Jack's Tale
After dinner we munched on some ginger snaps. Then Jack shared an outlaw tale.

“This happened out here in the West a long time back,” said Jack, “in an age when there were no cars and no planes. Back then, if you had to send a lett-er, you sent it by stage-coach.”

“The stage-coach was sort of like a car but it was drawn by hors-es. There was a place where men could sit inside. But the man who drove the stage-coach sat outside up on top.”

“The man who drove the stage-coach kept the strongbox next to him. The strongbox was a locked box where he kept the cash.”

“Some-times outlaws would rob the stage-coach. Those outlaws were bad men. But there was one who some said was a bit better than the rest. His name wos Bart.”

“Bart was a sharp dress-er. He did his robbing in ajacket and a black top hat. He had the best manners you ev-er saw. When he robbed, he did not yell and shout at the men he was robbing. Not Bart! He tipped his hat.”

“Then he said, Excuse me. gents. Would you be so fine as to pass down the strong'box with the cash in it?”

“No!” said Nan.

“Yes!” said Jack. “It's not just a legend. It's a fact. You can look it up!”

“Did they catch him?” Max asked.

“Nope.” said Jack, “he came back and robbed the stage:coach lots of times.”

“Did they ever catch him?” I asked.

“Yes, af-ter a long hunt, they nabbed him. They charged him with theft and locked him up for along time. He did his time. Then they let him back out.”

“Then what happened?” I asked.

Jack said, “Bart shaped up in the end. When they let him out, he said he was finished with crime.”

“That's cooll” said Max.