Lone Ranger, The (Disney Junior Novel (ebook)) Read online

  Suddenly, a doll landed at John’s feet. Startled, he raised his eyes and saw a young girl sitting across the aisle, eyeing the doll plaintively. Reaching down, John picked up the doll and smoothed her dress. He smiled and then tossed it across the aisle. But no sooner had the doll left his hands than a gust of wind from an open window rushed through the train car. As John and the young girl watched in horror, the doll was pulled right out another window.

  There was a moment of silence and then the girl began to cry. Loudly.

  The cries caused her mother, who had been praying along with the preacher, to stop and turn to John. Noticing his concern, she smiled. “Care to pray with us?” she asked.

  John returned the smile but shook his head. “Much obliged, but this here is my bible,” he said, holding up his most prized possession—a copy of John Locke’s Two Treatises of Government.

  As the woman returned to her prayer, John noticed a large, rough-looking man with a big mustache making his way down the aisle of the train car. John shifted in his seat, nervous, until he noticed the bright silver badge on the man’s belt. He was a Texas Ranger. Smiling, John relaxed back in his seat as the ranger continued past him and made his way out the back of the car.

  As the wind whistled by, the ranger straddled the gap between the two cars. Beneath him, metal flashed as the train rushed over the tracks. He reached out and knocked on the door in front of him. There was the sound of a bolt sliding and then the door swung open.

  Inside, the car was empty save for three people—another ranger and two prisoners. The mustached ranger made his way over and handed his partner a cold drink. Then he turned and kicked the chained leg of one of the prisoners. “Almost hanging time, Butch,” he sneered. The prisoner didn’t move. “Hear what I said, boy?”

  Finally, the man looked up. The WANTED poster had not done Butch Cavendish justice. Not only was his face burned on one side, he had a multitude of long scars from being stabbed and round ones where he’d been shot. Still, he sat whistling as though he had not a care in the world.

  Turning from Cavendish, the ranger eyed the other prisoner. It was Tonto. He sat chained to an eyelet in the floor. In his hand he held a broken pocket watch. As the ranger looked on, the Comanche Indian spun the watch into the air, caught it, and then tried to flick it open almost like a lighter. It didn’t work. Frustrated, he started the move again.

  “It’s broke, Indian,” the ranger said. “Can’t you see that?”

  He looked up, a blank expression on his painted face.

  Frustrated by Cavendish’s cheer and Tonto’s apparent lack of understanding, the lawman sighed and took a seat next to his partner. Pulling out a deck of cards, they began to play. All they had to do was make sure the two chained prisoners stayed chained. How hard could that be?

  As the rangers played cards, Tonto chanted softly to himself, flipping the broken pocket watch over and over again. He was trying to get it to open in one move, like men did with their fancy metal lighters. Finally, he gave up. As he slipped the watch into his pouch, he noticed Cavendish fidgeting. Taking a closer look, Tonto saw that the other prisoner had worked his fingers bloody getting a nail loose from the wooden floorboard. Over Cavendish’s shoulder, the rangers continued their game, unaware.

  Tonto began to chant louder.

  Slowly, Cavendish removed another nail from the floor.

  Tonto chanted even louder.

  Then Cavendish pulled up the floorboard completely.

  Tonto chanted even louder as he watched Cavendish pull a pistol out from under the floorboard.

  Looking up, the outlaw saw Tonto watching him. He raised a finger to his lips. Tonto stopped chanting.

  “Bathroom break, boss?” Cavendish asked the unsuspecting rangers.

  “Nerves, huh?” the mustached ranger said as he stood up and made his way over to the outlaw.

  As the ranger accompanied Cavendish toward a foul-looking latrine in the corner of the train car, Tonto reached into his pouch and pulled out a handful of birdseed. He threw a little bit toward the ranger. Nothing. He threw a little more. Still nothing. Finally, he threw a lot. The lawman looked over and Tonto began gesturing wildly at Cavendish. Then he formed a gun with his pointer finger and thumb. The ranger’s eyes grew wide as understanding dawned. He reached for his gun.

  But it was too late.

  At that moment, Cavendish turned, his own gun in hand. BOOM! With a single blast, he shot the mustached lawman. Then he fired at the other ranger, who fell to the floor with a thud. His gun smoking, Cavendish turned and eyed Tonto. He was still seated, his hand in the shape of a gun. As if he hadn’t done a thing, Tonto reached into his pouch, pulled out more seed, and began to feed his bird.

  John Reid stared out the window at the shadow of the train as it raced over the desert floor. For the past few hours, it had been the same shadow on the same dry, dusty ground. But suddenly, something looked different. The train’s roof seemed to have changed shape. Squinting, John realized it was the shadow of a man. Someone was riding on the roof of the car!

  Curious, John stood up and made his way toward the back of the car. As he pushed the door open, the wind whipped through his hair and knocked him backward. Struggling, he stepped outside and peered up the ladder that led to the train’s roof. Just as he was about to step onto the ladder, he glanced through the small window of the next car. His foot hovered over the ladder as he made out a pair of legs. The legs weren’t moving.

  John grabbed the fire ax secured to the wall of the train car and raised it above his head. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was determined to find out.

  Inside the prison car, Tonto found himself staring down the barrel of Cavendish’s gun. As calmly as possible, the Comanche Indian continued to feed his bird.

  “Fifteen hours I’ve watched you feed that bird,” Cavendish said, his jaw clenched. “Gets on a man’s nerves.”

  “Bird hungry,” Tonto replied. “Birdy num-num.”

  Cavendish cocked his head, pressing the gun harder into Tonto’s forehead. “You really are crazy, aren’t you?”

  Tonto stopped feeding the bird and leveled his gaze at the outlaw. “I do not fear what comes next,” he replied.

  Cocking his gun, Cavendish smiled cruelly. “Nothing comes next,” he said as he began to pull back on the trigger.

  CRASH!

  Behind them, the door of the train car burst open, revealing John Reid. Spinning around, Cavendish aimed the gun at the man’s face. He looked him up and down. “Nice suit,” Cavendish sneered, once again preparing to fire. But before he could shoot, Cavendish heard the sound of another gun cocking—right behind him. Spinning around again, he saw Tonto holding the dead ranger’s pistol, a wild, murderous look in his eye.

  “Time has finally come, Windigo,” Tonto said, the gun steady in his hand.

  Windigo? The word echoed through Cavendish’s mind, reminding him of something from long before. Slowly, the outlaw leaned down and put his gun on the floor. “I know you, Indian?” he asked.

  Tonto held out his pocket watch. “You know me,” he answered. “You know me by the screams of my ancestors in the desert wind, as you will know their cries of joy when I finally wipe you from the face of the earth.” He tensed his finger on the trigger, ready to fire.…

  THUNK!

  In one swift move, John knocked the gun from Tonto’s hand, kicked it away, and then swooped down to pick up Cavendish’s. “That won’t be necessary,” John said. Letting out a cry of rage, Tonto lunged at John. But he was still chained and the heavy metal jolted him backward. “As district attorney,” John went on, slapping a pair of manacles on the outlaw, “I’ll see to it he’s prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”

  “What kind of lawman don’t carry his own gun?” Cavendish asked, straining against the manacles to no avail.

  “Where this train’s heading, there’s no place for men who do,” John replied.

  Cavendish raised an eyebrow as Tonto hung
his head. “Yeah, where’s that?”

  “The future,” John said as he opened the gun and dumped the unused shells on the floor. Satisfied, he started to say more when the side door of the car slid open, revealing five men on horseback. Their guns turned on John. Cavendish’s men had arrived.

  In seconds, they had an unarmed John chained to the floor beside Tonto as Cavendish made his escape. Walking over to the side door, Cavendish paused and turned to look back at the two men. “Lawyer and a crazy Indian,” he said, chuckling. “Bet you two got a lot to talk about.” He looked out the door toward the front of the train. Thanks to his men, the engineer was no longer running the engine. The train was barreling along with no one in control. “Best make it quick,” Cavendish added over his shoulder. Then, with another laugh, he leaped out, landing on his horse.

  As the train raced along, gaining speed, John turned to Tonto. The Comanche looked at him, hatred all over his face. John gulped. Perhaps he should have put a bit more thought into the plan. What was he going to do now?

  Ranger Dan Reid stood on the platform, watching as the train carrying his outlaw appeared on the horizon. He nodded, pleased to see that things were going according to schedule. But then he squinted. The train was going fast. Too fast.

  As if reading his thoughts, the telegraph operator came and stood beside him. “Should be slowing down by now,” the old man observed.

  The men watched as the train came closer and closer, the whir of its wheels growing louder and louder. With a whoosh, the train sped by the platform, leaving only a billow of dust and the smell of coal behind.

  Moments later, the rangers were on their horses and racing after the runaway train. But how were they ever going to catch up with the iron beast? And if they couldn’t, what was going to happen to all the passengers?

  Inside the train car, John and Tonto sat in uncomfortable silence. Trying to think of something to say, John eyed the bird atop Tonto’s head. “You know,” he began, “I did a little bird-watching myself growing up. You’ve done a wonderful job there with, uh…” His voice trailed off as Tonto raised his eyes and glared at him. “Anyway…I’m sure we’ll be in the station any minute.”

  As if on cue, the platform flashed by.

  Now completely terrified, John began to pull at his chains, trying to loosen them. “Reinforced Bethlehem steel,” he muttered to himself. “Any attempt at escape is futile.”

  While John panicked, Tonto calmly reached out his foot and hooked his toes around the ax John had dropped. He pulled the tool toward him until it was close enough to grab. Then, using the blade, he pried up the floorboard that his chain was attached to. With a heavy stamp of his foot, the board came loose. Tonto was free.

  Looking up, John saw the now free Tonto and stopped struggling. “For coming to the aid of a federal prosecutor, I’ll be sure to put in a good word with the judge,” he said, trying to bargain.

  Tonto said nothing. Instead, he dropped the ax and began to walk away. Slowly, the chain slid through the eyelet and then—SNAP—it caught! Looking back, Tonto narrowed his eyes. While he had successfully unhooked himself from the floor, he was, annoyingly, still attached to John.

  For a moment, the two men just looked at each other. While neither one of them liked the idea, it was clear they weren’t going anywhere alone. And they definitely could not stay put. Outside, the landscape was going by faster and faster as the train continued to pick up speed.

  John racked his brain, trying to come up with a plan. But law school had not prepared him for this kind of situation. An indecisive jury? He could sway them. A stubborn judge? He could debate him. But a train with no engineer, full of innocent passengers? That was clearly beyond his scope.

  Before he could do anything, Tonto tugged on the chain, yanking John to his feet. He began dragging him toward the door. Moments later, they were standing on top of the speeding train. In the distance, John could make out the end of the line. He gulped. What now?

  “We jump,” Tonto said, as if reading his thoughts.

  The Comanche took a step forward, but John yanked him back. “The passengers,” he said.

  “They jump,” Tonto replied with a shrug.

  “There are children on board!” John protested. “Have you no decency?”

  Suddenly, Tonto’s face filled with fury and his eyes narrowed. “Windigo getting away!” he shouted. With a fierce tug, he pulled John closer to the edge. John pulled back. Tonto dug in his heels and heaved. Soon the two men were in the midst of a dangerous game of tug-of-war. With each pull, they moved closer and closer to the train’s edge.

  Just when it looked like they were both going to plummet to the ground, they heard a noise behind them. Turning, they saw Jesus, one of Cavendish’s men, clambering onto the roof of the train car. Without saying a word, John and Tonto began to run right at the outlaw, the chain pulled taut between them. When they reached Jesus, the chain acted like a clothesline, hitting the outlaw right in the middle of his chest and knocking him off his feet.

  John raised his hands in victory. But at that very moment, they passed under a big hook set up to take mail deliveries. John’s chain caught on the hook, and with a cry, he went flying.

  Tonto smiled, happy to have his ball and chain gone, literally. And then his own chain went taut and he found himself flying through the air after John. As he whipped over the car’s roof, he snagged Jesus’s legs and threw him through a window into the passenger car before landing with a thud several cars back. Shakily, Tonto got to his feet. John was already standing, his eyes trained on another one of Cavendish’s men, Frank. The outlaw was holding a suitcase overflowing with what looked like women’s clothes.

  “Why don’t you put that down and settle this like men?” John said, raising his fists. “Though I warn you, I boxed in law school.”

  THWACK!

  Frank popped John in the nose with the butt of his gun.

  “OW!” John cried.

  As John cradled his face, he heard a whir. Looking up, he watched with wide eyes as a lariat flew through the air and snapped around Frank’s leg. A moment later, the outlaw was yanked off the train. Wheeling around, John smiled.

  Racing alongside the train was Dan Reid. As John watched, Dan dropped the lariat, and Frank, in the dust and then slowly stood up on the saddle of his galloping horse. Holding out his arms for balance, he wavered for only a moment before leaping onto the speeding train.

  “Great warrior,” Tonto said, watching.

  “Yeah, that’s my brother,” John said, rubbing his nose as Dan clambered up the side of the train and began walking toward them.

  “Nice suit,” Dan said without even acknowledging the Comanche chained to his brother’s side.

  Ignoring the rub, John began to follow him. “We have to stop the train,” he said.

  “No time,” Dan responded.

  John raised an eyebrow. That didn’t sound like his bigger-than-life hero ranger brother. He had to have a plan. “I’m not leaving the passengers,” John insisted.

  “So help me unhook the cars,” Dan replied simply.

  Sooner than John would have liked, he found himself back outside the prison car. The only car in front of them was the engine. They needed to unhook the link-and-pin coupler that attached the engine to the passenger cars behind. But there was a problem. The link and pin wouldn’t budge. They were jammed together, and no matter how hard Dan and John pulled at it, they couldn’t get the pin free.

  Tonto, who had been mostly silent as the two brothers worried at the pin, suddenly held the chain out to John. “Hold this,” he said. Then, as John watched in horror, Tonto let himself fall backward under the train.

  As John struggled to keep the chain taut and keep Tonto from hitting the ground, Dan continued to pull at the coupler holding the pin down. With a groan, he lifted it just enough for the pin to come clear. Seeing his chance, Tonto kicked out with his foot, knocking the pin completely free.

  There was a jolt and then
a loud groan as the engine began to ease away from the passenger cars. Quickly, John pulled Tonto to safety.

  “John!”

  Looking up at the sound of his brother’s cry, John let out his own groan. Somehow, he and Tonto had ended up on the engine side of the platform. Now, as he watched in horror, they moved farther and farther from the safety of the passenger cars.

  And up ahead, the track was at an end.…

  With an unholy scream, the engine went off the end of the track. As it flew through the air, it hit a stack of wooden ties, causing them to splinter and shatter like matchsticks. The engine hovered for a moment in midair before slamming into the ground, its nose pushing through the dirt.

  The force of the impact sent John and Tonto flying through the air, end over end, as forty tons of spinning steel groaned and shrieked behind them. Suddenly, a sharp rod was ripped from the engine’s side. It shot straight at the pair, slicing their chain in half. They flew apart, and a moment later, the train finally came to a stop.

  As the dust cleared, Tonto slowly got to his feet. Looking down, he saw the broken chain and smiled. That hadn’t been so bad. He brushed himself off and began to walk away.

  “Hold it right there,” John said. Tonto turned around. John stood right behind him, his hands still chained, but a determined look on his face. “I’m afraid I have to take you in.”

  Tonto stared at him for a moment. Then he resumed walking.

  “Did you hear what I just said?” John asked, grabbing Tonto.

  In one swift, effortless move, Tonto flipped him over his shoulder and onto the ground. But John wasn’t giving up. He reached out and wrapped his arms around the Comanche’s leg. Shrugging, Tonto began dragging him through the dirt. He wasn’t about to give up either.

  “By the authority granted me,” John said, coughing as dirt filled his mouth, “by the state of Texas, I’m arresting you.”