Previously: We find Lt. Hiram Silverthorn, Jr., Sam Silverthorn, and Kiwidinock (Kiwi) Silverthorn were enjoying breakfast—alone, as the morning breakfast rush was over—when the heard the telltale crunch of gravel outside, “I guess I’d better get back behind the counter, boys.”
Kiwi no more than moved behind the counter when…
…Doc McLean entered—followed closely by—
“HIRAM!” Kiwi exclaimed.
Meanwhile—In Stanleyville, Forest County…
Boomer, Yatters and Company arrived at Harry’s Bar—and arrayed outside were hit-squads from BOTH the McOsker AND the Minicucci gangs—Colonel Boomer didn’t hesitate, “Weapons free—FIRE FIRE FIRE!”
Chris would be proud!
Adventure Seven—Gang Wars!—Episode Eleven… “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because m’dear,” Hiram grinned, “I wanted to surprise you—did it work?”
“We’ll discuss this later—PRIVATELY!”
“I heard there’s a possible new business opportunity about to open.”
“How did you hear about that, Pop?” Hiram, Jr. asked believing there was no way he could know what was about to occur in Forest County.
“I have sources.”
Hiram announced his new business plan.
“Pop,” Sam was astounded at the plan, “You said you would never do that—what changed?”
“The tribal Council of Elders will never agree, my husband-of-a-brick-shy, you know this.”
“We shall see, Kiwi, we shall see.”
Meanwhile—aboard the Steam-Yacht, Chicago… They were unarmed—Black Cloud and Shouse made certain of that—and neither was happy with their situation, “Well, now what?”
“I don’t know, Minicucci,” McOsker replied, “I know we have plenty of fuel aboard—where can we go to lay-low for a while?”
“Yeah, I do—Superior Wisconsin,” Minicucci replied, “I got friends there and a place to hide this boat. Those friends will get us new identities and complete histories.”
“What about the boat?”
“They can replace it—or modify it—no problem,” Minicucci said, “It looks comfortable—let’s make her look different.”
Aleev Minicucci took the helm and set a course for Superior.
Meanwhile—In Stanleyville, Forest County… It was over in seconds—the gangsters failed to get off a single (accurate) shot—three died, six wounded, and the rest surrendered.
The FBI, Minnesota State Patrol, and paramedics were called-in and took over the scene. The FBI identified Boomer, Yatters, and company as undercover operatives under their supervision, and they were allowed to leave the scene after being interviewed.
“You skated this time, Boomer,” FBI Special Agent Dom Slater growled, “I don’t like you, and I’m going to make it my business to take you and Yatters down.”
“Nice talkin’ to you Slater—How’s the wife and kids?”
Slater stormed away, “Good job, Boomer—now he’s really pissed.”
“Yeah—just like his great-great-grandfather, Almozo Slater, a Pinkerton-man I ran into in 1873.”
Thus ends this Adventure…But—Our Stories? To be continued…