Turning Honest

Stumbling out of the saloon's batwing doors, they traded off leaning on each other for support as they made their way towards the hotel, all while singing a local ditty – quite clearly off key. They had just spent the past three weeks preparing a herd of cattle for a drive and with a few extra coins in their pockets, had spent the evening sharing a bottle of rum with a pair of saloon girls. Before they had realized the hour, the saloon was closed and their hopes of a romantic evening had been dashed.

As they stepped across the alley between buildings, Kid's boot connected with an object that quickly danced across the alley way. Stumbling an extra step, they followed the line in the dirt to a leather object that had rested up against the building. With a subtle glance around, they made their way to the item, bent down and picked it up. With another glance for any witnesses, Kid opened the leather wallet, inside were bills – a lot of them. Sobering quickly, Heyes asked, "Is there any identification?"

Kid scanned through the money, "I don't see any."

Looking back at the Sheriff's office, Heyes thought for a moment, "Let's get back to the room, we can decide what to do with it in the morning, after the… uh…" he tried to unsuccessfully place the word, "wears off."

His head started a slow throb as he rolled to his back. Rum didn't always agree with him, especially when taken in the quantities that he had the night before. But at least his stomach was protestin' as much, he was just suffering from the slow drum beat behind his temple.

Opening his eyes just slightly, there was an eerie light on the other side of the room – the lamp had been lit, but only slightly.

Kid sat at across the room, the contents of the wallet in front of him. Each bill sat tightly against the other, hiding the tabletop completely. As Heyes slowly sat, Kid spoke quietly, "One thousand, two hundred and fifty three dollars. I've looked in every pocket and between every bill, I can't find anything that would tell us who this belongs to."

"No one would know." Heyes pulled himself off the bed and walked towards his friend. "We wouldn't have to work for months. Maybe get down to Mexico, with this we could afford to stay out of trouble till the amnesty comes through." He spoke, cautiously.

"We could." He took a deep breath and looked up. "But we aren't, are we?"

"No one saw us."

"We saw us."

"The Governor would never know." He continued to press, attempting to be hopeful.

"We would know." They paused, both staring at the money. "You said this was just till we get the amnesty."

"I know."

"You said we wasn't gonna change who we are."

"I know."

"You said we were still gonna be the same men we were, just without $20,000 on our heads."

"I know. And we still are."

"No, Heyes, we aren't. Six months ago, we would have laughed at the idea of turning this in. We would've pulled a gun on anyone that suggested it. We would'a seen this as a gift from the good Lord above."

"Kid, the good Lord above doesn't give gifts to thieves."

"That's just it, we were thieves then. Now what are we?"

"Well," he tried to think. "We're still liars…"

"Most 'honest' men are liars."

"You're still the fastest gun in the west."

"You know how many lawmen are fast guns?"

"You'd never be a lawman. You're too good for that."

"Isn't that what we've become? How many men have we help the law arrest?"

"I can still talk my way out of anything."

"Oh? When was the last time your silver tongue worked?"

Heyes gave him a quasi-hateful glare. "I just haven't needed it lately. We're still feared across the territory." He was quickly running out of ideas.

"Are we? Heyes, accept it, the worst thing that could happen to us has happened." He stared down at the money once again. "We've turned into one of the 'good' guys. We've," he took a hard swallow before he could continue.

"Kid, don't say it." He interrupted.

"Turned honest."