Only Mean to His Horses and one other of his band had firearms. The rest of the warriors had bows and arrows only. But Mean to His Horses believed that would be enough to overcome the stagecoach, which normally had only one armed guard. Then he would be able to take the guns the stage passengers had.
The six passengers inside the coach were relatively quiet, just enjoying the scenery or lost in their own thoughts. Even though Gary’s arm was in a sling he was holding it, and it was obvious that every bump made it hurt because he winced in pain, though he did not cry out.
Cody looked him, then smiled. “Gary, did you know that Mr. Ingraham writes stories?” Cody asked Gary and Abby.
“What kind of stories?” Gary asked.
“Oh, all kinds of stories,” Cody answered. “Ingraham, why don’t you entertain us with a story? One that the children will like.”
“Well, what kind of stories do you like?” Ingraham asked.
“I like stories about princesses,” Abby said.
“And sailing ships,” Gary added. “Have you ever been on a big sailing ship?”
“Indeed I have,” Ingraham said.
“And have you ever seen a real princess?” Abby asked.
“Yes, I’ve seen a real princess. And it so happens that I can tell a story about a princess and a sailing ship.”
“Oh, good,” Abby said.
“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away,” Ingraham began, and within moments he had both children spellbound as they lost themselves in his story.
The serenity of the interior of the stagecoach was broken by a whizzing sound, followed by a loud “thock.” An arrow had embedded itself in the stagecoach, less than an inch away from the window opening where Falcon was sitting. Looking through the window, Falcon saw several mounted Indians galloping toward the coach. Even as he saw them, he also saw several arrows in flight, streaming in the same direction. At least three more hit the stagecoach with the same “thocking” sound as the first.
“Indians,” Falcon said, though he didn’t have to tell them. By now everyone in the coach was aware of what was happening.
Falcon opened the door of the stage, which had increased its speed as the driver whipped the team into a gallop.
“Where are you going?” Cody asked.
“On top,” Falcon said. “I’ll be in better position to shoot from up there, and it will also draw the Indians’ fire away from the inside of the coach.”
“Good idea, I’ll join you,” Cody said. “Ingraham, you stay with Mrs. Kirby and the children.”
“I’ll do that,” Ingraham shouted back, his pistol already in his hand.
The two men climbed up to the top of the stagecoach, one on either side.
“Good to see you boys comin’ up here!” Hank yelled.
“Bo, keep the team running as fast as you can!” Falcon shouted.
“If we go any faster we’re going to start flying!” Bo replied as he popped the whip over the galloping team.
Falcon and Cody lay on their stomach on the coach, then began shooting. With their first shots, two Indians fell. The shotgun guard got one, and as one of the Indians galloped up alongside the stage, Igraham shot him. Then Falcon got another one.
Mean to His Horses saw five of his warriors fall in the first few minutes of their attack, including the only other Indian who was carrying a rifle. That was half of his band, so he called a halt to the chase.
“Why do we stop?” one of the warriors asked.
“They have many guns, we have one,” Mean to His Horses said. “We will fight another day.”
“It would be better if we had guns.”
“We will get guns,” Mean to His Horses said.
“They’re gone!” Falcon said to the driver. “Hold it up!”
“Whoa!” the driver said, hauling back on the reins as he also put his foot on the brake.
The stagecoach came to a halt, and as it set there, the dust kicked up by the rapid pace caught up with them and began billowing around the coach. The horses twitched and tossed their heads and whickered in discomfort at having had to stop so quickly without cooling off.
“Hank,” the driver said. “Keep an eye open in case them heathens decide to come back. After a run like this, I’d better check out the harness.”
“All right, Bo,” Hank replied. Holding his rifle at the ready, he searched the road behind them.
Falcon and Cody climbed down from the top of the stagecoach. It wasn’t until then that Falcon noticed an arrow sticking out of the top of the coach, less than an inch from where he had been lying.
On the ground, Falcon opened the door to the coach and looked inside. Mrs. Kirby was holding both her children close to her. Ingraham, with a wide grin on his face, was still holding a smoking pistol.
