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If that wagon will roll, we’re gonna hitch a team to it and haul all your asses to Fort Smith to stand in front of Judge Parker,” Eli said as he nudged Coon Doolin with his toe.“I’m bleeding out my neck, I can’t hitch a team to a wagon,” he whined.“Then you can ride in back when I take your hair and cut your throat the rest of the way through,” Eli said, walking toward the corral.“Wait a minute, Marshal,” Coon Doolin yelled as he struggled to roll over, pulling his filthy buckskins up over his dirty ass.They got the horses hitched to the wagon after Coon told Eli where the harnesses were. Eli told him to climb up on the wagon and back it up to the porch so they could load the fat woman.Eli went through the stinking trading post, gathering up guns and ammunition, then checking the boxes and sacks behind the bar and in the stinking back room. He had six Winchesters with six boxes of .44-40 and twelve boxes of .45 caliber cartridges. He found the old man’s small stash of money and gold. Wednesday Cody had lunch with the group. I had to admit he was a nice guy. He told some great stories about growing up in Phoenix. But there was just something about the guy. Tami said it was jealousy; I don't like sharing. But I thought it was more than that. Maybe I hoped it was more than that.Then this afternoon we had the pep rally."Settle!" Mr. Reed said sharply. "Or we can go back to class."That got everybody's attention.When the bleachers had quieted, "Your Rebel cheerleaders!" Mr. Reed yelled and the lights went out. From the speakers came a cackling laugh, then "Wipe out!" followed by the familiar drumline. I wondered if my Colorado Cousin was feeling a twinge.The doors on either end of the gym opened and in came eight apparitions.The cheerleaders had applied some kind of glow-in-the-dark face paint and carried glow wands. The dance they'd choreographed to the music was very strange with just their faces and the glow wands visible."Your cheerleaders!" Mr. Reed yelled again.
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