BOUNTY HUNTER: If it’s worth more’n fifty dollars, son, then you got yourself a deal. But I gotta see it first.
SEAN: Shall I be fetching it then?
BOUNTY HUNTER: (Motioning with his rifle.) Let the little girl do it.
ANNIE, about to protest that she’s not little, chooses to bite her lip.
SEAN: Fetch it, Annie.
ANNIE goes to fetch the fiddle case – taking her time, stuffing something else down her shirt.
Have you got it, Annie?
ANNIE: Got it.
She returns with the fiddle case.
BOUNTY HUNTER: So it’s a fiddle, a golden fiddle! Stop wasting my time.
SEAN: Open it, Annie. Take it out and show him.
She takes out the golden torc – it dazzles the BOUNTY HUNTER, but then he snatches it from ANNIE, and bites it – as he does so, ANNIE whips the revolver out from beneath her shirt and points it at the BOUNTY HUNTER.
ANNIE: Mister: you drop that rifle and throw down the torc, else I’ll shoot you, mister, I will, I’ll shoot you.
A Mexican stand-off. Then the BOUNTY HUNTER chuckles.
Don’t you be laughing at me, mister…
BOUNTY HUNTER: You forgotten to cock it, little lady.
And he simply reaches forward and takes the revolver out of her trembling hands.
BOUNTY HUNTER: (To SEAN.) Now you tie the slave’s hands behind his back.
SEAN does as he’s told.
SEAN: What’ll you do with little Luke?
BOUNTY HUNTER: Don’t you worry none; I’ll take real good care of him. He’s worth more to me ’live than dead – but even ’live he ain’t worth the gold in this necklace of your’n. There’s enough gold here to buy ten a’ him. So I’ll be thankin’ you for the gold as well, an’ I’ll be on my way. I’m much obliged, my friends; mighty obliged. Be seein’ you.
And the BOUNTY HUNTER leads LIL’ LUKE off at the end of his rifle.
ANNIE: How was I to know you had to cock it first?
SEAN: Wouldn’t have helped, Annie. It wasn’t loaded anyway. Miss Martha forgot to give us the bullets.
ANNIE: So what’ll we do?
SEAN: Well, we got the fiddle.
ANNIE: How will that help?
SEAN: Follow me.
She does
* * *
LIL’ LUKE is in shackles by a camp fire. The BOUNTY HUNTER dozes, rifle in hand. The wind rustles the bushes – and an eerie whining wafts on the breeze. The BOUNTY HUNTER awakes.
BOUNTY HUNTER: You hear that?
LIL’ LUKE: Cain’t hear nuttin’.
The whine whines again.
BOUNTY HUNTER: You deaf, or sumpin’?
LIL’ LUKE: No, I hear that, and I’m afraid, mighty afraid.
BOUNTY HUNTER: What?
LIL’ LUKE: Ain’t you heard about the Injuns and their summonin’ up o’their ancestors’ spirits?
BOUNTY HUNTER: Hogwash!
LIL’ LUKE: Hogwash or not, I’m sure as I’m livin’ that that is a sound of somethin’ mighty fierce. An’ I don’t want to lose my scalp.
The scraping whining comes closer – the BOUNTY HUNTER is scared.
It’s a’ comin’ for us! It’s a’ comin’ for us!
And just as the whining reaches an excruciating climax – the BOUNTY HUNTER runs off, terrified.
You ain’t foolin’ me, chillun’. I’s heard you practising that fiddle enough to know you can make it squeak and scare the fleas off the back of a cat. Now untie me quick and let’s get outa here.
ANNIE rushes on – SEAN keeps lookout – and unties LIL’ LUKE and then they all scarper.
Then LIL’ LUKE gives ANNIE and SEAN a kiss.
SEAN: Hey! What’s that for?
LIL’ LUKE: I ain’t a kissin’ kinda man, but I ain’t got nuttin’ else to thank you with. You saved my life.
ANNIE: ’Twas nothing.
LIL’ LUKE: You kin drive horses, cook beans, play the fiddle, sing and dance like a princess and scare off bounty hunters without ever firin’ a shot. Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop you children, nothin’.
ANNIE: But he has still got the torc. Without that, we have nothing.
LIL’ LUKE: Well, we still have each other.
The sound of a river.
SEAN: What’s that gushing noise?
LIL’ LUKE: That’s what we came for. That is the sound of the great Ohio river. And we’s gonna find us the sisters’ Colonel-brother.
ANNIE: Where should we look?
LIL’ LUKE: In the nearest saloon bar on Main Street.
ANNIE: How d’you know he’ll be there?
LIL’ LUKE: ’Cos he’s a drinker an’ a gambler an’ that’s the only place he can be entertainin’ such past-times. Now you wait here.
And LIL’ LUKE enters a saloon bar – a thwackatackatack of the swing doors momentarily releasing the sound of male laughter, honky-tonk piano, breaking glasses – leaving the CHILDREN outside.
ANNIE: D’you think the Bounty Hunter will come this way too, looking for Little Luke?
SEAN: Not while he’s got the torc.
ANNIE: D’you think he’ll try to sell it?
SEAN: I’m afraid he will.
ANNIE: But it isn’t his to sell!
SEAN: It’s his to do with as he wants now, Annie.
The doors to the saloon bar open – thwackatackatack, laughter, honky-tonk piano – and a tall, ELEGANT MAN in grey suit stands there, leaning on his silver-topped cane.
ELEGANT MAN: I’m told I have to take you under my wing. But I’m not going to do what I’m told. If I do take you on, it will be because I want to. You will both accompany me to my riverboat. She awaits.
ANNIE: Who are you, mister?
ELEGANT MAN: I am the brother of your benefactresses.
ANNIE: The Colonel?
ELEGANT MAN/COLONEL: Follow me.
* * *
The three-tiered paddle-steamer sails into view – the paddle-wheels, the funnel.
COLONEL: I have considered what will be done, and you will not like any of it. First, I have sent Little Luke home to Boston. My sisters will be missing him and he’s done all he can for you.
SEAN: But we never said goodbye!
ANNIE: Couldn’t he have come with us?
COLONEL: It’s dangerous for him out West, as you now, no doubt, appreciate. Second, I can offer little hope that you will recover your golden torc, as I believe you call it. There are many such scoundrels as this bounty hunter, wicked men who feed like vultures on the unwary and innocent. We’d be lucky to find his needle in that haystack. Thirdly, as for finding your father, I can be no more optimistic. I have seen many an Irishman pass through, heading West, but who knows if any of them were your father; and even if one of them was, who’s to say he made it across the plains and desert? Finally, your journey to California will take you longer than you imagine. You will have to be patient. You will need to prepare before you set out on the two thousand mile journey across the great plains towards Oregon and California. You will rest aboard this boat as she sails down river. I cannot pretend that I like the arrangement, but what has to be done has to be done.
ANNIE: Hm. Firstly, we would have liked to say goodbye to Little Luke, but we were once told to never look back. Secondly, we’ll find our torc, I know we will, Mister Colonel. Thirdly, if you point us in the right direction, we’ll find Father too. And finally, why do you call this paddle-steamer ‘she’? Does she have a name?
COLONEL: She does. The Henry Martha , after my sisters.
ANNIE: Back in Boston, your sister Miss Henry said you were ’spicable, whatever that might mean. Why did she you call you ’spicable?
COLONEL: Annie O’Brien: if I was to ask you to tell me the wickedest thing you had ever done, would you tell me?
ANNIE: Yes.
COLONEL: Well you tell me and then I’ll tell you.
ANNIE: When my brothers and sisters were dying, I wished them dead all the sooner so as I could have t
heir food.
SEAN: Annie!
ANNIE: I had lots of thoughts like that. Still do. But my thoughts are wickeder than what I do.
COLONEL: ’Twould be a terrible world if it were the other way around. I will tell you my secret because you have told me yours: when I reached the age of twenty – and all this is over thirty years ago now – I inherited my part of our father’s fortune. I didn’t want to spend my life running a great furniture store in Boston; I wanted to travel, to see the world. So I was young and rich and very foolish – a catastrophic combination. I began to gamble – and I was good, very good – or I thought I was. But within two years I had gambled away all my money, drunk myself silly on whiskey, and had run into debt. I couldn’t pay. I couldn’t give up the liquor. I escaped prison by joining the army, where I made a tolerably good soldier. My sisters never forgave me, as I’ve never forgiven myself. I vowed I would never gamble again, or drink again – and to this day, I have never broken that vow.
ANNIE: But Little Luke found you gambling in the drinking saloon.
COLONEL: Not gambling, or drinking, Annie. Touting for business. I have a casino on board the Henry Martha, and I’m always looking to lure gamblers as my passengers. ’Spicable, you might say.
SEAN: Have you never been back to Boston to see Miss Martha and Miss Henry?
COLONEL: I have stood outside the house – the house we were all born in. And I have longed to go inside, but have never dared. I have faced and outfaced English soldiers, Mexicans, Red Indians; but my sister Henry has eyes that reach to my very soul. So I have always walked away, have left Boston without so much as a hello.
ANNIE: Mister Colonel…?
COLONEL: Yes, Annie.
ANNIE: You’re not as ’spicable as you like to think.
COLONEL: (To SEAN.) Now, young man, you take the wheel.
ANNIE: What about me?
COLONEL: You, Annie: I want you to explore the Henry Martha as if she were your own.
* * *
SEAN takes the wheel: the ship’s hooter hoots, the paddles rotate into action; ANNIE explores the boat, to the accompaniment of music. Then she comes running to SEAN at the wheel.
ANNIE: Sean, Sean! I seen him! I seen him!
SEAN: Seen who? Father?
ANNIE: No, no. The bounty hunter who stole our torc, I seen him. He’s on board, he’s gambling in the casino. Come quickly.
COLONEL: Hold fast, young girl. No one comes bursting into my wheelhouse screaming like a wild animal.
ANNIE: But I seen him –
COLONEL: Calm yourself.
ANNIE: The man who took Little Luke and our torc is sitting in your gambling den. Without the torc we will never reach California.
COLONEL: First, it has to be said that this rogue may well have sold your torc already – which may be why he’s sitting gambling on my ship. Second, if the torc is in his possession, then it belongs to him –
ANNIE: But third, he stole it.
COLONEL: He would deny it. It would be his word against yours.
ANNIE: And who wouldn’t believe me?
COLONEL: Every battle in my experience has to be planned meticulously. The frontal assault would be of no use. We have either to steal it back ourselves, or somehow to winkle it out of him.
ANNIE: So let’s steal it.
COLONEL: To steal would be difficult, and even if he does still have it, we don’t know where he’s hiding it.
He ponders.
There is a way…but you must not interfere nor ask questions of me, no matter what happens. Promise?
SEAN: We promise.
COLONEL: I will begin my campaign tomorrow.
ANNIE: But how do we know your campaign is the right campaign if we don’t know what that campaign is?
COLONEL: In my army, Annie, soldiers do not query an officer’s orders.
ANNIE: (Saluting.) Yes, sir!
COLONEL: Now you dance a jig, soldier – and that’s an order!
She does; SEAN fiddles, and this segues into…
* * *
The COLONEL sits at a gambling table, opposite the BOUNTY HUNTER.
CARD-DEALER: Gentlemen. This is straight poker. Place your bets.
The COLONEL appears drunk; the BOUNTY HUNTER wins hands down.
SEAN and ANNIE observe unobserved.
ANNIE: (To SEAN.) He’s gambling. He said he’d never gamble again. And he’s drinking whiskey. There is no plan. He’s just a drunkard – ’spicable, like Miss Henry said.
SEAN: (Unsure.) ’Tis his battle plan, to be sure.
ANNIE: But he’s drunk.
SEAN: (Still unsure.) I know. But our orders were not to interfere.
The COLONEL loses another hand. The BOUNTY HUNTER rakes in the chips. The COLONEL’s pile is low.
BOUNTY HUNTER: You want to give up now, afore you lose everythin’?
COLONEL: I’m only just getting into my stride. Double or quits.
BOUNTY HUNTER: But you have nothing worth gamblin’. I’m not interested in small money.
COLONEL: Then I shall gamble the Henry Martha.
General astonishment.
BOUNTY HUNTER: The who?
COLONEL: This paddle-steamer. She’s all I have and she’s worth a dollar or two.
BOUNTY HUNTER: You’re drunk.
COLONEL: That’s as maybe, but what do you say? Can you match the bet?
BOUNTY HUNTER: And what might she be worth?
COLONEL: A good few thousand, I’d say.
BOUNTY HUNTER: I got around one thousand here in greenbacks – and I got the rest in gold.
He removes the torc from inside his jacket – to everyone’s astonishment.
Are you satisfied, Colonel? Will you play the hand?
COLONEL: I want to touch it first. Feel it.
BOUNTY HUNTER: What?
COLONEL: Your gold thing.
The BOUNTY HUNTER carefully hands it over, suspicious.
No. This is not pure gold. Pure gold would not spring like this.
He bends it.
BOUNTY HUNTER: Careful, man!
COLONEL: It’s too dull, too red. It contains an alloy of some kind, copper I should guess. If this is all you have, then I withdraw my offer.
BOUNTY HUNTER: Chicken.
COLONEL: A chicken can lay eggs. She helps to feed people. She is of some use in this world. May I ask if you have ever in all your miserable life done anything as useful? You’re a fool, sir, a scavenger and a scoundrel. Do you have something else to match my offer, sir?
BOUNTY HUNTER: That’s all I got, Colonel. No more than the clothes I stand up in.
COLONEL: Then I shall take those as well, as an assurance of the bet.
BOUNTY HUNTER: My clothes?
COLONEL: Yup.
BOUNTY HUNTER: You gotta bet. And when I’ve finished with you here, Colonel, I’ll take great pleasure in throwin’ you off my boat!
COLONEL: So play your hand.
The BOUNTY HUNTER does so with a flourish.
CARD-DEALER: Four Kings and the Ten of Clubs
Gasps.
COLONEL: A good hand. Too good I fear to be an honest hand –
BOUNTY HUNTER: What the…?
COLONEL: But even if it were an honest hand it would not be good enough.
And the COLONEL lays his cards down one by one.
CARD-DEALER: Four Aces and the Queen of Hearts.
More gasps. The BOUNTY HUNTER looks green. The COLONEL is suddenly sober.
COLONEL: You are worse than a dog, sir. You robbed my two young friends here –
SEAN and ANNIE step forward.
BOUNTY HUNTER: You!
COLONEL: You robbed them of everything they had in this world, and that was not much. But now you hand the torc back to them, and you hand them your greenbacks. A bet’s a bet.
The BOUNTY HUNTER knows he’s been beaten, and hands over the torc and dollar bills.
Aren’t you forgetting something?
BOUNTY HUNTER: Colonel?
COLONEL: Your clothes, man, your clothes.
BOUNTY HUNTER: You’re kiddin’ me!
COLONEL: Jacket, boots, trousers – and what’s left of your modesty, I shall throw off my ship.
The BOUNTY HUNTER disrobes to roars of laughter.
BOUNTY HUNTER: You cain’t do this to me!
But the COLONEL can and so the BOUNTY HUNTER jumps overboard in nothing but his underwear, before he is thrown. The COLONEL throws the BOUNTY HUNTER’s clothes overboard after him.
ANNIE: (To COLONEL.) You cheated. I saw you under the table. I saw where that Ace of Diamonds came from.
COLONEL: Well that’s gratitude for you! Of course I cheated, Annie. I cheated because he cheated. I just did it better, that’s all. Did you see where the Ace of Hearts came from? You didn’t, did you?
ANNIE: But that’s dishonest.
COLONEL: What did you want me to do? Lose? You’ve got your golden torc and the world has righted itself, so what are you grumbling about, young lady?
ANNIE: I’m never grumbling, Mister Colonel. I just wanted you to know that I knew, that’s all.
SEAN: Are you sure we’re to have all this money, Colonel?
COLONEL: Not all of it, no. We’ll need much of it to finance our trip – our wagon, our provisions, our food…
SEAN: ‘Our’?
COLONEL: Well you didn’t think I’d let you go alone into the wilderness and miss out on the adventure myself, did you? I have always yearned to see the Pacific Ocean before I die. We shall all go West together and find your father.
ANNIE: You don’t have to come with us, Mister Colonel. We can manage.
COLONEL: No, I don’t have to come with you Annie, and I’m sure you would manage. But I want to come with you. Now, two thousand miles is a long way to travel – and we cannot go it alone – we’re going to have to join a wagon train. We’ll need to pick our friends carefully.
SEAN: How will we do that?
COLONEL: We’ll hold a meeting.
* * *
And a meeting of FARMERS, heading West from a bustling Frontier Town, forms.
My name is Colonel Whitman, Colonel Paul Whitman. You’ll be looking for someone to lead your wagons across to California. I have been thinking it over and I’m willing to offer my services.
FARMER: Why you?