Lord Bowler ducked as Lawrence Marsden swung at him. His partner, Brisco County, Jr., had assured him that Marsden and Homer Norman would be easy bounties. What they found were two bank robbers that would rather fight to the death before they would allow themselves to be taken back to jail. Brisco and Bowler had tracked Marsden and Norman to a saloon in Hadleyville, and now were tearing the place up trying to subdue the two outlaws.
Bowler saw Homer Norman hit Brisco with a chair. His friend slammed against the wall hard and slid bonelessly to the floor. Marsden tried to land a punch on the big bounty hunter, but Bowler surprised him by grabbing his fist, pulling the bank robber towards him and head butting him. Bowler yanked the sawed-off shotgun from his shoulder holster and pointed it at Norman. "Drop the chair, Norman," he growled. "You better hope you didn't kill my partner or I'll try a little Cherokee torture on you before I take you to jail." He looked around at the stunned onlookers. "Somebody wanna get the sheriff in here?" Bowler bellowed.
The sheriff arrived a few minutes later, already alerted by a saloon patron. Bowler relaxed and holstered his gun as the lawman and a couple of deputies hauled the bank robbers off to the jail. Bowler knelt over Brisco and gently shook him. "C'mon, County. Wake up." His partner groaned and sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "You okay?" Bowler asked anxiously.
"My head hurts like hell," Brisco replied. He looked at his partner. "Thanks, fella, for saving my butt."
"Huh?" Bowler was stunned. His best friend looked at him without any recognition in his dark eyes. "Don't you know who I am?"
Brisco looked at him and shook his head. "Ow. No. Should I?"
"Uh," Bowler was at a loss. "Do you know who you are?"
"Sure," County said confidently, then stopped. Confusion quickly replaced confidence. "Uh, actually, I don't."
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"Brisco County?" County laughed. "What kind of fool name is that?"
"You was named after your daddy," Bowler explained, still worried that his friend wasn't showing any sign of regaining his memory. He'd asked the bartender if there was a doctor in town, but the barkeep said the doc was in San Francisco, picking up supplies. Bowler decided to take his friend home to San Francisco. He hoped familiar surroundings would jog Brisco's memory. Bowler guided his partner outside to where their horses were tied.
Brisco flinched as Comet whinnied a greeting. "You don't expect me to ride that, do you?" he asked Bowler fearfully. Comet grumbled in surprise.
"He got clobbered with a chair, Comet," Bowler explained. "And now he's got amnesia." Comet whickered and tossed his head angrily.
Brisco watched the exchange in awe. "You better hope no one sees you talking to that horse," he suggested. "People will think you're nuts."
Bowler opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. He motioned to Comet. "Just get on the damn horse, Brisco."
"But what if he bites?" County asked, still fearful of the big chestnut.
"I guarantee he'll bite you if you don't get in that saddle," Bowler growled. Brisco carefully mounted the horse. "C'mon, Comet," Bowler said as he mounted his own horse. "Let's get this fool home."
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Bowler became more worried the closer they got to San Francisco. For one, Brisco was too quiet. Usually as they rode, County would talk about "the coming thing". The "coming thing" tended to change weekly. Bowler would usually let Brisco jabber for a while, and then tell him to shut up. Today, though, County rode quietly beside him, speaking only to ask the name of a particular river or mountain or town. Bowler almost laughed---Brisco had grown up around here and knew more about the area than Bowler did. Well, yesterday, he had.
As they rode through San Francisco, Bowler noticed a signboard in front of the Lucky Nugget Saloon. It advertised performances by Dixie Cousins. "Miss Dixie," Bowler murmured. "If anybody can get Brisco back to normal, it's her." He guided his horse to the rail, glancing over his shoulder to see if County was following.
Inside, he steered Brisco to the bar and ordered a beer for him. "Stay right here," Bowler commanded. "Don't leave. I'm gonna get someone to help you."
"Okay," Brisco replied, eyeing a waitress as she passed.
Bowler went backstage and was challenged by the bouncer. "Let me see Miss Dixie or I'll take your head off," he growled. The bouncer debated whether to take on the big bounty hunter when he was rescued by Miss Cousins. She entered the saloon from the back door and stopped to see what was going on.
"Bowler?" Dixie was surprised to see Brisco's partner without Brisco.
"Miss Dixie," Bowler said nervously, pulling his hat from his head. "I need you to help me with Brisco. A bank robber over in Hadleyville hit him, and now he don't know who he is."
"Oh no," Dixie said, concerned. "Where is he?"
"Out front. I thought if anyone could help him remember, it'd be you." He motioned for Dixie to follow. As they entered the main room, they saw Brisco flirting with a pretty waitress.
"That part of him seems to be intact," Dixie fumed, bunching her hands into fists. "Although he may not live long enough to do anything else."
Bowler grabbed her elbow. "I tell you, Miss Dixie, he's not the same person. He's even afraid of Comet."
Dixie stopped and stared at the bounty hunter. "You're kidding."
Bowler nodded in Brisco's direction. "Go talk to him and see for yourself."
Dixie sauntered up to the bar. The waitress took one look at the fury on Dixie's face and made herself scarce. "Hello," Dixie purred, running a finger up Brisco's sleeve.
"Hel-lo," County replied, grinning in interest. "What's your name, beautiful?"
Dixie shot a startled look at Bowler, who shrugged helplessly. "Why don't you come back to my dressing room," she suggested, turning back to Brisco. "And let's get better acquainted."
"Sure," Brisco said eagerly, following her backstage. Bowler ordered a beer from the bartender and sat down to wait.
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Pete Hutter entered the Lucky Nugget an hour later and ordered a beer.
"Hey," said the barkeep. "You heard about Brisco County Jr.?"
"Nope," Pete sneered. "He dead?"
"Worse," the bartender replied. "He got hit on the head earlier, and now he doesn't know who he is."
"Really?" Hutter leaned against the bar, wanting to know more. "Where is he?"
"Backstage with Miss Dixie." The barkeep looked up. "Check that. Here he comes." Pete followed his gaze. Brisco County and Dixie Cousins emerged from the backstage door. Brisco was smiling; Dixie was not. County made his way to the bar while Dixie stomped over to where Bowler sat and began arguing with him. Pete grinned evilly and made his move.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked Brisco.
"Sure," Brisco replied. "Thanks."
"So, what's yer name, friend?" Pete asked, astounded that County didn't recognize him.
"Uh, I'm not sure, but everyone seems to call me Brisco."
"Well, Brisco," Hutter said. "I have a little project in mind that you'd be perfect for. Care to assist me?"
County eyed him warily. "What does it pay?"
Pete grinned. "More money than you could possibly imagine."
Brisco smiled and clapped Hutter on the shoulder. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go."
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"I tell you, Bowler, it's like the lights are on, but nobody's home. Have you taken him to see a doctor?" Dixie asked.
"Not yet." Bowler looked around and realized that Brisco was nowhere to be seen. "Didn't Brisco come out with you?" he asked Dixie.
"Yes," Dixie looked behind her at the bar and came to the same realization. She hurried to the bar. "Charlie?" she asked the bartender. "Have you seen Brisco County?"
"Sure," Charlie answered. "He just left with Pete Hutter. Hey, has that scenic painter finished with the new backdrop yet?"
"What scenic painter?" Dixie asked, exasperated.
"Shit," Bowler said.
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"Owen," Pete said. "Better hurry it up. The 3:15 is on its way."
"I wish you'd given me more time," the scenic painter groused. "This rock is bigger than your usual."
"As much as I appreciate artistic temperament," Pete sneered. "This ain't the Sistine Chapel and you ain't Michelangelo. Hurry it up."
"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Owen asked dubiously.
"I'll admit, it didn't work with the stagecoach," Pete said. "But it worked great when we broke John Bly's gang out and killed . . ." Hutter realized that Brisco was hanging on his every word. "Killed that federal marshal." Pete pulled his bandana up over his nose.
"What'd you do that for?" Brisco asked.
Pete stared at him a moment, then tugged the bandana down. "I'm allergic to the smoke comin' out of the locomotive," he replied crossly. "You aren't allergic, are you?"
"I don't think so."
"Well then," Hutter said. "You don't need to cover your nose." He pulled the bandana up again, hiding his smile at County's gullibility. That Brisco would be recognized as a train robber would be a major coup as far as Pete was concerned.
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"I don't understand," Dixie said as she followed Bowler. "Why didn't Brisco take Comet?"
"Comet don't like Hutter," the bounty hunter replied. "He'd never let Brisco go off with Pete." Comet murmured in agreement. Dixie patted his neck.
"Are you sure Pete went this way?" Dixie asked.
Bowler leaned over his horse's neck and pointed at the ground. "I'm assumin' he's got the scenic painter with him. There's paint drips every so often." A train whistle made him pause. "Maybe we'd better try to flag down the train before it hits that rock."
Dixie looked at him in surprise. "You really think you can flag down a train?"
"You got a better idea?" Bowler growled.
Dixie dismounted and stood as close as she dared to the train track. She bent over and pulled up a corner of her skirt, exposing one of her famous legs. "I read this in a book once," she explained. The train rounded the bend, and began to slow as it neared the spot where Dixie stood. The engine stopped, belching smoke.
"Dixie Cousins?" the engineer asked as he leaned out the window. "It is really you?"
Dixie patted her curls. "Why yes," she drawled, batting her eyes. "I swear I meet fans wherever I go. Could I trouble you for a moment of your time?"
"Why sure." The engineer climbed down from the train.
Bowler was torn between exasperation and admiration. "We wanna warn you that there's some fellas up ahead that are gonna rob you. They've got a boulder on the tracks."
"Oh no," the engineer looked crestfallen. "Pete Hutter's at it again?"
"Oooh," Dixie purred, turning her charm on the engineer. "I told Lord Bowler here that you could help us. Would you like us to clear the track for you?"
The trainman looked concerned. "I wouldn't want you to put yourself in danger for my sake, Miss Cousins."
"Why, thank you for your concern," Dixie smiled. "But I'm merely the distraction. Lord Bowler'll do the dangerous part."
"Well," the engineer said, puffing up with pride. "If you can capture Pete Hutter, I can push the boulder off with the cow catcher."
"Give us fifteen minutes, then come on ahead." Bowler said.
Dixie offered her hand to the engineer, who was so enamoured that he almost forgot to kiss it. Dixie mounted Comet and waved coyly to the trainman as she followed Bowler.
"You laid it on pretty thick," Bowler commented.
"It worked, didn't it?"
The bounty hunter grinned. "It sure did. We'd better come at them from behind. I don't know what Hutter convinced Brisco to do." They rode away from the tracks once they spotted the boulder in the distance, dismounting and leaving their horses beneath some trees. Bowler pulled his shotgun from its holster and motioned Dixie to follow him. They peered over the rocks to see Pete and Brisco crouched down, waiting for the train. With cat-like stealth, considering his size, Bowler crept up to the would-be train robbers.
"Give it up, Pete," he said, jamming the gun barrel between Hutter's shoulder blades.
"Uh, Brisco," Pete murmured, slowly raising his hands. "You can shoot Bowler any time now. He's gonna take us to jail."
Brisco pointed his gun at Bowler's temple. "You'd better drop the gun. I don't wanna have to shoot you."
Bowler eyed his friend, realizing with dismay that Brisco was serious. He slowly lowered the shotgun.
Pete chuckled with evil delight. "I'd say your goose is cooked, Lord Bowler."
The whistle of the approaching train made the trio freeze. Then Comet plowed through them, bellowing a war cry. Brisco and Bowler were knocked aside; the horse stood over a prone Pete Hutter and drooled on his face.
"Get off me, dog food," Pete yelled. Comet bent over and tore off Pete's hat, shaking it like a rag doll. "Uh, nice Comet. Easy boy," Pete said, suddenly terrified the horse would decide to bite some other part of his anatomy.
Bowler picked himself up and swatted at the dust on his coat. "Uh, thanks, Comet. Much obliged." He waved to the engineer, who guided the train slowly towards the boulder, wedging it off the tracks.
"Brisco!" Dixie cried, running from her hiding place to where the bounty hunter lay. County struck a rock when he fell; blood seeped from a wound on his temple. Dixie pulled his head onto her lap and daubed at the blood with her handkerchief.
Brisco's eyes fluttered open. "Dixie," he said, puzzled. "What are you doing in Hadleyville?"
Bowler and Dixie exchanged hopeful looks. "Why Brisco," Dixie said. "You're not in Hadleyville. You're south of San Franciso, along the SoCal railroad."
"How'd I get here?" Brisco struggled to sit up. "Comet," he said crossly. "Quit terrorizing Pete." The horse looked at him and neighed. "'Oh, so now you remember who I am'. What's that supposed to mean?" County demanded.
Bowler grinned. "Long story, Brisco. Long story."
