LLM Part 1 Chapter 10

10.

Lance looked at the man standing in front of him. The man was trying to dress like a frontier man but his uneasy stand spoke of his other comfortable dressing. He was a fair height with the thick side burns and had slight hump on the back making him slouch forward. His eyes glasses deflated his frontier look but his firm hands on the gun belt showed otherwise.

“I am surprised the Pinkerton sent their best from the east to find a vigilante.” Lance shuffled his feet on the grass. “What makes you think I was who you were looking for?”

“Mr. Bernard, the Pinkerton had a lot of friends. Our friends are more than the Secret Service and the Texas Rangers. Some of these had met the one named Lone Ranger before. They were gracious for the works of the Lone Ranger and truthfully they want to know more.” The Pinkerton agent replied. “When the Lone Ranger went missing, they searched with more depth. And more to it, the Lone Ranger was easy to locate. Who else ride with a native American as a riding partner?”

‘Thank you, Mr. Smith but there are many of us who are friendly with the natives since they last met at Little Bighorn. Black Clouds is my scout.” Lance tried to evade the confirmation to the vigilante identity.

“Black Clouds have a unique background.” Mr, Smith smiled at the Native American. “You were raised by the Missionaries which was where you learned your reading and writing. You left soon after to rejoin your grandfather the Shaman. You returned to your ancestry skills and became an adept one too but your path was soon to change. Your grandfather death by the demons enraged and struck the spark for you to find revenge for the death.”

“The parts that evade us were why you became the Tonto when the first one was unrelated to you.” Mr. Smith looked with amusement to know more.

“Tonto was one of ours in the clan. He was a legend to us. When he died, the elders have asked me to be him.” Mr. Smith cut in to enquire on the cause of death.

“Tonto rode in one day with some serious wounds. They were not of the white man’s bullets. The Shaman came and performed the rites but the warrior was dying. The Shaman kept his soul to give to the worthy warrior.” It was then Tonto raised the tomahawk. “This was once his and now mine.”

“I don’t believe all of you.” Lance hit back. He then looked at Tonto.  “You were my friend and ….partner. I …”

“Believe it, Kemo-Sabe. I am with the Pinkerton.” Tonto exclaimed back. “I am a Shaman without a clan. And the silvers you passed to me have little value to my trader. And hunting raccoons and hedgehogs were a chore when they ignored the traps.”

“Okay, I was raised by a missionary and hunting was not in the upbringing.” Tonto sighed. “They did offer me a good deal to fight the demon.”

The demon was the reason Lance met Tonto. He recalled then the pursuit of the blood drinker. It was not his first but his fourth since he took up the task to find his brother’s killer. All he had then was they were blood drinkers and he found one then. It was a long ride across the desert with the water canteen drier. He trailed the blood drinker after a chase of two days. He cornered the blood drinker at the canyon. The blood drinker had staggered into the hut with the corral there. There was a well there by the hut. It was also past the hour of dusk then and the hut chimney was devoid of smoke. Lance stepped forth to the hut.

“Come on out, cowboy. I know you are in there.” Lance had his hand rubbed at his dry lips. He glanced over to the well but he was not losing sight of his prey. The later had done that twice over the hunting. The man stepped out in a half crouch. The cowboy had not changed the trail outfit but his lips were smeared with blood. He then tossed out the young pup and then pulled up with the fangs bared.

“That must be refreshing. I have not my drink yet.” Lance smiled at the other. The blood drinker had then braced himself for the gun draw position.

“You can’t kill me with your gun but I could with mine.” The blood drinker gloated on the invulnerability of the blood drinker to the steel bullets. Lance drew first and shot the blood drinker twice in the chest. The other screamed out in pain when the silver bullets pierced the flesh and fell down to the knees. It was then Lance saw the second figure in the hut. 

The second figure fired the rifle at Lance.

Lance felt the bullet creased his left forearm before he jumped. At his fallen position, Lance leveled his right hand gun at the shooter but the later was also down with the tomahawk in the face. Lance rolled back to build a distance away and then sat up. The blood drinker he shot at had aimed his gun drawn from the holster. Lance took his chance and shot the blood drinker in the head. He then turned back and saw the approaching Native American. He leveled the gun at the later but the native had raised both hands.

“My name is Tonto. I am not your prey.”

That was how they met.

“Kemo-Sabe, I did not want to tell you for I was unsure how to tell you.” Tonto had taken the Lone Ranger to the side under the stars while the Pinkerton and his associates shared the camp fire. The two of them had strolled and work out their differences.

“Tonto, how could you not tell me? We rode together for now …”

“A year now. I could read the stars and we are into spring again.” Tonto smiled. “I joined the Pinkerton just two months back after the Tennessee capture. We have been hunting for so long and all we had was the hunters. We never got the leaders.”

“How many have we killed? Ten or fifteen? It was the Pinkerton who gave me what you called the clue. I laid it out for you so that you figure it out.” Tonto looked at Lance. “It was that which got us closer.”

“No, you were wrong. The Association was a good clue but I found out more. I know now who is behind the Association. And this time I will get him.” Lance glared back at the other. “We could …”

“No, Kemo-Sabe. You are wrong. This is the work of the Lord. We were brought together to hunt the demon. When we had strayed, the Lord gave us a new direction. And with that you found the Association.” Tonto exclaimed out. “The Lord will guide us. Read the lines in 1 Chronicles 29:11.”

Lance glared at the one he had harmlessly chosen as his partner. He wondered what made him do it and how they survived so long. He did not want to be the obliging one nor the vengeful one but he became the later. The Lone Ranger rode out a year ago after his last return from the darker continent. He had approached Father Dennis and learned how to shoot and ride like Lambert. It took some time for him to improve and soon he was the new Lone Ranger, He hunted alone and soon met Tonto. Since then they have not spoken of the last Lone Ranger. They were the new one.

Later that evening, at the town, the town folks were clearing their supper and the ones not doing it was heading to the saloon. The town saloon was not exactly bustling with drinkers at that early hours but it have half its tables seated by the eight patrons. The seated were five local folks having an evening drink except for one where three cowboys were wearing their hat and dealing the cards. There was no one at the bar counter except the bar tender cleaning the glasses. The saloon looked closely the same in all the towns with the large mirror either at the back of the counter or the overhanging chandelier. There was also the longhorn displayed there to make the cowboys feel at home. Lance stepped in with Mr. Smith at his heels. Lance was dressed in his riding suit but his face was added on the moustache and the long side burns. The duo approached the far table at the front window. Lance changed directions and approached the counter. He grabbed two glasses and the bottle. He walked back and knocked into one of the cowboys. The accidental move knocked the hat off the cowboy.

“Yeow!” The cowboy screeched out in pain with his hands held out to cover his eyes. The other two cowboys reached for their guns but stopped in mid draw. Lance looked to the door and saw the new arrival.

It was Hawkins.