There was one thing in life about which Kid Curry was certain. If he lived to be a hundred he would never figure out what had made him leave Heyes in the saloon that night and go back to the hotel alone.
Sure, he was dog-tired; they had spent three long, hot, hard days in the saddle on the trail from Red Rock but that was no reason for him to stop watching his partner's back, especially in a lawless town like Barrenbrook. He had to admit there had been the odd occasion in the past when he had been tempted away from his place at the bar by a pretty saloon girl suggesting that they go up to her room for a little fun, but he very rarely left if his partner was winning at poker.
And that night his partner was winning...
Hannibal Heyes laid down his three jacks with a smile and an airy, but insincere, apology before scooping up yet another winning pot. He glanced around the table and noted a couple of the other players shaking their heads and grumbling about 'lucky cards' but Heyes was sure it was all fairly good natured. Nobody, at this table anyway, looked like they were out to make trouble.
Although he had started out with a modest stake, a combination of most of what was in both his and the Kid's pockets, the pile of coins and paper money on the table in front of him had grown considerably in the time they had spent in the Golden Bell Saloon.
It had been well over an hour since the Kid had tapped him on the shoulder and murmured something about turning in. Heyes had been a little surprised but he didn't mind. In a low stakes game like this where he didn't have to concentrate too hard he knew his instincts would warn him if someone was going to accuse him of cheating, giving him time to leave the game before it turned nasty. However, if the stakes were high and the cards needed his full concentration, it was then that he really needed the Kid to watch his back.
Heyes had nodded to his partner in reply but felt tempted to stay a bit longer. The players in Barrenbrook weren't bad, it was just that tonight the cards were running in his favour and the money he could win here would mean that they wouldn't have to look for work for a couple of weeks.
An hour or two ticked by and gradually the crowd in the saloon began to thin. Having lost two players from the table already, mostly due to Heyes taking a good portion of their stake, the former outlaw leader figured that the pots would now be relatively small and not worth him missing his sleep for, so he decided it was time to call it a night.
Stepping out from the fuggy atmosphere of the saloon Heyes relished each breath of the cool night air as he strolled down the virtually deserted main street back toward the hotel. A small lantern had been lit and hung outside the front of the building making the entrance clearly visible in the darkness, but it shed very little light onto the street itself.
Ever since the Kid had left the saloon Heyes had made sure that the retaining loop on his holster was detached from his Shofield and he checked it again now. He also purposely avoided walking too close to the buildings just in case anyone might be lying in wait down one of the alleyways intent on robbing him of his winnings.
The former leader of the Devil's Hole Gang was halfway down the street when a cry from the opposite boardwalk drew his attention. He reached for his gun. Before he could draw, something hard hit him on the back of the head, a bright white light flashed before eyes and his world faded to black.
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
Sleepy blue eyes opened reluctantly and squinted at the sunlight streaming through the gap in the bedroom curtains. Kid Curry yawned and stretched his arms above his head enjoying the comfort of a real, if slightly lumpy, mattress. It was nice to be able to sleep late for a change. He could get used to not having to start his day at the crack of dawn, tending to the horses or cooking breakfast. I wonder what time Heyes left that poker game, he thought, turning over to face his cousin's bed.
Kid sat up abruptly as he stared at a bed that hadn't been slept in. Now he thought about it, he didn't recall having been woken up by the striking of a match as Heyes lit the lamp, or by the thud of each boot as it was dropped to the floor.
Swinging his legs out of bed Kid walked over to the wash stand and hurriedly splashed some cold water over his face. While silver droplets dripped from the blond curls on his forehead his eyes searched the room eventually coming to rest on Heyes' saddlebags on the floor by the dresser, exactly where he had left them yesterday, alongside his bedroll and old grey coat.
Minutes later Kid Curry was dressed and on his way down the stairs. He stopped at the unattended front desk and thumped the brass bell on the countertop several times. The bell went unanswered. Swallowing his irritation he turned on his heel, crossed the hotel lobby, and stepped out onto the boardwalk. Adjusting his hat to shade his eyes from the bright sunlight he stood for a moment and looked up and down the street wondering where to begin.
Barrenbrook had once been a sleepy little town but, due to its location near the border of Texas and New Mexico and since the advent of regular cattle drives, it had grown considerably. Business was booming and the town was often full of cowpunchers passing to and from the Texas cattle trails. To date there were seven saloons, three brothels, two hotels, eight boarding houses, two livery stables, a smattering of shops and cafes, and a large general store. The only thing Barrenbrook lacked was a sheriff's office. This fact had played a large part in drawing Heyes and Curry to the town because it meant they could relax a little without the need to look over their shoulders for anyone wearing a tin star.
Kid decided to start his search at the livery stable. Even as he approached the corral he could plainly see his partner's sorrel mare standing next to his own black gelding. A wide blaze together with her long white stockings made her easily visible among all the other horses. Well, at least I know Heyes hasn't just up and rode out of town, he thought.
His next stop was the last place he had seen Heyes, the Golden Bell Saloon. As he walked in off the street he could see that the place was almost empty; it was still a little early for many people to be drinking, even for this kind of town.
"Mornin'," he called to the bartender as he sauntered up to the bar. "Got any coffee?"
"Sure." The bartender retrieved the coffee pot and filled a cup with the steaming liquid.
The quality of the coffee was a pleasant surprise. Kid had expected it to be more like the dark brown swill that Heyes subjected him to most mornings, and he took a few appreciative swallows.
"Any trouble in here last night?" he asked, leaning casually on the stained and glass-ringed mahogany bar.
The bartender didn't bother to look up from the glass he was polishing. "Nope."
"Throw anyone outta here when you closed up?"
"Nope."
"Anyone pass out on one of the tables?" Heyes rarely got tipsy, let alone blind drunk, especially while he was playing poker but Kid felt he had to ask.
"Nope. Most nights we get a couple of fellas who can't hold their liquor but not last night." The bartender looked up and frowned. "Why you askin'? You missin' someone?"
"You could say that."
"What he look like? I got a real good memory for faces."
"Oh, 'bout my height. Brown hair and eyes. He was wearin' a black hat and a light blue shirt with tan pants. Last time I saw him he was playin' poker right over there," Kid jerked his thumb toward a table several feet away.
The bartender stared up at the ceiling while he tried to recall last night's patrons. "Fella with a big smile?"
"Could be." Kid was encouraged.
"Good player. Cleaned out a couple of my regulars," the man added with a chuckle.
Curry groaned inwardly at this news. Now he would have to check all the alleyways in case someone had decided to get their money back with their fists or a bullet rather than at the poker table.
"He must have left...oh...'round about one a.m."
"Thanks, mister." Kid touched the brim of his hat with his index finger, placed a coin on the bar next to his empty coffee cup and headed out onto the street once more.
Next, he began a systematic search of all the alleys that joined the main street making enquiries in the other saloons on the way, but with no luck.
Standing with his hands on his hips wondering where to look next his eyes alighted on a large sign at the far end of an intersecting side street which simply said 'Brothel'. Kid shrugged his shoulders. Heyes didn't make a habit of frequenting cat-houses, especially in rough towns such as this, but it was worth a try.
As he approached the building with the sign on it Kid noticed two similar establishments nearby. He knocked on the door of the first one, feeling a little self-conscious doing so in broad daylight.
The door was eventually opened by a woman in her mid-forties clutching a brightly-coloured, embroidered silk robe around her ample bosom. Despite being a little bleary-eyed she looked him up and down, her eyes eventually coming to rest on or about the tan gloves which were tucked under the buckle of his low-slung gun belt. She smiled appreciatively.
"You're keen ain't ya cowboy? 'Fraid all m' girls will be sleepin' 'til noon."
"I'm not here on business, ma'am." Kid felt himself blush slightly under her brazen scrutiny. "I'm just lookin' for my friend."
"We don't let customers stay the night," stated the brothel's landlady. "We'd be right unpopular with the hotels if we did."
"I know that, ma'am, but could you just check that he ain't still here?"
The woman gave him an irritated look. Kid Curry reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a few silver coins. He held up two.
The coins were hastily plucked from his fingers. "Is he dark or blond?"
"Dark."
"I'll go take a look. C'mon in." She held the door open.
"Er, no thank you ma'am, I'll just wait here if it's all the same to you."
"Suit yourself." The woman shrugged and disappeared inside. Kid realized that he would only have her word that she had looked in all the rooms but he figured he would just have to take it.
A few minutes later the landlady reappeared. "Just like I said. No one here besides m' girls."
"Thank you for looking, ma'am." Kid tipped his hat politely as he turned to go.
"Hope we'll be seein' you later," she called after him. "Good lookin' fella like you will have m' girls fallin' over each other to entertain you."
The blond ex-outlaw shook his head and smiled to himself. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened.
His enquiries at the other two brothels followed a similar pattern.
As he retraced his steps back to the hotel to see whether Heyes had returned in his absence, Kid even stopped at the bath house although he knew it was probably a long shot. The water in the big metal drum at the rear of the building wouldn't be nearly hot enough this early in the day so it was highly unlikely he would find him soaking in a tub.
Kid Curry's brows were beginning to knit together with worry. Entering the hotel lobby he noticed that the desk clerk was now present.
"Did you see what time my partner came in last night?" he asked. Then, noticing the puzzled look on the man's face, he added, "Room number four."
"Came in late, did he?"
"Dunno. That's why I'm askin'."
"Don't recall anyone coming in after about eleven o'clock, mister," was the unhelpful reply.
"You wouldn't happen to have been asleep back there in the office by any chance, would ya?" Curry said tartly, giving the man a steely look before taking the stairs two at a time.
Sitting down on the edge of his cousin's undisturbed bed Kid tossed his hat onto the dresser and flopped onto his back with a groan. Where the hell was Heyes? They always made sure to tell each other where they were going and what they were doing. Being worth ten thousand dollars apiece, dead or alive, made you careful — and Heyes was nothing if not careful.
He mentally checked off where he had looked so far; saloons, brothels, livery, bath house, alleyways. Okay, he thought, I'll try the stores next and the cafés. At the thought of a place to eat his empty stomach decided to make its feelings known and gave a loud rumble. Kid had been so caught up with searching for his partner that he hadn't even given breakfast a thought.
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
Kid Curry dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter as he leaned back in his chair and looked with dismay at the remains of his half-eaten breakfast. Taking one last mouthful of coffee he stood and walked over to the door where he grabbed his hat from the line of hooks on the wall and let himself out onto the boardwalk.
It was now late morning and Barrenbrook had finally come to life. People were going about their daily business and calling out greetings to one another. Shopkeepers washed windows while others swept the ever-present dust away from shop doorways. Wagons and buckboards rolled down the main thoroughfare adding to the noise and dust while others unloaded their cargo indiscriminately, often partially blocking the street. A couple of dogs ran among the horses, sometimes snapping at the heels of one or two and provoking a stream of colourful abuse from their drivers.
The increase in horse traffic meant that Kid made sure to look where he was walking in order to avoid the piles of fresh manure as he crossed the street on his way to the general store. A bell tinkled above his head as he pushed open the door. Despite the activity outside, the store was relatively quiet so he did not have to wait long before he got the proprietor's attention.
"Howdy, mister," the man addressed the ex-outlaw, genially. "What can I get for you today?"
For a moment Curry hesitated wondering whether he should make a purchase first but, since Heyes had taken most of his money to enhance his poker stake, his funds were limited. Therefore, buying an item in each of the shops on the street just to ask if they had seen his cousin was out of the question.
As Kid explained his problem and described his partner the shopkeeper's smile faded.
"So you're not buying anything?" he asked, tight lipped.
Kid's blue eyes blinked innocently. "Wasn't planning to right now, no."
"Well, this here's a store, mister, and a store is for selling things. That goes for information too."
Neither man heard the door at the rear of the shop open and close again.
Briefly, Kid gazed at the floorboards at his feet. When he looked up his eyes held a glint of ice and his right hand brushed close by his holster on its way to rest on his hip. The man took a step backwards.
Rubbing his suddenly sweaty palms on his apron the shopkeeper swallowed hard as he forced a smile. "But. . .er. . . just for today. . . information is free." He cleared his throat. "I ain't seen anyone matching that description this morning. . .or last night. . .and we were open 'til late."
"And you wanted money to tell me that?" Kid made no attempt to keep the trace of menace from his voice. "Sheesh!"
With a shake of his head he left the shop leaving the proprietor dabbing at the perspiration on his brow with the corner of his apron.
Kid had only taken a few long-legged strides down the boardwalk when a young boy, wearing a shop apron which was almost trailing on the ground, raced up from behind him and blocked his path. His abrupt halt in the middle of the boardwalk caused a few people to tut and grumble as they had to step out of the way to avoid bumping into him.
"I heard you in the store, mister," the boy said, slightly breathless. "That man you was askin' about...was he wearin' this hat?" The boy held out a beaten up, black hat with a brown band decorated with silver conchos.
Curry ushered the boy to one side as he took the hat.
"That's his alright. Have you seen him?"
"Uh huh."
"When?"
"Last night. Y' see, I work in the general store. We was open late, and when we stay open late I bunk in the store 'stead of goin' home. Well, somethin' woke me up and when I looked out the window I saw them."
"Them?"
"Yeah." The boy nodded eagerly. "The men that took the man who was wearing this hat."
Seizing the boy by the shoulders Kid bent forward to look him directly in the face. "Took?! Tell me exactly what you saw."
"I didn't see much, mister, it was kinda dark," the boy replied, trying to pull away from Kid's grip. "But I did see one of them hit him from behind. Musta knocked him right out - he hit the dirt real hard. I'd shouted out, tried to warn him 'cause I saw the man comin' out of the alley but I guess I weren't fast enough."
"Which alley was it?"
The boy pointed to the opposite side of the street where there was a narrow gap between the buildings.
"What else? Did you see anything else?"
The boy nodded. "Yessir." He pointed to an intersecting street. "They was real quick bringin' the buckboard round that corner. Then they just threw him on it and headed outta town, that way." His arm swung round to indicate north. "Headed out in the direction of Benning, I guess."
Kid tried to ignore the uncomfortable tightening sensation in his chest as he asked, "How many men?"
"Two."
"Were they both riding on the buckboard?"
The boy nodded.
"You've been a real help, son. Thank you." Curry did his best to find a smile as he dipped into his vest pocket and handed the boy his remaining silver coins.
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
Kid Curry pushed his hat to the back of his head as he crouched down in the side street and traced the wheel marks in the dirt with a gloved hand. If the boy from the store was right then there had, by some miracle, only been one wagon down here in quite a while. He studied the ground. Numerous footprints added to the mix but, among the confusion of tracks he could just discern two large notches on one of the iron wheel rims. Well, if this is the wagon, he thought, I may just have a chance of picking up its tracks.
A short time later Kid had checked out of the hotel and was saddling up his horse along with Heyes' sorrel. He wound the stampede strings of Heyes' hat around the saddle horn and, holding the sorrel's reins he mounted up and headed out of Barrenbrook in the direction the boy had indicated. Taking Heyes' horse with him was a risk as it would slow him down but Kid knew that if they needed to make a quick getaway they would be better off with a horse each. Past experience had proven that riding double could be risky at the best of times, more so if people happened to be chasing you — or shooting at you — or, as happened to them all too frequently, doing both.
A little way past the outskirts of Barrenbrook he dismounted and looked carefully at the ground. There were a lot of tracks still, all overlapping and scuffed over, so he vaulted back into his saddle and nudged his horse into a jog, all the while watching the ground for signs of the damaged wagon wheel.
The sun was sinking toward the western horizon and Kid was just starting to think he might have missed something when he came to a fork in the trail. Jumping from his horse once again he examined the dirt beneath his feet and walked a little way up the westward fork. That was when he saw it; a wheel track with two notches. Curiously, it appeared that there were two horses closely following the wagon. He guessed the boy had been mistaken - it looked like there could be four of them, at least.
Curry grinned. "I knew I'd find ya," he said out loud while hoping against hope that these tracks would ultimately lead him to Heyes. "C'mon, fella," he said to his gelding as he swung back up into the saddle. "Let's see if we can make up some ground before it gets dark."
Clicking his tongue to the horse on the lead rein Kid stayed at a steady lope so that he could still keep an eye on the tracks from time to time. This trail was not very well travelled which made his task a little easier.
Another hour passed and with sunset fast approaching he was finding it difficult to see clearly in the fading light. Despite his desperation to catch up with the men who had taken Heyes, the last thing he wanted was to stray from the trail in the dark and lose valuable time, so he decided it would be best if he stopped for the night and pick it up again at first light.
Looking up from the dusty road Kid spied a farm up ahead silhouetted against the ochre sky. He leant on his saddle horn while he considered his options. Although he knew that someone leading a saddled, but riderless, horse complete with saddlebags and bedroll was probably going to raise peoples' suspicions and could mean him having to answer a lot of questions, the thought of bedding down on soft hay in a barn was preferable to the hard ground any day.
Ten minutes later he rode into the farmyard.
Kid's boots had only just touched the ground when the front door of the small farmhouse was flung open and a tall, thin man with steel-grey hair and a bristly horseshoe moustache strode onto the porch. In his hands he held a double-barrelled shotgun and it was aimed right at him.
"What's your business here?" the man demanded.
Kid raised his hands in the air, his eyes never wavering from the shotgun. He hoped that the man hadn't noticed his low-slung holster; it had a habit of making some folk a little jumpy.
"Don't shoot, mister. I'm not here to cause any trouble. Just looking to bed down some place for the night, that's all. Was wonderin' if I could use your barn?"
Ignoring the question the man asked one of his own.
"Why ya leadin' that horse?"
"It's my friend's horse. I'm taking it to him."
Faded hazel eyes narrowed with suspicion. "He ain't just hidin' back along the trail?"
"No, sir. 'Cause if he was, I'd have made sure to leave the horse there with him," Kid replied, stifling a wry smile.
Just then there was a movement behind the man and a small, plump, grey-haired woman bustled through the door busily wiping her hands on her apron.
"Now Bert, don't you be greeting visitors that way." She looked at the blue-eyed cowboy and smiled. He was the least threatening person they had seen in a long while. "You can put your hands down, young man."
"Er, beggin' your pardon ma'am but I don't think I will. Not while those two barrels are still pointin' my way."
"Bert!"
Bert frowned as he reluctantly lowered the shotgun. "You know how it is, Ida. Can't be too careful."
Ida patted her husband's arm affectionately. "I know."
Curry let out a slow breath and lowered his hands then, remembering his manners, he removed his hat.
"My name's Thaddeus Jones and all I'm askin' is if I can bed down in your barn for the night. I'll be gone at first light."
"I'm sure you can do that, can't he Bert?" Ida smiled sweetly at her glowering husband.
"Humph! Those dang horses better not eat my grain," grumbled Bert.
"Oh, I got my own supply right here," Kid said patting the small sack of feed which hung next to his saddle bags.
Bert considered this. "Well, I guess it'd be alright. Use the big barn. You make sure and be gone by mornin' y' hear."
"Yessir." Kid Curry nodded. "Much obliged," he added, as he replaced his hat and turned both horses toward the barn.
Dust hung thickly in the still air as Kid routinely brushed down the two horses; the sun had all but disappeared and he didn't have a lantern but he was so used to tending to their horses after dark that he hardly noticed.
Realizing that in his haste to find his partner he had left town without replenishing their supplies Kid was wondering what he might find to eat in either his or Heyes' saddlebags when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. With a fraction of a second to spare he stopped himself from drawing his Colt. Instead he looked casually over his shoulder to see Bert standing in the open doorway holding a lantern.
The man pointed. "Feed's over there in that sack."
"Like I said, I got—"
"Pump's out back. You'll find a spare bucket there too."
Kid smiled. "Thanks."
Bert placed the lantern on the ground by the door and cleared his throat. "Er. . .Ida says. . .will you come and take supper with us?"
"Well, that's right friendly of you. Mister. . .?"
"Beck."
"It looks like I've got more feed for my horse than I've got for me in these saddlebags so a home-cooked meal would sure be a real treat, thank you."
Bert Beck nodded curtly. "It'll be on the table in ten minutes. Wouldn't advise y' to be late."
"No, sir. I'll be right there, Mister Beck."
Kid ducked his head and smiled to himself. He knew exactly what Bert meant. Having Ida clucking around was probably much the same as having Heyes issuing orders whenever they made camp. Sometimes it was as if his partner still thought he was leading the Devil's Hole Gang.
Thinking about their usual routine made Kid more aware of how worried he was about Heyes and he hastily pushed away the unwelcome question of what he would do if he did not find him.
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
Kid swallowed his last mouthful of apple pie and gave a satisfied sigh.
"That sure was good, ma'am. Thank you." His aborted breakfast and lack of lunch had ensured his usual keen appetite was back in time for supper.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Mister Jones. It's not often we have company for supper these days, is it Bert?"
"Not since all the decent folk moved away and Barrenbrook turned into a den of iniquity. We get all kinds of no-goods round these parts now," griped Bert.
Kid wasn't exactly sure what 'iniquity' meant but he got the general idea.
"How long have you folks been here?" he asked.
"Since the end of the war," Bert replied. "It was a peaceable place then, quiet after all the fightin' back east; not full of drunken cowhands and lawlessness like it is these days. We made a good livin' supplyin' the town with poultry and eggs, but over the last couple of years disease has taken a goodly number of our birds."
Kid glanced dubiously at the virtually clean chicken bones on his plate. Ida noted the look and laughed.
"Don't worry Mister Jones, we don't eat the sick ones."
Kid smiled gratefully.
"We still manage to make enough of a livin' though," concluded Bert.
Kid shook his head. "There's a lot of people strugglin', Mister Beck. My friend Joshua and me we travel around a lot and we hear about hardships all over."
Ida changed the subject. "What brings you to these parts, Mister Jones," she asked. "You don't have the look of a regular cowhand. You a lawman by any chance?" Her eyes strayed momentarily to Kid's shiny six-gun.
Kid gave a chuckle. "No ma'am, I'm not a lawman. Neither is my friend. We take on most kinds of work so long as it ain't too hard on the back. Or illegal, of course," Kid added a little too quickly.
At the mention of Heyes Bert was once again on his guard. "This friend of yours, where is he?"
"I don't rightly know, sir," replied Kid, honestly. "I think someone took him; that's why I have his horse with me. And I think the fellas who took him came this way."
"Why would someone want to take your friend?" asked Ida.
"You'd best not be bringin' trouble to our door, son, 'cause if you are then you can be on your way right now." Bert placed both his hands on the edge of the table and was about to stand when Ida once again laid a placating hand on his arm.
"Oh, I'm not in any trouble," Kid hastily reassured him. "But Joshua might be. That's why I have to find him. You see, he likes to play poker - he's real good at it - but some folk, well. . .they don't take too kindly to how much he wins and there are times when that can get him into trouble."
"He some kinda card sharp?"
"Oh no, sir. He plays honest cards."
"What makes you think whoever took him came this way?" asked Bert.
"I was following some tracks and they turned down the road that runs past your farm. How far is it to the nearest town, Mister Beck?"
"Well, Benning is the biggest town near here. It's about forty miles away but there is a smaller one. Woodford. It's closer, if you head due west."
"Er, do either of them have a sheriff's office?" Kid asked, somewhat reluctantly. He had a feeling that, as there was no sheriff in Barrenbrook, whoever had taken Heyes might be looking to turn him in to the nearest one for the reward.
"Both of them do, why? You dodgin' the law? 'Cause if y' are you can—"
"I just wanna report my friend as missin'," Kid replied quickly. "Like I said, I ain't here to cause you any trouble."
"Now Bert!" chided Ida. "Mister Jones had already said he doesn't do anything illegal."
If Kid Curry was honest and, after all, that's what he was trying to be these days, he would have to admit that there were times when he and Heyes had trouble figuring out exactly which side of the law they were on. It was over a year now since Lom Trevors had spoken to the Governor of Wyoming about the amnesty and, although they had stopped robbing banks and trains, they were still dodging sheriffs and still being chased by posses.
Kid was trying his best not to act like an outlaw any more but most of the time he still felt like one.
Bert smiled sheepishly and extended his hand. "Sorry, Mister Jones." Kid shook Bert's hand warmly and the older man looked a little embarrassed. "Guess I'm a might jumpy these days what with all the goin's on in Barrenbrook. That outlaw gang don't help neither."
"An outlaw gang? In these parts?"
"Yes, they held up the railroad — about a month ago, it was." Ida stood up and went over to the dresser where she opened a drawer and pulled out a well thumbed newspaper.
"It says here it was the Wheeler Brothers," she said. "Awful business. They went through the train threatening everyone with their guns, women and children too. Took anything of value and if anyone objected...well, see for yourself." She handed the paper to Kid and pointed to the front page.
Kid read the article with mounting concern. 'Crazy' Joe Wheeler. It was a good few years since he had heard that name and he wondered which one of his three, only slightly less crazy, brothers was riding with him these days.
When he had finished reading Kid Curry dropped the newspaper onto the kitchen table with a frown. He hoped that Wheeler had nothing to do with his cousin's disappearance because, if he did, then Heyes could be in big trouble.