Well, here's the setup.  The kids have been shipped off to Grandpa Doug Wildey's Ranch, and... oh, well, you can read for yourself.

Please note that the biographical information on Calamity Jane is based on the material published by Warner Bros. for "The Legend of Calamity Jane" T.V. show, and should not be considered historically accurate.

Disclaimer: JQ characters and associated details are property of HB, Calamity Jane characters and associated details are property of WB, and are used for non-profit, entertainment purposes only.

Archiving permission granted.

THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

Synopsis: A little good old-fashioned cowboy action.

"BLOOD MONEY" - chapter 1

by Eric R. Umali

"On the Trail"

Grandpa Doug Wildey's voice was low and drew everyone around the campfire into his tale.

"Jane's parents were ordinary folk, just like you or me-- an Irish trapper for a pa and a French immigrant for a ma, the whole lot of 'em just tryin' to make a life in America.  Now her daddy, he disappeared on an expedition out west.  So, her ma, penniless, took the only job she could find, and with Janey in tow, took up as a cabaret singer in Atlanta."

"Now as you can figure, Jane grew up real fast.  The regulars in that saloon made sure that girl learned plenty of lessons she'd need later on in life-- how to shoot straight and sure and how to play a mean hand of poker.  Lonely Sue, the proprietress, made sure Janey learned her letters and kept the little spitfire they called 'Calamity' out of too much trouble."

"When the Civil War struck, it struck hard.  Janey's mom married herself a man from Boston, and they moved east, where Jane fit like a square peg in a round hole.  So, the girl wrote her ma a tender letter and, at the age of fourteen, lit out for the frontier.  Her stage was attacked by a Comanche raiding party, and scrapper that she was, Jane was the only one to survive.  The chief there was married to a white woman, and they took the girl they named 'Little Fire Rock' in as their own daughter."

"It was a happy life till Janey was supposed to get herself married.  Determined to live her own life, she struck out on her own again, working as a scout for the U.S. Army and as both a bounty hunter and lawman.  She was hell-bent on seeing justice done and protecting the many innocent settlers in the untamed west."

Jessie was mesmerized.  She could no longer see the campfire, or Grandpa Doug.  The sweeping vista of the Old West stretched across her vision, and not too far in the distance, sitting atop her horse like a sentinel, was the slim, strong figure of Calamity Jane herself.  Grandpa Doug's words turned into motion, her imagination ten times more vivid than any film.

**********

The woman known as Calamity Jane had deep red hair she wore tucked underneath her wide-brimmed hat, a Comanche's eagle feather dangling from a knot.  Her riding leathers were adorned with designs from the same nation, and a bullwhip was looped at her belt.

Jane rode to the top of a nearby hill, a position that commanded a wide view.  A mile and a half below her, in a dry riverbed lay a lonely stretch of train track.  She looked to the distant horizon, and squinted her dazzling green eyes.  She could see the faint puff of steam coming closer.  Jane heard the faint clop of hoofbeats approaching from behind her.

"You're late," she said, not turning.

"Nah, Jane," replied the low, gruff voice, "you're early."

Jane nudged her horse around to face the dark-clad man on horseback before her.  Long dark blonde hair  pooled at his shoulders, and his sun-narrowed blue eyes seemed to hold as much wisdom as they did mischief.  "I half expected you not to come, Jimmy," said Jane.

"I must say," the man answered, "I'm surprised at it myself.  You know this ain't my usual pursuit, Jane."

She nodded.  Jimmy was a good man deep down, she knew, but he was no lawman-- not even a bounty hunter.  The charming gambler and gunfighter the world called Wild Bill Hickock made his money at the poker table, and usually served only his own ideas of justice.

"I know that.  But this is different.  Texas Tommy McKinnon is riding with Bill Doolin's gang on this one."

Hickcok bristled.  "You sure about that, Janey?"

Calamity only let two people call her by that name.  James Butler Hickock was the only one under fifty.  He was also a sight more pleasant to look at and talk to than old Joe Presto.

"I'm sure."

He drew his pearl-handled Colt and spun the cylinder, then replaced it.  "Then let's save us a gold train."

The two future legends looked down into the gulch.  A cloud of dust had formed in the distance.  Riders were headed to intercept the oncoming locomotive.  With a whoop, Jane kicked her horse into action, and galloped off, Hickock a yard behind her.

When the Doolin Gang caught sight of the pair, they rode straight into a hail of hot lead, returning fire with amazing accuracy.  In seconds, they were nearly on top of one another, but half of Doolin's eight men were already on the ground, wounded.

Texas Tommy McKinnon pulled back the hammer of his six shooter, and aimed it right at Jane's head.  Hickock leapt from his horse, sending him and Texas Tommy crashing to the ground.  Jane whirled to see the two men struggling in the dust.

Jane spun her pistol back into its holster, and wrapped her gloved fingers around the handle of her whip.  The leather bullwhip cracked twice, and two more bandits clutched their hands in pain, disarmed.  There was a sharp sound as Hickock's fist connected with McKinnon's jaw

McKinnon dropped like a sack at his opponent's feet.  "That was for Rock Creek, you son of a--"

A bullet whistled past his head.  He and Jane whirled to see Doolin and his remaining comrade swinging up from their horses onto the oncoming train's coal car.  Jane took off like a shot as Hickock leapt to his own mount and followed.

They exchanged shots with Doolin and his man as they closed the gap to the speeding locomotive.  The tons of iron barreled down the tracks.  Jane yanked at the reins and cut across in front of it, narrowly missing the cow catcher.

One of Hickock's bullets sprayed bits of coal in front of the two bandits, and he took the chance to jump from his horse again.  He landed lightly on the wide running rail beside the engineer's compartment.  The frightened man inside jumped.  "Are you law?" he asked frantically.

"Nah," Bill replied gruffly, "but right now I'm close enough."  He raised his Colt and took careful aim.

Hickock squeezed the trigger and the second bandit's pistol exploded in his hand.

"Damn!" shouted Doolin.  The man turned tail to escape only to hear the familiar sharp crack of a whip.  His arms were encircled by the leather and he was held tight.  Jane stood atop the first car, Doolin struggling at the end of her whip like a freshly caught fish.

Hickock shook his head as he holstered his gun.  "You're one of a kind, Janey," he called.

"And don't you forget it," she shouted back.

**********

There was a long silence, then one of the ranch hands whooped in approval, shaking Jessie out of her daydream.  "Ain't nobody tells a story like Doug, huh kids?"

"That's for sure," said Jonny smiling.  He looked over at Jessie, who was rubbing her eyes.  Jonny handed her his lemonade.  "Here, Jess-- you look like you need this."

"Huh?" she asked.

"You just spent the last twenty minutes with your mouth hanging open."  She took the cup.  "Your first time listening to one of Grandpa Doug's stories is always a memorable moment."

"You can say that again," Jessie replied, taking a long drink.
"All right everyone, time to turn in," announced Doug.  "There'll be plenty of work to do tomorrow."

"What else is new?" called another hand, and everyone laughed.

They all walked slowly back to their rooms.  A bit later, Jonny was on his way back from his shower and found Jessie staring intently at her computer, her red hair still damp.

"Aren't you sleepy yet?" he asked, then yawned for effect.

Jessie started a bit, surprised.  "Huh?  Oh, sure I am.  I just wanted to get a few things done before I turned in."

"Can I see?" asked Jonny as he sat beside her.

"Sure.  I'm trying to find whatever information's out there on Calamity Jane."

"You're really stuck on her, aren't you?"

Jessie shrugged.  "You can count the famous and semi-famous female western figures on one hand, Jonny.  She's the most famous one.  Besides, there's just something about her..."

The computer pinged, and they both watched a message pop up.  "Search complete," it read, and the computer proceeded to list various bits of electronic information on Martha Jane Canary.  They scanned through a few minor entries before finding an online version of an obscure biography.

Introduction explained that the book had been compiled a few years after Jane's death, and was based on contemporary, first-person accounts.

"Look," said Jonny, "they've got a picture scanned from an old daguerreotype of Jane.  That's one of those early photographs, right?"

She nodded.  "Mm-hmm.  Made on silver-coated metal plates.  Let's see what she looked like."  She clicked on the link.  A grainy, gray-black image appeared.  "I'll run an enhancement filter."

Slowly, the image began to resolve into a sharp, clear portrait.  The portrait was taken from the shoulders up, obviously of a younger Jane, no more than twenty-one years old.

Jessie gasped.

It was like looking into a mirror.

TO BE CONTINUED...