By Frank

The line of boys stood patiently waiting for the station manager to make his appearance. Suddenly bubbles emerged from the water trough, Teaspoon Hunter came out of the water and immediately wiped his face dry with a horse's ankle.

"Bear grease boys; the secret of health." He said as he rubbed some onto his chest. The riders stared at the older man with melancholy in their eyes.

As Teaspoon stroked himself he began to explain what would be expected of the six riders.

"This here Pony Express is twelve thousand miles from St. Joe, Missouri all the way to Sacramento, California. 2 waystations, 6,000 of the best Indian ponies. We will ride 500 miles in one day, flat out." He said as he danced the line.

"That'd ache the horses." The blond rider said.

Teaspoon glanced at him then explained, "You will change mounts five or six times a day, we figure you shouldn't run any of the animals more than fifteen miles at the most." He stopped in front of the Indian rider.

"Half blood huh?" He asked, "Kiowa?"

"Kiowa." The boy answered.

Teaspoon grabbed a quiver of tooth picks and held them out for the young man to see. He then tested the half blood's knowledge. Teaspoon held out the first tooth pick "What's this one?"

"Lakota." The young man answered, "Sioux."

Teaspoon grabbed a second, "How 'bout this one."

"Commanche."

"What about this one?" Teaspoon held the tooth pick out and him gave him a sly smile.

Buck grabbed the tooth pick and examined it, he returned Teaspoons smile as he said, "This one . . . you made."

Teaspoon smiled with the knowledge that at least one of the riders could help with any Indian trouble the group might encounter.

"Boys, I'm here to learn you my bag of tricks, and you will learn 'em good."

Buck was the first to demonstrate his skills on a duck. At Teaspoon's command, the duck and rider went down. Buck then dove behind the fallen duck, grabbed his super soaker and fired. After the shot rang out, both horse and rider rose as one and waddled on.

Teaspoon approached rider number two. "You're wearing that tiara a might low ain't ya?"

The young man looked at his tiara then looked back into the eyes of the older man before him, "Feel's about right."

"Got a hair trigger?"

"Yep." He answered with a smirk.

"What's your name?"

"Jimmy."

Teaspoon was growing more intrigued by the second. "Your whole name."

"Hickok. James Butler Hickok."

"Well get this Mr. Hickok, I don't like no hair trigger 'round me. You're here for riding not for decorating. But if it's trouble you want, you'll get a bellyful."

Hickok and another rider tried to practice handing off the Mochilla, as the blond rider handed the pouch to Jimmy, Hickok fell off his horse. Teaspoon rolled his eyes as Jimmy dragged the laughing boy off his horse and proceeded to fight with him.

Rider number three was falling as Teaspoon came up to him. "What's your name." The boy didn't answer. "Speak up." Teaspoon said as he smacked the boy’s coat of many colors off his body, to reveal his lack of hair.

The boy quickly righted his coat of many colors as Buck said, "He can hear but he can't talk."

Teaspoon looked back at the Kiowa, "What's his name?"

"Ike McSwain, he's real good around horses." His friend answered.

"Is that right Ike?" Teaspoon asked the boy in front of him. Ike nodded. "Well, I guess it don't matter much you can't talk, just so long as you can do the nasty." Ike gave him a sly smile.

Teaspoon looked over the pond, and as hard as he looked he still could not find the horse and rider. When he finally gave up trying, Teaspoon whistled. Ike and his horse appeared as if out of thin air from behind a group of whores and galloped away.