Act I
Scene 1, Scene 2, Scene 3, Scene 4
Scene 1
the sun is setting
huge, in the Midwestern sky
the Badlands ablaze
cloud of dust, a comet's tail
behind lone horse and rider
both sweating against
January's chill wind and
their own breakneck speed
Scene 2
frontier mining town
nestled in mountain's embrace
gold, men, noise, saloons
a few women and children
mud and chickens underfoot
small-time merchants have
set up stalls amid the more
permanent structures
the main muddy street
a brick building stands alone
in a wooden town
a sign above the door reads:
Holman & Briggs Mining Co.
inside sacks of gold
awaiting transport on this
January day
the mine offices
surrounded, on this day, by
fourteen hired guns
men who fight, and kill, for a
bit of gold in their pockets
they are watchful men
their greatest skill: “stay’n alive
long ‘nough ta get paid”
inside, at his desk,
Mr. Holman sits content
happy for the men
happy to pay for safety
this month’s yield a goodly one
his top foreman had
reported a bonanza
deep down in shaft two
there by the window
Frank White, Holman’s fulltime gun
his focus outside
he don’t ‘spect trouble, not from
a town of miners and whores
but its not his coin
and Holman was a good boss
let him do his job
searching his men’s eyes
could he see trouble in them?
knew some were thinking:
get a group. walk in n’ take
what we wanted. who’d stop us?
but White knows them all,
trusts most and the few he don’t,
figured he could take
Scene 3
the scene shifts back to
horse and rider fleeing ‘cross
cold, stark prairie hills
a large cloud of dust miles back
twenty-three well armed horsemen
hard, dirty, weathered
men accustomed to life on
the prairie: bandits!
the sun were rising
when Jimmy White had set out
ridin’ towards Sand Flats
sent to investigate the
delay of a stage coach
set to arrive in
town yesterday to transport
the mine’s bonanza
he saw the coach, stopped
something odd, couldn’t quite tell
rode a bit closer
struck him sudden what was wrong
it seemed to be surrounded
out of a leather
pouch, a small spyglass, bringing
the commotion close
driver at gunpoint
stage guard bleeding in the dirt
armed men on horseback
suddenly there was yelling
pointing his way, he’d been seen!
spyglass put away
he turned his horse and started
riding hard away
he heard two quick shots
guessed the driver dead, said a
quick prayer in his head
more shots sounded, these in his
direction, he chanced a look
over his shoulder
the men wheeling horses
hasty to give chase
it was said Jimmy
had ridden ‘fore he could stand
and today he’d picked
a hardy, long-winded mount
a mare he’d named Caroline
they had been riding
half a day, she’d tire soon
not sure they’d make town
jump back to sunset
Jimmy riding, Caroline
is near exhaustion
“town is still an hour away
but there’s a chance I’ll make it,”
he thinks, leaning down
“good girl, just a little more”
in Caroline’s ear
Jimmy had gained ground
early on, but the bandits
slowly closed the gap
their mounts were fresher and most
were good riders, ex-cowboys
two ride close, one takes
the other’s reins, now free to,
he draws his rifle
aiming at Jimmy
the rifle bucks, missing wide
working the lever
he shoots again, strikes closer
his third shot finds Jimmy White
in a spray of blood
and a cry, he falls against
Caroline’s long neck
reins slack in his hands
Caroline slows and then stops
Jimmy slowly slides
from his saddle to the ground
none stop to put another
bullet in his back
riding on towards Holman
& Biggs Mining Co.
Scene 4
Frank White felt a bit
of a shiver down his spine,
thought nothin’ of it
it’d be dark in an hour
best split the men into shifts
Frank gave the orders
then figurin’ on some grub
crossed to the saloon
two whiskey shots and
half a meal later, he hears
horses and six-guns
the twenty-three armed horsemen
Ride into town, dusk mixing
with lanterns turning
main street a collection of
shadows and dim light
outside the office
two of Holman’s men buck out
flat-footed, the third
takes two bandits as he goes
roof guards make three eat ground then
clutch chest wounds, falling
a pause as those inside and
bandits find cover
lead volleys answer
each other across the street
three minutes of this
then no more noise ‘cept mingled
cries and moans of the dying
six bandits stride in
fill their arms with bags of ore
ride off towards sunset
amidst the shooting
Frank had stepped out the saloon
shooting iron drawn
he felled one, two, three
bandits, misfired on a fourth
who quickly emptied
his six shooter into Frank
dead ‘fore he hit ground
cold wind cleared the smoke
townsfolk looking from windows
see the town doctor
among the bodies,
the coffin man close behind
Holman, out of breath,
standing before the shambles
of his enterprise

