volume one IN THE D U D L E Y C L A R K - Ohio Vine Tours

Old Guy backs up a bit—his gun never wavering from Roy’s
face—then sits down in a chair directly across from his captive.
Roy notices for the first time that he wears colorful cowboy
boots.
“So yer sayin’ nobody sent you?”
Roy nods vigorously. He has forgotten how to blink.
“An’ your name jess happens to be one’ve his?”
Roy, uncertain who Old Guy means asks,
“His who?”
Old Guy snorts.
“Roy’s, who else?”
Finally, at long last, Roy remembers how to blink.
“Roy’s?”
Old Guy sneers. Besides staring, this is something he’s very
good at.
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
But Roy isn’t playing.
He’s never been so dumb in his whole, dumb life.
Or so scared.
Or needed to take a leak more.
“I don’t know what you mean—I’m Roy.”
“Roy Weston?”
Roy nods.
“You got kin?”
Roy swallows.
“A brother. Rick.”
“Rick Weston?”
“Yessir.”
Old Guy considers this.
“You ever heard of Dick Weston?”
“Nosir.”
“Next you’ll tell me you never heard’ve Trigger.”
Roy blinks again.
“Trigger?”
“The Wonder Horse,” prompts Old Guy.
Roy shakes his head.
“No, I haven’t. Sir.”
ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY 1 1