Hannibal Heyes leaned against the counter in the bank's lobby, trying to appear calm; but his eyes were narrowed a bit in irritation and more than a little boredom. He watched the bank clerk, the one with the nervous fingers and twitchy eyebrow. The little man looked at the note Heyes had passed to him, peering at it first through the tiny round lenses of his spectacles and then, as if he couldn't read the words written there, over the tops of the same glasses, lowering his chinless head for a good look at the note.
"Is there a problem? You can read, can't you?" Heyes asked tightly, forcing a smile to his lips, all the while wishing he could reach through the bars and force the man to hurry up and do what the note requested. It had been a long day and he was tired. All he wanted to do was finish up here at the bank and be on his way. God, he hated banks!
"N-n-no, no problem, Mr. Heyes. I just don't know if I have enough cash here in my drawer to accommodate you. I might need to go back to the vault and replenish my reserves."
"Well, then do it. And would you mind hurrying up? I gotta be on my way." His eyes swept the room, ever watchful of whatever was going on around him. The bank was nearly empty; other than himself, there were only two other customers in the bank, both of them women.
"Yes, yes, of course," the clerk continued nervously. "But I'll need to get Mr. Burton, the bank manager, to open the vault for me. You see, I don't have---"
"Well, DO it then," Heyes said, with enough authority in his voice to assure the clerk that he meant it. "Go on, move," he added, gesturing with a sweeping motion in the general direction of the vault room.
The clerk flinched. Heyes could tell he was a little afraid of him and was sorry for treating him so brusquely but knew the only way he was going to get his business done in the bank was by somehow spurring this little fellow into action. Relenting a bit, he softened his voice and said, "The money, please, Mr…?"
"Phipps."
"Alright then…The money, please, Mr. Phipps?"
Phipps nodded twice, quickly, and set off at a trot across the bank, towards where a distinguished looking man sat behind a large oak desk. Heyes figured the man was Mr. Burton, the bank manager; the person who would be able to finally get him the money he wanted and let him get on his way.
As his eyes followed Mr. Phipps absently, he allowed his mind to wander. He found himself wondering how much longer he'd be able to continue living the way he'd been doing since he arrived in town. Not that he hadn't done well for himself, he had to admit that things had gone pretty well the past few months. He'd been able to put a little money aside, but he couldn't get over feeling like he was missing out on something vital to his existence. He hadn't realized just how much he was going to miss---"
"Don't anybody move! This is a robbery!"
Heyes' thoughts were brought back to the present with a jolt. Lost in his mental ramblings, he hadn't noticed anyone enter the bank. He felt a tingle of excitement course through his body. This was certainly something different than the workaday life he'd been living for the past months.
Still leaning on the teller's window, his back towards the front of the bank, he started to turn around to get a look at the bank robber.
"That's far enough, mister. Stay right where you are." A different voice said, menacingly. It sounded to Heyes like the voice belonged to a young man who was working hard to make himself sound older and more intimidating. Heyes couldn't help but smile slightly. He doubted if the crook was much older than he was himself, maybe a bit younger even.
"Face down on the floor, all of you."
From the corner of his eye, Heyes could see the two women customers. One of them was so frightened she had started to cry softly. Her companion wrapped her arm around her friend's shoulder and whispered something into her ear. The first woman nodded, and biting her lip, managed to stifle her quiet sobs. Heyes watched as the second woman, with maternal caring, helped her to her knees and then both of them lay prone on the floor.
The two bank employees, who had been on their way to the bank vault when the robbers arrived, stopped dead in their tracks at the sound of the first robber's voice. Mr. Phipps stared wild-eyed at the thieves. Heyes thought he heard the nervous little clerk moan "Oh, no. Not again," in a miserable, frightened, high-pitched voice before he dropped jerkily down to the floor, covering the top of his balding head with quivery fingers.
Mr. Burton, the bank manager, didn't even bother to comply, already aware that he would be called into service to open the bank vault, not to retrieve the money needed to complete Mr. Heyes', employee of Green's Mercantile, transaction; but to satisfy the demands of a couple of low-down, thieving crooks. His mouth was set in a grim line; a resigned anger etched in the creases of his face.
"What are you waiting for, mister? I said on the floor."
Heyes knew even without making eye contact with the robbers that this command was meant for him. And not wanting to get himself shot for any amount of money, he complied grudgingly. 'Next time, Mr. Green can do his own banking,' he thought, wryly.
Lying on the floor, his face still turned away from the two bank robbers, he listened to the sounds around him and visualized what was happening. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him and he quietly raised his head to look, keeping the brim of his bowler hat low as not to attract any unwanted attention from the desperate outlaws who held his life in their untrustworthy hands.
From where he lay on the floor, only one robber was in his line of vision. He was still standing near the front of the bank, the lower half of his face covered with a blue bandana, holding his gun at a noticeably unsteady right-angle from his body. Heyes could see a shock of long, dark hair hanging loosely from behind the brim of his worn cowboy hat. Other than that, he couldn't tell much about the man, other than he was as skinny as a licorice whip and looked like he was almost as nervous as Phipps.
Suddenly, the other robber came running into Heyes' sight. He was carrying an old, tapestry carpetbag whose sides were bulging, more than likely from a sizable haul of the bank's money. His face was hidden in a similar fashion as his cohort, only his bandana was red. He wore a tan sheep-skin jacket with a fur lining and a brown hat. He was moving fast and had an easy grace about him, and unlike his partner, he didn't appear in the least nervous. At the first sight of him, Heyes' insides jumped. There was something familiar about the way he moved. In the split second that followed, Heyes tried to convince himself that he was wrong, that what he was thinking couldn't possibly be true; and he would have been able to do it too, if the young man hadn't glanced, unfocussed, in his direction before the pair made their exit, after warning their victims to stay on the floor and not do anything stupid that would get themselves shot.
But in that quick glance, the one that never did quite focus on Heyes directly, all his convincing was for naught. For above the red bandana, Heyes got a glimpse of two of the purest, bluest eyes he had ever seen. He'd only seen eyes like that on one other person and that person was supposed to be back in Horacetown, safe under the tutelage of one of the town's finest families.
So what was he doing here, and what was he doing robbing a bank, for heaven's sake?
Even more worrisome—what was Heyes going to do now to make sure Jed didn't get himself killed trying to escape. Waiting just long enough for the two thieves to clear the doorway, he jumped to his feet. Other than Mr. Burton, everyone else in the bank remained on the ground, in no particular hurry to disobey the robbers' directives. Mr. Burton, on the other hand, was slowly getting to his knees, probably figuring it was his unenviable task as bank manager to alert the sheriff. His heavy movements betrayed an even heavier heart. Heyes knew it wouldn't take much to convince Mr. Burton to let him handle getting the law.
"Everyone, just stay down," he ordered, in a commanding voice. "Nobody try to be a hero. Those men might be waiting right outside the door, ready to gun us all down if we try to follow them. No sense all of us risking our necks. I'll go get the sheriff." And without waiting for anyone to protest, unlikely as it seemed, he ran to the door. After cautiously peeking out into the street, mindful of the very real danger that he could be right about the robbers, even if one of them was Jed, he ran outside. Luckily, he had retrieved his horse from the stable on his way into the bank, planning on heading back to the mercantile and then home after concluding his business for Mr. Green.
Now, out of sight of the people cowering in the bank, he jumped onto his horse's back and headed out of town, following the trail of dust kicked up by Jed's and his accomplice's hasty departure that was only now settling back to earth.
"Stupid fool! What the hell is he thinking?" Heyes rode hard and fast, as he knew the robbers would be doing. He was as angry as he could remember ever being. "He's not thinking, that's what! When I get my hands on him, I'm gonna---"
"I should have never left him on his own. Stupid kid is always getting himself into binds when I'm not there to watch him." Heyes' eyes watered, the wind stinging them as it whipped against his face, anger and frustration spurring him on even faster.
Heyes found himself thinking about the day, nearly nine months ago now, when he took his leave of Jed. It had been a gut-wrenching, sorrowful day for both of them; neither of them wanting to be separated from the other. They had spent nearly every day together since losing their folks and Heyes couldn't remember ever doing anything more difficult than riding away from his friend that gloomy, late autumn day. But, at the time, he felt he hadn't had any other choice. Things had been rough for them since the day they walked away from the Home and when the opportunity for something better came along; something that would give them both a shot at a better future; Heyes grabbed it. He hadn't planned on being away as long as he had been but he always figured Jed would be safe with the Trent family.
Heyes rode, bent low in the saddle, in perfect unity with the animal clenched snugly between his thighs; his thoughts his only companion. The sun dipped lower on the summer horizon. It wouldn't be completely dark for a few hours yet, but shadows had started to creep in between the hills and valleys that swaddled the road he galloped over.
Anger clouding his instincts, he rounded a sharp bend in the road and nearly collided with the object of his pursuit, who, along with his long-haired partner, had stopped running long enough to pull an ambush on the unfortunate soul who had decided to track them down on their escape. Kid and the other man had blocked the road with their horses and were facing Heyes, guns drawn, as he came through a narrow pass between two large boulders on each side of the road. His horse, startled, reared. A lesser rider might have been thrown to the ground, but Heyes held firm, using his knees and his body to maintain his seat.
In the seconds before and after his horse brought all four legs back to earth, he worked to quiet the powerful animal. All his energies were focused on the big beast beneath him. He didn't have time to notice the expression on Jed's face, who was almost as startled as Heyes' horse.
Most of Jed's face was still hidden, robber-like, beneath the bandana, but if his childhood friend hadn't been dealing with the immediate need of calming his horse, he would have seen a firestorm of emotions passing behind his eyes, ranging from shock, fear, anger, and ultimately, embarrassment; all brought about by the simple recognition of his best and most loyal friend.
"What the hell!" Jed shouted, the force of his voice only slightly dampened by the cotton cloth clinging to his mouth. "What in blazes do you think you're doing, Heyes? You're gonna get yourself killed, sneaking up on a fella like that!" He glanced down at the hardware he still held, pointed squarely at his friend's chest. Bile rose unpleasantly in his throat at the realization of just how close he had come to shooting Heyes. He swallowed hard and roughly jammed the gun back into its holster. "Dammit, Heyes!"
"You know this guy, Kid?"
Jed scowled irritably at the other man. His eyes flashed with impatience. "Shut up, Gibby. And put your gun away before you hurt yourself."
Heyes, his horse breathing loudly but finally still beneath him, stared disbelieving at Jed, ignoring the other man. His own eyes were wide with amazement; amazed at Jed's question more than anything else. He laughed; a mirthless laugh that conveyed his own shock and disbelief at what he was hearing and seeing. "What am I doing? What am I doing? You've got to be kidding! I find you robbing a bank and you ask me what I'm doing? Have you lost your marbles, Jed? My God, I can't believe this! I just really can't believe this!" Heyes ran his fingers through his hair. He had lost his bowler hat somewhere between here and town and his dark hair, cut shorter than Jed remembered it, nevertheless was mussed from the hard ride. He took his time getting it back under control, running his fingers through the dark locks a few more times while the other men watched. Jed had the feeling he was using that time to get more than his hair under control; he figured Heyes was working hard to get his entire being under control. His gaze was fastened somewhere far away and although Jed could see the sparks fly and the gears turn behind those dark eyes, Heyes didn't say anything for several long seconds.
Then, after drawing a deep breath, through clenched jaws he started again, his voice low and even. "Maybe we better get out of the open. Let's get off the road a ways and then we can try to talk…try to figure out what's going on. Ok?"
"Were you followed, Heyes?" Kid asked, his eyes serious. He pulled his mouth free of the bandana, giving his lips a moistening lick.
"What?" Heyes replied, confused.
"Followed. Did anyone follow you out of town?"
Understanding dawned across his face. "Oh," he said, his mouth forming a perfect 'o' as he nodded once, slowly. Then his face turned serious. "No. No one followed me. I told the others in the bank I was going for the sheriff. I suppose by now they've figured out I didn't do that. But no one followed me." He was frustrated and worried and angry and his face reflected those emotions. With a gentle dig of his heel, he urged his horse off the trail and into the brush lining the road. "Come on," he said over his shoulder to his boyhood friend turned outlaw.
The two men moved through the underbrush at a slow pace, each of them quiet in their own thoughts. Jed's partner followed a short distance behind. They rode until they were a few hundred yards from the road, concealed from searching eyes by a thicket of scraggly trees. From there, they had a vantage point from which they could keep an eye out for anyone who might be courageous and resourceful enough to have picked up their trail.
Heyes dismounted, feeling suddenly much older than his tender years. He watched Jed carefully as the younger man got off his horse and tied the reins to a nearby tree, taking his time as if to delay the confrontation that he knew was coming. Jed avoided looking directly at him.
"Jed, c'mere," Heyes said quietly but commandingly.
Jed stalled a few seconds longer by taking a long swig of water from his canteen. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he finally turned to face Heyes, his eyes darting up to his face and then away. As a peace offering, he extended his canteen, his eyebrows arched questioningly. Heyes hesitated slightly before reaching out and accepting the gift. He raised the canteen to his lips, never taking his eyes off Jed's face. Quenched, he dropped the canteen to the ground near his feet.
"Jed, what happened?" he asked, his voice revealing the misery he was feeling inside.
"Kid. What's going on?" Gibby demanded. "Who is this guy anyway?"
"Gibby, go away," Jed said, waving him off dismissively. "Why don't you go count how much money we got."
Gibby's eyes flashed angrily, but he didn't argue. "Ok, ok. But we need to get moving. We did just rob a bank, ya know. Townfolk ain't likely to take kindly to that." He grabbed the bag that held the money and wandered off, finally settling himself to rest under a tree a few hundred yards away.
"Jed," Heyes started again. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but why does that guy keep calling you Kid?"
Jed laughed sheepishly. "That's my bank robbin' name. Kid Curry." Sobering, he looked at Heyes, his eyes challenging him to say something.
Heyes frowned, his eyes narrowed, "Your bank robbing name," he repeated slowly. He pursed his lips and nodded slowly, looking off into the distance over Jed's left shoulder, as if he were considering the new information he had just been handed. Anger simmered just below the surface of his emotions and he was struggling hard to keep it from boiling over.
"Yeah, that's right," Jed answered, with as much defiance as he could muster in the face of Heyes' calm demeanor; the one that Jed knew masked deeper, more troubled emotions, "my bank robbin' name."
Heyes' jaw tightened. "Your bank robbin' name!" he repeated again angrily, losing the battle with his emotions. "So now you're a bona fide bank robber! What the hell do you need a bank robbin' name for? Did you come up with that all by yourself, or did your genius friend there help you with that one? Bank robbin' name! What are you doing robbing banks, for God's sake? Have you lost your mind? I left you with the Trents so we could---"
Kid's face darkened a little more with each word out of Heyes' mouth. Soon, his own anger matched Heyes', spark for spark. "That's right, Heyes! You left me! You just up and left me! You always said you were never going to leave me…and then you did."
Heyes dropped his arms to his sides and stood, stunned at Jed's outburst. Most, not all, of the anger he had been feeling slid away from him, replaced by sorrowful memories of walking away from Jed like he did. For the first time since seeing him run past him during the robbery, Heyes took a good look at his young friend. He had seemed hardly more than a boy when they took leave of each other all those months ago. In the interim, Jed had gotten taller and some of what had been baby fat had turned into lean, hard muscle. But the eyes were the same gentle blue he remembered and the blond curls hadn't gone dark. Just like when they were kids, Heyes had a difficult time staying mad at the younger man. He felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips, but managed to maintain his stern, yet stunned expression.
Kid's voice broke off, leaving the air between them suddenly silent. He stared angrily at Heyes, but couldn't find the strength of will that it took to keep his eyes locked on the dark pair glaring back at him. His eyes slid away from Heyes' face. The angry lines in his boyish face melted away, leaving, in their place, a glimpse of the vulnerable child that Heyes remembered; a glimpse that tugged at his heartstrings even while it stirred up some of the lost anger he had been feeling---anger that Jed could do something so stupid, and anger at himself that he had left Jed.
Heyes started to pace, taking a few long strides first one way and then the other, back and forth in front of Jed. As he paced, he rubbed his chin roughly. Before long, he had worked out a plan. "Ok, here's what we'll do. I'll take the money back. People in town like me. I'll just tell them I saw you riding out of town and bushwhacked you and stole the money back. That way there won't be any reason for them to try to follow and arrest you. And you'll go back to Horacetown and the Trents. I'm sure they'll take you back. And then---"
Jed stood watching Heyes, never taking his eyes off his friend's face. His arms hung loosely at his sides. "I ain't going back," he interrupted quietly---so quietly that Heyes didn't hear him at first.
"---after I get enough money together, I'll come get you just like we had planned before. It shouldn't take much longer than---"
Jed stepped in front of Heyes, stopping him in his tracks. "I said I ain't going back," Jed said again, more forcefully this time.
"What?" Heyes asked, not believing what he was hearing. Laying his hands on Jed's shoulders, he said, "Of course you're going back. You made a mistake is all…it's not too late to fix it."
Jed gently pushed Heyes' hand away, stepping backwards a pace, out of reach. "Heyes, I don't wanna fix it. I don't wanna go back."
"Jed, think! We had a plan. We made a decision that I'd come back for you when---"
"What do you mean? We never made a decision. You did it all on your own, Heyes. You never even asked me what I wanted!"
"So is that what this is all about then? Are you just trying to punish me for leaving? Or do you really wanna spend the rest of your life robbing banks, for chrissakes? You—WE ain't crooks!"
"No, I don't wanna spend my life robbing banks and I didn't do this to hurt you either." Jed sighed sadly. "Look, Heyes, I never meant for this to happen. I left Horacetown because I got tired of waiting for you to come back. I left there so I could come find you."
"But how did you think you were---"
"Yeah, I know. You made it as hard as possible for me. Each letter postmarked from a different town…good trick, Heyes."
"It wasn't a trick," Heyes retorted defensively. "I do a lot of traveling for the mercantile. And while I traveled, I had time to write letters. I wasn't trying to hide from you, Jed."
"Oh, yeah? Then why didn't you ever tell me where you were so I could write to you? Why didn't you put a return address on any of those letters?"
"Come on, Jed. When have you ever written a letter? I just didn't want you to feel obligated to write me. The Trents kept me informed on how you were doing and---"
"The Trents knew how to contact you? You told them! But you didn't tell me? I can't believe it!"
"Now, listen, Jed. I told you why. It just made sense. You see that, don't you?"
"No, I don't see that! You had no right to leave me, Heyes."
"Oh, so that makes bank robbing all right, then? I don't know…maybe I was wrong to let you come with me when I left the Home. Maybe you should have stayed there until---"
"No! Heyes, don't you get it? I had to go with you then. And you shoulda let me go with you this time too. It was the only way, don't you see that? We need each other. At least---I thought we did."
Heyes' shoulders sagged. He knew Jed was right. They should never have split up. "Ok, Jed. You're right. You don't have to go back. You can stay with me. I have a decent job now at the mercantile. I'm sure you can find something back in town too. I'll return the money and---"
"I don't think so, Heyes."
"Huh? What's wrong now? No one will recognize you from the robbery. Your face was concealed. So I'll just take the money back and everything will be ok, you'll see."
"What about him?" Jed asked, nodding his head towards Gibby, now seemingly dozing underneath the tree, robbery money having been counted and recounted.
"What about him? We'll just tell him that you've changed your mind and that you're going to give the money back."
Jed laughed, a harsh and bitter sound. "You think Gibby is going to go along with that, Heyes? Uh, uh…I don't think so."
"What choice is he gonna have? We'll just tell him that that's the way it's gonna be."
"It might not be that easy, Heyes. I think there's something you oughta know about Gibby."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Ya see, Gibby ain't quite as mild mannered as he seems."
"He ain't?"
"No, he ain't. As a matter of fact, the first time I ever laid eyes on Gibby, he had just killed a man…in a bar fight. Why, just last week, he beat a fella half to death in another saloon, just for bumping into him and not saying 'excuse me' And that wasn't the first time he's been in a fight since we been together. Probably won't be the last either."
"Oh great! This is the fella you decide to hook up with then?"
"Well, he sort reminded me of you, I guess," Jed answered, his face serious.
"Reminded you of me! How so? You must be kidding me! I never went looking for a fight in my whole life…not that some don't come looking for me, but…" Heyes' voice trailed off as he watched the smile spread slowly across Jed's face. Realizing he was being teased, he chuckled softly. "Ok, ok…you are kidding me. Well, it's good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor now that you're a big bank robber."
"Yeah…but I wasn't kidding about Gibby. He is a dangerous man."
"Hm…Well, I think I can persuade him to see things my way. You'll see, Jed. I'll take care of it and then we can put things back the way they belong."
"Dammit, Heyes! Don't you see? It's not just Gibby. It's me too! I could take care of Gibby myself if I wanted to. Don't you see this gun hanging off my leg? You think it's here just for decoration? You know better than that, Heyes."
"Sure, I know it. I just thought if---"
"It ain't gonna work for me, Heyes! I can't do what you do! I can't just walk into town and get a job like you did. Hell, you know I ain't never been all that good at book learning and the rest of what they tried to teach us at school."
"But, Jed, there's a lot you can do. You don't need all that stuff they tried to force down you in school. Besides, you always were a lot smarter than you gave yourself credit for."
"No, Heyes! You're wrong. The only thing I was ever really good at was handling this gun and that ain't a skill that'd come in useful at any of those stores in town. I know it, and you know it too. I'd end up having to take some ranch job or farm work...and that's just not for me either."
"But robbing banks, Jed…it just don't seem right."
"Right, Heyes? It don't seem right? When was the last time things seemed right in our lives? Huh? When? Things haven't been right since the day they killed our kin. And to tell you the truth, I don't care what's right. If you want to know the truth, all I care about now is finding a way to get by in this world without starving."
"But Jed, there's other ways."
"For you maybe…not for me. I'm not going back. It's time for me to move forward."
"But what about me? What about us? I thought you said you came looking for me? What changed?"
"Nothing changed, Heyes. But when I couldn't find you and the money I had with me started to run out…well, I met Gibby and he convinced me that with his brains and my gun, we'd make great partners."
"His brains? You're kidding me again, right Jed?"
"Well, at the time it seemed to make sense. Didn't take too long for me to realize that what he calls brains is more like an undeserved cockiness. Just between you and me, if brains were spit, he wouldn't be able to lick an envelope closed. But I'm afraid I'm stuck with him for the duration."
"Well, Jed. Seems like there's only one way to solve this whole mess."
"Yeah, I know. I just hope when you go back to town you aren't in trouble for not getting the sheriff after us."
"I don't think that's going to be a problem."
"It isn't?"
"No…because I'm not going back to town."
"You ain't?"
"No, I ain't."
"Then what?"
"I'm going with you."
"Heyes, I don't think Gibby will---"
"It's ok. I'll take care of Gibby."
"He's got a pretty mean temperament, Heyes. Didn't I tell you? I don't think he's gonna go away easy."
Jed watched nervously as Heyes approached Gibby. He knew that Gibby was the sort to shoot first and never bother with the questions later. And Heyes wasn't even wearing a gun. Gibby stood up, eyeing Heyes suspiciously. He could tell that Heyes was speaking even though he was standing with his back toward him because his hands were moving, gesticulating in conjunction with his words. Jed could see Heyes point at the bag on the ground near Gibby's feet. But he had no idea what he was telling Gibby.
Gibby's reaction was not hard to read, though; not even from where Jed stood. His face was chiseled from granite. He slowly and deliberately shook his head in response to whatever Heyes had said. That didn't stop Heyes though. He kept talking, using his hands in his usual calm manner for emphasis.
In an instant, as though a curtain had been drawn back, Gibby's expression changed. The hardness fell away, leaving in its place a look of uncertainty. His eyes were fastened on Heyes' and even though Jed was too far away to hear what was going on, he was close enough to see a glimmer of fear in his normally flinty eyes.
Hurriedly, suddenly eager to leave, he bent over and took a several bundles of cash out of the bag holding the loot from the robbery. And then, with a backward glance in Jed's direction, he almost ran to where his horse waited, tethered to a tree branch.
Heyes never took his eyes off Gibby, even after he was on his horse and riding away his eyes bore hot craters in his back. Jed watched, silently impressed, wondering what Heyes had told Gibby to make him leave so hastily.
Heyes turned, his face breaking into a radiantly cheerful grin. He clasped his hands together, rubbing them vigorously as he walked back to where Jed waited. "All right then, we better get a move on. We've wasted a lot of time talking. Sooner or later, someone is going to come after us."
"Us?"
"Sure. You and me…desperate bank robbers extraordinaire."
"Heyes, I can't ask you to---"
"Let's go, Kid. We've been here too long already. Get the horses…I'll grab the money…er, the loot."
"But Heyes, you---"
"Jed, please. Don't say anything else. You were right. We should stick together…always. I was wrong to think anything else. Now hurry up, would ya? Unless you want to have the shortest bank robbing career known to man."
Jed finally returned Heyes' smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily.
Horses and loot retrieved, Heyes and Jed, aka Kid Curry, rode away from the town, taking a route across the open prairie and away from any roads traveled by honest citizens. Heyes was quiet in a way that was familiar to Jed. He tried to let his friend and partner take as much time as he need to mull over his thoughts but after a few minutes, he could wait no longer.
"Heyes, what are you thinking about? Are you ok with all this?"
"Hm? Oh. Yeah, yeah sure."
"You're awful quiet."
"Well, I was just thinking."
"About?"
"Well, I was thinking---you got your new fancy bank-robbing name. I was thinking maybe I should get me one too."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know…what do you think of 'Handsome Hank Heyes'?"
Kid shook his head doubtfully, his face drawn together in a frown.
"No good? How about 'Butch Heyes' then. Better?"
Kid's frown deepened. "Naw, Heyes, I think maybe you just better stick with Hannibal Heyes. You don't seem suited to aliases much."
Heyes nodded, "I think you're right, Kid. Who needs an alias?"