Miss Penny Waistcoat could see the way things were shaping up. Just as the train slowed to a stop in Germany, she jumped off, stole her way to the nearest stable of the closest inn. Greeting the inquiring nickers of the resident horses, she whispered gently to them, looking for a nice little Arab. In the farthest stall there he was, a jet black stallion, proud head on an arched neck, prancing back and forth in the few feet allowed, blowing air at her softly through his nostrils. Quietly she slipped in with him, laid her hand along his neck and spoke to him, There ya go, boyo, that's mah good boyo, oh drat, maybe all you know is German? Uh...das gut, darlink, sehr gut, shhhh, shhhh. *Alright ya bugger, be quiet!*

Grabbing the nearby bridle, she slipped the bit in his willing mouth and tied the reins to a hook near the door. Putting the saddle blanket over his back, then the saddle, she braced her foot against his belly and cinched it up good and tight. It would be a long ride, so she threw open her satchel, switched into long breeches, stuffing her Western outfit in the bag and tying it to the back of her saddle. Throwing the reins around his neck, she stepped up in the stirrup, swung his head around and headed out the stable doors. Just then she heard the long lonesome cry of the train whistle; it hung on the air of the dark night like someone's dirty linen in the rain. Giving the Arab a swift kick, she headed off in the night, racing to beat the train to the next stop, hoping to find her compadre, James West II, before the papers were discovered. He had a few tricks up his sleeve, along with the help of his sidekick, Artemis Gordon, Jr. but, without their special train car, she knew they would be in the dark about what had happened. On into the night she road, avoiding well lit areas, following the railroad tracks as much as possible. The sturdy little Arab made tracks, leaving the lumbering train behind as it gathered steam.