Surprise

Article by R. K. Wigal

Chance Munro and his friend, Brack, walked out of the Barstow Saloon where each had quenched his thirst, and Chance had turned down an ominous poker invitation with a bullet.  Brack spoke.  "You're quite the marksman. Where'd you learn to shoot like that, the war?"

"I lived through four years of war because I could shoot like that.  My pa taught me to shoot when I was a kid because that was the way to put meat on the table.  Do you have any experience with firearms?"

"Well, I never fired one of these six-shooters before."

"Great!  Well we'll see about your firearm skills later.  For now, let's head for the livery stable.  I wanna check on Shiloh before we call it a night.  Besides, I only paid to stable him for the day and I wanna make sure he can stay the night."

"Go ahead.  I'll meet you at Mrs. Swenson's boarding house."

"Uh-uh!  After that little ruckus back there, the last thing either one of us oughta be is alone!  You're coming with me!"

"Well, since you put it that way..."  Brack couldn't help laughing a little as he said it.

At the livery stable, Chance called out, "Hellooo!  Mr. Thorson!"

The proprietor came out of an office in the back.  "Hello again, Mr. Munro."

"Mr. Thorson, this is Mr. Brack, the gentleman I told you about."

Brack was suddenly puzzled.

"Wait here," Thorson said.  He went to a nearby stall and brought out an American saddle horse, a beautifully bay colored filly. He handed the reins to Brack.

Brack looked at Chance, his eyebrows raised, his mouth agape, unable to speak.

"She's all yours, Brack," Chance announced with a wink.  "You gave me something, an adventure, that no one on Earth could possibly have given me.  So I thought I'd give you something in return that there might not be an abundance of where you're from.  I do have one stipulation though..."

"And what is that?

"You must name her before we leave Barstow."

"Ah!  Well, I already have a name for her:  Cassiopaeia!  Cassie, for short."

"A stellar horse named for a constellation.  I like it!  Okay, lets get her bedded down for the night, and then let's do the same for ourselves. And to you, Mr. Thorson, I'm much obliged!  Thank you!"

"Yes, Mr. Thorson, thank you,"  Brack echoed.

"Think nothing of it," Thorson replied.

Chance and Brack exchanged goodnight pleasantries with Thorson, then left for Mrs. Swensen's boarding house where they turned in for the night.

Breakfast for chance was half a dozen scrambled eggs and just as many slices of bacon.  He washed it down with some of, "...the best coffee I've had in ages, Mrs. Swensen!"  Brack had a large bowl of oat meal laden with generous amounts of sugar and butter.  He washed his down with tea.

The two then collected their horses, stopped at the general store where Chance exchanged a receipt for two rifles with sheaths, which he affixed to each of their saddle horns.  They then began the six-hour trek back to their camp site.  "I'll race you," Brack goaded.

"Best not.  It'll soon be too hot."

"You're right," Brack agreed.  "Perhaps another time."

"Count on it," chance affirmed.