Ghost Town at Sundown (3 page)

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Authors: Mary Pope Osborne

Tags: #Ages 5 and up

BOOK: Ghost Town at Sundown
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“Yikes,” whispered Annie. “A ghost playing the piano!”

Suddenly the keys were still. The air got very cold.

“No. No way,” said Jack. “There's no such thing as a ghost.”

“We saw one in ancient Egypt,” whispered Annie.

“Yeah, but that was ancient Egypt,” said Jack. Even so, his heart raced.

“I'll look it up.” Jack pulled out the Wild West book. He found a picture of a piano. He read aloud:

Player pianos were popular in the Old West. The piano played automatically when someone pumped its floor pedals. Later, with the help of electricity, the piano played all by itself.

“Whew.” Jack closed the book. “I knew there was an answer,” he said. “It must be electric, and somehow it came on.”

“I didn't know they had electricity in the Wild West,” said Annie.

“They didn't,” said Jack.

He looked at Annie. “Oh, man, let's get out of here!” he said.

Jack and Annie backed out of the hotel.

When they got outside, they heard another sound: horse hooves thumping against the hard ground.

A cloud of dust seemed to be moving toward the town. As it got closer, Jack saw three riders. They were herding a small band of horses.

“Hide!” Jack said.

“Where?” said Annie.

Jack looked around wildly. He saw two barrels outside the hotel.

“There!” he said.

Jack and Annie hurried to the empty barrels. Jack climbed inside one and tried to scrunch down. His hat wouldn't fit! He jumped out of the barrel and threw his hat into the hotel.

“Mine, too!” said Annie.

Jack grabbed hers and threw it. Then he scrambled back into the barrel.
Just in time
.

Jack heard the horses thunder into town. He peeked through a crack in the barrel and saw a blur of cowboys and horses go by.


Whoa!
” “
Whoa!
” “
Whoa!
” men shouted.

Jack heard the horses come to a halt. They stamped and snorted. All he could see were shadows through the crack.

Dust covered Jack. He had to sneeze. He pinched his nose.

“The creek bed must have dried up!” a cowboy yelled. “This town's a ghost!”

“Yup, it gives me the shivers,” said another. “Let's camp over the rise.”

Jack
really
had to sneeze now. He pinched his nose tighter. But he couldn't stop the
sneeze. He let out a choked “
Ah-choo!

“What was that?” someone said.

Just then a loud whinny split the air. Jack saw a beautiful horse rear up.

She had no rider or saddle, just a rope around her neck. She was as red as the sunset. She had a wild black mane and a white star above her eyes.

“We can't keep fighting this one, boss!” a cowboy yelled.

“Yup. She wants her colt,” another said. “We shouldn't have left him behind.”

“He was too slow,” a growly voice said. “We'll sell her when we cross the border.”

That's terrible!
thought Jack. He knew Annie must be upset, too. He just hoped that she wouldn't jump out of her barrel.

But the cowboys pulled the red horse away. The ground rang from the pounding of hooves as they galloped off.

Jack and Annie stood up. They watched the riders disappear into the dust.

The pounding faded away. All was quiet again, except for the lazy buzzing of flies.

“They were mean to that horse,” Annie said in a low, angry voice.

“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.

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