The Day Tonto Got Axed

WC 500

The Day Tonto Got Axed

By Jack Rawlins

“Tonto, I’m going to have to let you go.”

“Why, Kemosabe?”

“Come. Sit by the fire while I tell you.

“I know what Kemosabe really means. Behind that poker face you’ve been laughing your breechcloth off and yanking my saddle cinch every time you say it. Friend, my ass. I know Kemosabe means asshole, but I’ve gone along with the gag because--well hell, I could never get a woman to sleep out here with me.”

"Hi-yo, Mr. Masked man! You’ve made fun of me ever since you sent me to get the posse and I brought back two whores. You said, ‘I said bring the posse, not the pus.... Oh buffalo shit. Who cares?”

“That’s another thing, Tonto--- you can’t take a joke.”

”Ha! Can’t take a joke? I live with one. That stupid mask. Silver bullets. A white horse. No visible means of support. No wonder they kicked you and your ego out of the Rangers.”

“I wasn’t kicked out. I resigned.”

“Yeah, sure. Next thing folks know: Bang! Bang! And you
come thundering out of the West with your hearty big-ass scam.”

“Same old Tonto. I thought when you got back from Carlisle Indian School you would’ve changed. Well, I’ve put up with you and your sinful syntax as long as I can. Damn it, it’s ‘giddy-up Scout,’ not ‘gettem-up Scout.’ It’s’ I’ll get it,’ not ‘me get em.’ It’s ‘hello,’ not ‘how.’ It’s ‘posse’ not—“

“My syntax bothers you? You know what bothers me? What people think. No wonder folks talk about us; Two guys shacked up in the woods. And that bit about your ‘faithful companion.’ That raises eyebrows down at Miss Titty’s Saloon. There’s even a nasty rumor about Silver and Scout.

“Look, we don’t get paid. We don’t get laid. I’m tired of fighting for law and order.
I’m tired of sleeping on the ground. I’m tired of pooping on the prairie with the wind blowing up my butt and wiping my ass with grass. I’m tired of riding off into the sunset. I want to ride off into town where there’s action.”

“‘Why don’t you go back to your people?”


“I’ve got reservations about going back to the reservation without reservations. There might be no room in the tepee. But I have other options.

"I’m gonna look up every rancher who ever asked, ‘Who was that masked man?’ I’m gonna tell him the truth: ‘That was Izzy Swartz, a con artist and ticket scalper from Brooklyn, NY. He came west looking to score big with rich ranchers’ widows. If he shows up again--shoot him.’

“So your scam is over. I’m outta here. Zorro is looking for help. He’s got a mask, a cape, a bullwhip and a sword; but he needs help to make his mark. His printing is terrible. . .has trouble with his Zs.”


“Tonto, why must you keep sharpening your knife while we talk?”

“I’m gonna give you a haircut before I leave--Kemosabe."

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