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The Adventures of Fredric Kinsley in America

As each of Fred’s letters arrived, Lord Fenridge summoned the family and all the servants to attend the reading. The family was amused by the saga of Fred Kinsley, while the servants were left scratching their heads. Were they referring to the same wash girl who couldn’t look anyone in the eye and always kept her head covered? How could they have misjudged her so completely?

Dear Lord Fenridge:

You would not believe all the things that have happened to me. While on the voyage to America, I managed to convince the kitchen staff that I had been hired to fill in for Douglas Rempelton, who was on leave due to illness. No one knew who Douglas Rempelton was, which was not surprising since I made him up. Completely fictitious. I served tea to all the ladies and made enough money to pay for the voyage. I think they liked me.

When I landed in America, I had three choices. I could go right, I could go left, or I could go straight. It was totally up to me. I went left. I was walking past a bank when I stopped and went in. It was an amazing building, with people at desks, tellers, and offices, doing things I couldn’t possibly understand. I decided I would work there.

I studied the place. I watched the workers and the people coming and going. Each desk had a nameplate with the employee’s name. I decided I needed one. I asked about it, and a nice lady told me where I could get one. I am now the proud owner of a nameplate that says Fredric Kinsley.

I watched everything that went on in the building for a week. There was a desk at the back that didn’t seem to have an owner. I decided to claim it. I put my nameplate on it and pretended I worked there.

I went to the personnel office to get my name on the payroll. They asked me many questions and wanted my tax identification number. I had to show my work visa, which was no problem, but I wasn’t sure how to get a tax number. It turned out it wasn’t too hard. I simply made one up. I told the lady some numbers, and she said it couldn’t be right because it was too short. Not a problem. I just added more numbers until she was satisfied.

I went back to my desk and made it look like I was doing something important. Actually, I was. I was reading every bit of information the bank handed out to its patrons, starting with pamphlets on different types of savings programmes, which listed pros and cons and the interest rates that could be earned. I learned a lot that first day.

It wasn’t long before people were coming to me for loans or to open an account. The other workers knew I was new there, so they showed me how to provide these services.

One day, after only about three weeks of doing this, the lady in the personnel department had some police officers with her, and she pointed me out to them. She must have asked enough questions of the hiring boss and figured me out. I was in trouble.

The police took me by the arm and led me out through the front door. I bolted, and they chased me. I didn’t know what to do. I had to go somewhere I could lose the officers pursuing me. I ran through an alley, through a department store, and then into a restaurant.

Here is where the miracle happened. I ran into the big boss from the bank. I mean, I collided with him. I hit him so hard that I dislodged a half-masticated chunk of beef lodged in his throat. It was a miracle, at least he thought so. He had started choking on the meat, and people patted him on the back as if that might help, but he was reaching desperation when I came barrelling through. Do you know what a half-masticated chunk of beef looks like? I do. I had to scrape it off my jacket.

Anyway, I knew him, but he didn’t know me. I quickly introduced myself as one of his employees. He was pleased by this. We became best friends, and he felt he owed me his life.

Needless to say, when the two of us walked back into the bank laughing about the incident, no one ever questioned me as a bona fide banker. I got a raise.

Thank you for teaching me my numbers.

Sincerely Fred.

Dear Lord Fenridge:

Here is an update to my last letter. Mr Erikson, the boss I rescued from choking on a bit of beef, had me get some additional education. I’m actually learning to be a real banker with a legal emphasis. He is sending me out west to open a new branch, which will undoubtedly open a whole new world of adventures.

Sundee has finally arrived. The day after she arrived, we went to the church and were married. It was nothing fancy, but I’m happy she is here. I have needed her support through this venture, and now we are reunited.

I don’t know if you remember that Sundee, for reasons of her own, always kept her head covered. Most didn’t know she had long blond hair. When she got off the boat, she threw the scarf away and has never covered her hair since.

Sundee and I boarded a train in Boston and began our westward journey. Things went smoothly until we crossed the Mississippi. I felt I had left civilisation behind. I had heard of Indians and hoped to see some. I did not, but I did see many cowboys riding horses, herding huge herds of cattle. I saw farmland as far as the eye could see. I didn’t realise my eyes were capable of seeing that far.

There are purple mountains in the distance outlined with white snow. I don’t know how to tell distance, but it truly looked like the edge of the world because I couldn’t fathom anything beyond.

The cargo I was in charge of was a bank safe containing a decent amount of money. Mr Erikson assigned two rough-looking guards to protect the assets. The two men knew how to use guns well enough, but they didn’t look like they had a brain between the two of them.

I walked back to check on them, and they were entertaining a lady. I observed for a moment, long enough to realise the lady was trying to use her wiles to get the safe combination. When the two hirelings saw me, they pointed me out, and one of the muscles said I was the only one who knew the combination. Thank you, brawn.

The woman started using her ploys on me. Fortunately, Sundee needed to stretch her legs and came to see what I was doing. She saw what was happening and punched the lady out cold. I don’t need to worry about my girl. She can hold her own.

The problem was that my instincts told me the lady wasn’t working alone. I went on high alert. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I found out who her accomplices were. I looked out of the window and saw five horsemen riding alongside the train, trying to board it. I heard someone running across the roof of the carriage, so I knew trouble was approaching.

Sundee casually slid her bow from the overhead compartment and threw her quiver over her shoulder. She winked at me. What a woman.

The two muscles guarded the door at one end of the train car, and Sundee took a position with an arrow nocked, pointing at the other door.

I could have sat back and enjoyed the show, but instead I pulled out my trusty slingshot and climbed through the ceiling hatch. There was a man positioned at each end of the car, watching the doors below. I took a coin, placed it in my sling, and took aim. The man at the back now has a silver dollar embedded in the back of his skull. He flew off the back, bouncing off the car taking up the rear. I believe he went under the train. It was thoughtful of him not to scream, as the man at the other end of the train car was not privy to my next aim. The man had a gun aimed down at the door. He wasn’t alone. He was signalling to someone below. They had planned this robbery, but they didn’t know who they were up against. You never want to go up against a Kinsley.

The man yelped as a silver dollar slammed into the back of his head. He fell straight down. I can only assume he fell under the train, where his body parts are now strewn all over the tracks, along with his buddy.

I climbed onto the roof and ran to the end to see whether there was still a man by the door between the train cars. No one was there.

I looked up and saw a Chinese man sitting casually on the corner of the next train car, watching me. He nodded respectfully. Then he pointed behind me and prostrated himself on the roof of the car. I didn’t need to look back to know what he meant. I followed his example just a second before we entered a tunnel. I came very close to becoming a permanent mark on the side of the mountain.

Just a word on tunnels. Tunnels are labor-intensive and not carved out of mountains with any more clearance than necessary. There were a few places where I felt the rock above slide past me. It’s a good thing I’m a slightly malnourished chap. The tunnel was long, and the engine’s smoke made it hard to breathe. I think I will be coughing up black chunks for a few weeks.

I went back to the hatch I had climbed through and peered into the cargo space below. The two muscle men were tied up, and Sundee was pointing an arrow at them. Behind her was another man who wasn’t hurt too badly. He just had his hand stapled to the wall with an arrow.

It turns out the two muscle men guarding the safe decided to change teams. How Sundee realised that, I will never know. She said it was women’s intuition.

Sincerely Fred

Dear Lord Fenridge:

Things are going well for Sundee and me. We have a little house in Denver, Colorado, where I am now working as the bank manager.

Sundee has made some friends among the local Indians. They like her skill with the bow. They have been teaching her about Indian culture and how to eat bear meat. You should see her in buckskin. Wow!

The gold rush was a failure for many men. A lot of mining is going on around here—mostly silver. Sadly, many men are drawn to mining because they think they will get rich quickly. It happens for a few, but most go hungry, and then they come and try to rob my bank.

One morning, I walked into the bank and found two men hanging from a rope they had lowered through a skylight. Somehow, they had gotten themselves hopelessly tangled. They couldn’t go up, and they couldn’t go down. I proceeded to pelt them with my slingshot, using pennies, before cutting them down. It seems our jails are always full.

One afternoon, a man came in and said he had a gun in his pocket. His hand was in his pocket, and it looked like he might be telling the truth, but why would he not show the gun? He looked too destitute to own a gun. The rags on his back looked as if he may have stolen them from a corpse, and his face had seen plenty of fights. What could I do—I took him to the back, gave him a good meal and twenty bucks, and sent him out the back door. He has been back a few times, and I feed him and send him off with a little money each time. The man came by yesterday. Instead of doing the gun routine, he found my broom, swept the floors, and washed the window. I’m sure I have not seen the last of him. I just hope he doesn’t tell his buddies about it, or I will have many more like him visiting me.

Regrettably, most bank robbers are not as harmless as old Walter. Desperation can drive men and women to do erratic things. They are dangerous because of their stupidity. They don’t think things through very well.

One day, a rough-looking man with a bushy beard came in, pointed a gun at my head, and told me to give him all the money I had in the vault.

I saw Sundee come in quietly behind him. She was wearing buckskin, a single holster with a gun, and a shiny star badge that gave her the authority to do what she was about to do. Her blond hair was loose and a little wilder than usual, and she had that deadly look in her eyes—similar to the time I ate the last piece of pie.

“Excuse me,” she said.

The man looked back at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her wild blond hair was striking, but it was the look in her eyes that caught his attention. Or it might have been the very large knife she was holding and the unique fighting stance she had taken.

The man growled and turned the gun, firing all six shots straight at Sundee. She moved with grace as that big knife deflected each bullet, each ricocheting with pings and sparks.

I handcuffed the man before he realised what was happening.

Sundee, holding the big knife to the man’s throat, wrapped one leg around me and gave me a kiss that would make anyone watching feel uncomfortable. Then she grabbed the man’s beard, pulled his face an inch from hers, and said, “You ever threaten my husband again, and I will kill you.”

She pushed him towards the door. Before she walked out, she looked back at me and said, “I’ll be back, sweetie.”

It was only half an hour later when she came running back. She hopped onto the counter, slid over it, and landed in my arms. She pushed me back into my office, kicked the door shut, and then…

Sincerely Fred

Dearest Lord Fenridge:

On Sundays, we attend church. Sundee dresses like a proper lady on Sundays and is admired by the ladies. There isn’t a person who doesn’t respect Sundee, but most of the ladies don’t know what to think of her, as she fulfils her role as sheriff. They appreciate her skills, and she has done an amazing job of bringing some law and order to this town.

Last month, I was approached by a miner who has a large silver mine claim by the Smoky River. He wanted to expand his production and needed a loan. We arranged a time for me to visit the mine and inspect its production. I have learned a great deal about silver mining. I know what to look for in the ore they extract from the mountain.

I have also learned that I need to do my research and determine whether the miner is the actual owner. Years ago, there were many claim jumpers. That meant high-and-mighty businessmen would go to a lucrative mine, kill all the owners, and then claim the mine for themselves. Laws were put in place to help prevent such things. The government required paperwork that had to be signed and notarised by the officials of the time.

I discovered that Mr Lawrence was not the original owner. It took me a while to find the true owner. You are not going to believe this, but the true owner was Walter, the man who tried to rob my bank with his finger in his pocket.

I was able to get Walter to tell me what actually happened. He and his partners struck it rich on one of the most lucrative silver-ore veins. Silver requires a lot more processing, so they came to town to buy the equipment. Word got out, and people became interested. Mr Lawrence wanted to buy the mine, but Walter and his partners refused to sell. Lawrence and his hired thugs followed Walter and discovered the mine’s location. Lawrence had Walter’s partners killed, then tortured Walter to an inch of his life to make him sign over the mine. Walter said the papers they wanted him to sign were not even real. In fact, that is what tipped me off in the first place. I could tell they were phoney.

Walter knew he was a dead man either way, so he jumped off the cliff into the river. Somehow, he survived. He remained hidden from Lawrence for the next five years. He was so destitute and desperate that he tried to rob my bank.

I started working with Walter to build a case, and we had all the proof we needed, but it wasn’t going to be as easy as that. People around here don’t use the law if guns work better.

I took Sundee with me. She was dressed in a frilly dress and carried a matching parasol to shield her from the hot sun. We took a carriage and went for a nice ride out to the mine, which was about three hours away. When we got there, Sundee ditched her bow and quiver of arrows in a tree. I wore my double-gun holster, which I do most of the time now. I might mention that I am handy with them; however, I never go anywhere without my slingshot and a pocket full of silver coins. You know what they say about silver; silver will always fly true. Besides, guns are so noisy, and they hurt my ears.

I wasn’t planning to confront Lawrence until I had returned to town, but he must have heard from some unknown source that I had found information about him and the mine.

He was eager to take us into the mine, and from the way he was acting, I had the distinct impression he was going to take us deep and either kill us or leave us locked in the dark. I looked at Sundee, and her woman’s intuition was on high alert.

I told Lawrence we didn’t need to go in and that we had seen enough. That was not good enough for the prospector, who took Sundee by the arm as if to escort her into the mine.

I said no, we would not be going into the mine.

He could tell we didn’t trust him. People don’t like it when their grand schemes are thwarted. Lawrence thought it would be easy to steal a mine and then make a lot of money from it. It was not to be.

We stared at each other, waiting to see who would make the next move. Who would draw their gun first? He still had a hold of Sundee and was thinking of using her to control me. It almost made me laugh. He didn’t know who he was dealing with. I almost felt sorry for the man. 

I reached for Sundee’s hand, and she tried to come to me, but the man wouldn’t let her go. Her frilly dress made her look incompetent, which I believe was her intention when she dressed that morning.

“I mean to do business,” Lawrence said. “I need that loan, and you are going to give it to me.”

“Sure,” I said. “Just come to my office on Monday morning, and we will have all the paperwork ready to sign.”

“I have the papers right here.” He pulled a wad of papers from his jacket. I reached out to take them. I looked them over and could tell that someone else had filled in the information, possibly a crooked lawyer.

“I don’t think this will do the job. Some of the information is incorrect.”

“Believe me,” the man said, “it’s correct.”

“I am not sure who you are used to dealing with.” I handed him the papers back.

He grabbed Sundee around the waist and put a gun to her back.

Sundee spun around in her frilly dress, pushing his arm down and making him shoot himself in the foot. I pointed two guns right at his head.

The man started laughing, gritting his teeth against the pain. Apparently, he thought this fight was not over. He was right. Six men emerged from the mine, their loaded guns pointed straight at me. They couldn’t shoot me until they had their loan, so I backed up, keeping my guns raised. Sundee backed up and then fainted, slumping into a pile of frills, or so it would seem to the unobservant man. They didn’t see Sundee slither out, leaving the frills behind, and scamper up a tree, camouflaged in her buckskins.

I didn’t drop the guns because Sundee was going to give me the opportunity to use them. A series of arrows rained down from the tree, striking each man in the hand causing them to drop their guns. Sundee doesn’t like killing unless she has to. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with it.

I lowered my guns to their level and stepped back so I could see all seven men. “You don’t own this claim,” I said. “It belongs to a man named Walter Randal, who is very much alive and eager to get back to work on his claim. I have already signed all the papers to give him the equipment to continue working the mine.”

Lawrence motioned for his men to take me. I shot one man, hoping they would stop. One man reached for his gun when another arrow struck his arm. Before I knew it, another man was down with an arrow through his side. Lawrence was becoming desperate. He glanced towards his gun. He winced as he broke the arrow sticking out of his hand, and I could tell his foot hurt because he was standing in a pool of blood. The other men followed suit. They were not going to give up. There was a lot of money at stake, and their greedy eyes told a story of the violence they were willing to commit.

Lawrence looked towards the tree where Sundee was hiding, then to his gun, only a few feet away. I could see the wheels turning in his head. What would he do? Would he risk his life? Yes, he would—to no avail. He dove for the gun and that is where he stayed with a bullet and two arrows taking his life.

Four men stood in awe, wondering what to do next. What do you think they should have done? Surrender? Run? Or fight a bit more? Perhaps they should have talked it over, because two men tried to run, one raised his hands high in surrender, and the last man, who must have expected some support from the others, dove for his gun and got the same punishment as his boss.

Sundee didn’t want the men to run away, so she put an arrow in the backs of their legs. It was effective. She likes to see justice done and takes pride in how many people she has in her jail. That’s my Sundee.

Walter doesn’t try to rob my bank anymore, but he has dropped in on occasion to sweep my floors.

All is well on the wild frontier.

Sincerely Fred.