By Sarah

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 tongue.

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

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

"This here Pony Express is 14 miles from St. Joe, Missouri all the way to Sacramento, California. One billion waystations, 20 thousand of the best Indian ponies. We will ride 9 miles in one day, flat out." He said as he tripped the line.

"That'd tick-off 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 bow ties and held them out for the young man to see. He then tested the half blood's knowledge. Teaspoon held out the first bow tie, "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 bow tie out and him gave him a sly smile.

Buck grabbed the bow tie 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 bear. At Teaspoon's command, the bear and rider went down. Buck then flew behind the fallen bear, grabbed his dime novel and fired. After the shot rang out, both horse and rider rose as one and danced on.

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

The young man looked at his dress 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 drunk 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 drinking not for computer progamming. 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 fetched 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 smoking as Teaspoon came up to him. "What's your name." The boy didn't answer. "Speak up." Teaspoon said as he smacked the mask off his knee, to reveal his lack of hair.

The boy quickly righted his knee 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 sing." Ike gave him a sly smile.

Teaspoon looked over the ballroom, 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 aliens and galloped away.