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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Bullwhip Bob settled in the cafe and ordered fried spuds and beef. A railroad man in Bingham’s Town, he came here each noon to eat. He’d gotten his name not for his job, but because each and every day, he went about his job with a whip coiled high up upon his waist. Nobody had ever seen it used, but the message it sent was clear, luckily Bob was the amiable type with little need to inspire fear. But behind him there rose a ruckus out in the town’s only street, Geena was chasing Big Tom Roth, accusing him of dastardly deeds. “You stole my money for medicine!” Geena cried out in despair. “My sister’s sick, your heatless thug, stop walking and give it here!” Big Tom did stop, and hollered at her: “Back off it you value your life! I ain’t got nothing to give to you except for this here knife!” Bob frowned, stepped to the street and uncoiled his long whip. His heart pounded in his chest, he said,”Bob, that’s enough of this!” Tom had twenty pounds on Bob, but fear came to his eyes. He took one look at the long whip, then dug a pocket on his side. He removed a pouch of coins and tossed it on the ground, then he stormed off grumbling, stomping his way out of town. Geena picked up her coin-pouch, and kissed Bob on the cheek, Bob went red because on Geena he had always been sweet. She hurried off as Bob slowly coiled the whip up on his belt, hoping against greatest hopes that she knew how he felt. He’d put himself at risk for her, he’d done what he felt right. He didn’t want to image if Bob had chosen to start a fight. For though he carried the great whip, to look all intimidating, he didn’t have the slightest idea how to use the gol-darn’d thing.
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