"Would you be hanged if the law gotta hold of yer?"
"The charge is armed robbery. Now that's good for twenty years apiece but it ain't a hanging offence last I heard."
Charlie Uttley + Kid Curry; 'Stagecoach Seven'.
It seems hard to believe that a pair of outlaws as infamous as Curry and Heyes really believed the worst that could befall them was twenty years in the Wyoming State Penitentiary.
It's been said a favourite spectator sport in the Old West was a good old vigilante lynching - that it was considered good sport to hang a man before breakfast.
The habit of dragging an un-convicted man from a cell and stringing him up to die slowly of strangulation had become common practice in the West of the late 19th century. Lynch victims were untried suspects who had been arrested for various crimes. Common offences that could get a man hanged this way were horse stealing, cattle rustling and - of course - armed robbery. Sometimes victims had the benefit of a quick trial, often held in the local saloon where a mob acting as judge, jury and executioner would find the man guilty before stringing him up from a ceiling beam in that same room.
Most victims received no trial at all and since lynchers - or 'stranglers' as they were known - were legally guilty of no crimes, a bored and drunken rabble were easy to incite to a 'necktie party'.
A mob could and would justify a lynching by afterwards advising citizens that the victim had been part of an outlaw group and represented a dire threat to the community.
Dimsdale, a newspaperman at Fort Benton, Montana took it upon himself to justify, glorify and head up lynch mobs that killed 21 men in the town because their guilt was "morally certain" - since vigilante officers used their "intuitive insight" into the victim's characters, and did not need "conclusive evidence In making their judgements" (Dimsdale's own words). In Dimsdale's Montana, the favoured method of establishing guilt was to loop a noose about the neck of the accused man and repeatedly hoist him till he confessed, or gave up the names of other gang members - A trick learned from the first Texas Rangers who dealt with suspected cattle thieves the same way. Indeed, lynching was the law in many western territories, and - as Dimsdale said; There was neither time nor money for "the wearisome proceedings" and "the absolutely frightful" costs of trials. It was therefore, "an absolute necessity that good, law-loving, and order-sustaining men should unite for mutual protection, and for the salvation of the community... swift and terrible retribution is the only preventive of crime."
Little wonder Heyes and the Kid rode so hard to keep ahead of those posses...
This story takes place twelve weeks before the Pilot.
His horse was slowing under him, that much he knew. Hardly surprising, they'd been riding hard - how long? Must've been seven, eight hours. Maybe more. They reigned in as they reached the bluff that stood out above the slick, steep rocks, the horses retching and foaming and fighting for breath from racing up that long incline. And Kid's horse slipping like that - scared them both half to death, thinking his horse'd lose his footing and plunge him down on to the rocks.
Heyes looked at his friend. His face looked drawn in the moonlight (just the way their luck was running, to have a full moon the night a posse came after them) - and not just with fatigue. This posse was a big one, taking turns to pull back to a canter and let the horses rest up some while the others kept after them hard. They'd brought extra horses with them too. Kid and Heyes rode hard to reach the deep forest that shrouded the hills. Once under cover of the trees they'd been able to put a couple hours more distance between themselves and their persecutors. But the soft ground and thick carpet of pine needles left an easy trail and they were still heading straight for them and no sign of slowing. This was one posse they were not going to outrun.
"Heyes?" Kid broke in on his thoughts.
"What?" - His own voice sounded rough, like he'd spent the night in a smoke filled saloon, not sweating on this horse's back, running the poor creature almost to death.
"What're we gonna do?" Heyes left the question hanging as he studied the cluster of men and horses far below. They were making a changeover - the ones who'd been hanging back had moved to catch up, the others slowing down. Still a good three, four hours ride away - but the way he and Kid were feeling, the state their horses were in - it couldn't be much longer before they ran them down.
"Heyes...?"
"I don't know." He couldn't think of anything else to say. "We could double back, that forest's awful dark, they'd never pull our trail out of theirs..."
"They'd know. They're smart. Their tracker's smart. Nothing back there but that same town..."
Luck running true to form - they'd heard the sheriff of Toponas was one Matt Lewis. 'Never heard of him,' Kid'd drawled with a smile. 'Cept it wasn't Lewis. Lewis'd married some rancher's daughter a few weeks back. Seemed the girl didn't want her husband getting shot up by desperados and the rancher'd given him the job of foreman. Sherrif now was Luke Fail. Fail'd been after them with a vengeance ever since the Devil's Hole gang'd stopped a train he was riding just outside of Medicine Bow couple of years back. He'd gone for his gun -feeling it his duty, as a lawman and all - The Kid'd had his gun shot out of his hands before his thumbs touched metal. Wasn't that the Kid'd hurt him at all - why, he'd even apologised. It was the humiliation the man never forgot. He headed up the posse that came after them that day. He never got near, and they lost him two hours later. But word got around that Luke Fail was after Heyes and Curry. That it was personal. And that when he got them - he'd make darn sure they never got away from him again.
"OK. We'll double back..." Heyes said.
"Thought you just said there's no point?"
"Worth a try." He looked at his friend, watching him, desperate for a little Heyes magic, a stroke of genius - a plan. He shrugged, ashamed to be so helpless, so hopeless. If only he weren't so tired. "I can't think of anything else to do."
"We oughta split up."
Heyes looked at him sharply. Kid went on - "Seems the best thing. Might confuse em. Leastways, they'd have to split up themselves, or go after just one of us. We'd each have more of a chance Heyes, and one free can always help the other. Can't do much if we're both in jail."
Heyes could see Kid wanted him to shoot the thought down with a smart remark, throw it off like so much trail dust. He was waiting for his genius partner to come up with something better. Trouble was, the genius partner couldn't. Heyes hung his head. He hated the idea, he knew Kid did too. To be alone, pursued by a posse like this one... the loneliness struck him down to his soul even as he thought of it. But Kid was right. "I know." He said. "Where'd we meet up?"
"Pearl? If one's not there two days from now, the other comes lookin'."
"Pearl it is." The two of them gripped hands, gripped hard.
"Good luck," Heyes whispered after him as the Kid rode off into the forest, doubling back towards Toponas. Heyes tore himself away from the grim thoughts crowding in on him like shadows, turned his exhausted mount north, towards the mountains and Wyoming.
Dawn came up, then the hours passed. Now the sun was high in the sky - he stopped to let his horse blow, looked over from the cover of the trees he was riding through. Could he really have lost them already? He'd watched the posse split as soon as they saw his and Kid's tracks diverge. Now each half following was smaller, there'd be no chance for them to rest their horses as they had before, but even if they'd fallen behind some, they should still be on his trail... Unless their success was solely due to that tracker which must mean the tracker had gone with the posse following Kid.
He spurred his horse back up the slope and on to the road. He had to get to Pearl right away. Maybe Kid'd lost them and was waiting for him? If not, he'd have to find out if he'd been taken, and if so, where he was so he could start planning...
"Hold it right there!"
The voice came from the rocks above - He'd left Fail behind some five hours since - hadn't he? They couldn't have got ahead of him somehow? No, it wasn't possible...
"Get your hands in the air, right up, where I can see em!"
Heyes did as he was told, amazed to see seven strangers walking their horses down the Cliffside.
"Can someone tell me what this is all about?" he asked pleasantly. "Only, a man with only twelve dollars and forty three cents likes to know why he's being bushwhacked..."
"Throw your gun down, by the fingertips!"
Heyes threw the gun down. "Gentlemen, I don't know what this is all about but I can't help but feel someone's making a big mistake..."
"Yeah? Well, that'd be you Heyes, coming back here after so soon after that payroll job. Thought you'd double back huh? You must have a mighty big opinion of the horses in these parts if you thought we'd a been ahead of you by now. I thought you were supposed to be so smart. Tell the truth, I'm a mite disappointed in you."
To say Heyes was confused would the understatement of the nineteenth, or indeed, any other century. Now, he was a great poker player - no point in false modesty, he was one of the best. He knew a thing or two about odds. What were the chances of having lost one of the most tricky and persistent posses he'd ever encountered, only to run right into another one coming from the opposite direction? If luck had been running against them all week, she surely was hitting her stride now.
"Payroll? What payroll? I don't know anything about any payroll." The posse moved slowly down towards him, seven guns trained on him the whole time. The leader - the one wearing a sheriffs badge - kept riding on up to him. He was a tall, dark, large featured man, sharp pointed chin, big hook nose, heavy brows. Heyes was one hundred percent certain he'd never set eyes on him in his life before.
"And I'm not called Heyes. My name's Slattery, Lew Slattery and I'm riding to meet my cousin in Walden. He's marrying a lovely girl, rancher's daughter, I'm the best man and I'm gonna be late..."
Heyes came to his senses lying in the hot, dry road. There was blood in the dirt. It was dripping from his forehead and his head hurt like a dozen scorpions were making a nest in there. Someone had his knee between his shoulder blades, pinning his wrists and elbows tight behind him, binding them with a rope. He could feel consciousness slipping away again as the sheriff got down into the dust, bending down to Heyes' ear, stale cigar breath hot on his face. His voice was soft and threatening.
"I don't make mistakes boy. I know Hannibal Heyes when I see him. You was pointed out to me, long time back. Hooraying the town you was with the Devil's Hole Gang. I wasn't in no position to do nothin' 'bout it back then. But yesterday, a gang, your gang, robbed my town of a twenty-five thousand dollar payroll. I couldn't hardly believe my luck and your gall when I spied you riding back to town, cool as Christmas. Think no one'd recognise you? You're a dang fool. You coulda been clear out the state by now and halfway to Devil's Hole. Instead, you thought you been clever, doublin back like that. Well I'll teach you to be clever with me boy. No one, least of all a known outlaw like you, robs Jacob Baker's town."
Hog tied, bruised from the fall, the blood from the blow to his head still dripping, clouding his eyes, Heyes came to - found himself draped across the pack mule. Baker was issuing the orders:
"Hayden, you keep a good close eye on him, make sure he don't get loose now."
Hayden grinned. "Don't think he's about to be running off anyplace soon Sheriff..."
"Yeah, well don't you take your eyes off of him. He's a wily one. Wouldn't put it past him to rouse up and make a run for it. "Looz, Weaver, I want you at the rear. You keep watch to the back of Hayden, make sure Curry and them Devil's Hole Boys don't try to jump us. And the rest of you too, you keep eyes in the back of your head. His gang may come after us any time. It ain't just for the good and the glory of the town of Columbine, it's ten, maybe twenty thousand dollars to split between us if we get Curry too."
"Hot diggedy!" Billy Hardcastle whooped.
"And cut out that noise boy! You want to bring every outlaw a hidin in them hills down on us?" Billy turned and scanned the rocks around them anxiously as did every other man there. "They might be up there now? Watchin us?" Billy asked.
"Could be," Baker said. "Now you all just keep a good watch till we get this man safely back to town. Then we'll get where that payroll's hid out of him, and have us some fun into the bargain." He turned back to Heyes.
"Now, we're going back to Columbine boy, and you're gonna tell me where you hid that payroll. Then you gonna tell me where I can find your friend Curry. Twenty thousand dollars'll just about set me up nice and easy. Make up for the night's hard riding I just had to do on account of you and your no-good friends. And if you don't feel like talkin', well... Reckon the townsfolk's riled and mean and right in the mood for a good old-fashioned necktie party."
Heyes dark eyes scanned the saloon.
Pretty much like every other bar he'd been in since he was fifteen years old. Beer soaked sawdust on the floor, dirty, smoking kerosene lanterns, tired and over painted bar girls, drunken cowboys. A man with a deputy's badge was getting real drunk on over at the bar, seemed to have his eye on the prettiest girl there. There was lots of gambling - poker mostly - the usual easy to spot cheating and subsequent fighting. Nope, nothing out of the ordinary - except for every eye being turned on him - that he could see clearly from his vantage point up here on top of the blackjack table - and the fact he had a noose tied around his neck that stretched up to the sturdy pine beams that ran the length of the building.
"Yup! Hannibal Heyes hisself ladies and gentlemen. The leader of the gang that took the miners payroll from the bank early this morning." The sheriff was making a speech. Lacked the finer points of the art of oratory - no finesse - but he made a simple point and made it well. He had the man who stole their pay and now he was going to hang him for the entertainment of those who'd been robbed. Hard to fault it for a show stopper. Uncomfortable though, being the main attraction in this particular spectacular. Once again, Heyes' brain was failing him, he couldn't for the life of him see how he was going to get out of this.
"And now, he's gonna tell us, in front of all you witnesses, just where he stashed the loot."
The saloon erupted in hollers and shrieks, "Hang him! hang the bastard!" Someone threw a chair at Heyes head, followed by a barrage of bottles, glasses and beer all flying towards him, Heyes ducking as best he could. "Hold it! Hold it! The sheriff's commanding voice quelled the mob. "Look, we hang him dead here and now, ain't never gonna find that payroll, you thoughta that? But he is gonna tell us where that money is, or by jiminey, he'll be dead by morning."
Heyes looked down at the angry mob, a cold, dark, panicky feeling gripped him - made his heart pound and his vision blur. "So, you gonna tell us where that money's hid? I'm talking to you Heyes!"
Heyes looked down at Sheriff Baker. "I can't tell you where it's hid. I don't know cos I didn't take it..."
Baker and Looz pulled hard together on the rope - not enough force to lift him off the ground, but enough to pull the noose tight around Heyes neck. He couldn't breathe - terror gripped him though he tried his damndest to fight it down and keep a clear head... But he couldn't, and found himself trying to shout, to cry out... No sound. His chest was on fire, he could hear the crowd baying, screaming for blood. His blood. Blood roaring in his ears and their frenzied hullabaloo growing fainter as consciousness slipped away in a sting of involuntary tears and fast encroaching darkness...
Then he was kneeling on the table, listening to his own, desperate retching, sobbing breaths. He felt sick. Wanted to be sick. Sick with fear as he heard the same question from Baker, at his side now, voice insistent and murderous; "Where'd you hide the payroll, Heyes?"
Heyes' voice came thick and hoarse, frantic, scared and barely more than a whisper - "I swear to you, I swear to God I don't know. I didn't steal your payroll..."
With a jerk he thought would pull his head clean off, he found himself raised up and swinging, feet inches from the table, the rope burning around his neck, panic swamping him as he fought for breaths that would not come. He felt again the blood pounding in his ears, darkness pressing down, hysteria rising. He wanted to scream as he swung. Felt death closing in, fighting it, scared and petrified and praying...
He woke, gagging and choking - lying on his back on the table. Someone was drizzling beer in his face. He heard Baker's voice; "don't worry boys. There's more ways to kill a dog than hanging."
Barely conscious, Heyes felt himself pulled from the table and dragged down the street pursued by a baying mob screaming for Baker to 'String him up! C'mon Sheriff, stretch the bastards neck!'
They towed Heyes over to the jail house and tossed him down into a cell, still bound, the noose still about his neck. He heard the front door slammed on the angry rabble still screaming for a lynching.
Baker grabbed him by the hair, lifting his head and speaking so calmly. "Now, I'm gonna ask you again, Heyes, and I'm gonna keep on asking in my own sweet fashion till you either talk to me, or die. Choice is all yours. Now, where's that payroll?"
Heyes tried to speak, but only a croak came out. He swallowed and tried again, but Baker delivered such a blinding blow to his kidneys - Heyes felt his mind suddenly clear. He decided to switch tack.
"Wait!" he yelled as a boot connected hard with his ribs. Screaming out frantically, loud as his tortured throat would bear as Baker pulled his foot back for another kick; "I can't talk if you keep hitting me!"
Baker paused - "OK Let's hear what ya havta say Heyes. And it'd better be what I wanna hear."
"Alright! Alright!" He barely recognised his own voice, it was so harsh and whispered. "The payroll's up in the rocks, the ones where you took me. Yeah, that's right," he smiled, noting the look on Baker's face. "If you'd a got there a mite later, you'd a saved yourself a lot of bother and me a lot of pain."
Heyes pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning against the bunk. Then the rest of the posse arrived with a fat deputy - they had some trouble shutting the door against the drunken, over-excited rabble outside. Heyes' one thought was to keep himself out of the hands of that mob. Baker was a sadist and a bully but that he could deal with. The crowd he could not, and found himself trembling involuntarily as he thought of what they'd do to him if they got in here.
The posse crowded round, leaning up against the bars of his cell, watching him. They want to be around to hear what he had to say about that missing money, Heyes thought. They don't trust Baker.
"I wasn't doubling back to town." Heyes spoke loud as he could, he needed them all to hear. "You surely don't figure me for that much of a fool now, do you? I was going back to the rocks, to get the money. Didn't figure you'd all be so smart, hiding out there, waiting for me to go back. Guess you had me figured out all along huh Baker?"
Baker puffed visibly at this, glaring round at the rest of the posse. "Well you shoulda reckoned on me havin brains, Heyes. Think you're so all fired clever you can outsmart anyone huh? Well you gotta get up pretty early to catch Jake Baker."
"I see that now," Heyes nodded. "Thing is, what we gonna do about it? Now, I don't want you hitting me any moren' you feel you have to and I sure don't ever wanna get hanged again. If you promise not to do either, maybe I can bring myself to tell you exactly where that money's hid..."
"Well you're gonna do that anyway Heyes, cos I sure am gonna beat it out of you if you don't."
"Sheriff, there'll be no need for that cos the cash is behind one of them rocks..."
"Gosh darn it Sheriff, there's about ten million rocks out there..." Billy yelled.
"I was coming to that, if you'll let me."
"Let the man speak Billy," Hayden yelled. "Go on Heyes, we're listening"
Heyes nodded. "There's a big pile of fallen rocks beside the lightening tree, right where you took me."
"I knows it," Baker growled.
"Well," Heyes swallowed. "There in that pile, there's one rock different to all the rest. Big and smooth like a river pebble, stands out real good amongst all them jagged mountain rocks there. Well, that's where she's hid, right there under that stone."
"Hot diggedy!" Billy yelled. "Lets go get her, right now."
Baker nodded. "OK Billy. You go over to the livery, get seven horses ready. Hayden, Weaver - you go give him a hand. Take the side door and make sure no one decides to join us. Townsfolk's mighty sore and fired up over all this. We don't need the extra company."
The two men left for the stables. Baker turned back to Heyes, grabbing him by his bloody throat, making him wince. "As for you, don't be thinking this is the end of it. I still want that partner of yours, and this payroll better be where you're tellin' us, cos if it ain't, your life is going to end real slow. You gonna die by inches boy." He threw him down and, gesturing to the rest of his posse, left Heyes to the tender mercies of the deputy.
Heyes slumped to the ground. He wanted nothing more than to slip gently into sleep. But he couldn't. There was a lot to do if he was to get out of this alive.
The deputy gave him the opening he needed. "I sure hope you was tellin' the truth boy. I seen what Baker can do to a man when he's riled. That man has a mean soul, right enough." The man shook his head and went to pour himself some coffee.
"I don't suppose," Heyes croaked, "there's a chance you could let me have some of that coffee?"
The deputy looked at him, crushed and bloody, hands bound behind his back as he lay breathing soft rasps on the floor of the cell. "Sure, I don't see why not. Man needs his coffee and you sure look like you need it moren' most."
The deputy unlocked the cell. Lifting Heyes up to a sitting position, he held the cup to his mouth. Another deputy, the drunken one Heyes had seen in the saloon walked in, unsteadily, a half drunk bottle of whisky in his hand. "Evenin' Charlie," the fat deputy said as the other slumped down in the sheriff's chair. "Evenin' Bill," he slurred. "Where's Jake?"
"Gone lookin for that payroll." The deputy let Heyes take a little more coffee. "Oh! Fess up did he? Thought he might. Jake sure got rough with the fella. Thought he was gonna kill him for sure."
"Yeah, well, that's Jake's way right enough," the deputy said, looking sadly at the broken man before him. "
"Gets results," Charlie said, taking a swig at the whisky.
"Maybe. And sometimes he kills his man before he gets a talkin. I don't mind tellin you, I don't like it. This ain't no Tombstone nor Dodge City neither. Ain't no need for that kind of brutality in a town like Columbine. And will you lay off of the booze, Charlie. I got a dangerous prisoner to guard here, I need you wide awake and ready for action."
"He don't look too dangerous to me," Charlie said, walking over to take a look at the infamous outlaw.
"Well, he ain't too much neither, tell the truth, state he's in. But his partner's out there, and so's the Devil's Hole Gang and I wouldn't like to have to deal with the likes of them when they see the state of their leader."
"They might think it was us did this to him..." Charlie glanced around nervously, fearing the whole Devil's Hole Gang were about to crash in through the doors and windows.
"You got that right enough. So I need you to stay sober, we need to be ready if they should try to break him out of here."
"Baker wouldn't like that."
"You got that right."
"Do you mind if I make a suggestion?" Heyes said. He was feeling just a little stronger with the sweet, hot coffee inside him. He looked up at them with his best, most winning smile. Bill shook his head.
"I don't think you're in any position to be making suggestions, Heyes."
"No, no, that's true. But that's just it, I'm in a bad situation here fellas, and I don't see that situation improving when Baker gets back here without that payroll."
"Sheesh!" Bill gasped. "You didn't go and lie to him about that now did you? I told you, that man's as ornery as they come. When he gets back here..."
Heyes nodded impatiently; 'No one's more aware than I am that Baker's gonna be real sore at me and I already had a taste of his bad temper. That's why we gotta move fast."
"We?" the deputy's chorused. "Sure! You want that ten thousand dollar reward now, don't you?"
"What you talkin about Heyes?" Charlie snarled, taking another swig from the whisky bottle.
"Well you know there's a $10,000 reward on me, says so on that poster you got on your wall over there..." Both men glanced at the wall.
"I knows what the reward is on you Heyes, but what's that gotta do with us?" Bill asked. "Bakers the one that found you."
"Ah, but, for Baker to claim the reward, he has to come back here to turn me in. Now, when he gets back without that money, I figure he's gonna be real mad. And that reward is payable dead or alive."
"Ain't that the truth!" Charlie laughed.
"Well, I reckon I'd rather not be here when he gets back."
"And what you intend to do about that, Heyes?" Charlie grinned.
"I'm not in any position to do anything about it Charlie, but you are." Heyes cocked his head, and gave the men a twinkling smile. "Now, like I already told you, I'm worth $10,000 dollars. If one of you was to put me on a horse and take me over the state line into Wyoming, not too far to ride, do it in four, five days, but far enough away so's Baker'd never get to hear who turned me in. Well now, you could claim the reward on me and split it between you - assuming you trust each other that it is?"
"Why, Charlie's my cousin," Bill said indignantly, "I'd trust him with anything you care to name." Heyes smiled. "Cousins huh? Well that's nice. I gotta cousin I'm mighty fond of myself."
"But we can't break you out Heyes," Bill went on. "Baker'd kill us. I mean it, he'd shoot us both dead if we was to cross him..."
"Not if Kid Curry were to come get me while Baker's out of town."
"Kid Curry?" Both men glanced nervously over their shoulders.
"Kid ain't coming, he's in Montana..."
"Montana? How'd he get all the way to Montana from here..."
"Because he never was here Bill, no more'n I was. What I told Baker was the truth. We didn't pull that payroll job. I can't tell the sheriff where the money's hid because I didn't take it. "Look, times running on here. Baker's gonna hang me for sure when he gets back, gonna hand me over to that mob out there, after he's finished with me that is. Now, I happen to like you two gents and I'm thinkin you wouldn't want to see old Jake go to work on me again. I'll tell you straight, I don't wanna spend the next twenty years in the Wyoming State Prison, but it sounds a whole lot better to me than a lynching. Now, Charlie, all you gotta do is get to the livery and get two fresh horses saddled up, don't forget to get my saddle. I need my own saddle if I'm to ride all beat up like I am. Do it quick as you can, then get back here and tie up Bill and put him in this cell..."
"Tie me up?" "Sure, you want it to look like the Kid dropped by, right? Charlie'll tie you up and gag you, lock you up. Then him n' me'll ride out. He'll take me into Wyoming, claim the reward, come back here and split it with you. And if you take my advice you'll leave town, make a new life someplace else. Five thousand dollars is a nice little stake, you can get yourself some land. Whatever. Thing is boys, we need to move fast. Baker'll be at those rocks in another two hours, be back here in another three. We can make good time to Laramie by then..."
"Laramie's a long way. Rockwell or Bitter Creek'd be a whole lot closer."
"Bad, hard trails to Rockwell, Charlie. Take us twice as long as that good road to Laramie. You can turn me in at Woods Landing, save us a whole day..."
"He'll follow us," Charlie blurted. "He'll follow our trail, hoping to get you and Curry. And he'll get us, I know Jake. When he finds it's me that's got you..." he shook his head and whistled.
"No Charlie, he won't find us..." Heyes tried to keep down the slight edge of desperation that was creeping into his voice. "I've been riding the outlaw trail in these parts a long time. I know all the hidden paths, all the hiding places. We can outride him if we head north, but I'm in bad shape here, and I'm gonna be tied, I ain't gonna be able to ride fast. If we're gonna make it, we have to go now!" He looked anxiously from one to the other as they talked it over.
"Five thousand's a lot of cash Bill."
"But what if Baker finds out we done it...?"
"He ain't gonna find out," Heyes said smoothly. "I've known a lot of men like Baker. All he's gonna be thinking about is catching up to Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. He ain't gonna be thinking 'bout old Charlie here. If I know Jake, he probably don't even credit you two fellas with the brains to pull a stunt like this. You gonna prove him wrong?" Heyes smiled as the two gave each other a pained and knowing look.
"Charlie, you gonna come back in a few days, trail worn and saddle sore and be a hero. You saw Curry escaping with Heyes and you took off after em. Kept up with them a couple a days, hell, you almost run 'em down, took a couple a shots at em too, but in the end, they lost you. "Bill, you got jumped by Curry - fastest gun in the west, anyone'll believe it when you say he got the drop on you, then Curry tied you up and took off with Heyes. The both of you are gonna be famous, with stories for your grandkids and five thousand dollars into the bargain. Come on fellas? What do you say?"
Ten hours on the trail, and Heyes was beginning to wonder if he'd overestimated himself. He was feeling bad, faint and queasy on top of the searing pain in his throat and chest - Baker must have broken some ribs. He was having trouble staying awake; only thing keeping him on his horse - aside form the ropes binding his wrists and ankles to the animal - was the thought that Baker'd be coming hell-for-leather out of Columbine, minus his payroll, his prisoner gone and out for his blood. He spurred his horse till he came up alongside Charlie. The man was sobering up some now, and probably having second thoughts about the course of action Heyes had made sound so easy.
"Hey Charlie."
The man glowered at him from under his hat. "What you want Heyes?"
"We should think about leaving the trail pretty soon, get up in them rocks."
"Them's look pretty dangerous rocks to be negotiating in the dark."
"There's a hidden trail runs through them and a little cave where we can hide, make camp."
"Make camp! With Baker on our trail? No siree, I gotta get you to Wyoming and I ain't stopping for nothing nor no one till I got you safely behind bars."
"Come on Charlie, you're tired, the animals are tired, I'm in bad shape here, don't know how much longer I can ride, I'm about fit to drop."
"Well you can't drop Heyes, cos you're tied good and tight to your horse. And I'm telling you, that reward, as you yourself pointed out, is the same whether you're dead or alive. Makes no difference to me."
"I was just thinking, in another day or so we're gonna be in Pearl. If Baker's as smart as I think he is, he'll wire ahead to the sheriff there. He'll get a posse out to look for Heyes and Curry. Not to mention, Baker'll be heading out of Columbine about now, on our trail. Charlie, I really think we have to get ourselves up in those rocks."
Charlie looked above at the forbidding cliffs looming over them. "Looks awful hard to climb Heyes..."
"Trust me, I know what I'm doing. And Charlie, you couldn't untie my arms now, could you...?"
"Can't do that Heyes!"
"I'm not armed, my legs are tied, I'm in a bad way here, Charlie. My ribs hurt real bad, I'm about to fall off my horse. It's gonna be awful hard for me to climb tied up like this. And I'm the only one of us that knows the trail. Charlie?"
Charlie sighed, long and deep. He looked hard at Heyes. He seemed helpless right enough, kinda pathetic really, sitting there all bruised and bloody. Baker'd given it him good. He must be built tough just to be settin' a horse, beaten the way he was. "OK Heyes, we'll do it your way. But no camp. Can't risk it with Jake on our tail."
He took out a knife and sliced through the ropes holding Heyes' wrists to his saddle horn. Heyes breathed a sigh of deep relief, and instantly regretted it, the stabbing in his ribs a sharp reminder of why he had to keep well ahead of Baker and his posse. Fortunately, his condition was also a reminder to Charlie of what Baker'd do to him if he caught him.
"Come on!" Heyes urged, spurring his horse up the steep and seemingly impossible rise into the rocks.
The snow, just a threat on the wind down in the valley, became icy reality as they climbed higher. Heyes found himself starting to cough, agonising with his busted ribs and damaged throat. He leaned down over his horse's neck and tried to get some air in his lungs without hurting himself too much.
"You OK?" Charlie asked.
"I'll live," Heyes croaked. He hoped it was true. He was aching badly all over. He was hungry too and exhausted. The long chase from Fail's posse, then the beating he'd taken, the hanging, now this cold, hard ride had almost done for him. He was going to have to make a show of how bad he was soon - trouble was, he wouldn't need to act up half as much as he'd figured. He only hoped he'd be fit enough to carry out the rest of his plan. He reigned in his horse.
"Charlie?" He croaked. Charlie stopped and looked back at him, slumped over, holding hard to his mount.
"What's the matter?"
"I can't go on."
"Whaddya mean? We gotta go on."
"Gotta stop," Heyes gasped. "I mean it, I'm chokin up blood," he coughed a little for emphasis - the pain nearly killed him. "I gotta rest a while."
"And I told you, we can't rest. We gotta press on."
"There's a cave right by here, the one I told you about. Outlaw hideout. It's so cold Charlie, if this weather blows into a storm, we'll both be in big trouble." Heyes looked at the Deputy, a soft, pleading look in his dark eyes. "Even if they're out in this, all this snow, covering our tracks - they'll never follow us. And we need to find shelter, Charlie. I need to find shelter or I'm gonna die."
"I already told you how I feel about that."
"Get us up a small fire, won't be seen outside the cave. We can brew us some hot coffee, I got all the makings in my saddle bags here. Got a bottle of whisky too, leastways, I did have. Maybe Baker took it when he caught me."
"Baker don't drink," Charlie said quickly. "It's one of his little quirks. Says it makes a man soft." He licked his lips, looked around. Snow was whirling down, brushing their cold, chapped faces. He shivered. "A fire and some whisky does sound sweet to me, Heyes. This wouldn't be some trick you're trying to pull now, would it?" Heyes gave a short, weak laugh. "What kind of a trick could I pull out here Deputy? I'm tied to my horse and you're the only one with a gun?"
Charlie nodded. "OK, we'll go to this cave of yours, but you better not try anything Heyes, cos I'm warning you, way I feel now, I'd just as soon shoot you here. Your body'd keep real well in all this snow, long enough for me to get into Wyoming and claim that reward, so you better behave yourself, you hear?"
"I hear you Charlie."
"Well, OK. Let's go - you lead the way."
They holed up in the cave - true to Heyes' word, it was a perfect hideaway. There was a stream running through, 'water for them and the animals. Hay too, put aside by the Gang under Heyes' orders for emergencies just like this one. The feed was a little old and musty, but the hungry horses didn't seem to mind. Charlie soon got a fire going out of the bits and pieces of wood lying around and put a pot of coffee on, but he seemed to be enjoying Heyes' whisky too much to take any himself. Charlie hadn't bothered to tie Heyes back up, he could see the man was in a bad way, and he surely wasn't going anywhere in all this snow. Heyes lay down on his bed. It felt so good to be off that horse, but the night wasn't even half over and - half-dead though he felt - he had to keep himself awake and steel himself for more hard work.
"You think I could have a little of that whisky?" He asked. Reluctantly, Charlie handed over the bottle. Heyes took the tiniest sip - it tasted vile but would help to dull the pain - but he had to keep a clear head, and he needed Charlie to take as much as he possibly could. "Thanks," he smiled. How about some coffee?"
Charlie shrugged. "Help yourself," and went back to the bottle. Heyes had most of the coffee, spooning in lots of sugar - he was gonna need it.
He lay back down and tried to keep awake. He was glad of the rest. The warmth of the fire and the blankets began to get to him. He was hurting so and so weary...
Heyes felt himself lurch, and bit hard on his lips to stay alert. He couldn't let himself sleep. Turning away from Charlie and hunching against the cold, he waited. He hoped it wouldn't be too long. He sure was tired...
There was a crash, Charlie hurling the empty bottle at the cave wall. He was smashed as that bottle, as drunk as Heyes'd hoped he'd be. He went on pretending to sleep until he heard the lawman's loud snoring, then got up - with difficulty. He was so stiff, muscles seizing up too now, after days of punishment.
Feeling his way over to his gear, he removed his little set of wires from his saddlebags then went limping painfully down the passageway he knew ran the length of this old mine they were in. He was blind in the tar black darkness of the cave - but he didn't need to light a match, he'd passed this way many times before. He just had to keep one hand against the wall so he didn't slip or lose his way, until...
He rounded the corner to a thin blade of light from the cloud covered moon as he hit the opening on the other side of the shaft. He looked out over a white landscape. The snow no longer falling, but thick on the ground. The walk was going to be hard and treacherous - normally, he could have reached the bottom in twenty, thirty minutes. But it was going to take far longer than that, way longer than he'd planned - he really was in very poor shape. He only hoped he could do what he had to do and get back again before Charlie slept off the ride and the whisky. And before he fell down and died 'cos that sure was what he felt like doing right enough.
Heyes woke to the sudden, sharp pain of Charlie kicking him right where Baker'd planted his boot the night before. He cried out. "God damn it Charlie!"
"Sorry. I forgot you was hurt. C'mon, it's way past dawn, we gotta get out of here. Jeez! I never meant to sleep this long. Baker'll be right on top of us if we don't move it now."
"You're right. Maybe we should just head into Pearl, can't be moren' six or seven miles down the valley. Maybe it'd be safer if you just turn me in there...?"
"Oh no! You think I'm stupid?" Charlie held his hand to his head. He looked sick and pale and very much the worse for wear. "First place Baker's gonna try..."
"Rewards the same in Pearl as any place else..."
"You sure got a thing about gettin' to Pearl. You planning on something happening round that town, Heyes? You think I don't know you're full of tricks. Well you don't fool this boy. Pearl's barely thirty miles from Columbine. Word gets around quick in these parts. Wouldn't take a day for the news that it was me brought you in to get back to Jake. No siree, we're going on to Wyoming where no one knows me. You get on your feet now, and get tied back on your horse."
"You're going to have to help me. "
Charlie lifted Heyes under his arms and helped him hobble to his horse and mount up - it was quite a struggle, Heyes could barely move he was so stiff and in so much pain. Once he was up, Charlie linked his ankles together under the horse and tied his wrists down to the saddle horn. Heyes watched as the man pulled their gear together and loaded it on the horses, every movement laboured and slow and wincing from what looked like a force nine headache. 'Bet he feels almost as bad as me,' Heyes smiled to himself. Well, it had been very bad whisky. That was mostly the reason why he still had it in his bag - far as he was concerned, it was undrinkable, only fit for dressing wounds, lucky Charlie didn't feel the same way.
The forest stretched down through the valley below, seemed like it went on forever. But Heyes knew they were only 2 miles above Pearl now and he was starting to worry. Then he saw him, a lone figure, big tin star big as a hogs head pinned to his sheepskin coat.
"Mornin'!" the Marshall said, tipping his hat to them with a smile like Arizona sunshine on that grey and bitter day. "Well, you must be the Deputy out of Columbine? Deputy O' Reilly is it?"
"That's me Marshall. How'd you know...?"
"And this must be Hannibal Heyes..." Now Heyes had drawn closer, the lawman could see the state he was in; the dry blood on his forehead, bloodshot eyes - the left eye black and almost closed. And he could tell from the way he sat hunched in the saddle there were other, worse injuries. "What in hell happened to him?" he asked, horrified. "Ain't got nothing to do with me!" Charlie blurted quickly. "It was all down to Sherrif Baker. He's a brute. Oughta lose his job, you ask me." - Hell, he was talking to a US Marshall, Charlie wasn't one to miss a chance of possible promotion - "You tell him Heyes, me an' Bill, we never laid a finger on him, sir."
"That's right Marshall. It was Baker who worked me over. This man and the other Deputy did all they could to help me out." Heyes gave a weak smile. "Even helped get me out of town when they knew the Sheriff was fixin' to hang me over that payroll robbery."
"Oh yeah, the robbery? They got who did that yet?"
"Well, yeah," Charlie said. "We got Heyes here. Rest of the gang got away..."
"Devil's Hole Gang didn't do that job!" the Marshall said.
"They didn't?"
"Well what's what I keep tellin him Marshall, but he just don't listen..."
"You keep quiet Heyes," the Marshall said, a steely look in his blue eyes. "I'm talkin' to the Deputy. No, Mr O' Reilly, I happen to know the Devil's Hole Gang's all bedded down for the winter. As for Curry, Bannerman detectives trailed him down to New Mexico..."
"New Mex..." Charlie turned on Heyes. "I thought you said he was in Montana!"
"He is in Montana!" Heyes glared at the Marshall. "Just shows you can't trust a Bannerman man to do the job right."
"Is that a fact Heyes?" The Marshall said. "Well it don't matter to you nor never mind. You're coming with me to Laramie where you're gonna be spending the next twenty years in jail."
"Going with you?" Charlie yelled. "I thought I was taking him into Wyoming. Gonna collect me the reward! An' you still ain't told me how you knew I was coming."
"Well, wire of course. From..." The Marshall took a telegram out of his pocket. "Deputy Bill O' Reilly - another O' Reilly huh. He a relative of yours?"
"Well if that don't beat all! Don't he trust me to deliver an unarmed man and wounded and all?"
"Maybe he don't trust you as much as you think, Charlie? Maybe he figured you might ride of with the whole ten thousand," Heyes said, poker faced.
"Don't trust me? His own cousin?" "Maybe he thought it was safest," the Marshall added. "I mean, in case you got bushwhacked by Curry and the rest of the gang."
"Maybe so." - Charlie didn't sound convinced. "Well what about ma reward? I've ridden out here, over mountains an' through snow an' all with a notorious outlaw. I ain't going back empty handed..."
"Deputy!" the Marshall said. "That reward's coming to you, but I've been officially given the task of bringing Heyes in. That's an order now and I can't go against it. I am, however, empowered to make a small advance on the reward of one hundred dollars." He took the money from his pocket and handed it over to the Deputy.
"A Hundred dollars huh?" Charlie took the money and counted it. "Well, this don't affect my right to claim the whole reward now does it?"
"Charlie! Of course not. That's just a little thank you from the state of Wyoming for bringing in a prisoner safe and sound. All you have to do to claim the reward is wire the Governor's office..."
"Whoa! Wire the Governor?" Charlie bit his lip, thinking. "Thing is, Marshall, you look like a good man right enough and I do feel I can trust you with the honest truth. You see, Sheriff Baker was after hanging Heyes here, and I don't hold with lynchin' law. So, I took him out of Columbine kinda under the sheriff's nose, if you know what I'm sayin'..."
"I read you Charlie," the Marshall smiled, exchanging a quick glance with the prisoner.
"Now, I sure don't want Baker coming after me and he will if'n' he finds out I double crossed him. So you see, I can't send no wire from Columbine, can't get no reward sent in there neither..."
"Tell you what Charlie," the Marshall said. "I happen to know a coupla people at the Governor's office and I know they're gonna be mighty grateful to you for putting yourself in the way of a whole heap of trouble from the Devil's Hole Gang by turning this prisoner in alive. Law likes to take a prisoner alive, Charlie. Big trial lets folks know crime don't pay. And a dead man don't tell no tales either, if you know what I mean."
Charlie nodded knowingly.
"I'll let the Governor's office know who the reward's due to, if you trust me, that is."
"Well why wouldn't I trust you Marshall?" "And I'll tell them to keep that reward waitin for you at the Bank in Cheyenne. That way, you can go get it anytime you please, or leave it there - bank in Cheyenne's about the safest place to keep ten thousand dollars."
"Unless someone decides to rob it that is," Heyes smiled. Charlie laughed. "Well that won't be you Heyes, that's for certain! You know, Marshall, I reckon I do trust you, but I think I'm gonna head down across the valley and into Pinkhampton. I can wire safe enough from there and that way, I got less chance of bumping into Baker on the way. I kin git down outta this snow too." Charlie shivered. With a hundred dollars in his pocket, a seat by the fire in a cosy saloon was looking awful good to him right now. He stuffed the money deep into his pocket.
"Hey, don't forget to mention Bill in that wire Charlie, Heyes said. "He's splittin the reward with his cousin Bill," Heyes told the Marshall.
"His cousin Bill huh?" the lawman smiled.
"Well, maybe," Charlie said, still irked he wouldn't be getting the glory of riding in with Hannibal Heyes as his prisoner. "I can't believe he wired a Marshall! I thought we trusted each other moren' that. I think I oughta get the lions share of that reward, what with me havin done all the ridin and all."
"Not to mention the constant danger of running into Kid Curry," Heyes said.
"Yeah, and that too. Your partner never showed and that's a shame. Can't say I'm sorry, but it's still a shame. Man oughta be able to rely on a partner."
"Ain't that the truth," Heyes said, hanging his head to hide the grin he could no longer keep off his face.
"Well Charlie, I'm beholden to you," The Marshall held out his hand to Charlie, who shook it. "Guess this is goodbye then, Charlie," Heyes said.
"Yeah, I guess. You know, I'm right sorry what happened to you, Heyes, but a man runs with wolves gotta expect to get bit. Maybe see you again, in twenty years or so," he laughed, tipped his hat to them both and rode off whistling down the trail to Pinkhampton where - he'd heard - they had seven saloons and some of the best Kentucky corn liquor to be found in the Rockies.
Heyes turned to the Kid as they moved up higher into the mountains on to another trail the law didn't know. "New Mexico?"
"How was I to know you'd said I was in Montana?" Kid said, as they reached a bend, out of sight of the trail below. Stopping the horses, he took out a knife and cut the bonds on his partner's wrists and ankles. "You gonna tell me what happened Heyes, you hurt much?"
"I'm OK," he sighed, shifting painfully in the saddle. "I would appreciate a chance to rest up a little, mind."
Kid nodded, understood his partner didn't want to be fussed and mother-henned. But he was worried. "You gonna have to see a doctor soon Heyes. You look bad. Anything broke?"
"Maybe. Coupla ribs or so. I'll be OK, soon as I can get down off this horse." Heyes was grateful his bandanna was hiding the marks around his neck - that was gonna take some explaining and he wasn't ready for that right now.
"Well, there's that little mine up beyond the ridge over yonder. You remember, we hid three days up there after the Walden job? We can light a fire safe enough inside, no one 'cept a pair of guys on the run are gonna try to make that journey this time o' year. Gonna be cold that high up though. Nasty ride too, along that old deer trail. Lot of snow to get through along the way." "How long'd you think it'll take?" Heyes asked, willing his voice to keep going - trying not to sound as weak as he felt.
"Three, maybe four hours. Reckon you're up to it?"
"I stayed in my saddle the last two days, figure I can go another four hours if there's a bed and food and some coffee at the end of it," Heyes smiled.
"We'll stay as long as you need, but I wanna move on to the Hartnell Mine soon as we can, let the Doc get a look at you. That's assuming we don't still have a posse or two to shake off our tail. How'd you manage to get yourself in so much trouble so quick, Heyes?"
"It's a long story."
"It always is with you."
Heyes glared at him, saw the smile and gave him one back. "How about you? Figured the tracker was with your half of Fail's posse, how'd you lose em?"
"Well, doublin' back towards Toponas didn't work..."
Heyes smiled, smugly. "Told you it wouldn't."
"Yeah..." Kid gave him a cynical half smile. "Well, I took em north east, made out I was running for Devil's Hole, intending to switch back towards the forest. Was getting pretty desperate by then, thought I'd never shake em. I just kept riding higher and higher till the weather turned to snow. Any tracks I'd made soon got covered over. I just holed up in the mountains for a day. Near froze to death mind, but I shook em," he shrugged. "Just got lucky is all. Then I made my way down to Pearl, like we arranged. I was getting kinda worried about you when the wire arrived."
"Yeah. If you only knew what it cost me to send that."
"Two cents a word's the usual rate," Kid grinned. "How'd you get away to do that?"
Heyes shrugged. "I'm a genius, remember?"
The snow was thick and deep, lying over slippery and unstable scree. Twice he nearly plunged down the incline which, in his present condition would have meant he'd never have got back up and probably frozen to death on the hillside. Slowly, very slowly, he made his way down the well-remembered trail, cutting across the slope, keeping to the places where trees clung to the rocks, giving him something to hang on to, 'til he reached the bottom where the telegraph wires cut across the wild landscape. But how to get up the pole? Normally he would just have hitched up, but he was in no condition for that. Eventually, he found what he'd been looking for - that low tree, good sturdy branch brushing past one of the poles. 'Oh boy!' he sighed to himself as he contemplated what it was going to take to get up even into the low branches of that gnarled old mountain oak. He leaned his forehead against the trunk and closed his eyes, just for a moment. Whatever made him think he was going to be able to cope with this? But he had to. If he didn't make it, well, then it was all over for both of them. He grabbed at the lowest branch - even lifting his arms up made him cry out. He braced himself, tried again and managed to pull himself up hard - high enough to get a foothold inside a hollow scar on the side of the tree. From there, he could reach to that big old branch reaching out towards the wires.
It was a gosh-awful slow, hard climb. But he made it, and sat a while, clutching his chest while he caught a few painful, rasping breaths. He looked out into the night, and felt a cold stab of panic in his breast, the first pink lights of dawn were already shining along the horizon. It'd taken him all night to get this far? He still had to send the message, get out of this tree and then get back up the slope. He edged painfully along, stopping often to take a breath, rest his busted ribs and bruised insides, his shattered body urging him to lay down and die. But somehow, by sheer force of will and pure natural stubbornness ('wasn't Kid supposed to be the stubborn one?' Heyes smiled to himself. 'Hell, he was supposed to be the clever one and look where he was.') he got just near enough to the cable to reach out, and - connecting the collection of wires he'd taken from his saddle bags to those of the telegraph - begin the slow process of touching the wires together to send a message:
To Sam Barton, Brooks Hotel, Pearl - Urgent! Deputy Charlie O' Reilly heading Pearl with prisoner HH along old DHG trail. Urgent you send The Marshall to intercept BEFORE Pearl. Posse coming your way from Columbine chasing HH, KC for payroll hike. IMPORTANT! - This wire from Deputy Bill O Reilly, Columbine.
When the message was sent, he yanked hard at the wire, sending it crackling, swinging down to the snowy ground. Maybe he was too late - maybe Baker'd already sent the message. But maybe not, and it was best to take no chances. And now - Well, the cave was only a quarter of a mile away. And all uphill. Heyes laughed weakly to himself. Knowing how poorly he felt, he'd figured it'd be hard, he just hadn't thought about how hard. But he had to get back up there, somehow. Baker was heading right for Pearl. He had to keep Kid out of that maniac's hands. His and Kid's freedom - and maybe their lives - depended on him climbing back up that hill. By the time he dragged himself back under the blankets beside the unconscious deputy, he was all but done for, no need for faking, he was well and truly dead to the world when Charlie kicked him awake at nine the next morning.
"Figured, Magpie that you are, you'd still have that Marshall's badge you took on the Browntown job," Heyes grinned. "I see I was right. But I'd be a whole lot happier if you took it off now. It's making me nervous."
"Heyes, I don't understand why you didn't just take the horses and leave when you had the chance?"
"And have two posses still after us? If I'd skipped last night, Charlie'd have walked down the valley, been in town in a few hours, and there'd be a posse outta there on my tail right now. I couldn't have gone into Pearl myself in case word had got there from Columbine. I'd a been on the run all the way to Wyoming, and I ain't in a state to be on the run anywhere."
Kid nodded, understanding - Unless you'd got word into Pearl, I wouldn't have known there was a posse on the way and if Baker knows you, then he probably knows me by sight too. You climbed down that hill, for all the state you were in, not cos you needed me to come rescue you, but because you needed to warn me, and to have me come out to meet you so's you'd know that I was OK. Kid understood, but he wouldn't shame Heyes by letting him know he knew.
"As it is," Heyes rattled on, "Baker's probably on his way out here now with a posse looking for the two of us. He'll run into Charlie, on his way back to Columbine. He'll babble his story 'bout following the two of us. Baker'll follow us best he can but he'll never find us up here, what with the snow and all, covering the entrance to these narrow trails. "If the desk clerk's the kind of man a desk clerk usually is, the Sheriff in Pearl'll have seen that wire by now. He thinks a Marshall's taking me in to Wyoming - till Baker rolls in there and puts em straight, by then it'll be too late.
"Baker's gonna be sore after that cold, hard ride. No payroll, no Curry nor Heyes neither. Charlie can't say anything - he's supposed to have been chasing us, not handing me over to a Marshall. Poor Bill n' Charlie, sitting there waiting for their reward. You know, they saved my life. I wish there was a reward coming to them.
"Whatever else happens, all that confusion'll buy us a few days ride - more than enough to see us out of here and back to the Hole."
"What if I hadn't made it to Pearl? What if I hadn'ta been there to get your message?"
Heyes frowned. "Well, I figured you weren't caught. Kid Curry's capture, that's big news that I reckon woulda made it to Columbine. But maybe not. If you hadn'ta shown, well, I'd've had to give old Charlie the slip. I'd figured on falling off my horse sometime, what with all these snow drifts around to break my fall. Too sick to go on, you know. I'd have thought of something if I thought you were in trouble. But I knew you weren't."
"Uh huh. And how was that?"
"You're too smart to get captured by the likes of Fail and Baker."
"Is that a fact?" Kid grinned. "Well you got caught. I thought you were the smart one, Heyes."
"Well, anyone can have an off day," he smiled.
"I wonder who really took that payroll?" Kid said.
"I don't know. I wish it hada been us. I surely would like to pay back Sheriff Baker and the town of Columbine."
"Well - strange you should say that, Heyes, but when I was biding my time in the saloon in Pearl, I heard tell of another payroll. $50,000, coming along the line into that very town three months from now. That train's already been robbed twice this year so they're bringing in a new safe, real tough one. Say it's impossible to crack." He gave his partner a sideways glance.
"Impossible to crack huh? Fifty thousand dollars, and a new kind of safe...? You know Kid, ain't no such thing as a safe you can't open. Course, the best, the professional way to do it is to do it by working the combination. But you can always find a way to open her with dynamite, or nitro."
"No! No more nitro."
"No, you're right. Have to get there on horseback - too risky carrying nitro over rough ground like this..."
Kid smiled. Heyes was off and away, his brain already working on the new scheme. He'd be OK. They'd find a mining camp to hole up in for a few days - always a doctor there. Between the dangers of mining and the wildness of the life up in those hills, there was always plenty of business for a medical man. After Heyes had had a week or two to rest and heal, they'd press on back to Devil's Hole. Heyes was still thinking the new job through.
"...We'll have to bring dynamite, just in case she really can't be opened. Need to know exactly when she's coming in. Need a good map of this line, find the best place to hit and the quickest way out and into these mountains. Of course, Charlie knows about our cave now. I don't think he'd remember the way but we can't really risk using it again. But Kid - I think we might have ourselves a job."
"Whatever you say Heyes, whatever you say. Just make it a good, quick, clean one this time cos I don't wanna find myself on the wrong end of another posse. I think if that happens, I just might start thinking of getting out of this business."
Heyes tried not to laugh at the serious expression on Kid's face - laughing hurt too much. "Kid, we're the best there is, top of our tree. What else we gonna do?" Then he laughed some, couldn't help it. "Outta this business!"
The End
