Chapter 3 by Carycomic
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The Valdez gang quickly overcame their initial shock and awe. Rallying just enough to scatter and run for whatever cover they could find and counter-attack from. But, it was really no use. Even concentrated fusillades of Henry rifle fire did no more than tickle Becky Cousins' bare skin. Whereas her feet crushed every hiding place these bandidos took shelter in. Dislodging them into the path of bullets from the San Blas Kid's Winchester Model 1873 (which he switched to after emptying both revolvers).
It ultimately reached a point where Jon Echegaray--a Basque mercenary who had joined the gang after deserting from the Foreign Legion, during the French occupation of Mexico--took a desperate gamble. Standing up on two galloping horses (one foot on each of their backs), he used a jai alai cesta to throw a bundle of lit dynamite sticks right towards the giantess' face!
Becky saw it in time, however. Kneeling down on her right knee, and flicking it back in the Basque's direction with her giant right index finger. Consequently, the terrified mercenary had no choice but to sacrifice his tenuous footing in order to catch the explosive bundle in the cesta and re-direct its trajectory behind him! Thereby landing flat on his face, and knocking all the wind out of himself. As a result, he was still face down on the ground when the dynamite exploded. Showering him with dirt and loose gravel!
When he finally did regain enough second wind, to roll over on to his back, he found the business end of the Kid's Winchester pointed right at him.
"Donde esta Prairie Wolf?" the latter bluntly demanded.
The Basque mercenary weakly pointed, with his left hand, at the one building still standing; the horse barn. So, Becky stomped over to it and (quite literally) raised the roof with her right hand.
There, cowering in the hay loft, was the mixed-blood Arapaho who had once worked for her father. Still wearing that dome-shaped black sombrero that resembled nothing less than a cross between a top hat and a derby.
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From THE MEMOIRS OF "MALARKEY" JOHNSON
"Over the next five years, it became real obvious (to all concerned) that Becky and Dooley's 'puppy' love was becomin' a heap more'n that. You could see it the way they looked at each other, whenever they went horseback ridin' together. They didn't know it at the time, o'course. But, them rides was bein' spied on by Prairie Wolf. An Arapaho mestizo who served as Cousins' interpreter whenever he bartered for other people's cattle that had been rustled by Comanches!"
"That, in turn, didn't sit well with Cousins. He had plans to marry his daughter off to Jeb Daniels (son of the local bank president), five years down the road. And, he'd be danged if he was gonna see them plans ruined by some Injun b*****d!"
"Well, sir; all that steam came to a head the night of Becky's sweet sixteen party, back in 1874. Dooley's sixteenth birthday had been a couple months, earlier. And, Becky had managed to attend it. So, the Reardons felt it only right and proper to reciprocate."
"Every eligible lad in Tonkawa Springs was lined up to take turns a-dancin' with her. And, she was lady-like enough to dance with each one at least twice. But, when Dooley tried to cut in, for his second turn, Jeb Daniels just flat out ignored him. So, Dooley tapped him on the shoulder a second time. Only a tad more insistent-like than the first."
"Jeb lost his temper and shot off his mouth."
" 'Get lost, Injun! Go dance with the squaw who misbegot you!' "
"Dooley immediately swerved him about, belted him in the jaw, and knocked him flat on his keester!!"
"Well, sir; everybody stopped in their tracks and stared. Not sayin' a word...till Jeb Daniels pulled out one of them over/under derringers and aimed it at Dooley!"
tbc
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