The Mueller Train

Jack Mueller was a stony faced old mule driver from Kansas City. He was a mormom. Jack was hard tacked a decent docent fellow but brutish as his mule where it does count. Standing in the lead of that Train on that narrow path. Whipping the air making it crack. Never touching the mule with the cracker. The harness was getting old the leather creaking. The Blinders were not made for mule but horse. One eye of Jenny kept peering under to see the edge but Driver Jack kept moving for the train must go on. The stench of left under wheels and hooves mulching in misstepped apprehension. The added stress of the long deep ravine the flies the flies the ever present flies. One step more the wrong direction life is over for the leader of the Train. The Strain would be unbearable for most lessor men of lessor stuff. Crack went the whipped Crack went the wheel suddenly snapped the axle gone the whole precarious wagon was leaning to the left hangging over the edge peering down into the desert abyss. Jenny took the falter left the edge with wagon Jack grabbed the harness went down with his ship. He was screaming but the distance soon made it unheard to the others they had stopped and there they stayed until they learned something of the outcome. The wagon landed in a miricle the mule was under Jack they sort of collided like worlds gone mad. He pulled his hand from harness where he had twisted it to stay forever thinking that at least he would have the mule up there in Heaven. Gideon would have been proud of the bray of that Mule Jenny. He unhooked her from her burden and together they walked back up to that Train. At least he would not go threw that again. The Mueller Train.