The telegrapher shook his head as he watched the young man amble out of the office and onto the boardwalk where he stood, hands on hips and a deep frown on his face. It was Kid Curry's third day here in Eagle Butte, the third time he had been to enquire about a telegraph for Thaddeus Jones, and the third time he had left empty handed.
A few weeks ago 'Big Mac' McCreedy from Red Rock, Texas had sent word to the two ex-outlaws saying that he had two important jobs which he would entrust only to them. Arriving at the McCreedy ranch they had tossed a coin and Heyes took the job there in Red Rock while Kid had climbed back into his saddle and ridden one hundred miles north to deliver some important papers. 'Big Mac' was a generous employer so any job he could put their way was a welcome bonus - except of course if it had anything to do with a bust of Caesar or his feud with Armendariz.
They had agreed that Heyes would collect their pay before travelling north to meet up here in Eagle Butte. 'Big Mac' had assured them that Heyes' job would take two days at the most but that was over a week ago now. It should not have taken this long for Heyes to reach Eagle Butte and Kid was starting to worry. Another day and he would have to consider sending a telegraph to Big Mac to see if he knew of his partner's whereabouts, or riding out himself back in the direction of Red Rock to search for him.
Kid looked across at the saloon and decided that a beer and a few hands of poker might ease his anxiety for a while, so he straightened his hat and strode across the street.
Noise and cigar smoke bombarded his senses as he pushed through the batwing doors, his eyes struggling to adjust from the bright sunlight outside to the dimly lit saloon. The bar was busy but he managed to find somewhere to stand and he leaned forward a little to catch the bartender's eye.
Suddenly the sound of a familiar laugh from the far end of the bar drew his attention away from his desire for a beer and, as he stepped back in order to see where it had come from, his eyes could just about make out the back of a man with brown hair and a dark shirt. The man laughed again. Kid Curry was in no doubt that he would know that laugh anywhere. It was Hannibal Heyes.
Relief flooded over him for a moment, then his temper flared. Kid had spent the whole morning sitting on the hotel porch watching the street but hadn't seen his cousin ride into town. Why hadn't Heyes sought him out at the hotel when he arrived? Judging by the number of glasses and the half empty bottle of whiskey on the bar he and his companions, whoever they may be, had been there for some time. He ignored the enquiry from the now present bartender and threaded his way through the crowd.
Kid slapped the dark haired man on the back. "Nice of ya to tell me you were here," he said sarcastically.
The man slowly turned and Kid's eyes opened wide in astonishment. This man had Heyes' hair colour, his dark brown eyes and even his laugh, but he was not Hannibal Heyes. And besides, he had a silver star pinned to his vest.
Holding both hands up in front of him Kid took a step backwards. "Sorry," he said, "I thought ya was somebody else."
"No harm done," the man replied, flashing a dimpled smile before turning back to his friends.
Kid turned and walked back to his place at the bar. If he had felt he needed a drink before, he really did need one now. The bartender served his requested whiskey which he knocked back in one gulp before quickly ordering another. How could this man look so like Heyes? Neither of them had any family or had ever heard of any living relatives.
Another couple of whiskeys later he stepped back out through the saloon doors and strode up the street towards the Eagle Hotel. He was deep in thought as he reached the hotel porch when a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.
"There you are!"
Kid quickly turned to look at the owner of the voice to see his partner Hannibal Heyes sitting in a rocking chair, his feet crossed at the ankles and resting on the porch railing.
"What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a ghost," the dark-haired outlaw laughed, pushing his trail dust covered hat to the back of his head.
"You wondered where I was? Where have you been for the past week, Heyes?" Kid hissed with more than a hint of hostility. "I've bin sittin' here waitin' and I've bin in and out of that blasted telegraph office, and nothin'. Not a word. Not one solitary word. An now ya just show up like nothin's happened and..."
"Whoa, Kid. There's no need to get proddy. 'Big Mac' had another job come up. I collected our money," Heyes added reassuringly. He stood up and straightened his hat. "Look, I'll tell you all about it over a couple of beers, how does that sound?"
"Oh, no. We're not goin' to the saloon," said Kid as he grabbed his cousin's arm.
Heyes let himself be steered through the hotel lobby and up the stairs. He knew he was a couple of days late but hadn't expected quite such a reaction from his partner. However, he knew better than to fight it when Kid was in one of these moods.
Entering their room Heyes went over and looked out of the window. "I see you gotta room overlooking the street, as usual," he said approvingly.
"Yeah, that'd be so I could watch for you!" came the prickly reply.
"Okay, okay. Let's not get into that again," placated Heyes with a roll of his eyes. He deftly tossed his hat onto one of the bedposts, placed his hands on his hips and took a step towards his partner. "You wanna calm down and tell me what's eatin' ya?"
The blond haired man looked down at his boots. He hadn't meant to get angry with his friend but he had been worried and his experience in the saloon earlier had really shaken him.
"Aaww, sorry Heyes," he said as he crossed the room to one of the beds and sat down. "I guess seein' ya sittin' there on the porch...and after what happened in the saloon." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sheesh."
"What do you mean, 'what happened in the saloon'? Someone didn't call you out over a poker game did they?"
Kid slowly shook his head. "No, nothin' like that." He gestured towards the bed opposite. "I think you'd better sit down."
Frowning with concern Hannibal Heyes did as he was bid. "Okay, I'm listening."
"Now, you know how we ain't got any folks on account of they were all killed when we were kids?" Curry began.
Heyes nodded carefully. "Right."
"And we don't have no other kin...not that we know of anyways?"
"Uh, huh." Heyes started to wonder where this was going.
"Well, I think you have."
"I have what?"
"Kin," said Kid Curry earnestly.
Heyes felt a tightness in his gut and he looked down at his hands. "That's not possible, Kid," his voice barely louder than a whisper.
"Well, I think it is. Not more 'n half an hour ago, over there in the saloon, I saw someone who looked like you. I even thought he was you Heyes, he looked so like ya." Kid's blue eyes studied his partner as he let this information sink in.
For a minute Heyes sat very still staring at the floor, then he rubbed his hands over his face and raked his fingers through his hair. He looked intently at his friend.
"There's something I need to tell ya, Kid. Something I should've told you a long time ago. I don't know why I didn't but...well...I guess I never wanted to say it out loud."
"Sounds like you'd better say it now," said Kid in a measured tone.
Heyes took a deep breath. "I didn't tell you the whole truth that day, the day the raiders came to the farm."
"Go on."
"I told you I buried my folks, but I didn't."
Kid narrowed his eyes and fixed his cousin with a steady look. "What d' ya mean ya didn't?"
"Sure, I buried Ma and Pa, but I didn't bury Quincy."
"Your brother? Why not?"
Heyes shrugged. "Simple. 'Cause he wasn't there for me to bury. He wasn't dead there in the yard with the others so I thought he'd got burned up in the fire. Once it stopped burnin' I looked. I looked all over, Kid. Quin just wasn't there."
"Sheesh, Heyes. I can't believe it," said Kid, sounding wounded. "All the time we were in the Home ya never said anythin' and we've been partners six years now and ya still never said anythin'."
Hannibal Heyes hung his head once more. "I know, I know. Y' see, when I couldn't find him I figured he'd probably run off or worse still, gone with the raiders. After what they did to our folks I just didn't want it to be true. I guess I felt ashamed, so I made myself believe he was dead. I didn't mean to keep it a secret." Remorseful brown eyes focused on his cousin. "Sorry Kid."
They sat in silence for a moment then Heyes rubbed his hands over his face again. "Maybe it isn't him," he said optimistically, attempting a smile. "The smoke in some saloons can make your eyes water somethin' awful. You sure you got a good look at him?"
"I got a real good look, Heyes. Same eyes, same hair, same laugh even. Everythin'." Kid paused for a moment then his face broke into a broad grin. "Oh, he did have one thing that you don't."
"What's that?"
"A big fat silver star!"
Kid's grin faded quickly as realisation hit him. "Aaaw no. If it is Quin, he'll definitely know you're Hannibal Heyes!"
-oooooOOOooooo-
The ex-outlaws spent the next few hours discussing what they should do. In the end the only decision they made was to go over to the cafe opposite the hotel because Kid was adamant that he was too hungry to do any more thinking.
They cautiously crossed the street and selected a table near the back of the dining room. Breaking with tradition, Heyes sat with his back to the door in case he was mistaken for the man Kid had seen in the saloon but Curry sat with his back to the wall and facing the door as usual. They both enjoyed a plentiful and well cooked meal, albeit a hastily eaten one, before stepping back onto the boardwalk in the fading evening light to return to the hotel.
Heyes slipped in between the buildings to the back door of the hotel while Curry entered through the lobby and collected the room key from the desk clerk. He was just about to set foot on the first step of the stairs when a voice came from close behind him.
"Who did ya mistake me for today, fella?"
Kid froze momentarily, then turned to face the man he had seen a few hours ago in the saloon. He smiled. "I thought you looked like someone I used to know, that's all."
"Sounded to me like I was someone you were expectin' to see."
Out of the corner of his eye Kid saw Heyes enter the hotel dining room from a rear door and hastily retrace his steps. It didn't appear that his lookalike had seen him.
"Naw, just a case of mistaken identity that's all," Kid said amiably. He turned to continue up the stairs when he heard the click of a revolver and Kid gritted his teeth as he felt his own Colt removed from its holster. The man pushed Kid's gun into the back of his own jeans.
"Just keep your hands where I can see 'em," he ordered. As Kid raised his hands he felt the room key he still held snatched from behind.
"Now, hold on a minute," Kid protested, but as he started to turn round again he felt the hard metal of a gun barrel against his back.
"Just keep climbin'."
The two men took the stairs to the first floor and turned left along the corridor to room five. With the gun still lodged in Kid's back the man unlocked the door and pushed Kid ahead of him into the room. The blond ex-outlaw looked back at him over his shoulder.
"Sit down over there." The man waved his gun in the direction of the only chair in the room..
"What's this all about?" asked Curry as he sat down heavily. "Who are you?"
"The name's Baxter and..."
"No it ain't." Hannibal Heyes cocked his Schofield and pushed the door wider. He quickly stepped into the room and kicked the door closed behind him. "Put the gun down, nice and easy."
Kid Curry smiled blandly as he casually pointed at his partner. "He's the man I mistook you for," he said.
Slowly lowering his revolver to the floor Baxter raised his hands and Kid leaped out of the chair, picked up the gun and retrieved his own Colt which he took pleasure in holding close to the man's face. "Now it's your turn to sit down," he said coldly.
Baxter stepped towards the chair before he turned to confirm who had got the drop on him. He raised his eyebrows and smiled contemptuously. "Well, if it ain't my little brother. I was wonderin' when you were gonna turn up, Jed Curry bein' in town an' all." He looked Heyes up and down. "It's sure been a long time Hannibal."
Secretly Heyes was grateful Kid was there to hold a gun on this man. Coming face to face with his long-lost brother was proving to be more difficult than he had ever imagined and it was taking a great deal of effort to keep his hand from shaking and his voice steady.
"Oh, only about twenty years. And the name's Heyes, nobody calls me Hannibal."
"Well, you've sure made a name for y'self, whichever one you're usin'. Though I don't think Pa would have been burstin' with pride, d' you?" sneered Baxter.
Heyes' brown eyes flashed. "Don't you dare mention Pa! I was ten years old when I had to bury him; and our Ma alongside him."
Baxter ignored this remark as well as the gun leveled at him by a steely-eyed Kid Curry and continued to provoke his brother.
"Yep, my little brother turned outlaw. Y' know, I always figured you'd come to no good, never amount to anythin' much. Anythin' lawful that is. Oh, you always had plenty of highfalutin ideas but at the end of the day it was all just talk. Look where it got ya, you and your baby-faced friend here."
"Sounds to me like you're the one with too much talk," said Kid, purposefully cocking his Colt as he walked backwards and leaned against the closed door. Heyes holstered his own revolver and moved a step closer to his brother.
"Well, Quin...I take it you're still calling yourself Quincy." Heyes attempted a smile as he fought with his emotions. "The Kid and me well, we might've come to 'no good' as you put it but, we have been a might successful in our chosen profession. Very successful, in fact. Hell, ten thousand dollars reward apiece, now that takes a bit of earnin'!" He pushed his hat to the back of his head and took a deep breath. "Y' see, you have to have brains to come up with, what did you call them? Oh yeah, 'highfalutin ideas'. I call them plans. And you hafta have plans that work, and work real well, to be able to rob trains and banks - and not get caught. Tell me, how successful have you been?"
Baxter pointed at the star on his chest, the movement causing Curry to be on the alert. "Easy," he warned.
Baxter ignored him. "Been a Ranger for near on five years now."
"And, how many outlaws have you caught?" asked Heyes.
"A few. Nobody worth much, until now that is," came the confident reply.
Kid's eyes betrayed some concern but Heyes shook his head. "You won't arrest me and the Kid. Anyway, haven't you heard how many posses we've outrun, how many jails we've broken out of?" He smiled as an idea struck him. "Hey, I bet you've come close to being arrested a few times y'self, what with the family resemblance an' all. That must have been real embarrassing...for a Texas Ranger."
Quin nodded. "That's why I changed my name to Baxter. I've had to use my wits a few times, talk myself out of a few situations. I guess Pa passed on that silver tongue of his to both of us. He had nothin' else worth havin'." At the slur on their father Heyes' eyes flashed once more and he balled his fist.
"Go on," goaded Quin. "I can see ya wanna hit me real bad, Hannibal."
Heyes made a lunge at his brother but Kid quickly stepped forward and grabbed his arm. "Hey!" he said. "Take it easy, Heyes."
Kid released his cousin's arm as he felt Heyes relax but a smug grin once more crept over Quin's face and this time Heyes' well-aimed fist connected with his brother's jaw, tipping him out of the chair.
"HEY!" exclaimed Kid again as Heyes stood over his brother watching the blood start to show on his lip.
"Better now?" asked Quin as he stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"That's enough," said Kid. "He's your brother!"
"It don't stop me from hittin' him," Heyes said defensively.
"Sit down, Heyes," ordered Kid, pointing to one of the beds.
"What?"
"I said, sit!" Kid watched his partner remove his battered black hat and toss it to one side as he sat down grudgingly on the edge of the bed.
"And you," he ordered as he turned to Quin, righted the chair and pushed Quin back down into it.
Kid Curry folded his arms across his chest as he looked at the two men. "You need to sort this out real quick or I can see it endin' badly," he said.
"If by 'endin' badly' ya mean someone might end up in the Wyoming Territorial Prison for twenty years, then yeah," said Quin confidently.
"I dunno what you expect, Kid," said Heyes, still glaring at his brother. "It's not as if he's been real friendly."
"Maybe not, Heyes but I'm darn sure I wouldn't go flattenin' a member of my family who I hadn't seen since I was ten," his partner replied.
"Well, that's not likely to happen, is it?" he countered angrily. The callous remark was out of Heyes' mouth before he realised it but, seeing the fleeting look of pain on Kid's face, his anger faded and brown eyes conveyed a silent apology.
Heyes turned to his brother. "Would you really turn us in?" he asked.
"I should, me bein' a lawman an' all." Quin thought for a moment then shook his head. "Nah. Can't see as I would."
Kid found himself breathing a little easier for the first time that day. "Well now, why don't we try takin' this over to the saloon," he ventured. "Maybe you two can figure out how to get along over a few drinks. That is, if ya can keep things civil for more 'n five minutes."
"I guess I can," said Quin, wiping his bloodied lip again before extending his right hand towards his brother. Heyes looked dubious. Had too much time passed to be able to fix this? He looked up at his partner who tipped his head in Quin's direction. Heyes sighed and briefly shook the proffered hand.
-oooooOOOooooo-
The saloon was just as busy as it had been earlier that day but the three men were still able to find an empty table near the back of the room. As they sat down a pretty blonde sashayed over casting her eyes approvingly over the three men before being dispatched to the bar to fetch Quin's whiskey bottle and three glasses. She looked over her shoulder coyly at Kid and smiled. Heyes looked at his brother and rolled his eyes.
Quin laughed. "I see ya haven't lost ya touch, Jed. Why, even when ya was a little boy ya could wrap the ladies round your little finger!"
Heyes leaned towards his brother. "His name's Thaddeus Jones and I'm Joshua Smith," he murmured.
"Huh?"
"Those are the names we're using now."
"Really?"
Heyes quickly deliberated whether to tell Quin about the amnesty. An unspoken query to his partner drew an almost imperceptible nod and Heyes turned to his brother.
"We were given those names by an old friend of ours, Sheriff Lom Trevors from Porterville."
Quin raised his eyebrows questioningly. "You two know a Sheriff?"
"We know lots of people," Heyes confirmed with some irritation. " Anyway, Lom spoke to the Governor for us oh, nearly a year ago now when we decided to go straight and..."
"Go straight?!"
The conversation halted as the saloon girl returned. She hardly took her eyes off Kid who couldn't resist giving her a subtle wink. This time both the Heyes brothers rolled their eyes. As she walked away Heyes continued, "that's right, and the Governor said that if we keep outta trouble for a year he'll consider giving us an amnesty."
Quin looked from one ex-outlaw to the other in amazement as he pulled the cork from the whiskey bottle and poured three full glasses of the amber liquid. He raised his glass and the others did the same before they all knocked back their drinks in one.
"Well, I've never heard of an amnesty bein' granted to anyone with your criminal record, it's usually small time crooks but, I guess there's always a first time," Quin said.
Kid nodded. "That's what we're hopin'."
While he refilled their glasses Quin glanced sideways at Kid Curry. He was acutely aware of the role this man played in the partnership, from the way he had chosen his seat so he could watch the room, to his seemingly relaxed but highly focused demeanour, not to mention his reputation with a gun.
"So Quin, you gonna tell us what happened to ya?" asked Heyes between sips of his whiskey.
Quincy hesitated. He didn't want to say anything that would provoke another angry response from his brother especially here in the saloon. After all, he had his reputation as a Ranger to think of and the last thing he wanted was for people to recognize who he was consorting with. Besides which, if it came to an all out fist-fight he wasn't sure he would win. That was some punch his little brother had thrown earlier.
"The raid on your folks' farm might be a good place to start," prompted Kid.
Heyes removed his hat and set it down on the table as he leaned back in his chair. "If you're worried I'll start a fight, I won't. Heck, we spend all our waking hours trying not to draw attention to ourselves, so I'm not likely to start a fight with a Texas Ranger in the middle of a busy saloon now, am I? I know I won't like it but I do need to hear what happened."
"Alright," said Quin reluctantly. He gulped his whiskey and topped up his glass. Staring into the amber liquid he cast his mind back to times he had thought best forgotten.
"I was out back when I heard the raiders comin'. They came in real fast, I didn't even have time to get to the house. When they rode into the yard Pa came out with his rifle. He took a few shots, winged one, but he was cut down pretty quick. I just stood there in the middle of the yard waitin' to be next. I saw Ma run out of the house. She saw Pa on the ground and started screamin', then one of 'em...he ran her through with his sword." Quin paused and drained his glass again.
Kid quickly shifted his gaze from Quin to Heyes. His partner's brown eyes were hard and glistening as he stared at his brother, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the arms of the chair.
"A few of them went into the house; I figured they took anythin' they thought was valuable. Then, they set it on fire - the barn too. There was nothin' I could do, Han."
This time Heyes didn't correct him for using his childhood name. "Go on," he urged hoarsely.
"They just rode round and round, whoopin' and hollerin' like a bunch of wild savages. I couldn't do anythin' 'cept stand there. Then one, well he comes up to me wavin' his sword in my face and says if I don't join them they'll kill me too, but slow, not quick like Ma and Pa. I was thirteen, Han. I didn't wanna die. So, I mounted up behind him and rode off with them.
"They'd just killed your folks!" hissed Kid, voicing the question he knew was also on his partner's lips. "Why would you do that?"
"To save my life." Quin looked surprised that Kid had even asked. "Look, I never liked the farm. Pa always thought I would take over but I was never gonna do that. I'd decided I was gonna leave as soon as I could. I guess, at thirteen bein' with the raiders seemed excitin' and there was nothin' there for me so..."
"Your ten year old brother was still there," Heyes said quietly.
"Ya weren't in the house so I figured maybe you was down at the crick or with Jed somewhere. I knew they wouldn't go searchin'. I was just glad to get away from there. I'm real sorry I left ya, Han." Quin looked down at the table in silence for a minute, his fingers tentatively probing his bruised jaw.
Kid fixed Quin with an ice cold stare. "Then what happened?" he asked, his voice steady.
Quin's eyes met Kid's. "I'm guessin' ya already know."
"Say it."
Quin took a deep breath. "We went to the next farm. Your folk's farm. I didn't do any killin', honest Jed. Or burnin', I couldn't. Our families were close. Us kids, we'd all grown up together. I was real pleased when they didn't find you or Han there either."
Heyes' attention moved from his brother to his cousin. He could feel the tension mounting in Kid from across the table.
Quin took another deep breath, then continued. "It was over in minutes, for all of them. Real quick. I couldn't stop it, Jed. Y' gotta believe me."
Kid Curry's chair was pushed back so forcefully it toppled over, startling the two brothers and Heyes watched with concern as, without a word, his cousin strode out of the saloon.
Heyes, his eyes still glistening, turned to Quin. "I helped him bury his folks. He was only eight years old but he insisted on burying Esther - you remember, the little one - all on his own. It hit him real hard, Quin."
"D' ya wanna go find him?"
Heyes knew his cousin needed some time on his own. He shook his head. "What happened next?"
"Well, after the raid on Lawrence, all Quantrill's men ended up here in Texas, me with 'em. I stayed raidin' with 'em for a while then, when the war ended, I joined the cattle drives along the Chisholm Trail from about sixty-six, I think it was."
"Huh, we did some drovin' on the Chisholm Trail," Heyes interjected with a wry smile.
Quin smiled back. "Did some fightin' in the Indian Wars in seventy-two. Then, when the Rangers re-formed, I joined up."
Heyes helped himself to another glass of whiskey. "So, what are you gonna do now, about us that is?" he asked. He knew Quin had already said he was not going to turn them in but he felt he had to keep asking the question until he believed his brother's answer.
"Well, like I said before, I'm not gonna arrest ya. 'Specially not now you're goin' for that amnesty. I give ya my word on that." Quin sat back in his chair and picked up his glass. "As a matter of fact, I've been thinkin', there might just be somethin' you two can help me with."
"Well, you'd better hold that thought," Heyes replied, "I'm gonna go look for the Kid. See you tomorrow morning, after breakfast?"
Quin nodded as his brother knocked back the remainder of his drink, picked up his black hat and left the saloon in search of his partner.
-oooooOOOooooo-
Heyes took a good look up and down the street before he entered the lobby of the Eagle Hotel. A quick enquiry established that Mister Jones had not collected his room key so he stepped back out onto the street again.
Next stop was the livery stable. Although it would be closed for the night he could at least check whether Kid's horse was still there. He made his way around the back to the corral and whistled softly. A whicker from his sorrel mare came in response and the animal trotted over, followed by Kid's black gelding. At least he knew his cousin hadn't ridden out of town. Heyes stroked the horses' noses while he considered his options.
He was just about to leave the corral and broaden his search down the alleyways away from the main street when a faint glimmer of lamplight caught his eye at the rear of the livery stables. Heyes approached quietly so that he could peer in through the small window into what appeared to be a feed store. The sight that met his eyes made him grimace.
Kid Curry paced the floor breathing hard and stopping every couple of circuits to punch a sack of feed with all his might. Heyes judged that there should be just enough light for him to be seen outside so he tapped softly on the window. As he had expected, Kid whipped round, his gun instantly in his hand and cocked ready to fire. Heyes was thankful that despite his quick draw, Kid's lightning reactions also meant that he had the ability to stop himself from firing his gun. Confident that he was not going to get shot Heyes let himself into the feed store and looked with concern at his partner.
Kid holstered his Colt. "Sheesh, Heyes. I could ha' shot ya," he said as he sat down wearily on a wooden crate, resting his head in his hands. Heyes noticed that Kid's knuckles were bleeding.
"I've lost count how many times you've said that, Kid. You've never shot me yet."
"There's always a first time," Kid mumbled.
Heyes sat down on another crate. "Yeah, but I figure when you do shoot me, that'll be when you mean to."
They sat in silence for a while.
"You done here?" asked Heyes eventually, noting that his cousin's breathing had returned to normal. Kid nodded and picking up his hat walked out through the door. Heyes dowsed the lamp and followed him.
-oooooOOOooooo-
The ex-outlaws had just finished packing up their saddle bags when Quincy knocked on their hotel room door. He was pleased to see that they hadn't taken off in the middle of the night but he was still unsure of the kind of reception he would receive. Heyes opened the door and walked away to stand next to Kid on the other side of the room. They stood side by side resting their hands on the front of their gun belts and leaving Quin to decide whether to enter.
As he stepped into the room Quin was quick to notice Kid's bloody knuckles but thought better of passing any comment on them. He wondered if the injury would impair Kid's ability to draw his gun. The atmosphere was still tense but he needed to talk to them.
"I'm glad you're still here," Quin began. He waited for one of them to speak but when neither man said anything he continued. "I said last night there was somethin' ya might be able to help me with. Y' see, I gotta collect a prisoner from Placerville. Frank Doyle's his name. Ever heard of him?" Two heads shook in unison. "Well, he's got a reputation for being pretty ornery so I figure I could use a little help getting him to Fort Worth. I could put in a good word with that Sheriff friend of yours sayin' ya assisted a Texas Ranger with a prisoner. He could tell the Governor. Might help with your amnesty."
The two ex-outlaws exchanged a glance.
"Who's the Sheriff over at Placerville?" asked Heyes.
"Parlow."
"Good man is he?"
Quin shrugged. "I guess. Never dealt with him before."
"We'll talk it over and meet you at the livery stable," said Heyes impassively.
Quin nodded his agreement as he left the room. Heyes checked the corridor was empty before he closed the door.
"Well, what d' ya think?" asked Kid.
"I told you last night, Kid; he said he isn't gonna turn us in. He gave me his word."
"Yeah, but do you believe him?"
"I want to, but..."
"You don't trust him do ya?"
Heyes shook his head. "Uh, uh."
"Should we help him out with this Doyle fella?"
"It would look good, us helping a Texas Ranger," Heyes admitted.
"Hmmm. Ever heard of this Sheriff Parlow?" asked Kid.
"No, I don't think we've run into him before." Heyes, pointed to his partner's bruised knuckles. "How's your gun hand?"
"Fine. What's that got to do with anythin'?"
"I just wanna make sure you're still up to watchin' my back, that's all."
"Don't worry, Heyes. A bit of bruisin' won't slow me down."
Heyes smiled. "Alright, let's go with him. It can't be more' n a couple of days ride to Placerville. That should give me enough time to figure out if he's telling the truth or not."
Kid gave Heyes a wide-eyed look. "You'd better Heyes 'cause it might just be too late once we walk into that Sheriff's office," he stated as the cousins draped their saddle bags over their shoulders and picked up their bedrolls.
Quin was waiting at the livery stable as arranged and his face broke into a familiar dimpled grin as the ex-outlaws confirmed they would ride with him to Placerville.
-oooooOOOooooo-
Quincy had been asleep for the past half hour and was now snoring loudly. The two cousins were making the most of what was left of the firelight to linger over a last cup of coffee before they turned in for the night.
"Y' know Heyes, I been thinkin'..." Kid whispered.
"We still have an arrangement about thinkin', y' know," Heyes replied and received the usual icy glare from his partner.
"I've been wonderin' if..."
"Same arrangement."
"Heyes, will you cut it out, I'm bein' serious!" hissed Kid. Heyes tried his best to stifle a smile. "Has Quin asked you anythin' about what happened to ya after the raid?"
Heyes took a swig from his coffee cup as he considered this. "Now you come to mention it, Kid I don't think he has. Why?"
"Don't it seem strange to you that he wouldn't wanna know. Has he spoken to you about anythin' apart from our outlawin'?"
"No."
"Well, I think if our outlawin' is all he's interested in then maybe he is gonna turn us in. I sure don't wanna take that risk, d' you?"
"You do have a point, Kid," admitted Heyes. He frowned. "Now I've got two things to figure out. Whether Quin's telling the truth, and a plan in case he's not."
-oooooOOOooooo
The next day as they rode through the scrubby Texas countryside Quincy continued to quiz them about the Devil's Hole Gang and the trains and banks they had robbed. He also told them about some of the arrests he had been involved in since he joined the Texas Rangers and one in particular, that of the outlaw Sam Bass.
Bass was a train robber too but, about five years ago, he and his gang had carried out two stagecoach robberies. A huge manhunt had ensued and Quin and three other Rangers had ambushed their quarry at Round Rock. Quin had been hoping he would be the one to arrest Bass but two of his fellow Rangers had shot him and, in his opinion, claimed all the glory for themselves.
As they listened, it became clear to the ex-outlaws that Quin was ambitious and eager to enhance his reputation within the Texas Rangers. They began to feel even more certain that their suspicions regarding his motive for asking them to help him were justified.
-oooooOOOooooo
Placerville was a small one horse town with no hotel and only one saloon, but it did have a Sheriff's office with a surprisingly large jail. Riding down the main street Heyes and Curry were, understandably, feeling a little on edge. They had talked again last night and had agreed that they should put Heyes' plan into effect.
The three riders dismounted and as they tied their horses to the hitching rail outside the Sheriff's office Heyes turned to his brother. "What's this town like? You been here before?" he queried, as he stretched his arms and looked around.
"Nope, but I'm guessin' it's much like any other."
Heyes had just opened his mouth to speak again when Kid, who was looking behind him and not looking where he was going, tripped and hurtled right into him. His forward momentum pitched Heyes against his brother who glared at him momentarily then roughly pushed him away.
"Watch what you're doin'!" Quin complained angrily at Kid who looked suitably contrite.
"Let's go inside before clumsy here lays us all out in the dirt," said Heyes sarcastically.
Quin tutted, turned and led the way inside followed by Kid and then Heyes who removed his battered black hat before stepping through the door.
A heavy set, middle aged man was currently occupied pinning up some new Wanted posters.
"Sheriff Parlow?" queried Quin.
"Yep."
Quin drew his gun. "I've got some prisoners for ya."
A laugh came from beside him as well as a familiar click as Hannibal Heyes' cocked his Schofield. The Sheriff turned to look at the three men.
"Aaww, now," said Heyes. "Good try, but there are no bullets in that gun and you know it. You're gonna have to watch this one Sheriff!"
Quin looked at his brother in astonishment. Heyes was standing with his back to the door, his hat held against his chest and his gun pointed in his direction. Quin glanced over at Kid and quickly noticed that his Colt wasn't in his holster and, now he came to notice it, why did the blond-haired man have his hands in the air?
"What's this?" asked the Sheriff.
"Like the man said, prisoners for ya. Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry!" announced Heyes.
"And who are you?" asked the Sheriff reaching for his gun.
"Quincy Baxter, Texas Ranger," announced Heyes, placing his hat on his head to reveal a silver star pinned to his dark blue shirt.
Quin's mouth dropped open. "What?!" he exclaimed, looking down at his vest which was now minus a badge. "He's lyin', Sheriff. I'm Quincy Baxter."
Heyes gave a broad smile. "Sure y' are. Strange that, seein' as I'm the one wearin' a star."
He reached across and took hold of Quincy's gun, pausing briefly as he heard a click when his brother pulled the trigger.
"Like I said, no bullets," Heyes said evenly. He looked at Quin, his eyes full of wounded hatred as he pulled the gun from his brother's grasp and placed it on the Sheriff's desk. Smiling once more he turned back to the Sheriff. "I think we'd best get these two locked up. Hannibal Heyes has a reputation for being able to talk his way out of a tiger's belly. We don't wanna get him started!"
Sheriff Parlow reached into the top drawer of the desk for his keys and led the way to the cells. He pushed a still confused Quin into the first one he came to and was just about to push Kid in after him when Heyes spoke again.
"I wouldn't go puttin' those two in the same cell, Sheriff. They have a bit of a reputation for breakin' outta jail. Don't wanna make it easy for them. And besides, they've done nothin' but argue. Y' don't want a fight on your hands."
"Sure don't," replied the Sheriff as he slammed the cell door shut and directed Kid into the cell opposite. "Gun belts off, fellas," he demanded.
"Now look," Quin began. "You've got this all wrong Sheriff. That's my badge he's wearin'. I'm the Texas Ranger!"
"Give it up, Heyes will ya," Kid said to Quin irritably as he dropped his empty gun belt on the floor and kicked it under the cell door. "You and your big ideas. It's your fault we're in this mess. I told ya we shouldha' gone south, but would ya listen? No!"
Hannibal Heyes holstered his Schofield and held his arms wide. "See what I mean?"
The Sheriff gathered up the two gun belts and ambled back to his desk. Heyes followed him, took a well-polished Colt from the back of his waistband and slipped it into Kid's empty holster.
Sheriff Parlow frowned. "Y' know, there's quite a resemblance between you two, you could be brothers," he remarked, indicating Heyes then Quin, before placing the keys in his desk drawer along with the two gun belts.
Heyes adjusted his hat down towards his eyes. "Brothers? Oh, that's not possible. My brother died 20 years ago," he said with more than a hint of bitterness. "Let's ask his partner over there what he thinks. Hey you, Curry!" he called, his smile returning. "D' you think I look like Hannibal Heyes?"
"What?" Kid peered through the bars of his cell. "Naw, I've been stuck lookin' at his face for six long years." He jabbed a finger in Quin's direction. "I'm sick of lookin' at that face. Believe me, I'd be real sick if I was lookin' at another!" came the belligerent reply. Heyes shot him a quick look which said 'stop building up your part' before turning back to the Sheriff.
"I guess ya must be imaginin' it, Sheriff," Heyes said cheerily. He was just about to open the door to the street when he paused, his hand resting on the doorknob.
"Oh, one more thing. I know I've brought ya lots of extra work to do; a telegraph to send to Cheyenne and probably a dang heap of paperwork for their extradition to Wyoming. Now, I'm more 'n happy to help with all that but would ya mind if it waits 'til mornin'? I haven't slept real good for a couple of nights, as you can imagine, having these two to keep an eye on."
"Well, I reckon there's no rush, Mister Baxter. It'll take a while to get things movin' anyways," replied the Sheriff, silently appreciating the offer of help with the paperwork. He smiled. "If it's a good night's sleep ya need there's a boardin' house across the street; Mrs Weston runs a clean house. She's a right good cook too."
"I'm much obliged, Sheriff. And just to help y' out I'll send that telegraph myself, first thing in the mornin', on my way over here."
Heyes grinned at the men in the cells and tipped his hat. As he crossed the street the sound of Quin complaining loudly again that he wasn't Hannibal Heyes and Kid berating him for getting them caught drifted out of the Sheriff's office.
-oooooOOOooooo-
Heyes was relaxing on a comfortable bed while he waited for the Deputy to take over watching the prisoners for the night. Sheriff Parlow was right - Mrs Weston was a good cook. He had enjoyed a veritable feast of roast chicken, potatoes and braised vegetables followed by blackberry pie with whipped cream and he couldn't help a wry grin as he wondered what Kid had been served for supper over at the jail.
He checked his pocket watch again - ten thirty - then moved to the window which overlooked the street to watch the Sheriff's office. Half an hour later Sheriff Parlow emerged, his jacket over his arm, and strolled up the street. The light inside dimmed and the window shades were pulled down as the Deputy made himself comfortable for the night.
Heyes put on his hat and picked up his boots. Throwing his saddle bags over one shoulder he crept down the stairs in socked feet and let himself out through the back door. The alleyway at the rear of the boarding house also ran along the back of the livery stable and, after pulling on his boots, he ran through the shadows to saddle up two horses.
Ten minutes later the unlikely Texas Ranger tapped lightly on the door of the Sheriff's office. The window shade was raised slightly and the young Deputy's face appeared. Heyes pointed to the badge which was still pinned to his blue shirt. He flashed a friendly smile as the Deputy unlocked the door and Heyes stepped inside, his Schofield drawn but concealed behind his back.
"Sorry, to disturb you Deputy, it bein' late an' all," he said, closing the door and turning the key behind him as he revealed his gun, "but I've come for my partner."
The Deputy raised his hands but looked confused, his eyes resting on the silver badge. "That'd be Kid Curry," Heyes expounded as he picked up a pair of handcuffs from the desk and ushered the young man towards the cells.
Handing his Schofield to his grinning partner on the way, Heyes pushed the Deputy through to the rear of the jail and handcuffed him to the back of one of the empty cells. Having placed his blue bandanna in the hapless man's mouth he returned to the desk to look for the keys to the cells and Kid's gun belt. Finding the gun belt but no keys, he grabbed the letter spike from the desk and extracted the small knife from his right boot.
The Schofield was exchanged for the gun belt and while Kid was buckling it on and checking his Colt was fully loaded, Heyes deftly got to work on the cell's lock with the knife and letter spike. As the cell door swung open Kid stepped out and the cousins stood looking at Quin asleep on his bunk.
"Hey!" said Heyes, rattling the letter spike along the bars near his brother's head.
Quin woke with a start. He sat up blinking in surprise at the two men. "What the...? How did ya...?"
"Told you we were good at breaking outta jail," said Heyes smugly.
"What about me?" asked Quin, clutching the bars of his cell.
Heyes gave a sardonic chuckle. "You don't think we're gonna break you out, do ya? Now, that would just be plain stupid, seein' as it was you turned us in."
Kid shook his head and tutted. "And after givin' your word ya wouldn't," he chided.
Heyes took a step towards his brother. "And after you tried to shoot me." His brown eyes flashed.
"That was a mistake, Han. A twitchy trigger finger, that's all," Quin blustered.
"Oh, no it wasn't. You thought your gun was fully loaded. You looked me straight in the eye and pulled the trigger. You would have shot me, your own brother!"
Heyes and Kid both noticed that Quin didn't even have the decency to look shamefaced.
"That's why I took the precaution of takin' the bullets outta your gun," Heyes added.
"Yeah. How did ya do that?" Quin needed to know.
Heyes folded his arms. "That turned out to be easier than I'd figured. You're a real heavy sleeper, did y' know that? No? I didn't either 'til I dropped the coffee pot the other night. It made a noise fit to wake the dead. Woke the Kid, and that can take some doin' at times, but it didn't wake you. So, the next night while you were snorin' I just walked over and emptied your gun." A satisfied smile. "You were so confident that we didn't suspect anythin' that you didn't think to check it."
"Huh." Quin thought for a moment. "Okay then, what about my badge...and his gun?" he nodded towards Kid.
"Oh that? You remember, my clumsy partner here tripped when he got of his horse. Well when he pushed me he put his gun in the back of my belt and, when I crashed into you, I palmed your badge. Simple."
"I don't see how," said Quin sceptically.
"I used to rob people for a livin', Quin! And, if y'd bothered to ask about what happened to me after our folks were killed, I'd have told ya that when I was sixteen I learned how to pick locks. I learned how to pick pockets too, deal seconds, work a shell game, that sorta thing. You need sleight of hand for that and you get real good if y' work at it."
Quin looked at the two men in disbelief. "But, but if ya planned all this, that means ya knew I was gonna turn y' both in. Why didn't ya just take off when y' had the chance?"
Heyes shook his head and sighed. "This goin' straight business kinda has an effect on a fella. Y' see, after all these years I wanted to believe that you were tellin' the truth, that you wouldn't turn us in; give us a chance at that amnesty. I guess I just hoped there was some good in you, Quin. Turns out I was wrong."
Heyes glanced sideways at Kid and shrugged dismissively. "Can't be right all the time, huh?"
Kid met his glance. "We need to get outta here, Heyes," he reminded him.
Unsmiling, Heyes tipped his hat towards his brother and strode into the office. He paused to remove the Texas Ranger badge from his shirt and was about to place it on the Sheriff's desk when he hesitated, clasped his fist around the badge and placed it in his shirt pocket. A mischievous thought had crossed his mind. Quin would already have a lot of explaining to do as to how he had let Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry slip through his grasp; let him try and explain the loss of his prized Texas Ranger badge too.
Heyes moved to the window and lifted the shade a couple of inches. "It all looks quiet," he called softly to his partner.
Kid reached into the empty cell for his hat. As he placed it on his head he drew his Colt and moved towards Quin, his eyes ice cold.
"If you're thinkin' about coming after us - y' might wanna reconsider," he said with quiet menace. "In fact, if I ever see you again I may just kill you for what you've put Heyes through. Understand?"
Not waiting for a response Kid twirled his Colt back into its holster and joined Heyes in the office. He waited while his partner opened the door and took a swift look up and down the street. "Alright, let's go" Heyes said and without a backward glance they ran silently out into the night.