Hannibal Heyes' hand paused just before it connected with the solid oak door of the leader's cabin. He could hear Big Jim Santana inside cussing a blue streak and he wasn't about to walk into his new boss' bad mood even if he'd been summoned. He retreated towards one of the old chairs populating the rickety porch, but a creaking floorboard betrayed his presence to the man inside. The door flew open with a bang and Jim peered outside at his youngest gang member. Without a word, he waved Heyes to come in and disappeared. A second later, an angry Wheat Carlson barreled out through the doorway. He pulled up short at the sight of Heyes.
"What are you lookin' at?" snarled the older man. He had no time for pesky kids who didn't know their place.
"Nothing," said Heyes, holding his hands up and wearing a lop-sided grin.
Wheat stomped down the stairs, swearing under his breath and disappeared into the bunkhouse.
"Hannibal, get in here!" ordered Big Jim.
Heyes stepped into the comfortable cabin and shut the door behind him. Santana was pouring himself a whiskey and held the bottle up. "Don't mind if I do," said the young outlaw to the unspoken question. "What are we drinking to?"
"We are drinking to your good fortune my young friend," said Santana. "It seems that I have an opening for a new lieutenant."
Heyes said nothing. He sipped his whiskey and wondered what kind of trouble he would be taking on if he became Big Jim's new right hand. Carlson had been furious just now and Heyes had no desire to go up against the man. Not only did Wheat outweigh him by a good forty pounds or so, Heyes actually liked the annoying man. Take away the boasts and the bluster and there remained a relatively good man with a loyal streak a mile wide.
Santana frowned as he watched Heyes thinking furiously. He'd expected the youngster to jump at the chance and he wasn't sure if he was annoyed or pleased by the consideration. Finally, he said, "Do you want the job or not?"
Heyes grinned, "Oh, I want it, but first I want to know what's gonna happened to Wheat."
"That is none of your business," snapped Jim, slamming his glass down on the scarred table between them.
"I'm afraid it is, Jim. If I'm taking Wheat's job, I need to know how you deal with the men you fire."
The audacity of the boy amused him. Jim smiled at the bright, young man before him. "I doubt I will be firing you, Heyes, but your question is a fair one. He can stay with the gang, but I don't want to have to depend on him. Wheat is a good man in many ways, but his brawn is better than his brain. He was to case the bank of Clifton for our next job. Here is what he brought me." He held out a torn piece of paper and Heyes took it, looking it over carefully. "Tell me what do you see?"
"I see the floor plan of the bank of Clifton, the hours of business, and some notes about the guards; their shifts and positions."
"Is that all?"
Heyes shook his head, "That's all I see, but there's a lot I don't see. I don't see any information about its location in relation to the town and the sheriff's office, the construction of the building, or the population of the town."
"Population?"
Shrugging, Heyes said, "I'd want to know how many men the sheriff could raise for a posse, wouldn't you?"
Santana wasn't about to let on that he hadn't given it any thought; he simply laughed and spit in his palm, then held out his hand. "The job is yours. You get a five percent cut from here on. Deal?"
"Deal," said Heyes, clasping Jim's hand firmly.
"So, Hannibal, together we will make history."
"I hope so, Jim, but first I'd like to make peace with Wheat."
"Do you have a plan to do so?"
"I do, but I'm not sure it's foolproof."
OOOOOOOOOO
Wheat didn't look up as Heyes entered the otherwise empty bunkhouse and crossed to the table he was sitting at. Drawing out a chair and turning it around, Heyes sat down and leaned his crossed arms over the ladder back. "Big Jim wants me to be his new lieutenant. Are we gonna have a problem with that?"
"I don't give a damn what you do."
"Wheat," said Heyes, softly. "You and me are gonna need to work together or one of us is going to end up leaving, or worse, and I don't think that'll be me. Big Jim's kinda pissed at you already."
"Don't you think I know that?! Hell, he just ripped me a new one and I did what he asked. I don't get why he's so mad. I don't understand what Big Jim wants," finished Wheat, more hurt and bewildered, than actually angry.
Jim's a planner, like me. He wants all the details, not just the big ones. Sometimes it's the small ones that matter most.""
"Well, how the hell do I know what he's lookin' for if he don't tell me?" grumbled Wheat.
"That's just it, Wheat. He can't tell you. He doesn't know what he's looking for until he sees it," said Heyes.
"So how am I supposed to know?"
"I can help you with that," said Heyes.
"Why'd you do that? You just got the job, you don't need me."
"Now that's where you're wrong. I do need you. Listen, I need someone who can keep the men in line. They ain't gonna listen to a kid like me, but I see the way they listen to you, Wheat. I need someone to watch my back. I'm just a kid and I know it. Any one of these guys could decide I'm blocking his way to a better life."
"So you want me to be your bodyguard?"
"I'm asking you to partner up with me."
"Partner? Don't you mean work for you?"
"No, I mean we both work as Jim's lieutenants. The boys'll never need to know that he fired you. Jim's giving me five percent."
"Five percent? He only gave me four!" Wheat turned red with anger, "and now I'm only gettin' three like the rest of the gang."
Heyes smiled broadly at the older man. "So with your three and my five, we can each get a four percent cut. That's fair, ain't it?"
It took a moment for Wheat to understand what Heyes was offering. A way to keep his job and save face with the men and still not take a pay cut. He sat back and crossed his arms, snorting. "Huh, you really are a clever hombre, ain't you?"
"So?"
"So we've got a deal," Wheat held out his hand and nearly engulfed Heyes' smaller one in his meaty grip.
"All right. Now all we have to do is go sell it to Big Jim."
"You do the talkin', Heyes. I reckon you can talk the birds outta the trees with that silver tongue of yours."