Molly and the Bandit: Or the Disappearance of the Celebrated Stagecoach Robber Black Bart Solved

By Ted Middleton and Will Bullas

[Both novelette and screenplay are included]

Black Bart, the West’s premier highwayman, alias Charles Bolton, T.Z. Spaulding, and others, made at least 28 hold-up’s in eight years. Middle-aged, always on foot, and mostly with unloaded shotguns, he taunted the fabled Wells Fargo Express Company with doggerel signed Black Bart, The P o 8 (Poet). Resourceful and usually polite, he never robbed passengers. Freed from prison, he vanished. Based on a recently-found manuscript, the mystery of what happened is solved. Punster Bart, cloaked in more aliases, and malaprop Mad Molly Moon roam the Sierra Nevada’s, meeting a host of characters including Colonel Ord Vivian, henchman Tiberius Bing, murderous Ben Bubbs, and the intrepid John Muir. The year is 1888. Do enter.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781532051951

Ted Middleton

Ted Middleton, a third-generation Californian, is a retired K-12 teacher. A San Jose State College graduate, B. A., M. A. and a Stanford University visiting scholar, he, as a college adjunct instructor, taught beginning and advanced journalism, California history, history of the American West, and Monterey studies classes. He was president and co-owner of Spyglass Productions, which made a number of educational releases, notably Friends of John Steinbeck, an oral history. He has contributed some 100 articles, often illustrated with his photographs, notably to Art of California, The American West, The Christian Science Monitor (photo only), The Monterey Peninsula Herald, The Oakland Tribune, Oceans, The San Francisco Examiner (ghostwritten), The San Jose Mercury, and Westways. He has altered his byline for better identity and noting his Middleton mother from whom he acquired story-telling skills and a sense of humor. He lives near Carmel, California with his amiable German shepherd called Molly, who visits his Humbug Room writing retreat.

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Copyright © 2018 Ted Middleton.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-5194-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-5195-1 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 11/27/2019

Maryl

ee’s

FORMAT

Why a novel and a screenplay published together one might ask? Honing my writing in a new, amazing form, I wrote the latter first. A friend suggested screenplay contests. Some are quite good. Many are wanting. Also cited were events where writers mingle with studio underlings. Thus, foregoing auxiliary expenses, I decided to self-publish where at the very least, hope will loiter. Editors expect details. Directors prefer brevity, often due to feeling creatively threatened. I write visually and action scenes are factually based, e.g., the bear attacks. Raging grizzlies charge with ears flat and elbows flared, at a good 30 miles an hour; important facts best embedded in the script. Finally, I wish to share what I think is a damn good yarn in two mediums based on what has become the Moon Manuscript. Faithfully told, of course! -T. M.

CREDITS

Wells Fargo Bank History Museum in San Francisco is a beacon for historians, Western aficionados and the general public. Curator Joycee Wong has been most helpful. Locally, I obtained material from the talented Taelen Thomas, actor and biographical dramatist, whose characterizations range from Jack London to Black Bart. Firearms expert John Turek verified characteristics of most the weapons cited. Colleague and bibliophile, the late Gary Childs, and my late wife, Mary Ellen, helped with proofing. Fellow Sequoia National Park trekkers, son Michael and Dennis Stevenson, for assuaging computer problems. Thanks also to my publisher iUniverse, and, of course, artist Will Bullas.

CONTENTS

Format

Credits

1.   A Lost Manuscript

2.   San Quentin

3.   Reunion

4.   Spurs

5.   Serendipity

6.   Footloose

7.   Frémont

8.   Epiphany

9.   Ordinance

10.   Kaweah River

11.   Kinnery

12.   Tangled

13.   King Of Battle

14.   Holy Kings

15.   The Something-ologist

16.   Moonarchy

17.   Foiled

18.   Scylla And Charybdis

19.   Death Valley

20.   Progeny

21.   Recidivism

22.   Embarcadero

23.   Payback

24.   Epilogue

25.   Full Moon

THE SCREENPLAY

Sources

A Sampling of Westerns

About the Author

About the Artist

ILLUSTRATIONS

I.   The P o 8

II.   The Moon Woman

III.   Incoragible

IV.   Bumpy Ride

V.   Of Royal Descent

VI.   Bingo!

VII.   Repertoriums Seeker

VIII.   Horribilis

IX.   Reincarnated?

X.   Beloved

1

A LOST MANUSCRIPT

Charley Boles, elderly, angular, stark blue-eyed, and impeccably dressed, sipped coffee impatiently at a corner window in the Emperor Norton Room. The restaurant decor was Victorian. The skyline view was panoramic. Tluncheon crowd had eased. By him was a big manila envelope. Answering his cellphone, Charley said, Damn it, I said, ‘Sell! Everything!’ He pocketed the phone.

A comely woman approached asking, Mr. Boles?

Yes.

"I’m from The San Francisco Daily Sun."

Rising, he shook her offered hand. I almost gave up on you!

I hate elevators. Sorry.

You climbed all -

Fifty flights.

Fifty-five.

No wonder!

They sat, oppositely. You’re new to San Francisco?

Yeah. Great spot for an earthquake!

I’ll order you a…

He flagged a waiter. A martini for the lady. The man nodded. I can always spot a martini lover.

Thanks. Our readers liked reading about your grandfather. But we didn’t expect the reward to be claimed.

"But The Sun, trying to find why Black Bart, the West’s premier highway man vanished after leaving prison, is still offering -"

Ten thousand dollars in gold.

From the envelope, Charley retrieves a notebook. Found while preparing my retirement.

What business were you in?

Precious metals. Here’s Gram’s manuscript, thought to be lost. Jack London edited parts, but the publisher and books perished in the damned O Six Earthquake and/or Fire. I clarified some scribbles and completed a few lost pages. Just give the reward to The Salvation Army.

A document dating test would help.

Not at this time.

Our experts must examine the manuscript.

And properly protect it.

Absolutely.

Look down. That’s Bush Street and there’s the restaurant where Grandfather and some of San Francisco’s unsuspecting finest dined. He even paid officers to find his stolen greatcoat. Far right is Silicon Valley, hub of the current gold rush.

Luring your grandfather were he here.

Indeed. Beyond is San Quentin State Prison, where he spent four years and two months.

The waiter brought the drink and left.

The reporter sipped. Oh my! Yum!

Charley hoisted his cup. To mischief!

2

SAN QUENTIN

January 21, 1888.

Toting a valise, Black Bart, age 59, lean and medium tall, exited the main gate a guard clanged shut. Keen blue eyes, high cheek bones, and a drooping mustache capped by a small imperial prevailed. He wore a bold derby on his balding pate, a double-breasted wool suit, a velvet-collared greatcoat, a stylish vest, a cravat, and handmade boots.

C:\Documents and Settings\Ted\My Documents\Molly and the Bandit - Images\P o 8 - v2.jpg

Cawing reporters, complemented by resident gulls, pierced the dusk. Foghorns sounded distantly. A young artist, perched on a stump, sketched Bart.

Jake, a seasoned reporter, asked, How are you, Bart?

Fine, considering, his deep voice resonated.

Can we expect more poems?

Sir, I will commit no more crimes, especially any against the English language.

Laughing, the men, minus Jake awaiting the artist, joined Bart walking briskly toward a prison lunch.

The artist asked, Bart’s a poet?

He left bits of doggerel at holdup scenes, signed ‘Black Bart, The P o 8’: the eight written numerically with a capital ‘P’ and lower case ‘o’.

The artist scribed. Like this?

"Yes. Penning verses in different hands to avoid detection, he wrote:

‘I’ve labored long and hard for bread,

Honor, and for riches

But on my corns too long you’ve tread

You fine-haired sons of bitches.’ "

He hated the express company?

It hauled the most loot. But cahooted with the swindling Southern Pacific Railroad.

Which stole our farm. Black Bart’s a grand name!

Inspired by a bandit in a popular yarn. Our Bart committed at least 28 holdups in eight years. All on foot and mostly with unloaded shotguns. Wearing an eye-slotted, shoulder-length flour sack over a derby, at times thick socks covering his boots, and a duster, he struck as far as Oregon, at night even, and twice made back-to-back robberies leagues apart. Indian trackers, losing him after some 60 miles, said he camped far from water, had no fires, and ate little.

What caught him?

A faded laundry mark left near a robbery. Else, he’d still be leaping from cover on a grade, using the slowed leaders as shields, demanding ‘Throw down the box!’, and avoiding guarded coaches.

He sounded like a Robin Hood.

Though he never robbed passengers, over half his take came from the mail, which, unlike Wells Fargo’s losses, was unredeemed.

The artist finished. As they followed the group, Jake noted:

"Bart wrote but wrote but two poems. Repeating the first with the second, he added:

‘Here I lay me down to sleep

To await the coming morrow

Perhaps success, perhaps defeat