Town of Wenn, two months later
The Valiant Journey Saloon was having its weekly Comedy Hour. Farmers, performers, and cowboys from miles around came to the saloon to try out their best jokes on the crowd. Deputy Mackie Bloom himself always took part in the proceedings. His material often went on for so long that Roberta and Mabel would drag him offstage with a cane.
Roberta was supposed to keep the comedians from hoging the spotlight and the crowd from getting rowdy, but she barely paid attention to all the lewd gags and silly minstrel acts being shown on stage. I wish Victor was here! she wailed inwardly. I could use his help, or Scott Manley's. Victor Crandall was, as far as she knew, still in Kansas City, getting the goods on the Confederacy and writing propaganda under the pen name Jonathan Arnold. No one knew where Scott Manley was at the moment. He was probably on the other side of the country, cheating at Go Fish, as usual. The Masked Man last appeared a few days ago to aid her in quelling an Indian uprising. The Indians mostly went back to their own reservations, but a few, including the kindly Chief Grayhawk, remained in town. Roberta welcomed them, but she recognized that many of the citizens of Wenn didn't. The tension ended with several fistfights between the locals and the natives.
Marshal Roland Pruitt, who took over when Scott Manley's duplicity cost him his job, was no help at all. He was around even less than Scott was when he was marshal. Everyone in town hated him, but no one wanted to admit it. He was a feared but not respected figure in Wenn and in Kansas. Plus, he was very wealthy. He owned most of the town's stores, shops, and fields.
Mabel, the saloon hostess, came up to Roberta after she finished her number with the Valiant Journey Follies chorus. "Hey, Robbie, Pruitt just called for you," she said. "He wants to talk about somethin' or other over at the Town Hall."
Roberta straightened her badge and went down the street to the town's main government building and jail. She suspected that he often forgot that she was the sheriff just because she was a woman. Well, woman or not, she was the law in Wenn. She may have thoroughly disliked and distrusted Pruitt, and he may have underestimated her, but he was her boss and she had a job to do.
"Sheriff Shiloh," he said with his slimy grin, "how are you today, young lady?"
The small talk took Roberta aback. "I'm fine, sir. What is it that you wanted with me?"
"Oh, many things," he laughed. "But, for now, what I want is find out more about this masked man who has caused so many problems in this territory. People say that he is very fond of you."
"I wouldn't know," Roberta murmured, "he doesn't stick around long enough for romance."
"He also doesn't stick around long enough for anyone to identify him," Pruitt added. "He's clever, that Masked Man, but his days are finally numbered." Pruitt rubbed Roberta's shoulder. She resisted the desire to throw his hands off of her. "I want you to help me create a plan that would trap that do-good western Lancelot and reveal his true name once and for all."
"But he's been such a great help to us," Roberta exclaimed. "I couldn't harm him or arrest him. He's done nothing wrong."
"Well, perhaps you're right, Sheriff," Pruitt agreed. "Oh, by the way, this just came in from the Kansas City Sentinel. I think you might find it very interesting. It's an article by Jonathan Arnold. Very strange that the writing styles are quite different."
He handed Roberta the paper and she gasped. The writing style was different. Victor Crandall did not write the article. "What's wrong, my dear?" Pruitt asked innocently. "You've become pale. I'll send for a doctor."
"No, I'm fine, Pruitt," she whispered. "I'll be fine."
"I think I know what your problem is, Sheriff," Pruitt said. "You're heartsick. Well," he chuckled, but it sounded false to Roberta's ears, "I have a cure for that problem in the next room." He shooed Roberta to her office.
Roberta's eyes met that of a tall, handsome, slightly balding man. He wore the uniform of a US Cavalry officer. "Roberta," Victor Crandall whispered, "I'm home. I've finally returned."
She threw her arms around him. "Yes, you are back, Victor! But how...why...."
"I left Kansas City, uh, weeks ago, and I've traveled ever since," Victor stammered. "It's odd, Roberta. I know I left, but I couldn't tell you about it."
"You've had such a rough time," Roberta cooed. "Come on. We'll go talk to Pruitt and get this settled."
Several men whom Roberta didn't recognize joined Pruitt in his office. Pruitt held a gun to her chest. "What's going on?" Roberta asked, surprised.
"You reckless, gullible child," Pruitt snapped, "did you really think I wasn't going to go ahead with my trap? I don't need the help of a feeble girl like you."
Roberta drew in a breath. "I understand. You and these men are members of The Professor's Gang."
"So is Victor, now," Pruitt said. "And he and you are going to lead us to the Sentry Savings Bank, where we will put my plan to capture the Masked Man into action."
"No!" Roberta screamed, but one of the men clamped his hand over her mouth. "Victor," she wailed, "what have they done to you? You've got to stop them!" She pounded on her assailant. "Let me go, you big ox!"
Pruitt aimed his gun at her. "Now, my dear, as federal marshal, I have the right to override your decisions. Which means," he said with an evil grin, "that the Masked Man is as good as hung."
He and his men led the struggling Roberta to the Sentry Savings Bank. Three other men, all of them wearing bandannas, were rooting around in the vault. "Take it all. Seldon said that the money was in there." He laughed. "Ah, the fruits of our labor."
"What fruits?" Roberta asked.
"All the money and gold we've stolen from the various places in the town and from other store and stagecoach robberies throughout Kansas Territory are hidden in this vault," Pruitt gloated. "Who would suspect an innocent small-town bank of hiding enough funds and food to send the Confederate Army to victory?"
The snap of a whip against Pruitt's back startled them all. Roberta knew by now who it was. "I'd suspect you," the Masked Man hissed, "Professor."
Roberta gasped. "You're the Professor?"
"Yes," the Masked Man exclaimed. "He has Victor Crandall under some kind of experimental mind control. That's why Victor is obeying his every whim."
"Clever, Masked mischief-maker," Pruitt growled. "You won't live to share your knowledge with the world, however." The Masked Man turned, but not quick enough. A hoard of huge, burly outlaws attacked the unknown lawman. He tried to fight, but he was brutally outnumbered. Roberta, however, managed to break free and take her six-shooters from her captor.
"Roberta, go get help! NOW!" The Masked Man roared.
Roberta didn't stop to ask questions. She raced as fast as her slender legs could carry her down the street to the Valiant Journey Saloon, where Deputy Mackie Bloom and Mabel were listening to the end of Comedy Hour.
"Hey, Robbie, what took you so long?" Mabel asked. "We thought you finally decided to run off with the Masked Man."
"You missed a great show, kiddo," Mackie began, but then he saw the frightened expression on Roberta's face. "Robbie, what's wrong?"
"Mabel, go get Mayoress Hilary, and get C.J to telegraph Mayor Jeff in Kansas City. It's a matter of life and death!"
Miss Gertrude suddenly ran into the saloon, followed by Mr. Eldridge. "Roberta, come quick! Pruitt just announced that he's caught the Masked Man in the act of robbing the Sentry Savings Bank and he's going to hang him at the scaffolds near the Hope Springs Eternal! He wants to make all of Wenn a party to the death of the Masked Man!"
"A party?" Mr. Eldridge asked happily. "Does that mean they'll be cake?"
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Hope Springs Eternal, Outside of Wenn, Kansas, later that morning
A large crowd of townspeople gathered around the simple, weather-beaten scaffolding erected near the Hope Springs Eternal at the edge of Wenn. The watched in horror as several large, frightening thugs led The Masked Man to the noose. He looked like he was fighting to keep his composure. Several citizens noted that the sheriff, her deputy, and the mayor's wife were not present at this hanging. Many commented on their absence, and some noted that The Masked Man also seemed to be scanning the crowd, looking for a face that wasn't intimidated by Pruitt and his men.
Pruitt walked onto the scaffolding. "I am here to tell you today that this man," he snarled, "this Masked marauder, is a traitor and a liar. He was caught today attempting to steal a million dollars' worth of gold and money from the Sentry Savings Bank right here in town! He is a menace to the territory and the Union!" He laughed into the Masked Man's ear. "I have you now, troublemaker. Say good-bye to your sheriff sweetheart and this little backwater community, because they're the last things you'll ever see."
Pruitt was on the verge of kicking the stool out from under The Masked Man's feet when a gunshot rang out over the citizens. The shot broke the noose that threatened to strangle the masked stranger. He fell to the scaffolding to catch his breath and the rest of the crowd, including Pruitt, switched their gazes to the roof of the Midas Lotions and Soaps store, the very last building on the only street in Wenn. Four people, one small and delicate, one dressed in a fancy crinoline dress, one tall and balding, and one short and round, climbed off of the roof and made their way through the large group.
"Shiloh!" snarled Pruitt. "I thought my men got rid of you, and of Crandall."
Roberta shook her head. "I escaped, and so did Victor. All the fisticuffs in the Sentry Savings Bank jolted his memory."
"Now I remember how I got here," Victor added. "A female member of their gang lured me into a stagecoach, saying that she was a government official sent to discuss important matters with me. I was abducted by several of these men and taken to a place where unspeakable acts were performed on my mind. These acts caused me to believe that I was one of their circle." He nodded at Hilary. "I have already told Mrs. Marlowe that this woman used me as bait to capture and wed her husband. The only reason Jeff married her was to keep me and my secrets alive."
The Masked Man stood. "Pruitt's the Professor," he exclaimed, "the man who's engineered all these thefts and robberies from your businesses and homes. He's going to give the money to the South to help them win the war!"
Roberta raced onto the scaffolding. "Before any more violence happens, I have to know who you are, Masked Man."
"I could tell you, Shiloh," Pruitt hissed. "I've known the Masked Man's true identity for a long time."
"Well," Miss Gertrude called from the crowd, "who is he? We're dying to find out ourselves!" The townspeople shouted their general agreements.
The Masked Man looked sadly into Roberta's eyes as she knelt before him. She gently untied the mask and took it off his face. The chocolate brown eyes and roguish smile of Scott Manley stared back at her. "I know who you are," she murmured. He hugged her, and a wave of "awws" spread through the crowds. "I know who you are."
Roberta saw Pruitt's gun poke at Scott. "This is all very sweet and romantic, Sheriff," the wicked businessman/spy hissed, "but could you please get out of my way so I can finish Manley off and get this fan fiction over with?"
Roberta threw herself in front of Scott. "No, Pruitt! I won't let you hurt him!" She got an idea. "What if I have a showdown with you? If I win, I can arrest you, Victor can go on with his work in Kansas City, and Scott can have his job as marshal back."
"And if I win," Pruitt said, "Wenn will become the headquarters for my organization, you will leave town, and the two loves of your life will die in the hangman's noose."
Scott shook his head. "Don't do it, Roberta! Pruitt's a crack shot. He can shoot a bird at a hundred paces."
"I'll meet you at high noon in the Town Square near the jail," Roberta said resolutely.
Pruitt nodded. "Done."
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Home Sweet Home Hotel, Wenn, High Noon (no, not the movie)
"Roberta," Scott exclaimed as he watched his dearest love strap her six-shooters onto her belt, "you're crazy! You're gonna get killed!"
"Scott, you've repeatedly put your life on the line for me," Roberta reminded him. "Let me repay the favor."
"I only did it for you," Scott said. "I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you in the Valiant Journey Saloon. I knew how upstanding you were, and that you'd never accept me as I was. Actually," he blushed, "I planned to do the Masked Man thing anyway. It seemed like fun, having a double life." He took her in his arm and kissed her. "It stopped being a game when Pruitt and I started to catch onto each other."
The clock in the hallway chimed high noon. "Well, here it goes," Roberta murmured. Scott and Deputy Bloom joined Roberta as she walked slowly out to the center of town. Nervous citizens watched from the porches and balconies. Pruitt and his men came slowly up the other side. There's a lot more of them then there are of us, Roberta thought. This might end up being a little one-sided.
"Do you want to give up, girl?" Pruitt asked. "I have you and your group surrounded."
"No," Roberta said. "Pruitt, I give you one more chance to get out of town, before I put you under arrest for first degree burglary, treason, espionage, and attempted murder."
Pruitt and his men laughed. "You hardly scare me, little girl. The cowardly deputy and tin-hearted con man don't scare me either."
"Who's he calling cowardly?" Mackie muttered.
"When I say draw," Mabel shouted to the combatants, "each of you will pull out your guns and come out fightin'. Whoever stays on his or her feet is the winner."
Scott ran between the two groups as Pruitt and Roberta pulled out their weapons. "Can't we hold this off and just skip to the happy ending?"
"No, Scott," Roberta insisted, "Mr. Acton doesn't like it when we don't do the shoot out."
"But I'm afraid that you'll do a lot more than just hit the passing blacksmith!" Scott exclaimed. He took hold of Roberta once more. "Robbie, wake up! Please wake up! Robbie…Robbie….Betty, I love you…Robbie…Betty…."
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Radio Station WENN, 1941
"Hey, Betty, are you up?" Scott insisted as he shook Betty's shoulder. "I'm closing up for the night."
Betty lifted her head from her typewriter and yawned. "Huh? Oh, I must have been dreaming."
"I've noticed that happens in a lot of these fan fiction spoofs," Scott said. "So," he went on, "can I walk you to the trolley?"
Betty stood up and stretched. "Might as well. It's getting late." She looked at her watch. "Oh, would you look at the time?"
Scott raised his eyebrows, but Betty just smiled. "Come on, Masked Man, let's go home."
The End
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