Burden of Proof


Disclaimer: I am not a lawyer, so any legal references were pulled straight from google. So, if you are familiar with the law and you run across something improbable, well… I apologize. Unfortunately, my chosen profession (HRIS) does not lend itself to circa 1880-ish storytelling.


The week had been going smoothly, after a long cattle drive they had relished in the sweet nothing of the quiet Nebraska town. The drive had lasted over a month, but at the end the pay was worth it; their pockets were lined with greenbacks that they quickly spent on both women and whisky. Omaha had been friendly; the townsfolk had welcomed them kindly, smiling each night as they sat down at the poker table. They had even managed to make friends with the sheriff; he was appreciative when Kid intervened after a drunk decided to take an unwanted liberty with a lady in the saloon. She had barely let out a sound when Kid quickly encouraged the young man to head back home to sleep off what ailed him. Unbeknownst to the Kid at the time, he had been a knight in shining armor to the sheriff's sister – the owner of the saloon. From that moment on, they were treated like friends wherever they ventured. A feeling, they admitted, they could get used to.

As they stood at the bar, sipping on a glass of whiskey, they didn't have a care in the world.

"Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones, I'm placing you under arrest."

How many times had they heard those words? How many times had the barrel of a gun been leveled at their hearts? How many times had their plans, their hopes, their dreams, been shattered by those five little words? Taking a deep breath, each of the men let go of the drinks they had been holding, lifted their arms in surrender and turned around. Standing just inside the batwing doors of the saloon stood the sheriff, flanked by two of his deputies.

They stood equally confused and disappointed. Everything had been going so well, but then they knew that was always when everything would go bad.

The sheriff signaled to his men, who promptly relieved the two outlaws of their guns.

Heyes gave his most disarming smile. "Sheriff Hinds, what is this about?"

"The robbery of the Omaha Bank and Trust."

The men shared a confused look. Granted, their list of crimes was long, but in all of the robberies they participated in, none were within the borders of Nebraska, let alone Omaha.

"You must be mistaken." Heyes tried again, in earnest.

"Not mistaken. Now, if you two will come with me."

With their hands still raised, they followed the sheriff out, every eye in the saloon on them.


As the cell door slammed behind them, they turned, tightly holding on to the steel bars. "Sheriff, would you mind telling my partner and me a little more about what we supposedly stole?"

Sitting in his chair, with his feet propped up on the desk, the sheriff smiled, "Sure, I'll play along, Mr. Heyes. Two nights ago, you and Mr. Curry…"

"Let's stop right there." Heyes interrupted. "My name is not Hannibal Heyes and he is certainly not Kid Curry."

"Makes no nevermind to me what I call you." He shrugged, "Hell, Smith and Jones isn't exactly the most creative aliases you could've come up with. But if you insist, I'll gladly keep calling you that. Don't matter, the charges remain the same."

"Why don't you just go ahead and finish your story." Kid spoke.

"Like I was saying, two nights ago the two of you entered the Omaha Bank and Trust. You, I imagine," he nodded towards Heyes, "opened the bank's brand new safe. Once inside, you relieved the bank of over $50,000."

"Just for curiosity sakes, what brand is the safe?" Heyes asked.

"A Pierce and Hamilton, 1878."

Heyes laughed, "A P&H '78, you say? Sheriff, you must not read a lot of papers. It's well documented that Hannibal Heyes can't get into a P&H without destroying half the bank. He spent 5 hours trying to get in one in Denver, at the end of the night he had to blow it with nitro."

"You seem to know an awful lot about Mr. Heyes, seein' that you 'aren't' him." He chuckled.

"As we do bear a resemblance to the two, I've taken some time to study up on their crimes. His exploits have made the papers for years; it's all a matter of public record."

"Well, it's also a matter of public record that every time someone said Heyes couldn't do something, all of sudden, he would."

"Sheriff, if we really were Heyes and Curry, why would we still be in town? Now I'm not as well read as my partner is, but I can't imagine two outlaws would hang around after stealing $50,000"

"That is what you would think, isn't it?" The boys smiled. "Except," the sheriff sat up, propping his elbows on his desk, "thing is, someone from town has come forward and identified the two of you as Heyes and Curry. Now, if you two want to keep going around in circles, that's fine, I can play this game all day. Just so you know, I'm having a representative from Wyoming come here directly, just to have an o-fficial identification. If by some miracle you ain't them, I will apologize for that, but the charges remain the same."

Heyes started to get angry, "How can the charges remain the same if we aren't Heyes and Curry?"

"Because you are the ones that robbed that bank and I'm ready to prove it."


Kid tried to contain his frustration. Sitting on the cot, he held his hands tightly, struggling not to put his fist through something or someone. Next to him, his partner sat equally bothered. To be honest, that worried him. Heyes was good at staying calm, he was good at keeping his emotions in check, he was good at letting common sense and sound reasoning take the place of emotion. But as he saw him ring his hands Kid realized, staying calm wasn't something he was going to be able to do for long.

"We stopped robbin' a year ago. Now, we're gonna go to jail for something we didn't even do?" He whispered.

"Sounds right." Heyes tried to contain his disgust, but it slipped out all the same.

Kid leaned back, his head against the bars. Even if they could prove their innocence, their fate would be sealed the moment the representative from Wyoming arrived. As he closed his eyes, he quietly hoped that the representative would be their old friend Lom Trevors; then, and only then, would they have any chance at freedom.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely heard the office door open, the jingle of the bell announcing a visitor. "Excuse me, Sheriff? Could I have a moment with the prisoners?" Standing at the desk was a young kid, barely old enough shave, Kid thought. He sported a light suit and tie; in one hand he carried a tattered briefcase, on his nose were oversized spectacles.

"Charles, what do you think you're doin'?" The sheriff stood to greet the young man.

"Well, Sheriff, every citizen of these United States has a right to council under the sixth amendment of the constitution. As a newly licensed attorney, I am here to offer my services to these fine gentlemen."

The sheriff laughed, "Charles, I know you're trying to make your Ma proud and all, but I don't think representing two notorious bank robbers is the way to do that."

"My Ma always told me to speak for the mute, see for the blind, and defend the defenseless. So, with all due respect, I believe I would be making her very proud." He stood with his head tall.

"Very well, if you want your first case to be a losin' one..." He walked over to the cell door, opened it and let the young man inside.

As the door closed, Charles turned back to the sheriff, "Sheriff, as you know, counsel is allowed to speak with his client in private, as all discussions are subject to attorney-client privilege."

With an air of annoyance, the sheriff shook his head. "Very well. I need to go see if that Attorney General has made it to town anyway." He glared at the two outlaws, "My deputies will be right outside that door if you two decide to try anything smart."

As the door closed, Charles took a seat on the cot opposite the two men. He nodded to each, "Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry."

"Actually, we're not them." Kid attempted a smile.

"Yes you are." He stated matter of fact. "I spoke to the person that identified you. They never lie."

"Maybe they were mistaken?" Heyes suggested.

"They weren't." Kid and Heyes glanced at one another, but remained silent. "I just came from the telegraph office; a Sheriff Jeff Cooper will be here in two days to also provide identification."

Kid and Heyes closed their eyes and exhaled, mournfully.

"You know him?"

"Yeah, we know him." Kid answered.

"If I'm going to fight these charges, I need honesty."

Sharing one more look, Heyes sighed, "I'm Hannibal Heyes, he's Kid Curry."

Charles smiled. "Thank you. Now, once we receive a full acquittal on the current charges, I will equally fight your extradition on the basis that due to your notoriety you will not be able to receive a fair trial in Wyoming."

"Just so you know we didn't rob that bank. In fact, we haven't done any outlawin' in over a year." Kid stated, emphatically.

"Oh yes, I know." He blushed, "To be honest, in law school I studied all of your crimes. Well, yours and several other outlaws of the area." He sat up straight, pushing his spectacles a little further up his nose. "A Pierce and Hamilton can't be opened through manual manipulation. In fact, it has only been opened in a total of six robberies. Two were inside jobs; the other four were opened using nitro, only three of those successfully. During the latest robbery, in Utah, the outlaw lost his life in his attempt. So, with all due respect Mr. Heyes, you're good, but not that good."

"I have a question," Kid asked, "If the bank was robbed two nights ago, why isn't the whole town talking about it?"

"Sheriff Hinds is diligent and exact. At his request, the owners of the bank stayed silent so that he could investigate without distraction. He has been known to gather enough evidence for a conviction long before he even announces a suspect."

"What evidence do they have?"

"I don't know, not yet." He took a deep breath. "Something you should know, Sheriff Hinds does his job well. Whatever he does have, will be difficult to argue against."

"But you believe we're innocent?" Heyes asked.

"Innocent, no sir; but I do believe that you are not guilty of this crime. Everything I've studied about the two of you points me elsewhere. You couldn't break into that safe. Even if you could, you wouldn't have stayed in town." He sat up a little straighter. "You have my word that I will do everything in my power to gain an acquittal. All I ask is for your word in return."

"Our word?"

"Yes, Mr. Curry. I need your word that you will make no attempt to break out of jail, your word that you will work with me fully to get you acquitted; your word that you will be honest and forthright in all our dealings. Can you give me that?"

They shared a worried look. "We give you our word that we will work with you and will be honest in all our dealings." Heyes spoke, nervously.

"Your word that you won't try to break out?" He pressed.

"Charles, we can either promise not to break out of jail, or promise to be honest. We can't promise both." Kid spoke, softly.

With a deep sigh, he nodded affirmatively, "I guess I'll have to take the honesty."


Heyes paced, back and forth, back and forth; fifteen feet from the cell door to the wall. His partner continued to lie on the cot, trying to sleep. After so many years by his side, he knew better. His eyes might be closed, but his mind would also continue to spin, to go through every scenario, to consider every fate. They had promised to be honest, that they could do. But Sheriff Cooper knew them; he had arrested them two years ago. At the time, they tricked his deputy into thinking Wheat was having a heart attack. During the commotion, they grabbed his gun and escaped. Twenty-four months might have passed, but he felt certain that the sheriff would revel in seeing them escorted to the Wyoming Territorial Prison.

Just as he made another pass, the bell over the door rang out. It was Charles again, but this time he was followed by a young lady. She was pretty, he had to admit. Short in stature with long brown hair that was tied up in a bun; she wore a dark brown dress that fit a little too tightly around her small frame. As he attempted to swallow the mischievous grin that had escaped despite his best intentions, he noticed Charles' hand was firmly on her hip as they stood in front of the sheriff.

"Sheriff Hinds, Sandy and I would like to have a moment with the prisoners."

Shaking off the sleep that he had almost succumbed to and with a bit of a huff at the annoyance of being interrupted, the sheriff promptly opened the cell and exited the office in short order.

Just as they entered, Kid stood up, his hat firmly in his hand, "Ma'am." He motioned to the other cot for her to sit.

She eyed him suspiciously and Heyes had a bad feeling that her feelings towards them did not mirror that of her partner.

"Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry, I would like for you to meet my secretary, Sandy, uh Sandra."

"Nice to meet you." "Ma'am." They spoke in unison.

"Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry." Her voice had an air of stuffiness.

As she sat, she crossed her legs tightly, her hands tensely folded over her knee.

Charles sat his briefcase to the right of the cot. "I just spoke with the Attorney General; the Circuit Court Judge will be arriving tomorrow. At that time, I will submit my motions for him to consider. A preliminary hearing should take place on Thursday. After much consideration, I have also decided to submit a motion to have you both released on bail."

"Bail?" Kid asked, disbelievingly.

"Yes sir. In order to mount a proper defense, I will need your full participation; you aren't able to do that while in here."

"And you think this judge, any judge, will let us out on bail?" Heyes asked, equally disbelievingly.

"I believe I can make a case for it, yes."

The outlaws shared a look, both amused and surprised.

"If you are let out," Sandy interjected, "I'm sure the judge will require that you are escorted by a deputy at all times."

"Perhaps not." Charles stressed softly.

"Charles, please don't be a fool, this is Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry."

"Sandy, please." He stressed. Kid could sense the tension between the two and felt confident that before coming to the jail she had done her best to convince Charles to change his course of action. He turned back towards the outlaws. "Before I make this request, I will need your word that you will not flee."

"Do you mind if my partner and I have a moment to talk it over?" Heyes asked.


"Kid, I just don't believe it."

Kid laughed, "Ya know what Heyes, there's a part of me that really wants to see this judge's face when Charles asks him to let us out on bail."

"Hopefully he's not too aged, might give him a heart attack."

The two men laughed.

As the laughter died down, Heyes became serious, he took a deep breath. "Kid, what are we going to tell him? Even if he does get us acquitted, we'll still be sent back to Wyoming."

Walking over to the door to the cell, Kid looked out at the empty office. "We could give him our word. Tell him as long as the trial is going our way, we'll stay."

"The trial isn't going to go our way."

"Maybe it will." Kid spoke, hopefully.

"Kid, as soon as Sheriff Cooper gets on that stand and tells the court who we are, that's it. The jury will convict us on that alone."

"Heyes, if Wheat or Kyle had heard about this, they'd be here by now. You know as well as I do, no one else is coming. This is our only chance."

"So we give him our word? Knowing full well that we aren't going to keep it?"

Kid took a moment, thinking deeply. "We give him our word that we won't run during the trial. We stay and try to find out who really did rob the bank. Once we're acquitted, then we go."

"That might work, just one problem."

"That's what I like about you Heyes, you can always find the one problem."

"The second they say 'not guilty,' we'll be escorted right back in here. How do we escape then?"

Kid thought, "I don't know. You'll just have to come up with something."


The shackles cut into their wrists as they sat behind the long table in front of the judge.

"All rise for Judge Jacob Bullard."

Doing as they were told, they rose, the jangle of the chains reverberating around the room.

"Be seated, be seated." The judge was a thin man, swallowed by the long black robes that enveloped his small frame. His dark hair was cut short, spectacles on his nose as he looked over the papers that sat in front of him. "This is the case of the Territory of Nebraska versus Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry." Looking over his glasses, he eyed the two outlaws. Looking at the Attorney General, he asked. "Have we obtained a positive identification on these men?"

The Attorney General, a Mr. Taylor, stood. "No sir. Sheriff Jeff Cooper from Cody, Wyoming is here to make the identification."

"Let's get him in here."

At the back of the room, the deputies opened the door. To Kid's surprise, walking just behind Sheriff Cooper was their old friend, Lom Trevors, who took a seat behind Mr. Taylor as the other lawman was sworn in at the witness box.

The question had barely been asked the question when he stated, emphatically, that yes they were the outlaws known as Heyes and Curry. He then went on to explain exactly how he knew them and the lengths they went through to escape his jail. Once completed, he sat next to Lom, casting hateful glances towards the two men.

The judge looked over his papers again, "Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, you have been charged with the robbery of the Omaha Bank and Trust. Mr. Collins, how do your clients plead?"

"Not guilty, your honor."

"Very well. Jury selection will begin tomorrow; the trial the day after, unless I have any objections?" Both men were silent. "Now, I do see that I have a motion from Mr. Collins requesting bail. Is this correct?" He stared over the paper, disbelievingly.

"Yes sir." Charles remained standing.

"Young man, were you not listening as Sheriff Cooper described his last experience with the defendants?"

"Yes your honor, I was listening. However, the crux of the Territory's case hinges on the opening of the Pierce and Hamilton safe. As I'm sure Mr. Taylor would agree, there is no one in this region that is more familiar with that safe than the defendant. Also, your honor, the sixth amendment states, quite clearly, that the defense shall have a 'compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the assistance of counsel for his defense.'"

"Mr. Collins, I have been a judge for fifteen years, I am quite familiar with the rights of the defense."

"Uh, yes sir. What I just meant was, in order to provide an appropriate defense I must have access to the experts of this field. As I do not have access to anyone from Pierce and Hamilton, Mr. Heyes is the only expert available."

"And when they flee, just as they have every other time the law has had a hold on them?"

"Your honor, they won't. They gave me their word."

The judge tried to stifle his laughter, "Their word? And you believe them?"

"Yes sir, I do."

"Your honor." Lom stood. "Might I say something?"

"What's your name, Sheriff?"

"Lom Trevors, Porterville, Wyoming."

"Go ahead. "

"I've known Heyes and the Kid for several years. I don't know much about this case, but the one thing I do know is that when Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry give their word, they keep it."

"Sheriff, are you willing to take personal responsibility if they were to run?"

"Yes sir, I am."

The judge thought for a moment. "Seein' that I would hate to see a conviction tied up in appeals, bail is granted; set at $100 apiece. Court is adjourned."

With the banging of the gavel, their hands were unchained, a look of shock still etched on their faces.


As they stepped into Charles' office, the shock was still apparent to anyone that took the time to look. Sitting in the vacant chairs in front of the desk, they waited as Charles finished his conversation with Sandy at the door behind them.

"Let's get down to business." He sat in the chair behind the desk, pulling out a pad and pen. "I've sent Sandy to get Mr. Taylor, he will be bringing over all of the evidence for our review."

"That's awfully kind of him." Heyes noted, confused.

"Not really. You are entitled to see everything that has been collected."

The door opened, Sandy led Mr. Taylor into the office and offered a chair, which he quickly ignored. "This is a waste of time, Charles." He scoffed as he placed a box on the desk.

"Justice is never a waste of time, Mr. Taylor."

"Very well." He pulled out a pad of paper. "Here is a copy of the witness statement. A gentleman from the saloon is willing to testify that he watched as Mr. Heyes exited the bank on the night of the robbery."

Heyes took the paper and read it over. "It says he saw this at two in the morning, how could he identify anyone that late at night?"

"And how drunk was he to still be up?" Kid asked.

Charles interjected. "Those are all very good questions." He started making his notes on his paper.

"The sheriff also discovered boot prints in the dirt just outside the bank. Those prints match the boots that were purchased by Mr. Curry earlier this week." He handed Charles the forensic report from the sheriff, the shopkeeper's statement, as well as a copy of the receipt.

Heyes looked up, "How did they get inside bank?"

"It appears that you…"

"Mr. Taylor." Charles warned.

"Very well, it appears that the perpetrator used a tool to widen the bars on one of the back windows."

"And have you found this tool?" Heyes smiled. "I'm guessing not, seeing that you haven't pulled it out of that box of yours. You also haven't pulled out a receipt where we purchased one. Mr. Taylor, you might know a lot about the law, but you don't know much about bank robbin'. We couldn't have gotten into that bank without a bar splitter and as I'm sure the sheriff searched our room, you know we don't have one on us. So, where could it be?"

Taylor gritted his teeth in frustration, "Mr. Heyes, this is an ongoing investigation, I feel confident that the sheriff will find it." He smiled, devilishly, "Plus, these were also left at the scene." Out of the box, he pulled out a napkin, opening it; he revealed a pair of picks. "Can I assume they are yours?"

Heyes shook his head, "Never seen them."


Kid had barely locked the door before Heyes went to his saddle bag. Digging through its contents, he gave up in frustration, and dumped everything out onto the bed. Not finding what he was looking for, he went to Kid's bag and did the same. "They're not here."

"When was the last time you had them?"

"After we checked in, I put them in my bag."

"Maybe the sheriff took them when he searched our room?"

"No. If they had the rest, they would have been in that box of his. He wouldn't have asked if they were mine."

There was a knock on the door. Opening it, Charles stood on the other side, beaming. "That was great, wasn't it?"

"Great?" Heyes asked, unbelievingly.

"The picks, all we have to do is find out who really owns them and we'll know who robbed the bank, you two will be cleared."

"Charles…" As an afterthought, Kid closed the door, locking it. "We lied."

"You lied?" He looked back and forth between the outlaws, confused, "You mean the picks…?"

"They're mine."

Charles sat on the bed, dejected.

"Charles, we didn't rob that bank." Kid stressed.

"Then how?"

"We don't know. They were here when we checked in; someone must have taken them." He looked up at Heyes, hopeful, "Someone from the hotel?"

"They stole a set of lock picks, but left everything else?" Heyes asked, disbelievingly. "Kid, we're being set up. Someone in town knew who we were. Someone knew they could break into the bank and pin it on us."

"Yeah, but who?"

"Who identified us to the sheriff?" Heyes asked Charles.

"I, I can't answer that." Charles answered, nervously.

"Charles, you heard Heyes. Knowing who we are gave them a chance to steal $50,000. They knew that no one would ever believe that Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry didn't do it."

"No, that can't be it; I'd stake my life on that."

"Why's that?" Heyes pressed.

"Because she isn't like that." He stressed, defensively.

"She?"

"Sandy?" Kid looked from Charles back to Heyes. "I told you she looked familiar."

Realizing he had given her away, he became flustered. "She, no, I meant they…" He gave up, "She was once on a train that you robbed."

"We've been in town a week, why didn't she turn us in when she first saw us?" Kid asked.

"Because she heard the same rumor I had, that the two of you had gone straight. But when she heard the bank had been robbed, well, she naturally thought it was you." He looked back and forth between the two men. "She was only doing what she thought was right, you can't be mad at her."

"Don't worry Charles, we're not. We're angry at whoever thinks they can walk away with $50,000 while we go to prison."


Kid tapped the elbow of Heyes' arm and pointed toward the restaurant's door. Walking towards them was their former gang member and friend Lom Trevors. "Boys, mind if I join you?"

They motioned towards the empty chair, to which he quickly filled.

"Heyes and me are awfully glad to see you."

"I was at a conference in Cheyenne when the telegraph came in. Before I could even raise my hand, Jeff volunteered to come out. The Governor asked me personally to join him, to find out if there was any truth to the charges."

"There isn't." Heyes stated.

"I figured as much." He took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair. "Sheriff Hinds showed me the evidence. It's all pretty damning. The picks especially, they're yours."

Heyes nodded, solemnly, "Yes."

"I wasn't asking a question. Hinds asked if I recognized them from my time in the gang. I told him that I did. He's also asked that I testify to that affect at the trial."

Kid angrily tapped on the table, "Lom, we didn't rob that bank. Someone must took them and planted them at the bank."

Lom held up a calming hand, "Kid, I believe you. But you two need to understand my position. I will do anything I can to prove you're innocent, but I am still on this side of the law."

"You'll have to forgive the Kid. Being setup doesn't sit too kindly with him; it doesn't sit well with me either."

"I understand. Like I said, I'll do anything I can to help. In fact," he leaned in closer. "Do you two remember a man by the name of Bruce Chisolm?" Each outlaw shook his head no. "About three years ago he lived in Wyoming. In fact, he was the sheriff that arrested me and gave me my second chance. He retired a year later, I took over his post. Well, turns out he decided to spend his final days in Omaha." He sat back. "While I was at breakfast, I ran into him and told him about what was going on with you two. Always a sucker for lost causes, he's agreed to talk to his son, one of Hinds' deputies. He'll see if there was anyone else suspicious in town over the past few weeks, or anyone that might take advantage of you being in town."

Kid and Heyes couldn't help but hide their smiles. "We really appreciate it, Lom."

"Don't mention it. Just one more thing, you two run out on your bail, it won't be just that young lawyer you'll be running out on. You heard the judge, I put my name on the line for you two. You remember that." With a dark glare, he stood and left the establishment.


Heyes crossed the room to light the lantern. As the fire engulfed the wick, the room brightened. Taking off his gloves, he held them in his hands as he turned to face the Kid and Lom. "Well?" He asked.

Going to the bed, Lom sat on the end. "I have one lead, but I don't think it's a good one. Two days before the robbery there was a drifter that came through town. He spent two nights sitting at the bar in the saloon. The second night, he couldn't manage to pay his bill, ended up spending the evening in jail. He also left the day after the robbery."

"That's it?" Heyes asked.

"According to bar-keep, his description could have matched yours."

Heyes shifted from one foot to the other. "You're telling us, he was smart enough to open up a P&H without nitro, but was dumb enough to get arrested over a couple of beers?"

"I told you it wasn't a good lead."

"What about inside the bank?" Kid asked.

"The only people with the combination to the safe are the President and Vice-President; both earn well over $8,000 a year."

"Whew, I wonder what that's like."

"Me too."

"Was the bank in trouble?" Heyes asked, "Perhaps some deals that went wrong?"

"The bank was audited two weeks ago. It received an A+ rating. Also, in the past month, no single transaction going into or out of any single account exceeded $1000."

"So, we're back to square one?"

"Seems like it."

"What about Sandy?" Kid asked, to a surprised Heyes. "Well, she is the only one that we know knew who we are?"

"I did ask. She moved to town a year ago, she's worked odd jobs ever since; at the moment, she splits her time between the mercantile and the law office. She's strong, independent, and a hard worker. He also said the townsfolk like her, Charles especially, who's been courting her for about six months now."

Heyes sat in the chair by door, "Lom this had to be an inside job, I just know it. No one else would be able to get into that safe."

"Are you sure you can't get into a P&H without nitro?"

"I wish I could."

"Then boys, unless someone decides to confess, I don't imagine this or any other jury will ever believe that you didn't rob that bank."


Kid had to admit, sitting through a trial was about as exciting as watching Wheat and Kyle argue over who was smarter. Exciting at first, but then boiled down to the same arguments being made over and over again. As they sat at the table, pretty Sandy sat just to their right, diligently making notes of the proceedings.

The first witness had been the President of the bank who described the condition of the safe the day after the robbery. It had been left open. All of the contents were intact; the only thing missing was the money. On cross, Charles asked him about his and the Vice President's dealings. Was there any chance someone else in the bank could have the combination – no. Had the bank had any other issue with theft as of late – again no. Had there been any other suspicious activity within the bank – no again. Kid wasn't sure how being a defense attorney worked, but he felt fairly certain that he was supposed to ask questions that made them look better, not worse.

The Vice President's testimony was just more of the same, except with him, Charles decided to forgo any questioning.

As Sheriff Hinds took the stand, Kid's hopes of an acquittal remained minute. He again described the condition of the bank after the robbery. He then followed by telling the jury about his initial suspicions about Mr. 'Smith' and Mr. 'Jones.' Even though they had seemed decent enough, there had been something off about them as well. They always appeared to be guarded – watching everything and everyone; Mr. Curry's hand always hovered about his six-gun – a little too prepared to use it. And, of course, he followed that up by describing their defiant refusal to acknowledge their true identities once they were arrested. They were liars, gunslingers, and thieves, he stated, it was as simple as that.

"Sheriff, in your testimony, you stated that the defendants had been in town for four days prior to the robbery, is that correct?" Charles asked.

"Yes, it is."

"On the day of the robbery, do you recall seeing the defendants?"

"Yes, they were in the saloon, playing poker."

"Did they, at any point, go into the bank?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Isn't it true, that you have not interviewed a single witness that was willing to testify ever seeing the defendants inside the bank?"

"I suppose so."

"It's a yes or no answer, Sheriff."

"I do not have anyone that was willing to state they saw them in the bank."

"Sheriff, if he were intent on robbing it, wouldn't Mr. Heyes at least want to see the safe he planned to open?"

"Objection, your honor, calls for speculation." Mr. Taylor injected.

"I will rephrase. Are you aware of another robbery, in which the defendants are accused, that they did not visit the bank prior to the break in?"

"To be honest Charles, I really don't know much about bank robbin', I know even less about how Heyes and Curry operate."

"And yet you are asserting that they are the guilty parties."

"That's because they are."


To Kid's surprise, at least a little headway was made with the next witness. Charles was able to poke several holes in the statement from the witness outside the saloon. He admitted to have consumed several whiskeys prior to seeing 'Heyes' exit the bank. He even acknowledged that the reason he was still in town at that hour was because he was unable to recall where he left his horse. By the end of his testimony, Kid felt confident that no one would trust anything he claimed to have seen.

The testimony from the owner of the mercantile was equally plagued with doubt. He testified that he recalled selling the boots to the Kid early in the week – an issue that had never been denied by the defense, but he also admitted that particular brand of boots were his best seller; at least a quarter of the town had a pair and he acknowledged that he had sold at least three in Kid's size over the past month.

Following the owner of the mercantile, Lom Trevors took his turn in the witness box. After a brief introduction – during which he admitted to being a former outlaw himself, Mr. Taylor got to the heart of the matter, bringing out the set of picks and asked him to identify them.

"Yes, those are the lock picks used by Hannibal Heyes."

"Could you tell the court how you know this?"

"I remember seeing them during my time with the Devil's Hole Gang."

"So, you've personally witnessed the defendants use these tools during the execution of a crime."

"Yes."

"Are you aware of the concept of prima facie, Sheriff?"

"Yes sir."

"Could you please explain this concept to the jury?"

"Prima facie is the idea that an article of evidence should be sufficient to prove guilt unless proven otherwise."

"Do you believe that discovering tools at the scene of the crime, that were owned by the defendant, as sufficient evidence to convict, based on prima facie?"

"Mr. Taylor, I'm not a lawyer, I'm just a simple Sheriff. I wouldn't feel comfortable answering that one way or the other."

"Very well, Sheriff Trevors, in the crimes that you participated with the Devil's Hole gang, did you ever witness Mr. Heyes be unable to open a safe?"

"Once or twice."

"When that would happen, how would Mr. Heyes react?"

Lom half-heartedly laugh. "Poorly."

"When he would confront a safe that he was unable to open, would he try again?"

"Yes."

"And then what would happen?"

"He'd find a way to get it open."

"Did he ever fail to open a safe once he set his mind to it?"

"Not that I'm aware of." He begrudgingly answered.

"Thank you Sheriff. Your turn, Charles." He said as he made his way back to his desk.

Charles stood and approached the witness box. "Sheriff, how much do you know about the Pierce and Hamilton safe?"

"I know it's a good safe. If there was any I would recommend, that would be it."

"Why is that?"

"Because I know Heyes can't get it open without nitro and nitro is down-right dangerous. Hell, most outlaws won't fool with the stuff, with how bad it is. I heard it took the men in Salt Lake three days to clean up the mess when Dwight Jackson blew himself up trying to use it."

"Let's go back to your time in the gang, as the Devil's Hole Gang prepared for a job, did the leadership ever execute a robbery without knowing the make and model of the safe they would be opening?"

"No sir, not at a bank at least. You see, you have to allow yourself the right amount of time. For instance, I've seen a Magnalock opened in under an hour, where a Brooker could take up to three. Robbin' banks in the middle of the night is a lot about timing. Do it too early and the whole saloon will see you, too late and the early risers will."

"So, it is inconceivable to say that the defendants would have ever robbed a bank without casing it first?"

"Objection, your honor. Now he's speculating." Taylor interjected.

"Very well, Sheriff Trevors, during any of your time with the Devil's Hole, did the gang ever rob a bank without casing it first."

"No, they didn't."

"Sheriff, can you please tell the court the last crime for which the defendants have been accused?"

"Yes, a train going into Columbine, Wyoming was robbed right about a year ago."

"So, you're saying, they have not been accused of any crimes in the past year?"

"They've been accused of a few, but it seems they are pretty easy targets for the accusation. In each of those cases, the local authorities received full confessions from the guilty parties."

"Sheriff Trevors, in your professional opinion, do you believe the defendants robbed the Omaha Bank and Trust?"

"No sir, I don't think they could have, even if they wanted to."

"Thank you."

As Charles walked back to the desk, Taylor stood. "Your honor, I have one more question for the witness."

"Go ahead." The judge ruled.

"Sheriff Trevors, how would you describe your current relationship with the defendants? And I feel inclined to remind you that you are still under oath."

Lom sat up straight, offended. "Under oath or not, my answer would be the same. I consider Heyes and the Kid personal friends, but they are not above the law. If they committed this crime I would be the first to help arrest them, but as it happens, they didn't."

Taylor laughed, "Well, I guess an outlaw always appreciates having a man of the law on their side, don't you think, Sheriff?"

Charles stood, "Your honor!"

"I'll withdraw my statement. I have nothing further with this witness."

As Lom stepped down, the judge looked over his witness list. "Now, Mr. Taylor, do you have any other witnesses you would like to call?"

"Yes sir. Last night, I received notice that a representative from the Pierce and Hamilton Safe Corporation arrived in town and is ready to testify."

Charles stood, quickly. "I object your honor; defense was not supplied adequate notice."

"Charles, I sent requests to various safe companies. Until late last night, I had not received any response. I assure you, I did due diligence and sent a notice to your office shortly after I received the telegraph."

Charles started to frantically go through the papers he had in front of him. "I did not receive anything."

Taylor smiled, "Perhaps you had already left for the day?"

"Your honor!"

The judge let out a hefty sigh. "Mr. Taylor, I do not condone this type of behavior. However, I would also like to have resolution to this trial in a timely manner. I will allow the testimony."

Angry, Charles sat in a huff as the court swore in the new witness.

The gentleman was confident. He was young, maybe mid-twenties, and wore a grey business suit. He held his head high as he stated his name – Richard Dowling – and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but.

Taylor stood and greeted him. "I'd like to start by thanking you for coming to Nebraska. Without your testimony, we would have had to depend on an outlaw for any understanding about the inner workings your company's safe." He chuckled.

"Your honor." Charles stood.

He continued to smirk. "I withdraw." He turned back to the witness. "Mr. Dowling, could you please explain to the jury your role at the Pierce and Hamilton Safe Corporation?"

"Yes sir. I am the head engineer. I lead a team of ten men whose main priority is to design safes that can withstand fire, water, and intruders."

"How would you describe your success meeting those goals?"

"Excellent, sir. As I'm sure you know, the Pierce and Hamilton 1878 has only been illegally opened four times, each of those using the highly volatile chemical - nitroglycerin."

"To your knowledge, has a Pierce and Hamilton 1878 ever been opened through manual manipulation during a robbery."

"Only when the criminal had already gained access to the combination."

"Has anyone ever opened it without the combination?"

The witness smiled. "Yes sir."

Taylor turned around and glared at the defendants. "Could you explain your answer?"

"Gladly, as I mentioned, our job is to design a safe that can withstand intruders. In order to do that, we must fully understand and attempt to open a safe without the benefit of the combination. We have three men that are world class safe-crackers – if I may use such a crass term. It is their job to ensure that the safes cannot be opened."

"And the 1878 model?"

"Has been opened."

There was murmur through the crowd as Taylor smiled broadly.

"Please continue."

"One of our men has successfully opened the 1878 model. After opening it once, he was tested on three more. By the third, he was able to open it within two hours. So, in answer to the question, yes, it can be opened through manual manipulation."

Taylor turned back towards the witness. "Mr. Dowling, are you familiar with the defendants, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry?"

"Yes sir, I am. They are very well known within Pierce and Hamilton."

"The gentleman that was able to open the 1878 model, how would you compare him to what you know about Hannibal Heyes?"

"He's a good kid, smart. But comparatively, he only has a fraction of experience with safes as Mr. Heyes."

"So, in your professional opinion, do you believe that Mr. Heyes could also open the safe in question?"

"I have no doubt that he could." He stated, confidently.

"I have no further questions."

As he sat down, Charles stood; rifling through the papers that Heyes continued to hand him. Each with a note scribbled on them.

"Uh, Mr. Dowling," He read the first page, working to decipher the handwriting, then taking a moment to consider how to better phrase the hastily written note, "Could you tell the court how many hours this gentleman worked on the 1878 before being successful in its opening?"

"I don't know for sure."

"Guess."

"I know he has had his eye on the '78 since he was hired – six months ago."

Heyes shoved another paper in Charles' direction. "Six months ago? Uh, I mean… are you telling this court that he has spent the past six months trying to decipher how to open this safe?"

"I supposed that would be a fair statement."

"Interesting…" He went to the next page. "Could you explain to the court how a safe is secured, from an engineering standpoint?"

"Yes sir. Our safe, as well as most, are equipped with a three layer dial system, most commonly known as tumblers. The door itself is secured with a fence. This fence is a metal bar with a small opening. It is only when the three dials are in the correct position will the fence move into the open position and let the lock slide out."

"And when someone is able to open a safe without the combination, how do they perform this?"

"When the dial is turned to the correct number, the first disc will become stationary as the dial is turned in the opposite direction. The same event occurs when the second number is chosen. Once all three numbers have been selected, the fence will move – allowing the lock to be disengaged and the door will open. As for how the thief is able to decipher when to stop turning the dial, from what I understand, they can hear the subtle change as the plates connect."

"Is it true that many safe companies, such as Brooker and Magnalock, still have the issue in which they have been opened through this manual manipulation?"

"Yes, that is true."

"Yet, at least until your engineer, that has not happened with the Pierce and Hamiliton 1878. Can you tell us what changed with this model?"

"Yes sir, our engineers have a patent-pending sound absorption material that masks the sounds of the tumbler."

"Hmmm…" He walked back to the desk, where Sandy had another note to give him from Heyes. "Mr. Dowling, how young is this engineer?"

"Twenty-two."

"Has he been exposed to any loud sounds, such as the blast from dynamite or nitro?"

The witness shifted in the box. "Not that I am aware of."

"So, it is safe to say, that his hearing is probably excellent?"

"I suppose."

"Mr. Dowling, are you aware of how many incidents in which the Devil's Hole gang used either of those explosives?"

"Not intimately, no."

"But you are aware that they have been known to use them."

"Yes, that is what I've heard."

"And are you aware that explosions are the leading cause of hearing loss?"

"That would make reasonable sense."

"Just to recap, what you are telling this court is that in your professional opinion, Hannibal Heyes – after years of exposure to explosions that could have potentially damaged his hearing - was able to open, in a matter of hours, the same safe that your own young engineer took six months to open?"

"Your honor!" Taylor stood.

"I have no further questions." Charles smiled as he returned to his seat.

"Jury will disregard counsel's final statement. The witness may be excused." As the witness exited, the judge looked back over his list again. "Mr. Taylor, do you have any other witnesses?"

"No sir."

"Very well, defense?"

"No sir, the defense does not…" Before he could get the words out, Heyes stood and pulled at his sleeve.

"Charles, might I have a minute?"

"Is there a problem, counselor?" The judge asked.

Looking back between the judge and Heyes, he asked. "Your honor, could we have a brief recess, I need a moment to speak with my client."

"Very well, you have ten minutes."


"I am not putting you in that box." Charles stressed as he paced in his office.

"You have to."

"We have already sewn reasonable doubt. If you testify, any future attorney general will be able to use your words against you. Not to mention, if anything you say is ever contradicted you will be looking at perjury. No, it isn't worth it."

Heyes took a deep breath. "Charles, the jury is starting to doubt our guilt, but as soon as they think it over, the simple fact that I'm Hannibal Heyes will erase any doubt they may have. I can convince them were innocent."

"You forget Charles," Kid added, "Heyes is good at more than just opening safes, he can practically talk his way out of a tiger's belly."

Charles turned to Sandy, "What do you think?"

"I think he's the best liar this side of the Mississippi, he'll at least be able to keep his story straight."

"You'll be under oath." He looked back at Heyes.

"I understand that."

"Whatever you say up there, you won't be able to take back."

"That's fine."

"When you are tried for the crimes you did commit, the Attorney General will have everything you say, ready to use against you."

"Charles, Heyes and I have done almost everything we've been accused of, if we go to trial in Wyoming, there isn't a thing he could say that would make us look any guiltier."

"Fine." He grabbed a piece of paper and started writing on it. "Before I let you up there, there is something I need you to memorize."


"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but. So help you God?" The court bailiff held out a bible, upon which Heyes placed his hand.

"I do."

"Please state your full name."

"Hannibal Heyes."

"You may be seated."

"Mr. Heyes," Charles began. "Do you acknowledge that the Territory of Wyoming has placed a warrant out for your arrest?"

"Yes sir."

"Do you also acknowledge that, in years past, you have travelled with the outlaw gang, Devil's Hole."

"Yes sir."

"And do you admit to having the knowledge required to perform such outlaw tasks as robbing a train or bank, including, but not limited to, opening up a secured safe."

"Yes sir."

"Do you admit to any crimes to which you have been accused?"

"No sir, I do not."

"The lock picks set that were presented as evidence, are they yours?"

"Yes, they were."

"Were? Please explain."

"They were stolen from my saddle bag earlier this week."

"Mr. Heyes, do you really expect the jury to believe that?"

"Yes sir. I wouldn't have left them behind."

"Very well, Mr. Heyes, how long have you had the ability to open up a safe through manual manipulation?"

"I opened my first safe at the age of eighteen, so about eleven years."

"On the occasions that you have opened a safe, what is your preferred method?"

"By turning the dial." He smiled. "Dynamite lacks imagination and nitro is dangerous, too much and you blow yourself up, too little and you just fill up the room with smoke."

"And have you ever opened a Pierce and Hamilton 1878?"

"Yes sir."

"What method did you use?"

"Nitro."

"Why didn't you try to guess the combination?"

"I couldn't hear the tumblers."

"Is the Pierce and Hamilton the only safe that you have not been able to open through manual manipulation?"

"No sir. Over the years, I've had to use dynamite on several occasions."

"Why is that?"

"Back when I was younger, I barely had to put my ear to the safe to hear when the dial set into place, especially on the Magnalock. But these days, I can barely even hear the older models."

"Why do you suspect that is?"

"I'm not a doctor, but I'd take a guess that between the dynamite, the nitro, and just being around a loud saloon, my hearing isn't quite what it used to be."

"Mr. Heyes, on the occasions that you felt it necessary to open a safe, could you please describe your process."

"Gladly, first I would have to understand what type of safe I was looking at. If it was an older Brooker, well I knew I wouldn't need any supplies. If it was a newer model, one that I wasn't quite sure about, I'd at least bring along a stick of dynamite or two, just in case."

"Would you ever go into a situation without knowing the make and model of the safe?"

"Absolutely not, not if I could help it anyway."

"Mr. Heyes, during your time in Omaha this week, did you enter the bank?"

"No sir, I did not."

"Prior to being arrested, did you know what safe model the bank employed?"

"No sir."

"Mr. Heyes, are you able to open a Pierce and Hamiliton 1878 without nitro?"

"No sir, I wish I could, but I can't."

"Mr. Heyes, I'm going to ask you a very direct question, and I will remind the jury that you are under oath, and the penalty of perjury is five years." Heyes nodded affirmatively. "Did you or your partner, Kid Curry, rob the Omaha Bank and Trust?"

"No sir, we did not."

"Thank you." As we walked back to the desk, he passed Taylor as he walked up to Heyes.

"Mr. Heyes. How many safes are you able to open on the first try?"

"About half." He smiled.

"And when you are not able to open them?"

"I get creative."

"Creative, as in using dynamite?"

"Um-huh."

"I'm sorry; you will need to state yes or no for the jury."

"Yes, as in using dynamite or nitro if that's going to be your next question."

"As I was doing my research for this trial, I noted that it is well documented that Hannibal Heyes always rises to a challenge, is that true?"

"I'm not exactly sure what is said about me; I don't have much time to read dime novels."

"Do you believe that the reputation is accurate?"

"I wouldn't say it is inaccurate."

"Mr. Heyes, would you please tell the jury what you are wanted for?"

"Armed robbery is the charge."

"Armed robbery, could you be more specific to the exact nature of the charges?"

"My partner and I have been accused of robbing several banks and trains."

"And would you concede that there is some truth to these accusations?"

Heyes glanced over at Charles, and smiled. "Under the advice of counsel, I will decline to answer that question by exercising my right against self-incrimination as guaranteed under the Fifth Amendment of the Constitution."

Taylor glared at Heyes, hatefully. "Very well."

"Mr. Heyes, are you aware of any other outlaw that has a similar skill set as yours?"

"I know of several that are capable of opening a safe without dynamite."

"Would you like to give us a few examples?"

"No, I would not."

"Your honor, irrelevant, this question has no bearing on the case at hand." Charles objected.

"Sustained. Mr. Taylor, please stay the course."

"Yes, your honor." Obviously frustrated, he turned back to Heyes. "Mr. Heyes, you claim that you are unable to open the Pierce and Hamilton without nitro. To your knowledge, is there another outlaw that would be able to?"

"To my knowledge - no, but before today I also believed manually opening a P&H '78 without the combination was impossible." He smiled.

"Mr. Heyes, earlier we presented a set of lock picks. You stated in your testimony that they are yours, correct?"

"Yes, they are."

"Could you explain to the court why you own them?"

"I use them to open locks."

"Could you tell the court the circumstance in which they were used last?"

Heyes smiled again, "Under the advice of counsel, I will decline to answer that question by exercising my right against self-incrimination as guaranteed under the Fifth Amendment of the Constitution."

Taylor became increasing frustrated. "Mr. Heyes, can you describe a situation in which you have used your picks for a lawful purpose?"

"Under the advice of counsel, I will decline…."

"Yes, yes." Taylor interrupted. "You will exercise the Fifth Amendment right. Seeing as we will continue to hear the same answer over and over, because the fact of the matter is, that as criminal every answer would self-incriminate, I have no further questions."

"Witness may be excused." The judge watched as Heyes returned to his desk. "Defense, do you have any further witnesses?"

"No sir, I do not."

"Very well, unless there are any objections, we will dismiss for the day, final summations will be presented first thing in the morning. Court is adjourned." The judge rapped his gavel as he stood and exited the room.


Stepping into his office, Charles was beaming. "This is great, don't you think?" He asked as Sandy, Heyes, and the Kid followed him in the room.

"Do you really think we'll get an acquittal?" Kid asked.

"I do. I mean, we destroyed their arguments. To convict, the jury must believe beyond a reasonable doubt that you two committed this crime. No one can honestly tell me that we have not created at least a sliver of doubt."

Heyes smiled. "Alright, what's next?"

"Well, I'll have to write my summation, we present it in court tomorrow, and then we just wait for the jury to come back with a verdict."

"What happens if we do get acquitted?"

"Well, considering your history with Sheriff Cooper, the judge will probably remand you into custody until your extradition hearing."

"And if you do manage to keep us from being extradited?" Kid asked.

"I will fight to have your trial moved to Nebraska, citing that you won't receive a fair trial in Wyoming."

"And we'll be found guilty."

Charles' smile faded. "More than likely. There are too many witnesses who could be called to testify, your friend Sheriff Trevors for one. An acquittal is unlikely." He turned and pulled a book from his shelf. "Perhaps I can argue that you had been under duress."

"We weren't." Heyes added.

"Or at the time, you didn't understand right from wrong."

"Except we did." Kid stated.

He put the book down. "I'll think of something. I can always try to make a deal for a more lenient sentence, due to the fact that you have gone straight." He took a deep breath. "Don't give up boys, not yet."

There was a knock on the door, Sandy let a deputy in. "Charles, Sheriff Hinds and Mr. Taylor would like to speak with you. They say it is important."

"Oh, alright." He started gathering up his things. "Boys, I'll meet with you again in the morning. Sandy, please start on my summation, just take the major points from the trial, I'll clean it up when I get back."

"Yes sir."

As the door closed, Kid sighed, "Well, at least we won't go to prison for a crime we didn't commit."

"You two aren't out of the woods yet." Sandy added. "It's going to be hard for the jury to let you two go when they still don't have someone else to convict."

"Charles said all they need is reasonable doubt."

"That's true."

"Ya know Sandy, you haven't said much this week. What do you think the jury will decide?"

"I think if they go off the facts of the case, they will acquit. The problem is people very rarely go off just the facts. They go off gut instinct, they go off emotion, and they might convict you today just to see justice served for your other crimes."

"Do you think we're guilty?"

"I did at first, but now I'm not so sure." She smiled at Heyes, "Your reputation as having a silver tongue is quite on point. I must admit, the questions you had for Mr. Dowling were good, you could have made an excellent lawyer yourself."

"Ya know what, Kid. If we are going to go back to Wyoming, I sure would love to know who caused us all this trouble."

Sandy sighed. "Unfortunately, so much time and effort has been placed on convicting the two of you, whoever really did steal that money is probably long gone." She sat at the desk and pulled out a piece of paper, "I need to start on this summation. Why don't you two go relax at the restaurant, get something good to eat, cause after tomorrow, there's no telling what you'll be eating for a while."


As they ate the steak before them, they were silent, continuing to ponder the dilemma before them. Just as Kid took another drink of water, Lom walked up to their table.

"Mind if I have a seat?"

Attempting to smile, they pulled up another chair for him to sit.

"The trial seems to be going in your direction. I've watched my share of juries; this one is definitely beginning to doubt your guilt."

"Good to hear it." Heyes said. "Any more leads who actually did rob the bank?"

"Not yet, but I'll be meeting with Bruce and his son after I leave here."

The outlaws again tried to smile, but just couldn't muster it.

"Even if you are found not guilty, what do you two plan to do?"

"Run." Kid answered.

"You think you can get out of this town alive?"

"I think we have a better chance before we have half of Wyoming's finest by our sides."

"I'd hate to see you two shot down."

"So would we." Heyes stated. "What other choice do we have?"

Lom nodded, mournfully. "Well boys, I'd like to see what that jury has to say. Any plans after that… just don't tell me about it."

"Don't worry Lom, we won't." Kid said.


As they stepped into the room, something didn't feel right. Glancing at one another, they knew the other felt the same. Guns out of their holsters, they walked cautiously. Heyes looked behind the curtains, while Kid checked the closet – nothing. Everything was still as they left it, the saddle bags sat on the dresser, and the beds remained disheveled from that morning. They looked under both beds, still nothing. Just as Kid started to cross the room, his boot caught on the floor. Kneeling down, they inspected to wooden board, the corner was raised. Heyes holstered his gun and with his nails, attempted to raise the plank. Just as he felt it give, a round of knocks pounded against the door.

"Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry I need you to open this door." It was the Sheriff.

A look of concern passed between the men. With his boot, Heyes pressed his weight down on the board as Kid opened the door, behind which stood the sheriff, his deputies, Charles and Mr. Taylor.

"What's this about?" Heyes asked as the men stormed into the room.

The sheriff put his gun back in his holster. "My office just received a tip that we should re-search your room; if you two wouldn't mind stepping into the hallway?"

Cautiously doing as they were asked, they watched through the door as all of their belongings were rifled through. The beds were upturned; the dresser drawers were pulled out and emptied, all while they desperately tried not to look at the loose board on the floor.

Just as it appeared the search had ended, just as the room had finally quieted, one of the deputies crossed the board one final time, the change in sound noticeable to the sheriff just to his left. Pulling on the man's shoulders, Hinds leaned down and ran his hand across the wood. "Go get a crowbar from the livery." He called out to one of his men, who quickly obeyed the command.

As they waited, the sheriff walked around the board, tapping his boot against the wood, noting the change in sound from one to the other. Once the crowbar had been retrieved, he worked on the corner; the same one Heyes had also pulled on. Within a matter of minutes, the board had been loosed from its confines, a gaping hole revealed underneath.

Heyes didn't have to wonder what was resting beneath the floor, Hinds' face lit up as he reached in, pulling out a dirty and dusty bar splitter. Looking up at the boys, Mr. Taylor equally smiled, "See boys, I told you we'd find it." He glanced back at a stunned Charles, "That deal we were talking about earlier, I think it's safe to say that in light of this new evidence, we can forget about it."

The sheriff pushed his hat down on his head. "I'll be posting a man outside your door until the end of the trial – they will accompany you anywhere you decide to travel; I'm also sending a man to stay at the stable. If you boys make one move to get to your horses, or to leave town, they will shoot to kill."

With broad smiles, the lawmen left the room.

Entering the room once more, the boys were fuming. On the chair by the door, Charles sat, staring at the floor in hopeless exhaustion.

Kid slammed the door behind the lawman waiting outside, unable to contain the anger within. "Damnit!"

Charles listlessly shook his head no, "I should be going home now."

Before he could get to the door, Kid met him, his hand preventing him from opening it. "Charles, we didn't rob that bank!"

"The bar splitter..."

"Someone planted it, today." Heyes met the two. "Someone came in here, pulled up that board and put it there. Whoever that was, must have sent the tip to the Sheriff."

"No jury will believe…"

"I know." Heyes seethed and took a deep breath. "But right now, the Kid and I need you to believe."

"How did they get in here?" Charles asked.

"Probably the same way they came in before. Except tonight, they probably used my picks to get in." Heyes spoke, sarcastically.

"Charles, who told the Sheriff to search our room?" Kid asked.

He shrugged, "I don't know. We were talking about making a deal and a note was slid under the door. No one saw who left it."

"What deal?"

"Mr. Taylor isn't so sure he'll earn a conviction. He wanted to make a deal, reduce the charge to just grand larceny instead of armed robbery. I thought I'd at least listen to what he had to say."

"But now?"

"Like I said, no jury will believe you, not now."


Kid collapsed on the bed. "Even if we do leave, betray Charles, betray Lom, we'll have lost our amnesty."

Heyes stood at the window, surveying their options. They could still get out, they could still leave, but the Kid was right, they would lose their amnesty, they would be back on the run, they would remain outlaws. He wanted to say something to brighten Kid's spirits, but the simple fact was there was nothing left to say.

As he leaned his head against the window frame, there was another knock on the door. Crossing the room, he opened it, Lom was standing on the other side, a deputy just to his right. "Mind if I come in?" Opening the door wide, he let him in, letting the door close loudly on the deputy that stood just outside. "I heard about the bar splitter."

"Lom, I'm getting tired of saying this, but we didn't rob that bank!" Kid sat up in the bed, angry still.

Lom raised a calming hand. "Kid, I know that. In fact, I came here with some news."


As they crept around the back of the house, Kid and Heyes kept glancing over their shoulders, just waiting for someone to discover their actions. They had barely slipped out of the hotel window without detection, as they were climbing down the hotel column, Kid let go a little too early, landing hard on his ankle. Stifling a curse that would make an outlaw blush, he hobbled behind his partner as they made their way around the buildings, to the house that they were now about to break into. At the back door, Heyes pulled out a pen and letter opener, going to work on the aged lock. It was rusty and the pins didn't want to give.

"You want to hurry that up?" Kid hissed.

"Would love to, can I borrow your set of picks?" He looked up, exasperated at his partner. As he turned the knob, he slowly opened the door, "How much time did Lom say we have?" Pocketing his supplies, they entered the house.

"An hour, max."

The house was barely lit, the dying sun lighting the smallest patches. Thankfully, the house was small, one bedroom, if you could even call it that. The kitchen and the sitting room were joined, a small room off to the left that held a bed. Furniture was sparse, the walls were bare.

Lighting a lantern, each man set off to their tasks. They searched under the bed, through the cabinets, on, in, over, and under everything. Just as they were about to give up, Heyes started slowly pacing the floor, listening, listening for any change of sound, any subtle variation in step. As he walked next to the wall, he felt a board give. Taking the crowbar they had brought along – just in case, they pulled up the board. Inside were two bags. The first, the larger of the two, was heavy. Heyes pulled out a dark blue shirt, a pair of pants, a black hat, and a pair of boots. The boots matched Kid's exactly. At the bottom of the bag were his picks, all present except for the two that still resided with the Sheriff.

"Hello, old friends." Heyes spoke softly as he held them in his hands.

"Heyes, can you hold off on singing them a serenade, at least for a little while?" Heyes shot him an irritated look.

Putting everything back, they reached back into the hole and pulled out the second bag. Just as they had anticipated, in neat bundles, was $50,000.

"Ya know Heyes, we could just take that money and go on down to Mexico."

"It is awfully tempting, isn't it?"

Without another word, they closed and replaced the bag. Taking the board, they put it back in place, gently hammering the nails into place. As they relocked the back door, they made their way back to the hotel.


The sound of the door closing reverberated around the room. Behind her, the Kid leaned against it, his arms crossed. They had asked her to come to their room, "it was important," they had told her. Reluctantly, she had agreed. As she looked from one outlaw to the other, Kid could tell she was regretting her decision to follow them.

"What is this about?" She asked, obviously nervous about the response.

"Sandra Whisenhut." Heyes spoke, darkly.

"Yes?"

"When Charles told us that you identified us, he said you saw us on a train." She nodded, nervously as his eyes darkened. "You were never on a train, at least not one we robbed."

Summoning the courage, she walked towards the door. "I'm not going to stand here and be called a liar, especially not by the two of you."

Kid blocked her exit. "You're not leaving until Heyes and me get the truth."

"You want the truth? Fine, you two are no good, no-account thieves and Charles was a fool for ever believing in you."

"That may true, but we're not talking about Charles or us even." Just behind her, Heyes whispered in her ear.

"Then what are you talking about?" She pressed.

"We're talking about little Sandy Whisenhut of the Franklin Township Saloon."

She froze, her back straightened.

"See, the Kid and I remember you too. It just took us a few days to remember from where."

She turned, staring him deep into the eyes. "So, I grew up in a saloon. I didn't have much choice, my mother being what she was."

"You're the one that robbed the bank."

She laughed. "You really are unbelievable, the both of you." She shot and angry look towards Kid. "How could I possibly rob the bank? I was taught how to serve drinks, not how to open a safe – that's your talent."

"You forget, Sandy, we remember you. We remember the little girl in the blue dress, pig tails and curls. We remember how you would bring the boys drinks. We also remember how our pockets always felt a little lighter when you would walk away."

She flushed red. "I never wanted to do that; Madam Tina didn't give me a choice." She spoke in anger.

"We also know that when you first came to Omaha, you got a job at the bank; Undersecretary to the Vice President? How long did it take to pick up the combination of the safe; a number here, a number there?"

"The thing is," Kid continued, "you couldn't rob the bank back then. If you did, they would know it was you."

"Except, she did rob the bank. She stole almost $200 from one of the teller's drawer, said it was for her sick mom in Wyoming."

"She was ill; she had been out of work for almost a month and Madam Tina was about to put her out. I didn't have a choice!" She glared at Heyes, "How do you even know about that? I gave the money back, they didn't even tell the sheriff."

"No, but they did fire you. That was when you went to work for both Charles and the mercantile. Then Kid and I rode into town and you had the perfect plan. How hard was it to take home a few things from the mercantile that would match what we wore? You even had Kid's boot size from the receipt. Not to mention, you knew exactly when you could exit the bank. You knew that Samuel Kelley would make the perfect witness, just sober enough to remember that he saw you, just drunk enough to not realize it wasn't me."

"And the bar splitter?" She challenged him.

"You ran into luck again. The blacksmith has been out of town for two weeks, he didn't realize it was missing until this morning."

"See Sandy, we know it was you. Our only question is, why?" Kid spoke in her ear.

She laughed as she walked around Heyes, "You're a pair of liars desperate to not go to prison, whereas I am respected in this town. Hell, I'm your attorney's personal secretary. No one will ever believe you, especially not Charles."

"Except, we found everything you used that night, the clothes, the boots, we even found the money."

"I don't believe you."

Heyes glanced back towards the Kid and smiled, "Why do you think we asked you to meet us here instead of at your house at the end of town? Where do you think the Sheriff, Charles, and even Mr. Taylor are right now?"

"You're bluffing!"

"I guess we'll find out soon enough, now won't we?" Kid asked.

"You still haven't answered Kid's question. Why blame it on us? We were almost acquitted, you had gotten away with it, but that wasn't good enough. Why?"

She stormed passed Heyes, "I don't have to answer to you!"

Grabbing her by her shoulders, he pulled her back. "Actually you do."

Breathing heavy, she fumed as she threw his hands off her, "Fine, you really want to know?" Each man nodded affirmatively. "Because I hate you! Every week, you and your men would ride into Franklin and you two would flip a coin over who got to spend time with my mother. Every night, I would hear her cry in her bed, begging God to let her die so that she could be with my father." Tears started flowing. "Then one night, one of your men caught me lifting his wallet. So, he took me into Tina's office. I screamed, I begged for someone to help me, but you and your men were just having a grand old time. You might not have been able to hear me, but I could hear you, the both of you. I heard you singing and laughing while I cried. That bastard - your friend, took the one bit of innocence I had. And then you two came to town and you rescued Ms. Teresa. You saved her, you rescued a woman that could take care of herself, but you never saved me – I was just a child!" Turning away, she collapsed on the bed in tears.

Anger welled within Heyes. "Jesse Starling?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"Tina told us he hurt one of her girls. She didn't tell us it was you."

"If she had, we would have sent him to the grave instead of out of the gang." Kid spoke, deadly.

"You expect me to believe that?" She looked up at them.

Heyes sat to her left, "She refused to tell us what he did or who he did it to. He didn't exactly confess to us either." He looked up at his partner.

"Were you telling the truth? Is Charles really at my house?" The men just nodded, solemnly. Slowly, she stood and wiped away the tears.

"If you tell the jury what happened with Jesse, they might go easy on you."

Without another word, she walked to the door, with a sad glance back at the men, she walked out.

Just as the door closed, another opened. Lom walked out of the closet, appearing as solemn as the two men in the room. "Ya know, bein' on this side of the law and all, I wouldn't mind running into Jesse."

"He was killed in Phoenix six months ago." Heyes said.

"Pity." Kid spoke, "I was kind of hopin' to run into him myself."


The law office was dark, the shades blocking the early morning light. Only a single lantern was lit as Charles worked to put his belongings in a box. He barely acknowledged the outlaws as they walked in.

"Charles, what are you doing?" Heyes asked.

"Going home. My pa moved us to Denver right after my Ma died; he always wanted me to work for him in the fields."

Kid kept him from putting a book in the box. "You can't quit."

Glancing up at the outlaw, they could see the tears that threatened to betray the young man. "My secretary robbed the bank. She lied to me and I believed her. I believed she was a good person, I believed that she loved…. I'm not cut out for this."

"Charles, there's more to what happened with Sandy than you know. Talk to our friend Lom, he'll fill you in. Sandy needs you now more than she ever has."

"She needs a hero. She's never had one, and she's been hurt because of it. You said your ma told you to speak for the mute, see for the blind, and defend the defenseless, right?" Heyes asked.

"Yes." He spoke, cautiously.

"I'm pretty sure she would also want you to help the helpless. That's what Sandy is right now and only you can help her."

"I just don't know."

"You can't quit." Heyes sat on the corner of the desk. "Look, she's a liar – a good one at that. But so am I, so is the Kid. You still took a chance on us, why?"

"You'd gone straight."

"Is that the only reason?"

"No, every defendant has a right to counsel."

"Exactly." Kid interjected. "That includes Sandy, now doesn't it?"

"I guess so."

"You know so." Heyes stood back up. "You have to take care of her for us, we're counting on you."

Charles looked up, surprised, "You aren't leaving are you? You're out on bail. You gave me your word!"

The boys looked at each other, then back at Charles. "That attorney-client privilege, does that mean we can say whatever we want to you and you have to keep it a secret?" Heyes leaned in.

"Yes."

"The truth is Heyes and me haven't just gone straight. The governor of Wyoming has offered us an amnesty. Thing is, we have to prove we deserve it first."

"And try not to get arrested in the meantime." Heyes added.

"Our friend Lom has been helping us. But if we get extradited back to Wyoming, or are convicted here, we'll go to prison for twenty years."

"So you see Charles, we can't stay."


As they walked out of the law office, Lom met them in the street. Behind him, they saw the Sheriff looking their way, a portly man just to his right. "Boys, I just finished talking with both the judge and Sheriff Hinds."

"And?" Heyes asked.

"My old friend Bruce Chisolm is an old friend of both. Hinds has decided to spend the rest of the day in his office. He also can't seem to remember what names you were using when you first came into town."

"What about Sheriff Cooper?"

"A telegraph came in from the Governor this morning, said he needed to meet with him in Cheyenne. He was on the 8 o'clock train."

Kid smiled, "Thanks Lom, we appreciate it."

"I also talked to the bank about Sandy. They still plan to press charges, being her second time stealing and all. But they agreed to request the lightest sentence possible, due to the circumstances with Jesse. Mr. Taylor has already started working on a deal to present to Charles."

"Would you mind hanging around for a bit, make sure she is alright?"

"I don't mind at all. In fact, I've sent a wire to Franklin already; there is both a room and a job waiting for Sandy's ma here in Omaha."

"What kind of job?" Kid asked.

"Seamstress for the local dress maker. It won't make up for what Jesse did to her daughter, but at least it's a start."

"We appreciate it." Heyes tried to smiled, but the pangs of guilt still plagued him nonetheless.

"Heyes, you aren't responsible for what he did, none of us are."

"I know." He lied.

"Oh, while Bruce was talking with Hinds, I managed to slip these out." In his hands, he held the lock picks.

Heyes took the bag and opened it, all were accounted for. "I didn't think I'd ever see these again."

"I better not, or at least not in the hands of a sheriff." He snickered. "You two should probably head on out, before Hinds changes his mind."

With firm handshakes, each man made their way to the livery, to their horses, and toward the sun.