time they had spent looking for Bristol, the fact that Nash and Night Crawler had rescued him, and everything Bristol had done for them—and all they had done for him—flashed before Cub's eyes.

Bristol laughed in a wicked way.

Cub was dumbfounded. Again, he tried to pull his arm from the wall.

"OK, c'mon shorty. Times a-wastin'." Blackjack picked up Bristol. Bristol weaseled around until he was standing on Blackjack's shoulders. Bristol raised the stalactite. Just before he stuck it in the socket more rocks crumbled from the exit.

"Am I too late for the party?"

"Bristol! Why's there two-uh ya in here?" shouted Nash.

Cub shouted, "Bristol, get out-uh the way." Cub gave one last effort and his arm pulled from the wall. He pointed at the rock pile and shouted "Be now dust!"

"What're ya doin' Cub? The paintins' are all dancin' and the vines are leavin'." Nash was screaming so hard he was frothing at the mouth.

"I know what I'm doin'. Just watch." He gained composure and pointed to the stalactite and shouted again, "Be now dust!"

When the stalactite crumbled, its singing stopped. Blackjack dropped Bristol and the focus changed.

Everyone fell from the wall. Artie jumped to his feet and looked at the Bristol who was with Blackjack. That Bristol changed into a hideous being. Artie gasped, "Lucasphair!"

The strange being approached Artie and shouted for all to hear, "Not quite, little chukkon, but you're close. I am a changeling sent by Lucasphair. You see, Blackjack promised to serve Lucasphair because Lucasphair promised to let Blackjack live forever if he did so."

"Holy whah! This canna be a-happenin'." Artie reached and pulled the bow from his back and an arrow from his quiver. With his experience he was quick to shoot the arrow at Lucasphair's changeling. The arrow pierced the exact spot where a heart should have been, and the changeling exploded into smoldering dust.

Cub and the others began to close in on Blackjack. He shouted, "You'll never catch me!" Boyd and the real Bristol made a dive for Blackjack. But as they flew through the air, Blackjack waved his arm in a circle over his head and turned into a cloud of black smoke. Boyd and the real Bristol collided. As the dense cloud sped off, it gathered the dust of the changeling.

"What is goin' on?" shouted Little Sadie.

"I'll be explainin' that in a bit. Right now we need ta be a-gettin' Cub up ta that socket with what's left of the stalactite." Artie grabbed Cub by the hand.

Cub shouted, "WAIT!" He pointed at the stalactite dust. "Be now whole!"

The stalactite dust whirled and sparked. In no time it was back to its original shape and singing its beautiful song. Cub said, "OK! Now let's go!" He and Artie raced to Dumpster Man.

Dumpster Man too had just fallen from the wall. The weight of his wings had caused him to tumble and land smack dab on his head. "I'm up! I'm OK! I can fly Cub to the socket."

Everyone stood back to give Dumpster Man room; he needed all he could get to allow the freedom of movement of his enormous wings. He took Cub in his arms. Buck and Trixie flew alongside. Up they went. Cub reached up and shoved the stalactite into the socket.

"Why ain't nothin' happenin'?" shouted Nash. "You're The Carrier. Really. I don't get it. I don't get who or what Bristol is. . .was. . . and how Blackjack's alive. Holy moly Cub, c'mon, do somethin'! The paintin's're all dancin', and the vine. . .there's only a nip-uh it left."

Cub feared the worst. His thoughts were not pleasant. I failed. I ain't nothin' but a failure. I let my friends down. I let SUL down. Just then something inside his pocket began to burn his leg. "Ouch! THE GEM!"

"What gem?" Bristol hollered.

"The one that's burnin' a hole in my pocket! The gem Queen Iona gave me."

When Cub pulled the blazing topaz stone from his pocket, oohs and ahhs broke the silence. He pulled the stalactite from the socket and inlayed the gem in its respective, now-glowing place. The stalactite began to sing a new song that everyone could hear. Fog fell from it as Cub raised it back up to the socket. The magic singing stalactite slid from his hand and into the socket on its own. No one thought to look whether Cub had managed it before the vine tip disappeared.

The paintings stopped dancing. The fog poured out and covered the floor until the layer became exactly seven inches deep. At that moment the fog stopped seeping from the magic singing stalactite. The stalactite became silent but continued to glow, pulsating in a slow rhythm.

Dumpster Man lowered himself and Cub to the floor. Everyone rushed to greet them with hugs and cheers. Marshall wobble-walked through the fog to Cub. Cub bent down and picked up Marshall.

"You did it Cub. You are one brave Carrier for certain," said Marshall.

Cub could feel his stomach tying in knot after knot. "I only hope the other Carriers ain't bein' fooled by Lucasphair's bad guys."

"Three cheers for Cub!" hollered Nash. "Hip hip. . ."

". . .hooray!" After the two final cheers Buck and Trixie flew to Cub and drenched his hair with sparkles.

Bristol pushed his way in. "I wanna know why Blackjack's still 'round. Anybody got any idees?"

"We'd all like to hear that one," said Buck.

Artie leaned around Bristol's shoulder and said, "That be a story we'll be a-leavin' ta tell on Maycly. I'll be a-bettin' Iona will be more than happy ta tell ye all o'er a round of drinks at Tales and Tall Ones." He winked at Buck and gave Cub a double thumbs-up. He whispered to Dumpster Man, "No way will I be a-spoilin' the moment with a dark tale of Evil."

Cub looked at Marshall, then at his other friends and spoke, "I guess we was purdy good, huh?"

Marshall glowed.

"We shore was. We're the rootin-tootin' Bristol Posse." Buck and Trixie shot their pistols into the air and let them land in their holsters on their own.

Cub laughed, but his tone turned a bit somber when he looked around the elemental shrine and up at the stalactite. "I only hope we got it done in time."

Planet Land began to rumble.

THE END

# BOOTNOTES

1- spill the beans: tell the truth; don't keep secrets

2 - thumb busters: singleshot pistols

3 - skunk eggs: onions

4 - soft tack: bread

5 - palmeetah: a fantastical animal, part horse (palamino) and part cheetah

6 - Buntline Special: a mythological long-barreled Colt Single Action Army revolver created in a biography of Wyatt Earp

7 - Pee-Wees on the wall: a variation of "a fly on the wall" meaning to go unnoticed while eavesdropping

8 - plume-moose: a fantastical animal which looks like a moose but is only about the size of a moose colt, and has plume-lie feathery wings

9 - marshamaller: dialectical mispronunciation of marshmallow

10 - bit house: a cheap saloon

11 - lush-crib: a saloon or tavern

12 - young-gun poker face: the look on someone's face that portrays an attitude of "I'm invisible"

13 - sinker: biscuit

14 - a hitch in the giddy-up: not feeling well

15 - down to the blanket: almost broke

16 - scrub: a horse of little value

17 - hobble your lip: keep quiet

18 - hornswoggled: to be cheated or tricked; to have the wool pulled over ones' eyes

19 - rook: to cheat, to dupe

20 - tongue lashing: a harsh scolding

21 - muck forks: hands

22 - zoonin': (Dialectical for 'zooning'): humming, buzzing

23 - stewing in one's own juice: suffering from one's own actions

24 - wamble-cropped: humiliated

25 - shank-uh the evenin': (dialectical for 'shank of the evening): latter part of the afternoon

26 - kettled bronc: a bucking horse

27 - yellow hammer: gold coin

28 - air the paunch: to vomit

29 - bite the ground: to be killed

30 - twistical: tortuous, unfair, not quite normal

31 - mud pipes: boots

32 - set-to: argument

33 - euchred: outsmarted; outwitted; suckered into something

34 - saddle bum: drifter

35 - hair case: hat

36 - hair pants: chaps made from hair-covered hide

37 - let drive: to let slip

38 - catawamptiously chawed up: completely demolished; utterly defeated

39 - scribbling stick: writing implement (pen, pencil)

40 - gaping maw: large, wide-open mouth

41 - tetched-in-the-head: crazy, loony

42 - burry: dialectical mispronunciation of bury

43 - cady: cowboy hat

44 - corral dust: lies, tall tales

45 - jo-fired lickspittle: immensely mean parasite, one who will stoop to any dirty work

46 - trotter boxes: boots

47 - toffer: a female who dresses well

48 - limp fish: a flacid hand, one with no grip, one that merely hangs there

49 - fightin's words: ones that could easily provoke an altercation

50 - barkin' at a knot: doing something useless, wasting your time, trying something impossible

51 - upscale town duds: fancy clothes

52 - cut stick: leave immediately

53 - bust our bustles: make haste, hurry

54 - barking irons: pistols

55 - two track: a one-way dirt road that has two distinct ruts for wheels

56 - squeasels: fantastical creatures; part squirrel and part weasel

# HIDDEN EARTH SERIES

## Volume 1: Maycly the Trilogy

### Part 1 "Two Altered Worlds"
### Part 2 "The Battle of Trust and Treachery"

### Part 3 "The Queen"

Maycly is a world everyone longs to experience. Its creative creatures, fantastic flora, and stunning lineup of characters immerses you in the action. You'll find yourself believing you are living the adventures, the trials, and the triumphs in a world where love is the greatest magic of all.

## Volume 2: Planet Land

### "The Adventures of Cub and Nash"

Jump into this fantasy western adventure where cowboys aren't always nice, horses aren't quite what you're used to, and time is off kilter. The race is on, and it's up to two ten-year-old boys to do their part for the sake of Good. A fast-paced, rootin'-tootin' adventure that will have you laughing, crying, and cheering all the way.

## Volume 3: Planet Water

### "Draugar of the Abyss"

Board an enchanted tall-ship along with Arrowanna and her crew. It will take you deep beneath the waves into the haunted caves where once-dead vikings dwell. This aquatic adventure will have you on the edge of your captain's chair as you dodge close calls, stumble upon fascinating information, and try to make it to the castle on time.

## Volume 4: Planet Sky

### "Search of the Winged Carrier"

(to be released at a later date)

Kiwi makes a magical discovery. She ventures out in search of answers from the mystical one no one dares visit. But when Kiwi learns the answers, she realizes she has gotten herself into quite a predicament. Danger abounds as dragons and fowl become entangled in the web of adventure that takes Kiwi and her best friends on a journey of aerial excitement.

## Volume 5: Planet Fire

### "The Volcano of Temptation"

(to be released at a later date)

As if finding out he's The Carrier isn't enough, the thing Hehu is supposed to be carrying keeps moving. The action is nonstop in this prehistoric Polynesian, molten lava-filled adventure.

## Volume 6: SUL's New Earth

### "The Dreams, The Quest, The Magic"

(to be released at a later date)

The grand finale to the Hidden Earth Series is spectacular. Discover the dreams, the quest, the magic. One last epic battle of Good versus Evil is fought in a way you can't even imagine. Your journey will end, and you'll wave goodbye to your favorite characters. You'll discover why Maycly is a world everyone longs to experience and a place where love is the greatest magic of all.

