Previously: Meanwhile—on Historic Highway 61—not far from PawZ… Dr. James Red Cloud over the months since his colleague, Dr. Sandra Peterson adopted her, had come to love 12-year-old Mandy Peterson as family.
Mandy was a natural with animals—and a quick learner. She was interested in Ojibwe traditions and history. In particular, ‘though, field craft—the ability to pass through the forests and prairie without leaving a trail—and to follow a trail left by others—and she was good at it.
So when Mandy learned of the search for clues in the murder of Kiwi Silverthorn she wanted to help, “Please Uncle Jimmy, we need to search with the Beagle Brigade—PLEASE UNCLE JIMMY—PLEASE!”
“Let’s check with your mom.”
Sandra was not sure at first if this was a such a good idea—realizing how good Kiwi had treated them when they first arrived, AND how determined her daughter was—she agreed.
Red Cloud, Mandy, and the “Beagle Brigade” had been searching in the heavy rain for less than an hour when…
“AR-ROO! AR-ROO! AR-ROOOOOOOO!”
The Beagles and Sunshine found something!
Adventure Ten—Searching for Almonzo—Episode One… Mandy and Jimmy sprinted across the highway—and there it was—a Colt .45 automatic pistol, partially covered by leaves.
They didn’t move, or pick up the pistol—the well-trained dogs formed a protective circle.
Mandy (and the dogs) became the heroes of the moment as the investigators arrived at the scene.
They spent hours carefully photographing everything within 50 yards in every direction.
They took the evidence to the lab in Moosehead County and categorized, studied, and began to put pieces of the puzzle together.
Finally, “I know, who did this—I think!” Danger Bay Town Marshal Wyatt Earp exlaimed…
And so—GENTLE READER—we leave this story-line as an extended cliffhanger—while…
Meanwhile—Several hours (and 142 years) earlier in Danger Bay…[Cue ominous music]… They were seven—not necessarily “magnificent,” except, perhaps, in the eyes of their dog-people—they rode slowly into Danger Bay.
They stopped first at the town marshal’s office—and found it vacant.
The cobwebs informed them it had been so for a very long time.
They rode on—past the Fishermen’s and Logger’s hotels and stopped in front of Silverthorn’s Trading Post.
Brothers Brave Hawk and James Silverthorn met the marshals.
“The Marshal is dead,” James greeted, “Killed shortly after your last visit here.”
“Why didn’t you kill Almonzo, Deputy Boomer?” Brave Hawk wanted an answer, “He killed the marshal shortly after you returned to the future.”
“Let’s discuss this inside, Brave Hawk,” James’ suggestion should be understood as more of an order, “Over a flask of black ale.”
To be continued…