The discussion about whether to go after the remaining gold continued on and off for the next two days. Heyes persevered with his argument that the Apaches, for fear of reprisals by the army, would have returned to the reservation or moved out of the area by now. Kid Curry was not convinced. Not only did he have a desire to reach old age he was quite fond of his blond curls and did not like the idea of them hanging as a trophy from a brave's war lance. However, in the end Heyes' doggedness wore him down and early on the third day they packed in some supplies including two new shovels courtesy of the general store, saddled up their horses, and headed off into the hills.

"So, you can read that map without any explanation from Caroline, can ya?" queried Curry cynically, only taking his eyes off the surrounding area for the two seconds it took to glance at his partner. These scrub-covered hills all looked the same to him as did every site drawn on Caroline's map.

Heyes smiled confidently. "Sure I can. We'll ride out to where we found the first cache and work our way round from there. It'll be the easiest money we've made since we went straight."

"You said the same thing last time, Heyes, and it wasn't. We spent a night tied up, not knowin' if we'd see another day. Remember? If it hadn't been for Mister Fielding being there and him being able to speak a language those Apaches could understand we'd probably have been... Well, I don't like to think too long about what mighta happened. Kinda turns my stomach."

"Stop worrying, Kid. We'll be fine."

Later that day they arrived at the place where, on their previous visit, they had dug up the first cache of gold dust. Dismounting, Heyes took the map from his breast pocket and after roughly orienting the piece of paper with a stream and the surrounding hills he crouched down, placed it on the ground and weighed each corner down with a stone.

"You gonna come take a look?" he asked, peering up at the Kid who had remained firmly in his saddle.

"Don't need to. You're the one who said he could read Caroline's map."

Heyes let out a long-suffering sigh and pointed to the missing bottom right hand corner. "Well, this part, this is where we are now. And here," he pointed to the upper left hand side, "this is where the gold is."

"Uh-huh."

"Don't you want to know where we're going?"

"You go right ahead and figure it out. I'll keep watch for Apaches."

"You're wasting your time. They'll be long gone."

"That's what you keep sayin', Heyes, but I'll just keep lookin'."

Hannibal Heyes traced a route with his finger. "If we head over that way — east, I think — between those two hills," he pointed to his left, "the first cache can't be more than another day's ride away."

"That way, huh?" Kid nodded in the direction Heyes had indicated then squinted toward the sun. "Yep, that's east alright. You sure you wanna do this?"

"Sure, I'm sure."

"I still say we could be riding straight into an Indian camp, or worse — a war party."

"Jeez, Kid, what's gotten into you?" Heyes asked as he folded up the map. "You're as jumpy as a cat in a room full of rockers."

"I can't begin to think why that would be, Heyes... Oh, yeah, it could have somethin' to do with those missing scalps back at Apache Springs," came his cousin's sarcastic reply.

"But, we haven't seen any sign of an Apache all morning!"

"It don't mean they ain't out there."

Shaking his head at his partner's unrelenting scepticism Heyes stowed the map safely in his pocket, swung himself back into the saddle and kicked his horse into a lope. Curry, on the other hand, took a moment to carefully survey their surroundings once more before moving on.

The remainder of the day passed without incident but as nightfall approached Kid found he was even more jumpy than before. All day long he had tried to put what he had heard about Indians out of his mind but without success. He could still recall how, as a little boy back on the farm in Kansas, he had sat hugging his knees wide-eyed and open-mouthed, listening to his two older brothers tell lurid tales of Comanche raids on unsuspecting Texas homesteaders. He could even picture the look of horror on his cousin's face as he recounted the stories to Heyes the following morning on the way to school. The fact that they had been freed unharmed by their native captors the last time they were here, made no difference to the way he felt. He still believed a greater part of those gruesome tales to be true.

"Can't wait to get a good fire going," Heyes said with a shiver as he gathered up handfuls of dry grass and twigs. The sun's absence was making the air temperature drop rapidly.

"I was figurin' on a small one. We don't want to be seen too easily."

Brown eyes rolled. "You still harpin' on about Indians?"

"Yeah, and I'm gonna keep 'harpin' on' about them until we get outta these hills. You always say you like it when I worry, Heyes, well it don't sound like you're appreciating it right now."

"Oh, I am, Kid, I really am," Heyes replied with as much sincerity as possible.

"I think we should take two hour watches," opined the blond pulling a fallen branch from beneath a tree and breaking it into more manageable pieces under his boot.

"Now that I don't appreciate! How about every four hours?"

"Uh-uh. It's easier to stay awake for two hours at a time. We can't afford to get complacent."

"Complacent! That's a fancy word — for you." Heyes struck a match. The kindling flared momentarily, as did his partner's eyes.

"I know plenty of fancy words. I just don't see the need to use 'em all the time."

The crown of the black hat quickly dipped in Kid's direction in order to hide the wearer's amusement. "You wanna flip a coin to see who takes first watch?" Heyes asked innocently as he placed a few small branches into the developing flames.

"Don't bother gettin' that bogus coin of yours outta your pocket, Heyes. I'll go first."

After completing the first watch Kid Curry roused his sleeping partner and once he was certain that Heyes was sufficiently awake, allowed his own tiredness to overcome him. He could not have been asleep for more than an hour when a sound invaded his subconscious enough to have his eyes open in a flash and his gun in his hand.

"Jeez, Kid, what the devil did you do that for!" complained a bleary-eyed Heyes.

"Did you hear that?" Kid strained to see beyond the faint glow of the dying camp fire. Being used to sleeping out of doors he was well acquainted with the sounds of the night, but right now he was trying to decide whether that call had really come from a spotted owl, or from somebody imitating one.

"Hear what? The owl?"

"You sure it was an owl?"

A flicker of doubt momentarily crossed Hannibal Heyes' face but still he refused to be drawn into Kid's negative mindset. "Sounded like one to me," he confirmed, confidently.

Hoot, hoot, hoot.

The Colt remained aimed into the darkness. "Well, I ain't so sure."

"Don't go shooting at nothing; that'll bring those Apaches you seem to think are out there straight to our camp."

Kid frowned. "When have I ever shot at nothin'?"

"Well, there was this one time... Okay, never," corrected Heyes quickly before his partner could start getting riled. "Everything's fine, Kid, go back to sleep."

The blond head shook. "Nah, I'm awake now. I'll take another watch."

Hannibal Heyes didn't need telling twice, but as he settled back against his upturned saddle and snuggled under his blankets, he found himself wondering whether his partner's caution was quite as misplaced as he had first thought. The Kid must be nervous, he reasoned, he never passes up a chance to sleep. Dammit, he hated it when Kid was nervous! Determined not to let it get to him Heyes closed his eyes. The sound of his partner methodically checking the load in his Colt, clicking through the chambers one by one, was to him as good as any lullaby. He smiled, content in the knowledge that while he slept the fastest gun in the west would be watching over him.

Dawn had barely faded the first star from the sky but already Kid Curry was up, his horse saddled and his belongings stowed behind the cantle. He had just started to bridle his partner's sorrel when Heyes opened his eyes and blinked at him sleepily.

"You're starting early," he said through a yawn.

"The sooner we get to the first site, Heyes, the closer we are to gettin' outta here. Get up, I need that saddle."

Heyes grunted in protest as the aforementioned saddle was pulled out from under his head before he'd even had time to sit up. He rubbed his eyes, recalling that Kid had not woken him for another watch. Still not fully awake he began slowly folding his blankets before rolling them up in a piece of tarpaulin.

"C'mon, c'mon!" urged his cousin.

"I'm moving as fast as I can, Kid."

Casting a belligerent look in his partner's direction Heyes knotted the second saddle string and tossed the hastily tied bundle toward a pair of waiting hands before disappearing around the far side of the nearest tree.

"At least give me a minute to do this," he complained, brown eyes peering round the trunk.

Kid vaulted into his saddle. "Yeah, well hurry up."

"You know what happens if you rush me."

"Just get on with it, will ya!"

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

The air was pure and clear, the sky a vast swathe of uninterrupted blue, and a light breeze whispered seductively amid the tall dry grasses. Kid Curry leaned forward on his saddle horn and, as the black gelding trod the course of the stream, he found himself whistling softly through his teeth in time to the rhythm of its hoof beats. He could feel his ill-temper from earlier slipping away and for the first time in days he found himself starting to relax.

Unfortunately, this feeling proved to be short-lived because, as the morning progressed, the breeze disappeared and by noon the heat had again become brutal, adding emphasis to the fact that the narrow flow of water Heyes had indicated they should follow had now dwindled to a mere trickle. The further they ventured down the dried up watercourse the more the land rose up on both sides restricting their view of the surrounding area and making it the perfect location for an ambush.

Concerned once more, Kid sat up straight in his saddle and asked, "You sure it's this way?"

"Yep."

"How far?"

"About half a mile, I'd say." Heyes glanced over his shoulder and noted the pucker in his partner's brow. "Now what's bothering you?"

"Same thing as yesterday."

Although he couldn't see them, shaded as they were deep under the brim of the dusty black hat, Kid knew Heyes had rolled his eyes.

"Look, Heyes, I appreciate your faith in me to keep us safe an' all, but those Chiricahua got the drop on us real easy before — right out in the open. What do you figure our chances are down here in this gully?"

Heyes took a more considered look at their surroundings but casually dismissed any misgivings. "We've come this far, Kid, let's keep going. We'll be outta here in no time." He added with a grin, "A whole one thousand dollars richer!"

Twenty minutes later Heyes exclaimed "There!" pulled his horse to an abrupt halt and pointed to an arrow scratched on a rock half way up the gully wall. This arrow pointed downwards to a large pile of rocks on the ground. With a whoop he leapt from his saddle and began to pull the rocks away one by one. Somewhat surprised that his partner had stayed mounted, but without bothering to turn around he griped "Are you gonna help, or are you just gonna sit there and leave me to do all the hard work?"

"Heyes."

"Oh-ho, here it is!" A burlap poke packed hard with gold dust was triumphantly held aloft.

"Heyes!"

"What?!"

Heyes turned and with a groan slowly raised his hands in the air mirroring his partner. On both sides of the gully stood a number of long-haired, buckskin-clad men. Some carried rifles, others bows and arrows, all of which were aimed in their direction.

"Apaches." Kid gave a flat, humourless smile. "Like I said."