Alias Sheriffs Smith and Jones? (fourth in series)

by Red O'Toole

Lom Trevors asks the boys as a favor to substitute as sheriffs in a quiet little town. What could possibly go wrong?

Alias Sheriff Smith and Sheriff Jones?

By Red O'Toole

Chapter One

Night had fully fallen over Porterville when the two riders entered the town. Most businesses had shuttered their windows and locked their doors; all but the saloons, whose busy hours had just begun. A few stragglers could be seen hurrying off to hearth and home, but mainly the street was deserted; nevertheless the men kept alert eyes constantly on the move - - from force of habit rather than need.

The light was on in the sheriff's office, as they knew it would be for many hours yet, and they guided their horses to the hitching rail in front and dismounted. They looped their reins around the rail and stretched muscles weary from several long days in the saddle.

"Let me make sure he's alone first," said the man in the dusty black hat. His partner nodded silently, keeping a wary eye open as the other walked quietly to the window and peered in.

A feeling of déjà vu stole over Hannibal Heyes as he looked through the window at his friend, Lom Trevors, doing paperwork at his desk. It had been something over two years ago when he had done the same thing, the night he and Kid Curry had come seeking amnesty. Though he knew Lom wasn't likely to arrest them tonight, still it was better to not chance being recognized and thus force his hand, because they were still wanted. He felt a sharp stab of angry frustration at the governor's foot dragging, but tamped it down ruthlessly. Satisfied that his friend was alone, Heyes gestured to Curry and moved to knock on the door.

"Come in," Trevors' voice replied.

The reformed outlaw still felt a twinge of queasiness upon voluntarily entering a sheriff's office, but this, too, he ignored and pushed the door open.

Lom looked up from his papers and his broad moustache lifted as he smiled and stood to welcome his visitors. "Heyes, Kid, come in, come in!"

"Howdy, Lom," Heyes extended his hand and the sheriff shook it heartily.

Curry did likewise although Lom held his grip a moment longer as he studied the gunman. "How ya doin', Kid? You were lookin' a mite poorly last I seen ya."

"Better, Lom, " Curry replied shortly. "I appreciate what you did - - riskin' your job an' all - - to help out."

"It was the least I could do, Kid, after all I felt pretty responsible for the whole situation. Sit down, boys, make yourselves comfortable. Coffee?"

"Coffee would be great, Lom, thanks."

"I'm glad you boys stopped by," Lom began as he scrounged cups and poured each of them a steaming cup of the black liquid.

"It ain't like we had much choice, Lom," Heyes replied wryly. "You practically ordered us to stop by when you left Devil's Hole. Besides we saw Wheat who told us you have a little something for us."

"Hmm? Oh, the reward! Yeah, that oughta be a big help with that ranch of yours."

"The question is how you convinced the army to give a reward to outlaws!"

"Well, that was simple really," the sheriff replied modestly. "Colonel Stone came himself to collect the prisoners and he was mighty grateful to have that payroll back safe an' sound so he was more than willing to give my posse a reward for their hard work and courage in putting themselves in harm's way doing what was really the army's responsibility. I saw no reason to tell 'im that my "posse" was really Hannibal Heyes, Kid Curry, an' the Devil's Hole gang!"

Heyes laughed as Curry said, "I see you ain't completely left outlawin' behind, Lom!"

Lom had the grace to look sheepish as he replied. "He didn't ask who was in my posse so I figgered he didn't need to know - - nothin' illegal there, Kid."

"Sure, you keep tellin' yourself that, Lom," Curry smiled. "Mind you, we ain't complainin', are we, Heyes?"

"No, that we ain't, Kid."

"Well, I got the money here in my safe. You want it now, or in the mornin'?

"The mornin' will do; Kid an' I have enough for what we need tonight. I think it's safe enough there - - who's gonna rob the sheriff's office after all?"

Lom snorted. "I wouldn't put anythin' past you, Heyes!"

"Maybe I should just to keep myself in practice," Heyes said thoughtfully, but with a twinkle in his eyes.

Ignoring him, Lom asked, "So where you boys headed next?"

"Well, we're startin' our swing back towards Coldwater - - we want to be there before winter sets in. We figger we'll keep workin' to increase our stake as we go, though."

"No particular stops in mind?"

Heyes' eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are you askin', Lom?"

"I thought maybe you could go by way of Coleville an' do me a little favor; it ain't much out of your way."

"What kind of favor?" Curry's instincts had also been put on alert.

"The sheriff there is a friend of mine. His wife has been taken sick and the doctor in Coleville can't help her - - says she needs to go to Cheyenne for treatment. He asked me if I knew anyone who could come be temporary sheriff while he's gone."

"An' you suggested us?" Curry gasped in shock.

"Lom, you ain't thinkin' straight!" Heyes exclaimed at the same time. "Have you considered how long he's gonna be your friend if he finds out you sent Hannibal Heyes an' Kid Curry to protect his town?"

"He won't cuz I'm sendin' Joshua Smith an' Thaddeus Jones."

"We don't know anythin' about bein' sheriffs, Lom," Curry protested.

"Who knows more about sheriffs than outlaws?" the lawman retorted. "Look, Coleville is a nice peaceful little town - - you shouldn't have any trouble - - just keep things runnin' smooth."

"That sounds a lot like what Big Mac told us about West Bend, don't it, Heyes?"

"Yeah, an' we know what happened there, don't we?" The brown eyes rolled at the memory.

"Think how good doin' a job like this'll look on your records with the governor," Lom wheedled.

Heyes snorted, his earlier frustration rising again. "I'm beginnin' t'think nothin's gonna satisfy the governor!"

"Now, Heyes, that ain't true - - the governor's very pleased with you two's progress."

"Just not enough t'risk his political career by givin' us amnesty!" Heyes' frustration drove him to his feet and he began to pace the office. "I'm gettin' sick of jumpin' through his hoops, Lom!"

"Be patient just a little longer, Heyes," Lom pleaded. "I'm pretty sure the governor's comin' around an' I'll start applyin' more pressure on your behalf."

Heyes ran his lean fingers through his dark hair and blew out his breath. "Okay, Lom, it just gets to me sometimes!"

"I understand, really," the lawman said sympathetically. "Will you do this favor for me?"

The two reformed outlaws exchanged a look that spoke volumes and Heyes said, "Do you mind if we sleep on it, Lom?"

"Sure, no problem!"

"Thanks, we'll give you our answer in the morning. We'll think better after baths, a good dinner, and maybe a half dozen drinks!"

"Enjoy yourselves, boys, an' I'll see you in the morning!"

With firm handshakes, Heyes and Curry left the office and made their way to the Porterville Hotel.

"I can't believe Lom's nerve askin' us to do 'im a favor after what we've just been through!" Heyes groused as he and Curry took their horses to the livery stable. "I mean - - don't we deserve a break?"

The Kid kept quiet, knowing his partner had to work it out.

"Of course," the dark-haired former outlaw continued thoughtfully as he absentmindedly paid the liveryman. "It wasn't Lom we was doin' a favor for. We were really helpin' ourselves an' the gang, but still we wouldn't've known about it if it hadn't been for Lom - - an' you wouldn't've gotten nearly killed, Kid!"

They walked side by side down the boardwalk, both silent for a moment. Then Heyes began again, "On the other hand, if he hadn't told us we'd've had the whole US Army after us an' us not knowin' why! Not to mention our shot at amnesty shot to hell!"

The lobby of the Porterville Hotel was deserted when they entered, except for the concierge behind the counter. They paid for a room with two beds and ordered up a bath, then trudged up the stairs.

Flinging saddlebags and bedroll onto a bed, Heyes continued, "Amnesty! Now there's a joke! I don't think the governor's ever gonna keep his promise! I think he's havin' a good laugh watchin' us try to stay out of trouble. I've half a mind to flatten 'im!"

Curry smiled slightly at the empty threat, knowing the situation would have to be dire for Heyes to resort to violence.

Heyes, as usual, won the coin toss and got the bath first. He lay back in the steaming water and continued speaking as if there'd been no break in his monologue. "An' like you said, Kid, we don't know anythin' about bein' sheriffs!"

He ducked under the water to wet his hair and then lathered up vigorously, ducking under again to rinse off, then yielded the tub to his partner while he toweled off. "Not to mention we'd hafta be in the public eye constantly, increasin' our chances of bein' recognized. What if some outlaw we know comes into town an' we hafta arrest 'im? How's that gonna look? We might wind up bein' chased by the law and by outlaws. Nah, Kid, it just ain't a good idea - - way too risky."

"Whatever you say, Heyes," Curry responded from under his cap of soapy curls.

"Good, we'll tell Lom in the mornin' an' be on our way."

Heyes seemed satisfied with this decision until they were served steaming plates of stew in the café. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he chewed. Curry knew that look only too well and dreaded what it might bode.

"Still," the former outlaw leader mused once his mouth was empty. "How hard can it be? Didn't we run a band of desperate outlaws? Shouldn't it be that much easier to maintain order amongst law abidin' citizens? An' it would look good on our records with the governor - - maybe even convince 'im to give us our amnesties."

"Uh, Heyes…" Curry began hesitantly.

"No, really, Kid," Heyes interrupted, his eyes alight with excitement. "This really might just do it! The governor will have to agree we've proved ourselves if we've actually helped enforce the law rather than just tryin' to stay on the right side of it!"

The blond gunslinger eyed his partner skeptically. "I dunno, Heyes, this don't sound like one of your better ideas."

"C'mon, Kid, what could go wrong?"

Blue eyes widened in astonishment. "A whole bunch of things, Heyes, several of 'em you just mentioned this evenin'!"

"Long shots all of 'em, Kid! I ain't sayin' it's gonna be a piece of cake, but I know we're up for the challenge!"

Challenge. There it was - - the reason for Heyes' excitement: a challenge. As a kid, Curry recalled, his friend had never been able to back down from a dare, often winning and losing in equal amounts. As the leader of the most successful gang of bank and train robbers ever, this trait had been what had gotten them that reputation. Any new fangled security, or the latest safe, had been seen by Heyes as a dare from the railroad barons and the bankers and he had risen to meet each challenge with glee. Seeing that spark in his friend's eyes now, Curry knew he had no chance of talking him out of it, so he just sighed heavily. He only said, "I hope you know what you're doin', Heyes."

"Of course I do, Kid! Don't I always have a plan?"

"That's what worries me, Heyes!"

Dark eyes dancing, Heyes laughed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You just keep worryin', Kid, an' I know everythin's gonna be all right! "C'mon, I'll buy you a drink!"

"Make it three so I'll be just drunk enough to believe you!"

Heyes laughed again and the two headed for the nearest saloon.

They slept late the next morning - - late for Heyes being an hour after the sun had risen - - and strolled unhurriedly to the café for breakfast, hoping to put off their meeting with Lom for an hour or two longer. To their chagrin, Lom sat at a table nursing a cup of coffee and hailed the boys as they entered the door.

"Mornin', boys! Sleep well?" he asked heartily as they sat.

"Fine, Lom, just fine," Curry replied, nodding his thanks to the waitress who had hurried up with two fresh cups of coffee.

The sheriff waited with barely concealed impatience while the two former outlaws ordered their meals, but as soon as the waitress bustled away, he asked, "So, did you give my proposal some thought?"

"It might have crossed my mind once or twice," Heyes hedged, the poker player in him not willing to reveal his full hand too soon.

"Hah!" Curry exclaimed. "He was like a flea-bitten dog scratchin' at it all night!"

Heyes tossed the younger man a dirty look and said, "Okay, so I thought about it a lot. I have a question or two before we make our final decision."

"Ask away."

"Don't your sheriff friend have a deputy to fill in for 'im while he's gone?"

"Bill's deputy recently got married and his new wife didn't like him bein' in such a dangerous job, so he quit an' bought a farm. The position hasn't been filled yet."

"Fair enough, but is Coleville populated only with women that he had to ask for replacements from outside?"

Lom looked down into his coffee cup silently for a moment. "I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you boys," he admitted.

"Why am I not surprised?" Heyes asked wryly.

"Oh, it's nothing serious - - not trouble really - - it's just that there's factions an' it's hard to find somebody that don't side with one or another of 'em. Bill figured it'd be better to bring in neutral parties from outside is all."

"Sounds like a feud," Curry put in. "You wouldn't be sendin' us into a feud would ya, Lom?"

"No, nothin' like that, Kid!" Lom hastened to say. "It's just that whoever Bill picks the others are gonna think he favors that group and it's a fine balancing act. He figures he might be able to find a suitable candidate while he's in Cheyenne."

"How long does Bill expect to be gone?"

"Two weeks."

Curry nearly choked on his mouthful of eggs and Heyes set his coffee cup down hard enough to make Lom fear for its breaking. The look the ex-outlaw leader turned on his lawman friend was the same that had made many a desperado quail. "Lom, if we do this the Kid an' I expect you to bring it to the governor's attention and put serious pressure on him about our amnesties; my patience is wearin' thin!"

"You've got my word on it, Heyes!" Lom smiled with relief, knowing they were going to accept.

"Your word I trust, it's the governor's I've got serious doubts about," Heyes growled.

"Why don't we go over to my office and discuss the details?"

Chapter Two

Two days hard riding later found the two trotting dusty and tired into Coleville. They headed straight for the sheriff's office, contrary to their usual habit, dismounted and secured their horses to the hitching rail. They made an attempt at brushing off the dust before entering the office.

Sheriff William Watkins looked up from his paperwork at the two trail worn strangers. "How can I help you?" he asked.

"I think we can help you," Heyes replied. "Lom Trevors sent us."

A smile lit the weathered features of the lawman and he stood, reaching his hand across the desk to shake first Heyes' and then Curry's hands. "Which of you is Joshua Smith an' which is Thaddeus Jones?"

"I'm Smith," Heyes informed him. "He's Jones."

"I got Lom's telegram that you'd be arrivin' either today or tomorrow. He recommends you both highly. Have you been sheriffs before?"

"Well, we was deputies once for a short time," Curry answered, hoping his discomfort didn't show on his face.

"Mostly our experience with the law has been in a semi-official capacity - - posses and such," Heyes stepped in smoothly, his silver tongue taking control of the situation. "We've also done some special projects for Lom over the years."

"Well, if he says you know your business then I'm gonna take his word for it - - he's never done me wrong so far!"

"We'll do our best not to let you - and Lom - down, sheriff," Curry assured him.

"No need to be so formal - - the name's Bill! I suppose you'd like to settle in an' get cleaned up?"

"That would be nice," Heyes admitted. "We ate a lot of dust t'get here in good time, knowin' y'needed t'get your wife to Cheyenne. How is she, may I ask?"

"She has her good days an' her bad days - - I sure hope the doctors in Cheyenne can help her!" He sighed and shook his head sadly. "But now for you boys! I've arranged a nice room at the hotel - - free of charge. I'll walk over with you an' introduce you to the proprietor."

"No need to put yourself out, Bill."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all!"

With inner sighs, the two followed the friendly sheriff outside.

"These your horses? Of course they are! Let me get someone to take them over to the livery stable for you." Before either could protest, Sheriff Watkins whistled and beckoned a young boy lounging near the general store.

The boy ran eagerly across the street, his bare feet raising puffs of dust as he came. He slid to a halt and asked breathlessly, "What can I do for you, sheriff?"

"Jimmy, I'd like you to meet Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones, they're gonna be the sheriffs while I'm off in Cheyenne and I want you to look after them just like you do me, all right?"

"You betcha, sheriff!" The boy turned to the former outlaws, dark, serious eyes looking at them from behind a shock of black, raggedly cut hair, and stuck out a scrawny hand, which they both shook. "Right pleased to make your acquaintances, Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones! I run errands for Sheriff Watkins so if'n there's anythin' I can do for you two you just be sure an' let me know!"

"We'll be sure and do that, Jimmy, thank you," Heyes replied, something about the boy striking him as oddly familiar, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"For now, Jimmy, take their horses to the livery stable and tell Otis to take extra special care of them, okay?" the sheriff ordered.

"Yes, sir!"

The boy made to untie the reins when Heyes stopped him saying, "Give us just a minute to get our gear off, please."

Saddlebags slung over shoulders, bedrolls under their arms, Heyes and Curry watched as Jimmy jogged off down the street, their horses in tow.

Seeing their curious looks, Bill explained, "Jimmy's an orphan. He and his ma came riding into town one night during a terrible storm. They was soaked through and their horse spent and she was practically delirious with fever. The doctor done what he could, but she was too far gone and died a couple of days later. Jimmy was about six years old then - - this was two years ago - - an' nobody was inclined to take 'im in and be responsible for 'im. We ain't got an orphan's home so Otis set 'im up a place in the stable an' everybody pretty much makes sure he gets fed an' clothed. In return he does odd jobs around town."

Curry's temper flared, but he masked it behind his poker face as he asked, "Why wouldn't anybody take him in?"

"His ma was Injun, or at least part; Jimmy don't look like a full blooded Injun. He don't know who his pa was and she was never able to do any talkin' before she died. I know it sounds coldhearted," the sheriff hurried on as he saw both of the other men's faces tighten with anger. "But he's comfortable, well fed, an' nobody treats 'im bad!"

When it looked like Curry was going to open his mouth, Heyes nudged him with his elbow and said to the sheriff, "Well, I'm sure you're doing what you can for him! How 'bout that room now?"

"Certainly! Right this way!" Relieved, Sheriff Watkins hustled them over to the hotel and introduced them to Stanley Kramer, the proprietor of the hotel.

"Your room will be number 12, upstairs and to your right," Stanley directed them. "It's one of the largest in the hotel and I hope you'll be comfortable!"

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Heyes assured him. "Could you arrange to have a bath sent up?"

"Most certainly!"

"Well, boys, when you're cleaned and rested up, come back by my office an' I'll show you around the town an' introduce you an' then go over procedures with you. Now you're here, I expect my wife an' I can take the mornin' stage tomorrow!"

Heyes and Curry acknowledged him and then took their key and trudged wearily up the stairs.

Heyes turned the key to their room and the door opened to a truly large room. Everything was doubled: two beds, two stands with lamps, two easy chairs, two sets of drawers with a mirror above, and two small writing desks. Cheery curtains covered the two windows.

"Not bad," Curry commented tossing his gear onto a bed and flopping tiredly onto its matching easy chair. "This might not be too bad after all."

"Huh!" grunted Heyes. "Did you notice how eager Sheriff Watkins is to get us settled so he can get out of town?"

"His wife is sick, Heyes!"

"I wonder if that's all it is, Kid."

"Don't tell me you got a bad feelin' about it, Heyes!" Curry groaned.

"Not a bad feelin', Kid, but a feelin'! We just better keep alert."

"We're the sheriffs, Heyes, it's our job to keep alert!" The blond gunslinger rolled his eyes.

"Okay, smart guy, you know what I mean!"

"Yeah, Heyes, I know, but I hope your feelin' is just a feelin' this time!"

"So do I, Kid, so do I."

A bath, a shave, and clean clothes went a long way to improving the former outlaws' outlook on their current situation - - Heyes even going so far as to say that maybe his feeling was half a product of weariness and the other half of hunger.

Jimmy was loitering in the lobby, studiously ignoring the concierge's black looks, when Heyes and Curry descended the stairs. The dark eyes brightened noticeably and a smile split his face. He scampered up to the two men and said, "I stayed an' helped Mr. Otis groom an' feed your horses, Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones! They got th'best stalls in th'stable, fresh straw an' a extra scoop o'grain!"

"That was good of you, Jimmy," Heyes praised the boy, again feeling the tug of familiarity that still eluded him.

"It weren't no trouble, Mr. Smith; I like horses!"

"Do you now?" The grin the outlaw returned was a gentle one.

"Oh, yes, sir, an' they like me, too!"

"I'm sure they do." He reached into his vest pocket, pulled out a shiny nickel and handed it to the boy.

Though his eyes widened to saucer-size at the sight of the bright coin, he hesitated, saying, "Oh, no, sir, Mr. Smith, ain't no call for you to be payin' me!"

"Nonsense! A man works, a man gets paid! Go on, take it!"

A calculating look of avarice crossed the boy's face as he perhaps tried to figure how much candy five cents could buy - - an expression all too familiar to both men, who exchanged amused looks. Jimmy stretched out his scrawny hand and snatched the coin from Heyes' extended hand. "Gee, thanks, Mr. Smith!" he breathed, closing his fingers around the nickel in a tight grip.

"You're welcome, Jimmy, see ya around."

The boy darted off into the street and the town's temporary sheriffs sauntered out of the hotel, unmoved by the disapproving glare of the concierge.

"D'ya get the feelin' he didn't like you givin' the kid money, Joshua?" Curry asked curiously as they paused to wait for a large wagon to lumber past.

Heyes shrugged and growled, "Yeah, well, I don't half like how this town is takin' care of the kid! How can there not be one family in town that would take him in? He's just a boy not a whole tribe on the warpath!"

"He don't seem unhappy," the blond replied. "I think maybe he's better off than we were in the Home."

"How so? They make 'im sleep in the stable!"

"He has his freedom, don't he?"

Opening his mouth to reply, Heyes immediately shut it again as the truth of what his partner had said hit him. Then he said, "I guess you're right - - hadn't looked at it that way," he said as they stepped into the street.

Sheriff Watkins was back at his desk when they reentered the office, causing Heyes to wonder how much sheriffing actually got done in Coleville.

"So, you boys all settled in? How's your room?" the sheriff bellowed heartily.

"The room's very comfortable, thank you - - can't remember when we've had one so fine," Heyes replied.

"Good! That's good! Well, let's get you sworn in then."

There followed several uncomfortable minutes has the two former notorious outlaws swore to uphold the same laws they had gloried in breaking all those years. Heyes looked down at the tin star shining so brightly against his dark blue shirt and felt a shiver traverse the length of his spine. He glanced aside to his partner and saw a similar look of dismay in the bright blue eyes that caught his gaze. A slight lift of a dark eyebrow served as a shrug and the new sheriffs turned their attention back to Sheriff Watkins.

"Wouldn't it be more common to swear us in as deputies, Bill?" Heyes was notorious for his curiosity as well as his safecracking abilities.

"Yeah, under normal circumstances, if I was just needin' short term help like for a posse or such. But seein's how I'm gonna be gone for two weeks or so I wanted t'make sure you two have all the authority to act in my place; I had t'get special approval from the mayor an' city council, who, by the way, have also agreed to pay you boys five dollars a day along with room an' board - - grudgingly I might add, they were inclined towards just room an' board. I convinced 'em nobody was gonna take the job for that."

"Generous of them," Heyes said, the irony heavy in his voice.

"Usually folks know what's right, but sometimes they need a little nudge in that direction."

The dark head nodded in agreement. "Thaddeus an' I have found that's pretty often the case."

"Sometimes somethin' a mite stronger than a nudge," Curry put in darkly.

"Well, they saw the light in the end an' I'm sure they'll come t'see it was worth it in the long run. Come on, I'll introduce you around."

Coleville was a typical Western town with one main street of hard packed dirt, which was lined on either side with the various businesses that provided the goods and services the people couldn't provide for themselves. There was the general store, a bank, a saloon, a hotel, the livery stable and blacksmith, a farmer's feed, seed, and tool supply store, a restaurant, a leather goods and repair shop, a gunsmith, a bath house, a barber, a doctor, a seamstress, a telegraph office, a stage depot, a church, a school, and last, but not least, city hall.

"It looks like you have a nice little town here, Bill," Curry commented.

"Yeah, we're pretty proud of it. Now, I usually make rounds four times a day - - first thing in the morning, midday, sundown, and just before retiring for the night. Of course I'm on call all night if needs be - - one of the disadvantages of bein' a doctor or a lawman."

"I guess every job has its little problems," Heyes commented.

"Some more than others," the sheriff retorted. "Why anyone would be an outlaw, for example, is beyond me - - what with bein' chased by posses, rough livin', and prison or a rope at the end of it all!"

"Probably as many reasons as there are outlaws," the former outlaw leader suggested.

"Maybe. Don't see it myself."

There followed an instructive hour with Sheriff Watkins introducing them to Tom and Alice Jenkins, who ran the General Store; Albert Hoffman, the owner of Coleville's bank and also the mayor of said town, who was getting a shave and a haircut at the time from the barber and sometimes dentist, Ralph Moody; Otis Yates at the livery stable; Jake, the blacksmith gave them a grunted greeting as he pounded out a horseshoe, and various and sundry others whose names and faces it would take more than a quick meeting to remember.

While at the livery stable they spotted Jimmy sweeping out an empty stall. He paused in his work to wave cheerfully.

"While we're here, Otis, we'd like to see Jimmy's living arrangements, if you'd be so kind," Heyes requested politely, but firmly.

"Shore, right over here, sheriff!" Otis was a grizzled fellow, who wore three or four day's worth of whiskers, maybe to make up for the lack on top of his head. His trousers, that had seen better days, were baggy on his gaunt frame and held up by wide suspenders. His legs were bowed as if he'd spent much of his life astride a horse, and when he walked it was with a noticeable limp. He led them to the furthest stall in the stable. "This here's where the boy sleeps."

Heyes and Curry stepped up to the stall door, prepared for the worst, but looked in to see a neatly swept space in which a small bed had been placed that was comfortably made up with sufficient quilts to provide warmth. At its foot was a small chest, which they assumed held whatever belongings the boy had to call his own. It was a sparse little room, but they both had to admit to themselves that they had seen, and in fact occupied, worse at times in their lives.

"What if he gets sick, or needs something in the night?" Heyes probed, still not satisfied.

"Got my own room out yonder so I ain't never too far away."

"Hmm." Dark eyes narrowed and lips pursed thoughtfully, Heyes turned away and let Sheriff Watkins lead them to their next stop.

The sheriff seemed to have planned their tour so that their last stop was the saloon. They stepped through the batwing doors and into the cool dimness, blinking to adjust their eyes from the bright afternoon sun. As early in the day as it was, there were few customers and without all the noise and activity they could pause and take a good look at it.

Well-seasoned aficionados of saloons that they were, Heyes and Curry knew a good saloon when they saw one and, though this one wasn't top-notch, it was better than average. The main room, in which they stood, contained seven round tables circled with wooden chairs. The massive bar to the immediate left of the door was constructed of dark-stained oak that had been polished until it gleamed. A huge mirror in a gilded frame was mounted on the wall behind it, reflecting the bottles of liquor and all the corners of the room - - an important asset for a bartender whose back must frequently be turned. A back room, curtained off by strings of glass beads, contained the games of chance. A staircase led to the second floor, which held the rooms of the saloon girls, none of whom had made an appearance at this early of an hour.

They sat at a table that had a good view of the whole room. "Gus," Bill called to the man behind the bar. "Two beers an' a cup of coffee over here, please."

"Comin' right up, sheriff!"

Gus was a towering Swede, who looked more likely to be a lumberjack than a bartender. He had a thatch of nearly white blond hair, with eyebrows and lashes the same, but that disappeared against his pale skin. His eyes were a blue that would have been cold had they not been warmed by the genial smile he wore as he bore a large tray laden with the sheriff's order. He placed a beer in front of Heyes and Curry and then poured a steaming cup of coffee for Sheriff Watkins.

"Thanks, Gus. Boys, I want you t'meet Gus Erikson, the owner of this fine establishment. Gus, these are the new sheriffs for while I'm gone: Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones.

Gus's hand swallowed Heyes', with Curry's doing little better, as he said, "Welcome to Coleville. I hope your stay with us is peaceful."

"So do we!" Curry replied earnestly.

"Joshua and Thaddeus come highly recommended by Lom Trevors, the sheriff up in Porterville, so I'm sure they'll do a fine job of keeping the peace while I'm gone."

"I hope so," Gus said shortly and went back to his bar.

Heyes' eyes thoughtfully followed him. "Sounds like he might have some doubts there, Bill."

"Ah, Gus just worries since most of the troubles manage to start here and so it's his place that suffers any damage; by trouble I mean a drunken cowboy or some such."

"He seems big enough to handle any problem that might come up," Curry commented.

"So you'd think," the older man agreed. "But Gus there don't believe in violence, physical confrontations of any kind, calls himself a pacifist! He don't even have the usual shotgun behind the bar!"

"That seems mighty shortsighted," the gunslinger replied.

Bill shook his head and sighed. "I've tried to tell him that very thing, but he just won't hear of it! Fortunately, he hasn't had much cause to regret it, 'cept for some broken furniture now an' again for which the guilty parties are made to pay."

"This is all very interesting," Heyes began. "And it brings me to a question I've had ever since Lom told us about this job."

"What question is that, Joshua?"

"Lom mentioned certain 'factions' here in town, which is what made you look for substitutes outside your area. Maybe you could tell us a bit more about those factions, especially if the possibility exists of a conflict arising."

"No, it ain't nothin' like that! It's mostly just growin' pains," Bill assured them. "Here's the story: Benjamin Cole came to this valley thirty years ago, when there was nothin' here. He built himself a ranch, the Circle C, small at first but it soon grew and so did a little town, which was naturally named Coleville. Old Ben ran the valley and the town for a good lot of years and when he died his son, Adam, picked up where he left off. Folks was mostly happy with runnin' things the way the Coles liked 'em up 'til a few years ago. New folks started movin' in, farmers, new merchants an' such, folks that didn't owe their livelihood to the Coles. These new folk feel they oughta have a bigger say in the way the town is run since, after all, there's more of them. This attitude, as you might imagine, don't sit too good with Adam Cole and so city council meetings have felt a little tense lately. But you can see, I hope, why I chose to bring in outsiders to manage things while I was gone. As sheriff I feel it's my duty to stay neutral in this type of situation so I can be fair if any trouble does arise, which would've been compromised if I'd picked someone who sympathizes with one side or the other and, believe me, everyone in this town is on one side or the other! I don't figure on you havin' any problems cuz of this."

"That's all it is?" Heyes prodded.

"Yup, that's it!"

"Huh, well, then, I guess there ain't nothin' to worry about," the former outlaw leader agreed, though secretly he still harbored doubts and determined that he and Curry wouldn't let the sheriff's assurances lull them into complacency - - they hadn't survived years of outlawry without good reason.

They finished their drinks and moseyed back to the sheriff's office where he showed them where the keys, handcuffs, extra guns and ammunition were kept. "Is there anything I haven't covered? Do you have any questions?"

"You realize, of course, Bill, that we don't know every single law," Heyes confessed.

"You know the big ones, right? Murder, robbery, and such?" At the two newbie sheriffs' nods, he continued, "Disturbin' the peace covers a lot of territory - - use your judgment. Mostly use your common sense an' keep the town runnin' peacefully. Investigate if someone makes a complaint, see if the situation can be resolved without official intervention of the law, which is my first choice since dealin' with the courts can be so much trouble!"

"Oh, we certainly agree with that!" Curry exclaimed, earning a sharp look from his partner.

"Common sense we have plenty of, Bill," Heyes assured the lawman. "If the town's as you describe it, I don't think we'll have any trouble at all."

"That's real good! The wife an' I'll be on the early stage tomorrow. The plan is to be back in about two weeks, but I'll send a wire if there's any change."

"We'll hope everything goes smoothly for you, Bill," Heyes said, shaking the sheriff's hand and finishing the sentiment in his head, 'and so we can get out of this mess an' on our way!'

"Thank you, boys, I can't tell you how relieved I feel about leavin' knowin' the town's in such capable hands!" Sheriff Watkins gushed as he also shook Curry's hand.

"You can count on us, Bill! Don't worry one little bit - - you just take care of your wife!" Curry said, adding in his head, 'I'm sure I'll do enough worryin' for the three of us!'

The two new sheriffs took their leave of Sheriff Watkins and headed back to the saloon, suddenly feeling the need for a couple, or three, bracing drinks.

Chapter Three

Heyes' body clock served them well as they were up just as the sun began to rise, giving them plenty of time not only to shave, but to also brush the road dust off their boots and hats so as to look more respectable and less like saddle tramps.

They were the only customers in the café and so had their choice of tables. By habit they took seats at one with a good view of the street and a wall at their backs.

They were barely seated when a buxom brunette waitress sashayed up to them with steaming cups of coffee in her hands and a flirtatious look in her eyes.

"Haven't seen you boys in Coleville before," she stated. "Just passing through?"

"No, ma'am, we'll be here for a spell," Curry replied politely. "We're fillin' in for Sheriff Watkins while he's gone."

"Oh, well, then, I'll be seeing you now and then."

"A bit more than that, ma'am, since my partner here likes to eat regular!" Heyes put in with a dimpled grin. "I'm Joshua Smith an' he's Thaddeus Jones."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm sure. I'm Sara."

"The pleasure's ours, Sara. Now about breakfast," Curry prodded.

Called back to her duty, the waitress exclaimed, "Oh, forgive me! What can I bring you?"

"I'd like some bacon, eggs, hash browns, with a side of flapjacks," the blond ordered hungrily.

Sara's eyebrows rose incredulously as she wrote the order.

"Don't worry, ma'am, he'll eat it all," Heyes assured her. "For me, just bacon an' eggs an' a biscuit, please."

"Comin' right up."

"You're gonna have quite a reputation here, Thaddeus, well, at least your stomach will, unless you break the town's budget!" Brown eyes sparkled as he teased his friend.

"Can I help it if I'm hungry, Joshua?" Curry asked plaintively.

"No - - no, I reckon you can't at that," the other replied indulgently.

Their food arrived just as the morning stage pulled up across the street. From their vantage point they were able to see the passengers leave the stage office, Sheriff Watkins last with his arm around a frail looking woman. He saw her seated comfortably before climbing in himself, after which the driver whipped up the horses and soon only the settling dust was left behind.

"Well, I guess the town's ours now, Thaddeus. Just think what fun we could have if only we wasn't honest now!"

"Good thing Wheat an' the boys don't know where we are!" Curry grunted with his mouth full of flapjack.

"You got that right!"

Being gainfully employed now, the two didn't linger over a second cup of coffee, but paid the bill and moseyed over to their new office.

Shutting the door behind them, Heyes tossed the keys onto the desk and surveyed their domain with a critical eye.

"What should we do first?" Curry queried.

"First thing I'm gonna do is take down our wanted posters! Wouldn't do for someone to come in an' connect their new sheriffs with Hannibal Heyes an' Kid Curry, now would it?"

"Might be fun t'see their reaction, though."

"You've got a twisted sense of humor, you know that, Kid?"

"Seems t'me you've said that before, Heyes."

"So I'm sayin' it again!" Heyes tossed the offending posters upside down in a drawer and sat in the swivel chair behind the desk, and leaned back with his hands behind his neck.

Curry wandered over to the gun cabinet and pulled out one of the rifles. He worked the lever experimentally and then eyeballed it critically. "This ain't been cleaned in ages!" he said in disgust.

"By ages you probably mean a week!" Heyes rolled his eyes knowing his partner's obsession with cleaning his gun daily - - often cleaning Heyes' too if he felt the job was being neglected.

"Any sheriff worth 'is salt is gonna keep his arms ready for a moment's notice! While the posse's gatherin' is a mite too late!" the gunman retorted. He opened a drawer in the cabinet and found a good supply of cleaning materials. He pulled out what he needed and within moments had the first rifle broken down and was busily scouring it of whatever built up gunk was there.

Heyes was pleased to see his partner happily ensconced with work that he enjoyed, no matter how much he groused, and now he was hard put to find something for himself to do before it was time to make the first rounds.

He wandered out to the back of the office and found a pile of firewood cut and stacked neatly. He grabbed an armload and carried it back inside to start a fire in the potbellied stove. Once the fire was crackling merrily, he took the large coffee pot that was sitting on top of the stove and filled it with water from the pump outside, added coffee grounds and set it to boil on the stove.

With time on his hands now while the coffee brewed, he looked around the office again and his eyes lit on the safe in the far corner of the room. "Hey, Kid, do you remember if Bill mentioned anything about that safe?"

Curry looked up from the rifle he was cleaning and thought for a moment. "Nope, don't think he did."

"So, I don't suppose he left us the combination?"

"Don't suppose he did."

"What do you suppose a sheriff keeps in his safe?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Heyes, just as I'm sure you're gonna find out!"

"Might be something important in there that good ole Bill neglected to tell us about. It would be plumb negligence to not open it an' make sure!"

Curry shook his head as he smiled. "Why don't you just admit you can't look at a safe and not want to crack it, Heyes?"

"Well, there's that, too," Heyes admitted sheepishly. "But I still think it would be prudent to know what's in there."

"Have fun, Heyes."

Rubbing his fingertips together in anticipation, Heyes sat down on the floor in front of the safe and prepared to work his magic on it. He leaned his head against the cold metal, his finely tuned ear primed to hear the subtle click of the tumblers. All external distractions were blocked from his awareness as his entire focus centered on the task at hand.

Curry watched his friend as he had so many times before - - so many that he had lost count - - though this time with some amusement since it was just a game, their lives, or freedom, not riding on his success or failure. Their success or failure, rather, for this was where their partnership really shone; where their two different but finely honed skills harmonized and they worked together as smoothly as if they shared a mind.

The gunslinger didn't have to look at a clock to know that no more than two minutes had passed before he saw the slow, satisfied grin brighten Heyes' visage that told him the combination was cracked before the dark eyes caught his and the reformed thief said, "Well, let's have a look at what Sheriff Bill deems worthy to lock up in a safe!"

The door swung open silently, its hinges well oiled, and Heyes peeked around its edge into its depths. "What the …?" he exclaimed.

"What is it, Joshua? What's in there?" Curry asked, his curiosity aroused.

Rather than answering, Heyes reached in and pulled out a large ring of keys that jingled in his hand. "Just these an' a book," he growled in disappointment.

"Well, what'd you expect? This ain't the bank!" Curry almost laughed at the sorrow on his friend's face.

"But what's the point of havin' a safe if you ain't gonna put valuables in it?"

"I guess what's valuable to one ain't so valuable to another," the blond shrugged. "Probably keeps his prisoners' valuables in there."

"Hah! That explains the dust! This jail probably ain't seen much use 'cept for the town drunk! At least I got some practice," Heyes sighed and replaced the keys, shut the door, and gave the dial a hearty spin.

Once again at loose ends, Heyes poured himself a cup of the now finished coffee. Children's happy voices outside drew him to the door, where he leaned on the frame sipping and watching the parade of children heading to school. He smiled slightly as he remembered his own excitement at going to school.

A small figure perched on the hitching rail in front of the general store, kicking his bare feet, caught the new sheriff's eyes. "Hey, Jimmy, come over here a minute," he called.

Jimmy jumped happily to the ground and raced across the street. "What can I do for you, Mr. Smith?"

"Why aren't you going to school?" Heyes asked sternly.

"I never go to school, Mr. Smith," the boy replied innocently.

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "Ain't nobody told me to."

"Can you read?"

The shaggy head shook.

"Write your name?"

Another negative shake.

"What's two plus two?"

"Four!" came the prompt reply.

Dark eyebrows rose in surprise. "How 'bout ten minus seven?"

"Three!"

"So how come you can figure but you can't read an' write?"

"Ma made sure I could do figures so's to help make sure the traders didn't cheat her when she brought furs to trade."

"Well, that's somethin' at least. Stay right there, I'll be right back." Heyes tossed the dregs of his coffee into the street and stepped back into the office. "Thaddeus, I'm goin' down to the school house with Jimmy - - seems he hasn't been goin' t'school."

"An' you want to spoil that for him?" Curry replied, looking up from his work with a grin.

"Some kids actually like school!"

"You just keep thinkin' that, Joshua! Want me to come with you?"

"Thanks, but I think I can take care of one little school teacher! You hold down the fort here just in case somethin' serious comes up!"

"Okay, have fun."

Jimmy waited exactly where Heyes had left him. "All right, let's go."

"Where we goin'?" asked the boy as he walked quickly to keep up with the long strides of the new sheriff.

"T'talk to the school teacher about why you ain't in school."

"Why do I need t'go t'school?"

"Everybody oughta know how t'read an' write, Jimmy!"

"Why?"

Heyes slowed his steps so the boy could keep pace better. "Well, books are wonderful things. You can learn anything you want from books - - go places you've never been - - have wonderful adventures! A book can be a companion on a cold winter's night. On a more practical note, there are contracts to read, or letters from friends - - you'll want to read those, an' y'need t'be able t'write so you can answer 'em."

"Ain't got no friends t'write t'me."

"I'll write to you, Jimmy."

"Really? You would?" Jimmy's eyes glowed. "Why would ya?"

"Because I'm your friend, Jimmy, that's why, an' once me an' Mr. Jones leave I'll want to know how everythin's goin' with you."

"Really?" the boy repeated. "I guess goin' t'school's not so bad then."

"Smart boy."

They climbed the steps of the white clapboard building and peered into the window at the children bent industriously over their slates. All they could see of the teacher was her back as she leaned over to assist a student.

"You wait here a minute, Jimmy," ordered Heyes. Removing his hat politely, he knocked before entering the schoolroom. "Excuse me, ma'am."

"Yes?" The schoolmarm straightened to her full height, which was still diminutive, and turned to face the newcomer.

Heyes was pleasantly surprised to see that she was somewhat young, in her mid-thirties perhaps, with intelligent eyes behind round spectacles, and warm brown hair that was pulled severely back into a bun. She was dressed modestly in a black skirt and crisp white shirtwaist; a watch hanging from a ribbon her only adornment.

"Ma'am, I'm Sheriff Smith - - I'm filling in for Sheriff Watkins."

"Yes, I had heard there was a substitute coming."

"Two of us actually, but that's beside the point. May I have a word with you outside for a moment?"

"Yes, of course. Children, continue with your exercises. We will have the spelling test when I return."

A dozen pairs of curious eyes watched their teacher sweep out the door held open by the stranger, then obediently returned to their work.

"Now how may I help you, Sheriff Smith?"

"Are you aware, Miss - - ?" Heyes paused questioningly.

"I'm Miss Davenport - - Kathleen Davenport."

"Are you aware, Miss Davenport, that you are short a student?"

"I believe that you are mistaken, Sheriff Smith, my entire class is present today."

Heyes' eyes narrowed dangerously. "Then I'm to assume that Jimmy here," he put his arm around the boy's shoulders and pulled him forward. "Has been intentionally denied schooling, is that correct?"

A flush rose up the teacher's face. "Well, I … no, surely not intentionally," she stammered.

"Then can you explain to me why he is not in school?"

"A student is usually enrolled by a parent or guardian …" she began.

"So he's being denied an education because he's an orphan? Not one person in all of Coleville could assume the responsibility of enrolling the boy?" Heyes' face became sterner by the minute.

"I'm certain it was inadvertent, Sheriff Smith!" The schoolteacher drew herself up to her full height and glared indignantly up at the lawman.

"There seem to be a few inadvertencies here in Coleville, Miss Davenport! However, I am here to correct this particular one and enroll Jimmy in school."

"Are you his official guardian?"

"No."

"I'm afraid only a parent or legal guardian may enroll a child."

"Miss Davenport, is it your belief that Jimmy is better off runnin' wild in the streets than bein' in school gettin' an education?"

"No, of course not, but there are rules!"

"I strongly suggest that the rules be bent in this circumstance, Miss Davenport! I will assume responsibility for the boy for as long as I am here in Coleville and I will see to it that other arrangements are made before I leave. Will that be sufficient?"

Beginning to wilt under the heat of the sheriff's stare, all Miss Davenport could do was agree to his demands as gracefully as possible. "Very well, Sheriff Smith. There are a few items he will need . . ."

"Give me a list and he'll have whatever he needs by tomorrow, though surely you have materials he could borrow in the meantime."

"Yes, of course, come in and I will give you the list and get Jimmy settled."

Ten minutes later Heyes left the schoolhouse, list in hand, Jimmy having been introduced and given a slate and chalk and set to painstakingly copying the alphabet while the rest of the class took their spelling test.

With a purposeful stride Heyes entered the general store. Both the shopkeepers were busy with customers so he took the time to browse the merchandise. A small stack of books caught his eye and he had time to peruse each title, casually flipping through some of the pages.

He was thus occupied when Mrs. Jenkins hurried over to him. "How may I help you, sheriff?"

He put the book he was holding down and handed her the list. "I need everything on this list, please."

She scanned the list and looked up at him in surprise. "Why, Sheriff Smith, I didn't realize you were a family man!"

"I'm not," he replied. "These things are for Jimmy - - I've just enrolled him in school."

"Is that so? I didn't know that was a sheriff's duty," she sniffed.

"It's not, but if those whose duty it is won't, then I guess it becomes mine." Heyes' cold look quelled anything else she might have said in argument. "The supplies, if you please."

Back stiff with disapproval, the woman turned to her shelves and within moments a small pile had grown on the counter: a slate, a packet of chalk, an arithmetic primer, a reading primer, a thin packet of paper, a pot of ink, three quills, and several pencils. On top of all that was placed a book bag. "Anything else?" Mrs. Jenkins demanded.

"Can you think of anythin' else that's missing? I gotta admit it's been a mighty long time since I went to school, ma'am." Heyes scratched his head and managed a little boy lost look sure to melt the hardest of hearts.

"Well," she hesitated, then caved in to the plea in the warm brown eyes. "He'll be needing a lunch pail, if he expects to eat anyway."

"Oh, for sure! How could I forget that? Throw one of them in there then. Anythin' else?"

"I expect that should be about everything, sheriff."

"What do I owe you then?"

"That'll be five dollars"

Heyes paid the bill, tipped his hat to the shopkeeper and said, "Much obliged, ma'am."

The short walk to the Sheriff's Office did little to smooth Heyes' disgruntled mood. The frown on his face warned Curry as he looked up at his partner from the gun he was cleaning. "Who put the burr under your saddle, Joshua?" he queried.

With a disgusted snort, Heyes plopped into the wheeled chair behind the desk and set the package on it. "People's attitudes in this town is what!"

"Did you get Jimmy in school?"

"Yeah, but if Miss Davenport had had her way he wouldn't be! Seems there's a rule that only a parent or legal guardian can enroll a kid!"

"Really? So what did you do?" Curry had no doubts about his partner's ability to overcome such a minor obstacle, but he was curious how he had accomplished it.

"I bullied her."

"What? Where was that famous silver tongue? Was the school marm an old hag?"

"No, she was reasonably attractive, a tiny little thing, but with steel for a spine! I'm afraid her rigid attitude got my back up and I got a little forceful. Plus I sort of adopted Jimmy for the duration of our stay here." Heyes looked at his partner a little sheepishly.

Curry raised his eyebrows in surprise - - Heyes didn't usually have a soft spot for kids; that was typically Curry's downfall along with a lady in distress. "You're gettin' soft, Joshua."

"Miss Davenport might not agree with you."

"So what's in the package?"

"School supplies. Mrs. Jenkins wasn't too happy about sellin' 'em either."

"Why not? Ain't it her business t'sell stuff?"

"Seems she didn't approve of me buyin' 'em for Jimmy!"

"What's it to her who the stuff's for?"

"It's part of that attitude I was tellin' you about, Thaddeus! I just don't get it. I mean he's just a little kid!"

"Well, they have kept clothes on his back an' fed 'im; kept a roof, such as it is, over his head . . ."

"The bare minimum is all. Speakin' of clothes, though, I'm sure he could use a couple of changes, an' he for sure needs shoes, I'd've got 'em, but figure he oughta be there so I get the sizes right."

"Well, I guess you adopted him!" Curry exclaimed with a laugh.

"Seemed like the right thing t'do at the time. Besides, we might need something to keep the boredom at bay in this little town."

"Hah! We should be so lucky!" the gunslinger snorted sarcastically.

"There you go lookin' on the dark side again, Thaddeus," Heyes chided.

"Just goin' by past experience, is all."

"Uh huh. Ain't it about time to make the rounds?" Heyes asked, putting an end to the conversation.

They made their midday rounds finding nothing going on but the normal business of the citizens, but then from experience they knew that the dark hours were when the lowlifes more frequently came out.

Satisfied that all was well, they made a side trip into the telegraph office and sent two telegraphs - - one to Lom saying they'd gotten to Coleville without incident and the second to Brigitte and Mary letting them know their whereabouts also. They then went to the restaurant for their dinner.

When Sara brought their plates of pork chops, fried potatoes, and fresh peas, Heyes asked, "Would it be too much trouble to ask you to make up a dinner each day for Jimmy to take to school? We'll pay for it, of course."

"No trouble at all! So Jimmy's going to school now? I've often wondered when someone was going to see to that boy's education!" She shook her head with a look of disgust. "Do you have a pail?"

"Yes, I'll bring it at breakfast, if that's all right."

"Fine. Anything in particular you'd like me to put in it?"

Heyes shrugged. "Anything you think's proper an' that he'll like. Been a lot of years since I went to school so I don't rightly remember."

"Okay, I'll put something together."

"Thanks, Sara."

They polished off their plates with good appetites and lingered over a second cup of coffee before wandering back to the office. Heyes busied himself for a few minutes noting in the sheriff's log the morning's occurrences, or lack thereof. They were then at loose ends until their next rounds.

"This job's pretty boring, Joshua," Kid observed.

"I suspect boring is appreciated by a sheriff, Thaddeus," Heyes replied. "Don't you remember Grandpa Curry's favorite Irish curse - -'may you live in interesting times'? Seems somebody found dull to be the more preferable option."

"Huh!" Curry grunted.

"We're sure proof of the truth of his other favorite curse."

"Which was?"

"May you come to the attention of the authorities."

The blond nodded in agreement. "That's for sure."

Heyes frown slightly in thought. "I never did understand why the third one was considered a curse, and the worst of them all according to Grandpa."

"What was that?"

"May you get what you wish for."

"Sounds like a good thing t'me!" Curry said.

"Always did to me, too, but somebody must've thought gettin' one's heart's desire was more bad than good! I still don't get it. Can there be a bad side to our gettin' amnesty?"

"Can't be worse than what we've had, Joshua! I just hope we get it so we can find out!"

"Me, too, Thaddeus, me, too."

The sound of running feet, shouts, and laughter announced the ending of school and Heyes stepped to the door to call Jimmy inside so he could give him his new things, but there was no sign of him to be seen. He frowned slightly and then hailed a young girl skipping down the sidewalk. "Hey, have you seen Jimmy?"

Without a pause in her skipping she replied, "Miss Davenport kept him after!"

His frown deepened and he spun back into the office to grab his hat and jam it on his head. "I'm goin' to the schoolhouse, Kid! Jimmy's been kept after!"

Amused and not willing to be left out of the fireworks if there were to be any, Curry grabbed his own hat and hurried after his partner, whose long strides ate up the distance.

Curry's amusement grew as he noticed the townspeople giving his partner a wide berth when they saw his black look. Not surprising at all since the hardened criminals of the Devil's Hole Gang had feared that same look.

"Miss Davenport, I'd like a word with you!" Heyes demanded, swinging the schoolroom door open forcefully.

Two surprised faces looked up from the book that had been bent over. A big grin split Jimmy's face.

"Mr. Smith!" he exclaimed. "Miss Davenport's been helping me read the primer! She said if I stay after school for awhile so she can help me then I'll soon be caught up with the rest!"

"Oh - - well - - that's great, Jimmy!" Heyes stuttered. Curry had to smother a smile at his partner's discomfiture.

"Will you be so good as to clean the erasers for me, Jimmy?" the teacher suggested. "We'll do some more tomorrow."

"Okay, Miss Davenport."

Miss Davenport stood and faced the two men who had invaded her domain. "Yes, sheriff, you wished to speak with me?"

"Oh - - uh - - yes, well, I just wanted to see how Jimmy had done today."

A delicate eyebrow arched in disbelief at this obvious lie, but she tactfully let it pass. "He did remarkably well considering he's never been to school before. I'd like to thank you, sheriff, for seeing to his enrollment - - he's a very bright boy and it would have been a tragedy to let his mind go to waste."

"Well, you're welcome, Miss Davenport." The usually smooth outlaw was struggling to regain his mental balance.

"You were right to chide me about being so strictly bound by rules that we let a child's welfare suffer. I shall endeavor to not let it happen again."

"I must apologize myself, Miss Davenport. I'm afraid I may have been a little less tactful than I could have been and probably should have been."

"Quite all right, Sheriff Smith. Maybe we should begin our acquaintance again. I am Kathleen Davenport." She held out her hand.

Heyes took the hand gently and replied, "Joshua Smith at your service, ma'am, and behind me is my partner, Thaddeus Jones."

Curry tipped his hat. "A pleasure, ma'am."

"I'm finished!" a bright voice interrupted the tableau. "Can I go now?"

"May I go now," the teacher corrected.

"May I go now, Miss Davenport?"

"Yes, you may, Jimmy. Be sure to be on time tomorrow."

"I will, Miss Davenport! You comin', Mr. Smith? Mr. Jones?" The boy practically danced in his eagerness to be off.

"We'll be on our way then, ma'am. See you around."

"I'm sure we will, Sheriff Smith," Miss Davenport replied.

The two men tipped their hats and followed the boy out into the late afternoon sunshine.

"So you liked your first day of school, eh, Jimmy?" Heyes asked the boy.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Smith, it was so much fun - - hard, too, and I'm way behind for my age says Miss Davenport, but she said, too, that it's not too bad since I do know figgerin'! An' Miss Davenport is real nice - - she shared her dinner with me since I didn't bring one!"

"That was very nice of her," Curry agreed.

Heyes glanced down at the boy's bare feet raising puffs of dust in the street. "You got any shoes, Jimmy?"

"Yeah, but I don't like to wear 'em cuz they pinch my feet."

"Sounds like you need a new, bigger pair."

"Aw, do I have to?" the boy looked downcast.

"A person oughta wear shoes t'school," Heyes answered firmly. "'Sides winter's comin'. Let's make a stop at the bootmaker's an' order you up a pair."

"Could I have boots like yours?" Jimmy asked, the admiration for his new hero plain in his eyes.

"I don't see why not."

Heyes and Curry exchanged an amused glance and followed the exuberant boy to get measured for his new footwear. The boy stood remarkably still during this process and his spirits were only slightly lowered when he learned it would be a week before they were ready.

From the bootmaker's they went to the General Store where Mrs. Jenkins seemed to have had an attitude change and welcomed the small group with a smile. "How can I help you now, sheriff?"

"I'd like to set Jimmy up with a new set of clothes, Mrs. Jenkins, if you happen t'have anything in his size."

"I'm sure I have something here," she replied and went to the shelves. After a brief search she brought out a pair of brown canvas trousers, a pair of overalls, and two durable shirts: one white, and one blue. She held them up to the boy and eyed them critically. "These should do right fine - - a tad large but he'll soon grow into them and then right out again! I remember well when my own boy was his age."

Heyes checked that the trousers Jimmy was currently wearing were still serviceable and then said, "We'll take both the shirts. Which do you prefer, Jimmy, the overalls or the trousers?"

Eyes alight with the excitement of having a choice, he said, "I'd like the trousers, Mr. Smith, if you please!"

"Those would've been my choice, too," Heyes approved. "While we're here we might as well get several more pairs of socks and two sets of underclothes, please. Oh, almost forgot - - a belt, too!"

"Very good, sheriff." The shopkeeper added the desired items to the pile. "Will that be everything?"

"That should about do it. What do you think, Thaddeus?"

"Nothin' else comes t'mind at the moment, Joshua," Curry replied.

"How much do I owe you, Mrs. Jenkins?"

The woman summed up the purchases and Heyes counted the money out onto the counter while she wrapped the items in brown paper and tied it with string. "Thank you, sheriff."

"A pleasure doin' business with you, ma'am!" Heyes tipped his hat politely and scooped up the package.

"Can I carry it, Mr. Smith?" Jimmy begged.

"Sure, it's your stuff!"

The boy clasped the brown package tightly to his chest and they walked out of the store and crossed the street to the sheriff's office where Heyes presented Jimmy with his other new possessions. The boy was wide-eyed with wonder at the large haul. "Wow! This is all for me?" he exclaimed.

"All for you. You gotta take good care of it, though," Heyes admonished.

"Oh, I will! Thank you, Mr. Smith! I'd better go put them away an' then I've gotta help Otis with the chores."

"Okay, Jimmy, but you stop by here in the morning before you go to school to pick up your dinner pail, all right?"

"All right! Thanks again, Mr. Smith! You, too, Mr. Jones!" With a final wave the boy raced out.

Watching him disappear, Heyes looked thoughtful. "You know, Kid, I think I've remembered who Jimmy reminds me of."

"Oh? Who's that?"

"Remember Alfie from the Home?"

"Yeah."

"That's who he reminds me of."

Alfred Montgomery, or Alfie as he was called, had come to the Home a few months after the young Heyes and Curry had, orphaned by sickness rather than the violence that had brought the other two. He had been Curry's age, but his dark hair, brown eyes, and slight build had made him close enough in appearance to be Heyes' younger brother. His innocent confusion at the change in his situation had been much like the young Kid's and so Heyes had taken him under his protection also. He hadn't stayed at the Home long, though, before he'd been adopted. The couple that had taken him had been interested in a little older of a boy and had considered Heyes, but the wary suspicion in the young Heyes' brown eyes, the bitter twist to his lips, had turned them instead to the younger Alfie who resembled him so closely. Heyes had really been happy for the younger boy because he hadn't wanted his sweet innocence to be destroyed as it would have been had he had an extended stay.

Curry nodded. "That means he should remind you of you then."

Heyes shook his head. "I don't remember ever being so carefree and innocent as Alfie and Jimmy."

"You can't tell me you don't remember all the years before . . ." he still had trouble saying out loud what had happened to their families. "Well, you know, before!"

"That was another Hannibal Heyes," Heyes replied grimly, his eyes darkening to almost black and his jaw tightening.

Curry recognized his friend's sudden change in mood and wisely dropped the subject.

"How 'bout playin' some blackjack?" he suggested to take his partner's mind off dark thoughts.

"Sure, why not?" Heyes responded without much enthusiasm, but after a few hands he became absorbed in the mechanics and strategy of the game and his smile returned along the way.

The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly enough without anyone needing the temporary sheriffs' expertise and soon enough it was suppertime

"We keep eatin' like this an' you're gonna get fat, Thaddeus," Heyes commented over their slices of fresh cherry pie.

"I'm gonna get fat? What about you?" Kid retorted, offended.

"If you haven't noticed, I never get fat no matter how little exercise we get - - probably cuz my brain's always working even when my body isn't!" the dark eyes twinkled as he teased his always hungry friend.

"You sure you don't mean your mouth?" Curry growled. "'Sides I'm still catchin' up on what I lost bein' hurt an' all."

The twinkle died out of Heyes' eyes. "Sorry, Kid, I forgot. You eat all you want."

"Now I didn't mean for ya t'go getting' all moody again, Joshua!" Curry cursed himself for not thinking before opening his mouth. "No matter how much I complain about how much you talk, I'd rather that than when you're all broody!"

"I don't brood," Heyes retorted.

"Okay, most likely you got a fancier word for it, but it pans out the same. Let it go."

"I've never been very good at that."

"No need t'tell me that!" Curry snorted.

Heyes took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Okay, I've let it go. Now, how 'bout I buy you a drink?"

"Sounds good, but ain't we on duty?"

"I'll be on duty, you have a drink - - we'll trade off. How's that?"

"Sometimes I like the way you think, Joshua!"

They paid their bill and stepped out into a street that was lit by a brilliant red sunset to the west while its eastern end was darkening with the falling night. They paused to admire the view only to have the sound of a commotion in front of the saloon draw their attention.

"What's goin' on over there, Joshua?"

Broad shoulders shrugged. "Looks like a bible-thumpers' meetin' - - strange place for it, though. Let's check it out since we're headin' that way anyway."

"And because it's our job!"

"That, too."

They strolled toward the saloon and quickly noticed that the small crowd was made up entirely of black clad women, one of whom had climbed onto a box and was holding a Bible as she shouted, "Let us walk honestly, as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying. But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfill the lusts thereof!"

Several men eyed the women with amusement as they gave them a wide berth and entered the swinging doors of the saloon.

Not deterred, the woman raised her voice even louder, "Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise!"

Heyes and Curry stopped in front of the small group and both crossed their arms across their chests as they looked on and another man scurried past to enter the beleaguered building.

"He that loveth pleasure shall be a poor man: he that loveth wine and oil shall not be rich!" harangued the woman. A chorus of amens from the other women accompanied this pronouncement.

"May I ask what's going on here?" Heyes inquired politely.

"Oh, sheriff! You are just in time!" exclaimed the preachy woman.

"For what? And I don't believe we've met, ma'am."

"I am Mrs. Cuthbert, Reverend Cuthbert's wife," she announced proudly. "And you have come just in time to shut down this den of iniquity!"

"Beggin' your pardon, ma'am?" The dark haired sheriff could hardly believe his ears.

"Shut down this saloon! This purveyor of strong drink, gambling, and the flesh of wanton women!"

"Ah!" Heyes replied. "I understand, but I'm afraid I'm unable to do so."

"Why not, may I ask?" The woman puffed up in indignation.

"Because no laws are being broken, ma'am," he said reasonably.

"They who enter are sinners!" Mrs. Cuthbert nearly shrieked.

"That's as may be, ma'am, but as far as I know no laws have been made against drinkin' alcohol, gamblin', or - - or anythin' else that saloons provide. Good evening, ladies." He tipped his hat politely as did the Kid and they also bypassed the women.

Immediately behind them Mrs. Cuthbert shouted, "Be not among winebibbers; among riotous eaters of flesh; For the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty: and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags!"

Thankfully they entered the saloon where the happy sound of the player piano, and the rumble of the customers drowned the preachy woman out. Gus hurried over to them as they approached the bar. "What can I get you, sheriffs?"

"Whiskey for Sheriff Jones and a cup of your good coffee for me, Gus," Heyes ordered.

"Comin' right up!"

As the barkeeper brought a steaming cup of coffee and poured the shot of whiskey, Heyes gestured to the outside and asked, "Who're they?"

Gus glanced out the doors to the barely visible head of Mrs. Cuthbert. "That's the Ladies' Temperance Society of Coleville - - they've been tryin' to shut me down for two months now!"

"Have they hurt your business any? Caused any customers to stay away?"

"Not so's you'd notice, mostly their own menfolk."

"While there's no laws against saloons there are laws against disturbin' the peace, so if they ever disturb you, Gus, we'll arrest them!"

"Oh, I don't believe that'll be necessary, sheriff!" Gus hastened to say.

"Just keep it in mind, Gus."

"I will, sheriff." Gus scurried, as much as a man a big as he was could, to serve his other customers.

"Now that's just plumb unnatural, Joshua," Curry commented.

"What's that, Thaddeus?"

"A man that big bein' so scared!"

"Does make ya wonder, don't it?"

They both shook their heads at the situation.

The two acting-sheriffs looked around the saloon as they sipped their drinks. It was far from full as could be expected on a Wednesday night, but decent. There was one desultory poker game in progress that looked to be not much more than penny ante. One of the two saloon girls lounged over the shoulder of one of the players, feigning interest but the boredom was apparent to the two whose observational skills had been keenly honed out of necessity. The other girl, a pretty but overly painted blond, had perked up briefly when the two handsome men had entered, but the interest faded when she caught sight of the badges. Both were quietly relieved

Gus had drifted back closer to them and Heyes asked, "Does your action pick up on the weekend, Gus?"

"Oh, ja! When the boys from the Circle C and a couple of the smaller ranches come in, it gets very lively in here!"

"Much trouble?"

"Nah, not much. Once in a while a fight and some broken furniture, the expected costs of running a saloon."

"So bein' sheriff here isn't too demanding, eh?" Curry commented.

"Nah, Coleville is a pretty quiet little town."

Gus moved away again to pour another drink and Curry caught his partner's eye. "Why is it, Joshua, that every time I hear 'quiet little town' I get chills up an' down my spine?"

"Cuz you always expect the worst, Thaddeus," Heyes quipped.

"Huh! Well, it seems my expectations get met most of the time!" Curry tossed off the rest of his whiskey and set the glass down on the bar with a thump. "I'm hittin' the hay! I think I'm gonna need all the sleep I can get!"

Heyes rolled his eyes, but followed his partner out the swinging doors, knowing there was no point in arguing with the Kid when he got like this; knowing also that he was all too frequently right.

Chapter Four

Their second day of sheriffing began as the first had. They took the same table in the restaurant as they had the day before and Sara was there promptly with cups of coffee. She took their orders and Jimmy's dinner pail, returning quickly with the former and the latter at the end of their meal.

They crossed to their office where Curry immediately set about lighting the stove and making a pot of coffee and Heyes took his seat behind the desk. He searched the drawers for a sheet of paper where he wrote the previous day's incidents, having decided the night before that Sheriff Watkins would probably like to know what had happened in his absence.

The coffee was just ready and Curry was filling the two mugs when Jimmy raced in the door, his eyes bright with excitement. He wore his new blue shirt and brown trousers, the cuffs rolled carefully up so as to not get dirty and worn out dragging on the ground. His feet were still bare where they stuck out below the cuffs.

"Well, don't you look dandy, Jimmy!" Curry exclaimed, being the first to see the boy.

"Thanks, Mr. Jones! I tried to put my shoes on, but they hurt too much!"

"Hmm, I suppose we can let you slide 'til your new boots are finished," he replied mock sternly.

Heyes finished what he was writing before he looked up. "Mornin', Jimmy! Yep, you do look fine. Did you finish your homework?"

"Oh, yes, sir!"

"Very good. Now I expect you to be on your best behavior and do whatever Miss Davenport tells you, all right?"

"I will, Mr. Smith!"

The boy turned to dash out the door, but the dark-haired sheriff called him back. "Ain't you forgettin' somethin'?" He held up the dinner pail. "I expect Miss Davenport would appreciate not havin' t'share!"

Jimmy ran back and took the proffered pail. "Thanks!"

Curry shook his head in amazement at the boy's eagerness. "Takes t'school like a duck t'water just like you! Probably be the teacher's pet before the week's out!"

"I was never the teacher's pet," Heyes said.

"You woulda been if y'hadn't been such a prankster!" the other retorted.

"Somebody had t'liven things up every now an' then!"

"But you tell Jimmy t'mind the teacher, ain't that contrary?"

"Don't grown ups always want children to avoid makin' the same mistakes they made? As sheriffs we should be good role models, Thaddeus."

"I think this sheriffin' is goin' t'your head already, Joshua!"

Heyes was spared the need to defend himself by the arrival outside of several horsemen. "We've got company, Thaddeus."

Only one of the men dismounted and came into the office. He was a man of middling height and age, but he hadn't let his body run to fat. His brown hair was streaked with gray, but he was as lean and saddle-hardened as any young cowboy. He wore a working cowboy's attire, but it was obviously of good quality and fairly new. The six-gun and holster strapped around his waist showed the signs of wear and usage, though it was not tied down like both of the sheriffs'. His steel gray eyes were as hard as the metal they matched and their corners had creases from long days squinting into the sun, and his gaze was stern and steady. "Where's Sheriff Watkins?" he bellowed.

"He's out of town for a couple of weeks. We're the acting sheriffs - - I'm Joshua Smith, and he's Thaddeus Jones."

"Right, I remember my wife telling me something about his wife being sick. This is a fine time for him to be gone!"

"I'm sure we can help you if you have a problem, Mr. - - -" Heyes prompted.

"The name's Cole, Adam Cole. Maybe you've heard of me?"

"Hard not to since this is Coleville!" Curry put in wryly.

"How can we help you, Mr. Cole?" Heyes asked politely, tossing his partner a dark look.

"I want you to arrest Sam Adamson for destruction of property and horse thieving!" the rancher demanded.

"Those are serious charges, Mr. Cole, perhaps you should sit down and tell us just who Sam Adamson is and how you know he's done what you say he's done."

"Fine, let me release my boys." The rancher stepped back to the door and spoke to the riders still patiently sitting on their horses. "Go grab yourselves a drink in the saloon, boys, and I'll meet you there shortly."

"Sure thing, Mr. Cole," one replied and they turned their horses' heads in the direction of the saloon.

Adam Cole took the chair in front of the desk Heyes occupied and began, "Sam used to work for me as a wrangler - - he's got a fine hand with horses - - but then he began to get all womanish about my eliminating the wild horse problem on my range - - kept telling me how magnificent they are and should be left to run free, that they don't belong to me, and on and on. When I told him that whatever was on my range belonged to me and I'd do whatever was necessary he up and quit and since then he's been doing everything he can to stop me! My boys round up a bunch of the horses, he sets them loose again! He cuts my fences, ruins the traps I set for them, and if you don't arrest him then I'm going to deal with him in my own way and I can guarantee it won't be pretty!"

"How are you 'eliminating the problem'?" Curry wanted to know.

"Killing 'em, what else?"

Both Heyes and Curry's minds flashed back to the beautiful herd of wild horses on their soon-to-be-ranch and were horrified at the thought of their deaths.

"Why?"

"They're vermin, that's why!" the rancher bellowed. "They steal the graze and water my cattle need! Now I've just learned there's a slaughterhouse back east that has found a use for horsemeat, paying good money, too, and I aim to round up a bunch of 'em and herd 'em to the train station and I want Sam Adamson out of my way! So are you going to go out and arrest him, or do I take care of him my way?"

"Do you know where we can find him?"

"Sure, he's got a cabin not far off my northern fence line, I can give you directions."

"What if we ride out and talk to him, Mr. Cole; maybe we can get him to see reason," Heyes suggested.

"You can talk 'til you're blue in the face and that boy isn't going to listen! Well, maybe he'll listen to someone who's on the outside. Fine, I'll give you a chance to talk him out of this nonsense, if that don't work, and you don't arrest him, then it'll be up to me."

"Now, Mr. Cole, if you're thinking of violence, there are laws . . ." the dark sheriff began.

"I have the right to protect my property! If violence is the only way then I'm pretty sure the law around here will support me in that!"

Knowing the rancher was most likely right Heyes said no more on the subject, just asked, "Would you draw us a map to this cabin?"

Cole took the pencil and sheet of paper Heyes handed him and quickly drew a rough map. "Take you about three hours hard riding to get there. Are you going today?"

"We'll leave as soon as we can get our horses saddled," Heyes assured him.

"Fine. And good luck reasoning with the boy, you're going to need it!" Adam Cole shoved his hat back on his head and stalked out the door.

"Well, it looks like things are startin' t'perk up around here!" Heyes said almost gleefully.

"What'd I tell ya!" Curry replied with a sigh.

"C'mon, Thaddeus, it's a beautiful day for a ride an' you can't deny the horses need the exercise."

"Last time we 'exercised the horses' I ended up havin' t'shoot Joe Briggs!"

"I promise you won't hafta shoot anybody this time."

"Now how you gonna keep a promise like that, Joshua?"

"I'll shoot 'em for ya!"

"Oh, now that makes me feel so much better!"

With a grin, Heyes slapped his partner on the shoulder. "Let's go. If we leave now we should be able to get back by supper!"

"What about dinner?'

"You go get the horses saddled an' I'll write up a sign t'leave on the door an' then I'll stop by the restaurant to see what can be packed for the road. I'll meet you back here."

"Okay," the blond sighed in resignation.

Within a half hour the two acting-sheriffs were on the road out of town, four thick beef sandwiches tucked into their saddlebags.

Their horses were prancing in their eagerness to run so as soon as they cleared the town limits their riders gave them their heads. They ran as if a posse were after them, but since one wasn't they could revel in the fluid motions of the animals beneath them and the wind blowing in their faces. Heyes' blood sang in his veins and he let out a cowboy

yell, leaning forward to help his horse run even faster. His eyes sparkled with pure joy and he glanced aside to share a grin with his partner, who had shared so many similarly wild rides for so many years.

After a time, the horses slowed of their own accord so they and their riders could catch their breath.

"That was great! How long has it been since we've ridden like that, Kid?"

"Y'mean without a posse after us? Never that I can recollect," Curry replied.

"Well, I plan to do more of it in the future - - cleared the cobwebs right out of my brain!"

"Like your brain ever stops long enough for cobwebs t'grow!" the Kid scoffed.

Heyes laughed and they continued on at a more sedate, yet still ground-eating pace.

For many miles they crossed open range on the main road and then the map had them

turn off onto a narrow track leading into a pine forest where the sound of their horses' hooves was muffled by the carpet of fallen needles. The air was cool and pine scented and it was easy enough to feel this was just a pleasure ride.

As they topped a ridge, two pine trees stood out from the rest by the Circle C brand burned into their bark. They reined in. "Well, this is the Circle C boundary marker, Kid; shouldn't be far now."

They looked back the way they'd come at the vast tract of land spread out below, all owned by Adam Cole. "Amazin', ain't it, Heyes, that one man can lay claim to so much land? Seems like robbery t'me!"

"Robbin' from who, Kid? Wasn't nobody here before Cole's father came along - - some Indians maybe - - a body could claim as much land as he could hold."

"Seems like there's plenty a space for a few wild horses!" Curry continued stubbornly.

"Yeah, you'd think," Heyes agreed, nudging his horse into movement again.

Trees were more sparse on this side of the ridge so they had a fairly unobstructed view below. It was what has been called a bowl, a small flat space surrounded almost completely by the ridgeline. A glittering stream ran through it and from a stand of trees abutting the ridge to their left rose a thin ribbon of smoke.

"Looks like that's where we're goin'," Heyes commented.

"Sure ain't hidin', is he?" replied Curry.

"No reason to long as he ain't on the Circle C."

"Maybe he don't know just how much trouble he's in with Mr. Cole," the Kid mused.

They reached the flat and kicked their horses into a lope. As they approached the trees where they'd seen the smoke, and now they were closer they could smell it, too, they saw a tiny cabin tucked in the shelter of the trees. They slowed their mounts and approached more cautiously.

There was no sign of the inhabitant so they reined in at a safe distance and Heyes called, "Hello the cabin!"

He was answered by the ominous cocking of a rifle from behind and a voice ordering, "Put up your hands, boys! Keep 'em where I can see 'em!"

Chagrined at being thus taken off guard, the two sheriffs raised their hands into the air. "I think he knows how much trouble he's in, Thaddeus!" Heyes said quietly to his partner, then he raised his voice and said, "If you're Sam Adamson, we've just come to talk!"

Footsteps accompanied by the jingle of spurs sounded as the man who'd got the drop on them moved to where they could see him. "I'm Sam Adamson, but I don't know that we've got anything to talk about!"

The wild horse wrangler was ripcord lean and lanky, dressed in jeans covered by brown fringed chaps, a light blue shirt faded to almost white, its sleeves rolled up, a darker blue bandanna knotted around his throat. A well-worn holster with a six-gun was belted around his slim hips. His head was bare and his hair appeared to be blond until he stepped into the sun, which lit glints of fiery red in the tousled hair that fell in waves to the bottom of his collar. A rusty colored moustache decorated his upper lip, its tips ending just below the corners of his mouth, which was set sternly. His eyes watched them steadily, warily, and, outside of the Kid's, Heyes had never seen a deeper, colder blue. He appeared to be perhaps a few years older than the former outlaw leader, but maybe not since facial hair tended to make a man look older. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm Joshua Smith and this is my partner, Thaddeus Jones, and we're the acting sheriffs of Coleville in the absence of Sheriff Watkins," Heyes replied.

Suddenly noticing the badges pinned to the men's vests, the steely look in the cowboy's eyes changed to one of chagrin as he lowered the muzzle of his rifle. "Oh, I'm sorry! I was thinking you might be some of Adam Cole's boys coming to harass me some more! Please, put your hands down! Can I invite you in for a cup of coffee?"

"That's mighty hospitable of you," Heyes said, lowering his arms, seeing Kid doing the same out of the corner of his eye.

"There's a small corral with a watering trough behind the cabin where you can leave your horses, if you'd like."

"Much obliged," Curry said, speaking for the first time.

They released their mounts into the corral after first removing their saddlebags and returned to the front of the cabin where Sam Adamson was waiting. "Have you eaten dinner? I'm afraid I haven't anything to offer since I was just going hunting when I saw you riding up."

"We have sandwiches in our saddlebags, more than plenty if you'd like one."

"That's mighty kind of you, sheriff! Come in, make yourselves at home, while I put on the coffee!"

The two sheriffs followed the cowboy into the dimness of the cabin and as their eyes adjusted they saw that it was only one room furnished with a cot, a roughly made table and two similar chairs, a stone fireplace that served as the stove, and a few shelves nailed to the wall that held various cans of foodstuff. There was no window, the only light coming from the small fire and the doorway, thus accounting for the dimness.

Sam leaned the rifle against the wall and took up the coffee pot that sat on the hearth. He ladled water into it from a bucket and then added the ground coffee. He hung this on a metal arm that swung in and out of the fire and then poked the fire to more life with a stick. Turning to his guests, he saw them still standing. "Please sit down! The coffee will be ready soon. Perhaps you can tell me, while we wait, where Sheriff Watkins has gone that he needs stand-ins, and any other news from Coleville - - I haven't been in for almost a month now!"

As Heyes and Curry sat in the two chairs, the cowboy pulled up a crate to use as a chair. "So what's the news?"

"We've only been in Coleville two days so we don't know much," Heyes said.

"Well, what happened to Sheriff Watkins?"

"His wife is sick and he needed to take her to see a doctor in Cheyenne. He figgered it would be better to bring in outsiders as replacements."

"Probably a good idea," Sam replied, nodding thoughtfully. "Cole has his finger in everything and can usually make things go his way."

Heyes tactfully left that comment alone for the moment as he went on, "The Ladies Temperance Society is tryin' t'shut down the saloon, without much luck I might add."

"Hah! Yeah, I saw them the last time I was in town! That Mrs. Cuthbert is a self-righteous busybody, nothing like the Reverend - - you met him yet?"

Both sheriffs shook their heads and Heyes finished up with, "That's all that we've seen by way of happenings since we've been here."

Sam sighed. "Well, I'm almost out of supplies, so I guess I'll go in soon and remind myself why I prefer being out here with the horses!" He stood and checked the coffee, using a rag to lift the hot pot off the fire. "Would one of you grab the cups off that shelf there?"

Curry was closer so he stood and retrieved the tin cups, placing them on the table. Sam filled them and hung the pot back over the fire, but moving it off the direct heat so it wouldn't burn.

"Would you like to share our dinner, Sam?" Heyes offered.

"I'd be much obliged, thank you. The hunting's pretty good out here, and there's fish in the stream, but sometimes I get so busy with the horses that I forget."

Heyes took the sandwiches out of his saddlebags and handed one to each of the other two men, keeping one for himself. He watched with barely concealed amusement as his partner and the cowboy almost seemed to race to see who could get the first bite. "Reckon you got competition in the appetite area there, Thaddeus!"

"It's been a long time, and a long ride, since breakfast, Joshua!" Curry retorted around a mouthful.

They had finished their entire sandwiches by the time Heyes had just begun his second half and were eyeing the fourth still wrapped in its napkin. "Why don't you two split that one?" Heyes suggested.

"I think I've got some canned peaches around here, if you'd like," Sam said when they had all finished and were sipping their coffee.

"Nah, I'm good, thanks just the same," Curry replied, though he dearly loved canned peaches he didn't want to take food out of the other man's mouth.

"You've mentioned a couple of times workin' with the horses, Sam - - just what are you doin' with 'em, if y'don't mind my askin'?" Heyes' curiosity had been aroused.

"No, I don't mind. Since I quit my job with Mr. Cole I had to do something to keep body and soul together, so I've caught a few of the wild horses and I'm working on gentling them. Once they're ready to be ridden, I figure I'll see if I can sell 'em to the other ranchers."

"You know a lot about horses then?"

"Ought to. I grew up on a horse farm in Kentucky! My family has raised thoroughbreds there for four generations!"

"Quite a ways from thoroughbreds t'mustangs!" Curry put in.

"Yeah, well, Kentucky's awfully tame and I've got a bit of an itchy foot. I was the second son so I wasn't going to inherit, not to mention my pa and I didn't see much eye to eye, so I decided to try my luck out West. Fell in love with the wildness of it right away and couldn't go back to Kentucky for anything!"

"How long did you work for the Circle C?"

"Two years. Mr. Cole and I got along pretty well, he seemed to like the way I handled the horses, but I just couldn't stay on when he started killing the mustangs! Can't understand why there isn't enough for them and his beeves!"

"I was just saying the same thing to Joshua here as we were on our way here," the Kid agreed.

"Which brings us to the point of why we're here, Sam," Heyes began.

"And what's that?" The blue eyes narrowed a little in suspicion.

"We had a visit from Mr. Cole this mornin' an' he was demandin' that we come out here an' arrest you for destruction of property and horse thievin'!"

Sam's hand dropped to his holster, but the Kid's gun was in his hand before he had a chance to close his hand around his pistol grip. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Curry warned.

Stunned at the Kid's speed, Sam carefully brought his hand back up to the table, but he remained tensely alert.

"Now there ain't no need for this," the dark haired sheriff scolded. "I said he wanted us to arrest you, I didn't say we was gonna!"

Curry's sharp eyes noticed the slight relaxation of the cowboy's tension and he returned his gun to its holster.

"So why'd you come out here?" Suspicion was still heavy in the other's voice.

"We came out to try and reason with you, Sam. Cole doesn't have any proof right now that it's you that's cuttin' his fences and lettin' the horses go - - he's just goin' on the fact that you quit over the horses. Now a judge may just take his word for that, so I'd like you to consider that what you're doin' is gonna get you in deep trouble!" Heyes explained.

"I can't let him slaughter those wonderful animals!" Sam protested. "Besides, they don't belong to him! They're wild!"

"The law is gonna side with Cole, Sam - - he has the right to do whatever he wants with whatever's on his property!"

"But it's wrong! You ever seen a herd of mustangs running free?"

"As a matter of fact we have and we happen to agree with you, but whether you, me, or Thaddeus, disagrees with it don't change anything - - the law is the law." Heyes stated firmly.

"I can't quit what I'm doing," Sam said resolutely.

"Well, we ain't gonna arrest you unless Cole comes up with clear proof that it's you, but Cole's lookin' t'take care of you himself, so I'd highly recommend you stay off his property."

"Cole's got blood in his eye," Curry added. "I figger he'll try t'catch you in the act, shoot you, and deal with the judge after."

"You think Mr. Cole would kill me?"

"Not personally, maybe, but he'd look the other way if one of his boys did. Horse thieves are fair game in this part of the country," the gunslinger said.

"Well, I appreciate you two coming out here to warn me and I also appreciate that you've put yourselves on the wrong side of Mr. Cole by doing so, but I can't let him wipe out those wild horses!"

Heyes sighed heavily and shook his head. "Not only does he have an appetite like you, Thaddeus, he's also just as stubborn as you!"

"I happen t'think he's right, Joshua," Curry retorted.

"So do I, but that don't mean he ain't bein' stubborn an' unreasonable!"

Sam watched this interchange between the two sheriffs in confusion. "You two are about the oddest lawmen I've ever met!"

"That's cuz this is only our second day of bein' lawmen, so we're still gettin' the hang of the job," Heyes explained.

"We're just doin' a favor for a friend," Curry added.

"I guess we might as well head back t'town, Thaddeus."

"Would you like to see my horses before you go?" Sam offered.

"Sure, why not."

"Your corral is empty except for our horses. Where do you keep them?"

"Ah! Now that's a surprise, Sheriff Smith!" Sam grinned, the ends of his moustache lifting.

"Joshua, please, when someone calls me sheriff I want to look over my shoulder!" Heyes shuddered comically.

"And I'm Thaddeus," Curry said.

"Very well, Joshua, Thaddeus, follow me."

Sam picked up a battered, once upon a time white, cowboy hat, settled it firmly on his head, and led the two sheriffs outside. He led them past the corral and into a narrow crack in the ridge that was completely hidden from sight by brush. It gradually widened as they walked and suddenly opened into a fairly large open space sealed off by a rail fence. "There they are," Sam announced.

Heyes and Curry stifled their amazement and leaned on the top rail of the fence to study the small herd contained there. They counted ten, three chestnuts, four bays, a black, a gray, and a pinto. Sam whistled and a big bay with four white socks lifted his head from grazing and nickered, then, with a flick of his tail, he trotted up to the fence.

"This is Shiloh - - he's the first horse I broke for Mr. Cole - - and the best! When Mr. Cole offered me wages when I quit, I asked for Shiloh instead."

Both Heyes and Curry stroked neck of the silky animal. "He's a beauty alright," Curry said in admiration.

"The others are in various stages of domestication, but they'll all come at my whistle by the time I'm finished," the cowboy said with a hint of pride in his voice.

"Can you get in here without bein' seen?" Heyes asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Just in case Cole decides to come at you directly, which I don't think he will, but it's best to have a back up plan."

"Joshua's real big on back up plans, Sam," Curry explained.

"For good reason as you well know, Thaddeus. You will be careful, won't you, Sam? I'd really hate to have anything happen to you."

"I appreciate that, Joshua, and I'll be as careful as I possibly can."

"I guess that's all I can ask. We'd better get goin', Thaddeus, if we wanna be back in Coleville before dark."

"Pleasure meetin' you, Sam," the gunslinger said, putting out his hand.

"The same, Thaddeus, and I'm much obliged for your warning," Sam replied giving the hand a firm shake.

Heyes gripped the offered hand in his turn and they walked back through the crack to retrieve their saddlebags from the cabin and their horses from the corral. Sam leaned up against the railing as they mounted and gave a friendly wave as the two sheriffs trotted back the way they had come.

They hadn't ridden far when Kid said, "Seems an agreeable sort of fellow, don't he, Heyes?"

"Yeah, but don't get too fond of 'im, Kid, cuz with his stubbornness I don't think he's long for this world!"

"You really think Cole will kill 'im? A fine upstandin' citizen like him?"

"He may not tell his men specifically to kill him, he may just say 'take care of him' and Sam ends up dead just the same. If they catch Sam in the act of releasing horses they've caught, they'll be well within their rights to shoot him as a horse thief! Once Cole finds out we haven't arrested him I think he'll put all of his energy into catching Sam in the act!"

"Well, can't we do anything about it, Heyes?" Curry asked in concern.

"What would you suggest, Kid? Put a guard on Sam round the clock? No, we've done all we can do. Sam's been warned, so now it's up to him, though I don't hold out much hope for him bein' sensible!" Heyes shook his head sorrowfully.

"Don't seem right somehow, Heyes, I mean, we're sheriffs! Don't that give us some sort of power?"

"Only if somebody's breakin' the law, an' if Cole shoots in defense of his property no judge or jury in this part of the country is gonna convict him! Our hands are tied, Kid."

Curry fell silent, frowning, and they rode the rest of the way back to Coleville in silence.

The sun was setting when they walked their horses wearily into Coleville. Jimmy raced out of the livery stable and took their horses' reins as they dismounted and stretched their stiff muscles. "You're finally back!" he exclaimed. "Where'd you go?

"We were out visitin' Sam Adamson, Jimmy. D'you know him?" Heyes explained indulgently.

"Oh, yeah! He's always very nice to me when he comes in town. Is he in trouble?"

"Now, Jimmy, we can't talk about sheriff's business," he chided.

"Sorry, Mr. Smith." The boy's eyes dropped.

Heyes ruffled Jimmy's hair. "It's okay, Jimmy. Did anythin' happen around here while we were gone?"

"Nah, nothin' everhappens here!" groused the boy.

Both men chuckled remembering their own youthful desires for adventure and excitement. "When you get older, Jimmy, you'll appreciate the times when nothin' happens!" Curry predicted.

Otis limped out and took charge of the horses after the sheriffs had removed their saddlebags.

"How was school today, Jimmy?" Heyes asked with genuine interest.

Dark eyes lit up once again as he exclaimed, "It was great! Except," he amended, "When I had to sit with the little kids for reading lessons and then I had to knock Georgie Moody down at lunch cuz he was makin' fun of me! Miss Davenport scolded him and held me after school - - but Georgie didn't know I was gonna stay after anyway!"

"Well! Second day of school an' you've already had your first fight, huh?" Heyes asked sternly.

Bare feet shuffled self-consciously in the dirt of the stable yard. "It wasn't much of a fight really," he mumbled.

"You're right, Jimmy, it wasn't! Next time, if there is one, I don't wanna hear 'bout you pushin' anybody, you hear?" the dark sheriff scolded.

"Yes, sir." If possible Jimmy's head hung lower.

"Next time you give that Georgie, or whoever is givin' you a hard time, a black eye! Got that?"

Surprised dark eyes lifted to meet the matching eyes looking down at him. "Sir?"

"You do know how t'punch, don't ya?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then punch 'im! If you're gonna get in trouble for pushin' how much more y'gonna get into for blackin' his eye, eh?"

"You funnin' me, Mr. Smith?" Jimmy still couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"No, I ain't, Jimmy." Heyes squatted down to be able to look the boy directly in the eyes. "Bullies are only gonna stop if y'show y'ain't scared of 'em! Don't go punchin' girls or fellas smaller'n you or you'll be the bully then! Got it?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Smith, but . . ." he hesitated.

"But what?"

"But Reverend Cuthbert says the good book says t'turn the other cheek."

"That it does, Jimmy," Heyes agreed with a grin. "But you can ask Mr. Jones about turnin' the other cheek - - he's an expert!"

Curry had been listening in amusement to his partner advocating violence as an acceptable means for settling things, but not expecting to be dragged into the little lesson, now, put on the spot, he said, "I'm all for settlin' problems without violence, Jimmy, but there are some people you're probably gonna meet that just ain't gonna settle for anythin' less, so y'gotta be ready. Don't go lookin' for trouble, though!" he admonished.

"Oh, I won't, Mr. Jones! Well, I'd better get back to my chores and homework!"

"You wanna give me your dinner pail?"

"Oh, sure!"

The boy ran into the stable and was quickly back with the item. "See you in the morning, Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones!"

"Night, Jimmy," the two sheriffs chorused.

"Y'think y'oughta be encouragin' Jimmy t'fight, Joshua?" Curry asked as they walked to the restaurant for their supper.

"It ain't like I'm tellin' him to shoot somebody, Thaddeus, just punch 'em! Besides, who else is gonna take care of 'im, if he don't know how t'take care of himself? You an' I know very well how downright mean kids can be an' you an' Alfie had me to watch out for you. Jimmy ain't got anybody."

"You're probably right as usual."

"When are you gonna finally get that little fact through your head, Thaddeus?" joked Heyes.

After the exertions of their day, neither felt like lingering in the saloon for any length of time, so after they had done their final rounds, finding the sleepy little town to be sleepy, they took themselves to their hotel room and called it a day.

Chapter Five

"I had trouble sleepin' last night, Thaddeus," Heyes announced at breakfast the next morning. "So I was thinkin' while I was layin' there listenin' t'you sawin' logs . . ."

"Oh, no!" Curry groaned, rolling his eyes and letting the snoring comment slide. "Thinkin' about what, Joshua, or do I not wanna know?"

"Just cuz one of my nighttime plans gets you shot don't mean they're all bad!" Heyes feigned a hurt look.

"Well, at least you didn't wake me up t'tell me this time! What were you thinkin'?"

"About Sam Adamson. About him growin' up on a Kentucky horse farm. We could use somebody with his experience on our ranch. He'll know about proper breedin' methods an' a bunch of horse details we don't know we don't know!"

"You keep thinkin' like this, Joshua, we're gonna have the ranch fully stocked with hands before we even get any horses!" Curry snorted. "What about Mick? You haven't forgotten you offered her a partnership, have you?"

"No, but there's no tellin' if she's gonna show up! Besides, it can't hurt to have two knowledgeable people around if she does take my offer." He paused to sip his coffee before continuing. "Sam'd make a mighty good foreman, I'm thinkin', someone we can trust with the day t'day runnin' of the ranch - - should we have to leave for some reason!"

"Y'think somebody's gonna find us way up there, Joshua?"

"Until those amnesties come through I'm never gonna count us safe, Thaddeus, an' even when they do I'll only figger we're half-safe! People will find us if we've got good horses they wanna buy - - unless we only send 'em out t'market. Other things may make it necessary t'leave for some time, besides trouble, so it'd be good to have a trustworthy manager who can handle the business while we're away."

"Okay," Curry nodded. "I agree, but there's one problem with Sam that you seem t'be overlookin', Joshua."

"Which is?"

"If Cole's serious, he may be dead before we get a chance t'offer 'im the job!"

Heyes sighed. "Nah, I ain't overlookin' that little detail at all, Thaddeus. What we're gonna hafta do is find some way t'keep 'im alive!"

"How're we gonna do that? Cole didn't seem like the sort t'be makin' idle threats."

"No, but if he'd really wanted t'kill Sam, he'd've done it an' come t'us after the fact. I got the feelin' he really likes Sam, except for this little disagreement they're havin', an' if he saw another way out I think he'd take it."

"You got a plan, Joshua?"

"Not yet, but I'm workin' on it."

Friday passed pleasantly enough with no need of their services. Heyes entered the previous day's incident with Adam Cole and their visit with Sam Adamson in his journal and, to keep busy, Curry found a broom and swept the office, including the cells, of which there were four. They made their rounds, greeting those they met pleasantly and occasionally passing the time of day, then ate a relaxing dinner. As they stepped back outside, pleasantly full, they were hailed by the telegraph operator.

"Got a telegraph for you, sheriffs!" he called, hurrying up, a folded yellow paper in his hand.

"Why, thank you - - what's your name?" Heyes asked taking the telegraph from the man's hand.

"Mort Taylor, sheriff."

"Thank you, Mort, but should you be leavin' your post t'deliver this?"

"Oh, it's quite all right, sheriff, this is my scheduled dinner time – any telegraphs will be held for one half an hour until I am back on duty."

"A whole half an hour, huh?"

"Yes, indeed," the little man with the green visor said happily. "The main office is quite generous that way!"

"Well, don't let us keep you from your dinner, Mort! We'll probably have an answer to this one to send when you're back in your office."

"Very good, sir, I shall be there promptly at one o'clock!"

The sheriffs exchanged amused looks as the telegraph operator hurried into the restaurant to enjoy his leisurely half hour dinner.

Heyes opened the telegraph and scanned it quickly. "Brigitte says the house is finished and the furniture has been ordered or is being constructed. The barn will be finished by the middle of next week. She says the season is changing quickly and to hurry home as soon as we can. Oh, and Mary sends you her love."

"Can I read it?" Curry asked.

"Sure!" Heyes handed his partner the telegraph and smiled slightly when he heard the other's sigh as he finished.

"We ain't makin' any more stops after we leave here, are we, Joshua?" the boyish blond asked plaintively.

Heyes laughed out loud and slapped his friend on the shoulder. "No, Thaddeus, no stops after we leave here! C'mon, let's get back to the office."

At one o'clock they wandered down to the telegraph office where Heyes wrote out a brief telegraph suggesting a bunk house be built next and sending their assurance that they would delay no longer than absolutely necessary.

They entertained themselves with a checkers game they'd found tucked in a bottom drawer of the desk. They were tied in number of games won when children's happy voices announced the end of the school day. Knowing Jimmy was to spend an extra hour being tutored by Miss Davenport they were startled to look up and see the schoolmarm swishing into the office, a tightly furious look on her face.

The two men stood and Heyes said, "Good afternoon, Miss Davenport, to what do we owe this pleasure? Wasn't Jimmy going to be working with you this afternoon?"

"Jimmy is practicing his letters, Sheriff Smith, and it is Jimmy whom I've come to speak to you about," she replied grimly.

"Of course, Miss Davenport, would you like to take a seat?"

"No, I'll stand, thank you, and get straight to the point."

"Yes, ma'am." Heyes cast a quick look at Curry, who wore a distinctly amused look.

"Whatever possessed you, Sheriff Smith, to encourage Jimmy to fight?" she demanded indignantly.

"Ma'am? Did Jimmy get into a fight today?" Heyes put on his innocent look.

"Yes, he did! He gave Georgie Moody a black eye at recess! When I questioned him about it he said that you told him that he was to punch Georgie, or anyone else, who bullied him! Is that true?"

"Yes, ma'am, it is an' I'm glad t'hear he took my advice to heart!"

"Violence is not the way to solve a problem, Sheriff Smith!" the teacher exclaimed, outraged.

"What would you have had him do, Miss Davenport?"

"He should have come to me and I would have dealt with Georgie!"

"Ah!" Heyes replied, enlightened. "And by tomorrow Jimmy would've been marked as a sissy who hides behind the teacher's skirts and would've become everyone's target! I appreciate where you're comin' from, Miss Davenport, but you're lookin' at it from a woman's point of view an' what Jimmy needed was a man's advice."

"And, naturally, a man's advice is to resort to violence!"

"Miss Davenport, there are times when words can solve a problem . . ." the dark sheriff began patiently.

"An' believe me, ma'am, Joshua is a fine one for usin' words t'solve problems!" Curry interjected.

"But the only way t'stop a bully," Heyes went on. "Is to stand up to 'im, show 'im y'ain't scared, an' if it takes a black eye or a bloody nose, well, then that's what ya gotta do!"

"I beg to differ . . ." the teacher began only to be interrupted.

"You can beg t'differ all you want, Miss Davenport, but I'm speakin' from experience! Thaddeus an' I are orphans ourselves an' we know what it takes t'get respect from bullies, or from them that think they're better than you cuz they have a family!" Bitterness was plain in Heyes' voice and the teacher was taken aback.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know - - I'm sorry . . ."

"Nothin' t'be sorry about, we've done all right for ourselves, but it wasn't always easy an' if it's possible to ease the way for Jimmy, well, then, that's what we're gonna do!"

Her indignation having been deflated, Miss Davenport found herself on the defensive. "Well, what am I to tell Georgie's father? I'm certain he's going to be angry."

"You tell him exactly why Jimmy gave his son a black eye an' if he thinks his son's behavior was proper then, by all means, send 'im to me an' I'll have a word with 'im!"

She made one last attempt, "But aren't you just teaching Jimmy to be a bully himself?"

"No, ma'am, just to defend himself when necessary. Thaddeus an' me don't believe in startin' trouble, but we do believe in finishin' it if someone else is dead set on startin' it!"

She sighed. "Very well, I will do my best with Mr. Moody."

"Do you see Mr. Moody as the bullyin' type?"

"No, he seems to be a reasonable man."

"Then I don't think you'll have any trouble with 'im - - most likely Georgie will get his hide tanned when the reason for the fight is made clear to 'im!"

"I'm not sure I agree with your position, Sheriff Smith, but I do understand it and I thank you for taking a fatherly interest in Jimmy."

"He's a good boy," Heyes stated.

"Yes, yes, he is. Good day, Sheriff Smith, Sheriff Jones."

She swept out the door a little less confidently than she'd come in and Curry turned a broad grin on his partner. "You may just be branded a bad influence on the youth of Coleville, Heyes!"

"Maybe," the other replied, sinking back into his chair with relief. "But I'm right an' Jimmy'll be better off in the long run! I'll bet he don't have any more fights the rest of the time we're here!"

"Well, I ain't gonna take that bet, Joshua, cuz it's a sucker bet if there ever was one!"

"Wise decision."

"I'm gettin' a little restless, how 'bout we take a walk?" the gunslinger suggested.

"Sure, my legs could use a stretch." Heyes stood and stretched his back before settling his hat on his head. He noticed his partner checking that his six-gun was properly set in its holster - - not too tight. "Expectin' trouble, Thaddeus?"

"Nope, but it's the trouble y'ain't expectin' that'll kill ya!"

"You'd make a good real sheriff, Thaddeus," Heyes commented.

Blue eyes rolled. "Ain't no need t'insult me, Joshua! But I guess the skills are similar - - just different in how a body uses 'em. Probably why it was easy for Lom t'switch. You don't think you'd make a good one, too?"

"Nah, I'd go crazy waitin' around for somethin' t'happen! My skills work better on the other side of the law - - thinkin' an' plannin' up the stuff that the sheriff's waitin' for!" He chuckled.

They strolled down the boardwalk, alert, but relaxed since Coleville was a quiet little town.

It was too early for Mrs. Cuthbert and the Ladies' Temperance Society to be out so all was quiet in front of the saloon. They peered over the doors and saw a lone customer leaning up against the bar. Gus nodded to them as he polished his glasses.

They continued on.

"Stage is comin' in, Joshua," Curry commented as he noted the billow of dust towards the outskirts of town.

"How 'bout we go see who's on it, Thaddeus?"

"After you, Joshua."

They took up a position near enough to the stage depot to have a good view and leaned casually on a pole that held up the roof over the boardwalk.

In a flurry of dust and jingling harness the coach pulled up to the stage depot, its driver jamming the brake on with his foot. "Coleville!" he called.

The stage door opened and one passenger stepped out. He was a dapper man, dressed in a fine black suit, a crimson brocade vest, and a pristine white shirt with ruffles down the front and peeking out of the cuffs of his jacket. A spotless flat-crowned black hat topped it all off. He reached up to take the carpetbag the driver handed him.

The sheriffs eyed the newcomer with interest. "Looks like we've got ourselves a professional gambler in town, Thaddeus."

"Sure looks that way."

"We'll hafta keep a close eye on 'im - - no problem if he's straight, but if he's not there could be trouble."

"Sounds like we'll be spendin' some time in the saloon tonight."

"This job can be such drudgery!" Heyes joked.

As they watched, the gambler crossed the street to the hotel. Once he disappeared inside, they turned their steps back to their office.

"Mr. Smith! Mr. Jones!" a young voice called and running footsteps came up from behind.

They turned and waited until Jimmy caught up. A quick once over showed no marks from the fight. "It don't look like Georgie got his share of the licks in!" Curry said.

"Nah!" the boy replied scornfully. "I punched him in the eye like you said Mr. Smith and he sat down and started to cry!"

"Guess nobody'd ever stood up to 'im before. Most bullies are cowards - - they crumble when somebody fights back," the darker sheriff explained.

"Miss Davenport was really mad, though! She said, 'whatever possessed you to hit Georgie?'"

The former outlaws tried to smother grins at the boy's imitation of his teacher, to no avail.

"I told her Georgie was making fun of me again and that you had told me to punch him in the eye if he ever did it again! Did I do wrong, Mr. Smith? I didn't mean to get you in trouble, too!"

Heyes squatted down so he could look eye-to-eye with the boy. "No, you did exactly the right thing, Jimmy. Tellin' the truth is always the best thing t'do. Y'may get in trouble, but it'll be less trouble than if y'lie. 'Sides, the day I can't handle a school teacher is the day I retire!"

Jimmy sighed with relief. "Oh, good! I was so worried she'd scold you!"

"Oh, she tried, but I managed t'convince her t'see things my way!" He winked at the awestruck boy.

"Mr. Smith is known for his silver tongue, Jimmy," Curry interjected. "That's why he ain't any kind of a good shot with his gun - - he don't ever need t'shoot it!"

"I can shoot just fine, thank you, Thaddeus!" Heyes protested indignantly.

"Yeah, you just keep tellin' yourself that, Joshua!"

Jimmy laughed at their teasing. "Well, I gotta get goin' on my chores! See you later! And thanks, Mr. Smith!"

"You're welcome, Jimmy."

The boy ran off a few steps before he stopped suddenly and spun around, running back. "Almost forgot again!" He handed Heyes his dinner pail and raced away.

Heyes straightened and turned to see his partner shaking his head, a bemused smile on his face. "What?" he demanded.

"This is a different side of you, Joshua, one I ain't never seen before! It's kind of sweet!"

"Shut up!" Heyes growled and stalked away. Curry's smile widened and he followed after his partner.

Friday night began the influx of people into town from the outlying areas - - not as many as Saturday night would see, but respectable nonetheless. So when Heyes and Curry entered the saloon that evening, after having evaded Mrs. Cuthbert who was back exhorting the sinners to repentance, it was filled with smoke and noisy activity. They found space at the bar where they could observe for a few moments.

There were two poker games in progress, one of them presided over by the gambler, who, of course, had the largest pile of money in front of him. Several others had sufficient, but one didn't look like he'd last another hand.

"Looks like a seat'll be openin' up there right quick, Thaddeus," Heyes noted quietly.

"You thinkin' of sittin' in?"

"What better way t'find out if he's straight?"

"He ain't gonna play crooked with a lawman in the game," Curry answered doubtfully.

Heyes plucked the star off his vest and tucked it into one of the vest's pockets. "He ain't gonna know unless it becomes necessary."

"I know you can handle yourself in a poker game, Joshua, but I'll be right here if'n you need me."

"I depend on it, Thaddeus!" Heyes grinned.

The decidedly unhappy loser got up from the table and stalked out of the saloon - - too broke to even buy a beer.

Heyes waited a moment to not appear too eager and then sauntered over to the table. "Mind if I join you?" he queried.

The dandified gambler looked the former outlaw up and down before replying, "By all means, if you can afford it."

"Oh, I think I can," Heyes replied softly with a half-smile.

He took the empty chair and under the pretext of taking out his money, he took a good look now that he was closer to the gambler, who was still dressed in the black suit, although he had removed the hat and so Heyes could get a good look at his face.

He was extremely pale which wasn't surprising given his occupation - - a gambler tended to sleep through the sunny days and woke to spend the night in dimly lit saloons. His hair was as black as night and slicked back, curling slightly over his collar and around his ears. A thin black moustache decorated his upper lip. There was nothing remarkable about his features except that his eyes were so light of a brown as to be nearly yellow. The hands that shuffled the deck were finely formed, with long, delicate fingers, the nails of which had obviously been carefully manicured. Although not openly armed, Heyes could see the bulge of a derringer in his vest pocket.

So, he noted to himself, maybe a dangerous dandy. Though, maybe not. Having been on the receiving end of cheating accusations, Heyes was well aware of a gambler's need to be able to defend himself.

He looked around the table and none of the other players were known to him so his being the sheriff shouldn't slip out. "I like to know who I may be losing my hard earned money to," he announced. "I'm Joshua Smith." He looked at the cowboy to his left.

"Johnny," was the short answer.

"Marty."

"Dave."

"Bert."

"Walt."

"Bill."

It came around to the gambler, who had paused in his manipulation of the cards to frown at the roll call of casual introductions. Faced with seven curious faces he had no choice but to reply. "My name is Clarence Mandeville," he said in a fluid Southern drawl that hinted at upper class breeding.

"Excellent!" Heyes exclaimed jovially. "What's the game?"

"Five card stud," the gambler declared.

Heyes noted that straights and flushes hadn't been declared. He was pretty sure that a professional gambler would know his Hoyle and he wondered if he hoped to profit off any player who was ignorant of the rule, as Big Mac had with Heyes, not that that would be cheating, but he decided to head him off at the pass. "Straights and flushes?" he asked.

Clarence Mandeville shot him a penetrating look, but Heyes just maintained an innocent expression. "No, no straights or flushes."

"What d'ya mean?" demanded Bill belligerently.

"It's rule in Hoyle," Heyes explained. "Straights and flushes aren't allowed in stud poker unless declared at the beginning - - I just wanted to make sure." He shrugged.

"I ain't never heard that rule!"

"Well, now you have. Let's get on with the game!"

For the first few hands, Heyes played cautiously, watching the gambler's moves, analyzing his bets, and definitely keeping an eye on his hands when he dealt. He won one hand and lost two without seeing any evidence of cheating so he changed his strategy and played a more knowledgeable game, allowing the gambler to know he had serious competition. He won the next three hands in a row and saw Mandeville's eyebrows draw down and the strange yellow eyes narrowed as they studied his opponent - - it was his deal again.

Heyes watched the elegant hands shuffle and deal without seeming to and he could see no unusual card manipulations. When Johnny won the hand, he was fairly certain Mandeville was playing a straight game, even though he won the next two handily.

He yawned loudly and said, "Well, boys, it's way past my bedtime! I think I'm gonna call it a night!" He stood and gathered up his money. "It's been a pleasure. Mr. Mandeville, perhaps we'll play again."

"A rematch would give me great pleasure, Mr. Smith," the gambler replied courteously.

With a brief salute, Heyes turned and returned to his place at the bar. "Whiskey, Gus!" He took a deep swallow of the fiery liquid, aware of his partner's impatient glare.

"Well?" Curry growled when Heyes set his glass on the bar.

"He's playing it straight, Thaddeus. He's very good so he may not need to cheat."

"As good as you?"

"Maybe," Heyes replied vaguely.

"So what's our next move?"

"Tomorrow we introduce ourselves as the sheriffs that way he'll be put on notice that we're watchin' 'im." He tossed off the last of his whiskey and said, "I'm ready t'call it a night. How 'bout you?"

"Lead the way."

Chapter Six

Saturdays transformed Coleville. It was the day folks from the outlying areas come to town for all the needs they couldn't meet on their own: supplies, ironwork repairs at the blacksmith, sending correspondence, making orders, getting a haircut and, for some, a bath, catching up on both news and gossip, and last, but far from least, relaxation and recreation.

Having had years of experience at participating in Saturday night revelries, Heyes and Curry knew they would need to be on their toes. They decided to double their rounds and, in general, be more visible. However, they expected little would happen until sundown.

They hadn't been in their office more than a half hour before Jimmy came pelting in.

"You ever walk anywhere, Jimmy?" Curry growled teasingly as the door banged against the wall before swinging closed.

"Sorry, Mr. Jones," the boy replied, not in the least repentant. "I came t'see if there was anything I could do for you today."

"Have you had breakfast yet?" Heyes asked.

"I had a biscuit."

Curry snorted, "That ain't breakfast! Is that all you eat every mornin'?"

"I'm used to it."

"Well, that don't make it right! You go over to the café right now and have a real breakfast before you do anythin' else!" The blond sheriff tossed the boy a shiny coin, which he caught adeptly.

"Wow! A dollar!" Jimmy breathed in awe.

"You do as he says, Jimmy," Heyes agreed. "An' when you're done what you can do for us is keep your eyes an' ears open for any trouble an' come tell us, okay?"

"Yes, sir!"

He pulled open the door and was halfway out when Curry called, "An' you go to the café every mornin' an' your breakfast'll be waitin'! Got it?"

"Yes, sir!"

Heyes looked at his partner in great amusement. "Just what is it with you an' breakfast?"

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Joshua! How many hours is there between supper an' breakfast, eight? Ten? More? That's a long time t'go without eatin'! That can make a body mighty cranky!"

"Well, I sure know it makes you cranky, Thaddeus! I suspect Joe Briggs hasn't forgotten either!" laughed the dark sheriff.

"In case you've forgotten, Joshua, I shot Briggs before supper!"

"Ah! Well, since every meal is as important to you, Thaddeus, it's easy to get them confused!"

They patrolled the streets, making themselves visible, greeting the curious newcomers and explaining who they were and why they were there so many times that it was with great relief that dinnertime came around and they could retreat to the relative quiet of the café, though it, too, was doing a booming business. The last table available was in the back corner, away from their usual view of the street and its goings on, but they took it anyway. As soon as Sara was able she got to them and took their orders.

Midway through their meal they heard the door slam open and weren't surprised to see Jimmy, looking excited, run into the dining room. He looked around frantically for a moment before spotting the two sheriffs in the corner. "Sheriff Smith! Sheriff Jones! Come quick! Mrs. Cuthbert is choppin' up the saloon with a hatchet!"

Exchanging startled looks, the two sheriffs stood quickly, wiped their mouths and threw the napkins on the table before weaving between the other tables as fast as possible and breaking into a run as soon as they were out the door.

From the street they could hear shouts and solid thunks as the hatchet struck wood and the scene, as they ran through the swinging doors, was chaos. The redoubtable Mrs. Cuthbert, dressed all in black, her bonnet askew, hacked at the bar with all her strength - - there were already several gashes in the polished wood - - while Gus, his hands raised, pleaded with her to stop and the saloon girls shrieked. The customers had all cleared out of the way, standing back against the wall, some cheering her on, some taking bets, and others just happily sipping their drinks and watching the show.

Spotting the sheriffs, Gus shouted, "Don't just stand there - - stop her!"

"What do you suggest we do, Joshua? I can't shoot her!" Curry said.

"Let me see if I can reason with her," Heyes replied and then raised his voice to be heard over the noise, "Mrs. Cuthbert! Put the hatchet down, please, Mrs. Cuthbert!"

The wild-eyed woman turned to the sheriffs and shouted, "If the law won't shut down this abomination, this den of iniquity, then I shall destroy it myself!" She then swung back around and thwacked the hatchet into the bar again.

"That worked well, Joshua," Curry said sarcastically.

"All right, we'll have to do this the hard way. Back me up!"

"What . . .?" the gunslinger began, but his partner had already darted away.

Heyes had almost reached the woman when she swung around, the wicked edge of the hatchet only missing cutting into the acting sheriff by his sudden jump backwards! The momentum kept her spinning, though, and once the hatchet was safely past, Heyes leaped in and wrapped his arms around the woman, pinning her arms to her sides! She was strong and struggled frantically and Heyes yelled at his partner, "Get the hatchet!"

Curry didn't hesitate but nevertheless approached cautiously as her hand wasn't entirely immobilized, the hand holding the hatchet still chopping it up and down. Timing it carefully, he quickly grabbed her wrist with one hand as it came up and twisted the weapon out of her hand with his other.

"Repent! Repent!" screamed the reverend's wife while still struggling. "Or you shall surely burn in the fires of hell!"

"Mrs. Cuthbert, please, calm down!" Heyes panted finding it difficult to hold on to the squirming woman while attempting to not be any more inappropriate in his hold than he was, which wasn't easy as she was a well-endowed woman.

"What're we gonna do with 'er now, Joshua?" the Kid asked.

"Take her to jail, Thaddeus, what else?"

"Jail?" Mrs. Cuthbert's attention had been caught and she stood still. "You're taking me to jail?"

"Yes, ma'am, you're under arrest for destruction of private property, disturbin' the peace, an' assault with a deadly weapon!" Heyes told her.

"This is outrageous!"

"Yes, ma'am," Heyes agreed. "Will you come along peacefully, or do you wish to create even more of a public spectacle?"

"Well, I never!" she sputtered.

"Yes, ma'am, but there's always a first time!"

"Unhand me; I can walk on my own!"

Heyes let her go and she smoothed her gown and straightened her bonnet. "My husband will hear of this and have your badge!"

"Yes, ma'am, let's go."

Her nose in the air, the woman strode between the two sheriffs as if she were the queen of England.

A crowd had been attracted by the unusual sounds coming from the saloon and their expressions ranged from shock to amusement as the sheriffs and the reverend's wife came out of the saloon. Jimmy stood to one side of the saloon doors, his eyes as wide as saucers. Heyes caught sight of him and gestured him over.

"Jimmy, go fetch the reverend, please. Bring him to our office."

"Right away, Mr. Smith!"

The three continued down the street to the sheriff's office, some of the more curious of the crowd following them. Inside the jail, Heyes escorted the woman to the first cell and opened the door.

"Surely you don't intend to lock me in a cell!" Mrs. Cuthbert said indignantly.

"Yes, ma'am, that's the usual procedure after an arrest."

"But I am no common criminal!"

"You may not be common, but you have committed several crimes and so you will be locked up!" Heyes said firmly and walked her all the way into the cell, then stepped out and shut the door behind him. Curry handed him the keys and he locked it.

Mrs. Cuthbert stood in the middle of the cell for a moment, in total shock, and then, to both sheriffs' surprise, she burst into tears and collapsed on the narrow cot.

"You sure this was the right thing to do, Joshua?" Curry said quietly, uncomfortable with the sobs coming from the cell.

"What choice did we have, Thaddeus? Should we have let her walk out of the saloon scot-free after what she done just cuz she's the reverend's wife? Don't the law apply to everyone equally?"

"Well, you an' I both know, Joshua, that some's more equal than others."

"Not if I'm the sheriff!"

"Well, I'm behind you, Joshua, but I sure hope you know what you're doin'!" Curry replied with a shake of his head. "And before I forget - - don't ever scare me like that again!"

"Scare you like what?" his partner replied innocently.

"Goin' after a hatchet wieldin' woman bare handed is what! She nearly gutted you!" The gunslinger nearly ground his teeth in frustration.

"I admit it wasn't one of my best thought out plans, but there wasn't a whole lot of time t'think about it. Worked, though."

"You were lucky, Joshua!"

"Well, I've never complained 'bout havin' luck on my side!" Heyes grinned impishly.

"Just don't push it, okay?"

"I'll do my best, Thaddeus. Now how 'bout some coffee t'settle my nerves? Whiskey'd be better, but I figure I'm gonna need all my wits about me t'deal with the Reverend Cuthbert!"

Mrs. Cuthbert's sobs gradually faded to soft sniffles by the time footsteps were heard outside. A soft knock was heard on the door and Curry stepped forward to open it. "No need to knock," he told the man outside. "Come in."

"Thank you," said the man outside and stepped into the sheriff's office. "I am Reverend Cuthbert."

Whatever assumptions Heyes and Curry had made about the reverend based on their knowledge of Mrs. Cuthbert, they found them to be wrong. The reverend was a tall, dignified man of middling years with steel gray hair, and a piercing, honest gaze. He wore the typical dark suit of a churchman and held his hat in his hands. He glanced over at his wife sniffling in the cell and a look of profound sorrow crossed his face.

"I'm Joshua Smith and this is Thaddeus Jones, Reverend. I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances." Heyes shook the reverend's hand gravely.

"As am I. I must apologize for my wife's behavior - - she has been under a great deal of stress lately and just yesterday she received tragic news that I believe has sparked this incident," the reverend began.

"Won't you have a seat, sir?" Curry interrupted, indicating the chair in front of the sheriff's desk.

"Why yes, thank you." He sat and continued, "You see, Thelma's father was a man with a great love of drink and as a result her formative years were ones of uncertainty and insecurity. His untimely death as a result of drink left her mother to finish raising her and her younger brother in poverty. That childhood left her with terrible emotional scars and a rabid hatred of liquor of any kind, which was only reinforced tenfold when her beloved brother also turned to drink. She began the Ladies Temperance Society as a way to educate people as to the evils of drink, but unfortunately her passion let her carry it further, to the badgering of people in the streets going about their business. Perhaps I should have stepped in and stopped it then, but I didn't think there was any more damage that she could do. I was wrong. Yesterday she received a telegram informing her of her brother's untimely death. It seems that in his drunken state he stepped in front of stagecoach and was trampled to death! Thelma was devastated as you may expect and took to her bed in grief and that's where I thought she was still until Jimmy came to inform me that she had been taken to jail! He wouldn't tell me precisely what my wife has done only that I should wait and hear it from you."

At the end of this long speech there was a pregnant pause while the acting sheriffs digested this background information. Then Heyes said, "Mrs. Cuthbert took a hatchet to the bar in the saloon while calling on everyone to repent. I tried to reason with her, to get her to put the hatchet down, but she refused. I'm afraid I had to physically restrain her while my partner disarmed her."

"She took a swing at 'im while she was at it!" Curry exclaimed indignantly.

Shocked, Reverend Cuthbert directed his piercing gaze at the dark-haired lawman. "You weren't hurt, were you?"

"No, I jumped back in time, but Gus's bar took some pretty serious damage."

"I see," the reverend said gravely. "Is Gus pressing charges against my wife?"

Heyes shook his head. "We haven't gotten that far, reverend. Our first job was to get her out of the situation and somewhere safe."

"I am more than willing to reimburse Gus for all of the damages my wife caused, if he would be willing to forego pressing charges. I can assure you that no such incident will happen again."

"We'll have to see what Gus has to say. Thaddeus, would you mind going and asking Gus if he wants to press charges, or if he would be satisfied with the damages being paid?"

"Sure, Joshua, I'll be right back." Curry put his hat back on and left the office.

"While we wait, may I speak with my wife, Sheriff Smith?"

"Of course." Heyes picked up the keys and unlocked the cell door. Mrs. Cuthbert still sat as she had on the cot, her face buried in her hands. As he watched, Reverend Cuthbert sat beside her and gently put his arm around her shoulders, speaking softly into her ear. Heyes turned his back and gave them a measure of privacy.

The first thing Curry noticed when he entered the saloon was how quickly things had gotten back to normal - - except for the stark gashes in the bar one wouldn't know anything untoward had happened. He stepped up to the bar at the far end closest to the doors and gestured for Gus to come down, which he did as soon as he had finished serving a customer.

In a quiet voice to not be overheard by the customers, Curry asked, "Do you want to press charges against Mrs. Cuthbert, Gus, or would you be willing to accept payment for damages?"

Was that fear that flickered across the bartender's face, the sheriff wondered, as Gus replied, "No, no charges! If she pays for the damages I would be happy."

"What would you consider fair?"

Gus thought for a moment and said, "Well, I suppose I could get the cuts sanded out and a new finish for maybe one hundred dollars."

"I think you're bein' too easy goin' there, Gus! Where'd you get this bar?"

"I special ordered it from New York."

"So this wasn't cheap?"

"No."

"An' even with them gouges sanded smooth it still won't look the same, will it?"

"No."

"Then I think you oughta charge say one hundred dollars per gouge," Curry suggested.

Aghast, Gus exclaimed, "I could get a new bar for that!"

"Yeah, well, that's kinda the point, isn't it? Mrs. Cuthbert has permanently damaged a valuable piece of your establishment, and you are, out of the kindness of your heart, saving her from the disgrace of a trial, so it's only fair that she should pay the cost of replacing the bar - - whether you choose to replace it, or repair it, is up to you. If you let her off too easy, she ain't gonna take what she did too seriously, an' other folks won't either," the temporary sheriff urged. He moved to where he could see the cuts and counted them. "There are five gouges, that would make her damages five hundred dollars."

Gus thought deeply again and then sighed. "Very well, Sheriff Jones, five hundred dollars."

"I'll go inform Sheriff Smith and Reverend Cuthbert."

As he neared the Sheriff's Office, Curry noticed a growing crowd outside the closed door. Getting nearer he saw that it was a crowd completely made up of women, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Since they were blocking his way, he politely tipped his hat and said, "Excuse me, ladies." The women turned dark looks on him, but moved enough that he could sidle past them and squeeze through the door.

"Have you noticed there's a mob of women outside the door, Joshua?" he asked his partner.

"Kinda hard t'miss, Thaddeus," Heyes replied. "What did Gus say?"

"He said no charges and agreed to five hundred dollars for damages."

"All right, let's inform the reverend."

The sheriffs approached the cell where Reverend Cuthbert still comforted his wife. He looked up at them expectantly.

"Gus has agreed that if you pay five hundred dollars in damages, he won't press charges," Heyes informed the couple.

Even in the subdued light of the cell they could see the man's face pale at the amount, but he said, "Very well. That is quite a bit more money than we have, but we will raise it somehow. May I take Thelma home now?"

"Yes, of course, she's free to go, but we will have to discuss the payment of damages further another day."

"Thank you, Sheriff Smith and Sheriff Jones." He helped his wife to her feet, keeping his arm solicitously around her shoulders, she keeping her head down.

At that moment the door burst open and an imposing woman, wearing an elegant purple gown and an angry expression, stormed in followed closely by others of the female mob. "How dare you arrest Mrs. Cuthbert, sheriff!" she exclaimed. "I shall have you removed from office immediately!"

Heyes, with Curry close at his shoulder, stood to face the woman, keeping his expression mild. "And who might you be, ma'am?"

"I am Mrs. Isabelle Hoffman, the mayor's wife!" replied the woman, puffing up and glaring at the two sheriffs.

"Well, Mrs. Hoffman, we have every right to arrest Mrs. Cuthbert since she committed a crime - - several in fact. As it so happens, however, she is being released right now having agreed to pay damages, so it isn't necessary to throw your, or your husband's, weight around!" Heyes' eyes had darkened in anger at the threat, but he kept his voice level while delivering his own subtle insult.

The large woman's mouth tightened and she drew breath to further blast the man opposing her, but before she could utter another word Reverend Cuthbert cut in, "Really, Mrs. Hoffman, this is unnecessary as the situation has been resolved. We shall make reparations with good cheer, but now I really must take Thelma home as it has been a most trying day for her."

Mrs. Hoffman's expression softened as she noticed the much-subdued leader of the Ladies' Temperance Society. "Indeed, I'm certain it has been! Come, my dear, let's get you home where I shall fix you a soothing cup of tea!" She and the other ladies surrounded the reverend and his wife and with many cluckings and exclamations of concern, they were ushered out of the Sheriff's Office.

Heyes let out his breath in a deep sigh of relief and leaned back against the desk. Curry looked equally relieved to see the door close on the backs of the angry mob of women. "I think I'd rather face a posse than that woman again!"

"You got that right, Joshua!" Curry agreed and then paused before changing the subject. "You know, I think there's something funny about Gus."

"What do you mean, Thaddeus?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure I saw fear on his face when I mentioned pressing charges against Mrs. Cuthbert! Now why do you think he might be scared of that?"

"I'm sure I don't know, but maybe we'll have a chance to find out."

Jimmy's face peeked in the door cautiously before fully entering the office. "Did I do right, Mr. Smith?" he asked hesitantly. "Mrs. Cuthbert ain't going to jail, is she?"

Heyes smiled reassuringly. "You did exactly right, Jimmy, an' no, Mrs. Cuthbert ain't goin' t'jail. She's gotta pay for the damages t'Gus's place, though."

The boy looked relieved. "That's good - - she's always been nice to me."

"Have you had dinner?"

"Mr. Jenkins gave me an apple - - that was just before I saw Mrs. Cuthbert go into the saloon."

"All right, you go get yourself somethin' t'eat before you go back t'keepin' your eyes open for us, okay? Mr. Jones figures you need three meals a day so you can keep growin'!" He handed the boy a coin.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Smith! Thanks, Mr. Jones!"

"Y'gotta make me the softie, Joshua?" Curry snorted.

"Well, I do have a reputation to maintain, Thaddeus!"

"I see," the other replied wryly.

Changing the subject, Heyes asked, "Did you happen t'see if our fancy gambler was in the saloon already?"

"As a matter of fact I did, an' he was."

"Why don't we go introduce ourselves then? Maybe after that we can find out what Gus's problem is before he gets too busy tonight."

"Do we really need t'know what his problem is, Joshua?" Curry's voice was almost plaintive.

"It's our job t'know what goes on in this town, Thaddeus," Heyes admonished.

"Yeah, but whatever Gus's problem is, he's had it a while an' he ain't causin' any trouble so I don't see how it's any of our business! Didn't you ever hear about curiosity killin' th'cat?"

"Might've, but I also heard cats have nine lives."

"I figure we've used up at least eight of those in all these years! Why y'gotta go lookin' for trouble?"

"I'm just tryin' t'do a thorough job in Sheriff Watkins' absence. What if Coleville is harborin' a desperate outlaw?"

"It is, Joshua, two in fact - - us!"

"C'mon!" Heyes growled playfully and dragged his partner out of the office.

They garnered some quizzical looks and whispers from the people they passed on their way back to the saloon, which amused them more than anything else.

The saloon was still relatively quiet at this time of the afternoon, although there was a respectable amount of customers. None of the serious games of chance would start until later in the evening, but there were a couple of desultory poker games going on.

Heyes and Curry stood just inside the doors adjusting to the dimness and getting the lay of the land. They spotted Clarence Mandeville sitting alone at a corner table playing solitaire. He looked up from his cards as the sheriffs approached his table. His eyes flicked to the shiny stars on their chests and if he was surprised he disguised it well. "Good afternoon, Sheriff Smith," he greeted.

"Afternoon, Mr. Mandeville," Heyes replied pleasantly. "I'd like you t'meet my partner, Sheriff Jones."

"Sheriff," the gambler nodded at Curry. "So you were checking me out last night, is that it?"

"Just doin' my job - - protectin' the town."

Mandeville nodded his understanding. "And you were satisfied?"

"You play an honest game an' as long as it stays that way you're welcome t'stay as long as you like." The tone of warning was unmistakable in his voice.

"I have no need to cheat, gentlemen," the gambler replied calmly, but a slight flush colored his cheeks.

"Our protection extends to you as well, Mr. Mandeville. If anyone accuses you of cheatin', I'll know you run an honest game so I can back you up."

"I'm quite capable of defending myself, Sheriff."

"I'm sure you are, but I prefer that handy derringer you have in your vest pocket remain there for the duration of your stay. You see, we're only temporary sheriffs while the real one is away and it'd complicate our lives somethin' awful if we had t'deal with shootings an' dead bodies an' trials an' such! We'd like Coleville t'stay the quiet little town it is at least until after we're gone!"

"Well, gentlemen, I can assure you that that is exactly what I'd like, too!"

"So we're on the same side. That's good t'know. I wish you a profitable stay, Mr. Mandeville," Heyes said with a light salute.

"You're welcome to join my game anytime," the gambler invited.

"May just take you up on that."

Curry nodded to the gambler and followed his partner to the bar.

"Two beers, Gus," Heyes ordered.

"We're drinkin' on duty, Joshua?" Curry asked.

"I don't think one beer is gonna impair us that much, do you, Thaddeus?" his partner scoffed.

"Nah, I guess not."

Gus set the foamy drinks in front of them and turned to walk away only to turn back when Heyes said, "Got a minute t'satisfy my curiosity, Gus?"

"About what?" the bartender asked suspiciously.

"Well, I've just never met a pacifist before an' I'm kinda curious how you happened t'become one."

The big Swede shrugged. "I just don't like violence."

"I would think some experience regarding violence would be needed, or else why would anyone even bother t'think about whether he's a pacifist or not?" Heyes continued to prod.

"Maybe so." Gus replied shortly, looking down the bar as if hoping there was a customer to draw him away from the interrogation.

"Sheriff Jones here said you looked plumb scared when he mentioned pressing charges against Mrs. Cuthbert. Is there some reason you'd want to avoid dealin' with the law, Gus?

A look of desperation crossed Gus's face and then it dissolved to one of resignation. "You see how big I am?"

Both sheriffs nodded.

"Well, add a very bad temper to the size and there is bound to be trouble. When I was young back in Sweden I had a terrible temper and I had been in more than a few fights by the time I was eighteen. One night after I'd gotten a few drinks in me someone made me lose my temper - - it's been so long now I don't even remember the reason - - and we began to fight. I was filled with rage and I beat him - - I beat him to death! When I realized what I had done I was afraid and so I ran! I found a ship coming to America and paid my passage by working and I vowed I would never lose my temper again! I would never raise a hand in anger against another man! Eventually I worked my way out West, figuring no one would ever find me in the wilderness, started this saloon and I have kept both my promises - - even at the risk of being called a coward!" He paused and looked down at his large hands that gripped the edge of the bar so hard his knuckles were white. With a conscious effort he relaxed them and said, "I have never told anyone that before. I suppose you will arrest me now?"

"Arrest you? Why would we wanna do that?" Heyes exclaimed.

"Because I am a murderer!" Gus said in a low voice so no one else could hear. "And you are lawmen! It is your job!"

The dark-haired sheriff sighed. "How long ago did this happen, Gus?"

"Thirty years now."

"And this happened in Sweden, you say?"

"Yes."

"Well, I happen t'know our jurisdiction doesn't extend to Sweden! So we'll just keep it between us, okay?"

Gus's jaw dropped. "But - - but why?"

"Everybody makes mistakes, Gus, an' I happen t'think you've paid long enough for yours! Don't you, Thaddeus?"

"More than enough, Joshua," Curry nodded.

Gus went limp with relief, gripping the edge of the bar again to keep himself upright. "I still don't understand, but thank you! I can't tell you what a relief it is just to have told someone!"

"They say confession is good for the soul," Heyes agreed. He swallowed the last of his beer. "Ready, Thaddeus?"

Curry followed suit and set his empty mug on the bar. "Ready. See you later, Gus."

"Later, Gus," Heyes repeated.

"Yeah, see you later, sheriffs," the bartender replied still in a tone of disbelief. Fortunately, he was soon distracted by a customer demanding service.

"Well, I think we've earned our five dollars a day today, Thaddeus," Heyes commented outside.

"I hope we don't have t'keep earning it, Joshua!" Curry replied fervently.

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean!" the gunslinger growled.

Heyes laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I do!"

The rest of Saturday was anti-climactic. It seemed like everyone was on their best behavior after the earlier events of the day - - disagreements went no further than a few heated words - - so there was no further call on the new sheriffs, who finally called it a night out of sheer boredom.

Chapter Seven

Sunday was a day of rest and recuperation - - rest for the citizens of Coleville and recuperation for those who had overindulged the night before.

Heyes, not being one to sleep late even after a late night, was up at his usual time. The café didn't open until nine on Sundays so he wandered over to the Sheriff's Office, lit a fire in the stove, and set a pot of coffee to brew. He sat and added the previous day's events to his record of their tenure as sheriffs and it crossed his mind to wonder if this was the type of thing that Lom had to deal with day to day. How could he stand it - - long stretches of boredom followed by short bursts of rapid-fire activities? He wondered which he preferred? Heyes thought, personally, he would go crazy if he had to do this job longer than two weeks! Then again, there was something to be said for facing a crisis and finding a solution - - much like he'd had to do as leader of the Devil's Hole Gang. Between jobs it had been necessary to maintain order and discipline, which hadn't been easy with the disparate personalities and temperaments of the outlaws. There had also been the need to constantly reaffirm his leadership, especially on those occasions Wheat had taken it into his head that he'd've made a better leader.

He interrupted his musing to pour a cup of the now ready coffee. He took it to the doorway where he leaned up against the door jam and gazed out at the still morning. He wondered how the gang was doing and if he and the Kid would ever see them again. Wheat, Kyle, Hank - - a body didn't ride with people for so many years without developing some attachment and he missed the camaraderie. This thought set him to thinking of Lobo and his lonely grave under the tree. Heyes had never lost a member of the gang while he'd been in charge, a fact he'd taken pride in, but just because Lobo'd been killed under someone else's watch didn't make it hurt any less.

Thoughts of Lobo brought him around to the current situation with Sam Adamson. Could he live with himself having another death on his conscience - - this one even more his responsibility since he had sworn to maintain law and order in Coleville while acting as sheriff? How was he to prevent it, though? Sam was breaking the law so Heyes and the Kid should be siding with Cole. Was it their outlaw pasts that drew them to Sam's side? He didn't have the answers, which frustrated him, but he knew he needed to find one fast because he had a strong feeling that Sam's time was quickly running out.

He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time - - still more than an hour before the café opened. He decided to mosey down to the livery stable and check on their horses - - maybe give them a good brushing since sometimes losing himself in repetitive actions allowed his brain free rein to wander and find creative answers to problems.

Nickers and curious heads poking over stall doors greeted his entrance into the quiet stable. He gave each a friendly pat as he passed and then stopped to stroke the silky neck of his black mare. She had been his mount for a while now and had proven herself an able horse, with both speed and endurance in abundance. He picked up a brush and stepped into the stall with her.

He ran a critical eye over her and found no fault in her care as far as grooming went. He ran his hands down her legs and picked up her feet, frowning at the shoes. "We'll need to get you some new shoes before we leave, girl," he said, patting her affectionately on the rump.

"I made sure they got extra special care, Mr. Smith," Jimmy said as his tousled head peered over the stall door.

"Mornin', Jimmy!" Heyes greeted with a smile. "Yup, looks like y'done a good job on 'em. Much obliged."

"I usually got 'em fed by now, but I guess I overslept."

"I'm sure they'll forgive you this once," Heyes grinned. "Need any help?"

"Oh, no, sir, but thanks anyway!"

Jimmy scurried off to his morning duties and Heyes applied the brush to the already shiny coat of the mare.

He had moved on to the equally shiny coat of the Kid's bay gelding, with no answers forthcoming, and the horses were all munching their morning hay when the sound of a wagon rattling down the street caught his attention. He slipped out of the stall, making sure it was securely latched, and strode quickly to the door of the stable.

The wagon was escorted by six grim faced cowboys and as it passed Heyes noticed the riderless horse tied to the back and the body of a man sprawled in the bed of the wagon. A terrible sense of dread washed over him.

"Jimmy," he called. "Go wake up Mr. Jones and tell 'im t'meet me in the office right away! Then go wake up the doctor!" He waited just long enough to see Jimmy take off on the run before he began his own run down the street in the wake of the wagon.

The wagon rattled to a stop in front of the Sheriff's Office, Heyes running up right behind.

"What's goin' on here?" he demanded somewhat breathlessly.

"You the sheriff?" an older, grim-faced cowboy asked.

"That's what the badge says - - I'm Sheriff Smith."

"Gil Garrett, foreman for the Circle C."

"Who y'got in the wagon?" Heyes thought he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"Sam Adamson - - caught 'im red-handed cuttin' fence last night - - tryin' t'let our horses loose!"

"Is he alive?"

"Was when we loaded 'im up. He ain't shot or nothin' - - we just gave 'im a message from Mr. Cole."

"D'you mind if I look?"

"Go ahead."

Heyes used the wagon wheel as a step to climb into the wagon bed. Sam showed no sign of life as the sheriff hunkered down by his shoulder and leaned forward to listen to his chest. To his great relief he heard the faint beat of his heart. He turned the unconscious man's face toward him and gasped at the bloody mess that rendered it unrecognizable! Both eyes were black and swollen completely shut, or would be if he were conscious, blood from a gash on his forehead and another on his cheek had streamed down his face and neck and soaked into his shirt. His shirt had been torn open, probably in the struggle, and Heyes could see bruises and abrasions covering his torso. He glared angrily up at the foreman. "It's only luck y'didn't kill 'im!"

"More luck than he deserves messin' with Mr. Cole!" the wagon driver growled and spat tobacco juice to the ground.

"That'll do, Deke!" the foreman said. "Now we've caught 'im, you lock 'im up, sheriff! Mr. Cole'll be in t'press charges tomorrow."

"I'm gonna need some help gettin' 'im down," Heyes stated grimly.

"Johnny, give 'im a hand. Bob, untie Sam's horse an' hitch it to the rail there," ordered Garrett.

The cowboy, Johnny, took hold of Sam's legs while Heyes lifted him at the shoulders and they carefully maneuvered him to the edge of the wagon where Heyes noticed he would have to jump down. He hesitated, concerned that the sharp jolt would further injure the wrangler. At that moment, Kid Curry raced up.

"Thaddeus, take Sam's shoulders!" Heyes called.

Clueless to what had happened, Curry nevertheless leaped to help, gently taking the injured man. "Where d'ya want 'im, Joshua?"

"Let's get 'im in one of the cells - - Jimmy's gone for the doctor!"

Heyes jumped lightly to the ground and hurried ahead to open first the office door and then the closest cell door. Curry and the Circle C cowboy laid Sam gently on the cot. Johnny paused a moment, looking sadly at the unconscious wrangler. "I'm sure sorry 'bout this," he said quietly. "Please take good care of 'im." The he turned away and rejoined his companions. In a billow of dust and rattling wagon wheels, the Circle C crew raced away.

Jimmy ran in breathlessly. "I got the doctor, Mr. Smith! Is it Mr. Adamson? I recognize his horse outside." He caught sight of the man's face and stopped dead, a shocked, "Oh!" escaping his lips.

Heyes squatted down and looked the boy in the eyes. "Yeah, it's Sam - - they beat 'im up pretty bad, but he's gonna be okay, all right?"

"O- okay," came the tremulous reply. "What can I do to help?"

"Take his horse down to the stable an' see he's taken care of good, cuz he'll be needin' 'im."

"Yes, sir."

Jimmy ran out nearly running down the older man carrying a black bag who was just coming in. "I'm Dr. Milburn," the newcomer proclaimed. "Jimmy says I've a patient here."

"Yeah, Doc, over here," Curry replied and stepped aside to make room.

Dr. Milburn stepped into the cell and, hardened as he was to the variety of injuries a doctor on the frontier was likely to see, he still exclaimed, "Merciful Heaven! What happened to him?"

"Circle C boys pistol-whipped 'im, Doc," Heyes replied, the anger in his voice barely suppressed.

"Well, the why I suppose is your business and you'll take care of it," the medical man sighed. "Move aside so I can examine the boy. I'm going to need a basin of warm water and a cloth so I can clean this blood off him."

"I'll get the water started, Thaddeus," Heyes said. "How 'bout goin' back to our room and bringin' the towels?"

"On it," Curry said tersely and strode out quickly.

Heyes took the coffee pot out back and dumped the rest of the coffee and then rinsed it thoroughly before adding clean water from the pump. He stoked the fire back into a fierce blaze and set the coffee pot back on the heat.

By this time Dr. Milburn had bared Sam's torso and was tsking softly to himself as he took in the mass of bruises that covered practically every square inch of skin from his shoulders to his waist. His fingers felt gently down Sam's ribcage on both sides, shaking his head and tsking even louder.

"Bad, Doc?" Heyes asked anxiously.

"Well, he's got at least two broken ribs and probably several more are cracked. I'm quite concerned that he may have a concussion, but with his eyes swollen shut like that I can't examine his pupils. Internal bleeding is a possibility here in his stomach area and I won't be surprised either if his kidneys are bruised which we'll find out about if he passes blood in his urine." He picked up Sam's right hand and looked carefully at the knuckles. "No bruising on his knuckles - - looks like he didn't fight back."

"He wasn't given a chance to, Doc. Is he gonna be all right?"

"Hard to say right now. I'll know more when he regains consciousness - - if he regains consciousness - - head injuries can be tricky things."

Curry strode in with towels, the shaving basin, and the jar of Brigitte's ointment. "How is he?"

"Broken an' cracked ribs, possible concussion an' internal bleeding," Heyes replied tersely. "Doc's not even sure he's gonna wake up."

"Cole could've at least killed 'im clean!" the gunslinger growled.

"He's not dead yet, gentlemen," the doctor intervened. "And I'll do my best to make sure he doesn't. Is that water warm yet?"

Called back to duty, Heyes took the coffee pot of hot water and filled the basin while Curry cut a towel into smaller pieces. Then Heyes set the basin on a small stool that the Kid set next to the doctor, then he fetched a chair for the doctor to sit on.

Firmly, but gently, Dr. Milburn washed the blood off Sam's face, exposing the jagged edges of the gashes. "I'm going to need to put some stitches in those," he commented as he continued the washing.

The water in the basin was completely red when he finished. From his bag he took a small bottle of whiskey, which he used as an antiseptic. The burning pain must've penetrated Sam's brain because he moaned softly and tried to move his head away. "That's a good sign," Dr. Milburn said, "But I'm going to need one of you to hold his head still while I do the stitching if he's going to be waking up."

"I'll do it, Doc," Heyes volunteered. "Thaddeus, why don't you go get your breakfast in the meantime?"

"What about you?"

"Maybe you could bring me a plate when you're finished?"

"All right, but I'll be eatin' fast!"

Heyes smiled affectionately. "You do that, Thaddeus."

The doctor threaded a needle with black thread and Heyes squatted behind the injured man, holding his head steady, while Dr. Milburn took neat stitches that drew the torn flesh back together. Several more times Sam moaned and once his leg pulled up slightly as if he would've liked to run away from the discomfort, but he never fully regained consciousness.

"Now," the doctor said when he was finished. "If he doesn't tear those stitches loose the scars will be barely visible!"

"How 'bout puttin' some of this on 'em, Doc?" Heyes asked, holding out the jar.

"What's that?"

"It's an herbal ointment that prevents infection and speeds healin' - - I've seen it work."

Dr. Milburn opened the jar and sniffed suspiciously at the ointment. "Well, it smells safe enough. You've used it, you say?"

"Yeah, more'n I'd like to've," the sheriff admitted.

"Can't hurt, I suppose." He daubed the ointment over the stitches and then wiped his hands on a remnant of towel. "I didn't bring enough bandages to bind those ribs, so I'll need to go back to my office. I'd appreciate it if you'd stay close to him and keep an eye on him, Sheriff Smith."

"Sure, Doc, I ain't goin' anywhere," Heyes assured him.

"Before I go, why don't you empty the basin and refill it with cool water, then you could soak a cloth in the cool water and lay it over those swollen eyes; it may help bring the swelling down. Too bad it's not winter, some snow would be very helpful. Well, there's no help for that!"

Heyes took the basin of bloody water out back and threw it down the privy, then rinsed it thoroughly and pumped it full of clean water. He took it back inside and sat in the chair that the doctor had vacated. He wet one of the pieces of towel and laid it across the black eyes.

"That's the way," the doctor said approvingly. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Heyes could have told him that he'd had plenty of experience tending to various injuries, but he kept silent and the doctor left. He sighed deeply as he watched the once again still figure on the cot. He hadn't thought Cole would make his move so soon and this was the result. He should've found a way earlier to prevent it! He sighed again.

Curry, armed with a covered plate of food, and Dr. Milburn, with his hands full of bandages, came back at the same time.

"I will need one of you to hold the patient up while I wrap these bandages," the doctor said.

"I'll do it," Curry volunteered before Heyes could open his mouth. "You sit down an' eat your breakfast before it gets even colder, Joshua!"

Heyes saw the steely stubborn look in his partner's eyes and decided it was better to humor him in this instance.

Curry took Heyes' place at Sam's head. "What do I do?"

"Lift his shoulders gently - - we don't want to disturb his ribs any more than absolutely necessary - - and hold him steady," Dr. Milburn instructed.

With great care, Curry eased Sam up just far enough that the doctor could wind the linen strips snugly around the damaged ribs.

For a moment Sam struggled weakly and groaned through split, swollen lips, "No - - no more - - please - - stop," before subsiding into limp unconsciousness again.

Dr. Milburn tsked again as he tied the bandages off securely. "I don't know this boy well - - I've only seen him around now and then - - but he seemed a good-natured young man, certainly not deserving of this kind of mistreatment!"

"He's been tryin' t'protect the wild horses from bein' killed by Cole an' his men!" Curry's voice was hard with tightly controlled anger.

"Just for that?" the doctor exclaimed.

"Well, it required trespassin' on the Circle C, cuttin' a few fences, an' Cole's callin' Sam a horse thief for lettin' the wild horses go that the Circle C boys had rounded up."

"I've known Adam Cole a good many years," Dr. Milburn mused. "I've known him to be ambitious and somewhat ruthless when it comes to getting what he wants, but I've never seen him go this far before. I guess it goes to show that you never really know a person as well as you think you do." He stood and began to pack his black bag. "Well, I've done all I can for Sam right now. The fact that he roused for that brief moment gives me hope for his recovery. Keep him warm and when he wakes up make sure he stays in bed for a minimum of two days, though I doubt he'll feel much like getting up for at least that. Keep cool cloths on those eyes to bring the swelling down more quickly. I'll be back to check on him tomorrow, though if there is any kind of crisis be sure to call me right away!"

"Thanks, Doc," Curry said fervently, shaking the doctor's hand.

"Yeah, Doc, thanks," Heyes echoed, standing to add his own handshake.

"Think nothing of it, sheriffs - - let the city council think of it when I send them my bill!" With a wink and a small smile he left.

"Now what, Joshua?" Curry asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Cole's forced our hand - - now we'll hafta arrest Sam!"

"Not necessarily, Thaddeus," Heyes replied thoughtfully. "I think I may be able to convince Mr. Cole that there's a better way - - our way."

"You think so?" Curry was doubtful.

"All I think Cole cares about is that Sam is no longer interfering with Cole's plans for the horses. He could've killed 'im if he'd really wanted to!" Heyes sighed deeply. "I must be losin' my edge, Thaddeus, to not have come up with a way t'prevent this!"

"Joshua, if you're gonna start broodin' on this bein' your fault, I'm gonna hafta flatten ya!"

"No need t'get proddy, Thaddeus."

"I wouldn't have to if you'd be a bit more reasonable."

"Reasonable?" Heyes puffed up indignantly.

"Mr. Smith? Mr. Jones? Is everything okay?" Jimmy asked hesitantly from the doorway.

"Of course, Jimmy, why wouldn't it be?" Heyes answered with a smile.

"It sounded like you were fighting."

"Fighting? Us? Nah, never happen!" the dark outlaw denied.

"But Mr. Jones said he was gonna flatten you!" The boy still didn't look sure. "Don't that mean he's mad at you?"

Heyes shot a look at his partner who said, "Nah, I ain't mad, Jimmy, it's just Mr. Smith gets some fool ideas in his head sometimes an' somebody's gotta shake 'em out!"

"Oh. Okay."

"Did you get Sam's horse settled?" Heyes changed the subject.

"Oh, yes! He's a beauty! Is Mr. Adamson better yet?"

"No, he's still sleepin'. It's gonna take some time for him to be better. Dr. Milburn fixed 'im up real good, though."

"The doctor told me my ma was sleeping, too, but she never woke up," Jimmy said, his voice quivering and his eyes brimming with tears.

Heyes gripped the boy's shoulders and knelt on one knee in front of him, staring intently into the eyes so like his own. "Is that what you're worried about, Jimmy? That Sam's dyin', or dead an' we ain't tellin' you?"

Unable to speak over the lump in his throat, Jimmy nodded.

"Well, he ain't! C'mon, I'll show you!"

Heyes led the boy over to the cot where Sam still lay unconscious, cleaner and bandaged, but still ghastly to look at. Trembling, Jimmy pressed himself tightly against the tall sheriff, hardly daring to look at the injured man.

"You know how t'tell if a fella's still alive, Jimmy?" Heyes asked gently.

"He's breathing," the boy whispered.

"How can you tell that?

"His chest goes up and down."

"Very good. Can you see Sam's chest goin' up an' down?"

Jimmy watched for a moment, "I think so."

"Well, he's got all those bandages wrapped around 'im that makes it a little harder. What's another way to tell?"

Jimmy shook his head that he didn't know.

"You can hear his heart beatin', like this." Heyes bent down and laid his ear against Sam's chest. "Yup, it's beatin' all right. You wanna hear it?" At Jimmy's nod he beckoned the youngster over. He lifted him up and set his feet on the stool that had held the basin. "Now just lay your ear on his chest like I did and listen."

Hesitantly the boy followed the instructions, listening intently. Suddenly his eyes lit up and a smile split his face. "I can hear it!" he exclaimed.

"There you see? He's gonna be okay, Jimmy, I promise!"

Relief was plainly written all over the boy's face, to be replace quickly by a questioning frown. "But why do you have him in a cell? Did you arrest him? Did he do something bad?"

"No, we didn't arrest 'im, but he made Mr. Cole kinda mad so we're keepin' 'im in this cell for his own protection. He ain't in any shape to defend himself right now, but he'll be able t'leave when he's better."

Jimmy heaved a big sigh of relief. "That's good cuz he was always nice and I'd hate for him to go to jail!"

Heyes tousled the boy's dark hair. "You worry too much, Jimmy, you'll make yourself sick! How about doin' me a favor an' runnin' those dishes back over to the café?"

"Sure, Mr. Smith!" Jimmy ran to the desk and gathered up the dishes, making ready to make a mad dash out of the office.

"Mind you don't break any!" Heyes admonished.

"I won't, Mr. Smith, don't worry!" Jimmy assured the older man, nevertheless running pell mell out of the office by some miracle not dropping anything.

Heyes laughed and looked over at Curry who was shaking his head with a wry smile.

"What?" Heyes demanded.

"You give good advice, Joshua, maybe you oughta take it yourself!"

"I don't worry, Thaddeus," Heyes retorted. "I study a problem from all angles in order to make a plan - - it just looks like worryin' t'those who don't know any better!"

Curry laughed. "Okay, Joshua, you win! I give up!"

"And about time, too!" Heyes replied with his own chuckle.

"So what do we do now?" Curry asked.

"Not much we can do except take care of Sam as best we can an' wait 'til Mr. Cole shows up tomorrow. I figure one of us should sleep here every night at least until Sam's able t'move about without help."

"All right. Do we flip a coin t'see who stays first?"

"No, I'll stay here tonight. If Sam's gonna have any trouble it's likely t'be tonight an' I can get by on less sleep than you, Thaddeus."

"You're right about that, Joshua, though I don't know how!"

A groan brought their attention back to the object of their discussion.

"Is he awake?" Curry asked softly.

Heyes removed the damp cloth from Sam's eyes before replying, "It's hard t'know with his eyes so swollen. Sam? Sam, you awake?" There was no response and Heyes sighed. "Guess not." He rewet the cloth in the cool water and replaced it over Sam's eyes. "Swellin' looks like it's comin' down a little on that right eye."

Curry shook his head. "Can't say when I've seen anybody beat this bad."

"Can't say as I ever want to again," Heyes agreed.

The two acting sheriffs were happy to find that the quiet little town of Coleville became a near ghost town on Sunday. Most folks stayed close to home after Sunday services. Gus had the saloon open, but might as well not have bothered for all the business he got. After doing their rounds once, Heyes and Curry figured if anyone needed a sheriff they knew where the office was. No one did and they passed the day in peaceful boredom, their only concern being Sam's continuing unconsciousness.

In the deep darkness and silence of the late night hours, Heyes lay unsleeping, his hands behind his head, on the cot in the cell adjoining Sam's. In this quiet the smallest sound was easily distinguished, and so it was that he heard the cot in Sam's cell creak, followed by a curse that turned into a groan. He was on his feet instantly and at the injured man's side.

"Sam?" he queried softly.

"Who is it? Where am I?" Sam rasped.

"It's Joshua Smith an' you're in jail at the moment. Are you thirsty?"

"Very."

Heyes picked up a cup of water that he had left nearby in case of need. "Okay, I'm going to raise your head and your head only cuz you've got a couple a broken ribs an' the doc don't want you movin' much." He put his hand under Sam's head and helped him raise it to meet the rim of the tin cup.

Sam drained the cup thirstily and then lay back. "How'd I get here?" he asked.

"Cole's foreman and a few of his boys brought you in early yesterday mornin'. You've been unconscious all day an' we've been very concerned."

"So concerned that you've got me locked in jail?" There was a note of bitterness in the wrangler's voice.

"Now don't go jumpin' t'conclusions, Sam!" Heyes chided. "Y'ain't been arrested! This was the closest bed t'get you to so the doc could fix you up an' you'll be safe here should Cole decide t'send somebody t'finish the job!"

"He wouldn't do that," the wrangler said. "Cole isn't a bad man, just short-sighted an' stubborn."

Heyes' eyebrows rose. "Surprised t'hear you defend him, Sam, after this beating!"

"Yeah, crazy, isn't it? Y'got some more water?"

"Of course!" Heyes refilled the cup an again helped Sam lift his head to drink.

"Thanks, Joshua. So what's next?"

"Cole's comin' in t'press charges tomorrow, or, rather, later today. Y'still wanna be so forgivin'?"

"I knew what I was doing, Joshua, and took my chances."

"Well, I've got a plan that might keep you out of jail - - I'll tell you about it if it works."

"I doubt Cole's going to be as forgiving as I am."

"Maybe not, but I'm hopin' he can be reasoned with. What you need t'do is relax an' get well. Can you open either of your eyes?" Heyes watched carefully as Sam struggled to raise his eyelids; the right opened a slit. "Can you see anythin'?"

"Dim light, a big blur, that's all."

"Hmm, well, they're still pretty swollen. I expect the right'll be open all the way soon so you'll be able t'see again. I'm gonna put a cool cloth on 'em again - - it seems t'be workin'."

Heyes noticed, as he rewet the cloth and wrung it out, that Sam seemed to be struggling to say something. He placed the cloth on the black eyes and waited patiently.

"Joshua?" Sam began hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"I've got a big favor to ask of you and Thaddeus, but I don't have any right to ask it."

"Well, spit it out, man! If we can do it, we will."

"It's my horses. It's obvious I'm going to be here a while, jail or no jail, just healing and I don't think they'll be able to survive however long it'll be. Could you and Thaddeus go and bring them in to town for me? It's a lot to ask, I know, but it shouldn't be too hard since they're all trained to a halter and lead rope - - they're hardly wild at all anymore!" He said the last in one breath and then lay gasping, the bandages around his chest not allowing for deep breaths.

"Take it easy, Sam, you're going to hurt yourself more!" Heyes exclaimed, placing a firm hand on the man's shoulder.

"I'm sorry! It's just so many of the mustangs have died already and I just couldn't stand it if mine died of negligence!"

"Will they be okay until Tuesday, do you think? We can't run out with Cole comin' tomorrow, but I expect we could go Tuesday."

"Yes, I'm sure they'll be fine until then! You'll really go? I'll be forever in your and Thaddeus' debt if you do this!" Sam blindly raised a hand and Heyes grasped it firmly.

"I'll hafta bounce it off Thaddeus' head first, but he's awful soft-hearted so I expect he won't have a problem with it. Now you need to get some more rest - - you've talked more than you should. We'll talk about it more later. If you need anything, I'll be sleepin' in the next cell."

"Oh, sorry to have put you to so much trouble, Joshua," Sam sounded abashed.

"No trouble at all, Sam. Get some rest."

Chapter Eight

The sound of someone moving quietly around in the sheriff's office brought Heyes fully awake. He couldn't see who it was, and not wanting to take any chances, he drew his six-gun from its holster hanging by his head and sat up carefully so as to not make the cot squeak. On stockinged feet he moved stealthily out of the cell door. He now had a clear view of the sheriff's desk, but still saw no one. He padded past the cell where Sam still slept and stepped quickly where he could see the entire office, aiming his gun in the direction of the sounds, and calling out, "Don't move!" while at the same time recognizing the curly blond feeding wood into the stove. "Thaddeus!" he exclaimed. "I nearly shot you! What're you doin' skulkin' around in here?"

Kid Curry straightened and turned to face his partner, an amused gleam in his bright blue eyes. "Mighty jumpy there, Joshua! An' I ain't skulkin', I'm tryin' t'be polite an' not wake you two up while I get some coffee started!"

"Well, what're you doin' up so early anyway? It's what, six thirty?"

"Nearly seven," Curry corrected. "It ain't much fun sleepin' late without you there complainin'."

"Huh!" Heyes grunted and padded back to stamp into his boots and buckle on his gunbelt.

"How'd it go last night?" the gunslinger asked when his partner was back.

"Fine. Sam woke up thirsty around two. He was able to hold a coherent conversation so I think he's gonna be okay."

"That's good news!" Curry exclaimed. "I was gettin' pretty worried when he stayed unconscious so long!"

"You an' me both. You have breakfast already?"

"Nah, I came t'make you a pot of coffee first."

"Mighty considerate of you, Thaddeus, but if you wait while I check on Sam I think we can go together."

"I'll come in with you."

Heyes swung the cell door open and at its squeak Sam said, "That you, Joshua?"

"Yeah, it's me an' Thaddeus, Sam. How you feelin'?"

"Mighty sore. Hurts every time I breathe!"

"That'll be those broken an' cracked ribs I told you about. Let's check those eyes." Heyes removed the cloth and was pleased to see the swelling was down significantly.

Sam opened them, or tried anyway - - the right opened nearly all the way while the left was just a slit. "Hey, I can see you - - a bit blurry but better than nothing at all!"

"That's great, Sam! Your face is still one big ugly bruise, though. If you got a lady friend, I'd suggest she not come visit you for a few days!"

"That bad, huh? Good thing I don't have a lady friend then!" the wrangler replied wryly.

"Any chance of getting some help to the privy?"

"I think a trip out to the privy is a bit much this early, but we'll gladly help you up to use the pot," Heyes replied.

"I guess that'll have to do."

Very carefully, with exaggerated slowness, the two sheriffs eased the injured man to his feet so he could complete his necessities and then lowered him back on to the cot. Just that little bit of exertion left the wrangler perspiring and panting with pain. "Water!" he gasped when he could finally speak.

Curry filled the cup this time and eased Sam up enough to drain it.

"You up to eatin' anything?" Heyes asked.

"I was feeling hungry before standing up," Sam replied still somewhat breathlessly. "I expect I could eat a little something."

"Good, you need to build up your strength. Thaddeus an' I are gonna go across to the café an' when we come back we'll bring you some breakfast. In the meantime you stay put!"

"I don't expect I've got any other options!" the wrangler said, his mustache curling up in a twisted smile.

"I'm gonna lock the cell door and the office door, not t'keep you in, but t'keep everybody else out since I don't know when Cole's gonna get here. You think you'll be all right on your own for a little bit?"

"Sure, I'll be fine."

"All right, we won't be long. I'll mention your favor t'Thaddeus while we eat."

"Thanks, Joshua."

"Mornin', boys!" Sara greeted them as they took their accustomed table in the café. "Back to eating together, I see. I thought you must've had a falling out or something when you kept eating separately yesterday!"

"Sometimes it seems like I'm eatin' alone even when I'm not for all the conversation I get out of Thaddeus there!" Heyes quipped back. Curry refused to rise to the bait simply taking a sip of the hot coffee Sara had poured. "Seriously, though, we have an injured guest over at the jail an' we'll need to take some breakfast over to 'im when we're finished.

"Guest? Is that what you call prisoners these days?"

"He really isn't a prisoner! Sam Adamson had a run in with Mr. Cole's men over the mustangs an' they brought 'im in to us."

Sara's eyes widened and she gasped, "Sam? Is he all right?"

"He's beat up pretty bad, but he's gonna be okay, though he won't be much t'look at for a while!"

"That's good!" the waitress said in relief. "Though I wouldn't have been too surprised if you'd told me he'd been killed! Everybody at one time or another has tried to talk him out of this crusade of his, but he's just too darn stubborn to listen!"

"Sounds like you might've been sweet on 'im, Sara!" Heyes teased.

"And you might be right, Joshua! He's awful good looking, well-mannered, sweet, hardworking - - looked like he had a bright future with Mr. Cole until he took this strange notion of saving the mustangs into his head! Around here a body doesn't have a future if Mr. Cole's against you, and a girl's got to look at a young man's prospects, not just his pretty face."

"You sound like a real practical woman, Sara," Thaddeus decided to add his two cents.

"Life isn't a fairy tale, you learn that pretty quick out here!"

"So nobody's gonna have a broken heart if we take Sam with us when our job here is done?"

"No, but more power to you if you can drag him away from those horses he loves so much!" she said with a disbelieving laugh.

"Well, it's just an idea at the moment - - Sam's not up to thinkin' much beyond mendin' an' Mr. Cole is an obstacle to be dealt with also. But we will be needin' meals for Sam as long as he's our guest - - this mornin' maybe some soft scrambled eggs an' a biscuit."

Sara nodded. "I can have that ready for you when you're finished. Will it be the usual for you two?" At the two sheriff's agreement, she hurried away to get their orders in and wait on the other customers who were beginning to trickle in.

They sat quietly sipping their coffee for several minutes, Heyes seeming to be lost in thought. Curry, who was usually quite content without chatter, finally broke the silence. "So what's this favor you were talkin' about to Sam?"

"Hmm?" Heyes shook his head slightly as he was called back to reality. "Oh, right! Sam's concerned about his horses an' asked if we could go out there an' bring 'em in to town. I told him we couldn't go today what with Mr. Cole comin' an all, but that maybe we could tomorrow. I told him I had to ask you first, though you'd probably agree easily since you're awfully soft-hearted!"

Curry rolled his eyes in disgust. "There you go makin' me out to be the softie again! Have you ever considered that you're ruinin' my reputation?"

"Oh, well then if your so concerned about that I'll tell Sam you said no, no matter that those poor horses won't have any food or water . . ." Heyes let his voice fade away.

"I ain't sayin' no, Joshua!" Curry exclaimed indignantly. "Of course we'll go get the horses! Can't leave 'em out there t'die!"

"So you are soft-hearted!" his partner said triumphantly.

"Joshua . . ." Curry began in a warning tone only to be interrupted by the arrival of their food.

"Eat up, Thaddeus," Heyes said, wielding his own fork. "You'll feel less grumpy on a full stomach!"

"I ain't grumpy, Joshua!" the blond retorted in a grumpy voice, but turned his attention to his food anyway knowing he was going to always lose in a battle of wits with his partner.

Heyes grinned and applied himself to his own breakfast.

True to her word, Sara brought a covered dish with a meal for Sam along with Jimmy's dinner pail just as Heyes and Curry finished wiping their plates clean.

"I've told the cook to make some soup for Sam's dinner and supper," she told them.

"Thanks a lot, Sara."

"You're welcome. You just make sure he takes care of himself, okay?"

Heyes could've sworn he heard a catch in her voice, but he tactfully ignored it and said, "We'll do our best, you can count on that."

They made the short walk back to their office in short order and as Heyes unlocked the door and swung it open they were shocked to see Sam half-sitting, his back against the wall, his head leaning back against it with his eyes closed as he drew in ragged breaths.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?" Heyes exclaimed angrily.

Sam's right eye opened and he gasped, "You said Cole was coming and I'll be damned if he's going to see me flat on my back and helpless!"

"Well, I can sure see how everybody's right 'bout how stubborn you are! I guess we can add proud to that, too!" The dark eyed sheriff set the covered plate down with a clatter and opened the cell door. "Long as you're up an' actin' like you ain't been beat near to death, you can just feed yourself! Thaddeus, would you finish makin' that coffee you started a while ago while I put some pillows behind this mule's back?"

"Sure thing, Joshua." Thaddeus turned to his task trying to hide a grin at Heyes' fierce mother hen being turned on someone else besides himself. He'd had to bear with his partner's nursing often enough to know it was better to stay out of his way!

Heyes took a pillow out of one of the other cells and combined the two pillows to give Sam's back some support. He retrieved the plate and placed it carefully on the injured man's lap. "Sara went to a lot of trouble so I expect you to eat every bite!" he growled.

"I'll do my best," Sam assured him.

"Huh!" Heyes grunted and went to sit behind the desk, pretending to lose himself in paperwork.

Slowly and carefully, Sam lifted each forkful of eggs to his mouth, chewing just as carefully as he found his jaw to be as sore as the rest of his body. "Thanks," he said to Curry as the blond sheriff brought him a cup of coffee. "Joshua always this cranky?"

"Well, he's only had one cup of coffee so far this mornin' an' he takes his nursin' to heart. He'd take it personal if you took a sudden turn for the worse!" Curry explained. "I've felt the sharp edge of his tongue often enough myself! Just means he cares."

"If he cared any more I expect I'd have a few more bruises!" Sam said wryly.

"Nah, he ain't the violent type, but he can cut you up pretty bad with his words!"

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that." Curry winked conspiratorially at the wrangler before moving away to pour Heyes his second cup of coffee.

Silence reigned in the office except for the occasional clink of the fork against the plate as Sam made his way through his breakfast. Heyes sipped his coffee and made his daily entry into his journal while Curry cleaned his gun for the umpteenth time.

Usually about this time they heard Jimmy's footsteps pounding down the boardwalk but this morning they heard his voice from the doorway first. "Good morning, Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones! How's Mr. Adamson?"

"See for yourself," Heyes replied shortly, still disgruntled.

Jimmy's eyes lit up as he saw the wrangler sitting up and drinking his coffee with the last of his biscuit. "Oh, Mr. Adamson, I was so worried yesterday! You look much better today! Well, sort of," he amended.

"I know I look pretty awful, don't I, Jimmy?" Sam attempted a smile that was more of a grimace. "But I'm going to be just fine in a few days. Aren't I, Joshua?"

Torn between a sarcastic remark and reassuring the boy, Heyes took the high road. "That's right, Jimmy, you can see he's improved already! So you go on t'school an' don't worry at all, okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Heyes. See you later, Mr. Adamson, Mr. Jones!" Jimmy grabbed his dinner pail and with a lighter heart raced off to school just as the bell began to ring.

All three looked curiously as a voice from outside said, "Whoa! Easy there, Jimmy, you'll put the doctor in need of a doctor!"

"Sorry, Dr. Milburn!"

The doctor came in hat and black bag in hand, said hat having been knocked off by the small whirlwind in the body of a boy. "Alas," he said. "Youthful energy is wasted on youth!"

"You all right, doc?" Curry asked courteously.

"Quite fine, thank you, young man! The question is – how is our patient?" He looked over at the cell and spotted Sam propped up, his breakfast dishes still on his lap. He tsked disapprovingly. "I thought I left instructions that he shouldn't be moved!"

"To be exact, doc, you said he should stay in bed for two days, and he is still in bed!" Heyes contradicted the medical man.

"Humph! I would have been more specific had I thought he'd be awake and restless so soon!"

"I may not see too well, but I hear quite clearly, if you all would like to not talk as if I weren't here, or was still unconscious!" Sam huffed.

"Yes, of course, young man! How are you feeling?" Dr. Milburn asked as he strode purposefully to the cell.

"Sore all over. It hurts to breathe," Sam complained.

"Nothing unusual in feeling sore after being beaten up!" the doctor snorted. "The painful breathing now, that's to do with your broken ribs, and I want you to be mindful of them - - it would be all too easy for one of them to puncture a lung and then you'd be in serious trouble! I see one eye has decided to open - - let me get a look at it if you don't mind."

"Go ahead."

"Hm, first let's get these dishes out of the way!"

"I'll take those, Dr. Milburn!" Curry said and quickly removed them.

"Thank you, my boy!" Dr. Milburn opened his bag and brought out a fat stubby candle and a match with which he proceeded to light the candle. "I'm going to need to open your eye a bit more and it may be uncomfortable."

"It's all right, doc."

The doctor leaned in and with his thumb and forefinger fully opened the eye. He looked closely at the bloodshot white and then moved the candle close to orb and then away from it, watching as the pupil dilated and contracted. "Good, good. Have you felt any nausea or dizziness?"

"No nausea, just a little dizziness when I got up to use the pot."

"Yes, I see you've managed to eat, which is a good sign." He blew out the candle and replaced it in the bag. "I don't see any signs of concussion - - a very good thing, but those ribs are still going to require care if they're not to cause more serious problems. I'll be able to remove the stitches in those cuts in a few days and the other bruises and abrasions will heal in due time. So, all in all, I'd say you were pretty fortunate! What you need now is rest and little activity for several days. In fact, a jail cell is probably a good place for you to be as your activity will be restricted as a matter of course!"

"Thanks a lot, doc!" Sam replied sarcastically.

To the two sheriffs the doctor said, "Unless he suffers a relapse, or something, I will see him again in four or five days to remove those stitches!"

"Actually, Dr. Milburn, could we ask you to look in on him occasionally tomorrow? Thaddeus and I are goin' out to Sam's place to bring in his string of horses and I'd like to know he's bein' looked after. Sara from the café will be bringing his meals, but she'll be doin' that on her breaks so she won't be able to stay long." Heyes explained.

"Certainly, as long as no emergencies arise that call me out of town!" Dr. Milburn was surprisingly agreeable.

"Thanks, doc, that's very kind of you."

"Kind, maybe, but it'll be on my bill to the city council!" He winked. "Remember what I said, young man, rest!"

"Yes, sir," Sam replied. After the doctor had gone the wrangler said, "Speaking of rest, I believe I'm feeling a little tired right now."

"Here, let me help you!" Heyes supported Sam's shoulders while he removed the extra pillows and then gently helped him to lie down.

"Thanks, Joshua," Sam said sleepily as the sheriff pulled the blanket up over him.

"No problem, Sam," Heyes replied, but doubted if the other man had heard as his one open eye had closed and his breathing was slow and even in sleep.

Thaddeus, in the meantime, had gathered the dishes and returned them to the café.

Several hours later, after they'd completed their morning rounds, a lone rider pulled up outside their office and dismounted. "I believe Mr. Cole has arrived," Curry commented quietly. "You got your silver tongue all warmed up, Joshua?"

"Like always, Thaddeus!" Heyes replied, ignoring the rolling of his partner's eyes. "Sam, I'd appreciate it if you don't antagonize with the man, okay?"

Sam didn't have time to agree or disagree as his former employer stomped into the office. He stopped dead center and cast his keen glance at his former wrangler lying on the cot in the cell. It might've been the light but Heyes was pretty sure he saw a brief look of sorrow flash across the older man's face. Then it was gone, replaced by its usual implacable sternness.

"So you see where your stubbornness has gotten you, eh, Sam?" he growled at the injured man.

Taking Heyes' advice, Sam forbore to reply, merely glared in silence.

"I understand from your foreman that you wish to press charges against Sam," Heyes said, distracting the rancher's attention.

"That's correct - - he was caught red-handed!" Cole exclaimed triumphantly.

"I'd say the ones with red hands are those who beat 'im to a pulp!" Curry snapped.

"I could've had him shot!" the rancher retorted.

"I appreciate your not doing that, Mr. Cole," Heyes said placatingly. "Before we get to the formal pressing of charges, may I speak with you privately outside?"

"I don't know what you have to say that can't be said right here!"

"Humor me, please."

"Very well."

The two men stepped outside, leaving Thaddeus to keep watch on the prisoner in question.

"What?" Cole demanded.

"Mr. Cole it comes to my mind that your heart isn't set on Sam goin' t'jail, that you'd be just as happy to have him out of your hair in any other way."

"What gives you such a crazy idea?"

"I'm a very good poker player and as such I have to be able to read people's expressions; I saw that you felt bad when you first saw Sam in that cell."

"So? What's your point?" the rancher growled.

"I'd like to propose a solution that will keep Sam out of jail while at the same time gettin' 'im out of your hair."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"My partner an' I, as you know are only here temporarily," at the older man's nod, Heyes continued. "We've got a horse ranch down in Colorado and we could use a man like Sam to work on it with us. If I can convince him to come with us, he'll be too far away, an' too busy, to come bothering you, interfering with your plans for the mustangs. How would that be?"

Cole didn't answer immediately just frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Be honest, he hasn't done you any real damage beyond a few cut fences that're easily fixed!" Heyes went on smoothly. "Surely you can afford to be generous in this instance."

"Have you spoken to Sam about this idea of yours?"

"No, sir, I wanted t'clear it with you first."

"Then you don't know if he'll even agree to it!"

"No, but I think I'm holdin' the winnin' ace that'll convince him!"

"What might that be?"

Heyes smiled slyly. "Wild horses! A herd of wild mustangs runs on our range led by the most magnificent stallion I've ever seen!"

"Hmm, you're right, that might just persuade him." Cole's face suddenly cleared as he made his decision. "All right, sheriff! If you can convince Sam to leave with you, then I won't press charges! If he refuses, then I'll press forward with criminal charges and I can guarantee him some serious time in prison!"

"Thanks, Mr. Cole, I just knew you were a man who could see reason! I'll broach the subject with him today. I'm pretty sure he'll listen as he's something of a captive audience!" The dark-haired sheriff grinned impishly.

"I'm sure we'll see each other again before you leave at which time you can tell me his decision."

Heyes thrust out his hand and Mr. Cole shook it firmly. "You won't regret it, Mr. Cole!"

Cole cast a quick glance over his shoulder at the jailhouse and then untied his horse and mounted. "You'd make a helluva horse trader, Mr. Smith!" He reined his horse away from the rail and spurred it into a gallop out of town. Heyes watched with a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"Now for Sam!" he said to himself and turned back to the office.

Curry could tell by the smug look on his partner's face that he'd been successful in selling his scheme. "It went well I see," he commented as Heyes shut the door behind him.

"So far," Heyes agreed.

"What's going on? Why did Mr. Cole leave without pressing charges?" Sam demanded from his cell.

"Are you disappointed?" Heyes asked with raised eyebrows.

"No, but he isn't one to back down when he's got his mind set on something!"

"I gave him an option - - the same one I'm gonna give you as a matter of fact an' I hope you're as smart as he was!"

"What're you talking about?"

"Just this - - as it stands right now you're lookin' at prison time should Mr. Cole decide to push it an' I don't suppose you really want to spend time there, do you?"

"No, of course not, but . . ."

"Just hear me out!" Heyes interrupted the other man. "As you know, Thaddeus an' I are only here temporarily an' when we leave we'll be headin' down to Colorado where we're in the process of startin' up a horse ranch. We'd like you t'hire on as our foreman!"

Sam stared from one sheriff to the other, his expression one of surprise and disbelief. "Why would you want to do that?" he asked.

Heyes shrugged. "We know a fair bit about horses, but you, with your experience growin' up on a horse farm, know so much more - - particularly about breedin' and such things! We could use a good man, a man we can trust with the runnin' of things if, at some time, Thaddeus an' I hafta leave for a while. Mr. Cole has agreed to not press charges against you if you agree to leave with us."

"You barely know me!" Sam exclaimed. "And why would you two have to leave for a while? And this still doesn't solve the issue of the wild horses!"

"Sam, you ain't gonna be able t'solve the issue of the wild horses that run on Mr. Cole's property! You're no good to them in prison now are you?"

Sam's face took on a mulish expression, but he managed to shake his head in answer to Heyes' question.

"Thaddeus an' I don't agree with the killin' of the horses, but we've learned that it's a rough road if a body chooses t'buck the law! Somebody someday will see the value in the mustangs and get a law passed to protect them, but until then Cole has the law on his side! So what's the point of wastin' your life? If we just happened t'let you escape, what would you do? No, don't tell me, I know - - you'd go right back to what you were doin' an' the next time Cole most likely will have you shot and you'll have done the mustangs no good cuz they'd still be killed! What point would that prove? Cole doesn't want it to come to that which is why he's agreed to my plan. Thaddeus an' I are both pretty good judges of character, which is why we're willin' t'take you on after such a short acquaintance. What do you say?"

"Can I have some time to think about it?" the wrangler asked hesitantly.

"By all means! But first let me entice you with one more good reason to come with us."

"Which is?"

"Wild horses run on our range, an' they're led by the most magnificent stallion you'll ever see! You may not be able t'save the mustangs here, but you can protect the herd on our land!" Heyes saw interest light up Sam's one eye and he was pretty sure he'd sealed the deal.

"I'll still need to think about it a while."

"Sure, ain't much else t'do locked in a cell anyway! We'll be around when you make up your mind! Only time limit you've got is until Sheriff Watkins gets back an' we hafta leave."

"I figure I can decide by then," the injured wrangler assured him.

"All right then."

"You never said why you and Thaddeus might have to leave your ranch sometime."

"No, I didn't, an' I won't unless you decide t'join us, cuz if you don't you don't need t'know! Now, if you're okay, we need to make our next rounds."

"I'm fine," Sam said and lay back, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling.

"C'mon, Thaddeus," Heyes said as he put his hat firmly on his head.

"Right behind you, Joshua."

"We've got 'im, Thaddeus," Heyes commented when they were safely outside the office.

"What makes you so sure, Joshua?"

"He's a bright fellow; I'm sure he can appreciate the difference between prison an' the freedom of workin' on a ranch!"

"It don't take genius t'figure that out, Joshua, cuz even I know prison ain't a good place t'be! Look how hard we've been workin' t'stay out!"

Heyes chuckled appreciatively. "You got that right! All Sam needs t'do is come t'terms with his pride an' since he's seen Cole swallow his I think it'll be easier for him."

"If he can accept he can't help the horses!"

"I think deep down he already knows that, but it's that pride I was just mentionin' that keeps 'im from givin' up the fight!"

"Well, I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

"That we will, Thaddeus."

They completed their rounds, then stopped in at the bootmakers' to make sure Jimmy's boots would definitely be ready by Wednesday, and then stopped at the café for lunch. During the course of their meal they made sure that Sara would be able to deliver meals to Sam the following day. She assured them it would be no problem at all and then brought them a tray with a bowl of fresh vegetable soup and two thick slices of bread. She added a spoon and covered it all with a large cloth. "If there's anything else he'd like just let me know, okay?"

"Sure, Sara, thanks a lot."

Curry lifted the tray and carried it carefully across the street.

Heyes stopped dead still in the doorway, nearly causing his partner right behind him to dump the contents of the tray on his head. "What do you think you're doing?" he exclaimed to their guest who had raised himself from the cot and now stood shakily, holding onto the bars to maintain his balance. "Dr. Milburn said specifically that you were to rest and not be active!" A nudge from behind made him move aside so Curry could bring the tray inside and set it on the desk.

"I'm being careful of my ribs, Joshua, but I'll get my strength back faster and the aches will go away sooner if I move around a little bit. Trust me, as many times as I've been thrown and trampled by horses has taught me a thing or two!"

"Yeah, well, I think you've had all the sense knocked right out of that bone head of yours! Do you think you could see the sense in sittin' down and havin' some dinner?"

"Actually sitting down sounds better than falling down, which is a distinct possibility right now!" With exaggerated care, Sam eased himself back down on the cot.

Heyes unlocked the cell and put the extra pillows back behind his back so he could semi recline. "Why is it that I get the stubborn patients, like you an' Thaddeus, who refuse t'do what a doctor tells them?" he grumbled.

"Obviously you don't remember what you're like as a patient, Joshua!" Curry retorted.

"I'm certain I did just as the doctor told me to do!"

"Hah!" Curry exclaimed, then turned to Sam, "Don't believe a word of it! Joshua is the absolute worst patient ever! Are you hungry for dinner?"

"Strangely enough, yeah, though I shouldn't be since I haven't done anything today!"

"You may not have, Sam, but your body's workin' pretty hard tryin' t'heal itself so it needs the food," Heyes explained.

"You a doctor, too, Joshua?" Sam asked lightly and Curry set the tray of food on his lap.

"No, but I read a lot."

"You'd better believe he reads a lot!" Curry rolled his eyes. "But the things he's read have sometimes gotten us out of a mess!"

"How about telling me some more about this ranch of yours while I eat this?" the wrangler asked, successfully distracting Heyes from scolding any further.

"Oh, I bet you've never seen a prettier valley!" the dark eyed soon to be rancher said with a distant look and a sparkle in his eyes.

While their guest ate his dinner, Heyes described, in great depth, the valley, their plans, the progress made so far, and the herd of wild horses that roamed there. Curry chimed in when he thought his partner had left out something important. Sam listened with great interest.

"How did you find this place if it's so secluded?"

Heyes and Curry both became suddenly serious, their eyes haunted by the memory of how near to death Heyes had come that time. "I was sick - - dying - - an' I saw it - - I guess you'd say it was a dream - - all I know is it whispered home to me. When I got better an' described it Brigitte said she knew just where it was, an' she was right! I've never felt much like settlin' down, but this place pulls at me even from a distance!"

"You make it sound kinda like heaven," Sam commented.

Heyes laughed suddenly. "May be as close to heaven as me an' Thaddeus are ever gonna get!"

"Yeah, you can probably say that again, Joshua!" Curry agreed with his own bright smile.

"What do you boys do when you aren't filling in for absent sheriffs?"

"Lately? Playin' poker mostly! That's how we've been raisin' the stake for our ranch, but we've done pretty much a little bit of everything over the years. This bein' sheriffs is a one time thing, as a favor for a friend as I said before - - way too much responsibility for a permanent job! The hours are terrible, too!"

"An' the pay ain't too good either!" added the gunslinger.

Sam laughed, then winced as the movement awakened the pain in his ribs. "Well, you seem to be doin' a pretty good job, even if your methods are a little bit different!"

"That'd probably be the first time somebody locked in a cell has said the sheriff's doin' a good job, wouldn't you say, Joshua?"

Heyes nodded. "Yeah, that's probably not what I'd be sayin' if I was behind them bars!"

"Well, I realize you two are trying to help me, and I appreciate it."

"Have you made up your mind about our job offer?"

"I've got to admit you've made it sound wonderful, but I still need to think about it some more."

"Fine, take your time," Heyes shrugged. "Now, about bringin' in these horses of yours tomorrow - - won't we need a couple more men to drive 'em in?"

"No, that won't be necessary, they'll lead pretty well. I've put a simple halter on each of them so if you tie them on a lead rope, half for each of you, I don't think you'll have any trouble. Take Shiloh with you, they'll recognize him and be easier to handle. Take some apples along, too, and when you get there start whistling "Dixie" and they'll come running - - I always whistle "Dixie" when I'm feeding them! While they're eating the apples, you can get them on the ropes," Sam explained.

"Hmm, that doesn't sound too hard. It's an all day job, though, I hope Coleville can stay nice an' quiet while it's sheriffs are gone!"

"Nothing much ever happens in Coleville, Joshua," the wrangler assured the acting sheriff.

"Hah!" Curry snorted. "So far, besides the trouble with you an' Mr. Cole, we've had to arrest Mrs. Cuthbert for tryin' t'chop up the saloon! Not to mention Joshua stirrin' up trouble with the schoolteacher by tryin' t'get Jimmy in school against the rules! Sometimes I think excitement follows us around!"

"Now, Thaddeus, don't you think Coleville's had enough excitement for the year?" Heyes chided with amusement.

"Yeah, I think so, but that ain't t'say that's all there's gonna be!"

"You're such a pessimist!"

"I'll be happy t'be wrong, Joshua!"

Sam risked another laugh as he said, "Sounds like working for you two would be interesting!"

"That's certainly one word for what you can expect, Sam!"

"If you're finished there, Sam, I'll take the dishes back to the café an' round up a sack of apples an' some rope while I'm out. Probably better talk to Otis about usin' the corral t'put your horses. You mind mindin' the office, Thaddeus?"

"No problem, Joshua, you go on ahead."

"Don't let my partner scare you off, Sam," Heyes warned.

"I don't think that'll be a problem, Joshua," Sam assured him.

Chapter Nine

Having assured themselves that all preparations had been made for Sam's care while they were gone, Heyes and Curry were up at the crack of dawn to get an early start. With Shiloh on a lead, they galloped out of town in the half-light of dawn. Having been to Sam's place once already they were able to make much better time than the first time and so reached the tree marking the end of Cole's property before the sun had completely burned off the night's chill.

They looked down into the valley that was still shrouded mostly in shadows, but still something looked off. "Kid, does something look strange to you down there?" Heyes asked, squinting to try a see into the shadows.

Curry, leaning on his saddle horn, replied, "The shadow about where Sam's cabin is looks a bit darker than the others."

"That's what I was thinkin', too. Why would that be?"

"Beats me. Only one way t'find out, though."

"Yeah, you're right."

They took the trail down in single file and spurred their horses into a gallop as soon as they reached the flat. Long before they got to Sam's cabin they could smell it: smoke. Their worst fears were confirmed when they got to the place where Sam's cabin had been and found only the charred remains.

"Guess Cole wanted t'make sure Sam didn't have any place t'come back to," Curry said grimly.

"Let's hope he didn't know where Sam kept his horses!" Heyes replied equally grimly.

The horses snorted their distaste of the smell of smoke, even as old as it was, but they were too well trained to shy as they passed by.

The crack in the ridge was just wide enough for a horse to pass through, and, to their relief, when it opened out the enclosure that held the horses was still intact, all of its inhabitants still in place.

"That's a relief!" Heyes told his partner. "I sure hated the thought of tellin' Sam he didn't have any horses anymore!"

"Yeah, even your silver tongue might not've been enough to persuade him not to go after Cole!" agreed the gunslinger.

Shiloh neighed a greeting to his herd mates and the other animals spread across the enclosure all lifted their heads. Heyes untied the sack of apples while Curry got the ropes ready. He puckered his lips and began a rousing rendition of "Dixie" which was answered by neighs, whickers, and whinnies from the various horses and the sound of pounding hooves.

"A bunch of Confederate horses there, Heyes!" Curry grinned.

"Well, it could've been "Yankee Doodle" instead, I suppose!" Heyes responded with a grin.

The half-broke mustangs eagerly accepted the offering of apples and paid little attention to Curry as he strung them together in two strings of five, Shiloh being the fifth in the second string. Worried about being left out, the two outlaws' horses nudged Heyes in the back, who laughed and gave them each an apple saying, "I wouldn't forget about you two!"

The trip back was necessarily slower leading the extra horses, but, having gotten such an early start, they weren't concerned and just enjoyed the ride.

They plodded back into town around four in the afternoon. They rode directly into the corral behind the livery stable and dismounted, stretching their aching muscles.

Jimmy raced out of the stable excitedly. "What beautiful horses!" he exclaimed with wide eyes. "Where'd you get them?"

"They're Sam's," Heyes replied. "Would you be so good as to take our horses into the stable before we let these loose?"

"Sure!" The boy took the reins of the two saddled horses and led them out of the corral. Curry shut the gate behind him and they proceeded to release the horses from their lead ropes. Once freed they flung their heads and frisked away. They kept Shiloh on his lead and led him out of the corral to be replaced in his stall. Using available buckets, they pumped water and filled the trough inside the corral and the horses came eagerly to drink.

Otis limped out and studied the milling animals. "Mustangs, eh? Well, I've seen worse!" was his judgment. "I'll get 'em some hay."

"Much obliged, Otis." Curry said.

Wearily, stomachs growling their complaints at have missed lunch, the two sheriffs unsaddled and brushed their own horses while Jimmy filled their water pails and hayracks.

"Thanks, Jimmy," Heyes said gratefully. "Town been quiet while we've been gone?"

"Yes, sir, as usual!"

"Good, that's good. Hey, don't forget to come by tomorrow after school so we can go pick up your boots."

"Oh, I won't forget, Mr. Heyes!"

The dark haired sheriff tousled the matching dark hair of the boy with a smile and the two men made their way to the sheriff's office to make sure all was well there before they satisfied their hunger.

Dr. Milburn and Sam were engaged in a game of chess through the bars of the cell when the two sheriffs entered. "Joshua! Thaddeus! You're back! Did everything go well?" Sam greeted them enthusiastically.

"Yeah, we got the horses back here without any trouble," Heyes reported. "Cole made sure you wouldn't go back there, though."

"Oh? How?"

"He burned your cabin," the sheriff stated baldly.

Sam's lips tightened in anger, but then he sighed and said, "A cabin can be rebuilt - - what's important is you got my horses okay. I'm much obliged, Joshua, Thaddeus."

"It was no trouble at all, Sam. How's Sam doin', Doc?" Heyes asked.

"Quite well. He's improving much more quickly than I'd have expected," Dr. Milburn said. "But I still don't want you doing too much, Sam."

"I'm pretty limited in here, Doc, as you said before," the wrangler replied wryly.

"Very true. Well, since you boys are back, I'll be on my way. It's been a pleasure, Sam."

"Thanks, Dr. Milburn."

"Do you need anything, Sam?" Heyes inquired.

"No, I'm fine."

"Good, then Thaddeus an' me are gonna go wash up and get some dinner. We'll be back in a while."

"All right and thanks again!"

With tired waves of acknowledgment, the two former outlaws shut the door behind them and trudged across to the hotel where they ordered up a bath before they climbed the stairs to their room.

Refreshed by a bath and fortified by a good meal, both of the acting sheriffs felt ready to face the evening. They saved Sara a trip to the jail and took Sam's supper with them when they left the café.

Sam was lying on his cot, hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling when they came in bearing the tray.

"Soup's on!" Curry announced as Heyes set the tray on the desk.

The wrangler didn't move for a moment and when he did he sat up much easier than he had the day before. They took a good look at his face and saw both eyes were open, though the bruises remained.

"You're doin' much better, I see," Heyes noted.

"Yeah, my ribs are still mighty painful, and I still have some other aches and pains, but I am better, thanks." Sam replied then paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Joshua, Thaddeus, I've been doing a lot of thinking since you came back and told me about my cabin being burned - - oh, I was thinking before that, too, but that really drove it home. Everything I owned in the world, except my horses and what I've got right here, was in that cabin - - it wasn't much and nothing I can't replace, just like I could rebuild the cabin, but I don't think I will. I think I'd like to accept your job offer."

Broad smiles split the two sheriff's faces. "That's great, Sam! I think you've made a wise decision! You won't regret it!" Heyes exclaimed and shook Sam's hand through the bars.

"I can't say you won't regret it, Sam, but welcome aboard," Curry said, also shaking the wrangler's hand.

"Well, you've made your place sound so perfect, how could I refuse?" Sam grinned in return.

"We still gotta keep you locked up until we leave," the darker sheriff added. "I promised Mr. Cole as part of the deal."

"That's okay. Where do I have to go anyway?"

"Oh, well, as to that, there's the saloon for a drink, or a game of poker, that sort of thing," Heyes listed.

"Got no money so I couldn't do those things anyway! In jail I've got a bed and meals, what more could I ask for?" Sam said genially.

"Well, it's only for a few more days anyway."

"Joshua would be goin' crazy by now!" Curry confided to their guest.

"You've been behind bars?"

Heyes shot his partner a quelling look. "Oh, well, just a mistaken identity sort of thing - - cleared it up right away! But it was enough for me to know jail ain't the place for me!"

"Don't get me wrong, boys, I wouldn't want to spend my whole life here, but it's not so bad for a few days!"

"Maybe we can help you pass the time with a few friendly games of poker after you eat your supper, which you'd better do before it gets much colder!"

"I wouldn't mind playing a few hands," Sam agreed as Heyes unlocked the cell door and brought in his tray.

"Good, I'll go down to the saloon and see if Gus will lend us some chips. Mind the store, okay, Thaddeus?"

"Sure, Joshua."

Heyes stepped out onto the boardwalk, settling his hat on his head, and spotted Kathleen Davenport coming out of the General Store with her arms full of her purchases. He walked quickly across the street. "Good evening, Miss Davenport," he said, tipping his hat to her. "May I help you with your packages?"

It may have been the rosy glow of the sunset, but it seemed a blush brightened her cheeks as she smiled slightly and said, "Why, thank you, Sheriff Smith, that would be very kind."

Heyes easily took the packages and fell into step alongside her. "I've been meaning to talk with you some more about how Jimmy's doin' in school."

"So have I, Sheriff Smith, been meaning to speak with you about Jimmy, I mean!" Miss Davenport said, flustered.

"I know what you mean, Miss Davenport, and I'd be pleased if you'd call me Joshua - - Sheriff Smith makes me wanna look over my shoulder!"

The teacher actually laughed aloud. "Very well, Joshua, but you must call me Kathleen then, it would only be fair."

"I'm honored, Kathleen. So how is Jimmy doing with his studies?"

"I am very pleased with his progress! I believe he will have caught up with his age group by Christmas vacation! It's not often one finds a student so eager to learn!"

"I'm glad. He seems to admire you very much, Kathleen, he speaks of you a great deal."

"He speaks highly of you, too, Joshua. Your coming to town was the best thing that could have happened to Jimmy!"

"Don't go makin' me out any kind of hero now, Kathleen," Heyes could almost feel a blush in his own cheeks.

"Well, he thinks of you as a hero and you're surely a good role model for the boy!"

Heyes nearly choked, but was saved from a reply by their arrival at the house reserved for the town's schoolteacher. It was small, painted white with blue trim, and surrounded by a white picket fence. The last of the summer's flowers lined the walkway to the door and a tiny garden plot showed around the side of the yard.

Miss Davenport opened the door and held out her arms for the packages. "Thank you very much, Joshua."

"You're welcome, Kathleen."

"Good night."

"Night." Heyes tipped his hat again and turned to walk back the way he'd come, this time making it to the saloon without a detour.

The first thing he noticed was the absence of the Ladies' Temperance Society outside the building. He guessed Mrs. Cuthbert's arrest had put a damper on their enthusiasm. Inside the weekend crowds were gone, but the town's regulars kept a decent business going, and perhaps there might've been a few more now that it wasn't necessary to run the gantlet of the crusading women.

Heyes leaned on the bar and looked out over the main room and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Clarence Mandeville was presiding over the only poker game going. The gambler happened to look up and catch the sheriff looking his way and he smiled knowingly and nodded.

"What can I get for you, sheriff?" Gus asked, coming up to Heyes while drying his hands on his ever-present towel.

"I was wondering if we might borrow some poker chips, Gus; we'd like to keep our guest at the jail entertained."

"Oh, yes, of course! How is Sam doing by the way?" Gus reached under the bar and brought up a box of red, white, and blue chips.

"I see the word has gotten out," Heyes said dryly.

"It's a small town, sheriff."

"That it is. Well, he's doing much better - - should be good as new in a few days. Oh, how about a bottle of whiskey and three glasses, too? I'll bring the glasses back later."

"Sure, sure, not a problem!" A bottle of whiskey and three glasses joined the box of chips. "Anything else?"

"That'll do. What do I owe you?"

"A dollar will cover it."

Heyes placed a silver dollar on the bar, put the box of chips under his arm, the three glasses in one hand, and the whiskey in the other, suddenly thinking maybe it would be nice if Miss Davenport came along to help him carry his stuff! He laughed silently to himself as he left the saloon and made his way back to the jail.

Thaddeus took out his gun cleaning kit, broke down his pistol and began to clean it while Sam dug into his meal. After several moments of silence he happened to look up to find Sam's eyes on him. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"No," Sam answered. "You aren't very talkative."

"No, Joshua usually does enough talkin' for the both of us," Curry replied with a small smile.

"You're pretty good with that gun, though. I remember how fast you drew it up at my cabin."

Curry looked up sharply, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Yeah, so?"

The wrangler shrugged. "Nothing, just making conversation. Why are you cleaning it? Did you fire it today?"

"It ain't only after bein' fired a weapon needs cleanin'!"

"Really? Why?"

"You've got a gun - - don't you know how t'use it an' take care of it?" Curry's professionalism was appalled.

"Oh, sure, I can shoot well enough, I've kind of had to if I wanted to eat, and I always clean my guns after shooting them! You said you didn't fire yours today, though."

"A gun gets dirty by more than just firin' it," Curry explained. "Today, for example, Joshua an' I were out all day on dusty trails, you're not gonna think that's it's just possible some of that dust might've settled in the gun an' stuck there?"

Sam looked surprised. "I don't suppose I'd ever thought about it before!"

"Well, it will an' that dust can ruin the smooth action of the gun's parts, maybe build up until it plain won't fire! A man oughta clean his gun every day, after all, it's a tool an' anybody who values his tools is gonna take care of 'em!"

"I guess mine might be pretty dirty then!"

"I thought you said you hunt."

"Yeah, but usually not every day, sometimes I fish, and sometimes what I kill lasts for several days."

"Well, when I finish mine, I'll check yours out."

"Much obliged."

Sam returned to his dinner and silence reigned again for several minutes. "You and Joshua known each other a long time?" he finally asked.

Curry quirked an eyebrow up at the wrangler. "Nearly our whole lives. We were kids together in Kansas. Lost our families in the Border Wars. We've pretty much taken care of each other ever since."

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be - - it was a long time ago. You remind me of Joshua a lot."

"Really? How?"

"You talk a lot!"

"Good conversation with supper helps the digestion!"

"Not mine!" Curry grunted.

Sam laughed.

Curry finished his gun and twirled it back into his holster and then took Sam's pistol out of the desk drawer where it had been put. He broke it down and examined it carefully. "Yeah, you've got a bit of build up here, but it's not as bad as it could be - - like the rifles in that rack over there when we first got here! Took me hours to get 'em all clean! I'll clean it for you today, but if you're gonna work for us I expect you to take care of your tools!"

"But we'll be raising horses," Sam protested.

"Y'gotta be prepared for anythin' in this part of the country - - outlaws, renegades, whatever! The West might be gettin' tamer, but it ain't tame yet!"

"Okay, sure, I can clean it every day."

Sam had finished his supper and Curry was putting the finishing touches on the wrangler's pistol when Heyes came back in.

"I brought a bottle of whiskey," he announced. "Thought we could have a toast to our workin' together!"

"See there, Sam, that's what Joshua's good for - - thinkin'!" Curry grinned.

"What's he been tellin' you while I've been gone?" Heyes asked suspiciously.

"Oh, not much, just that you talk enough for the two of you and that I remind him of you because I talk a lot, too. And he's been giving me pointers on the proper care of a gun - - seems I've been lax in my cleaning habits!"

Heyes snorted. "Thaddeus' gun is clean enough t'eat off of if it was big enough! But if he says you ain't takin' good care of your gun, then listen to 'im cuz he's the expert!"

Sam shook his head. "You two aren't like any other cowboys I've ever met - - I can't figure you out!"

It was Curry's turn to snort. "You ain't ever gonna figure Joshua out! I've known 'im forever an' he still surprises me! With me, what you see is what you get."

"Don't even believe that, Sam!" Heyes laughed.

"Oh, don't worry, I don't, but I guess I'll get to know you better since we're going to be working together."

"You will at that." Heyes poured three glasses of whiskey and handed them around. "Here's to Sam, our new foreman!" They clinked glasses and tossed off the liquor. "Now how about some poker?"

"I'm in!" both Curry and Sam said.

They spent a pleasurable evening playing three handed poker until the day caught up with the two sheriffs and they decided to call it a night. Sam assured them he would be fine and no one needed to sleep there with him, so Heyes gathered up the glasses, locked the door behind them, and returned the glasses to Gus as they did their final rounds of the night.

It was with grateful sighs that they laid down on their soft hotel beds and even Heyes fell quickly to sleep.

Chapter Ten

Wednesday promised to be another typical quiet day in Coleville, a condition most of its inhabitants were content with, strived for as a matter of fact. It was a condition, however, that was unhappily wearing on one of the town's acting sheriffs.

"Joshua, what's gotten into you today?" Curry growled, looking up exasperated from cleaning Sam's rifle that he had retrieved from the livery stable, as for the fifth time his partner stood and paced the office, pausing to look out the door and then the window.

"I don't know, Thaddeus, I'm feelin' itchy!" Heyes ran lean fingers through his dark hair.

"Well, stop it! Your itchy is makin' me twitchy! Why don't you go see if you can find a book t'read, or somethin'?"

"You're tellin' me t'read a book? You're usually tellin' me t'quit readin'!"

"It's better than the up an' down an' pacin' you're doin' now!"

"Fine! I'll go see if the General Store has any books. Jimmy's gonna need some socks for his boots anyway!"

Curry shook his head as the door closed behind his partner.

"Does he get like this often?" Sam asked from the cell.

"Huh? Oh, no, not really. Joshua needs t'keep his mind occupied, either plannin' somethin', or readin' - - he's not much for sittin' around with nothin' t'occupy him. On top of that, I think he's gettin' anxious t'get home - - so'm I as a matter of fact - - but I think it frustrates him that the girls are gettin' the ranch buildings up an' he ain't there t'supervise!"

"I guess that could be worrisome since you left women in charge of the construction!"

"Nah, it ain't like that! Brigitte's doin' a fine job an' Joshua approved her plans before we left - - it's just that it's his vision an' he wants t'be there t'see it come to life!"

"You say Brigitte made the plans? She must be some woman!"

"Oh, she's somethin' special all right! It was her that took two bullets outta Joshua an' then nursed 'im through the pneumonia that followed - - saved his life - - an' mine!" Curry's eyes saddened again at the memory. "She's smart as a whip, tough as nails, an' can ride an' shoot like a man! Yup, Brigitte's special all right! She's mighty pretty, too!"

"Sounds like you admire her; won't that be a problem between you?"

Curry laughed. "I do admire her, but it's her sister, Mary, who's the one for me! Mary's the complete opposite from her sister, except for the pretty part! She's quiet an' sweet - - cooks like an angel, too! They're both pretty special - - hafta be t'take on a coupla drifters like Joshua an' me!"

"I'll look forward to meeting them."

"You'll like them; they'll like you, too - - the O'Reilly's are good people!"

An hour after he'd left, Heyes burst into the office his dimples flashing in a broad grin, in his arms a paper-wrapped package.

Curry and Sam looked at him in surprise and the gunslinger asked, "What's put you in such a good mood so suddenly?"

"The first place I went when I left here was to the telegraph office figurin' I'd update Brigitte an' Mary on our situation an' that we'd be bringin' a new friend, and it just so happens that a telegraph had just arrived for us from Sheriff Watkins. He said that the treatment for his wife had gone so well they're comin' back early! Should be in on Monday's stage!"

"That's great news, Joshua!" Curry's smile rivaled his partner's in its brilliance.

"I thought so, so while I was at the General Store I bought us all a cigar t'celebrate!" He put the package on the desk and tore it open to reveal three cigars, a book, and a small stack of socks. Heyes picked up the cigars and handed one each to Curry and Sam.

Curry ran the cigar under his nose, inhaling the aroma. "Hmm, a good one!"

"The best they had!" the dark sheriff bragged, striking a match and holding it to first Curry's and then Sam's cigars. He shook it out before it burned his fingers then struck another to light his own.

They smoked silently for several minutes enjoying the flavor of the smoke and watching the tendrils drift lazily up towards the ceiling. "We'll hafta travel a little slower now since we'll have Sam's string of horses, but we should be able to get home before the first snow flies!" Heyes finally said, breaking the silence.

"What should it take? A couple of weeks? Maybe three at the most?" Curry guessed.

"Somethin' like that. There're a few town's along the way where we can overnight and pick up some more money in the poker games. The only thing we haven't managed to do is find a good stud!"

"Well, you hafta admit we haven't exactly put ourselves out lookin' for one, Joshua!"

"You're right about that, though we have gotten distracted several times along the way."

Sam cleared his throat to get their attention. "If you don't mind a suggestion, I happen to know that Mr. Cole has a pureblood Quarter horse stud he'd be willing to sell - - cost you a pretty penny, though!"

"You think he'd still be willin' t'sell to us knowin' you're comin' with us? It'd kinda be like sellin' straight to you!" Heyes narrowed his eyes in thought.

"One thing about Adam Cole is he doesn't let his feelings get in the way of business. He'll sell."

"What's a pretty penny?" Curry asked.

"Three hundred dollars!"

Both former outlaws whistled at the price.

"Pretty steep," Heyes commented.

"He'd go for double that easily if he was proven at stud, but he's young yet. His bloodline is strong and I think he'll be a strong breeder."

"So you think we oughta buy him?"

"I don't think you can go wrong if you do," Sam assured them.

"All right then, before we hit the trail we'll pay a little visit to Mr. Cole!"

Heyes' natural good nature restored they made dinner a continuation of the celebration, ordering three steak dinners and bringing theirs over to eat with Sam.

Heyes set his and Sam's plates on the desk and picked up the big key ring that held the keys to the cells. He opened Sam's door and said, "Come eat out here. Ain't no reason you should stay locked up now you've agreed t'come with us!"

"Thanks, Joshua!"

The three used the desk as a table and talked animatedly about horse breeding and ranches with Sam providing valuable input.

"You realize this ain't gonna be a money-makin' proposition at first, don't you, Sam?" Heyes ventured to say at the end of the meal. "What I'm tryin' t'say is, we won't be able t'pay you wages until we're really up an' runnin', but whatever we get we'll share with you."

"I understand perfectly, Joshua," the wrangler assured him. "Room and board's about all I need anyway - - I haven't got a family to support or anything like that."

"Good, I just wanted everything clear from the start."

As slowly as the morning had passed, the afternoon passed as quickly and soon Jimmy ran in the door, which they had left open to get the fresh breeze to blow through and clear out the cigar smoke. The boy's eyes brightened noticeably when he saw Sam sitting up playing poker with the two sheriffs.

"Oh, you look so much better, Mr. Adamson!" he exclaimed. "You looked really awful and I was real worried!"

The three men laughed and Sam said, "I'm much better, thank you, Jimmy, and I appreciate your concern. Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones have been taking very good care of me."

"You ready t'go get your boots now, Jimmy?" Heyes asked.

"Oh, yes, sir!"

"Okay, catch!" The darker sheriff tossed a pair of socks at the boy, who caught them easily. "Can't wear boots without socks! Let's go!"

"Be right back!" the boy exclaimed excitedly and he dashed out the door ahead of Heyes.

The boot maker was a dour Scotsman who went by the name Mac. His rust colored hair that stuck out in all directions and his beetling brows and mutton chop sideburns of the same color made him rather fierce-some in appearance, but his hands were gentle as he guided the boy's feet into the new boots and directed him to stand. "How do they feel?" he asked in his heavy Scottish burr.

Jimmy walked the width of the shop and back and said, "They feel great!"

"Mind if they bother ye even a wee bit bring them back and I'll give 'em a wee stretch!"

"Yes, sir! Thank you!"

"Would you wait for me outside a minute, Jimmy?" Heyes asked.

"Sure!" Jimmy clumped happily outside.

Heyes paid the Scot and then added the same price three times over. "I'd like to pay in advance for three more pairs of boots for when Jimmy outgrows those, if I could."

"That's right nice of ye, Sheriff! It's more than glad I'd be to do that little thing!"

"Thanks, Mac, I'm much obliged!" Heyes shook the boot maker's hand heartily.

Together Heyes and Jimmy walked back to the jailhouse, the boy walking a little more clumsily than usual since he was unused to wearing footwear. After Curry and Sam had dutifully praised the handsomeness of the new boots, Jimmy ran off to do his chores and schoolwork.

"He's a good kid," Sam commented.

"That he is," Heyes agreed.

"Seems mighty fond of you, Joshua. Have you put any thought into what's going to happen when you leave?"

The former outlaw leader, turned acting sheriff and role model to a young boy, sighed heavily. "I haven't been able t'stop thinkin' about it, Sam," he said. "Takin' 'im with us ain't practical an' we can't even promise a good stable home yet while we get our ranch off the ground. The O'Reilly's would probably take 'im in happily, but that ain't right either! No, he's better off here where he can get proper schoolin' and such, but I sure ain't happy with his livin' conditions!"

"I see you have been thinking about it."

"Yeah, an' I'm gonna have t'do some more until I come up with a plan!"

Curry slapped his partner on the shoulder. "Well, plans are what you're good at, Joshua, so I'm sure you'll come up with one!"

"I hope so, Thaddeus, I hope so."

Midnight had come and most of Coleville was asleep. Business at the saloon was winding down and Coleville's two sheriffs were about to call it a night when the acrid smell of smoke stung their nostrils.

"You smell that, Thaddeus?" Heyes queried.

"Yeah," Curry replied tersely.

Heyes ran to the door and looked out into the night his eyes immediately spotting the orange glow radiating from the livery stable. "Oh, God, Jimmy!" he cried and sprinted into the darkness.

"I've gotta get the horses outta there!" Curry exclaimed.

"I'm going with you!" Sam said.

"You ain't up t'fightin' a fire, Sam!"

"I can man the pump!"

Knowing there was no time to argue, Curry dashed out of the office, Sam close on his heels.

The few customers left in the saloon had also noticed the smoke and were streaming out into the street. Gus himself ran to a large metal triangle and began beating it with its metal rod. "Fire!" he yelled. "Fire! Everybody up!"

The awful noise roused the sleeping townspeople and they began racing out of their homes, heedless of what they were wearing, buckets in hand. The children ran to the schoolyard where they huddled safely out of the way. The adults formed a bucket brigade at the pump behind the stable, passing the filled buckets from hand to hand, the last in the line throwing the water on the fire. Sam was hard put to pump fast enough to keep the buckets full.

Heyes, his heart pounding in fear, ran to the back door of the stable, the closest exit to Jimmy's little room, only to find that the flames had engulfed it completely. Cursing the lost time, he ran back to the front and yanked the doors open. Smoke billowed out and he immediately began to cough and his eyes to water, but he pressed forward.

"Jimmy!" he yelled, knowing the boy probably wouldn't be able to hear him through the panicked screams of the horses and the thuds of their hooves against their stalls. His heart ached for them, but his first concern was for Jimmy - - if there was time he'd come back for them.

"Jimmy!" he yelled again, inhaling more smoke and coughing.

"Mr. Smith!" a small frightened voice answered through its own coughing.

Heyes saw the flames eating all around the half-door to Jimmy's room. He peered into the stall turned room and saw the boy huddled in the furthest corner clutching a bundle to his chest. "Hold on, Jimmy, I'm gonna get you outta there!"

Coughing spasmodically, he belatedly pulled his bandana over his nose and mouth and then grabbed two thick horse blankets, one to protect his head and shoulders. He thought he saw someone else in the stable releasing the horses, but he didn't waste time seeing who, Jimmy had little enough as it was.

With one powerful kick he smashed open the door and under cover of the blanket dashed through the flames to the cowering, coughing boy. He tossed the other blanket over the boy's head, scooped up both boy and bundle and raced back through the flames and smoke. He brushed past someone fighting to control a panicked horse and then was gratefully sucking in fresh air.

He set the boy onto his feet still clutching his bundle in a death grip. "You okay, Jimmy? You burned or anything?"

Unable to talk for his coughing, the boy shook his head.

"Good, that's real good!" Heyes sighed in relief. "Can you walk over to the schoolyard and stay with the other kids? I've gotta go back an' help."

Jimmy threw his arms around Heyes' neck and the man could feel the boy trembling like a leaf. He patted the thin back. "It's okay, Jimmy, you're okay now! Can you walk, or shall I carry you over there?"

Jimmy stepped back, wiping his eyes, which only served to smear the soot around. He sniffed and said, "I can walk, Mr. Smith. Do you have to go?"

"Yes, I do, they need all the help they can get. If this fire spreads it can burn down the whole town!"

"Okay."

"Good boy! Go over there now an' I'll see you later!"

"Be careful!"

"Don't worry, I will," the sheriff assured the boy.

Heyes paused a brief second to see the boy headed in the right direction before running back only to be nearly knocked down by a frantic horse bolting out of the stable.

The entire building was engulfed in flames by this time, with no chance of saving it, but the bucket brigade still battled to prevent it from spreading, which it hadn't done yet.

Heyes found Sam laboring with the pump, pain and exhaustion showing in his still bruised face, but he saw no sign of his partner.

"Have you seen Thaddeus?" He had to nearly shout to be heard.

"He's been in and out rescuing the horses - - I've seen him several times. He told me there was one more left inside and I haven't seen him since!"

"You mean he's still in there?" Heyes exclaimed in horror. His mind flashed back to the panicked horse that had nearly knocked him down as it fled the flames - - it must have been the one the Kid had been trying to save. If so, where was the Kid? Why hadn't he come out? "I've gotta go get 'im!"

"You can't go in there, Joshua! The roof's going to fall any minute!"

"I've gotta find Thaddeus!" Heyes grabbed a filled bucket and poured the water over his head and shoulders and then another until he was soaked. He pulled his wet bandana back up over his face and plunged back into the inferno.

Smoke and flames filled the stable and the roar and crackle of the flames filled Heyes' ears. "Kid!" he screamed. "Kid!"

Unable to see, he dropped to his knees where it was a little clearer and crawled forward. "Kid!" he yelled again. The heat was so intense he could feel the clothes on his back drying.

A flaming beam dropped from the roof and Heyes flinched from the hot embers that stung his exposed skin, but in the flash of light, as he turned his head, he caught sight of a still form sprawled inside a stall.

"Kid!" His guts churned with fear as he crawled to his partner's side.

Curry lay as still as death, his face pale and his blond curls matted with blood that streamed from an ugly gash above his left temple. There was no time to check if he was alive or dead because any delay and they would both be dead! Parts of the roof were falling faster and the whole thing could fall any second. He grabbed the body of the gunslinger under his arms and, shielding him as best he could from the flaming debris, began hauling his friend out.

The short way through the front double doors was blocked by a sheet of flames so he had to go back the way he'd come, the few extra steps added that might mean their deaths.

He couldn't draw a decent breath as the smoke filled his lungs even through the bandana and he felt his strength draining away and his head began to spin as it slowly starved from lack of oxygen, yet he continued hauling the dead weight that was his friend backward, step by painful step.

He stumbled and fell to his knees with no strength left to rise again - - he could have had enough to crawl out himself, but he refused to leave the Kid behind. Tears streamed down his face from the stinging smoke so, as he looked down, the Kid's face swam before his eyes. God, it can't end like this! Not now! he cried silently from the depths of his soul.

Then strong hands were helping him to his feet, while others grabbed the Kid and pulled him the rest of the way to safety. Someone held a cool cup of water to his lips and he drank gratefully. There was a sudden whoosh behind him and he turned to see the stable collapse in on itself, sparks shooting high up into the night sky!

"All right, everybody!" a voice bellowed. "Half of you keep working to get this fire doused and the rest of you start patrolling, make sure none of them sparks lands and starts another fire!"

People started to move away while others continued to ply buckets of water, but Heyes felt somehow at a distance from it all. He needed to see if the Kid was alive, he just needed to look down and check, but he was so afraid. Finally, he forced his eyes down at the man at his feet and saw that Dr. Milburn was already there and tending to him. He dropped to his knees across from the medical man, who worked to stanch the blood flowing from the Kid's head. The sight of the blood was a relief to Heyes because if the Kid was dead there wouldn't be blood since his heart wouldn't be beating anymore - - or at least it seemed reasonable to him.

"Doc?" he rasped out, his voice feeling the effects of the smoke. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Can't say, son, head injuries are tricky things! Once I get this bleeding stopped we'll move him to where I have more light to examine him by."

"Can you please wait for me before you move him? I've got to go check on Jimmy."

"You should really rest, son, you've breathed in a lot of smoke."

"I'll just be a minute," Heyes insisted and staggered to his feet. From the corner of his eye he noticed that someone had relieved Sam at the pump and the wrangler was perched on the edge of the watering trough, an arm clamped around his ribs. He made a mental note to have Dr. Milburn check him over.

Miss Davenport was with the children maintaining order and keeping their minds occupied so they wouldn't be too frightened. Jimmy sat right next to her, his bundle still clutched tightly. He saw Heyes approaching and his eyes lit up. He leaped to his feet and ran to the former outlaw.

"Oh, Mr. Smith, you're all right! I was so worried!"

"I told you I'd see you later, didn't I, Jimmy? I always keep my word!"

Jimmy hugged Heyes as best he could with the bundle still balanced in one arm.

"What've you got there, Jimmy?" Heyes asked.

"My things," the boy replied.

"What things?"

"My clothes, and books, and, well, and everything you gave me!"

Heyes' eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. "Did you delay gettin' out of the fire to wrap all your things in that blanket?"

Sensing that this man he so looked up to was less than pleased, Jimmy's head dropped and he whispered, "Yes."

"Jimmy, look at me!" Heyes grasped the boy's shoulders firmly and when the two sets of brown eyes caught, he said sternly, "Don't you ever put yourself at risk to save things! Things can be replaced, but you can't!"

Tears welled in Jimmy's eyes and his lips quivered. "But you gave them to me! I've never had such fine things before and I thought you'd be angry if they got burned up!"

"Jimmy, I'd never be angry about anythin' like that! I'd rather buy everything all over again ten times and more than to have anythin' happen to you! You are more valuable than all the things money can buy! Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Heyes took the bundle out of Jimmy's hands and pulled him into a tight hug, Jimmy's skinny arms wrapped around his neck. "Now," he said. "We need to find you some place to stay."

"Sheriff Smith?"

Heyes looked up into the bespectacled face of Miss Davenport. "Yes?"

"I have an extra room and bed; Jimmy can stay with me."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite. Would you like to come stay with me for a while, Jimmy?" Miss Davenport squatted down to look into the boy's face, her skirts puddling around her.

"I'd like that a lot, Miss Davenport, if it wouldn't be too much of a bother to have me around!" Jimmy replied timidly.

"No bother at all! Actually it will make it that much easier to catch you up on your lessons!"

"Thanks, Miss Davenport!" Jimmy gave his teacher an enthusiastic hug also.

"Yes, thank you, Kathleen, that's taken one worry off my mind for now."

"Have you others, Joshua? Besides all the trouble of a major fire in town, I mean."

"My partner was hurt pretty bad rescuin' the horses from the fire! Looks like one might've kicked 'im in the head!"

"Oh, how awful! Is he going to be all right?" the schoolmarm gasped.

"Dr. Milburn doesn't know yet. In fact, I need to get back to him now, if you don't mind."

"Of course not, you go take care of your friend! Jimmy will be just fine with me!"

Jimmy listened to this exchange anxiously. "Mr. Jones got hurt?"

"Yeah, but it's just his head and that's as hard as a rock! Don't you worry!" Heyes tousled the dark head. "I'll see you tomorrow, or is it later today?"

"Can I come see Mr. Jones after school?"

"Sure. I'm sure Mr. Jones will be happy to see you."

"Oh, good!" Jimmy snuggled happily into the tiny woman who held him close.

Heyes narrowed his eyes thoughtfully as he looked at the two, but filed his thoughts away to be acted upon when more immediate concerns were taken care of.

His feet were like lead weights and his whole body sagged with exhaustion as he covered the short distance from the schoolyard to the ruins of the livery stable. Pretty much all that was left were smoldering embers and tendrils of smoke weaving into the night sky. The corral was still standing and it held all of the horses now, except for the one that had run off to who knew where. The smithy was also whole. More of the firefighters had spread out into the town to watch for new fires lit by flying sparks, but a few still maintained watch on the smoldering ruins.

Dr. Milburn still knelt by the Kid, whose head was now swathed in white bandages, a spot of red showing where the gash was. He looked up at Heyes' approach. "Good, you're back! I've sent someone to fetch my stretcher and then we can move your friend to my office where I can examine him in more detail."

"Beggin' your pardon, Doc, but could we take 'im t'the jail that way I'll be able t'keep an eye on him an' Sam at the same time! I suspect Sam has undone tonight what healing was done on those ribs of his."

The doctor cast a glowering look the wrangler's way. "You are probably quite right! While I applaud your efforts, Mr. Adamson, you surely did yourself no good!"

Sam, still propped on the trough holding his side, retorted, "I couldn't just sit by and let the town burn without helping, could I?"

"Perhaps not," the doctor admitted. A man ran up at that moment with the stretcher. "Ah, thank you, Daniel! Now we must very carefully move Sheriff Jones onto the stretcher - - we don't want to jostle his brain any more than it has been!"

Heyes maneuvered one arm under the Kid's shoulders and the other under his neck so that his head nestled in the crook of his arm, while Daniel took hold of his legs, and together they lifted the Kid and shifted him onto the stretcher.

"Excellent! You did that very nicely, Sheriff Smith!" Dr. Milburn praised the other man.

"I've had more practice than I'd like to have had, Doc," Heyes replied somberly.

"Very well, let's take Sheriff Jones to the jail, which seems to have become Coleville's hospital for the time being!"

Heyes took one end of the stretcher and Daniel took the other and they raised it gently. They carried it as smoothly as possible to the jail with the doctor and Sam following close behind.

Transferring the Kid from the stretcher to the cot was more problematic but was accomplished in short order and Dr. Milburn began his examination. "Does anyone know how he was injured?"

"Since he was dealin' with the horses I'd say kicked in the head is likely," Heyes replied.

"Hmm, yes, the gash could quite easily have been caused by a horse's hoof. Just grazed him, I'd say, though - - a direct blow to the head from a horse would most likely be fatal!" He opened his bag and removed the same stubby candle and lit it. Using his thumb and forefinger he pulled back the eyelids on one of the Kid's eyes and moved the light close and then pulled it back. He did the same thing with the other eye.

"Why do you do that, Doc?"

"I'm testing the pupil's reaction to light, how well it opens and closes, in order to assess whether he has a concussion, or rather the severity of the concussion since the mere fact that he was knocked unconscious is indicative of a concussion! Now I need to see if we can wake him. Would you like to give it a try?"

"Sure, Doc." Heyes took the doctor's place sitting on the edge of the bed and looked at the pallid face of his best friend. How young and vulnerable he looked. "Is it okay if I pat his cheek a little?"

"Certainly, as long as it's light."

"Thaddeus? Can you hear me, Thaddeus? We need you to wake up." After no response, Heyes lightly patted the Kid's cheek and in a rougher, more commanding tone said, "Wake up, Thaddeus! The boys're waitin' an' you're holdin' us all up!" Curry's eyes flickered and Heyes could see his eyeballs moving underneath. "That's good, Thaddeus, you can do it! Wake up now, it's me, Joshua!"

Curry's eyebrows drew together and his eyes opened a tiny slit, then closed, blinked and opened more fully. "Joshua?"

"I'm right here, Thaddeus."

Curry turned toward his partner's voice and squinted. "I can't see you very well; you're all blurry!" He blinked a few more times and squinted again. "An' why are there two of you?" He groaned. "Now that just ain't fair!"

Heyes laughed softly. "There's only one of me, Thaddeus! You just can't see too good cuz you got a knock on the head! Do you remember what happened?"

Curry licked his lips and thought for a couple of moments. "I remember a horse," he said finally. "It was scared, rearin' up, an' I was tryin' t'get 'im down . . .that's all I remember!"

"Don't worry, it'll come back to you. How's your head?"

"Hurts like the Devil! I'm sleepy . . ." his voice faded as he drifted to sleep.

"Well, done, Joshua, if I may call you Joshua!" Dr. Milburn applauded. "You have a wonderful bedside manner! Have you ever considered becoming a doctor?"

"No, can't say as I have. How 'bout Thaddeus, is he gonna be okay?"

"He has a moderate concussion, I'd say, judging by his visual and memory impairments. He's going to be sleepy, but I'd like you to attempt to wake him every couple of hours or so just to make sure he's not getting any worse. If there's ever a time when you can't wake him, let me know immediately! I don't think it will happen, but just in case. Other than that, keep him in bed for a couple of days. He'll most likely be dizzy, perhaps nauseous, may even experience vomiting - - none of these are anything to worry about, they'll pass. Plenty of fluids, light meals like soup for the first couple of meals to be sure his stomach can handle it. Of course, you know where to find me if you have any questions or concerns."

"Yes, I do, thanks, Doc!" Relief flooded Heyes upon hearing that his partner would recover.

"You're very welcome." Dr. Milburn turned to Sam, who sat quietly on his own cot. "As for you, young man, no more heavy activity like tonight! You may get up, move around, but that's it! Those ribs need time to knit!"

"Well, if you can promise no more fires, then I'll promise to stay away from the pump!" Sam retorted.

"I think if any more fires were going to be spawned by this one, we'd know about it by now, but I think you get my meaning, don't you?"

"Yes, sir, I'll try to be more careful," the wrangler said contritely.

"See that you are!" The doctor closed his bag with a snap. "Well, I'm going to see if I can get a bit more sleep before the sun comes up! I'd recommend the same for you boys! Be seeing you!"

"Thanks again, Doc! Good night!" Heyes said in farewell.

"Night, Doc," said Sam.

"I don't know 'bout you, Sam, but I need a drink!"

"I could use one myelf," Sam replied fervently. "It's been a helluva night!"

"You can say that again!" Heyes said as he poured two generous measures of whiskey into the tin coffee cups. "Thought I was in Hell for a few minutes there! The real thing can't be much worse than that!"

"Fire can't be a good way to die," Sam commented with a shudder.

"Truth be told, Sam, I can't think of a good way t'die! Been tryin' to avoid it a lotta years now!" Heyes took a large swig of the whiskey and sighed heavily.

"Sounds like you've led an exciting life, Joshua."

"Exciting is one word for it, I guess, but I gotta tell you, I'm lookin' forward t'less excitement as a rancher! This job wasn't supposed t'be so exciting. Our friend, Sheriff Lom Trevors from Porterville, said Coleville was a quiet little town!"

"Usually is," Sam agreed. "I've been here over two years now and I've never seen so much goings on here!"

Heyes sighed again. "That's kinda what I thought - - me an' Thaddeus just draw excitement to us without even tryin'!" He tossed off the rest of his whiskey. "You'd better get some rest like Dr. Milburn said."

"What about you? You've had just as rough of a night as me, if not more!"

"I'm gonna make a pot of coffee so I can be awake t'wake Thaddeus up every coupla hours. Don't worry, I tend t'not need much sleep."

"All right," the wrangler said somewhat reluctantly. "But if you need me to spell you just let me know, okay?"

"Thanks, Sam."

Sam realized the sheriff hadn't exactly said he would wake him, but, as he measured his length on the bed in his cell, every part of his body had to voice its complaints, particularly his ribs, and he felt exhaustion flood over him. His last sight was of the lean, dark sheriff stirring up the fire in the stove and setting the pot of coffee to boil.

Chapter Eleven

Heyes sat leaning back in the sheriff's chair, his feet up on the desk, watching as the windows grew lighter with the rising sun. He hadn't slept - - the horrific events of the night wouldn't allow it. Every time he had closed his eyes the inferno inside the livery stable filled his mind's eye, along with images of Jimmy cowering in the corner of his room, and the Kid sprawled in the stall under the flaming roof beams just waiting to fall. No, sleep had successfully evaded him this night.

Following the doctor's instructions, he had wakened his partner twice so far, just as easily as the first time, spoke to him briefly each time and then let him go back to sleep. He figured it was about time to do it again.

Swinging his feet to the floor, he stood and stretched the kinks out of his back. Kid Curry looked nearly angelic when he was sleeping under normal circumstances, but that image was marred today by the bloody bandage around his forehead. He sat carefully on the edge of the bed and gently shook his partner's shoulder.

"Kid, wake up!" he said softly so as to not disturb Sam.

"What is it, Heyes?" groaned the gunslinger. "Can't you let me sleep?"

Heyes grinned at the normal sounding grumbles of his friend. "The Doc said I had t'wake you every two hours t'make sure you're still alive!"

Blue eyes glittered through half-opened eyelids as Kid Curry growled, "Well, he ain't gonna be alive for long an' neither are you if'n I don't get some sleep!"

"No need t'get proddy, Kid! I know your head's pretty hard, but we still don't wanna take any chances!"

"I'll be fine if you just lemme get some sleep!"

"How's your headache?"

"It didn't hurt until y'woke me up!"

"Fine! Go back t'sleep!"

"I will." Almost instantly Curry's eyes shut and he was asleep again.

Just as instantly it dawned on Heyes that they'd used each other's real names and he looked quickly over to see that Sam was still asleep. They were going to have to tell the wrangler who they really were, but Heyes wanted to wait until they were at least some ways from town just in case they had misjudged his character, and so that he could break the news gently.

He stood and walked slowly to the door, his hands absently rubbing his lower back as he yawned. He leaned against the door jam and looked down the street to where the livery stable had been. He could see a small patch of charred ground and some diehard wisps of smoke twisting lazily into the sky, but that was all. The street was empty. After a couple of hours of standing guard for new fires it had been decided that it was safe to retire for what few hours sleep the townspeople could get. It wouldn't be a lot because soon the children would be getting up to get ready for school. Someone had suggested canceling school for the day but everyone else felt that a normal routine would be better for the children after such a traumatic event. However they did agree that it could begin two hours later, while ending at the same time, to allow for lost sleep.

He was tired, an exhaustion that sank deep into his bones tired. His muscles ached, as did his chest from breathing the acrid smoke and his eyes felt as if each eyelash was a lead weight. His brain fairly buzzed with sensory overload. He was fairly sure he must have experienced this depth of exhaustion before, but he was at a loss to remember when. So fogged was his brain he didn't hear the soft step behind him.

"You're asleep on your feet, Joshua! Go lay down before you fall down - - I'll watch Thaddeus for a while." Sam put a gentle arm across Heyes' shoulders. "Come on, let me help you."

"I am a little tired," Heyes agreed. "Just for an hour, though, then wake me - - all right?"

"All right, one hour - - I'm sure it'll fix you right up!"

Heyes sat on the bed in the cell next to the Kid's and allowed the wrangler to pull off his boots. He lay back and felt the strength drain from his body, barely aware of Sam spreading a blanket over him, and then the bliss of oblivion swept over him.

The glare of the sun through the cell window woke him and he was instantly aware that Sam had allowed him to sleep longer than an hour! In consternation he sat up quickly, pulling his watch from his pocket. "Ten-thirty!" he exclaimed.

"You needed the sleep," Sam commented from the cell just across.

"I thought you said you'd wake me in an hour!"

The wrangler shrugged. "I tried! You wouldn't wake up! I was concerned so when Dr. Milburn came to check on Thaddeus I asked him to look at you! He said you were just dead-tired and to let you wake up on your own. He also said you could stop waking up Thaddeus and let him wake up on his own, too."

"I slept through the doctor's visit?" Heyes could hardly believe his ears.

"Not even a twitch!"

"I must be slippin'!" the ex-outlaw leader muttered.

"Nothing wrong with being tired after what you went though last night, Joshua. By the way, Jimmy came by on his way to school. He saw you were asleep and said he'd be back after school."

"Jimmy came in and I still didn't wake up? Yeah, I guess I must've been tired!" Heyes was chagrined. "Well, I'm awake now and feeling much better."

"Are you sure? Dr. Milburn figured you'd sleep the whole day."

"Hah! If I slept the whole day an' anybody who knows me is around, they'd bury me figuring I was dead!" His stomach growled. "Seems I'm hungry, though."

"Sara came and dropped off some cold fried chicken, potato salad, and biscuits, thinking you might be hungry since she hadn't seen either of you for breakfast."

"Great! I slept through that, too! Sounds like you could've sold tickets, so many people came through here!"

"Have to admit I thought about it, Joshua, but then I figured that might be just a little disrespectful and all!" The rusty moustache lifted in a broad grin.

"Huh! Good of you," Heyes growled. "So where's this chicken?"

The waitress had packed a complete picnic basket, including plates and utensils. Heyes loaded up a plate and ate it in a manner that would have done Kid Curry proud! Replete, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, "That was good! Now is there anything else that happened while I was sleeping?"

"No, that's pretty much it."

"Good."

Heyes got up and walked to where the Kid continued sleeping. He could easily see his chest rising and falling in a regular rhythm. "Has he been awake since I went to sleep?"

"No, and the doctor didn't try to wake him up either. He just looked in his eyes again and said to let him sleep his fill."

"Well, he's seemed t'know his business this far." Heyes paused briefly and then said, "Would you mind staying with him for a little while? I suspect one of us sheriffs ought to put in an appearance after such an event."

"Of course, Joshua."

"Much obliged."

There was a lot of activity by this time at the ruins of the livery stable and Heyes walked briskly down to see what was going on.

As he got closer he saw that a crew of about ten men were busy clearing the space of all the charred wood, stacking it in a freight wagon to be hauled away. A large man, both in height and girth, stood by supervising. He spotted Heyes and bellowed, "Sheriff Smith! Or is it Sheriff Jones?"

"You had it right the first time, Mr., no, Mayor Moody!" Heyes could tell by the bellow that Mr. Moody had been the one bellowing orders last night. "What's going on?"

"These folk volunteered to help in the clean up, and there'll be a fresh team coming on in a couple of hours. We should have all the debris cleared away by sundown."

"Then what? There's a corral full of horses, a corral, I might add, that's too small for all of them, and all the hay's burned up!"

"I see you're a worrier, my boy, but it's all under control. Mr. Cole and some of his men rode in a couple of hours ago - - he'd seen the fire all the way to his place so they came to find out what had happened. Mr. Cole very promptly and generously offered a wagonload of feed and enough lumber to rebuild the stable! The feed will be delivered this afternoon and the first wagonload of lumber will arrive first thing in the morning! Then we'll have - - you've heard of a barn raising, haven't you?" At Heyes' nod he went on, "Then we'll have a livery stable raising! Otis will be back in business inside three days!"

"Mr. Cole is giving you lumber? And feed? Why?" For the second time that day, Heyes could hardly believe his ears.

"Mr. Cole's a fine man, Sheriff Smith! He's a member of this community and as such benefits from things being set right as soon as possible! He's done plenty of good for this town previous to this and I expect he'll continue to do so after this!"

This new information shed a whole new light on Adam Cole - - from mustang killer to town benefactor! Heyes wondered how this information would sit with Sam Adamson.

"What about the fire, mayor?"

"What about it, Sheriff Smith?"

"Do you think there was anythin' suspicious about it that I should look into?"

"You mean, did someone start it on purpose?" The mayor was shocked. "Why would anyone do that?"

"I'm sure I don't know! This is your town - - I've only been here a week."

"No, these things happen from time to time - - a stray spark, someone careless throwing a match or cigarette - - no need to look further than that!"

"Okay, mayor, you're probably right. It's just that my partner an' I take our responsibilities seriously."

"Yes, so I've noticed, though arresting Mrs. Cuthbert may have been overenthusiastic. However," he cut off Heyes' protest before he could begin. "You were well within the law and everything has been straightened out, so I'll say no more about it. How is Sheriff Jones, by the way?"

"Besides a nasty gash on his head, he has a concussion. Dr. Milburn says he'll be fine, but he'll hafta stay in bed a day or two."

"That is excellent news! I'm sorry he was injured on our behalf."

"It's all part of the job, mayor. If you have everything under control here, I should go back - - he needs to be watched carefully today."

"Everything is certainly under control. Send Sheriff Jones our wishes that he get well soon."

"I will, mayor, thank you."

Kid Curry was still asleep when Heyes got back and Sam reported that he had been since he left. He wanted to wake him just for the assurance that he was all right, but he forced himself to ignore the urge.

He sat at the desk and said to Sam, "I had a little talk with the mayor just now. He told me Mr. Cole is donating feed for the horses and lumber to rebuild the livery stable!"

Sam nodded his head. "Yeah, I can see him doing that. I think I've mentioned he's a decent man - - he just has a blind stubborn spot when it comes to the mustangs!"

"That's gotta cost a pretty penny, though."

"He can afford it and he knows it'll give him that much more influence in the town - - not that he needs anymore!"

"So he's not just doin' it outta the kindess of his heart!"

"People usually have more than one reason for doing a thing, don't they?"

"Thaddeus an' I like to think there's a little bad in everybody, or good as the case may be."

Sam seemed confused by this response, but Heyes was saved from explaining by a groaned, "Joshua?"

Heyes raced to his partner's bedside. "Thaddeus? How ya feelin'?"

"Terrible." Blue eyes stared a long moment, then shut tightly for a moment, then reopened to stare again. "Aw, Joshua, why's there two of ya?" Curry asked in a plaintive voice.

"You still see two of me?"

"Still?"

"You said the same thing last night."

Blond eyebrows drew into a frown, which caused a wince of pain, as he said, "I don't remember that. Last thing I remember is that horse rearin' up! Did it get out okay?"

Heyes snorted in disgust, "You're worried about the animal that nearly killed you, or at least nearly got you killed?"

"Wasn't its fault, Joshua."

"It's probably in the next county by now! It practically ran me over! Now, back to two of me . . ."

Curry squinted his eyes up almost closed and said, "If I squint like this there's only one of you - - man, is that a relief! One of you is all a body can take!"

Heyes laughed. "Look on the bright side - - I'd have myself to talk to and folk wouldn't think I'm crazy!"

"D'ya think I could have a drink of water, Joshua?"

"Of course!" Heyes looked around. "Hmm, we should have a pitcher here. Hang on, I'll fill up the coffee pot and use that."

"I'll do it, Joshua," Sam volunteered.

"You'll do nothin' of the sort! You'll rest like the doc said - - you did more than your share of pumpin' water last night!" Heyes scolded.

Curry chuckled weakly, though it made his head throb, as his partner stomped out of the office. "Poor Joshua, now he's gotta nursemaid two people!"

"I think he gets a perverse satisfaction out of bossing people around, Thaddeus," Sam snorted.

"I don't know 'bout that perverse word, but, yeah, Joshua does like bossin' people! He was the best . . ." Curry clamped his mouth shut on what he had been about to say.

"The best what?" the wrangler asked curiously.

"Nothin', nevermind," the injured man mumbled, chagrined that he had almost given away who they really were.

"Okay," Sam shrugged.

Curry could hear Heyes' footsteps coming back and he pushed himself to a sitting position, only to find the room spinning dizzily around him and a stabbing pain shooting through his head! He groaned and leaned over, clutching his head in his two hands.

"Thaddeus?" Sam said, worriedly and stood to go help the other man, but Heyes had come in and seen the same thing and hurriedly brushed past the wrangler to his partner's side.

He set the water filled coffee pot by the bedside and wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders, easing him back onto the pillow. "What th'hell're you tryin' t'prove, Thaddeus?"

The Kid's eyes were clamped shut from the pain, his hands still to his head, as he rolled slightly to his side, his legs pulling up, and he moaned, "S - -sick!"

Thinking quickly Heyes reached for the chamber pot provided in each cell just as Curry leaned over the edge of the bed, retching pitifully. He had little but bile in his stomach, which made it all the more painful. Once the spasms had stopped, Heyes tugged his bandana loose and gently wiped the other man's mouth before easing him back up and onto his back.

Heyes' eyes watched his partner with concern as he lay with his eyes closed, muffled groans escaping past his clamped lips. Dr. Milburn had said this could happen with a concussion, but it worried him anyway. He turned to speak to Sam only to find him gone! He sighed heavily.

Not knowing what else he could do to soothe the Kid's distress, he poured water on the unsoiled part of his bandana and gently swabbed the perspiration from the unbandaged portion of his face and down his neck. Then he had an idea. He leaned close to his friend's ear and said very softly, "Kid, I want you to listen to me and do exactly as I say, okay?"

Heyes' voice pierced through the maelstrom of pain that threatened to burst Curry's skull and from somewhere he found strength to nod slightly.

"Good," Heyes continued just as softly. "Now I want you to take a slow, deep breath and then let it out just as slow, okay? Follow me." He inhaled slowly, and as loudly as he could, listening to the Kid's ragged breath try to match it. Then he exhaled slowly in the same way and the other followed. "Very good. Again." They breathed in unison again, this time the Kid's was a little less ragged. "Put your arms down to your sides and breathe again." He helped ease the limbs down gently. "Another. Keep taking slow deep breaths." Heyes watched the Kid's chest rise and fall in the slow even rhythm and he saw the tension in his face smooth out, although some tightness remained around his eyes indicating some pain remained.

He heard hurried footsteps on the boardwalk and then Sam's voice saying, "Hurry, Doc!"

Dr. Milburn's voice replied, "I am not as young as you, Mr. Adamson, nor do I have your long legs! I'm hurrying as fast as I can!"

Sam preceded the doctor into the office, a look of anxiety clouding his face. Dr. Milburn followed, bag in hand. "Now what seems to be the problem?" He approached his patient and Heyes and said, "Mr. Adamson tells me Sheriff Jones is in extreme pain and vomiting. Is that so?"

Heyes nodded.

"I believe I told you that vomiting or simply nausea were likely occurrences, did I not?"

"Yes, you did."

"What, if anything, set it off?"

"He sat up while I went to get him a drink of water."

"Most likely all sudden like! He was dizzy, too, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"This is why he isn't to move, why he needs to lie still for at least another twenty four hours. His brain got sloshed around by the kick in the head and sudden movements only slosh it more!" Dr. Milburn looked at Curry lying still on the bed, his chest rising slowly and rhythmically. "Is he awake?"

"I'm awake, Doc," Curry whispered.

"Well, I might as well take a look at you while I'm here."

"Thanks a lot, Doc," the gunslinger said as sarcastically as he could in a whisper.

Dr. Milburn took out his trusty candle, lit it, and pried open one of the Kid's eyelids. "Uh-huh. Mmhmm. A little better reaction than there was. When you open your eyes, Sheriff Jones, does the light make your head hurt worse?"

"It's Thaddeus, Doc, an' yes, it does."

"Uh-huh. You don't seem to be in terrible pain at this moment," the doctor commented.

"Joshua made me breathe an' it's kinda settled the headache a bit." Curry still spoke in a whisper and moved only his lips as he did so; his eyes remained closed.

"Ah, well, yes, breathing is a good idea!" the doctor agreed wryly.

Heyes allowed a small grin to grace his face now the crisis seemed to be over. "Deep breathing, Doc, slow an' steady. I discovered it helped once when I had a real head-cracker of a headache, so I thought it couldn't hurt Thaddeus to try it. Is there anything you can give him for the pain?"

"Yes, there is, but I'd much rather not. The concussion has already made him sleepy, the medication will only make that worse - - not what we want. If his stomach is empty, which I'm sure it is since he was vomiting, the medication will create its own nausea, something I'm sure Thaddeus would rather not have. Time is the best healer, Thaddeus, if you can tolerate the pain another day or two. Of course it will get less and less over that day or two, it won't stay like this all the time. In the meantime you can help to lessen it by darkening this room as much as possible, perhaps covering the windows with something to keep the sun out. Water and clear broth to eat for the next twenty-four hours. Oh, and keep breathing, Thaddeus!"

"Okay, Doc, thanks."

Dr. Milburn turned to Heyes and said, "You really should consider becoming a doctor - - you have the knack."

"Thanks, Doc, but we've got plans already."

"Too bad. You know where I am if there are any more crises."

"Thanks again, Dr. Milburn." Heyes said as the doctor left the office. He then turned to Sam and stuck out his hand. Sam gripped it as Heyes said fervently, "Thanks, Sam, for goin' for the doctor."

"I was really scared, Joshua, I thought Thaddeus was dying!" Sam replied sheepishly. "Seems kind of foolish now."

"It's never foolish t'care about somebody, Sam, an' it's better t'be safe than sorry! Can you help me get these windows covered? We'll use the blankets here an' then I'll go ask to borrow some from the hotel for the beds."

"Sure thing."

Within a very few minutes the sheriff's office was nearly dark - - blankets covered every window that didn't have a blind and those that did had been pulled. A glow from the stove provided some light and Heyes lit an oil lamp, but kept the flame low. He went to ask the Kid if it was helping his headache but found his partner had fallen asleep again. He sighed heavily again, but this time with relief, and eased into the sheriff's chair feeling totally drained emotionally.

After several minutes of just sitting and collecting himself, Heyes looked up and over at Sam, who sat patiently, seemingly comfortable with silence. "Would you mind keepin' an eye on Thaddeus for me for a few minutes, Sam? I need t'see if the café can come up with some clear broth an' maybe a pitcher, too, cuz I sure need t'make some coffee!"

"Sure, Joshua, since I've got to rest anyway!" Sam replied genially.

"Much obliged." The sheriff stopped his walk to the door and turned back to say with a grin, "Probably oughta make you a deputy while you're here, Sam!"

"Oh yeah! Can't you just see Mr. Cole's face if he came in here and saw me wearing a badge instead of languishing in a cell?" White teeth flashed beneath the moustache as the wrangler chuckled at the vision.

Heyes laughed also. "Yeah, it might be worth it t'do just that! No point in rilin' 'im, though, since he's bein' so agreeable an' generous. I'll be right back."

"Take your time - - neither of us is going anywhere!"

The afternoon sunlight was hard on Heyes' eyes after the dimness of the office, so he tugged his hat brim a little lower to shade them while they adjusted.

He stepped into the street only to have to stop and wait for a horse and rider trotting into town. The horse was a handsome buckskin with four black socks, he noticed with admiration, but then his eyes lifted to the rider and the shock of recognition was quickly followed by a chill of dread along his nerves. Mace Chandler here in Coleville - - just when Heyes had thought things couldn't get worse! It had been ten years since he'd seen him last so maybe he was wrong - - he needed to get a look at his tell tale eyes. The problem with that was Mace was sure to recognize him as Hannibal Heyes, who was always accompanied by Kid Curry, and the Kid was in no condition to have to deal with Mace right now.

Heyes' eyes followed the rider until he reined in at the saloon. Too much to hope for that he'd just ride on through! All of the former outlaw leader's instincts screamed at him to run, but the Kid was in no condition to do that either. Besides, he had taken an oath to protect the people of Coleville and he had never broken his word yet. Was there some way to avoid being seen by Mace? He threw that idea out before it took root - - what kind of sheriff hid out in his office when trouble rode in to town? No, he had to find some way to neutralize this possible threat.

He strode quickly to the café where Sara told him it would be no trouble to make some clear broth for the Kid and kindly lent him a pitcher also. Heyes thanked her and hurried back to the jail where he pumped the container full of water and put it and a cup handy on the desk. The chamber pot had been forgotten in the confusion of everything else so he took a moment to take it out back, dump the meager contents in the privy, and then rinse it out at the pump.

His housekeeping chores done, he asked Sam, "Would you mind watchin' 'im a little longer? There's somethin' I've gotta check out at the saloon."

"Sure, Joshua."

School was letting out as Heyes walked down the boardwalk and before he could get to the saloon Jimmy ran up to him and asked, breathlessly, "How's Mr. Jones, Mr. Smith? Can I see him?"

"He's gonna be fine, Jimmy, but he's sleepin' right now. Maybe y'oughta wait 'til tomorrow to visit 'im."

"Oh, okay." Disappointment was plain on the boy's face.

To distract him, Heyes took a nickel out of his pocket, "Why don't you take this over to the store an' get some candy."

"A whole nickel's worth? Wow! Thanks, Mr. Smith!" Jimmy was perfectly willing to be distracted and ran off to the store.

Heyes finished the distance to the saloon and pushed through the batwing doors, pausing in the entrance to let his eyes adjust and get the lay of the land. His eyes roved over the sparsely populated room, gauging the risks involved in confronting Mace here. Clarence sat at the table he had made his, playing his endless games of solitaire until the evening customers came. He caught Heyes' eyes and nodded, flicking his eyes to the newcomer at the bar. Heyes returned his nod and turned his attention to that very person.

Mace had ordered a bottle of whiskey and now leaned on the bar savoring a glass of the amber liquid. He was much like Heyes remembered him from this angle - - tall, lean, broad-shouldered, wearing his signature fringed buckskin jacket, his gunbelt buckled over the top of it, and the hat on his head was adorned with a beaded hatband, a hawk's feather jutting out of it. The hair that hung below the hat was a nondescript brown and long enough to brush its owner's shoulders.

Heyes sauntered over and leaned his left elbow on the bar, facing Mace, his badge not immediately visible. With a serious look and a shake of his head he warned Gus to stay where he was at the end of the bar where he would be out of hearing distance. "Mace," he said quietly by way of greeting.

The man turned to the sheriff and Heyes felt the same chill he had always felt when looking into those eyes. One eye was a blue so light as to be almost white, and as cold as the glacier ice it resembled, while the other was yellow like a wolf's and just as feral seeming. Many men, Heyes knew, considered Mace bad medicine just because of those eerie eyes. Now those eyes widened slightly in surprised recognition of the man who had addressed him. "Heyes," he acknowledged equally softly.

"Can I have a word with you at that table over there?" Heyes asked, gesturing to an isolated corner table.

"Why not?" Mace shrugged and picked up his bottle and glass. "Lead the way."

They both sat at the table facing each other yet angled in such a way that they could both still see the door. Heyes got straight to the point, "You got business in Coleville, Mace, or are you just passin' through?"

Mace's mismatched eyes narrowed as he poured whiskey into his glass. "Don't see how it's any o' your business, Heyes."

"It is my business, Mace, cuz this is my town!" Heyes tapped the star on his vest and smiled to himself as the other man's mouth dropped open.

"You're a sheriff?" he exclaimed. "What fool in 'is right mind is gonna hire Hannibal Heyes as the town's sheriff? You got Kid Curry as your deputy?"

"If you haven't heard, Mace, the Kid an' me've gone straight. You ain't answered my question. You got business, or you just passin' through?"

"Well, I hadn't thought none about it really, Heyes, but seein' you here reminds me o' some unfinished business I got with the Kid. Reckon it's 'bout time t'call 'im on it."

Heyes' eyes darkened to almost black with anger and his lips tightened as he said, "You've got no business with the Kid that don't go through me first, Mace!"

"You ain't got no rep as a gunny, Heyes! Callin' you out'd be like takin' candy from a baby!" Mace sneered.

"Just cuz I ain't got a reputation for havin' a hair-trigger temper like you, Mace, doesn't mean I can't handle a gun just as well."

Mace eyed his opponent carefully, assessing this new information. "Nah!" he said finally. "If'n you'd been any good with a gun, you wouldn't've had Curry doin' all your gun work for ya."

Heyes shrugged. "You're welcome t'think that if you want, Mace, but let me give you a piece of advice - - get out of town! If you think you're gonna stick around and cause trouble in my town, with the Kid or anyone else, you'd better think again, cuz I'll be keepin' an eye on you!"

"You said all you gotta say?" Mace growled.

"For now."

"Good, then I'm gonna mosey on over t'the hotel an' get me a room!"

Heyes sighed as he watched the gunslinger swagger out of the saloon, wondering if he could've handled it better. He stood and Clarence gestured him over to his table.

"I take it you are acquainted with Mace Chandler, Sheriff," the gambler stated.

"Yeah, we've had a couple of run ins in the past," Heyes replied.

"As have I. A most unpleasant fellow, a terrible poker player, and an even worse loser! There will be trouble if he stays long in town."

"Don't I know it. We'll keep a close eye on 'im. You be careful if he plays at your table, Clarence."

"That I will, Sheriff, and I appreciate your concern. I will alert you if I see anything untoward."

"Thanks, Clarence."

"At your service," the gentleman gambler replied with a gracious nod.

Heyes left the saloon suddenly very tired and with no rest in sight.

The Kid was awake and drinking a cup of water with Sam's help when Heyes got back to the jail and he felt a little bit of the weight lift from his shoulders. He leaned against the cell door, his arms crossed, watching until Sam gently laid Curry's head back down on the pillow.

"Hey, Joshua," Curry said weakly, catching sight of his partner.

"Hey yourself. How ya feelin'?" Heyes replied.

"Better than as bad as I felt before," was the confusing reply.

Heyes' brows knit in a frown. "What? That didn't make no sense at all!"

"I felt terrible before, now I feel bad but better than terrible," the gunslinger turned sheriff explained.

"Oh, well, now it's as clear as mud!"

Curry smiled slightly and then closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again he said, "I wish my head would stop hurtin' an' I wish one a you'd go away, Joshua!"

"You're still seein' double?" Heyes had hoped for some improvement.

"Well," Curry began and looked intently at his friend. "The two of you do seem t'be gettin' closer together."

"That's somethin', I guess. How's your stomach?"

"Empty."

"I mean, do you still feel sick?"

"No, just a little hungry."

"Doc said you could only have water an' clear broth - - you wanna give some broth a try?"

"If I don't wanna starve t'death, I guess I better!"

"Sam, would you mind goin' t'the café an' bringin' over some broth, if it's ready?" Heyes asked the hovering wrangler.

"Sure, Joshua! I could use the fresh air." He pulled his dirty white hat onto his head. "There's a pot of coffee on the stove if you want some."

"Thanks, Sam. D'you mind, Thaddeus?"

"Go ahead, you look like you need it."

"I look like I need it? What do you think you look like?" Heyes exclaimed as he went and poured a cup full of the hot black liquid.

Sam had clearly gone and Thaddeus said, "Seriously, Heyes, you looked worried when I first saw you right now. Is everythin' okay?"

"I'm just worried 'bout you, Kid, that's all! I know you've got a hard head, but that was a pretty hard knock you took."

"Sorry you have t'do all the sheriffin', Heyes. I worry that I ain't there t'back you up!"

"Hey, Kid, what more can happen here than's already happened?"

"I shudder t'think!"

"You quit worryin' 'bout me an' sheriffin' an' just work on gettin' yourself better so we can get on the road when Sheriff Watkins gets back Monday!"

"It'll be good t'get outta here, Heyes," Curry said soberly. "It ain't good for us t'be in one place so long like this - - sooner or later somebody's gonna recognize us!"

Curry's comments were hitting too close to home and Heyes almost had to bite his tongue to keep from blurting out how right his partner was! "There y'go worryin' again!" was all he said and was saved from any further dangerous conversation by Sam returning with a towel wrapped coffee pot. Heyes raised his eyebrows in inquiry.

"Sara put it in a coffee pot so we could pour it into a cup - - make it easier for Thaddeus to drink," Sam explained.

"Girl's got a good head on her shoulders," Heyes remarked.

He filled a cup with the rich beef broth and eased the Kid's head up off the pillow so he could sip the liquid. It took some time, but he finished the whole cup and sighed as he lay down again. "That was good! If y'don't mind, Joshua, I think I'll sleep some more."

"Sure, Thaddeus, you do that!"

Eyelids slid over the blue eyes and Curry drifted off.

With grim purpose, Heyes broke open his pistol and cleaned it with a thoroughness that would have done Kid Curry proud.

Chapter Twelve

Heyes rested as much as he could that night because he knew he was going to need a clear mind for sure and, if all went wrong, quick reflexes, too. Much of it was just rest, not sleep, as he lay awake staring into the darkness above him, mindful of every restless move his partner in the next cell made. He found a grim amusement in considering the many times they'd found themselves in a jail cell but this being the only time they were free to get up and walk out an unlocked door.

As per usual, he was up and stirring up the fire just as the sky began to lighten. He put on a fresh pot of coffee and was sipping his first cup when his sharp ears caught a soft curse followed by a groan. He turned to see the Kid sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands.

"What're you tryin' t'do, Thaddeus?" he growled.

"I'm tryin' t'get up an' do my business, if it's any business of yours, Joshua!" the injured gunslinger snarled back.

"It is my business since you ain't supposed t'be getting' up! Let me help you."

"I gotta get up by myself sometime, Joshua!" Curry protested.

"Yeah, but not today!" Heyes had set down his coffee and come to his partner's bedside.

"Fine, help me up then!"

"You're mighty proddy today, Thaddeus," the other man chided as he helped lift and then balance his friend.

"I'm tired of my head poundin', an' bein' dizzy, an' my stomach churnin', an' most of all seein' two of you! 'Sides a body appreciates a bit of privacy for certain things."

"After all these years, Thaddeus?" Heyes rolled his eyes.

Curry sighed. "It just ain't been long since the last time you had t'help me, Joshua."

"An' before that it was you helpin' me! What's so different now?"

"I'm tired of it, is all."

"Me, too, Thaddeus, but we'll be home soon an' then, with a little luck, I won't ever hafta help you t'the privy again! Or you me! Mary can help you next time," Heyes added, wickedly.

"I oughta flatten ya for that crack, Joshua!"

"My turn t'ask you what's happened t'your sense of humor!

"Guess the horse kicked it outta my head," the blond replied ruefully. "Why do I only feel dizzy an' sick t'my stomach when I'm standin' up?"

"Cuz y'ain't supposed t'be standin' up, that's why! Let's get you back down now."

Heyes eased his partner down to his bed and noted the sheen of perspiration on the Kid's forehead. He touched the back of his hand to the other's cheek. "You startin' t'fever?"

"Nah, just hard work keepin' my stomach on the inside, is all."

"You could be right - - you don't feel too warm. How 'bout a drink?"

"Whiskey?" Curry asked hopefully.

"Water." Heyes frowned.

"Okay," the boyish sheriff sighed, but drank the water thirstily and asked for more.

"I've got the broth warmin'."

"I think I'll wait a little while for that, Joshua." Curry closed his eyes in exhaustion from just the exertion of getting to his feet. "I hate feelin' like this," he whispered barely audibly.

"I know, Thaddeus, I know," Heyes replied equally softly and patted the Kid's shoulder. "I'm gonna go make sure the town's still there - - I'll be back soon."

"Okay, but be careful cuz y'ain't got me watchin' your back."

"I'm a whipsnake, remember?"

Curry only snorted in reply.

Heyes walked out into the early morning chill and took a deep breath of the crisp air; it wouldn't be long now before he had to break out his old gray jacket. He could see no other people on the street at this hour, but the light was on in the café and smoke rose from its chimney. Breakfast could wait a few more minutes, though.

He turned his steps to the future livery stable to check on the progress of the rebuilding and the comfort of the horses. He was amazed to see that all the rubble had been cleared away and the dimensions for the new stable laid out with twine tied to stakes. A large pile of lumber was stacked neatly nearby. One of the sides of the stable had already been framed and lay in wait for its brothers. Heyes knew that when all four sides had been framed then everyone would come together and with ropes and poles and brute strength lift the frames and while some held them in place others would secure them together. Then the planks that enclosed the walls would be nailed up by dozens of willing hands, the shingles laid with care, while inside others constructed the stalls and bins and troughs. Growing up on a farm in Kansas, Heyes had seen several barn raisings and it had never ceased to amaze him how much could be accomplished in one day when an entire community came together to cooperate in its doing. He knew the mayor's assertion that it would be built inside three days was mere fact, not a boast.

The restless movement of the horses drew his attention away and he strode to the horse filled corral. The post and rail structure hadn't been built to hold so many animals as it did, but there was no help for it and the overcrowded conditions wouldn't hurt them in the long run. There were at least twenty animals, although Heyes kept losing the exact count since they kept milling about. He spotted his black mare and the Kid's bay, Sam's horse Shiloh, and glaringly obvious was the buckskin Mace Chandler had ridden in on. Although he had known he would find it here, still he had harbored the dimmest of hopes that he'd decided to ride on. Called back to his duty, he quickly noted that there was sufficient hay and water and turned back towards the center of town.

He had the choice of any table in the café when he entered, yet he still took the same table he and Thaddeus had been using since they had arrived. Sara was there promptly with a steaming cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Joshua, how's Thaddeus today?" she asked with genuine concern.

"If I was t'go by his symptoms I'd hafta say he's no better, but as irritable as he is I hafta say he's on the mend!" Heyes replied. "Could I have two eggs over easy, bacon, an' a biscuit, please?"

"The usual? It'll be right out."

While he waited, Heyes pondered his opponent. Mace Chandler was a fast gun with a faster temper that had been the cause of Big Jim Santana's loathing of gunslingers, which had almost prevented Kid Curry from joining them some time later. Mace had been riding with Big Jim Santana several months already when Heyes joined up - - just a green kid with a knack for opening safes. It seemed Big Jim had a habit of picking up strays.

Jasper had been one of Big Jim's strays. He was something of a half-wit that the outlaw leader had rescued from a vicious bunch of heckling kids in a town one day. Jasper had been grateful and had followed Big Jim around the town all day, hero worship shining bright in his eyes. Big Jim had asked around and it seemed Jasper had no kin, or at least none who would claim him, so he had taken pity on the boy and taken him back with them to Devil's Hole. Now he hadn't really been a boy, he was at least ten years older than Heyes, but his mental capacity had made it seem like he was. Big Jim had assigned Jasper to help out in the kitchen and other menial chores that the other outlaws complained about doing, but that Jasper had applied himself to with enthusiasm. It was discovered he had a knack for cooking and no one wanted to be absent when Jasper had prepared the meal. Heyes to this day had yet to find flapjacks as light and fluffy as the ones Jasper had made. Jasper had never been allowed to go on a job, but had stayed behind to care for the Hole while the rest of the gang was gone.

Most of the gang had been tolerant of the boy and forgiving of his occasional lapses, and then there had been Mace Chandler. Mace Chandler, sporting a mean streak a mile and a half wide, had scorned and sneered at Jasper, barely civil even when Big Jim was around.

The gang had taught Jasper the rudiments of poker and loved to watch his innocent play, his face a kaleidoscope of changing emotions as easily read as a dime novel. On this one particular day Jasper had joined a game in which Mace also played and the fuse had been lit. In retrospect, he shouldn't have been allowed to deal because of his clumsiness, but the boys had gotten a kick out of seeing what kind of hands he would deal them. Mace had thought Jasper was intentionally misdealing and accused him of cheating and demanded he draw!

Jasper had been allowed to carry a gun, but it was never loaded in case of an accident. Kyle had pointed this fact out to Mace and had then had to turn around and load the hapless boy's sixgun! Even then there had still been time to stop it, but not one of the gang had believed Mace would go so far.

"No good, double dealin' cheater!" Mace had spat at Jasper. "I'm gonna count t'three and you better draw that gun! You got it?"

Jasper had nodded, his eyes wide, his body trembling all over. When he heard "three!" he had clawed for the gun and had barely touched the grips when three quick shots in succession had rung out and he had jerked one step backward each time a bullet slammed into his torso until he collapsed lifelessly to the floor, his eyes still wide and staring in eternal confusion.

The Devil's Hole Gang had stood gaping in disbelief until the bunkhouse door had slammed open, Big Jim roaring, "What's goin' on in here?" Heyes had seen the outlaw leader's face drain completely of blood when he saw Jasper lying on the floor in a spreading pool of blood. "Who did this?" he had demanded in a hoarse whisper. No one had dared answer, but all eyes had turned to Mace, giving Big Jim the answer he needed.

Heyes didn't understand to this day why Big Jim hadn't gunned Mace down, or maybe he did, the outlaw leader hadn't been a killer any more than Heyes or the Kid were. He had given Mace an hour to get out of Devil's Hole and warned never to come back on pain of death!

Mace hadn't followed the last part of that advice, returning to the Hole once word had gotten to him that Big Jim Santana had gone to prison. Had he thought he could walk in and take over the gang? Heyes didn't know because he was already firmly established as the gang's new leader. Heyes, with Curry in his place at his back, had refused to allow Mace to rejoin the gang and Mace had turned ugly, insulting the young gang leader. The Kid had taken offense at that and stepped forward, challenging Mace, his eyes chilling.

"I hear you got quite a reputation as bein' fast, Kid," Mace had sneered. "It'll be a pleasure takin' you down!"

Heyes knew the Kid was fast, but he had also seen Mace in action and he'd been unwilling to chance his best friend's life, so he had stepped in between the two gunfighters. "I should let the Kid kill you, Mace, especially since you ignored Big Jim's warnin' t'stay away, but I guess you thought since Big Jim is in prison now what he said don't count anymore. Well, I'm here t'tell ya that I'm the leader of the Devil's Hole Gang now, an' I'm tellin' ya that I'd best not see you around here anymore or your life won't be worth a wooden nickel! I won't stop the Kid a second time!"

"Let me kill 'im, Heyes! He deserves it for insultin' you and for killin' that poor Jasper fella!" Kid had heard lots of stories about Jasper usually having been started by one of the outlaw's complaining when he was doing one of the jobs that had been Jasper's!

"Yeah, he does, Kid, and probably for dozens more reasons we don't know anything about, but he isn't worth you gettin' your hands dirty! Wheat, boys, would you all escort Mace to the point of no return an' see he keeps on goin'?"

"Be our pleasure, Heyes!" Wheat had said with great relish and Mace's back amidst the gang of outlaws had been the last Heyes had seen of Mace until yesterday and how he wished he hadn't seen him then!

He'd heard stories occasionally over the years of gunfights Mace had had and won, and of his growing reputation. No one had compared him to Kid Curry yet, but it seemed Mace himself felt he was comparable and hoped to prove it here in Coleville. Heyes, however, was not about to let that happen, no matter what it took. This was not to say he didn't have full confidence in his partner's ability to outdraw Mace every day of the week and twice on Sunday when he was fit, but as he was today Heyes would put his money on Jimmy beating him!

Sara brought his food and he ate it mechanically with no true enjoyment, just satisfying his body's needs.

Through the window he could see the town was waking up. A cheerful group of men carrying hammers, saws, drills, and other construction tools was striding purposefully towards the livery stable. Heyes was surprised to spot Reverend Cuthbert among the group. It looked odd to see him in work clothes rather than his preacher suit.

Foregoing his usual second cup of coffee, Heyes left a tip on the table for Sara and went to finish his early rounds.

At the saloon Gus had all the chairs on top of the tables and was busily sweeping the floor. He looked up at Heyes with a cheerful, "Morning, sheriff!"

"Mornin', Gus. No problems after my last rounds last night?" the sheriff inquired.

"Nope, woulda called ya if there had been."

"An' that fella I asked you t'keep an eye on?"

"No trouble, but not a very friendly sort. Neither of my girls wanted to have anything to do with him - - said he was spooky lookin'. Gotta admit those eyes of his gave me goosebumps!"

"Yeah, I know what you mean, Gus, but the man behind them is even scarier!"

"He's trouble?" Gus asked worriedly.

"I'll make sure he isn't, Gus, don't worry," Heyes promised.

Gus nodded and went back to his sweeping.

Heyes turned his feet back towards the jail, pondering his options and wondering if Mace could be convinced to be reasonable. Not likely! he snorted to himself.

"Morning, Mr. Smith!" Jimmy's cheerful voice pulled Heyes out of his dark thoughts.

"Mornin', Jimmy! How's it goin' over at Miss Davenport's?" He hunkered down to Jimmy's eye level.

"Oh, it's fine, Mr. Smith! I've got a real bed of my own and a closet, too! She's kinda strict about me going to bed, though."

"That's a good thing, Jimmy - - a growin' boy needs plenty of sleep."

"Yeah, I guess. Say, do you think I could say good morning to Mr. Jones?"

"I think Mr. Jones would like that a lot, Jimmy. He gets a little proddy when he's sick! Maybe seein' you'll make 'im feel better."

They walked together down the boardwalk, Jimmy doing his best to imitate Heyes' manly stride.

"Why's it so dark in here?" Jimmy asked when they walked into the office.

"The bright light makes Mr. Jones' headache worse," Heyes replied. "You awake, Thaddeus? You've got company."

"You don't hafta yell, Joshua, I can hear just fine!" came the other man's voice from the cell.

"See what I told ya? Proddy!" Heyes' grinned and winked at the boy.

"It's me, Mr. Jones! I came to see how you are," Jimmy said as he peeked into the cell.

"Hi, Jimmy! Come on in." Curry raised his head barely off the pillow to get a look at the boy.

"Here, Jimmy, you can sit here," Sam offered, standing up from the chair he'd put next to the injured man's bed to keep him company.

"Thanks, Mr. Adamson." Jimmy perched on the edge of the chair.

"I haven't seen you since before the fire, Jimmy, where are you staying?" Curry wanted to know.

"Miss Davenport took me in. I've got a real bed!"

Curry grinned at the boy's enthusiasm. "Well, a real bed, now that's something important to have. My partner an' I've slept on the ground enough to sometimes count it as a luxury! Ain't that tough, though, livin' with your teacher? Don't she make you do more lessons?"

"Oh, I love doing lessons, Mr. Jones! I'm almost caught up with the other kids my age, Miss Davenport says!"

"Maybe you oughta take his temperature, Joshua, sounds sick if he's lovin' lessons!"

"Not sick, Thaddeus, bright," the other sheriff disagreed. "Hey, maybe he's a genius like me!"

"Please don't make me laugh, Joshua, it makes my head hurt!"

"I gotta get to school now, Mr. Jones. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I will be okay soon, Jimmy," the Kid assured the other kid. "Come visit me again."

"Okay! 'Bye!"

"You sure you don't have any kids you've been hidin' from me, Joshua?"

"Pretty sure, Thaddeus. 'Sides his mama said his pa was a soldier an' I don't recollect ever bein' in the Army."

"An' I'm sure the Army's glad of that!" Curry replied wryly.

"Seriously, though, how's your headache?"

"It's settled down a bit - - maybe just one horse galloping around my brain instead of the whole herd! Still dizzy an' sick feelin' when I try t'get up, though."

"Then quit tryin' t'get up until the doc says you're ready!"

"How's the doc gonna know if I don't know? An' how'm I gonna know if I don't try?"

"You're hopeless, Thaddeus, you know that? Hopeless!"

Heyes threw up his hands and stomped to the desk. He opened the drawer where he'd seen a bunch of wanted posters and pulled the stack out. One by one he turned them over, hoping to find one with Mace Chandler's name on it.

A slow, satisfied smile grew on the ex-outlaw leader's face as he read the wanted poster that was near the bottom of the pile. Wanted for Murder. Five Thousand Dollar Reward. Mace Chandler. There was even a sketch that looked remarkably like the man, down to the eyes - - one lightly shaded, the other left white, to indicate eyes of different colors. The description elaborated in more detail. Heyes' narrowed as he nodded and said, "Got 'im!" under his breath.

Dr. Milburn was approaching the office just as Heyes was leaving to hunt down Mace Chandler with a final ultimatum.

"Mornin', Doc," he greeted.

"Good morning, Joshua. How are my patients this morning?" the doctor asked cheerfully.

"Sam's comin' along fine, but y'may hafta tie Thaddeus down! He thinks he oughta be able t'get up on his own!"

"Is he still dizzy and nauseous when he stands up?"

"Yeah, but he says I'm closer t'bein' one person again!"

"Well, that's some progress anyway. I'll go in and have a gander for myself and give him a mild scolding for attempting to do too much."

"Good luck with that, Doc!"

He had to pass the café to get to the hotel where he was going to corner Mace when he happened to look in the window and spotted his quarry having his breakfast at that moment. He was sitting at the table in the corner with no other diners around so their conversation wasn't likely to be overheard.

Sara approached him as he entered. "Hungry again so soon?"

"No, I just need to have a few words with one of your customers," Heyes replied.

"Oh? Which one?"

Heyes gestured with a subtle movement of his head and eyes towards the man eating alone.

Sara's face wrinkled in distaste. "Oh, him."

"Has he bothered you?"

"Nothing I can't handle, Joshua, but I won't be unhappy when he leaves town!"

"Hopefully that will be today. Make sure no one sits nearby for a few minutes will you?"

"Sure, no problem."

"Thanks."

Heyes walked over to the outlaw's table and, without asking permission, pulled out a chair and sat down. "I see you didn't take my advice, Mace."

"Ya really didn't expect me to, did ya, Heyes?" the other man retorted with sneer.

"The truth? No, but I had some small hope that you'd gotten a little wiser after all these years. But on the off chance that you hadn't, I followed a hunch an' checked through my wanted posters an' what do you think I found? One for you, Mace, an' it says you're wanted for murder! So I really should be arrestin' you about now!"

"Yeah, but you won't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I've been doin' some askin' around an' it seems Coleville's sheriffs are named Smith and Jones, not Heyes an' Curry! What that tells me is that, even though you say you an' the Kid've gone straight, you're still wanted, so if you arrest me once I start talkin' it won't be long before you're in there right along with me! So I think I'll just hang around town 'til the Kid shows up an' then we can settle our business!"

Heyes' expression didn't change, but he felt a chill go down his spine. "I may end up in jail, too, Mace, but I'm only lookin' at twenty years - - you're lookin' at hangin'! I really don't think you wanna take that chance, Mace! I'm givin' you an hour t'finish your breakfast, pack up an' get outta town then I'll be comin' to arrest you. Think about it." Heyes stood to go, his hard eyes boring into the other's.

Holding the outlaw-sheriff's glare, Mace replied, "You keep those twenty years in mind, too!"

Heyes turned his back on the outlaw and, with a tip of his hat to Sara, left the café.

Chagrined, but not surprised, that Mace had called his bluff, Heyes now had a decision to make, which was no decision at all, because there was no way he could arrest Mace and chance him exposing the acting sheriffs as who they really were. On the other hand, he really didn't think Mace would allow himself to be arrested and face hanging just to have the temporary satisfaction of knowing he'd sent Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry to prison for twenty years. Mace was vicious and malicious, but Heyes had to believe he also had a healthy survival instinct. Nor could he allow the outlaw to hang around town waiting for the Kid to "show up", because the Kid would be up and around long before he was fit to face Mace in a showdown. No, he had to be gotten rid of today and Heyes knew there was only one way it could be done - - and Mace would see to it. With a sigh he began what he hoped wouldn't be his last rounds of the quiet little town of Coleville.

He was pleased to see that another side of the new livery stable had been framed and the third started. A wagonload of lumber from Mr. Cole had arrived and was being unloaded, while a second of feed waited its turn to be unloaded. The driver of the feed wagon hailed the watching sheriff and jumped down from his wagon to hurry up to Heyes. As he got close, Heyes recognized him as the cowhand who had helped the injured Sam into the jail

"Sheriff Smith, is it?" the young cowboy asked and then went on at Heyes' nod. "I'd like to know how Sam is doing."

"He's gonna be fine, no thanks to you boys!" Heyes growled.

To the sheriff's surprise, the young man looked abashed. "I never laid a finger on him, sheriff!"

"No, but you didn't stop it, either!"

"Yes, I did! I tried to convince my father to let Sam alone, but he's blind to all reason when it comes to those mustangs!"

Heyes' mouth dropped. "Wait, did you say your father?"

"Yes, Adam Cole is my father," he said in an embarrassed voice. "I'm Johnny Cole."

"Doesn't that mean you'd have some influence with 'im?"

"Hah!" Johnny snorted. "My father's word is law on the ranch and he takes advice from no one, except maybe Gil, least of all his son! Like I said, I tried to talk to him but he wouldn't listen and then he sent me with Gil that night to guard the horses we'd caught - - or at least that's what he said we were going to do! I didn't know they had set a trap for Sam! When they started beating him up I tried to stop them but two of the hands grabbed me and held me until it was over! Sam was my friend."

The genuine look of sorrow on the young man's face softened Heyes' heart and he put a hand on his shoulder. "Sam's fine."

"I'm worried about the next time, though."

"There won't be a next time, Johnny, Sam's comin' to work for me an' Sheriff Jones on our horse ranch down in Colorado."

"That's great news! I'll miss him, but I won't have to worry anymore! Would you tell him I was asking about him?" A shout from the wagon caught his attention.

"Sure, Johnny."

"Much obliged," Johnny said with a relieved grin and ran back where the crew waited to unload the feed.

Heyes shook his head in bemusement as he wondered what other strange twists might be uncovered here in Coleville if he and Thaddeus weren't leaving soon!

He continued on down the street, letting the sounds of the bustling little town flow over him like soothing water, calming his nerves. It was a nice town, a good place for a boy to grow up. On sudden impulse he turned in to the General Store.

"Good morning, Sheriff Smith," Mrs. Jenkins greeted with a smile, having warmed up considerably from their earlier run in. "How may I help you today?"

Heyes took five dollars out of his vest pocket and laid it on the counter. "My partner an' I'll be leavin' Monday when Sheriff Watkins comes back an' I'd like you t'make sure Jimmy gets some candy every week. Do you think you could see to that Mrs. Jenkins?"

"Of course, sheriff, that's mighty kind of you, but this is an awful lot of money for candy!"

"Well, he's still got a lot of kid years left in 'im, an' if Jimmy's anythin' like my partner he may never grow up! If you should ever need any more just wire me or Thaddeus down in Coldwater, Colorado."

"You've taken quite a shine to the boy, haven't you, Sheriff Smith?"

"Jimmy's a fine boy, Mrs. Jenkins, it'd be hard not to. Much obliged to you for doin' that little thing for me. I'll be seein' you again before we leave, but I wanted t'make sure I didn't forget this. Good day." Heyes tipped his hat to the shopkeeper and went back outside.

He stood in the shade on the overhang for a few moments and caught sight of Mace sauntering casually to the saloon. Heyes nodded to himself figuring that's where he'd find him when the hour was up. He turned his steps back to the jail.

Dr. Milburn had long gone and Curry and Sam were engaged in a game of blackjack - - the Kid propped partially up on pillows. Curry immediately noticed his partner's disapproving frown and quickly said, "Dr. Milburn said I could sit up a little now."

"He did, huh? Done feelin' dizzy then?" Heyes answered skeptically.

"No, but it went away after a minute or two. He said I should try t'eat some solid food, too - - see if my stomach keeps it in - - easy food like mashed potatoes, no gravy, and bread."

"That's real good, Thaddeus!" Heyes really was pleased. "What about me - - still two?"

Curry looked at him intently, then squinted slightly. "Yeah, but it don't take as much squintin' t'put you back t'gether! Doc says if'n I take good care of myself I should be able t'ride out on Monday! Like I was gonna stay here one day longer even if he didn't say so!" the gunslinger snorted derisively.

"What about you, Sam?"

"Doc said I was fit to ride if I didn't overtax my ribs with lifting and such. He said he'd rather the stitches stay in until Sunday - - less chance of tearing the cuts open then."

"Sounds real good," Heyes nodded. "Figure we won't be actually on the trail t'Colorado until Tuesday, though."

"Why, Joshua? I thought you were as eager t'get home as me!"

"I am, Thaddeus, but we gotta go see Mr. Cole 'bout that stud, remember?"

"Why don't we do that tomorrow, or Saturday?"

"Well, I can give you a couple a good reasons. One, you ain't ready t'ride tomorrow, or Saturday, an' two, the corral is already overcrowded with horses, ain't good t'stick another one in there for so long! One night won't be too bad, though."

"Oh," Curry said taking that information in and thinking about it. "Yeah, I guess you got good points there, Joshua. One more night in Coleville won't be so bad, I don't suppose. Is it dinnertime yet? I'm mighty hungry!"

Heyes pulled out his watch and said, "Just about high noon, Thaddeus! Count on your stomach t'know what time it is!"

"I'd be happy to go fetch dinner," Sam volunteered. "D'you want any, Joshua?"

"No, not just yet, I've got an errand t'run first. Thanks anyway."

"Suit yourself. I'll be back in a little while, Thaddeus."

"Thanks, Sam."

Curry watched in interest as Heyes drew his pistol, half-cocked it, and checked the chambers. "You expectin' trouble, Heyes?" he asked.

"Nah, just bein' prepared, is all."

"You sure?" Curry wasn't entirely believing his friend.

Heyes slid the pistol back into its holster with an exasperated sigh. "Kid, you've been complainin' all these years cuz I don't an' now you're complain' cuz I am! You can't have it both ways!"

"It's just suspicious that you choose now t'do it is all, Heyes!"

"Y'might consider I've got good reason now since I ain't got you t'back me up, Kid!"

"Oh, right, I'd forgotten that!"

"Well, luckily I hadn't! Relax, Kid, I'll be back in a little while."

"Just be careful, Heyes, cuz you ain't got me t'back you up!"

"Always, Kid, always!" Heyes said with a grin and once again walked out into the street.

Shutting the door behind him, Heyes felt a little hesitant. Maybe he should say something to the Kid? What if it all went wrong and he had left the Kid hanging like this? No, he couldn't risk the Kid trying to talk him out of it, or worse, insisting that he come along! It was better this way. He strode down the boardwalk, his face set in determination, and people, seeing that look, stepped quickly out of his way.

"That will be all, children, until after dinner!" Miss Davenport announced and, with happy smiles and chatter, the schoolchildren picked up their dinner pails and hurried out into the schoolyard to eat quickly and then begin their games. "Jimmy?"

"Yes, Miss Davenport?" Jimmy hung back while the rest of his classmates ran outside.

"Would you mind taking this note to Sheriff Smith before you eat?" the schoolmarm asked.

"No, I wouldn't mind at all, Miss Davenport!" the boy replied excitedly.

"Very well, but don't dawdle because you will still need time to eat!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Jimmy took the folded piece of paper and dashed out of the schoolhouse. He ran a little slower than he had barefoot since he was still getting used to his new boots, but he covered the ground quickly. He slowed to a walk as he saw the person he was sent to see striding purposefully down the boardwalk. He opened his mouth to call out to him, but stopped when the sheriff turned and entered the saloon.

The saloon had always seemed a mysterious and enticing place to the boy since he had never been allowed inside, although he had peeped in on several occasions. This may be his chance to actually get inside and get a good look around since he had a good reason to enter. He hurried his pace just in case Sheriff Smith planned to come out right away.

He crept up to the batwing doors and peeped carefully in to get the lay of the land before just barging in. He was just in time to hear Sheriff Smith say, "I'm takin' you in, Mace; you're under arrest!"

Sheriff Smith stood with his back to the door, his feet shoulder width apart, his right hand close to his gun. In front of him sitting at a table was some mean looking fellow with long hair and eyes two different colors. This Mace fellow sneered at the sheriff and said, "You think you can arrest me all by yourself, sheriff?"

"If you're smart an' come peaceable, yes, I think I can."

"Why didn't you bring your partner t'back you up?"

"I told you any business you got with Sheriff Jones goes through me first! Now, you gonna come peaceable, or do we take it outside in the street? I wouldn't want any innocent bystanders t'get hurt."

"Well, I ain't goin' with you peaceable, that's fer sure, so I guess we'll hafta settle this in the street! Once I've settled with you, I'll take care a business with your partner!"

Jimmy could hardly believe his ears - - Mr. Smith was going to have a gunfight with this stranger! Then he remembered Mr. Jones saying that Mr. Smith wasn't any kind of a good shot! "Oh, no!" he exclaimed softly to himself and took off up the boardwalk to the jail.

Kid Curry looked up startled as the office door slammed opened and a nearly hysterical and breathless Jimmy ran shouting, "Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones, Mr. Smith and some stranger are gonna have a shootout in the street!"

"Whoa, slow down, Jimmy! What's that you say?" Curry wasn't sure he'd actually heard what he'd thought he'd heard.

"You've got to hurry, Mr. Jones! Mr. Smith and somebody are gonna have a shootout! Mr. Smith tried to arrest him and he wouldn't come peaceable and you said Mr. Smith isn't any kind of shot at all so he's going to die! Hurry, Mr. Jones!"

Curry's blood ran cold as he put together what Jimmy was saying with Heyes' unusual concern for his gun just before he left. He sat up quickly and was nearly overwhelmed as his head spun with dizziness! He willed it away and reached for his gunbelt hanging at the head of his bed. He buckled it on as best he could sitting down and tied the leather thong around his thigh. "Could you hand me my boots, Jimmy?"

Jimmy picked up the battered brown boots and put them in Curry's outstretched hand. Moving as fast as he could the gunslinger shoved his feet into the boots and stamped them on. "Where they at?"

"In front of the saloon."

"Okay, I'm gonna go help Mr. Smith, Jimmy, an' I want you t'run over to the café, Sam's there, tell him what's goin' on an' then you stay there until this is over! Got it?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Jones!"

As soon as the boy clattered out of the office, Curry rose to his feet, more slowly than he had sitting up, but still the dizziness attacked again only stronger and bringing with it a nausea that had him grabbing his stomach with one hand and the bars of the cell with his other so he didn't fall! A groan escaped his clenched teeth and by sheer willpower he straightened and staggered out of the cell, still clutching his stomach. He snatched his hat from the hat rack and crammed it on his head. He caught sight of the wanted poster lying on the desk and he squinted at the words that swam crazily in front of his eyes. Mace Chandler! Is that who Heyes had tried to arrest? Panic began to fill the gunslinger now along with the certainty that he couldn't reach his partner in time as he staggered towards the office door that refused to stay in one place!

Heyes stepped into the street, keeping a wary eye on Mace, who was just pushing through the batwing doors and stepping onto the boardwalk. His face wore a scornful sneer as he swaggered into the dusty street.

The people outside scurried into the closest doorway, out of danger, yet many faces reappeared in windows to watch the event unfold. Coleville had never hosted a gunfight before.

"This is the day that's gonna make my reputation solid, sheriff!" the outlaw gloated. "First I take you down an' then yer baby-faced partner! Hell, I'll probably be in the hist'ry books!"

"Gettin' a bit ahead of yourself, ain'tcha, Mace? Y'ain't beat me yet!" Heyes retorted.

"Hah! That won't be no trouble! Like I said, you ain't no gunhand!"

A slight smile played across Heyes' lips as he said, "Y'don't think I mighta picked up a thing or two over the years? After all, my partner is the best there is!"

"Maybe, but I always heard you was a mite squeamish!"

"Well, I don't have all day t'chit chat with ya, Mace, so let's get this over with!"

"It's your funeral!" Mace shrugged.

Heyes took a deep breath and slowly let it out, willing his muscles to relax, and he felt an unnatural silence settle around him as his focus narrowed, shutting out everything but his opponent. Time seemed to slow . . .

Curry staggered through the door, grabbing one of the posts that held up the overhang to keep himself on his feet as another wave of dizziness and nausea threatened to overwhelm him. Panting, he stared up the street, blinking and squinting to bring his eyesight into focus.

Heyes had his back to him in the stance the Kid knew so well - - feet shoulder width apart, arms hanging relaxed at his sides. Neither man spoke, they were completely still, each waiting for the least movement as the clue to draw. Though Curry longed to shout his partner's name and get him away from this game of death, he knew it had gone beyond the point of no return and any distraction now could mean Heyes' death.

He waited in an agony of suspense, then suddenly Heyes' hand grabbed for his gun, drew and two shots a mere second apart, shattered the quiet . . .

Heyes caught the slight twitch of Mace's gunhand as the outlaw made his move and a split-second later Heyes slapped leather, though it seemed he moved in slow motion. Draw, cock, aim, fire, all one fluid movement. Two shots, one right after the other. From a distance, Heyes felt fire burn across his left side, but he didn't move, kept his gun trained on his opponent until he saw a spot of crimson spread across Mace's chest, a look of disbelief frozen on his face as he collapsed like a rag doll into the dust of the street.

Time returned to its normal flow and there was suddenly noise where there had been silence. His arm all at once felt made of lead and he holstered his gun before it, too, fell into the dust and earned him a tongue lashing from the Kid for mistreating a valuable tool. The fire in his side flared and his hand instinctively sought the spot, coming away wet and sticky with blood. His strength drained away and the sky seemed to spin above him as shouting voices drew near, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. His knees gave out . . .

Curry expelled his breath in a sigh of relief when he saw Heyes was still standing after Mace fell, only to have his heart cramp in his chest as his partner collapsed to his knees. Fear and the need to make it to his partner's side fueled his strength as he let go of the post and staggered down the street. "Don't die, damn you, Heyes! Don't die!" he repeated to himself over and over with each step.

At the café Sam had watched the drama in the street play out, a white faced Jimmy trembling at his side. In his relatively short time in the West he had never seen a gunfight, though he'd read about them, of course, but having his first one involve a good friend made it all too real and dreadful. He wished he couldn't look but he was helpless to turn away. He saw the flames belch from two guns in hand before he could see it and the reports sounded unnaturally loud to his ears. His breath caught in his throat as for a moment both men still stood only to be released as the sheriff's opponent measured his length on the street. He felt like giving a shout but then his keen eyes saw the sheriff's legs wobble. "Sara, hold on to Jimmy!" he shouted as he propelled the boy toward the waitress and raced for the door. He saw Joshua collapse to his knees but then his long strides brought him to the sheriff's side and his arms went around the other man's shoulders, preventing him from falling. "It's all right, Joshua, I've got you!" he assured the other man.

Strong arms around his shoulders kept Heyes from burying his own face in the dusty street and he heard a reassuring voice in his ear, though it sounded distant and he wasn't sure what it had said, but he was grateful. "Get Doc Milburn!" he heard someone yell and Heyes summoned the strength to say, "I'm all right!"

"You're not all right!" the voice in his ear contradicted. "You're bleeding like a stuck pig!"

Heyes lifted his head and looked into Sam's concerned face. "People say that all the time - - do stuck pigs really bleed that much?" he asked irrelevantly.

"Do you always ask dumb questions like that after you've been shot?" Sam demanded in an aggravated tone.

"Hmm, probably, you'll hafta ask Thaddeus to know for sure, though. Really, Sam, it's just a graze - - I'm all right!"

"I'll be the judge of that, young man!" Dr. Milburn's brusque voice intervened. "Let's get him down to our temporary hospital, Sam."

"You got it, Doc!"

With Sam's help, Heyes got to his feet, his arm still clamped across his stomach, his hand covering the wound. Sam pulled Heyes' left arm over his shoulder to support the wounded sheriff. "Wait, what about Mace?"

"Don't you worry about him, someone will cart him over to the undertaker!"

A small crowd had gathered around which was now being jostled and shoved away by a newcomer . . .

Curry saw Sam run out of the café and grab Heyes' shoulders and then his view was blocked by a crowd of curious townspeople who had left the safety of their hiding places now the shooting was done. He heard the shout of "Get Doc Milburn!" and his stomach twisted. No one listened to his polite "excuse me's" so he used his arms to shove people away until he was face to face with Heyes on his feet, supported by Sam. Heyes' head was down so Curry could only see the top of his hat, but he could also see his partner's arm pressed across his body and blood running through the fingers of the hand clamped to his wound - - so much blood! "Joshua?" he choked out. The black hat raised and tilted back revealing his partner's very white face, his dark eyes narrowed in pain. "Hey, Thaddeus, what're you doin' outta bed?" Heyes asked.

All Curry's pent up worry combined with relief to create a volatile mix that exploded with the spark of his friend's question.

Heyes looked up into the pasty white face of his partner who had pushed through the crowd, saw the stark fear in the other's eyes and asked, "Hey, Thaddeus, what're you doin' outta bed?" Emotions flicked like cards across his friend's face – first to go was the fear, replaced by relief, quickly followed by confused, to combine into a dark cloud that formed a frown on the gunslinger's face as he roared, "What'm I doin' outta bed? Is that all you gotta say t'me, Joshua? How 'bout what the hell d'you think you're doin' havin' a gunfight out here in the street? With Mace Chandler no less!"

A faint smile twitched at Heyes' lips as he replied innocently, "Where else do you suggest I have a gunfight, Thaddeus?"

"You know what I'm talkin' about, Joshua!" Curry began only to be interrupted by the doctor.

"Can you two continue this later? I need to get a look at Joshua's wound. And you need to get yourself back to bed, Thaddeus, you shouldn't be exerting yourself like this!"

His tirade effectively cut off, Curry stepped aside and fell in alongside Heyes and Sam, the doctor following behind. "You ain't heard the last of this, Joshua!"

"I'm sure I haven't!" Heyes agreed, now with a full grin.

The little procession made its way to the jail/hospital and Heyes was sat down on his bed. Sam helped him off with his vest and then unbuttoned his favorite dark blue, now ruined, shirt and removed it, too, to reveal a long bloody gouge across his ribcage. Heyes looked at it and said, "See I told you it was just a graze!"

"A mighty deep one, though," Dr. Milburn said. "That's going to need stitches! Lay down, Joshua."

With a sigh, followed by a groan, Heyes complied with a hand from Sam, settling on his unwounded side; Thaddeus hovered anxiously nearby.

"Didn't the doc tell you t'get back t'bed, Thaddeus?" Heyes reminded him.

"I ain't goin' until you're patched up, Joshua, so quit your yappin'!" Curry snapped.

"I don't know what you're so upset about, Thaddeus, you ain't the one that's shot!"

"Well, that's just it, ain't it? You're shot! You ain't a gunslinger! I am! What possessed you t'get into a showdown with Mace Chandler of all people?"

Heyes sucked in a hissing breath as the doctor swabbed out the long cut with antiseptic. "I tried to arrest 'im peaceable like, Thaddeus, but he wouldn't have it - - had t'do it the hard way! With you laid up I had t'do it!"

"Y'couldn't just let 'im ride outta town?"

"He refused t'leave an' you know I couldn't let 'im hang around town!" Heyes' emphasis on the word told the gunslinger more than one word normally would have, that along with the steady stare from his partner's dark eyes.

Curry held the gaze for a long moment before saying, "You're right, Joshua. I was just plain scared, though!"

"So was I, Thaddeus!" Heyes replied fervently.

"I'm glad t'see you forgot most all I taught you 'bout fast drawin'!"

"What're you talkin' about? I was tryin' t'do it exactly like you showed me!"

"No, you forgot one little thing, an' it saved your life! If you hadn't done that twisty thing to the side, that bullet woulda gone into your chest an' you'd be dead right now!" Curry said tightly.

"I didn't twist!"

"Yes, you did! I was watchin'!"

"Saved my life, did it?"

Curry nodded. "Yup."

"Huh! Fancy that! An' there you tried t'convince me it was a bad thing!"

"If you two are done jawing I'd like to get this sewed up!" Dr. Milburn held a needle with a long piece of black thread.

"Sew away, Doc!"

"You might want to hold on to something."

Heyes gripped one of the metal bars that made up the rudimentary headboard of the jail bed and grit his teeth as the needled pierced his flesh once, then twice, followed by several tugs as the thread was knotted and cut off. This process was repeated over and over again, so many times that he lost count, and not getting any less painful for all the repetition. He sighed in grateful relief as the final stitch was knotted off.

"Those should hold you together provided you don't do too much strenuous activity, which is more than I can hope for if I can judge by how well your friends follow instructions!" said Dr. Milburn.

"Oh, I'm much more obedient than they are, Doc!" Heyes replied.

Curry snorted and the doctor grunted his disbelief. "Now if I can just get you to sit up, I'll bandage you up. Between the three of you I'm fast running out of bandages!"

Sam helped ease the injured sheriff to a sitting position and then said, "I'd better go let Jimmy know you're all right."

"Jimmy? Ain't he in school?" Heyes asked, confused.

"No, he's the one who told me you were gonna have a gunfight!" Curry replied. "I sent 'im over t'the café t'tell Sam."

Sam nodded. "He told me and then watched the whole thing through the window."

"Jimmy watched me kill a man?" Heyes was appalled.

"I think he was more concerned that he watched you get shot!" Sam retorted.

"He's probably terribly upset! Would you bring him over here, Sam? He'd better have a good reason for not bein' in school, too!"

"Sure, Joshua."

Dr. Milburn pressed a folded gauze pad against the wound and said, "Hold this, please, Joshua."

Heyes held the pad in place while the doctor wound a linen strip around his chest. He looked ruefully at his bloodstained skin and pants. "I look like I've been in a war! I need a bath somethin' awful!"

"Not today," Dr. Milburn said firmly. "Give the wound twenty-four hours to start knitting and then you can remove the bandage and bathe. I'll leave a roll of bandages so you can rebandage yourself."

"Okay, Doc, I guess I can stand myself one more day."

Wide eyes in a pale face peered around the Kid, who was using the walls of bars to prop himself up, evidence of tears on the wan cheeks. "Mr. Smith?" he asked tentatively.

"Jimmy, come on in here." Heyes held out his arm to the boy.

"Well, it's getting too crowded in here, so I'll be leaving," Dr. Milburn announced.

"Thanks, Doc, see you later."

"Much later, I hope," the doctor replied wryly, snapping his bag shut.

"Thanks, Doc," Curry said also as the medical man passed him.

Jimmy stood hesitantly in the doorway.

"Go on, Jimmy," Sam urged from behind him.

The boy crept forward, his eyes on the white bandage. "Are you all right, Mr. Smith? I saw that man shoot you!"

"I'm sorry you saw that, Jimmy, but it's something that happens sometimes in the course of a sheriff's job. I'm fine, though, it's just a scratch! The doc stitched me up an' I'll be good as new in no time!"

"I'm glad you killed that man, Mr. Smith!" the boy said ferociously, his eyes sparking.

Heyes turned the boy to face him and said sternly, "Don't say that, Jimmy! Killin' another man ain't anythin' t'be glad of! It's a very serious thing an' somethin' to avoid if possible, an' I'll admit sometimes it ain't possible, like in this case. I did all I could to avoid it comin' t'this with Mace - - gave 'im a chance t'get outta town, gave 'im another chance t'come in peaceable, but he just wouldn't, so I didn't have any other choice! One thing I ain't is glad about it! I am glad he didn't kill me, though!" Heyes finished with a wry grin.

"But he was a bad man!" Jimmy protested.

"Yeah, he was, Jimmy, 'bout as bad as they come - - he'd killed a bunch of people, but that don't mean he shouldn't've had a legal trial and then been hanged! Shootin' was too good for 'im if y'come right down to it! You understand what I'm tryin' t'say, don't you, Jimmy?" Heyes looked seriously into the boy's eyes.

"Yes, sir, I guess so."

"Good. Now how come you were out of school t'see this anyway?"

"Miss Davenport sent me to give you this note." A crumpled piece of paper appeared from the depths of a pocket.

Heyes unfolded and flattened the paper to read,

"Sheriff Smith, would it be possible for you to spare a few minutes to speak with me this afternoon after school? Miss Davenport."

He looked at the boy and asked, "Can you take a message back to her, Jimmy?"

"Of course!" Jimmy replied eagerly.

"Tell her that I'm a bit under the weather today, but that I'd be pleased to stop by tomorrow afternoon if that's convenient for her. Can you remember that?"

"Oh, yes, sir!"

"Good, skedaddle on back to school then!" Heyes turned the boy towards the door and gave him a good-natured swat to hurry him on his way.

"Joshua," Curry began when the office was empty except for the three of them.

Heyes sighed tiredly, "Thaddeus, d'you think you could yell at me later? I'm mighty tired right now."

Whatever Curry might have said next was cut off by the door slamming open and an angry Mayor Hoffman stormed in bellowing, "This is completely outrageous - - gunfights in our streets! This is not Dodge City! I hope you have an explanation for yourself, Sheriff Smith!"

Hannibal Heyes slowly rose to his feet, drawing himself to his full height, dark eyes sparking in anger, and Kid Curry wisely moved aside so the newly awakened outlaw leader could pass and confront the mayor. In a deadly quiet voice, Heyes said, "I was doing my job, Mayor Hoffman, protecting the citizens of Coleville from the criminal element, at not inconsiderable risk to myself I might add!"

He picked up the wanted poster and handed it to the still sputtering mayor who slowly deflated as he read it.

"What is outrageous, Mayor Hoffman, is how you have advertised Coleville as a quiet little town! We came here to do a simple favor for a friend, going out of our way to do so, having been assured that nothing ever happens in Coleville! Well, since we have been here, we've been attacked by a hatchet wielding crazy woman, my partner was nearly killed in a fire, and today I am forced into a gunfight with a notorious killer, and I am not a gunslinger by any definition of the word! If you are dissatisfied in any way by the service Sheriff Jones and I have provided, you are more than welcome to not pay us! We will certainly be glad to see the last of your quiet little town!"

The mayor hemmed and hawed and had the grace to look abashed. "Now, now, there's no need for hard feelings, Sheriff Smith! I see you had a very good reason for what you did today and I most certainly apologize for berating you! Nor have we any reason to be dissatisfied with the way you and Sheriff Jones have performed your duties - - in fact, you have gone above and beyond the call. Forgive me for intruding! Carry on!" He nearly fell over himself in his hurry to leave.

A low whistle from Sam accompanied the mayor's exit. "You sure took the wind out of his sails, Joshua!" he exclaimed.

"Joshua can shoot off his mouth even better than his gun!" Curry joked.

"Puffed up politicians!" Heyes groused. "Want the benefits of a crime-free town without the dirty work!" The dark haired sheriff, shoulders slumped, made his way back to his bed. "Now I'm really tired!"

"You had anythin' t'eat today, Joshua?" Curry asked, knowing his friend most likely hadn't, not being a particularly big eater at the best of times and even less if something weighed on his mind.

"Don't rightly remember," Heyes responded with his eyes shut, an arm draped across them.

"That means no," his partner interpreted.

"As I recall I was at the café getting some food when this whole thing happened," Sam put in. "I'll go back over and get some for all three of us, how's that?"

"Sounds perfect, Sam, thanks," Curry said. "Y'know, Heyes, I think Sam's gonna be right nice t'have around," he commented after the other man had left.

"He is an agreeable sort," Heyes agreed. "A little less tryin' of a man's patience than you." Instantly contrite, he removed his arm and propped himself up on his elbows. "I'm sorry, Kid, that was a rotten thing to say! I don't know what got into me! I've always appreciated you backin' me up all these years, but I never really understood until today! How do you do it, time after time, facin' a man knowin' this one might be the one that's just a bit faster than you are? I was scared down to my toenails!"

"You think I'm not, Heyes?" the gunslinger retorted. "Well, I am, but that's somethin' y'hafta learn t'put aside - - lock it away in a dark closet somewhere. It'll get less as you get more confidence in your ability, but there's always that little piece of you that'll wonder if this'll be the one."

"Well, I don't plan on havin' the opportunity of gettin' more confidence, Kid! Today was more than enough for me an', like you said, it was just dumb luck I still twisted or else I'd be the one dead over there at the funeral parlor! Then Mace'd be comin' for you!

"I was the one he was after today, wasn't I? You did that to protect me, didn't you?" Curry asked seriously.

"You weren't in any shape t'face him, Kid! You'd'a done the same for me. Once he'd recognized me he knew you'd be around sooner or later - - not to mention I couldn't let him hang around town blabbin' t'everybody who we really are!"

"I'm not arguin' that you didn't do the right thing, Heyes, just wishin' y'hadn't had to!"

"You an' me both, Kid!" Heyes agreed fervently.

In the dark depths of the night some small sound woke Kid Curry from a deep sleep. He lay still for a moment allowing his senses to range his immediate area, searching for the source. The sound was not repeated, but an orange glow from the stove in the main office area brought him up on one elbow where he could see a dark silhouette hunkered in front of the open door of the stove, stirring the fire to life. The flare of the flames lit the face of his insomniac partner. With a quick glance to check that Sam was still asleep, Curry swung quietly to his feet and padded over to the stove.

Hannibal Heyes was staring intently into the flames, not moving or acknowledging whether or not he was aware of his partner's presence.

"What's wrong, Heyes?" Curry asked.

Not looking away from the fire, Heyes replied, "I killed a man today, Kid!"

"Yeah, you did," the gunslinger agreed.

"All these years an' I've never even shot anybody and now I've killed somebody! I just can't seem t'be able to sort out how I feel about it - - there's so many feelin's churnin' all around in my gut!"

"Do you need to feel somethin' other than satisfaction?"

Heyes looked sharply at his gunslinger friend. "Should I feel satisfaction at takin' a life?"

"In this case, yeah, you should! You're a sheriff - - it's your job t'do whatever's necessary t'keep the peace, an' in this case killin' Mace was the only way!"

"Is the governor gonna see it that way?"

"Why wouldn't he? You're a legally sworn lawman. You tried to arrest a wanted criminal who resisted, forcing you into a showdown. It was completely justified."

Curry was at a loss trying to understand why his usually logical partner couldn't get a grasp on this simple situation.

"Maybe because I'm questioning my own motives, Kid, motives that were less than justified."

"Which were?"

"Revenge for one, for him killin' Jasper all those years ago. T'keep 'im from killin' you for another, cuz you had a snowball's chance in hell of outdrawin' him today!"

"'Preciate your confidence, Heyes," Curry said dryly.

"Be honest, could you have?"

"No, probably not."

"Then there was his threat of tellin' the town who we are - - I couldn't let 'im do that! Those aren't the pure legal motives a regular sheriff'd have, Kid."

"The governor ain't gonna know those. All he's gonna hear about is how you brought a wanted murderer to justice! Less'n you go an' tell 'im! You gonna go an tell 'im?"

"Of course not!"

"So let it go! You did what you had to do at the moment, there ain't no good in second guessin' yourself now! Mace deserved killin' as much as Danny Bilson did, didn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sorry I killed Danny?"

"No, I'm glad you did, Seth wouldn't a got any justice otherwise!"

"An' I'm glad you killed Mace for the same reason - - it was the only way Jasper could get any justice. Mace woulda been hanged for his other killin's, but Jasper wouldn't a been one of 'em cuz the law didn't know about his murder! Jasper can rest in peace now thanks to you, Heyes."

"I reckon you may be right, Kid."

"I am right! This is what I know, Heyes!" Curry said firmly. "So quit broodin', okay?"

"I don't understand you two!" a voice from behind them caused both former outlaws to spin around in surprise, reaching for guns that didn't hang at their sides. Sam leaned against one of the cells, his arms crossed, a puzzled look on his face. "

"What do you mean?" Heyes asked suspiciously.

"Well, first off, let me tell you that I know you're Hannibal Heyes and he's Kid Curry!"

The two former outlaws exchanged rueful looks at their carelessness.

"I've known since the night of the fire actually," Sam went on. "One of the times you had to wake Thaddeus up you called him Kid and he called you Heyes. I thought I must've heard wrong, but then I started thinking, adding things together - - your speed on the draw, Kid, which you showed me when you two first came out to my cabin, and your meticulous care of everyone's guns, a comment about having spent time in a cell before, little things like that, not to mention your unconventional methods of sheriffing! Tonight just confirmed it."

"We were gonna tell you, Sam, but we figured we'd wait until we were out of Coleville," Heyes told the wrangler.

"Just in case the twenty thousand dollar reward money was more tempting than working for you on your horse ranch?" Sam commented with a knowing look.

"He's pretty sharp, Heyes," Curry put in. "You may have some competition in the brains department!"

Heyes ignored him and asked Sam, "Is that somethin' we gotta worry about, Sam?"

"Nah, what do I need with all that money? If I'd wanted to be rich, I would've stay home in Kentucky!"

"So what is it you don't understand then?"

"Couple of things really. First I don't understand what two notorious outlaws are doing working as sheriffs, even if only temporarily! And then, you just don't behave like one would expect of two notorious outlaws! Your concern for Jimmy's welfare and education, what you said to him today about killing. Your concern for the town as a whole, risking your lives in the fire, taking on this killer, respecting the law, taking your jobs as sheriffs seriously, well, I could just say pretty much everything I've seen about you contradicts your reputations and the fact that you've got those rewards on your heads! Not to mention the fact that I like and respect you both and that's not the way it should be, is it?"

"We've found most things ain't the way they should be, Sam!" Heyes replied. "An' I can't say as we can satisfy your lack of understandin' cuz I don't suppose we understand everythin' ourselves!"

"Well, I'm pretty sure you can explain just how you happen to be sheriffs here in Coleville!"

"We told you that already - - we're doin' a favor for a friend, Sheriff Lom Trevors up in Porterville!"

"So what are two outlaws doing with a sheriff for a friend?" Sam insisted, not intending to allow the two men to evade his questions so easily.

Heyes sighed and gave in. "Very few people know this, Sam, but the Kid an' I have gone straight! Lom - - Sheriff Trevors - - spoke to the governor on our behalves an' the governor has agreed t'give us amnesty if we can prove to him that we can stay out of trouble, which we've done for over two years now! Frankly I'm beginnin' t'doubt he ever intends t'honor his promise, but Lom said he'd put more pressure on 'im if we did him this particular little favor. Little!" he snorted. "As for the rest of what y'don't understand, well, I guess I'd tell you not t'believe everythin' y'hear about a person, notorious outlaw, or not!"

"All right, you've got a point there - - what should I call you now, Heyes or Joshua?"

"We're always Joshua and Thaddeus when we're around other people. When we're on the trail or at our ranch then you can call me Heyes - - he's Kid."

"Good enough, Joshua, but as I was saying, even if a reputation isn't all true, still I wouldn't expect outlaws to agonize over having to kill somebody! Especially somebody as bad as you say Mace was. Or to take the time to teach a young boy that killing is wrong."

"How much do you know about Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, Sam?" Curry asked.

Sam looked at the gunslinger, who had leaned comfortably against the wall during the previous interchange. He guessed that the innocent face was what had given the gunman the nickname of Kid, but he found it hard to connect Thaddeus Jones with a deadly gunslinger. "I reckon I don't know all that much really. You and the Devil's Hole Gang robbed a bunch of trains and banks and Kid Curry is supposedly the fastest gun in the West!"

"You ever hear 'bout us killin' anybody?"

"Nooo," the wrangler replied, drawing the word out thoughtfully.

"That's cuz we didn't! In all our robberies, we never shot anybody! Robbin' folks irritates 'em somethin' fierce, but killin', now that just makes folks mad unnecessarily! Tends t'make posses more determined - - not t'mention gettin' a body hanged if'n he gets caught!"

"But you have killed somebody! You just mentioned this Danny Bilson!"

"That was a fair fight, Sam," Heyes took over. "Danny pushed Kid into it. The sheriff of the town was a witness an' agreed it was a fair fight. Not that Danny didn't get what was comin' to 'im! He stole twenty thousand dollars from us, but that wasn't as bad as the fact he killed a friend of ours in the process!"

"So, if you haven't killed people, how'd you get the reputation as the fastest gun in the West, Thaddeus?"

"I'm fast enough I don't hafta kill anybody, Sam! I like it that way." Curry responded.

"Fellas goin' up against you probably like it that way, too, Kid!" Heyes joked.

"What about Jimmy? An outlaw taking an interest in a young boy seems a bit out of character, too, although I'm coming to realize it's perhaps more in character for you two!"

"Seein' Jimmy's situation when we rode into town struck me as awful similar to our childhoods," Heyes began.

"Thaddeus told me you two were orphans," Sam interjected.

"You may not believe this, but we had good families, who raised us proper, took us t'church, taught us right from wrong, an' then we lost 'em when we were still very young. I figure if we'd had somebody caring take us in, keep raisin' us the same way, instead of bein' tossed into an unfeelin' institution, we wouldn't of become outlaws. I could see Jimmy easily goin' the same way, although the town was carin' for him in its own way, an' I wanted t'try to see he had a chance we didn't get!"

"But you'll be leaving."

Heyes' face was very serious as he said, "I know, an' I can't leave without knowin' he's gonna be cared for properly. The temptation is there t'bring him with us, but I guess you can see now why that wouldn't be the best choice, us bein' outlaws an' all."

"Yeah, I can, so what're you gonna do?"

"I figure that's what me an' Miss Davenport are gonna be talkin' about tomorrow. They've taken a shine to each other an' if Jimmy stays with her I know he'll be gettin' his education."

"Well, I hope you're right - - it would be a good solution to his situation," the wrangler agreed.

"Now I gotta ask you somethin', Sam," Heyes said.

"Okay."

"Knowin' what you know now, do you still wanna come work for us? I'm sure Kid an' I'll understand if you can't in good conscience."

Sam was silent for a long moment, considering, looking at each of the other men in turn in the subdued light from the stove. "I don't see why I should change my mind, Joshua. What I know about you two's true characters far outweighs, at least in my mind, the fact that you're outlaws! Besides, once you get your amnesties you won't be outlaws anymore!"

"Yeah, if we get our amnesties!" the dark haired former outlaw agreed pessimistically.

"I guess this is what you meant when you said you needed someone you could trust to manage the place in case you two had to leave for an extended period, right?"

"Right. If it somehow becomes known that Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry have a ranch in Colorado, it could put Brigitte and Mary in danger and we can't have that!"

"I hope I can live up to your expectations, Joshua, Thaddeus."

"We're not worried on that score at all, are we, Thaddeus?" Heyes looked up at his partner.

"Nope, I think he's gonna fit the bill perfectly!" Curry agreed enthusiastically.

"I appreciate your confidence. I suppose we may have to delay our departure, though, what with you being shot and all."

"What because of this little scratch? I've ridden with far worse! No, we're goin' just as planned: Monday to buy the stud an' on the trail for home early Tuesday mornin'! Think you'll be up for it, Thaddeus?"

"Just try an' stop me, Joshua!" Curry replied adamantly.

"So there you have it, Sam."

Sam's white teeth flashed. "Fine by me, fellas! Now I don't know about you, but I'm tired, I think I'll get some more sleep!"

"I think I can sleep now myself," Heyes agreed.

"I wasn't havin' a problem in the first place!" Curry snorted.

Heyes banked the coals in the stove and shut the grated door securely and it wasn't long before the only sounds heard in the jail were heavy even breathing and soft snores.

Chapter Thirteen

By some miracle Heyes slept later than usual, perhaps from exhaustion, or perhaps because the windows were still covered and the sunlight wasn't allowed in to disturb his slumber, but, whatever the reason, it was nearing eight o'clock before his brown eyes opened on the world again. The aroma of fresh coffee permeated the air. He made an attempt to rise only to fall back with a small groan as the stitches pulled sharply and the abused flesh sent pain alarms along his nerves reminding him of his misadventure of the previous day.

"You okay, Joshua?" Sam asked in concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just forgot for a minute that I've got a replica of the Grand Canyon carved in my ribs!"

"Maybe if you try to get up a little slower," the wrangler suggested.

"I thought I'd try that next," Heyes agreed.

"Do you two have t'make so much noise in the mornin'?" Curry's voice growled from the next cell.

"It's time t'wake up, Thaddeus, or we'll be late t'work!"

"Late t'work? What're you goin' on about, Joshua? We're already at work!" Curry heard a chuckle from the other cell and decided it was better not to fight it and get up - - besides he was hungry.

Having already learned the hard way, Curry rose carefully and to his great relief found the dizziness entirely gone. In place of the nausea was a raging hunger. "I'm starving!" he exclaimed.

"What else is new?" his partner retorted as he eased himself up, taking care to not disturb the stitches. "Tell you what, Thaddeus, you go get my clean shirt outta the hotel room an' we can all go over an' eat in the café today."

"Sure, no problem," Curry replied, pulling on his boots. "Too bad you don't have a change of pants - - you've got an ugly blood stain there."

"You're right about that," Heyes looked down ruefully at the disreputable garment. "I'll wear my shirt out - - that should hide it while we eat. After breakfast I think I'll go buy a new pair, maybe a new shirt, too. Then I'm gonna take a hot bath!"

"That sounds like one of your better plans, Joshua! Should we flip a coin over who gets the bath water first?"

"You don't need to share bath water, fellas," Sam interrupted. "The barber shop has a room with three bathtubs!"

"That's one for each of us!" Curry exclaimed happily. "Joshua always wins the coin toss an' so I get lukewarm water all the time! I'll be right back with your shirt, Joshua!"

Within a short time the three men strolled into the café and took their regular table. Sara came to greet them with coffee and a happy smile. "Mornin', boys! It's good to see you all out and about! How are you, Joshua? I saw what happened yesterday!"

"Yeah, you an' the whole town, I guess! I'm fine, it's just a scratch! Doc stitched it up good."

"That was quite brave of you taking on such a vicious criminal!"

Curry snorted. "Plumb foolish, if'n y'ask me! Joshua's never had a gunfight before an' it's pure dumb luck he survived it!" he said disapprovingly.

"Well, if you hadn't been laid up I'd sure have let you handle it, Thaddeus!"

"Have you been in gunfights before then, Thaddeus?" Sara turned her attention to the blond sheriff.

"One or two," he replied modestly. "It's just I happen t'be a little bit better with a gun than Joshua, not that I'm the fastest gun in the West or anythin' like that, but I can handle myself." He caught sight of Heyes rolling his eyes behind the waitress' back.

"And how's your head this morning, Thaddeus?"

"Much better, thank you, Sara, but my stomach's tellin' me it's been a while since it's been fed!"

Called back to her duty, Sara said, "Oh, forgive me! What can I get you boys?" She took their order and hurried off to the kitchen.

"Nice t'see you so humble there, Thaddeus!" Heyes said wryly.

"What? Should I tell her I really am the fastest gun in the West?" Curry protested.

Their food came in record time and little was said as the three ate with healthy appetites. Eager to get cleaned up, they didn't linger over coffee.

As they paused on the boardwalk, Heyes looked Sam up and down. "I assume if you had a change of clothes it got burned up in your cabin," he commented.

"That'd be a pretty good assumption, Joshua," Sam replied.

"Come on, we're all gonna get some new clothes!"

"I haven't got any money," the wrangler said, somewhat embarrassed.

"Did I ask you? I'm buyin', an' if that bothers you, you can pay me back after your first paycheck! I'm bein' pure selfish here thinkin' about my nose while we're travelin'!"

"Well, in that case, all right, but I'll be paying you back when I've got the money!"

Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins greeted them enthusiastically when they entered the General Store, as did the several other customers who were there. Heyes had to cut them off as they seemed to want to go on and on about the events of the day before.

"I'm sorry to be rude, but we're all three in need of cleanin' up an' we could all use a new set of clothes from the inside out!" he explained to the shopkeepers.

"Oh, of course!" Mrs. Jenkins exclaimed. "I'm sure we can find something in each of your sizes!"

The lady shopkeeper had a good eye for sizes and knew her stock and there were soon three piles of crisp new clothes on the counter, including longjohns and socks.

"Excellent, Mrs. Jenkins, how much do I owe you?" Heyes asked, reaching into his pocket.

"Absolutely nothing, these are a small price to pay for the good you've done Coleville!"

"No, Mrs. Jenkins, we simply can't accept that, you're much too generous!" the sheriff protested.

"You most certainly can!" one of the customers came forward and put some money on the counter. "Here's some money to cover it, Mrs. Jenkins!"

The other customers came up and pitched in money also until the shopkeeper had to tell them to stop that they had paid more than enough for all the clothes.

"There!" she said triumphantly. "It's all been paid for! You can't refuse now!"

Now it was Heyes' turn to be embarrassed. "Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins, I hardly know what to say!"

"Don't say anything! I've felt bad about my attitude when you came in here the very first time and was hoping there was some way I could make it up to you and now I have!"

Heyes picked up his pile of clothes and repeated, "Thank you." Curry and Sam did the same and hurried out of the store to get away from any more effusive expressions of gratitude.

Ralph Moody, the barber and sometime dentist, was a beefy man with a healthy head of brown curls, except for the circular bald spot gleaming on the back of his head. He also wore mutton chop sideburns that connected with his long moustache making it look like his face was split in two uneven halves separated by a hairy border. His blue eyes were topped by two bushy eyebrows, jutting out from his forehead like giant caterpillars. He wore a white banded collar shirt buttoned all the way to the top, and his black trousers were held up by a pair of red suspenders, which happened to match the rosy redness of his cheeks and bulbous nose. There were no customers at this hour of the day and so he sat in his barber chair reading the newspaper. He looked up from his reading when the three men entered and said, cheerfully, "Good morning, Sam, it's been a long time since your last visit! And good morning to you two, also, sheriffs! What can I do for you this fine day?"

"We'd each like a nice hot bath, Mr. Moody," Sam replied.

"Nothing easier! I put the water on to boil just a while ago and it should be ready real soon. Perhaps you'd like a shave while you wait?"

"If you have an extra razor, I'd prefer to shave myself," Curry responded.

"Same for me," Heyes echoed.

"Certainly, my boys! Come, I'll show you."

Mr. Moody led them to the back room where three gleaming copper tubs stood waiting. On the wall were nailed three mirrors with a shelf below at about the average man's waist height. On this shelf rested an enamel basin, a small towel, a bar of soap, and a straight razor. Beside each shaving station was a ladder-back chair. A pot-bellied stove kept the room at a comfortably warm temperature and a kettle of water simmered on top. Using the towel conveniently flung over his shoulder, Mr. Moody picked up the kettle and poured generous measures of hot water into the three basins. "There you go, boys! I'll have the tubs filled by the time you're all done!"

"Thanks, Mr. Moody," Sam said for them all. To Heyes and Curry he said, "If we put our dirty clothes on that bench there, Mr. Moody will see to it they get laundered."

"Well, this is quite the service Mr. Moody provides!" Heyes commented as he unbuttoned his shirt, removed it, and draped it neatly on the back of the chair where he had set his set of new clothes.

"Just don't get a toothache," the wrangler warned. "All he really knows how to do is pull teeth and he doesn't use any anesthesia when he does it!"

"Sounds like you've had experience, Sam," Curry said with a pretend wince followed by a grin. He had also removed his shirt and turned to toss it on the laundry bench.

"No, but . . . damn, Thaddeus!" Sam broke off what he had been about to say when he caught sight of the fifteen livid scars that marked Curry's back. "What the hell happened to you?"

Chagrined that he had forgotten, a tinge of red touched the gunslinger's face, and he was at a loss for words.

"Those are keepsakes from the last 'favor' we did for Lom Trevors!" Heyes explained for his tongue-tied partner.

"And yet you still did another one for him?" The wrangler was amazed.

"Well, to be honest the job had as much to do with our potential futures as it was a favor," the dark haired sheriff clarified. "Let's get shaved and while we're soaking in the tubs, we can give you the short version."

"I'm all ears!"

With great care, but with the skill of years of practice, the three men scraped the whiskers off their faces, Sam finishing a couple of minutes earlier since he was not shaving his upper lip.

"Watch out, Sam, Joshua might start naggin' you 'bout shavin' off that soup strainer on you lip there!" Curry joked. "He ain't partial t'moustaches!"

"That would be moustaches on you, Thaddeus, and me, of course! I've only known Sam with that red bush on his lip so I wouldn't ask 'im t'shave it off cuz then I wouldn't recognize 'im!"

"Hopefully that isn't a condition of employment, because my moustache stays," Sam said emphatically.

"No, it ain't a condition to work for us, Sam - - you can keep it!"

"Generous of you, Joshua!" Curry put in ironically.

"I think so," the other laughed.

While the three were thus engaged, bucket after bucket of boiling hot water was brought in from a massive caldron over a fire in the back and poured into the three tubs. When each tub was filled half way, a bucket of cold water was added to each.

"If you gentlemen would like to test the water for proper temperature," the barber suggested.

Heyes reached his hand in first and pronounced the water perfect as did Curry and Sam. Within moments they had stripped off the rest of their clothing, placed it on the laundry bench, and were sliding with grateful sighs into the steaming water.

Heyes leaned his head back against the tub and sighed in pure contentment. "Ah, now this is pretty close t'heaven!" he proclaimed. "Should've brought cigars to enjoy while we soak!"

"Even a genius can't think of everything, Joshua!" Curry reassured his friend.

"So what's the story on those scars?" Sam asked impatiently. "I can tell they were made by a whip, but who uses whips except the Army and prison guards?"

"In this particular case it was an ex-Army captain," Heyes explained and launched into the tale of how he and the Kid had saved a massive Army payroll from the avaricious hands of the disgruntled Captain Eliot Glover.

"That's an incredible story!" Sam exclaimed when Heyes had finished. "If I didn't have the evidence right there on your back, Thaddeus, I'd have a hard time believing anyone could be so barbaric!"

"I guess you grew up a bit sheltered in the East, Sam," Curry commented, having left the story telling to his partner.

"I reckon you're right. I thought my two years out here had shown me a few things, but I guess I'm still something of a tenderfoot, or greenhorn! I'd think the governor would make good on his promise after something like that!"

"You'd think," Heyes replied bitterly. "It's always: 'it's not the right time," or 'it'd be political suicide'! I think he's hopin' we'll fail so he won't hafta give 'em to us! Meanwhile he's havin' a good laugh at our expense!"

"That's cuz Joshua thinks the governor spends any time at all thinkin' 'bout us! I think he forgets about us completely until Lom reminds him!"

"Well, surely this job here in Coleville will convince him!" Sam said firmly.

"We've 'surely'd' ourselves out, Sam," Heyes sighed. "That's why we're retirin' to our horse ranch an' the governor an' the whole rest of the world can go to hell without us!" He paused and then went on, "Which is another reason why havin' you around will be so helpful - - you'll be able to represent us, the ranch, to the outside world so we won't have t'risk bein' identified!"

"I'll certainly do my best to live up to your expectations, Joshua, Thaddeus, but I'll still be hoping the governor sees fit to honor his promise. As far as I can see you boys deserve it!"

"You ain't heard nothin', Sam!" Curry disagreed. "We've got stories that'd raise the hair on your head!"

"I'd love to hear them if you're willing to tell me," Sam replied eagerly.

Heyes took that moment to interrupt, "We've got at least two weeks on the trail, which is more than enough time to tell you our whole life stories with some left over to make more up! Right now, though, my water's getting' cold an' I'm turnin' into a prune so I think I'll wash up an' get out before the wrinkles become permanent!"

"I'm with you, Joshua!" Curry said.

The three men lathered themselves briskly, though going somewhat carefully over the more tender spots, scrubbed their hair and dunked under to water to rinse. They were grateful for the heat from the potbellied stove as they stepped out of the tubs and quickly toweled off and dressed in their new finery.

"Would you help me rebandage this scratch, Thaddeus?" Heyes asked. He stood dressed only in his white longjohn bottoms, his lean torso bare from the waist up, the roll of bandages Dr. Milburn had left held in his hand.

"Sure, Joshua." Curry's lips compressed as he took the roll of linen and eyed the angry red gash sealed with neat black stitches. "I look forward to the day I never have to bandage you again! Brigitte's not gonna be happy t'see another bullet hole in you!"

"At least she didn't hafta take it outta me! She'll probably make me practice fast drawin'! An' you think Mary's gonna be happy with those stripes on your back messin' up your pretty smooth skin?"

"Just hold this end here!" the blond sheriff growled. He wrapped the bandage as carefully as he could, but his friend still winced when he passed over the stitched wound. "Sorry."

"Not your fault, Thaddeus."

Within a very few moments the wound was neatly bandaged and they could return to dressing.

Heyes had been pleased Mrs. Jenkins had come up with a pair of tan trousers much like his stained pair, although she hadn't been able to replace his favorite dark blue shirt, so he had opted for a black one instead. Curry had selected a gray pair of trousers and a light blue chambray shirt that did wonders for his eyes, or so Mrs. Jenkins had declared. Sam had opted for jeans and a red shirt. The Kid slipped his brown leather vest on while Heyes bypassed his vest, choosing to remove the badge and pin it straight to his shirt. Three men buckled on well-worn gunbelts and tied them down.

Curry watched Sam do this with a curious look in his eye. "Are you any good with that gun, Sam?" he asked.

"I can usually hit what I aim at, if that's what you mean - - I'd've starved to death if I couldn't," the wrangler replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Tyin' your gun down like that tells certain people certain things about you."

"Like I'm a gunslinger, or something?" Sam asked, aghast.

"Or something," the gunslinger agreed. "Why do you, if you don't mind my askin'?"

"I didn't even wear this thing constantly until after Mr. Cole fired me and his boys started harassing me, then I decided I'd better keep it handy just in case they got a little too serious! It got in the way, flopping all over the place, when I was working with the horses so I added the thong and started to tie it down. I did it for purely practical reasons."

"I see. Well, that makes sense. Maybe you an' I can take a few shots together an' I can see just how good you are," Curry suggested.

"I'd like that, Thaddeus, even though I have no intention of becoming a gunslinger!"

"Being proficient with a firearm is pretty much a requirement if you're gonna work with us," Heyes put in wryly. "If you haven't noticed yet, trouble seems to be drawn to us!"

"Yes, well, I guess I see what you mean," Sam admitted. "I'm pretty sure I can hold my own, though, as long as I don't have to have a shoot out like you did yesterday, Joshua!"

"We'll find some time and see what you can do," Curry assured him.

"Thaddeus has enough students to start his own school!" Heyes ribbed his partner. "He taught Brigitte to fast draw an' now I'm afraid to argue with her!"

"Very funny, Joshua!"

"Ah, there's nothin' like bein' clean!" Heyes sighed, changing the subject.

"You can say that again, Joshua! I feel like a new man!" Curry agreed.

"Well, I'm not so sure I like that, Thaddeus, I was kinda fond of the old man you were!" Brown eyes twinkled and a dimpled smile flashed.

"Who you callin' old?" the blond demanded indignantly.

"C'mon, let's get outta here!"

Sam listened in amusement to the two friends' easy banter and found it hard to reconcile with their outlaw background, but he had no regrets at having thrown in his lot with them.

The three men exited the bathing room and settled up with Mr. Moody. He assured them that their dirty clothes would be cleaned and ready for them by Monday afternoon

"What next?" Curry asked once they were out on the boardwalk.

The sound of many hammers pounding could be heard reverberating down the main street. "How 'bout we check on the progress of the new livery stable? Sounds like they're really goin' at it!" Heyes suggested.

"Lead on, Joshua!"

Coleville was the very model of the quiet little town it was reputed to be as the three men walked up the street, in fact, were it not for the sounds of construction, it could've be a ghost town! It was immediately apparent why when they approached the construction site: every available man was busily hammering, supporting, carrying, lifting, toting, or in some way aiding in the project. The four wall frames that had been lying on the ground had now been raised and nailed together. Men were balanced on beams framing the sloping roof, while others were busily hammering planks to the frames to complete the walls. Heyes, Curry, and Sam stood awestruck at the sight.

The womenfolk were also represented - - tables had been set up and were now laden with food of every description. A fire pit had been dug and the oldest of the children took turns turning the side of beef that roasted on the spit.

"That's amazing, absolutely amazing!" Heyes exclaimed. "I remember seein' a barn raisin', or two, growin' up, but I hadn't really understood then just how much work an' coordination went into it. Do you remember 'em, Thaddeus?"

"Yeah, but all I remember really is runnin' around, snitchin' food, an' getting' in everybody's way!" the younger man replied with a grin.

"Well, the mayor said it would be ready today an' it sure looks like he's gonna be right! Too bad we're all too banged up t'lend a hand!"

Curry rolled his eyes and said, "Too bad for you maybe, Joshua, but I won't lose any sleep over it!"

Heyes' attention was diverted by a familiar tiny figure amongst the women and he said, "Would you two excuse me? I think I'll go have that chat with Miss Davenport that I missed yesterday."

"Sure, go ahead, Joshua. Sam, you up t'showin' me what you can do shootin'?" Curry asked the wrangler.

"Why not?" Sam shrugged.

"We'll meet you back at the office, Joshua."

"Okay."

The three parted ways and Heyes made a beeline to the petite woman helping out at the tables of food. She had her back to him when he cleared his throat and said, "Kathleen?"

She spun around, a startled look on her face, a slight blush staining her cheeks. "Oh, Joshua! You startled me!"

He removed his hat politely and replied, "It surely wasn't my intention. I came to apologize for not being able to come see you yesterday!"

"Good heavens, you have nothing to apologize for! Jimmy told me all about what happened! Are you quite all right? Should you be up at all?"

With a gentle smile he assured her, "I'm quite all right, Kathleen. Jimmy surely exaggerated my injury. Perhaps, if it's not too inconvenient, we could take a short walk and have that talk now."

"That would be wonderful."

Heyes replaced his hat and held out his elbow for her to take lightly. They strolled away from the hustle and bustle, but not so far as to be inappropriately out of sight. They stopped by the corral of horses and he leaned one elbow on a rail and looked down at the schoolmarm. There was something different about her today, but he couldn't figure it out and then it struck him - - her hair had been released from its tight bun and was clipped loosely at the back of her neck creating a softer frame for her face. "You're looking lovely today, Kathleen - - you should wear your hair down more often."

The blush rose even stronger as her eyes dropped modestly. "You are much too kind, Joshua."

"I'm merely speaking the truth." He smiled down into her eyes. "What was it you wished to speak to me about yesterday?"

"Yes, well, I know how fond you have become of Jimmy, as have I in the short time we have had together, so I thought I should approach you first about my desire to adopt him! I will certainly understand and refrain from any moves in that direction if you have considered the idea yourself."

"You're right that I have considered the idea of adopting Jimmy myself," he began and was surprised to see disappointment plain in her face. "However, my first concern is what is best for him, and that would be a stable home, which I am unable to give him at this time. Thaddeus and I have some land in Colorado where we are in the process of building a horse ranch. It is in a very remote area and when we get back there a great deal of our time will be spent getting the ranch up and going and so I wouldn't be able to spend the proper amount of time with Jimmy. His education is also a top concern and our ranch is some distance from the nearest school, not to mention children his own age. These considerations have gone around and around in my head mixed in with my selfish desire to keep him with me and, truth be told, I think he would've been better off with me if he was to continue living in the stable! Your offer to adopt him changes everything! You can give him a stable home and see to his education at the same time, so I can tell you that I wholeheartedly approve of your intentions!"

"There is one problem, a rather large one actually, that stands in my way."

"And what would that be?"

"My teaching contract specifically states that it is null and void if I get married or have children. Now, Joshua, I love my job, I'm good at my job, and I don't see how adopting Jimmy would affect the performance of my duties, but there it is in black and white with my signature stating that I understand the rules! I would be unemployed and then how would I care for Jimmy?"

"That's a horrible condition!" Heyes exclaimed. "Surely there is some way to appeal?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Who would one speak to about this situation?"

"Any appeal would have to go through the city council."

"Very well, I will take it up with the city council. When do they meet?"

"They meet every first Wednesday of the month which is a week from this coming Wednesday."

"Hmm, that does present a slight problem since Thaddeus and I are leaving Tuesday." If possible, Miss Davenport's face looked even more disappointed. Heyes patted her hand reassuringly. "I will find an answer, don't worry. You haven't mentioned the possiblility to Jimmy yet, have you?"

She shook her head. "I didn't want him to get his hopes up only to have them dashed!"

"Good, don't mention it until we know more for sure! Now I'd better get you back to the other womenfolk before they start ugly rumors about your virtue!"

They strolled back to the tables and Heyes gallantly kissed her hand, causing her to blush again. "Pretend as if nothin' is afoot; I'll let you know what I figure out!"

"Thank you, Joshua!" she said warmly.

"Think nothing of it, Kathleen, we both want what's best for Jimmy an' we'll see that he gets it! I'll be in touch!" He tipped his hat politely and strolled away, leaving her to weather the curious looks and questions of the other women.

His mind churned with conflicting thoughts and his heart with conflicting emotions: his head telling him giving Jimmy up was the best thing, his heart rebelling at the thought of never seeing the boy again. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned back.

"Miss Davenport, if I may beg another moment of your time," he said, startling her again and causing the now extremely curious looks of the matrons to turn upon him.

"Certainly, Sheriff Smith," she replied politely following his lead in maintaining the more formal means of address.

He led her away from prying eyes and ears, though not so far as before, before saying, "Kathleen, I must admit to being confused by my own feelings, but the thought of not seeing Jimmy again, or not for many years, pains me considerably. I wonder if we might come to some sort of arrangement."

"What do you have in mind, Joshua?"

"What if Jimmy spent the summers with me and Thaddeus on the ranch? You would get a needed rest and Jimmy would gain some experience in outdoor activities such as riding, hunting, fishing, mending fences, you know, manly kinds of things! I know that probably sounds stupid to you, but I'd really hate for him t'become too citified an' prissy!"

To his surprise the teacher laughed, and it was a delightfully musical laugh. "I understand completely, Joshua, and I don't think it's stupid at all! Every boy needs a father figure and Jimmy has already chosen you as his. I think such an arrangement would be beneficial to everyone concerned. Shall we do as men do and seal the agreement with a handshake?" She held out a fine boned, delicate hand.

Heyes took the hand in his, finding it nearly disappeared within it, and gave it a firm, yet gentle shake. "Thank you, Kathleen, you don't know what a weight you've just lifted from my heart!"

"I believe I might understand at least a little, Joshua, but we haven't yet found a way for me to adopt him and keep my job!"

Heyes' eyes twinkled as he grinned. "Don't you worry, Kathleen, I'll come up with a plan!" He tipped his hat and strode away much lighter in spirit.

Kathleen Davenport returned to her duties, a tender smile on her lips, ignoring the whispers and blatantly obvious stares of the other ladies.

Behind the sheriff's office was an empty space that contained what looked like a long hitching rail, though the cross bar was as high as a man's chest. The debris under it, broken glass and rusty holey tin cans, gave evidence that it was for the purpose of target practice.

Curry found six of the rusty cans that were still usable and set them up on the rail. "Okay, Sam, don't worry 'bout drawin', just try an' hit all of the cans as fast as you can."

"All right." Sam took his position, drew his gun calmly and snapped off six shots that sent all six cans flying off their perch.

"Real good, Sam!" Curry said approvingly. "I'll set the cans back up an' you can try fast drawin' if you want."

"Okay, I'll give it a shot!" Both men grinned at the pun.

Once the cans were up and the Kid was safely out of the way, Sam again took his stance, shaking his arm to loosen it.

"On three," Curry instructed. "One . . . two . . . three!"

The wrangler grabbed his gun and pulled it from its holster, and fired as quickly as he could, but this time only three of the cans flew into the air. Sam sighed in disappointment.

"Don't worry, Sam, it takes a lot of practice to put the speed an' accuracy together. Most people don't need the speed an' you've got the accuracy already." Curry said seeing the other man's disappointment.

"Would you show me how fast you are?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Well, I really don't like showin' off, but I guess I could this once. Can you set up the cans?"

"Certainly."

Within a few minutes Sam had returned to Curry's side. "Is that all right?"

"Perfect. I may be a little slow what with this concussion an' all," the blond gunslinger apologized in advance. "Give me a count of three."

"One . . . two . . . three!"

Faster than the eye could follow, Curry's gun filled his hand and six shots followed one after the other, six tin cans flying into the air! With a flamboyant twirl, Curry replaced the weapon in his holster.

"Damn!" Sam exclaimed, his eyes wide in disbelief. "I thought Joshua was fast yesterday, but that was incredible!"

Curry shrugged off the praise. "Joshua's better'n he thinks an' better'n I like t'tell 'im in case he gets any ideas! Seein' 'im yesterday in the street facin' Mace near stopped my heart with fear! Reckon he feels the same way watchin' me."

"You reckon right, Thaddeus," a familiar voice said from behind and the two shooters turned to see Heyes leaning casually against the door frame, one foot crossed over the other, arms folded across his midsection.

"How long you been standin' there, Joshua?" Curry demanded.

"Long enough t'hear you admit I ain't too shabby with a gun!" Heyes replied teasingly.

"Yeah, so? I didn't think you cared 'bout bein' a gunhand!" the gunslinger retorted.

"I don't. I just like knowin' I could be if I put my mind to it!"

"Don't put your mind to it then, please," Curry begged. "Seein' you gunned down now twice is about all I can take! Don't forget last time you nearly died despite all Brigitte's efforts! This time the flaw, that I tried to break you of, is the only thing that saved you!"

"Lady Luck loves me it seems!" Dimples flashed.

"She has up to now, but you know Lady Luck is fickle an' bound t'turn on you when you need her the most!" Curry paused and then changed the subject. "I thought you were talkin' with Miss Davenport anyway!"

"I was, I did, we finished our conversation!"

"Well, what did she want?"

"She wants to adopt Jimmy and wanted t'make sure I didn't mind!"

"And do you mind?" Curry pressed his partner.

"No - - yes - - no, really he's better off in a stable environment that she can provide better than you an' me, Thaddeus!" He paused, then said, "It also seems that she'll lose her teacher job if she somehow becomes a mother so she wouldn't be able to support him! I'm puttin' my mind t'how we can get around that little obstacle."

"Well, I'm sure you'll come up with something!"

"I do have one idea, but I want your approval."

"What's that?"

"The reward for Mace Chandler is five thousand dollars - - I thought about puttin' in t'claim it an' set it up in a bank account for Jimmy's use - - of course Miss Davenport would have access until he's of age."

"Why do you want my approval? You killed 'im so the reward is rightfully yours!"

"We're partners, Thaddeus, an' if you haven't noticed we share both the good an' the bad! Five thousand dollars would certainly go a long ways in gettin' our ranch up an' runnin'!"

"Yeah, but this money would be as tainted as the reward for Luke Potter, which you rejected! Usin' it for Jimmy's benefit now would be a very good cause! Then it wouldn't matter if Miss Davenport lost her job."

"True, but she loves teachin', Thaddeus! Why should she hafta give it up just cuz she's raisin' a child?"

"Beats me."

"Well, I'm gonna find a way she can have both! And I'm gonna talk t'Mr. Hoffman about that bank account, too!"

"All right, Joshua, I know better'n t'get in your way when you get somethin' in your head like this! Just remember we're leavin' Tuesday an' not a day later!"

"I'm not likely t'forget, Thaddeus, bein' as eager as you t'leave this town behind!" the dark sheriff snorted.

Curry sighed and ran a hand across his eyes. Heyes was immediately concerned. "You all right, Thaddeus?"

"I'm a mite tuckered, Joshua, an' my head hurts some!"

"You've overdone it today! Get yourself back t'bed an' rest!" Heyes ordered.

"I ain't restin' 'less you rest, too, Joshua! You got shot yesterday, remember?" Curry retorted hotly.

"One of us oughta stay on duty, don't you think?"

"I'll man the office while you both rest," Sam volunteered. "Nothing's going to happen while the whole town's over building the livery stable!"

Heyes and Curry both groaned. "Never say that, Sam! You'll jinx us!" Heyes stated emphatically.

"You're not serious!"

"Never more so! We've had experience! Ain't we, Thaddeus?"

"Huh!" was all the gunslinger would say while he shook his head and sighed.

"But you go ahead and tend the office while we get a little rest. Wake us if you need anything, all right?"

"Sure, no problem!" Sam was mystified by this manifestation of superstition in two otherwise well grounded, practical men, but thought it wouldn't hurt to humor them.

"Much obliged."

Neither man took off his gunbelt when he lay down on his bed and drifted off to sleep.

Sleeping with their guns on turned out to be an unnecessary discomfort as nothing at all happened while they slept. However the rest had done them good.

Heyes woke first, sitting up quickly, but carefully to not rip his stitches, an excited gleam in his eyes. "Thaddeus, you awake?" he called to his partner.

"I wasn't, but I am now! What is it?" growled the still sleepy gunslinger.

"I've just come up with the way to open a Brooker 202, or 404, and probably the 606 if they come up with one! It may even work on the Pierce and Hamilton!"

"We ain't in the business anymore, Joshua! You don't need t'dream up this kind of stuff anymore!"

"I know, I know, but I gotta try it just to see if it'll really work! I wonder what kind of safe Mr. Hoffman has in his bank?" the ex-safecracker mused.

"You ain't serious, are you?" Curry sat up and stared incredulously at his partner. "What if we get caught? That ain't gonna sit well with the governor!"

"Who's gonna catch us? We're the law! 'Sides, we ain't gonna steal anything, an' nobody will ever know we were there!"

"You are serious! I can't believe this!"

"You don't hafta come along, Thaddeus, if you don't want." Heyes said, the disappointment heavy in his voice.

"Of course I've gotta come along, if you're dead set on doin' this! Who else is gonna watch your back? But I think you've finally lost your mind!"

Sam, who had listened intently to this interchange from his seat at the sheriff's desk, asked, "Can I come, too? I'd love to see this!"

"Sure, why not? An extra pair of eyes keepin' watch ain't a bad idea," Heyes replied.

Curry threw up his hands in total frustration. "Why don't you invite the whole town? Sell tickets even?"

"C'mon, let's go, I've gotta go find Mr. Hoffman an' talk to 'im about the reward an' settin' up the bank account. I'll get 'im t'take me over to the bank an' I can check the layout."

"Now? Joshua, it's dinnertime!"

Heyes looked at his friend in some amusement and said shrewdly, "I'm bettin' Mr. Hoffman is over at the livery stable construction an' if you'll recall there was a veritable feast laid out over there! I'm sure the good ladies of Coleville will fall all over themselves to feed a wounded hero from the fire!"

Despite himself, Curry's eyes lit up. "All right, I'm comin', but I ain't gonna stop tryin' t'convince you how crazy this idea is!"

"Fine, let's go!"

As Heyes had predicted, the women were eager to feed the injured men and piled plates high with tasty dishes and slices of juicy beef. Most of the other men had already eaten and gone back to work.

The walls of the new stable were now completed and some of the workers were inside building the stalls, flooring the hayloft, constructing troughs and feeding racks, while others were on the roof nailing on the shingles.

Heyes finished his food and, while his partner and Sam went for seconds, he began his errands. He didn't immediately see Mayor Hoffman although he was fairly sure that, being the leader of the town, he was around somewhere supervising if nothing else. In the meantime he spotted Otis tossing hay into the corral of horses and wandered over to have a word with the grizzled old man.

"Afternoon, Otis, I understand you lost a horse during the fire. Did it ever come back?"

"Nope, didn't have no brand, anybody coulda caught 'im an' rode off with 'im. Mebbe he's runnin' with the mustangs now!"

"That's too bad. What would you think about replacin' 'im with that fine buckskin there?"

"Ain't he the horse o'that feller you shot?"

Heyes winced at the cold question but replied, "Yeah."

"Good horse. Keep th'gear, too?"

"Gear, too," Heyes agreed.

"Why ain't you keepin' 'im? I reckon he's rightly yours."

"He is a mighty fine horse, but we're already drivin' Sam's ten half-broke mustangs there an' I'm hopin' t'pick up a stud from Mr. Cole, so I figure the three of us'll have our hands full. I'd like t'know the buckskin'll be well cared for."

"That he will be, sheriff, much obliged. Woulda hurt some t'lose the little I make from horse leasin'." The old man managed a smile and shook hands to seal the deal.

"By the way, you seen the mayor around here anywhere?"

"Last I seen 'im he was inside gettin' in ever'body's way," Otis informed the sheriff.

"Thanks, Otis."

Sure enough when Heyes went into the new stable he found Mayor Hoffman in the midst of the workers ostensibly supervising, but mostly being a nuisance. It seemed being a banker and a politician didn't give one the necessary skills for construction. Heyes, on a more cynical day, would have scorned the man for blatant pandering, but that wasn't today because he realized that the mayor's heart was in the right place and he wanted to be involved somehow in the rebuilding. "You're really gettin' soft, Heyes!" he said to himself with a shake of his head. Outloud he said, "Mayor Hoffman, I wonder if I could have a few words with you in your capacity as banker?"

"Absolutely, my boy! What can I do for you?"'

"It's a little involved, sir, do you think we could go to your office and discuss it? I hate to take you away from this important project, but what I've got to ask is pretty important, too."

"Certainly, I'm sure the work here is well in hand and can do without my supervision for a little while! Come along!"

Heyes wasn't blind to the looks of relief from some of the workers and he smothered a grin.

"Perhaps you could begin to fill me in as we walk, sheriff," the banker suggested.

"Of course. Mace Chandler, the man I killed yesterday, had a five thousand dollar reward on his head - - I'd like to claim that reward."

"That's your prerogative, of course, Sheriff Smith, and a simple matter, but I don't see how it involves me."

"Well, perhaps I should state it another way. I would like you to claim the reward on my behalf and put it in an account for Jimmy's care, with Miss Davenport as the person in charge of its proper use until Jimmy is of age!"

Surprised, Mayor Hoffman stopped in his tracks. "Well, that is an unusual request, Sheriff Smith, and somewhat more complicated to set up, but certainly not undoable! Five thousand dollars is quite a tidy sum - - are you certain this is what you want to do with it?"

"Completely, sir. I've become fond of the boy and I don't want to leave town without knowing that he'll be properly cared for."

"That's very generous of you, Sheriff Smith," the banker approved. "Come, let's continue on and get the paperwork set up. Why Miss Davenport, may I ask?"

"She's become as fond of him as I have and I'm sure she'll see that it's used wisely."

They ascended the stairs to the bank's doors and the banker removed a key from his vest pocket to unlock the door. He raised several blinds to let the daylight in and Heyes' eyes were delighted by sight of a Brooker 404 safe behind the teller windows.

"I see you have a top of the line safe there, Mr. Hoffman," he commented.

"Yes, it is for the moment, although I've been told the new 606 will be in production early next year. I have found the 404 to be quite satisfactory, however." The banker beamed with pride.

"Has your bank ever been robbed, Mr. Hoffman?" Heyes inquired.

"Good heavens, no! Coleville is much too small and remote to be of interest to bank robbers, sheriff! You'll notice I haven't had to install bars on the windows, and a simple lock on the door has been sufficient security!" Mr. Hoffman boasted.

"Well, that is certainly gratifying, I'm sure!" the ex-bank robber nodded.

They proceeded to the bank president's office where various forms were produced which Heyes had to approve and one authorizing Mr. Hoffman to claim the reward on the sheriff's behalf that he had to sign as Acting Sheriff Joshua Smith.

When all the formalities were completed, Heyes said, "One last thing, Mr. Hoffman, I'd like you to keep this to yourself until after we've gone and the reward has arrived. I'm afraid Miss Davenport might protest if she were to find out in advance. Can you do that?"

"Absolutely, my boy, nothing simpler! You can trust me to handle this matter with the utmost discretion!" boomed the banker.

"Thank you, sir, I was sure I could." Heyes shook the banker's hand and left him there in his office. He took a last professional look around at the bank's layout as he passed past the teller's windows again and then left the bank satisfied and tingling with excitement. One more errand and he'd be ready.

Three shadows moved through the mostly silent streets of Coleville. The saloon was still doing business, but after the long day of work on the stable most of the townspeople had called it an early night, going to their rest satisfied with a job well done. So the three men slinking through the alleyways really had nothing to worry about, but, as the two experienced thieves knew, it was the unexpected that could throw a perfect plan into disarray. Fortunately the bank was at the opposite end of the street from the saloon so chances of being seen by someone staggering out of the bar were slim.

Kid Curry led the way, making sure the path was clear, ever ready to protect his partner. Hannibal Heyes was just behind him, a small black cloth bag in his hand, his eyes gleaming in anticipation, his heart pounded sending the blood rushing through his veins and making him feel even more alive. This heightened sense was what had appealed to him the most in his criminal career. A step behind him was the wrangler Sam Adamson.

Curry gave the all-clear signal and Heyes moved to the front, up the steps to the back door of the bank. He pulled his lock pick out of his boot and made short work of the lock. Curry and Sam slipped into the building and Heyes shut the door behind them. They could have clumped across the floor as there was no one to hear, but by force of habit they walked quietly on their toes, past the president's office where Heyes had been earlier that day and into the main lobby. Within moments they were standing in front of the Brooker 404.

Heyes crouched down in front of the safe, setting down the lumpy bag with a soft clank. He opened it and pulled out a small oil lamp, struck a match and lit the wick, immediately turning the flame low so that it cast its glow just around them.

Out of habit, Curry checked out the window for anyone in the street who might have noticed anything untoward at the bank, but the streets were silent, no hope of being noticed by the law since it was the law inside the bank cracking the safe. "It's all clear, Heyes, get goin' so we can get outta here, okay?"

"You weren't always this tense, Kid," Heyes teased.

"I had less t'lose. D'you really think you can crack this this time?" The memory of his failed attempt in Porterville two years ago was clear in both their minds.

"Well, that's what we're here to find out!" Heyes replied and reached back into the bag, pulling out a stethoscope. "This is what's gonna make all the difference!"

"Where'd you get that?" Curry stared at his partner in disbelief.

"I borrowed it from Dr. Milburn this afternoon."

"You borrowed it? What's he gonna think you're gonna use it for?"

"Not t'open a safe, I can pretty much guarantee that, Kid!"

"How's that gonna help anyway, Heyes?"

"Well, think about it, Kid. Why have I had trouble with these new safes? They're makin' the tumblers quieter, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So this stethoscope makes it easier t'hear little sounds, like heartbeats, and, I hope, tumblers!" the safecracker explained.

"That's about the craziest thing I've ever heard, Heyes!"

"Maybe," Heyes shrugged. "But if you'll be quiet, I'll get busy an' we'll all find out, okay?"

"Fine, just try an' hurry, all right?"

"Keep an eye on the time, would you, Sam?" Heyes asked.

Sam pulled his watch out of his pocket and nodded.

Heyes put the ends of the stethoscope in his ears, knelt, and laid the circular metal part of the stethoscope where he'd normally have laid his ear. His lean, nimble fingers rotated the dial, his eyes closed in concentration. Curry and Sam stood alertly at either side of the safe, watching Heyes while simultaneously listening for any suspicious sounds.

The minutes ticked by with no sounds but that of their breathing and the tiny clicking as the dial rotated. After what seemed an eternity to Curry he heard a sigh he'd heard so many times before in the past. He looked down to see his partner pushed the safe handle up, releasing the door to crack open slightly. A wide grin split Heyes' face, "How long?" he asked Sam.

Sam looked back at his watch and said, "Twenty-five minutes."

"Twenty-five minutes!" the safecracker exclaimed. "Kid, we'd've been unbeatable if I'd've thought of this sooner!"

"You're forgettin' a little thing like the posses, ain't ya?" Curry replied wryly. "They were the other reason we got out of the business, if you remember."

"Of course I remember! I'm not suggestin' we get back in the business, Kid! I'm just excited t'know my idea worked!"

"Yeah, it worked! Now can you relock the safe so we can get outta here? I'm gettin' twitchy!"

"Okay, okay, Kid, relax!" Heyes shut the safe door and twirled the dial for good measure. He rolled up the stethoscope and returned it to the bag, then blew out the lamp and picked it up by its wire handle. "Let's go!"

They left just as stealthily as they'd come in, returning to the sheriff's office through the shadows, even though no one who happened to see them would've questioned the two sheriffs making late night rounds.

"That was fun!" Heyes exulted when they were safely back in the sheriff's office.

"You're twisted, you know that, Joshua?" Curry growled, but there was a playful tone in his voice.

"I can't imagine doing that for fun!" Sam put in. "I'm a nervous wreck!"

"You did good for your first time, Sam," Heyes praised the wrangler.

"First and last," Curry added. "I don't know about the two of you but I think I'll hit the hay! That is if you don't have any other crazy ideas, Joshua!"

"Nope, not tonight, Thaddeus!" Heyes replied cheerfully. "Now tomorrow is a different story!"

"What's happenin' tomorrow?" Curry asked suspiciously.

"We're goin' t'church!" Heyes announced.

"What? Why?" Curry exclaimed.

"I need t'talk to the whole town at the same time an' that's the only place I can."

"I hope the roof don't fall in on us!"

Chapter Fourteen

"You sure this is a good idea, Joshua?" Curry asked at breakfast the next morning.

"Miss Davenport wants to adopt Jimmy, but she'll lose her job if she does, don't seem right t'me! Seems this town'd rather put 'im back livin' in the new stable! We can't hang around 'til the next city council meetin' so I reckon it's gotta be in church today. You worried we might get struck by lightnin', or somethin', Thaddeus?"

"The way our luck's been so far here an' you ain't, Joshua?" the gunslinger snorted.

"We're doin' a good deed gettin' Jimmy a good home, ain't we?" At his partner's nod, he added, "So we shouldn't get hit by lightnin'!"

"D'you know what you're gonna say?"

"Nope, but I'm sure I'll think of somethin'," Heyes said confidently.

"I sure hope you've got your silver tongue all polished up!"

"Me, too. You boys ready?"

Curry and Sam indicated their readiness to leave and the three left the café.

The congregation was just finishing singing when they mounted the several stairs that led to the church door. They removed their hats politely and stepped out of the bright sunshine and into the cooler, muted light of the church. The sunlight through the stained glass windows cast rainbows through the air, across the congregation, and onto the floor.

Reverend Cuthbert had just come to the pulpit to begin his sermon when he spotted the three men standing somewhat uncertainly in the doorway. "Welcome, gentlemen," he said. "Please come in and join us."

Heyes led the way up the aisle and when he came even with the first row of pews he said, "Reverend Cuthbert, I'm sure this is highly unusual, but I wonder if I may address the congregation for a few minutes?"

"Why certainly, sheriff, please come up and speak your mind."

Looking suddenly young and unsure of himself, Heyes mounted the raised platform upon which the pulpit stood. With a kind smile, Reverend Cuthbert stepped aside to allow Heyes to take his place. Curry and Sam stood on the main floor, one to each side of the pulpit. The ex-outlaw looked out over the crowd of townspeople whose faces were lifted to look at him, most wearing expressions of curiosity.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Coleville, I come before you today to speak of injustice which I, in my capacity as a lawman, have had the misfortune to see." He paused and saw that all eyes were on him still curious, but interested. "When Sheriff Jones an' I arrived in Coleville we were shocked to find a young boy, who had the misfortune to be an orphan, livin' in the stable. He seemed happy, true, his physical needs were met to the extent that he wasn't starvin', or naked, or left to the elements, but he was lackin' other basic needs that many of you take for granted. He lacks a permanent home, a family who loves him an' guides him an', until I interfered, he wasn't receivin' an education! I took it upon myself t'see that he was enrolled in school only t'come face to face with the rule that only a parent or legal guardian can enroll a child in school! Now, ladies and gentlemen, I, as a sheriff, understand and respect the need for rules, and I enforce the rules, otherwise known as laws, whether I agree with them, or not, because the makin' of laws is done by people supposedly wiser than me. I'm sure there was some reasonable reason for the rule about who could enroll a child in school, but I believe it was made not considerin' the possibility of a boy like Jimmy. Fortunately, Miss Davenport is a reasonable person and could see that in this instance the rule needed to be set aside. Now an even more serious problem has arisen due to what I consider an unreasonable rule an' only you, the citizens of this good town, have to power to change it. You see, someone wants to adopt Jimmy, give him a good loving home, someone with the means to care for him properly, but that is where the rule I mentioned becomes a problem, because by adopting the means to support Jimmy will be lost. I'm speaking of Miss Davenport whose contract specifically states that she will lose her position if she has a child. I suspect that originally there was a rational explanation for this rule, however, I would like to respectfully request that those of you on the city council reconsider this rule and allow Miss Davenport to adopt Jimmy and continue teaching. Surely you can see the injustice to a young boy who needs a home and to a young woman who desires to give him a loving and happy home. I sincerely hope that when Sheriff Jones and I leave on Tuesday we'll be able to leave knowing that Jimmy is in a stable home rather than his home bein' the stable! Thank you for your time."

Finally finished he stepped away from the pulpit and off the platform, joining his friends, and together they left the church, hearing the rumble of voices as they closed the door behind them.

"You'd make a great lawyer, Joshua!" Sam exclaimed. "If I hadn't agreed with you before, I sure would now!"

"Dr. Milburn says I should be a doctor, now you say I should be a lawyer! Sounds like too much work t'me!" Heyes joked.

"Joshua is famous for his silver tongue," Curry put in.

"I can see why!"

"They haven't said they'd bend the rule yet," the dark eyed sheriff cautioned.

"How could they not after that speech?" Sam asked.

"I hope so," Heyes said fervently. "If they don't I may hafta reconsider an' take 'im with us! I'm sure the O'Reilly's would welcome Jimmy, but it'd be awful presumptuous of me t'just assume like that! Not t'mention shiftin' the responsibility I chose onto them!"

"Well, there's no need t'go crossin' bridges 'til we get there, Joshua," Curry stated firmly.

"You're right of course, Thaddeus."

They strolled down the boardwalk to the café to ask if there were any apples available. Sara brought out a bag of the fruit that had been rejected by the cook because of their numerous bruises, or wormholes.

Thus armed, they continued on to the livery stable where they found their horses, plus the buckskin, comfortably installed in the newly built stalls - - fresh straw beneath their hooves. The half-wild mustangs continued their stay in the corral. They assured themselves that there was ample water for all of the animals and then quartered the apples so that there were sufficient pieces for even the mustangs.

Sam had worried that the horses would have forgotten him and regressed to their wild state during his weeklong absence, but was thrilled when they trotted eagerly to him when he began to whistle "Dixie". They crowded and jostled each other in their greed for the tasty tidbits, but Sam was careful to make sure each horse got a piece. When they were sure he had nothing else to give them, they gradually drifted off. Sam leaned his arms on the top rail, one foot raised to rest on the bottom rail.

"They're some mighty fine animals all right, Sam," Curry said as he and Heyes joined him. "When we first saw 'em we didn't pay any attention to if they were mares or stallions - - didn't know it'd matter. What've y'got there?"

"Four are young stallions that I'd figured to geld once they were broken; the rest are mares," Sam answered.

"Hmm, sounds like it could get lively movin' 'em down to Colorado," Heyes grunted.

"I think we'll be able to do it without any trouble," the wrangler disagreed. "I've been putting some thought into it."

"Besides, even if we had some, Joshua, it'd be easier than the trouble we've been havin'," Curry put in.

"That's very true."

They strolled casually back towards the jail and saw that the townspeople were leaving the church at the same time.

"When I saw Dr. Milburn yesterday he said he'd be comin' by after church to take out your stitches, Sam," Heyes said.

"That's good - - they itch!" Sam replied.

"I'll bet he'll be glad t'see us leave," Curry said with a shake of his head and a half laugh. "He probably hasn't had so much to do in years!"

"And I'm sure he'll see to it the town pays him well for it," Heyes added. "We may just be the most expensive sheriffs they've ever had!"

"D'you think Sheriff Watkins could've handled all this? Maybe it's a good thing we were here," Curry wondered aloud.

"Then again, would there have been so much trouble if we hadn't been here?" Heyes mused then paused before going on, "He'd've had to deal with Mr. Cole an' Sam for sure."

"And I'd be locked in a cell waiting for trial without you two to strike a deal with Mr. Cole," Sam put in gratefully.

"That's a good thing," Curry admitted. "An' we didn't have anythin' t'do with the fire startin', Joshua, an' maybe nobody'd have rescued Jimmy!"

"There's a thought too horrible to contemplate!" the dark haired sheriff shuddered. "But what about Mace? Sheriff Watkins wouldn't've stood a chance against him!"

"Would Mace have caused any trouble if we hadn't been here, though? It was me he was gunnin' for."

"Mace would've found trouble no matter what - - he was just bad through an' through! The world's a better place 'im!"

"Can't disagree with you there, Joshua. Another good thing t'come out of our bein' here is that Jimmy's more'n likely gonna have a home! All in all I think it's good we came even if we're goin' home with more scars than we came with."

"You're probably right, Thaddeus. Still be glad t'see the last of Coleville, though," Heyes said emphatically.

"You won't get any arguments from me there, Joshua!"

"That's a first!" Heyes joked.

""Looks like we're getting more company than the doc," Sam interjected.

Coming up the street to meet them was Dr. Milburn accompanied by Miss Davenport and Jimmy, who both wore happy smiles.

"I had to come and tell you, Joshua," Miss Davenport said as the two groups met. "The service turned into an impromptu council meeting after you left and the entire town voted to allow me to keep my position and adopt Jimmy!"

"That's great news, Kathleen! I hardly hoped they'd move so quickly," Heyes replied with his own dimple-flashing grin.

"Joshua's silver tongue does it again!" Curry added with a proud smile and a clap on his friend's shoulder.

"Are you okay with this, Jimmy? Will you be happy stayin' with Miss Davenport forever?" Heyes asked the young boy seriously.

"I'd like that a lot and you could come stay with her, too!" the boy replied.

A stunned, uncomfortable silence fell over the adults and a blush suffused Miss Davenport's cheeks.

Heyes squatted down and looked seriously into the boy's eyes. "I can't stay, Jimmy! I hafta go home! Sheriff Watkins is comin' back tomorrow an' so Mr. Jones' an' my job is finished," he explained gently.

Heyes' heart wrenched as Jimmy's eyes filled with tears and his lower lip trembled. "B-but I thought you liked me!" he whispered in a shaky voice.

The former outlaw pulled the boy into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Oh, I do like you, Jimmy! I like you a whole lot an' that's why I'm not bein' selfish an' takin' you with me! Miss Davenport can give you a better home than I can right now, an' make sure you get your schoolin'."

"I'd rather go with you!" Jimmy's voice was muffled against Heyes' shoulder.

"I know, I know," Heyes said, patting the thin back. Then he grasped Jimmy's shoulders and pushed him away so he could look into his eyes. "Miss Davenport has agreed you can come to Mr. Jones' and my ranch every summer!" A calloused thumb brushed an errant tear off a pale cheek.

"Really?" Jimmy's voice still wavered but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. "Can I have a horse of my very own?"

"Any one you want," Heyes promised.

"But I'll miss you," he still wasn't ready to let it go.

"I'll write to you an' now you'll be able t'read 'em an' write me back. You will write me back, won't you, Jimmy?"

"Of course I will, Mr. Smith!"

"Good boy!" Heyes ruffled the dark hair and rose to his feet. "I think this calls for a celebration - - may we buy you and Jimmy dinner, Kathleen? You're welcome, too, Dr. Milburn."

"I thank you for the kind invitation, Joshua," Dr. Milburn replied. "But my dinner is waiting for me as soon as I finish up here."

"Jimmy and I would be happy to join you, Joshua, wouldn't we, Jimmy?" Miss Davenport accepted graciously.

"Yeah!" Jimmy cheered.

"Could we call for you in, say, half an hour? Dr. Milburn's gotta remove stitches an' I'm sure it's nothin' a lady would care t'watch."

"I'm hardly squeamish, Joshua, but I'll save you the trouble of coming for us. Jimmy has an errand at the livery stable so we will come back here in half an hour."

"That'll be perfect. See you then."

When the two were out of earshot, Curry said, "Pourin' the charm on a little heavy, ain't ya, Joshua?"

"Nothin' wrong with bein' polite, Thaddeus," Heyes retorted.

"No, there's not, but I'd call that somethin' more than polite!" the gunslinger snorted.

"Come on!" Heyes growled and stalked to the jailhouse door.

"I'd like to check your stitches first, Joshua," Dr. Milburn said as they entered the jail.

"All right." Heyes removed his shirt and then pulled his henley over his head.

The doctor gently unwound the bandage to reveal the livid gash carved across his ribs and now held together by the neat series of knots, all of which still held.

Dr. Milburn examined it carefully before pronouncing, "It seems to be beginning to heal well. I want those stitches to stay in for another full week, though."

As the doctor began rewinding the bandage, Heyes protested, "But we'll be gone Tuesday!"

"Then you'd best pay attention while I take Sam's out so you'll know how to remove them yourselves!" the doctor barked. "Thaddeus, you'd better pay particular attention since Joshua won't be able to remove his all by himself. How's your head, by the way?"

"Pretty good, doc - - no more seein' two Joshuas, no more dizziness or nausea, just maybe a little headache if I'm tired," the blond sheriff explained, absently touching the scabbed gash on his head.

"You never mentioned still havin' headaches, Thaddeus," Heyes scolded.

"That's cuz they ain't nothin' t'complain about, Joshua!"

"Hmmph!" the other sheriff grunted.

Dr. Milburn opened his black bag and took out a very small pair of scissors and tweezers. "All right, boys, watch carefully because I'm going to have you both give it a try - - if that's all right with you, Sam!"

"Sure, why not? I don't care who takes 'em out as long as they come out!" the wrangler shrugged.

"So, what you want to do is snip just under the knot, like this," the doctor explained as he worked. "Then grasp the knot with the tweezers and it'll pull right out. See?"

"That's pretty easy!" Heyes commented.

"Definitely easier than putting them in," Dr. Milburn agreed. "I'll do one more then you can try."

The two outlaw-sheriffs watched intently once again as the doctor easily removed another stitch and then straightened to ask, "Who wants to go first?"

"I will!" Heyes volunteered eagerly.

"Very well," the doctor said, handing him the instruments. He watched carefully as Heyes' lean, sensitive fingers handled the instruments almost delicately, snipping and removing the stitch with ease.

"That's all there is to it?" he asked in near disappointment.

"Yes, that's all there is, Joshua, it's not surgery, I'm afraid."

"Oh, I've done my share of cuttin' into fellas, doc, bullet removal mostly, snake bite or two, an' I ain't really in a hurry t'do any more surgery. Never did any stitchin', though, mostly used pressure t'stop the bleedin', or cauterized it if it was really bad."

"Sounds a lot like battlefield surgery, though you don't appear old enough to have been in the war."

"No, it's just been the result of livin' on the frontier, doc," Heyes hedged. "C'mon, your turn, Thaddeus."

Curry took the proffered instruments and matter of factly, if less elegantly, removed a stitch.

"Well done, gentlemen, I see I have no need for concern about Joshua's care once you leave Coleville," Dr. Milburn applauded.

"Only one thing, doc," Heyes began.

"What's that, Joshua?"

"We don't have these fine instruments t'do the job."

"You must take those with you of course!" the doctor exclaimed. "And don't worry, I have others."

"Thanks, doc, we can send 'em back to you when we get t'Coldwater."

"If you feel you must, but you needn't bother! As I said, I have others. Keep them - - you may find them useful in other ways. Now, let me finish removing these stitches so I can go to my dinner before my wife tosses it out!"

In a very short time he was pulling the last stitch saying, "The scars may look bad at the moment, Sam, but they'll fade quickly and be, for all intents and purposes, unnoticeable. I'm positive you'll not frighten any eligible young ladies!"

Sam chuckled. "That's the least of my worries, doc."

"What? A healthy strapping young man such as yourself hasn't any interest in young ladies? Somehow I seriously doubt that! Well, I must be on my way! I certainly hope you three can avoid any call for my services between now and your departure!"

"We'll do our best, Dr. Milburn," Curry assured him.

"Don't forget to take this, Dr. Milburn, and thank you very much for lending it to me," Heyes said, holding out the borrowed stethoscope.

"Did it help you with that mysterious experiment you needed it for?" the doctor queried, unmasked curiosity in his eyes.

"It was perfect!" Heyes crowed. "If I'd only come up with the idea years ago, well, things might've been different! But as it stands, it's all for the best. Thank you again, doc."

"It was my pleasure, young man," said the medical man as he placed the stethoscope in his black bag and snapped it shut. "Take care of yourselves, boys!"

"We'll do our very best, doc! Thanks!" Curry said by way of farewell as the doctor left the office to a delicious Sunday dinner and a, hopefully, quiet and uneventful Sunday afternoon and evening.

"Boy, it feels great to get those things out of my face!" Sam sighed. "Anybody else starving?"

"I am!" Curry seconded.

"Not another hungry one!" Heyes groaned, but followed the two men outside in time to see Miss Davenport and Jimmy coming down the street.

The five of them went to the café where the cook had prepared chicken and dumplings with fresh, hot apple cobbler for dessert. Jimmy had regained his good humor and pelted the three men with questions about horses and ranches and what was Colorado like? All in all it was a lively and joyous meal, which led into a thankfully lazy end of the day.

As the sun sank into the fiery horizon the three men sat smoking cigars outside the sheriff's office enjoying a companionable silence. Heyes, naturally, was the first to break it.

"You know, I don't see any reason why any of us need to sleep in the jail anymore," he said, blowing a stream of smoke into the air. "Not that the cots in the cells aren't comfortable enough, but I'm pretty sure I remember that the hotel beds are much better."

"I seem to remember the same thing, Joshua, and I wouldn't mind a couple of good night's sleep before spendin' the next two weeks or more sleepin' on the hard ground!" Curry replied.

"I don't mind sleeping here in the jail," Sam said.

"You don't have money for a room, do you, Sam?" Heyes asked shrewdly and at the wrangler's embarrassed shrug added, "You'll take a room at the hotel on us, and I won't hear any arguments - - we need you to be rested, too! We'll deduct it from your first paycheck - - whenever that might be - - if you've got a pride problem!"

"It isn't pride," Sam denied. "I just don't like being beholden to anybody!"

"Sounds like pride t'me! Don't it sound like pride t'you, Thaddeus?"

"Yup, sure sounds like pride t'me, too, Joshua!" Curry replied with a grin.

"Don't worry, Sam, by the time we get t'Coldwater, Colorado, you'll have worked off any debt you might've owed! So, no arguments, we're sleepin' in the hotel tonight!"

"I guess you're the boss, Joshua."

Heyes' broad grin flashed and he nudged Curry with his elbow. "I think I'm gonna like this guy, Thaddeus! He called me the boss!"

"Aw, don't go flatterin' 'im, Sam!" Curry groaned. "He's already got a big enough head as it is!"

"Hah!" Heyes retorted in mock offense.

They returned to smoking in silence and when night had fallen and Coleville had settled in to sleep, the three men found well deserved rest on the comfortable mattresses and crisp linens of the hotel's fine rooms.

Chapter Fifteen

True to form, Heyes was up before first light and roused first Curry and then knocked on Sam's door to wake the wrangler, but found him already up and shaving. "Some habits are hard to break even with a soft bed," he said in response to the surprised look in the sheriff's eyes.

"Well, Kid'll be happy if you make the coffee instead of me!"

"I don't have a problem with that."

Kid Curry was overjoyed that, at least this trip, he wouldn't be tortured by having to drink his partner's coffee.

They grabbed a quick breakfast and were on the road to the Circle C before most of Coleville began to stir. Heyes' goal was to complete the purchase and be back in time to meet Sheriff Watkins on the four o'clock stage. He hoped to have him briefed on all that had happened while he was gone and have collected their pay, too, so that they could make an early start Tuesday. Realistically, he realized that such an early start as they'd made this morning was unlikely, still he hoped to put serious miles between themselves and Coleville before they had to camp for the night.

"Are any one your horses fit to use as a pack horse, Sam?" Heyes asked as they rode along.

The wrangler thought for a moment before saying, "A couple of them wouldn't be bothered by carrying a load. Why?"

"I'm thinkin' we may need t'carry a few more supplies than we'd wanna burden our mounts with. This time of the year the weather in the Rockies could change for the worse at a moment's notice so we oughta have extra blankets, slickers for the wet, an' maybe a tarp in case we need t'set up a shelter, things like that. I know it's only the end of September, but by the time we get t'Coldwater it'll be early t'mid-October - - easy t'have snow by then!"

"Ain't you bein' a bit pessimistic, Heyes?" Curry put in with a 'here he goes again' roll to his eyes.

"Nope, just practical," the other man denied. "I don't like bein' cold an' I know you hate it even worse, so I wanna be prepared."

"Whatever you say, Heyes! Ain't not point in arguin' with 'im, Sam," the gunslinger said to the wrangler. "Eight times outta ten he's right anyway!"

"That's good to know, I suppose. What about the other two times?"

"One of 'em is when I'm right an' the other is when neither of us is an' all hell breaks loose!"

"Let's hope this isn't one of the latter times," Sam said fervently.

"It won't be," Heyes assured him with confidence. "By the way, is that jacket all you got in the way of cold weather gear?"

"I'm afraid so," Sam replied with a sigh. "My heavy winter coat went up in smoke with my cabin."

"Hmm, well, that won't do for much longer. Somethin' else t'think about."

They rode onto the Circle C long before there was any indication that they were, but eventually they saw ahead of them a post and rail fence with a gateless entryway over which hung a wood plank sign upon which had been burned "Circle C Ranch" with the brand burned into each corner. The wood of the fence and the sign post had weathered to gray, but showed no signs of decrepitude.

"We've still got a couple of miles before we hit the actual ranch," Sam said.

"Man, how big is this place?" Curry asked in awe.

"No less than ten thousand acres, Kid, maybe more," the wrangler replied.

"No wonder Mr. Cole thinks he owns the valley - - he does own the valley!" Heyes exclaimed. "Well, let's go beard the lion in his den!"

They kicked their horses into a canter and soon came to the first outbuildings and signs of life. Word had somehow spread of their arrival and they were forced to halt by a mounted cowboy with a rifle in the middle of the lane.

"What d'ya want here?" he demanded.

Heyes and Curry straightened in their saddles so their badges could be seen more easily and Heyes replied, "We've come to talk a little business with Mr. Cole."

"What kind of business?"

"That's between Mr. Cole and us. Is this how he greets everyone who comes to visit?"

"Only those he ain't expectin'!"

"Well, I don't think he'd approve of you holdin' Coleville's sheriffs at gunpoint, do you?"

The cowboy frowned and then gestured for them to go on with his rifle. "I'll be right behind you," he said.

Soon they rode into what could only be described as a plaza: on either side were a barn, a stable, a smithy, and other necessary buildings for a working ranch, while to the front was the ranch house. The part that faced them was obviously the original ranch house made of tightly fitted logs, with a wide roofed porch and a stone chimney with a plume of smoke rising from it into the sky. Over the years the main house had been added on to, but these additions had been built with finely planed planks rather than logs and showed the wealth of the owner in the imported glass windows that were clear and without imperfections. The lacy curtains at the windows indicated a woman's touch.

Out of that front door now strode Adam Cole wearing a look on his face that was neither welcoming nor unwelcoming. He was unarmed thus indicating his supreme confidence in the men he had working for him.

"Good morning, Sheriff Smith, Sheriff Jones," he said then paused before acknowledging his former wrangler with a tight, "Sam. What can I do for you gentlemen? Are you here in an official capacity, or is this a social call?"

"We've come on business, Mr. Cole, but not sheriffin' business," Heyes began. "Sheriff Watkins will be back on this afternoon's stage so we won't be sheriffs much longer."

"Then what other kind of business could we have?"

"We've come t'talk to you about a horse - - more specifically about buyin' a horse."

"Oh, well, then, why don't you all step down so we can talk on an equal level?" Cole invited. He looked at their escort and said, "You can go back to work, Phil, everything's under control."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Cole!" The ranch hand spun his horse around and galloped back the way they had come.

"You seem to be riding some fairly decent horseflesh there, why are you interested in another horse?" the rancher asked when the three had dismounted.

"We're lookin' for a stud for our horse ranch in Colorado, which I think I mentioned we were startin' when we spoke a few days ago, an' Sam here says you've got a young colt you might be willin' t'sell," Heyes explained.

Cole cast a keen look at the wrangler. "Were you thinking of Red, Sam?"

""Yes, sir, I was," Sam replied tersely, struggling with his conflicting emotions at facing this man again.

"You know he hasn't been proven yet."

"Yeah, but he comes from a good bloodline and I think he'll produce some fine offspring. Joshua and Thaddeus are just starting out and can't really afford a proven stud yet."

"Yes, I can understand that. Well, maybe you ought to see him before we talk any further. I've got some paperwork I've got to finish so would you like to show them, Sam? Red's in the small paddock behind the stable. When you're done come knock on the door and we can have a drink and talk it over."

"Sounds good, Mr. Cole," Heyes said. "He doesn't seem to be holdin' any grudges, Sam," he went on after they were out of earshot.

"Why should he?" Sam shrugged. "I can't bother him anymore!"

Behind the stable was a relatively small fenced grassy field, which was occupied by a solitary horse. He was a blood bay, his coat the glossy dark red of spilled blood, his mane and tail were pitch black, along with his four feet up to the knees. In the larger paddock next to him was a sizeable number of mares to which he was giving his undivided male attention - - his ears pricked alertly. He bugled at them and then raced away, his tail streaming like a flag behind him, his hooves kicking up clods of grass, totally unaware of the admiring looks of the three men leaning against the fence.

"He's a real beauty all right, Sam!" Heyes breathed in admiration. "I can't imagine Mr. Cole wanting to sell him!"

"Like I said, he's unproven, and Mr. Cole has several proven stallions already, including the stud that produced Red there! He's not three years old yet and still not sexually mature so right now he's just a hay burner! With winter coming on selling him will mean one less hungry horse to feed."

"What do you think, Kid?"

"I think three hundred dollars is a steal for him, Heyes, and worth every penny!"

"Well, if it's a steal then we'd be just wrong t'not take 'im!"

"Aw, Heyes!" Curry groaned.

The dark eyed ex-outlaw laughed and said, "C'mon, let's go discuss the particulars with Mr. Cole!"

Adam Cole answered the door himself and ushered the three men into his study where they made themselves comfortable in overstuffed leather chairs while he poured each of them a glass of whiskey.

"So what did you think of Red?" he asked as he sat himself behind his desk.

Heyes pursed his lips and said, "He seems like he might have potential, though he may be all flash and fumble when it's time t'perform."

Cole nodded his agreement. "Very true, but that's the gamble anyone takes when going for an unproven stud. Are you and Mr. Jones gambling men, Mr. Smith?"

"We've been known t'play a hand or two of poker," Heyes replied. "And we're willin' t'gamble on this horse if the price is right."

"I couldn't possibly let him go for less than five hundred dollars."

Heyes managed to maintain his poker face at the outrageous price. He quirked an eyebrow and smiled slightly. "I don't have a quarrel with gamblin', but highway robbery's another story! I'll give you two hundred for the colt."

"What were you saying about highway robbery?" Cole exclaimed. "I could easily get three times that amount for him!"

"Sure," the ex-outlaw agreed. "If he sired a good foal, which he hasn't. I'll tell you what I'll do, though - - I'll give you half of that - - three hundred dollars - - final offer."

Cole pretended to think it over, having had that amount in mind anyway, and then nodded briskly. "Done!"

"Oh, and one more thing, Mr. Cole," Heyes interrupted before the rancher could go on.

"Yes?"

"I think you owe Sam here a winter coat since you burned down his cabin with all his things in it!" Heyes demanded boldly.

"I can do better than that - - just a moment, please." Cole stood and strode to the study door, calling down the hallway, "Martha!"

In response to the call, a matronly woman bustled out from the back of the house. "Yes, Mr. Cole?"

"Can you bring me the bag from the back room, please?"

"Of course, right away, sir."

Cole returned to his desk and said, "We can finish up our business while we wait for Martha to come back. I assume you have the cash, Mr. Smith?"

"Yes, I do." Heyes reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a wad of twenty-dollar bills, which he proceeded to count out on the desktop.

"Very good," Cole nodded. "I'll just make you out a bill of sale." As he began to write, the woman, Martha, entered the room lugging a rather large burlap bag. He looked up and gestured for the woman to give it to Sam. "I believe you will find all of your useful belongings from your cabin in that bag, Sam - - I made sure my men removed them before setting it on fire."

Sam had opened the bag and pulled out a very dark blue wool coat and then rummaged among the other things, doing a quick inventory. He looked up with a confused expression. "Why, Mr. Cole? I don't understand."

Cole sighed heavily. "I don't have anything against you personally, Sam. As a matter of fact I'm quite fond of you - - had begun to think of you almost as a son, but then you had to go nuts over the mustangs! Up until the day you quit, I had hoped we'd be able to come to some sort of agreement, a compromise, but that day I realized there had never been any hope for that, nor ever would be. I couldn't have you hanging around here, interfering with my plans, and undermining my authority, so I had to find a way to get rid of you - - without resorting to violence!"

"You call pistol whipping me not resorting to violence?" Sam blurted incredulously.

"I did not authorize that! I was shocked when I heard and Deke was reprimanded severely for it! When Mr. Smith mentioned offering you a job with him and Mr. Jones I was overjoyed, because I really didn't want to bring the heavy hand of the law down on you either! I really am fond of you."

"I really don't know what to say, Mr. Cole," the wrangler said in confusion.

"You don't need to say anything, Sam, just go with my blessing and do as good a job for them as you did for me. This will likely be a good move for you as you will be able to make a name for yourself in the horse world out from under my shadow!" From any lesser man that statement would have seemed boastful, but in Adam Cole's case it was the literal truth and he was not a man for false modesty.

The rancher bent his head to his writing and in a moment handed Heyes a handwritten bill of sale for the young stallion. "I hope he does his bloodline proud," he said.

Heyes tucked the paper away and stuck out his hand, which the rancher grasped firmly. "It's been a pleasure, Mr. Cole, we'll let you know how he proves out."

"Thank you, Mr. Smith, I'd like that."

Hands were shaken all around and then Cole escorted them personally back to the paddock where Sam attached a lead rope to the stallion's halter and led him out. Sam tied the burlap bag to his saddle and the three men mounted their horses. With a quick touch of his hat in salute, Heyes kicked his horse into a trot, then into a canter, followed closely by Curry, with Sam and the newly acquired stud bringing up the rear.

No one made any attempts to stop them and they were soon passing under the ranch's signpost, though it was still some time before they left Cole's land.

They returned to Coleville with enough time to have dinner before the stage arrived. Sam left them after dinner to go see to the care and comfort of the new horse.

"Would you mind stoppin' off at the general store an' droppin' off this list of supplies we need? We'll pick 'em up later." Heyes asked the wrangler.

"Sure, no problem," Sam replied taking the list. "I'll check out what they've got to rig up the pack horse while I'm there."

"Have 'em put whatever you need on our bill."

"Okay."

From the café Heyes and Curry sauntered over to the stage depot. A familiar figure in black sat on the bench outside also waiting for the stage.

"Leavin' so soon, Mr. Mandeville?" Heyes asked.

"A professional gambler's welcome runs out fairly quickly, Sheriff Smith - - even an honest one's!" the gambler replied with a resigned smile.

"I hope your stay in Coleville was a profitable one."

"Fairly so. I'm only sorry you and I were unable to have another chance to play."

"Yeah, I would've enjoyed matchin' wits with you again, too, but duty kept gettin' in the way."

"Yes, I noticed." The gambler looked the sheriff up and down critically. "You seem to have recovered well from the shooting."

"That was nothin' - - just a flesh wound."

"It could have been mortal - - I had seen Mace Chandler in action before - - you got lucky! Doubly so because it was fairly obvious you weren't comfortable in that role as gunfighter."

"I wasn't, but I didn't think it was that obvious!"

"It wasn't to everyone, but a gambler has to be able to read people. Now Sheriff Jones there looks like he would be much more familiar with facing a man off in the street."

Curry's baby face reflected innocent surprise as Heyes laughed. "Who, Thaddeus? Why, he can hardly hit the broadside of a barn! Why he even bothers wearin' a gun is beyond me!"

Clarence's expression was one of clear disbelief, but the billowing trail of dust that indicated the arrival of the stagecoach served as a distraction from a topic neither Heyes nor Curry wanted to pursue with someone as sharp eyed as the gambler.

The stagecoach rolled to a stop amid a flurry of dust, jingling of tack, and snorts of horses. As the driver stepped on the brake, the door swung open and Sheriff Bill Watkins sprang to the ground, immediately turning to give his supportive arm to his wife as she stepped down.

"Welcome back, Bill," Heyes greeted the lawman.

"Joshua! Thaddeus! You didn't need to meet the stage!" boomed the large, older man with a broad smile.

"Oh, but we did, Bill," the younger man replied. "We just had t'be sure you were on it!"

"It hasn't been that bad, has it, boys?"

"You got no idea, Bill!" Curry put in.

"But we don't need t'talk about that right now," Heyes assured him. "I kept a detailed log, an' I'm sure you wanna get your wife home an' settled."

"Oh, I've forgotten my manners! Boys, this is my lovely wife, Priscilla. Priscilla, Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones."

The tiny woman tilted lovely brown eyes up at the two acting sheriffs and smiled gently. "Thank you ever so much for filling in for my husband, Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones."

"If your trip was successful, ma'am, then it was worth it an' our pleasure," Heyes said, smiling charmingly and tipping his hat to her.

"It was most successful, thank you, Mr. Smith. Bill, darling, I really need to stop by the general store before going home, so why don't you drop me there and then you and these gentlemen can discuss business," Mrs. Watkins suggested.

"If you insist, my dear," the large sheriff said indulgently.

"We'll catch up with you in just a minute, Bill," Heyes said and the two acting sheriffs watched as the couple slowly walked away, arm in arm, he leaning his head low towards her so that he could hear what she said. "I'd say that trip did them both good, wouldn't you, Thaddeus?"

"Sure seems so," Curry remarked.

Fresh horses were being hitched to the stagecoach while the driver was tying Clarence Mandeville's bags on the luggage rack. The two sheriffs turned back to the gambler and Heyes held out his hand. "Good luck, Clarence."

"Thank you, Joshua, and I hope we meet again someday," Clarence replied, gripping the proffered hand firmly.

"Anything can happen!"

"All aboard!" the stage driver called.

"Good bye, Mr. Jones," the gambler said with a nod to the blond sheriff.

Curry touched the brim of his hat in salute and as Clarence shut the door, the driver whipped up the horses and soon all that was left was the settling dust.

"I can't believe all that happened in the short time I was gone!" Sheriff Watkins exclaimed after Heyes and Curry had given him an abbreviated report of their tenure as sheriffs. "Coleville is usually such a quiet little town!"

"If I hear that one more time I may just hafta shoot somebody!" Curry growled.

"I wrote everything down, all the details, just in case anything comes up for any reason after we're gone, Bill," Heyes explained.

"That's mighty organized of you, Joshua - - I'm sure I'll find it interesting reading."

"Now I hope you won't take this the wrong way, Bill, but we'd like to get an early start tomorrow - - it's gettin' late in the year an' we'd like t'get home before the snow falls - - so we were wonderin' if perhaps we could collect our pay today."

Sheriff Watkins pulled his watch out of his pocket and snapped it open. "Well, let's see, it's just about five o'clock now, bank'll be closing soon, but if we hurry I suspect we can get Mayor Hoffman to stay on the job long enough to get you boys paid. How long have you been here?"

"Twelve days, not countin' today, Bill," Heyes said wearily.

"We've got to count today since you're still officially on the job, so that's thirteen days at five dollars a day and that makes sixty-five dollars each, correct?"

"That's exactly right."

"Don't seem like much for all you boys've been through!"

"Nobody goes into sheriffin' t'get rich now, do they, Bill?"

"Ain't that the truth!" Sheriff Watkins exclaimed. "Well, if you ain't gonna complain then neither am I! Let's go."

The Honorable Mayor Hoffman was not particularly pleased with holding the bank open to do the paperwork and reopen the safe in order to pay the acting sheriffs, but then he reflected on the incident with Mrs. Cuthbert and the gunfight in the street and decided that after all maybe it would be better to get them out of town quickly.

No one commented on the pittance of the pay and soon they were walking out of the bank - - their sixty-five dollars each tucked carefully away.

"You boys don't mind finishing up the day today, do you?" the sheriff asked on the steps of the bank. "I'll need to take Priscilla home and get her settled."

"Of course not, Bill! We got paid for the whole day, we'll work the whole day!" Heyes assured him.

"Thanks, I appreciate it. She's much improved, but her condition is still delicate!" A slight blush darkened his face under his tan and he struggled to smother a smile.

Heyes and Curry exchanged a puzzled glance, thinking this was rather strange behavior for a man whose wife was sick.

Sheriff Watkins caught the look and the smile could no longer be contained. "I'm sure I can trust you boys' discretion," he began and then in a lower voice said, "Priscilla is in the family way!"

"That's excellent news, Bill! Congratulations!" Heyes exclaimed with a broad grin.

"Congratulations, Bill!" Curry echoed and slapped the sheriff on the shoulder.

"Thanks, boys. We've been married ten years with no children and we'd pretty much given up. It was like a miracle, but then she started having problems and that's when Dr. Milburn told us to go see a specialist in Cheyenne. This may be our only child and we didn't want to take any chances. So, you see, I'm mighty grateful for you two coming out of your way to help."

"Although I can't say it was a complete pleasure, Bill, I am glad we could be of help."

They had, by this time, come to the general store where they parted ways, the sheriff telling them to just leave the office keys at the hotel desk if they were ready to leave before he was there.

Sam was waiting for them in the sheriff's office, a fresh pot of coffee ready. Curry poured himself and Heyes a cup and they sank gratefully into chairs.

"Mr. Jenkins said he'd have your supplies ready by six o'clock," Sam reported.

"That's good. We can haul 'em over to the stable to store for the night, settle up our bill with Otis, an' be ready t'leave at first light."

"Sounds good t'me, Joshua," Curry agreed.

Heyes looked at his partner in disbelief. "Y'mean I won't hafta kick you outta bed in the mornin'?"

"No, you most likely will, but y'won't hear me complainin' about it!"

"I guess you're ready t'leave, Thaddeus!" Heyes snorted.

"Yeah, you can say that again!" the baby-faced sheriff sighed.

By the time they finished another cup of coffee it was going on six o'clock and the three sauntered across the street to the general store. Mr. Jenkins was waiting on another customer, but he pointed to a pile and said, "Those are your supplies. You can check 'em over, make sure everything's what you want."

While Heyes was carefully inventorying the supplies, Jimmy ran in. "Hi, Mr. Smith! Mr. Jones! Mr. Adamson!"

"Hi, Jimmy!" each man greeted the boy.

"Don't you ever walk anywhere, Jimmy?" Curry had to know.

The boy thought this over seriously. "Maybe when I'm goin' to church!" he finally said impishly.

"Oh, well, that's understandable!" the gunslinger nodded.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Sure, Jimmy, as soon as I pay Mr. Jenkins you can help us carry this stuff over t'the livery stable, okay?" Heyes replied.

"Okay!"

The tally for the supplies came to twenty-dollars which he paid out of his sheriff's salary. They then divvied them up between the four of them and carted everything over to the stable. Otis was happy to let them store the supplies in an unused stall. He didn't want to take any money for their horses' board, saying that the town council would take care of it, but Heyes pointed out that that agreement hadn't included Sam's extra horses and the feed they had eaten. The grizzled old man couldn't find an argument for that and finally agreed to accept ten dollars, "but not a penny more!" he insisted.

While this dickering was going on, Jimmy had gone to the new stallion's stall and made fast friends with the colt. He was stroking the silky nose when Heyes came up alongside him. "He's a beauty, Mr. Smith!"

"Yeah, he is that, Jimmy!" the dark eyed sheriff agreed. "We're hopin' he'll sire some good foals for us."

"Oh, I'm sure he will!"

"I'm glad you came by, Jimmy, cuz we'll be leavin' real early tomorrow an' I wanted t'be able t'say good-bye." Heyes said seriously.

The spark of joy left the boy's dark eyes that were so like the older ones looking down at him. "I know you gotta go, Mr. Smith, but that doesn't make it any easier," he said with wisdom beyond his years.

"No, it doesn't, not for me either, but summer'll be here before you know it an' you'll be spendin' it with us!"

"I can't wait! We'll have so much fun!" Excitement brought the sparkle back to his eyes.

"Now this is gonna be a workin' ranch, Jimmy, an' you're gonna hafta pull your weight - - it won't be all fun an' games!" Heyes warned.

"Oh, I won't mind at all, Mr. Smith!"

"You know, Jimmy, I think we know each other well enough that you can call me Joshua - - after all, we're friends, ain't we?"

"You bet, Joshua!"

"An' those two over there are Thaddeus an' Sam - - Sam's the one with the bristle brush growin' outta his lip!" The last was said conspiratorily, but loud enough for the other two to hear.

Sam stroked his rusty moustache affectionately. "You're just jealous, Joshua!"

"I think maybe I'll grow mine back," Curry said, thoughtfully rubbing his upper lip.

"Don't even think about it, Thaddeus!" Heyes warned. "Or so help me I'll shave you while you're sleepin'!"

"When will I be old enough to grow a moustache?" Jimmy wanted to know.

"Not for a good many years, an' never if I get a say in the matter!"

"Honestly, Joshua, I ain't never figured out just what you got against moustaches!" Curry exclaimed.

"I just don't like 'em is all, so let's just drop it!" Heyes knelt down and said to Jimmy, "It's gettin' dark, you'd better be gettin' on home!"

"Okay." The young boy flung his arms around Heyes' neck and said, "'Bye, Joshua!"

Heyes hugged him back fiercely. "'Bye, Jimmy! You mind Miss Davenport now, you hear?"

"Yes, sir!" The boy let go and hugged both Curry and Sam in turn. "'Bye, Thaddeus! 'Bye, Sam!"

"Goodbye, Jimmy," they chorused and without another word the boy dashed away before any of the men could see the tears in his eyes.

Heyes sighed heavily as he got to his feet. "I hate goodbyes!" he grumbled.

"Well, I'm for a couple a pieces of pie an' some coffee!" Curry said, changing the subject.

"You ever think about anythin' else but your stomach, Thaddeus?" Heyes growled, but the smile in his eyes belied the tone.

"Sometimes I'm thirsty."

"That's your stomach, too."

"Sometimes I think about Mary."

"That's cuz she's a good cook, so that's your stomach, too!" Heyes teased.

Curry swung a playful punch at his partner, which Heyes ducked easily, and with spirits much lighter they made their way to the café for pie and coffee and to say their farewells to Sara.

In the darkness before dawn the three men, each leading a string of horses, rode one last time down the main street of Coleville, the clopping of the horses' hooves echoing off the silent buildings. Once they reached the outskirts of the town, they kicked their mounts into a ground-eating canter and soon disappeared into the shadows.

Sheriff Watkins sat at his desk later that day reading the detailed log the dark young acting sheriff had so meticulously kept and shook his head at the series of events that so coincidentally struck his quiet little town in his absence. He sincerely hoped that it had just been a run of bad luck and he could settle back into his peaceful job without worries, other than that of his pregnant wife, and the normal growing pains of a young frontier town.

He opened a drawer to put the log away and spotted two wanted posters lying face down in the drawer. "Now what are these doing in here?" he asked himself curiously. He pulled them out of the drawer and read the names, "Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry?" He read the descriptions and his jaw dropped open. "Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, sheriffs?"

The End

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