Chapter Text
Disclaimer: Cimarron Strip is the sole property of Stuart Whitman, Inc.
Christopher Knopf's original characters have been borrowed strictly for fun and not for fortune.
"One Crown For a King's Ransom"
By Ross
Part I.
'Twas the night before the big Army payroll shipment
And all through the town
Francis was searchin'
For our Marshal Crown.
The outlaws had to be thwarted!
There were plans to be made,
If all those Blue Boys
Were to get paid.
And where was MacGregor?
Francis was also looking for him.
Surely the two of them together
Would be able to find Jim.
The searcher was headin' down the boardwalk
Past the Lazy J Saloon
When he heard a familiar brogue
Belting out a Scottish tune.
Through the swinging doors he passed
And tapped the crooner on the back.
"C'mon! The Marshal's missin'.
I need your help to find him, Mac'."
MacGregor polished off his beer
And slammed his mug down on the bar.
"Cimarron is no' that big a town.
The man can no' have gotten far."
But three hours of unsuccessful searching later
The Marshal's Deputies finally gave voice to their growing fear.
"I'm beginning to suspect foul play, Mac'."
"Aye! Jim did no' just disappear."
Foul play, indeed!
The Marshal was currently in one hell of a mess!
Our hapless hero had been lured into a dark, back alley
By the cries of some phony damsel in distress.
The lawman fought off the woman's would be rapists,
And gallantly rescued the little lady in red.
But the ungrateful girl then grabbed a board
And broke it over his turned head.
The Marshal-and his crumpled Stetson-dropped to the ground
The Colt slipped silently from his limp hand.
And, just like that, Tricky Jim was in the clutches
Of a ruthless outlaw band.
TBC