Wildcat Kitty and The Cyclone Kid Ride Again

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This item has not been rated yet. A band of wild west "good" outlawsknown as The Wildcat Gang are led by unlikely leaders; a young girl and her grandpa. They ride thrilling trails of adventure throughout the west seeking justice. Log in to rate this item. You must be logged in to post a review. There are no reviews for the current version of this product Refreshing There are no reviews for previous versions of this product.

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Sworn Statements I have a good faith belief that use of the copyrighted materials described above as allegedly infringing is not authorized by the copyright owner, its agent, or the law. I wish to be contacted with the results of the investigation. Your notification has been sent Lulu Staff has been notified of a possible violation of the terms of our Membership Agreement. We were unable to complete your request. Keywords western , romance , adventure , humor , history , bank robbery , stagecoach , gambler , horses , dime novels , justice , marshal , sheriff , frontier ladies Listed In General , Fiction More From Franklin D.

Wildcat Kitty and The Without a word to each other, they all seemed to know instinctively what to do. They drew guns and urged their horses down the incline toward the trail below. At first the outlaws had not seen the oncoming riders. They had just about brought the stage to a halt and was circling it when the oncoming riders opened fire.

Books by Franklin D. Lincoln

Stunned, the outlaws spun their horses around to face the oncoming threat. What they saw chilled them with fear. They began to fire furiously and indiscriminately. Their shots going wild with fear. Their horses colliding with each other as they all tried to make an escape. Charging down the hill before them was none other than the most feared gang in the west: In the center and in the lead was none other than The Cyclone Kid himself. Reins were in his teeth. A six shooter was in his right hand and a Winchester was in his left He fired both alternately, cocking his Winchester one handed with a wrist action and firing again.

To his left, astride a magnificent big gray stallion, was Araphoe Brown and next to him was Chief Two Owls. They all had pistols out firing rapidly as they bore down on the surprised outlaws. They were only half way down the hill when all hell broke out behind them.

Wildcat Kitty and The Cyclone Kid Ride Again by Franklin D. Lincoln (Paperback) - Lulu

More riders appeared on the ridge above. Sunlight glinted off tin stars on vests.

There were at least a dozen of them! Kitty spun around in her saddle until she was riding backward on her pinto. Her Stetson fell off and, held by the chin strap, draped down the back of her red and white checkered shirt. Her long auburn hair spilled out onto her shoulders. She fired repeatedly, plucking hats from several heads. The possemen began to draw rein and slow their pace. Kitty giggled and swiveled back around in the saddle, turning her attention back to the outlaws. The Wildcats were almost upon the outlaws by now and firing had subsided.

The outlaws seeing the posse, also approaching, knew they were done for.

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They quickly threw down their weapons and raised their hands. The Wildcats had known there would be more outlaws holding up the stage than they could handle themselves, so they knew they would need the help of the law, just this one time. With the sheriff and his posse hot on their tail, they figured they could get them to follow them to the stage holdup just in time to foil the outlaws. Seeing the oncoming posse riding in to take charge, The Wildcats waved tauntingly to the sheriff, spurred their horses and rode off, seeking new adventures and justice in the west.

She was a little girl of ten years old. She had blonde, curly hair, blue eyes and the freckles were almost gone from around her little pug nose. She was still gazing longingly at the worn cover of the old book.

Cathy pulled it away and tucked it into the rear pocket of her bib overalls. He was twelve years old and liked acting like the older and smarter brother. Besides, The Cyclone Kid is the real hero of the story. The patter of hard rain drilled on the roof and it was cozy in there. The children often climbed up there to play on rainy days. Then, neither can Cyclone. At the moment the lid was standing open and several clothing items were draped over the outside edges where the children had left them a bit disheveled when they rummaged through the contents.

It was no business of theirs. The trunk has sat there untouched for many years and had acquired layers of dust, cobwebs and hayseed that had drifted in from the three bay areas that comprised the rest of the barn for hay storage. The loft had never been used for any such purpose. Only for general storage of items kept for whatever reason or no reason at all. This was what made it an ideal play area on rainy days and often on days that were not rainy at all, but just a refuge for little ones to play and imagine themselves in another realm.

Wildcat Kitty and the Cyclone Kid, p.1

The pictures on the cover of these paper novels were alluring and the children were immediately intrigued. They pulled one out and crawled under the large window that filled the peak of the barn front.


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Enough light would filter through, even on a rainy day, that they could see to read the pages. The print was large and the reading level was simple enough for them. Occasionally, they would be able to look out the window to see if anyone was coming. From here, they had a clear view of the barnyard. The tractor and hay wagon sat idle, hitched together in the driveway; rain pelting down on its load of bundled corn stalks. It was late August and rain was prevalent in the Midwest.

Across the road was a white frame house. A Packard sat in the driveway. Grandpa hardly ever worked with the men anymore. He spent most of his time with Grandma who had been ailing for quite some time. She put the book back where it was. Flipped the clothes back in, dropped the lid and turned the latch. It was almost conspiratorial. Maybe once in a while, we could sneak another look.