Perce's Short Membership, an alias smith & jones fanfic

PERCE'S SHORT MEMBERSHIP

by Goldie

The Devil's Hole Gang didn't have a lot of secrets. Not from each other, because the hideout was too small to get away with anything. And not from the people in the nearby town, because the gang was all basically – well – blabbermouths.

Hannibal Heyes loved being the leader of this outlaw gang, but that blabbing was one of the weaknesses he could have done without. That, and their tendency to do Stupid Things without thinking.

Kid Curry was Heyes's cousin, best friend, and right-hand man. The Kid wasn't a blabbermouth and he didn't do Stupid Things. In fact, he had a reputation as being the Fastest Gun In The West. And he didn't get that reputation by killing people, either. That would have been a Stupid Thing. The Kid was so fast that by the time his gun was drawn, the other fellas were still reaching for theirs. This was always good enough to discourage people from drawing against him. Heyes and the Kid were a good team, a great team.

Heyes figured that, besides himself, of course, Kid Curry was the most valuable member of the gang. Heyes was proud of his own talents, too – safe-cracking, sleight-of-hand, lock-picking, robbery-planning, etc. A particular basket of skills that more than adequately prepared him to be the leader of an outlaw gang.

And Heyes was fond of the rest of the gang members, too. A slovenly bunch, to be sure, but all with hearts of gold. Brains of tin, sometimes, but hearts of gold. With the possible exception of Wheat Carlson, they all accepted his leadership role without question and supported any of his ideas. His robbery plans had made them wealthy many times over. And, of course, they had spent the money many times over. But they were happy to depend on Heyes to find them another bank to rob or train to stop.

Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry and their Devil's Hole Gang were well known in that area of Wyoming in 1884. They were akin to modern-day Robin Hoods, robbing only from the rich. (Actually, the similarity to the Robin Hood legend ended there, but the point is that they never victimized the innocent. Innocents never had money.) They were gentleman-robbers with some moral standards. Heyes and the Kid always made sure that the gang lived up to their reputation. And the gang had high respect for both of them.

As you may know, Heyes enjoyed a mostly successful run as head of the Devil's Hole Gang, with the Kid always by his side. You may also know the story of the governor's promise of amnesty and how Heyes and the Kid quit the gang so they could go straight, to impress the governor and earn that amnesty. You probably know a lot of the adventures they shared after quitting the gang. But you don't really know a lot of what happened during the time they spent with the gang. This is the story of one of those – uh – adventures. For years, Wheat and Kyle liked to tell this story, and the Kid, too, but you can bet your last silver dollar that this story never passed Hannibal Heyes's lips.

It all started one spring day when the gang was feeling frisky and some of the boys decided to leave Devil's Hole for a few days and travel into the various towns in the area for some excitement. Three days and nights; that was the rule. Anyone leaving the safety of the Hole was expected to be back three days later. Wheat and some of the boys went north, The Kid and some of the boys went east and Heyes and Kyle went south.

Heyes generally enjoyed Kyle's simple company. Kyle was one of the biggest blabbermouths and their ride in to town was spent with him talking and Heyes listening. Or whatever else Heyes decided to do. Kyle mostly blabbed about Naomi, his favorite "saloon goddess" and his plans for her for the three-day hiatus. Heyes liked Naomi, too, but he figured he'd let Kyle spend the time with her instead of him. Anyone who was talented enough to get Kyle's mind off his mouth and on to other body parts should be allowed the opportunity to do so.

Needless to say, a poker game was in full-swing when they arrived that first night, and they joined it. Even Kyle played. Until he lost most of his money, and then he looked to Naomi for comfort, who provided it and relieved him of the rest of his money, too. Naomi was a true relief-provider. Heyes put a few dollars aside in his pocket for a little Naomi relief later in the week for himself.

But for the time being, Hannibal Heyes was truly enjoying the poker game. That night there were seven players: Heyes, an elderly gentleman to his right, three cowpokes in town after a cattle drive, the local doctor, and a hotshot young cowboy no more than 18 years old to Heyes's left. The game was fast-moving and the stakes were rather high for a saloon. The conversation, although limited of necessity at a poker game, was nonetheless interesting and animated. Heyes was having a wonderful time.

Heyes was a well-seasoned poker player, a high roller with plenty of experience. He played to win – both poker and life in general. He summed up the other players within the first few hands. The only other player with any gumption was the kid to his left. He played recklessly but won more than he lost, and he seemed to be enjoying every hand. A smile was plastered on his face and he called everyone "sir." Heyes found him very likable. The boy seemed to like Heyes, too, doting on his every word and laughing at all of his jokes. Heyes found him outspoken, but, thankfully, amiable.

The game broke up late in the evening, after most of the saloon patrons had left. The poker players stood and stretched. Heyes announced, "I'll be in town tomorrow night, gentlemen, if you'd like a chance to win some of your money back. Just some of it, mind you!" They all laughed, and the gang broke up. Heyes looked for Kyle, but realized he was missing. Naomi was missing, too. Surprise.

"One more drink? On me!" said the kid to Heyes, and they both walked up to the bar. The bartender informed them that it would be the last drink of the evening before closing. That was fine with Heyes, who was tired.

But this teen-aged poker-playing fiend intrigued him. "What's your name, kid?" asked Heyes, realizing he hadn't called anyone by that moniker except Kid Curry for a long time.

"Percival," said the kid with pride. "Percival Jones." He threw back his whiskey in one gulp.

Heyes was impressed with that kind of hard drinking. The kid was acting like a man but he wasn't one yet. "Jones, huh?" said Heyes. "Exactly how old are you, Jones?"

"Eighteen. Nineteen next winter. But I'm as good as any full-growed man around."

Heyes was startled by several things this kid said and did, but as was his character, did not show it. "As good as any man at what?"

"You see these?" Percival Jones held back the flaps of his long coat and revealed not one, but two pearl-handled six-guns, one on each hip and both tied down like a gunfighter's weapons.

Heyes kept his equanimity and commented that the guns were beautiful. "So you know how to use them." This was meant to be a conversation-ender and Heyes began to walk for the door. But behind him he heard, "That I do, old-timer. See you tomorrow night!" Heyes looked back to see the kid smiling brightly at him and winking.

Outside the door, Heyes leaned against the wall for a minute and shook his head. He wondered if he should be fearing for his life. The kid seemed to like him but he also was wild and reckless and had two expensive-looking guns handy. And he seemed to have a high opinion of himself. Heyes wished Kid Curry was there with him. The Kid was capable of quieting down the most animated opponents. Heyes also wished that he could shoot like Kid Curry, but no one could.

Wait a minute – did he say "old-timer?"

Heyes had won over eight hundred dollars in that simple barroom poker game so naturally he returned the next night to clean out the rest of the town. The trail hands had moved on but the doctor was back, along with two of the owners of neighboring ranches. Apparently the word had gotten out that there was a high-roller in town, Heyes thought with pride. Then he realized that he wasn't the only one – Percival had won quite a bit also. Two high-rollers.

Heyes waited to be seated until the other players sat down, hoping to be able to sit away from Percival, but, as luck would have it, the only open seat was again to the right of Percival Jones. Heyes sat and smiled graciously at everyone, and was unnerved when Percival flashed him a huge smile and nudged him in the ribs. Not only was this familiarity inappropriate and unwelcome, but it also implied that Percival and Heyes knew each other beforehand, and that was certainly not the case. Heyes gave the kid a look that put him in his place and lessened his smile.

The game went similarly to the night before, with Heyes taking most of the large pots. Some of the kid's luck had left him, and the rest of the players won almost equally.

One of the ranchers seemed quite agitated at Heyes winning so often. He called Heyes on it once, but of course Heyes wasn't cheating and was able to prove it. However, a little later, the evening ended suddenly when it was discovered by the man to his right that Heyes had a high-ranking card lying in his lap. Heyes denied any knowledge of it, of course, but by now a couple people had their doubts. The rancher who had been agitated earlier now became downright angry. He threatened Heyes, who continued to claim innocence.

The rancher pushed his chair back and stood up. His right hand hung by his side, close to his gun. "We'll settle this now," he said.

Heyes gave him a wide-eyed innocent look. He looked at Percival, who also looked innocent. He looked back at the rancher, who looked anything but innocent. "Let's be reasonable," said Heyes soothingly. He had no intention of getting involved in a gunfight. If he got involved in a gunfight, he would probably get shot, not being the fast-draw that the Kid was. And that would be a Stupid Thing. Not to mention painful. Not for the first time that night, Hannibal Heyes wished Kid Curry was by his side. But he wasn't. Heyes sighed. "Look, it's only a game. I'll take back the stake I came in with and you can have the rest." He pushed most of the money across the table. "Divide it up any way you want. No sense anyone getting killed over a game."

By now everyone was standing. Everyone but the rancher and Heyes had backed away from the table.

The rancher did not back down. There was fire in his eyes. "I'm a good poker player and I don't take this crap from anyone," he said. "Draw."

Heyes sighed. He looked around at everyone and saw no help available. He didn't want to get shot. Stupid Thing. "Look, I'm not going to shoot you," he said, hoping fervently for the best.

"So be it," said the rancher. In a sudden swift deadly move, he reached down for his gun and brought it up, ready to pull the trigger.

At the same time, Heyes realized that he had better draw if he hoped to have any chance at all.

But before Heyes drew or the rancher had the chance to pull the trigger, a shot rang out and the rancher's gun suddenly went flying straight up in the air. While it was still in the air, it was shot again and went flying straight up again. And shot again – and went flying behind the bar, where it smashed into the mirror, which broke loudly into a million pieces. The noise was deafening inside the small building and people went running and some covered their heads and some were shouting. Heyes stood his ground and slowly finished pulling his gun, his eyes wide open, and maybe his mouth, too, trying to figure out what just had happened.

Then he heard the not-yet -completely-changed voice of teen-aged Percival Jones standing next to him. "Remember I told you? I'm as good as any man around and better than most." Heyes turned to see Percival blowing smoke off his guns and twirling them before re-holstering them. "Now do you believe me?"

Heyes was stunned. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words. He did try to talk, though. "Uh. . ."

"Faster than Kid Curry, right?"

"Uh . . . Kid Curry?"

Percival ignored him and turned to the rancher, who was holding his injured right hand. "And you, Mr. Rancher – next time you accuse a friend of mine of cheating, you'd better make sure you know what you're talking about! And you'd better make sure that I'm not around!"

The rancher was going to say something, but thought better of it. He scanned the crowd, saw no friends, and picked up his hat and departed quickly.

Heyes finally came to his senses. He was still stunned, but at least he was able to start thinking again. "Well, thank you, Jones. You saved my life!"

"Oh, it was nothing," said Percival, suddenly calming down and blushing and looking away. "I guess I've been – practicing. It's just – you know – trick shooting."

"But damn good trick shooting." Heyes realized that he wanted to get to know this kid better. The remaining poker players had dispersed, and the rest of the patrons in the saloon were beginning to resume their normal business. Heyes could hear them murmuring about how fast the quick-draw was. The bartender was starting to sweep up the broken glass. "Look, kid – uh, Percival – stick around for a minute, will you?" Heyes swept the remaining money on the table into his hat and made arrangements with the bartender to cover the cost of the broken mirror. Then he returned to Percival Jones, who was patiently waiting for him.

"I'm indebted to you," said Heyes. "I didn't see any way out of that. And I never even had that card, so I have no idea how it got on my lap."

"The main thing is you're still alive," said Percival sincerely.

The two of them left the saloon. They stood outside and Heyes looked at the stars for a moment, while Percival looked expectantly at him. "Can I buy you a drink?" asked Heyes. "I guess you're old enough to drink."

Percival's calm mood changed suddenly. "I'm old enough to drink and do anything any man can do!" He had practically yelled that last bit, but then he calmed down immediately, winked at Heyes, and said softly, "And lots more besides!"

Heyes really didn't know what to make of this kid. He studied him for a minute and tried to fasten on to his gut feelings. In spite of all the warning signs, in spite of everything, Heyes liked the kid. Sure, there were some things that bothered him, like the sudden mood changes, the strange manner of speaking, or the total disregard of danger. But basically Percival seemed like a good kid. He was rushing into manhood a little fast, but . . . well, with that fast draw, he may not live that long, so maybe it wasn't a bad thing. And, oh, that fast draw! Heyes knew Kid Curry was fast, but this guy was almost as fast and just as accurate! Heyes was still stunned over what he had witnessed.

But, after all was said and done, he liked the kid.

"So," said Heyes, "you call yourself my friend, huh?"

Percival Jones looked all around him before speaking. Seeing no one within hearing distance, he responded, "I do, Mr. Heyes."

Oh, no! Now what?! This kid was too much! Heyes's head was spinning but he knew he had to think fast. He bought himself some time with, "My name is Joshua Smith. You can call me Joshua."

"You can call me Perce, Mr. Heyes."

"Just who do you think I am?" Heyes was beginning to feel very threatened. He looked around and saw no one. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad. This kid had just saved his life, and suddenly Heyes saw him as a serious threat.

"I know who you are," whispered Perce. "I asked around. Everybody around here knows the Devil's Hole Gang. Your hideout is up in the hills. Everyone knows where it is. Most people are afraid to go there, but not me."

Heyes reached in his pocket for some money. "Listen, kid . . ."

"Perce."

"Perce. Here's a five-dollar gold piece. Let's call it even. I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not. I'm just a stranger passing through." He put his hand on Perce's shoulder and was rewarded with a big smile. "I'm going over to the hotel and get me a good night's sleep and then I'm moving on in the morning. It was nice to meet you." And then Heyes walked off in the direction of the hotel, hoping, but not really believing, that he was persuasive enough. Behind him, he heard, "Sleep well."

The following morning, Hannibal Heyes left the hotel restaurant after convincing Kyle to leave early with him and then sharing a delicious breakfast with him. He looked up and down the street to make sure that Perce was not in sight. When he felt the coast was clear, he and Kyle paid their bills at the livery stable, mounted up, and rode off in the direction of Devil's Hole. It was a long all-day ride, and Kyle regaled Heyes with stories about how he and Naomi had passed the time, which made Heyes wish he'd stayed that extra night and spent it with Naomi. Then Heyes told Kyle all about Percival and his fast-draw work. "He's the best I've ever seen next to the Kid."

"I heard about this guy, Heyes," said Kyle, slowly, because Kyle said everything slowly. "It's the talk all over town. They say he's as fast as the Kid. Maybe faster. Flashier."

"Well, now, I wouldn't say he's as fast as the Kid. He is flashier, though. Thinks he's a tough guy. He's got a lot of nerve, I'll give him that."

Kyle was chewing something. He suddenly grinned ear to ear. "Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin', Heyes?"

"No, Kyle, that would be scary."

"That Perce Jones might be a good addition to the Devil's Hole Gang?"

"Well, then, looks like I am thinking what you're thinking."

"Well, what do you think?"

"Let me think about it."

When they were only about a mile from the lookout point, the opening to the hideout area, Heyes and Kyle were startled by a rider suddenly bursting from nearby vegetation. Both drew their guns, but the rider was faster and his gun was pointing at them while theirs were still clearing their holsters.

Heyes recognized the rider. Percival Jones, of course. "What are you doing here, Perce?" he asked, sternly.

Perce was grinning from ear to ear. "Thought I'd hitch up with you to get inside the Hole without trouble. You must be Kyle Murtrie. You're famous, too," he said, nodding at Kyle.

Kyle's joy at being recognized by a stranger replaced his suspicion. He grinned, too. "That's right, lucky you are. And who might you be?"

"Percival Jones, future bank robber. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He re-holstered his gun and held out his hand to shake Kyle's.

Heyes wasn't so sure he wanted to re-holster. "Perce, what are you doing? You've got no call to be here."

"I showed you what I could do with a gun, Heyes. I came to join up with the Devil's Hole Gang!" His smile was so wide that it was obvious that he thought that was the greatest idea in the world.

Apparently so did Kyle. "Hey! That's exactly what Heyes and I were talkin' about!"

Heyes rolled his eyes, then shot Kyle a look. That look snuck over to Perce, too. "Perce, I told you who I . . ."

"I know who you are, Heyes," said Perce good-naturedly. "No point in hidin' it. I found you out easy enough. Told you – I know where the Hole is, too. I played poker with you to – to make an introduction. I want to join the gang. I'm good enough to be your top man."

Heyes was scowling, but Kyle was confused. "Heyes here is top man," said Kyle, chewing on something, as always.

"I mean his top man! Kid Curry is over the hill. Heyes, you need young blood protectin' you. I'm just the man you need."

Now Heyes was finally starting to be amused. He put his gun away and allowed a small smile. "What makes you think I need any protecting at all?"

"How about the job you did of protectin' yourself against that rancher?"

Heyes's smile disappeared.

"You're the head of the best outlaw gang around. 'Course you need protectin'. You'd be the brains and I'd be the brawn. I'd be behind you every step of the way, Heyes! Kid Curry can stick around, too, if he wants, but I'd be your right-hand-man. He'd have to know that."

Once again, Heyes's head was spinning. This kid was so brash, so direct and crazy, that Heyes just didn't know how to react. In situations like that, Heyes always trusted his gut feeling. It told him there was something wrong here. But in spite of everything – once again – Heyes found he liked the kid. He turned to Kyle, who looked confused and concerned. Heyes turned back to Perce and said, "Kid Curry is my friend. We're kin. He's my right-hand-man."

Perce's smile never wavered. "All right, I'll be next in line, then. What do you say, Heyes? I've got a lot to offer and you witnessed some of it yourself."

Heyes and Kyle exchanged a lingering look. A lot of non-verbal conversation went on in that look, mostly on Heyes's side, though, because Kyle's brain was usually empty. Finally, Heyes said, "You can meet the gang. They can decide."

So that's how eighteen-year-old Percival Jones found his way into the hideout of the Devil's Hole Gang without encountering any trouble. A very Clever Thing.

Most of the gang members found his outgoing personality endearing. He was funny and talented, and what he lacked in common sense he made up for in intelligence. Wheat Carlson, Heyes's only nemesis, particularly liked Perce, although for some reason that warmth was not returned. Although he was only a teen-ager, Perce gave the impression that he wanted to be treated like a man, and that's how most of the gang viewed him. He was quick to rise to any occasion that called for skill or bravery, and he was always ready with a joke or a story, even though the gang knew he was making up the stories because he wasn't old enough to have actually lived them.

After a couple of days, allowing everyone to get used to the kid, Heyes sent Perce on an errand so he could talk to the rest of the gang without him present. Just as he promised, he asked the members if they felt that Perce would fit in. The overwhelming majority said yes. Kid Curry said no, but most of the men figured that he was jealous of the new kid's desire to take over his position. Heyes had a tendency to agree with the Kid, but he ignored these feelings and allowed the majority vote to rule. Percival Jones was now a member of the Devil's Hole Gang!

When Perce returned that afternoon, Heyes told him the decision. Perce yelled "Hallelujah!" and threw his hat up to the ceiling and shot a hole in it. He danced around the room by himself, yelling and singing and making everyone laugh, and then, although he was not very large, he managed to pick up Heyes and swing him around. He was apparently very strong. This made everyone, including Heyes and the Kid, laugh even more.

A new face was always a welcome addition at the Hole, and Percival Jones was particularly refreshing, with his youth and his outgoing personality and his ever-present smile. He pitched in and did his share of cooking or hunting or anything else Heyes asked him to do. After a couple of days, he cornered Heyes and said, "I think I should have a nickname."

"Like what?"

"A name like Kid Curry."

"That name's already taken," Heyes deadpanned.

"No," said Perce thoughtfully, missing the joke, "I mean a name like Kid Percy. Or Percy the Kid."

Heyes was eating an apple at the time, and momentarily forgot to chew. "Percy the Kid?" he asked, disbelievingly. "You want to be known as Percy the Kid?"

"Yeah. Yeah!" Perce liked the way it sounded coming from Heyes. "Percy the Kid."

"Listen, kid, it's just not dignified. Enough, that is. How about something original like . . . like . . . Perce Jones?"

"Nah, too hard to say. And 'Percival Jones' is too long. And I don't like 'Percy Jones.' That's what they called me at the orphanage before they kicked . . . before I ran away. I like Percy the Kid. What do you say, Heyes? It's my name, after all!"

Well, he had Heyes with that one. Heyes grinned and conceded. Once again, Perce was so excited he picked Heyes up and swung him around. The apple went flying.

As leader of the gang, Hannibal Heyes enjoyed his own cabin. Oftentimes Kid Curry stayed there, too. Although sometimes the Kid slept in the bunkhouse with the rest of the gang. No one argued with The Fastest Gun in the West. Kid Curry could do whatever he wanted.

That particular night, the Kid planned on staying in the leader's cabin. After supper, he and Heyes settled down in front of the fire to talk, the first real chance they'd had to talk alone since returning from their time away.

"What'd you do while you were in town, Kid?" asked Heyes, pouring them each a glass of whiskey.

The Kid leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Saw Diana, Kitty, and, uh, I think her name was Veronica."

Heyes was amused and raised his glass. "Find any time for poker?"

"Believe it or not, plenty. But I ran out of money. Somewhere around Veronica. It was time to come back, anyhow. What about you?"

"Kyle kept the lovely Naomi all to himself. But the poker was hot. I still came back a day early. Kyle came back with me because he ran out of money, too."

"Why'd you come back early?"

"Believe it or not, I was trying to get away from Percival Jones. For a young kid, he's too wild. Did some crazy things in town. Seemed to be trying to impress me. When he saved my life, I felt obligated." He took a drink. "And I don't like feeling obligated."

"Been meaning to talk to you about that. I don't trust him, Heyes."

"I don't either. But damned if I can figure out why not. He seems eager to please, he does anything I ask, he's talented . . . there's just something that doesn't feel right."

"Yeah, there's something strange about him, all right. Well, anyhow, do you have any new plans in the making?"

"Maybe. I've been thinking about that new bank in Sainttown. It's never been robbed. What do you think about that?"

"Not bad. Anything you come up with is fine with me. What kind of safe have they got?"

"You know what they've got – a P & H!"

"Piece of cake! Are you planning on letting the new hotshot in on it?"

Over in the bunkhouse, Percival Jones, a/k/a Kid Percy, was getting more than a little drunk on one of the many bottles of whiskey brought back from town. He played his guitar for the men at a nice clip and they clapped along with his good voice. He was also capable of amusing the men with impersonations of them. He was very good and very funny. None of his impersonations were flattering, but the drunker the men got, the funnier Perce got. The men were having a fine time with their new gang member.

Kyle laughed the hardest of anybody at the impression of himself, which, truth be told, wasn't flattering a bit.

"Now do Kid Curry," Kyle said, wiping his eyes after laughing too hard.

"Gladly," said Perce. He ruffled his hair and scowled. Then he stood woodenly as a gunfighter might do, picking out one of the gang members as if he was going to draw on him. He quickly drew his gun but pretended it got caught in his holster and pretended to shoot a hole in his foot. He hopped around on one foot, howling in fake pain. This brought gales of laughter from everyone. It was a good thing the Kid wasn't in the building!

"Heyes – do Heyes," one of the men appealed between guffaws.

"Oh, no," said Perce, instantly getting serious, "I couldn't do Heyes."

"Whyever not?" asked Kyle, and a couple more of the men, too.

Perce, for the first time, seemed embarrassed. "Because Hannibal Heyes is the finest man I ever met. I couldn't make fun of someone that . . . that perfect!"

Some of the men exchanged glances. Wheat got downright indignant. "Heyes? Perfect?! Bah! I never met anyone more unperfect! Do Heyes!"

Suddenly Perce drew his gun and aimed the barrel right up Wheat's nose. The place got very quiet. "I know what you're up to, Wheat Carlson," said Perce. "You want to take over Hannibal Heyes's job as head of the gang. But you're not fit to lick his boots. I never met a better man in my life! He's smart and he's beautiful and he cares about . . . well, people. And he's going to be caring about me soon! Don't you even think about making fun of him! Or you'll have to answer to me!"

Perce suddenly remembered that there were other people in the room besides Wheat and himself. He waved the gun slowly around, making sure to point it at everyone. "Don't you all agree? Isn't Heyes the best leader ever? Isn't he the finest-looking man you've ever seen?"

"Yeah." "Sure." No one was about to argue with Kid Percy. Crackpot Percy.

Perce seemed satisfied that everyone had quieted down. Apparently that meant they agreed with him. He re-holstered his gun and sat down.

Things had gotten quite still there for a minute, but now the men started talking amongst themselves again. Here seemed to be a man who liked men! Really liked men a lot! No one had actually ever encountered a man who preferred men to women, and they were becoming a bit nervous. They all moved to the other side of the room. A couple of the guys pulled their coats tighter around themselves. Several guns were removed from their holsters and checked for bullets. Perce remained where he was, in the chair, oblivious to them. He was thinking. After a bit, Wheat and Kyle ventured over to talk with him.

"You know, Perce," said Kyle slowly, even though he thought he was talking quickly, "Heyes isn't really like . . . like that! I think you might just be barkin' up the wrong tree here."

Wheat shushed him. "Now you hush up, Kyle. You don't know that!"

Kyle looked at Wheat in complete confusion. ""Yeah, I . . ."

"You don't know for sure! Did Heyes ever tell you what he . . . what he . . . liked?"

Kyle scratched his head and thought. "Well, no, but . . . what about Naomi? And Janice? And . . ."

"That's what you call circumcisional evidence, Kyle. It don't mean nothing."

"It don't?" Kyle was utterly confused by now.

"'Course not. Why, that kind of thing can't even be used in courts. And you just might be . . . disenchantin' . . . our new friend here." Wheat put his arm around Perce, who was totally interested.

"Yeah," said Perce. "Don't disenchant me!"

Kyle looked down at the floor, studying it carefully for answers, but none presented themselves. He kept looking, though, in true Kyle fashion.

"Now, Perce," continued Wheat in a soothing voice, "I think you should tell Heyes exactly how you feel about him. Have you told him how you feel yet?"

"No," said Perce, fairly breathing, ecstatic that someone was giving him hope. Even Wheat. "You think I should?"

"'Course I do. How else is Heyes gonna know he has a secret admirer?"

"When . . .?" Perce couldn't finish his sentence because Kyle suddenly raised his head and yelled "Hah!", finally having figured out what Wheat was doing, thanks to the floor. He walked away so as to keep Perce from seeing the big grin on his face.

"Wait a minute!" Perce was suddenly suspicious. "How come you're trying to help me here, Wheat? I know you want to take over Heyes's place as leader. Why're you on my side?"

Wheat put his arm back around Perce's shoulders. "No, you're wrong about that, my new young friend. I just want our beloved leader to be happy. The happier our leader is, the better the robbery plans, and the better the robbery plans, the more money for me. And you. And everyone."

"Huh!" Perce was still suspicious, but at least he was listening again. "So what is it you think?"

"Well, you need some time . . . alone . . . with Heyes. You need time to get to . . . know him. To really know him! I think you need some of that . . .connubial bliss. Without the connubia." Wheat had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but it was sounding mighty good anyhow. "But see," here Wheat rubbed his chin as if he were troubled. "Kid Curry is always at his side. That might be a problem for you."

"Do you mean you think Heyes and the Kid . . .?"

On the other side of the room, Kyle hooted loudly. Wheat ignored him. "Well, now, I'm not saying they do, and I'm not saying they don't. I'm just saying the Kid is always around."

"Will you help me get rid of him?" asked Perce earnestly.

This startled Wheat. "What do you mean?"

"Send him away for a few days. Anywhere."

Wheat thoughtfully rubbed his chin again. "That ain't likely to happen, him bein' at Heyes's side all the time. Tell you what, son. Me and the boys'll get the Kid in a poker game and keep him away from the leader cabin, openin' up the way for you."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Sure thing!" Wheat slapped him on the back. "I'll never be one to stand in the way of true love!"

"When? How about tomorrow night?"

"Sure! Tomorrow night. That way you'll get the chance to have a 'moment of joy' with . . . with Heyes." Wheat didn't think he'd be able to keep this up much longer without laughing. Although he was mighty proud of himself for managing it so far.

"Deal!" Perce extended his hand for Wheat to shake.

"All right," said Wheat, after shaking the kid's hand and then wiping his own on his pants. "It's the least I can do. Now you best get some sleep so's you can rest up for tomorrow night."

Wheat was only mildly surprised to find that Kid Percy did just that. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The boys knew he was dreaming of his beloved. That night the men took turns standing guard. In the bunkhouse.

The next day, everyone noticed that Heyes didn't venture much out of the leader cabin. He was writing with pen on paper, beginning to plan the Sainttown bank robbery. That was Heyes's special agenda for the day. When Heyes worked on job plans, Kid Curry made sure to stay in the area in case Heyes wanted to try out any ideas on him. The men saw the Kid popping in and out of the cabin all day. Wheat caught up with him at one point and asked him to join the men in a poker game after supper in the bunkhouse that night. The Kid said yes, and then popped back into the leader cabin to borrow some money from Heyes.

Kid Percy kept a low profile all day, blissfully unaware that most of the men were steering clear of him. His nighttime agenda was the only thing in his mind. The smile he always had on his face was even bigger that day, and all the men were amused by it, but not to his face, of course. A lot of whispering and outlaw giggling was going on. Kid Percy's nighttime agenda was the only thing on their minds, too.

At supper that night, it was remarked upon that Kid Percy hardly ate anything. He denied it, though. Right after the meal, the table was cleared for the poker game to begin. Everyone put some money in front of them except Kid Percy.

"Ain't you got any money?" asked one of the men.

"Huh?" said Percy. "Oh, yeah, yeah." And he went to his jacket to fetch some cash.

"You seem a mite nervous," said Wheat, pretending concern. "Now, don't be nervous."

"No, not nervous! Not at all! Not at all!" said Perce nervously.

"You got nothin' to worry about!" consoled Wheat, slapping Perce on the back, and then wiping his hand on his trousers. "You'll see. Heyes has an open mind! Just show him how you feel. That's all you got to do – just show him how you feel." Wheat winked at him. Perce smiled weakly. As the hour approached, he was getting cold feet.

The game commenced. Kid Curry entered the bunkhouse shortly and joined the game. The men played fervent poker for a while. A few of them were hoping no one suggested the format switch to strip poker. Even though no one had ever suggested it before.

Right after it got dark, someone asked Kid Curry how Heyes's new plans were coming along. The Kid answered, "Things aren't working out as easy as he wanted, I guess. He's still trying to work out the bugs."

"Maybe he could use a pleasant distraction," said Wheat, enunciating the last words and looking right at Perce.

"Well, I guess I'll take a walk," said Percival Jones very nervously, rising slowly from the table.

The game stopped and everyone held their breath as Perce nervously grabbed his jacket and his guitar and left.

"Wheat! I said I call you!" said the Kid loudly, pointing to his cards.

"Call me later!" said Wheat and he and every other man in the place jumped up and grabbed their jackets and ran to the door.

"What's going on?" asked the Kid, innocently enough.

Wheat was shushing everyone until there was no more talking. He opened the door slightly until he could see out. He saw Kid Percy knocking on the door of the leader's cabin, after hesitating a moment outside. He saw Kid Percy enter the leader's cabin. Then Wheat said, "All right, he's in. Let's go." All the men rushed past him in a hurry, but he couldn't move because Kid Curry had grabbed him by the collar.

"What's going on, Wheat?" asked the Kid.

"Let go, Kid, we've got a mite bit of fun comin' up. Let me go."

"Not until you fill me in on what's going on, Wheat." The Kid maintained his tight hold.

Wheat sighed. "All right, reckon you might as well know. The boys are goin' to have some fun at the expense of the new kid here. They're goin' to watch through the windows."

This sounded promising. The Kid let go of Wheat. "What kind of fun? Watch what?"

"Kid, this boy isn't really a boy!"

"What?"

"I mean he's a man . . . a man who likes men, not women."

Now some of the strange feelings the Kid had been having about Perce were beginning to be explained. He wasn't happy with what he was hearing but at least it made sense. "All right, Wheat, I get it. But what's to watch?"

Wheat was suddenly very nervous as he realized he was well within shooting range of the Fastest Gun in the West, who also happened to be the best friend of Hannibal Heyes. "Well, well . . ."

"Spit it out, Wheat!"

"Well, this new kid has a crush on Heyes! And he's over there right now, trying to . . . you know!"

"What?!"

Wheat took the opportunity of the Kid's surprise to slip away and join the rest of the men at the two windows of the leader's cabin. He was mighty surprised when, a few seconds later, he felt the Kid's hand on his shoulder pushing him a bit aside for a better view.

And this is what the men saw:

Heyes was sitting at his table concentrating on his drawings. He had a day's growth of stubble on his face, and he was scowling. It was obvious he was tired and in a foul mood.

Irked, Heyes yelled, "Just come in, Kid," to the knock on the door. He looked up, saw Percival Jones, and looked back down at his papers. "Oh, it's you. Didn't the men tell you not to bother me when I'm planning?"

Perce was taken aback only momentarily. His nerve knew no bounds, apparently; at least, that's what Heyes thought. "No," said Perce. He just stood there. He should have figured it out by now, but he was in a world of his own.

"So what do you want?" Heyes asked, disinterestedly.

"Uh . . . uh . . . you'll enjoy this. Hannibal." Slowly Perce positioned his guitar and began to sing a love song. A lovely tune in a lovely voice. Any woman would have appreciated it.

But not Hannibal Heyes. Slowly he raised his disbelieving eyes from his papers. His concentrating power was shattered. He looked at this kid who was serenading him - this male kid, mind you – and his one thought was that

this was the very last thing he wanted to see and hear at that moment. Unfortunately, as it turned out, he was only half right.

Heyes was bewitched. He couldn't move. He kept watching Perce sing to him. Maybe "bewitched" is too strong of a word. Probably "bemused" is more accurate. Or, "offended." Anyhow, Hannibal Heyes's mouth was fixed in a small tight-lipped smile. He seemed frozen in space and time and he was not amused.

Outside, at the two windows, some of the men had to clamp their hands over their mouths to keep from making any noise laughing. One or two were chuckling so hard they had fallen to the ground. Wheat saw Kyle open his mouth to say something but he put his hand over Kyle's mouth before it was too late.

Inside the cabin, Kid Percy had stopped singing and put his guitar down.

"Do you understand what I'm sayin' here, Hannibal?" he asked quietly.

Heyes stared at him, eyes like slits. He was lost. All that came out was, "Why are you calling me by my first name?"

Perce blushed and looked down. When he looked up he made direct eye contact and said, "Because that's what lovers do."

Now Heyes was really lost, sad to say. With all his brain power, the great Hannibal Heyes had pushed the obvious to the back of his mind because it was too . . . well, too painful to consider. "So take your guitar into town, Perce. I'm busy here." He looked back down at his papers and mentally tried hard to dismiss his personal entertainer.

Perce was cowed by the great Hannibal Heyes, but he had come this far. He forced himself to walk over to Heyes and stand directly in front of his desk. "Hannibal Heyes, I want you," his nervous voice was barely above a whisper. "Right here. Right now. I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and I want you. There's nothin' I want more out of life. And I want to be your right-hand-man. And I want Kid Curry out of the gang. And I want you to always think about me whenever you think about lovin' anyone!"

Outside, the laughter was getting almost impossible to squelch, except for Wheat, who felt Kid Curry's hand over his mouth.

And inside the cabin . . . oh! Inside the cabin! Heyes finally got it! He slowly raised his eyes, taking in Perce's feet, then his legs, then his . . . rest of him, which seemed a mite bigger than Heyes remembered. And his eyes kept going upward until they rested on Perce's own eyes, which held what could only be considered adoration in them.

Heyes was not amused. (This last sentence was a complete understatement so it's being repeated.) He slowly stood up until he was standing tall. And tall was (thought Perce) about two feet taller than usual.

He reached across the desk and grabbed Perce by the jacket lapels. Perce took the opportunity to quickly plant a kiss on him.

By this time, Wheat was on the ground.

Heyes was infuriated. He threw the diminutive Kid Percy across the room. Perce, only slightly discouraged, got up quickly and said, "Don't try to fight it, Hannibal."

This was too much! Certainly for Heyes, and also for most of the men, some of whom were by now hanging on to the window sill for support. Heyes reached Perce in two bounds and grabbed him by the lapels again, intent on beating him senseless. There was no kiss this time. Perce just looked at him with the pain of dawning understanding on his face. They stared at each other for a minute. Heyes looked deep into those eyes that he discovered held only treasured feelings for him. Heyes found he could not do what he wanted to do. He had no real anger with this young man. His only emotion was pity – not pity for who Perce was and what he wanted, but pity for him not being able to get what he wanted most out of life. Perce lowered his eyes. Heyes was not to be his, and he knew it at that point. He submitted to whatever Heyes had in store for him, hoping to live through it.

Just then the men outside could no longer control their laughter. Heyes's head jerked up suddenly to the windows and he saw a few faces quickly disappear. He pushed Perce to the side and ran to open the door. "So you all know about this!" Heyes yelled. He wanted to say more, to tell them how angry he was with them, and even with the Kid, who was front and center and laughing as hard as anyone else, but he found he couldn't. He stood there until they had all left, some with their tails between their legs, and some still snickering.

Heyes saw himself as a civilized being. His instincts told him that Kid Percy's kind should be eliminated as a danger to the species. But Heyes did not run on instinct alone. He knew that if he mistreated this young man, that he was no better than a savage and he would never be able to look himself in the mirror again. Heyes saw himself as a thoughtful, caring human being. He lowered his head and then looked back to Perce, who was standing dejectedly exactly where he had been left. Neither spoke for a long time. After a while, Heyes closed the door and said, "Sit down, Perce. Let's talk."

After a few minutes, Perce emerged from the leader's cabin with a grin on his face. There was a glimpse of Heyes in the cabin, still sitting at his table. The men, most of whom had long since returned to the bunkhouse and wiped the tears of laughter from their faces, watched incredulously as Perce entered the bunkhouse, leaving the door wide open. He calmly put his guitar on his bunk and then sat down next to it.

At first, no one spoke. Then curiosity got the best of Kyle, who came over to him and asked, "How are you, Kid?"

Perce grinned up at him. "Fine, Kyle. How about you?"

Kyle shrugged. "Oh, I'm . . . you know . . ."

Everyone was looking at Perce expectantly. You could cut the air with a knife. Finally, Wheat couldn't take the suspense any more and sat down on the bunk next to Perce. Perce's smile widened even more.

"So, Kid," said Wheat, nudging Perce in the shoulder and winking, "how'd it go?"

"All right," answered Kid Percy, nudging him back and smiling even more. "But, you know, Wheat, I didn't hearany bells."

Wheat faked concern. "No bells, huh? I always thought you were supposed to hear bells when you were in love."

"That's what I've been told," said Perce. "But no bells with Heyes. So I'm thinkin' of movin' on." He stood and grabbed his few possessions and stuffed them in his carpetbag. Some of the men started murmuring but he ignored them. He set his guitar next to the carpetbag. He stopped abruptly and looked at Wheat, as if seeing him for the first time. His eyes widened in wonderment and he said, "You know something, Wheat? Maybe I've been looking to sow the wrong field."

"Huh?" Wheat was confused.

"All along I've been thinkin' that it's Heyes I want, but I'm startin' to hear those bells right now!"

"Huh?" Wheat repeated, although he himself was hearing warning bells.

Perce leaned over as close to Wheat as he could get without actually being on the other side of him. "It's you, Wheat! It's you who's ringin' those bells for me!"

Wheat stood suddenly. "What're you talkin' about?! Don't be silly! It's Heyes you're after!" He began to back away as Perce advanced on him. In the background Wheat could hear some of the men begin to talk and he heard some whistles, too. A couple of the outlaws were chanting "Whe – eat!" in sing-songy voices.

Perce lost his smile and made a grab for Wheat, who just managed to slip outside his arms. "Don't fight it, Wheat, you know you want me! And now you know I want you, too!"

"You're crazy! You're just crazy!" Wheat backed away so quickly he backed over a chair and fell down. As Perce reached down to help him up, he stumbled to his feet himself so quickly that he fell over the table to the far side. He jumped up again and kept telling Perce in no uncertain terms that he had lost his mind. As Wheat backed quickly around the room just ahead of his advancing admirer, the men got out of his way. They were thoroughly enjoying the evening's newest entertainment.

"Don't fight it," said Perce soothingly.

"You leave me alone, you . . . you . . ." Unfortunately, at that moment Wheat felt himself back up against a wall. "Ohhhhh," he moaned. Before he had a chance to move, Percival Jones grabbed him with both hands and planted a kiss – hard – right on his lips! A noise that sounded a lot like a muffled scream came from Wheat's throat.

After a moment Perce let him go and shook his head and said, "Guess I was wrong, Wheat. I didn't hear any bells after all!" He ran back over to his bunk and grabbed his guitar and carpetbag with one hand, smiling as broadly as he ever had. "Got one for you too, Kid Curry," he said, and blew a kiss right at the Kid with his free hand. "This one's from Hannibal Heyes, though!"

Then, with the entire Devil's Hole Gang laughing (except for Wheat), he ran out the door, pausing just long enough to exchange winks with Hannibal Heyes, who was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a big smile on his face!

EPILOGUE

So that's the story of the short time that Percival Jones spent as a member of the Devil's Hole Gang and why he left so suddenly, as remembered by men in the Gang. You're lucky you didn't hear this story from Wheat, because he would have left out some important facts. Kid Curry, of course, knew a few more facts than the rest. But, as stated before, Hannibal Heyes was never one to go around telling this story. Nor did anyone ever have the guts to ask him about it, either.

But you are probably more than a little interested in what went on in that cabin in those minutes that Perce and Heyes spent alone together! Maybe even chomping at the bit to know! Well, as it turns out, Kid Curry was told the whole affair (wait a minute – what's another word for 'affair'?) by Heyes later the next night, when they settled in front of the fire again to talk. Heyes had told the Kid his bank robbing plans and the Kid listened politely, and then the Kid asked exactly what he (and we) wanted to know. What the devil happened?

Heyes knew the Kid well, and he knew that if he swore him to secrecy that his word was gold. And, truth be told, he was itching to tell someone so he could get it off his chest. So he blurted out the whole story to the Kid, and, true to his word, the Kid never told anyone else. Until now.

It seems that Heyes shut the door and closed the curtains so he could talk with Perce uninterrupted. By that time, he had figured out that the men had played a trick on someone but he wasn't sure who and he wasn't absolutely sure what the trick was. And he was more than a little confused about Perce's sexual orientation at that point, too. In fact, at that point, the only thing Heyes knew for sure was his own sexual . . . inclinations. And they didn't include any of the gang members, that's for sure.

But here was this kid – yes, male – who had just professed undying love for him! And there was another thought foremost in the outlaw leader's mind - Perce did not belong in the Devil's Hole Gang. Heyes's first priority was the safety of his men, and Perce apparently posed a threat. But probably not the kind of threat you think. Heyes was more concerned for Perce himself, whom he knew would get beat up regularly over this issue. His safety was at stake. Allowing Percival Jones in the gang would be a Stupid Thing.

So Heyes felt terrible. He knew he had already bitterly disappointed this young man, and now he would have to provide him with further troubles. Heyes tried to tell himself that Perce brought on these troubles himself, but he didn't really believe it. After all, Perce couldn't help the kind of people he was attracted to. That didn't make him any less of a human being. And he was a very valuable gunslinging type, too. That certainly would bring the Devil's Hole Gang notoriety – having two famous gunfighters in its membership. And not only that, but Heyes realized he himself had been offered the ultimate compliment by this young man who found him attractive.

Heyes started to smile at that memory, then abruptly frowned when he realized what it implied.

"Sit down!" he said rudely. Perce sat, never taking his eyes off Heyes. Those eyes were deep and liquid and read like the open pages of a book. Perce was in love and Perce was hurting. Heyes sighed and sat down, too. Not too close. "Why me?" asked Heyes.

"Can't explain it," said Perce. "I just know how I felt about you the first time I saw you in that poker game in town. I found out everything I could about you and then the next night I placed that ace on your lap so's I could save you when you were accused of cheating. So I could show you what I had!"

"You planted that card on me! That's . . . that's . . .!" Heyes was becoming angry all over again. He thought again about beating Perce to a pulp but just didn't have the desire to do so. His anger swelled and then lessened again.

"Hannibal . . ." said Perce softly.

"No, it's Heyes," said Heyes. "No one's called me that since my mother. Listen, Perce . . . Damn, this is hard to say! Listen . . . I'm flattered, really flattered, but I . . . I don't love you and I . . . can't love you like you want. Or I don't want to, anyhow. And that's just how it is. You're who you are and I'm who I am and that's how it is. Maybe you're not happy with yourself – I don't know – but I do know I like how I am, and I intend to stay that way. The fact is, you're barkin' up the wrong tree here. Do you understand?"

A small smile came over Perce's lips. "That's just what Kyle said."

"Yeah? Well, bless Kyle for that. At least one of those guys has some sense." Heyes thought about that for a second. He had just put the words 'Kyle' and 'sense' together. It'd been a strange night.

"I meant no harm. Heyes."

Heyes sighed. "I know, Perce, but . . ." He was tempted to put his hands on Perce's shoulders, but refrained. "In this world, people like you aren't . . . well, accepted. You surprised the hell out of me and," he looked toward the window, "apparently the men as well. This is the West, and men and women are dependent on each other and . . . well, I don't mean to give you a lecture. What you need is some understandin'. But not from me, Perce. No comforts from me."

The understanding was already complete. Perce felt the pain of unrequited love and realized that he might feel that a lot in his life. It wasn't all painful. Love itself was beautiful and felt good. It didn't really matter whether or not Heyes returned it to him, he always had his own feelings. He realized with relief that he would take these with him wherever he went in his life. He knew if he could feel this way about Heyes, he had a chance with others as well. Perce started to feel the hope uplift his spirits. And now that the pressure was off, he started to relax a little.

But, still, if he couldn't have Heyes, he didn't want to have to face him every day. That would keep the pain alive, and Percival Jones was much more fond of pleasure than pain. "Heyes, I want to thank you." He thought for a second. "I'm not sure for what except maybe for making me feel this way, I guess. Never felt this way before. But I don't want the hurtin' so I'm going to have to leave the Gang. I'm going to have to move on."

This was a relief! "I was going to suggest that myself, Perce. It's for the better all-around."

Perce looked at the door. "Maybe I should go right away. Don't reckon I really feel like hanging around here much longer."

Heyes knew at that moment that he would always like this young man, no matter what he was like. He softened. The pressure was indeed off. "You'll be fine, Perce. You'll find someone who really cares for you. You'll fit in fine with someone. I believe that." He smiled when he saw Perce light up.

"Thanks, Heyes." Perce continued to look adoringly at Heyes, drinking in the last few moments of the sight before he had to leave forever.

This adulation no longer bothered Heyes, who sat down in his chair, an idea forming itself in his mind. "Before you go, tell me something, Perce."

"What do you want to know?"

"Who put you up to this?"

"Up to this?" Perce was puzzled.

"I mean, up to this." Heyes waved his hand around the room. "Who egged you to come over here and tell me your true feelings? You said it wasn't Kyle, but who?"

"Wheat told me . . ."

"Ah, ha! Wheat! I thought so!"

"You saying he should know better?"

"I'm saying he should know lots better! Will you do me a favor, Perce?"

"Anything!"

"Help me play a little trick on Wheat, just like he did to us, you and me! When you go pick up your things, you can tell him that it isn't really me you want, that it's really him you're interested in!"

This sounded like fun. "I get it! Do to Wheat what I tried with you, right?"

"Will you do it?"

"Anything for you, Heyes. Anything at all."

Heyes rubbed his chin. "And now that I think about it, Kid Curry was laughing mighty hard, too. Will you remember the Kid for me, too?"

"My pleasure, Heyes." Perce walked to the door again. He looked down sadly, suddenly aware that this was really the end of his time with Hannibal Heyes.

"Are you all right, kid?" asked Heyes fondly.

"Yeah. I'm going to be fine!" Perce put his hand on the door handle. "You know, Heyes, you're still the finest man I can ever hope to meet!"

Heyes laughed a little. "And you're one of the finest I ever met," he said, and meant it. Their eyes locked. Perce couldn't help himself. He held out his arms to indicate he wanted to hold Heyes in a good-bye embrace. Heyes held up a hand as if to shield himself and backed away slightly. "No, I . . . don't . . . care to . . ." Before he could say any more, Perce had him in a bear hug. He heard Perce say, "I don't care, either." And he felt Perce kiss him on the side of the head. He also felt himself hugging back. Then he felt Perce break the embrace.

Perce went to the door, a wide smile on his face. "Now watch this!" he said, swaggering across the yard to the bunkhouse.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.