Ghost Town at Sundown - Mary Pope Osborne [4]
“I know. But there was nothing we could do,” said Jack. His boots were killing him. He climbed out of his barrel.
“Man, I have to get these off,” he said.
Jack sat down on the porch of the hotel. He grabbed the foot of one boot and pulled.
“Jack,” said Annie, “I think there is something we can do.”
“What?” Jack looked up.
A small horse was running down the road. He was as red as the wild mother horse. He had the same black mane and white star above his eyes.
A rope was around his neck. He looked very lost.
“It’s the colt!” said Annie. “He’s looking for his mother!”
She ran toward the wild-eyed little horse.
“Wait!” called Jack. “Oh, brother.” He pulled the book out of his pack.
He found a chapter titled “Horses of the Wild West.” He started reading.
At the end of the 1800s, over a million wild horses, called mustangs, wandered the West. These tough, fast horses were descendants of runaway Spanish horses. Mustang herders captured them and sold them to ranchers. Breaking a wild mustang took great skill.
Jack turned the page. There was a picture of a herd of horses. Two of them even looked like the beautiful mare and her colt.
“Hey, Annie,” Jack called. “You should see this picture.”
Annie didn’t answer.
Jack looked up.
Annie was trying to get close to the young mustang, but he kept darting away.
“Watch it! He’s wild!” said Jack.
Annie was speaking softly to the colt.
She slowly reached out and grabbed the end of his rope. Still talking to him, she led him to a broad wooden post.
“Stop! Don’t do anything!” said Jack.
He flipped the pages of his book. He found a section called “How to Treat a Horse.”
The basic rules on how to treat a horse are simple: a soft hand, a firm voice, a sunny attitude, praise, and reward.
“I’ve got the rules!” shouted Jack. “Don’t do anything before I write them down!”
Jack pulled out his notebook and pencil. He wrote:
“Okay, listen—” Jack looked up.
But Annie was already sitting on the colt’s back!
Jack froze. He held his breath.
The mustang whinnied and pawed the ground. He snorted and tossed his head.
Annie kept patting his neck and talking softly.
Finally the young horse grew still.
Annie smiled at Jack. “I named him Sunset,” she said.
Jack let out his breath.
“Let’s go,” said Annie. “We have to take him to his mom.”
“Are you nuts?” said Jack. “We have to solve our riddle. It’ll be dark soon. And those guys were real bad guys, I could tell.”
“We don’t have any choice,” said Annie.
“Oh, brother.” Jack knew she wouldn’t change her mind. “Let’s see what the book says.” He read more about mustangs:
Wild mustangs live together in families. The bond between a mare and her young is very strong. His sounds of distress or hunger will always bring her to him. A mustang cannot bear to wander alone.
Jack groaned. He looked at Sunset. The young mustang did have a sad look in his eyes.
“Okay, we’ll make a plan,” he said. “But first I have to get out of these boots.”
Jack grabbed one of his boots and pulled.
“Hurry!” said Annie.
“I can’t even think in these things!” said Jack.
He huffed and puffed and pulled. Then a deep voice stopped him cold: “Hands up—or I’ll shoot!”
Jack let go of his boot. He raised his hands in the air. So did Annie.
A cowboy rode out of an alley. His face was bony and tanned. He was riding a gray horse and pointing a six-shooter.
“I reckon you’re the smallest horse thieves I’ve ever come across,” he said.
“We’re not horse thieves!” said Annie.
“Well then, what are you doing with my horse here?” he said.
“Some bad guys came through town with his mother,” said Annie. “They left him behind because he was too slow.”
“Yup, must be the rustlers that stole my last five mustangs,” the cowboy said.
“Who are you?” said Jack.
“I’m a mustang herder,” the cowboy said.
“They rode through town. Then Sunset showed up all alone,” said Annie. “We’re taking him to his mother.”
“Sunset?” the cowboy said.
“Yup,” Annie smiled. “I named him.”
The cowboy put away his six-shooter. “Well, you’re pretty brave to try and rescue