The Greatest Train Robbery You've Never Heard Of | Teen Ink

The Greatest Train Robbery You've Never Heard Of

December 15, 2013
By Grace Bryant BRONZE, Indialantic, Florida
Grace Bryant BRONZE, Indialantic, Florida
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Underneath the blazing California sun, two men were camped out in the shade of a large oak tree. These men were not often seen strolling through towns and cities or farming on a piece of property or talking to a friendly neighbor. Whenever these two characters were spotted, they were either holding up stagecoaches and banks or breaking into the General Mercantile; however, their faces were ubiquitously displayed on the wanted signs pinned up on the side of every building in almost every town across the West.
They were known as the McMiller Brothers. Billy was the oldest and the brashest. He was fearless and brave and would never be seen without his two trusty pistols holstered to his belt. The hair that was always combed to the side of his head was a dirty shade of blonde and he always wore a mustache that matched it. Davis, the younger brother, was a big, burly man whom everybody feared because of his incredible strength, but not much else. He wasn’t the smartest rider in the West. These two outlaws traveled from city to town, town to city, robbing whatever they came upon. Every sheriff across the state fired their pistols at the sight of them, but they always seemed to escape. The brothers were legendary.

Smoke rose up across the desert, filling the air with the scent of hickory sausages cooking in the red afternoon sun. Davis looked up as his brother approached and dismounted his horse.
“You better have that meat cooked all the way through this time." Billy picked one up and started chewing on it. "I found out about a train leaving Charton in four days. It's carrying a safe full of money to a bank in Santiago" He swallowed. "And we're gonna rob it."
"We're gonna rob it? A train?" said Davis. " How we supposed to get all the way to Charton?"
"It's a three day trip and the train leaves in four days. If we leave tomorrow, we can get to the train station by noon on Saturday." Billy unpacked his sleeping bag and laid it on the dirt. "It'll be easy after that. All we gotta do is get on board, climb on the express train, and get the expressman to open the safe. It ain’t nothin’ we haven't done before."
"Where'd you hear about it?" questioned Davis.
"It doesn’t matter, you idiot. If you paid any attention you’d know about it too. They have posters hanging up all over town.”
“How much is on the train?”
“I reckon several thousand."
“So we leave tomorrow then?”
“Didn’t I already say that? Now shut up and go to sleep.”

The next morning the two men packed up camp, and mounted their horses, leaving behind the ashes from their fire. They had been traveling for about two hours when suddenly Davis stopped his horse.
“Billy, you hear that?” he whispered anxiously. Billy halted his horse.
“What are you talking about? Did you sneak a sip of my moonshine? I swear, if you did...”
“No! Just listen.”
“Davis, you better not be puttin me on...”
Just then, a giant rattlesnake launched out of the nowhere, missing Davis’ horse by mere inches. As Davis struggled to hang on his bucking horse, Billy got out his shotgun and shot the snake.
“Whoa! Whoa there, Whiskey! Stop it!”
Eventually, Whiskey settled. The snake lay motionless in the dirt.
“You idiot!” Billy said as he leaned over and picked up the snake. “Got you somethin’ to cook tonight. You better not burn it, this looks pretty darn good.”


The rest of the day the two outlaws traveled through the sand, till dusk, when they finally stopped and camped out for the night in the middle of the desert. After their tent was set up, Billy got the fire going. Davis started cutting up the snake that would soon be their dinner.
"How far do you think we've traveled?" Davis asked, once the snake meat started sizzling in the skillet.
"I dunno. I reckon we're bout to San Hillers. San Hillers is a busy city, so I think we could cut through there without being noticed." answered Billy. Davis handed him a plate of rattlesnake meat.

"You sure we won't get recognized?" Davis asked.

"Yeah, it should be alright. Gotta keep an eye out, though. A lotta people are looking for us."
Yawning, Davis went into the tent and almost immediately began snoring. After putting out the fire, Billy went in to join him.


The two brothers set out early the next day, in hopes that they would be able to shorten their trip by cutting through the busy city of San Hillers. They had come to a part of the west where a large, green forest lay. Not long after they began their days journey, they stopped at a large river running straight through their path.

"We're gonna have to wade through it." Billy hopped off his horse. "Let’s go." He slowly led Potatoes into the frigid water. Davis nudged his horse on into the river.
After crossing, they walked along for awhile before Davis broke the silence.
“You got any beef jerky left, Billy?” Davis asked as his stomach rumbled.
“Yeah, I got a little bit, but we gotta save most of it for later.” He started to hand a piece to his brother, but stopped. Billy dismounted his mare and examined the dirt directly in front of him.
“You see these tracks, Davis? It looks like they were just made by a stage coach passing through.”
“If we cut off the path, maybe we can catch up to it.”
“I dunno. I say we take it from behind.”
“They’ll hear us!. I think cutting through the forest would be best.”
“We’re gonna do it my way and that’s that.” Billy nudged his horse to a trot. After a bit of grunting, Davis went to catch up to his brother.
As the stage coach came into view, the two outlaws slowed down to a walk. They followed the stage coach and came up to it slowly.
“Ready?” whispered Billy. As soon as Davis nodded back, Billy pulled out one of his pistols and fired. The sound shook the whole woods out of its afternoon silence. The stagecoach horses spooked and whinnied. Davis and Billy circled around and held the driver at gunpoint. The younger outlaw dismounted his horse and yanked the door to the stage coach open.
He looked in and grinned at all the terrified faces.
“Alright, hand over your valuables. Whatever you got, money, jewelery. That watch you got there looks mighty fine” Davis smirked at a portly man who looked scared out of his mind. “If y’all cooperate, nobody’ll get hurt.” He collected the passenger’s loot and mounted his horse.
“Thank ya kindly!” Billy hollered as they kicked their horses into a wild gallop, shooting his pistol into the air twice.

After their fun with the stagecoach, the two men kept traveling, and finally arrived at the edge of San Hillers.
“Let’s cut through the alleys behind the buildings. I reckon no one will notice us that way.” Billy commented. They both exited the woods and entered into town.
It was flooded with people. Farmers, carpenters, store clerks, drunk cowboys, and saloon girls. People were scattered everywhere, doing all different kinds of things. The outlaws, however, did not enter into the chaos of the town. Quietly, they nudged their horses into the shadow of an alley. A few minutes later, a fight broke out in the street. There was suddenly lots of yelling and hollering. A large circle of people had formed around two men who were throwing punches at each other.
Now the sheriff of this town was a big peace keeper. He would do everything in his power to keep everyone under control. Sheriff Smither was his name. He watched over one of the biggest cities in that area. He had many men who worked for him and who would help him maintain a peaceful town. Although he was usually a very nice man, he hated drunk cowboys and any other men who tried to mess with the law. He especially hated outlaws.
As soon as the fight broke out, Billy and Davis saw their chance to ride straight through town, since the sheriff was now distracted. They kicked their horses into a gallop and raced through town. They made it halfway through town when somebody suddenly yelled:
“IT’S THE MCMILLERS! GET THEM!”
The sheriff had spotted them. He ordered three of his men to chase them down. They mounted their horses and the race had begun. Firing pistols and shouting curses, the sheriff’s men were right on both the brothers’ tails. The outlaws had almost reached the edge of town when two of the sheriff’s men closed in on them, blocking their path. As they galloped up to them, Billy’s horse, Potatoes, reared up and broke through the other horses. The brothers had escaped.
“THIS AIN’T THE END FOR YOU, OUTLAWS! THIS AIN’T THE END FOR YOU!” Screamed the sheriff as he watched the McMiller Brothers ride off into the desert.

After camping out once again and dreaming of all the money that they would make the next day, the McMiller brothers started off on their last day's journey. The brothers rode through the sand and grass, with the sun beating down on their backs. But when the sun had reached the middle of the sky, they finally saw their destination in the far distance. They stopped their horses to gaze at the city.
“Hey, look Billy!” Davis shouted, “There's Charton!”


“You don't say.” Billy rolled his eyes as he nudged his horse to a walk. When the men came to the edge of the city, they dismounted their horses.


“Here. Put these on.” Billy shoved a set of nice clothes into his brother's large hands.


“Where'd you get these?” Davis asked.


“Took ‘em from the stagecoach passengers. They were in that fat man's suitcase. They'll fit you fine.” Out of his saddlebag, Billy pulled out a set for himself. After they were both dressed to look like fine gentlemen, they continued on horseback into the city. When they reached the train station, which was crowded with people, they tied their horses to a hitching post and searched for the train that was carrying the money to Santiago. When they found it, they boarded the train in- between two cars, so as not to be seen. After all of the passengers were checked for tickets, Davis and Billy entered a car and sat down.
“Right, now the plan is we go to the engine and order the drivers to stop the train. Then we get to the express car and open the safe. Easy.”
“Uh, you sure it’s gonna be easy? There’s a lot of people on the train.”
“Don’t be an idiot. They’ll just think somethin’s wrong with the engine. Now shut up and follow me.” Billy got up and casually walked towards the front of the train. Davis followed. They had reached the engine car and Billy pulled out his two shiny pistols from his holster and banged the door open.

“Hands up!” Shouted Davis. Billy turned to Davis and whispered,

“Will you just shut up! That sounds so dumb.” Billy stepped through the door and shouted at the driver.

“Stop the train and no one gets hurt! NOW!” The frightened drivers quickly pulled the break and the train came to a sudden stop.

“Easy now. You try’n to kill me or someth’n?” Billy said to the driver. Davis followed Billy as he jumped off the train and walked over to the express car.

"Open the door, Davis." Billy ordered. Davis approached the large iron door and with all his might, slid it open.

"Why, hello there, outlaws. Now what're you two doing robb'n this here train?" Smiling at them were all the sheriffs of the towns across the West, including the smirking Sheriff Smither, all with their pistols pointed straight at the McMillers' heads.


The author's comments:
I was inspired to write this piece, because I have always found the Wild West to be fascinating and I thought that it would be fun to write a story based on some of the outlaws of the Old West.

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