This is a story about old Slim Coyote, who lived out on a ranch somewhere in Texas where it was peaceful and quiet. Slim Coyote couldn’t understand why the whole world wasn’t as peaceful as the ranch. In fact, he thought so much about this that he decided he could do something to make the whole world a better place. At the same time, he would make himself a hero, like his grandfather, who had been a famous sheriff.

He opened up an old trunk and took out his grandfather’s uniform. He dressed up like the old sheriff, with a badge and a hat, and strapped on a pair of six-shooters. He then climbed on his bony old mare, Rocksie, and went looking for his friend Pancho, who lived down the road. Pancho laughed when he saw his friend dressed like the old sheriff, but Slim Coyote didn’t seem to mind.

“How would you like to be a hero and go on many adventures with me, Pancho?” asked Slim Coyote.

“I sure would, amigo,” answered Pancho.

“Well,” said Slim Coyote, “get your horse and follow me: we’re off to get rid of the evil we see.” And off they went.

It wasn’t long before they came to a big, wide-open prairie. Slim Coyote suddenly stopped and shouted, “Look, Pancho. Look at all the giants out there!”

“What giants?” asked Pancho. “All I see are big oil wells.”

But Slim Coyote didn’t listen. “You’re foolish, Pancho,” he said. “They are giants and I am going to fight them.” And on his bony old horse, he charged straight ahead at he oil wells. He pulled out his six-shooters and started firing. But as he reached the first oil well, the noise from the pump frightened Rocksie. She reared up and slipped into a big puddle of black oil, carrying old Slim Coyote with her to the ground.

Pancho came running up. “I told you they were oil wells,” he said.

“No, they were not oil wells. They were changed into oil wells by some kind of magic,” declared Slim Coyote.

They moved on. The next day they came to another wide-open prairie, where there was a large building.

“Look!” said Slim Coyote. “What a strange-looking building, with walls and towers all around.”

“Oh,” said Pancho, “that’s the state penitentiary. It’s a prison where they keep bad people.”

“No,” said Slim Coyote. “It’s not a prison. It is a castle, and the enemy is on the inside. We must attack them at once.” He drew his six-shooters and charged forward on the old horse.

A high wire fence stood around the penitentiary. Rocksie could not see it, because her eyes were not so good. She galloped straight into the fence, throwing Slim Coyote up into the air and down to the ground.

Pancho came running. “Are you all right, amigo?” he inquired.

Slim Coyote didn’t move. Pancho took the scarf from around his neck and poured water from his canteen onto it. He placed the wet cloth on Slim Coyote’s head. The old make-believe sheriff slowly woke up and began to groan. “Oh,” he said, “I think I am dying, Pancho.”

“No, amigo,” replied Pancho, “you are not dying. You have only fainted.”

“But my brain is melting.” Said Slim Coyote. “I feel it dripping down my face.”

“No,” replied Pancho, “your brain is not melting. That is water I put on your head.”

There was a sudden pause. Slim Coyote slowly looked up at his friend and softly whispered, “I guess I am just a silly old fool dressed in someone else’s clothes, trying to be somebody I’m not.”

Pancho smiled. “Amigo,” he said, “you have just learned a very important thing. What someone wears on the outside is not very important. It’s the good inside his heart that counts.”

Slim Coyote nodded his head and said, “You’re right, Pancho. Let’s stop pretending and just be ourselves again.”

They both smiled and headed home.