Chapter 4

It was a very short few minutes because just then Mr. Easterly walked into the room.

“I hear there is a young man who needs a place to stay.”

Bank President Mr. Weber introduced me. I told him I would be very pleased to have a room as I was getting tired of sleeping out. I was willing to pay for it, but he would have none of that. In short order, he had me in his pickup and headed out to his ranch.

I met his wife Sally, who treated me like a long-lost son. I had a bath before dinner and put on my only clean clothes. At dinner, I mentioned that I had to find a laundry mat in town. She laughed and asked if I had looked in a mirror recently.

Of course, I hadn’t. Well, it appeared that I was now six feet and one-half inch tall. My pants and shirt sleeves were both too short. I needed all new clothes! Fortunately, I now had the money.

The next day Mr. and Mrs. Easterly took me into town; our first stop was at the local newspaper. They wanted my description of what happened during the bank robbery.

The reporter, a Mr. James Olsen, asked me so many questions, like where I was from and about my family that I felt more intimidated by him than the FBI.

When he first introduced himself, he chuckled as he made a point of telling me he wasn’t a photographer.

I laughed and said, “You must be asked about Superman a lot.”

“You have no idea, but I have learned to live with it.”

The laugh we shared got us off to a good start, but I still felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of his questions.

Mr. Easterly let me fend for myself during the interview, but later told me I did okay. Not much praise but I had the impression that an “Okay” from him was actually a lot. He also promised to mail a copy of the article to my parents.

The next stop was at a newly opened Sheplers. They specialized in western gear, so I ended up with cowboy boots, several pairs of jeans along with cowboy style shirts, a belt with a large brass buckle, and a straw cowboy hat.

Other than the fact, I had only ridden on a fairground pony when I was really young I was a rough-riding cowboy. I mentioned that to Clint, and he told me he had the cure for that.

I thought he was going to put me on horseback.

Well, he did that, but what he meant was that he raised and provided Brahma bulls for the rodeo. He gave me the basics and loaded me on the back of one. I think he thought I would go flying. I was as surprised as he was when I stayed on.

It seems I had the natural reflexes and balance required. He gave me some pointers on waving my hat and showing off on the ride by waving my arms and hat during the eight-second ride, which I did without any problem. After riding two more bulls that morning, he said he had never seen such a natural as I had turned out to be.

He had me up on a horse and also taught me how to saddle and care for one. It all came easy and was fun, except for the half dozen times I was thrown off by both bulls and horses. After three days of this, word came from the FBI that I wasn’t needed anymore and could move on.

Clint asked if I wanted to join him as a helper on the rodeo circuit and several other projects as a wrangler (fancy word for helper and dung shoveler.) Those bulls needed a lot of wrangling!