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A Man Called Bradford: Western
Night over the river port of St. Louis...
Moonlight fell on the countless ships that lay at anchor here. Transport ships in particular, which stopped off on their journeys between New Orleans and the forts on the upper reaches of the Mississippi.
A dozen horsemen dashed through the narrow streets of the harbor district. They wore neckerchiefs in front of their faces. Some waved burning torches, the others had drawn Winchester carbines from their scubbards.
The pack reached the makeshift shore zone fortified with logs. The leader pointed the barrel of the Winchester at a medium-sized paddle steamer moored on the shore.
"That's Bradford's ship! The RIVER QUEEN!"
One of the other men loaded his Winchester through with an energetic movement.
"Come on, let's get this over with!"
The torchbearers let their nags advance a bit.
The first of them lashed out and hurled his torch at the wooden planks of the ship.
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