Kid Curry propped the Henry rifle up against a tree trunk and drew his handgun. For the second time that morning he made sure each of the six chambers was loaded then placed it firmly back into its holster. Angling the rifle over his shoulder he made his way through the trees, treading silently, his eyes watchful for any game that might contribute to their supper.
Heyes had been correct in his prediction that there would be jerky for breakfast. Jerky and nothing else, except coffee. The two of them must have made a pretty poor sight sitting by the stove while chewing on a strip of jerky until their jaws ached. Even the dog had only chewed a couple of times before spitting out the offending piece of dried meat and sniffing at it dubiously, then repeating the process several times until he considered it was palatable enough to swallow.
Four paws padded softly over the forest floor. Nose close to the ground the dog's senses were bombarded with the scent of all manner of creatures but he couldn't find the right one — yet.
Kid turned to watch his canine companion as he meandered back and forth. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to just rest a spell while he waited for the dog to pick up a trail. Finding a relatively dry spot he sat down and leant back against a tree with the rifle resting across his knee. Despite a relatively good night's sleep his head was just starting to nod when a loud bark followed by the sound of growling roused him. The dog was standing next to the trunk, stiff and alert, looking at something.
"What is it fella?"
The dog bared its teeth and the growling increased in volume.
Kid watched the dog back up a little then he heard the undergrowth rustle and grinned. "If that's Heyes, I wouldn't start snarlin' if I was you," he cautioned. "He wouldha knocked your namesake out cold if he'd ever gone that far and I can't guarantee he wouldn't do the same thing to you."
Loud barking replaced the growling.
Kid sighed and, leaning a little on the rifle, began to pull himself up from the ground. "What the—?"
He didn't get to finish his question as, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the large curved claws of a bear as it lunged around the tree. Diving to his left Kid dropped the rifle, his right hand instinctively finding his Colt. Despite his speed the dog had still managed to place itself between him and the bear, jumping up and down and barking furiously to try and distract it, while dodging the large paws as they swung through the air.
From his position on the forest floor the gunman lined up his shot but Wheat's continuous movement in front of him meant that the dog was always in the way. Not wanting to risk hitting him by mistake, Kid yelled, "Back off, Wheat!" and much to his surprise the dog did as it was told.
With Wheat gone the bear charged and Kid fired two shots before the bear dropped to the ground.
The dog was soon back sniffing and pawing at the warm black pelt. His gun still in his hand Kid took a steadying breath before ambling over to ensure that the bear was, in fact, dead. Crouching down, he patted the dog's head affectionately.
"Thanks, fella, you saved my life. I guess now we're even."
Golden brown eyes looked intently at Kid and a warm, pink tongue licked his hand.
Back at the cabin Hannibal Heyes raised his eyes to the heavens and prayed that the grey clouds overhead would not deliver any more rain. Then, swinging the axe above his head, he brought it down in one swift movement cleaving the log in two. He had just picked up one of the pieces when he heard two gunshots echo through the forest. Pausing, he smiled to himself. If nothing else, they would have fresh meat for supper. It therefore came as a surprise when, after hearing another shot, he did not see his partner again for another hour and, when he did eventually appear, he only had a single rabbit grasped in his hand.
"That all you got?"
"Yep." Kid sighed, throwing the rabbit down on the tree stump that Heyes had been using as a splitting block.
"But, I heard three shots. Thought you were gonna come back here with your hands full."
"Oh, they'd have been full alright... if I'd brought back the bear."
"Bear?!"
"Yeah. Wheat here saved me from gettin' my head bit off by a big black one. Took two shots to bring him down."
Heyes grinned eagerly. "Should we go back and get the pelt? We could maybe sell it in the next town."
"It looked full of mange to me, Heyes. Don't think it would be worth the effort."
Heyes shrugged and turned his attention to the dog sitting at Kid's feet. "Well, I guess you've earned yourself some supper, fella," he said as he pulled his knife from the hidden slot in his boot and, picking up the rabbit, proceeded to skin and clean it. Wheat's eyes didn't leave Heyes as he waited for the scraps he knew would be discarded.
During his walk through the forest Kid had also managed to find some wild onions and a few mushrooms which gave the stew extra flavour, and Heyes had thickened the gravy by crumbling into it some pieces of hard tack he had found lurking at the bottom of his saddlebags. The three of them made short work of the rabbit stew.
While the ex-outlaws drank their coffee Wheat lay in front of the stove contentedly licking his paws.
Thoughtfully, Heyes regarded the dog for a moment then glanced sideways at his partner. Taking a deep breath, he ventured, "You know, Kid, I don't think Wheat here could have been in that river for very long otherwise he'd be dead for sure. We should ask around at the next town, see if anyone's missing a big, hairy cur."
"Mmmm."
"You said yourself you think he's a hunting dog. Whoever took the time to train him has probably been out there looking for him."
"Mmmm."
Noticing a far-away look in his partner's eyes Heyes said, "He can't stay with us. Y' do know that, don't ya? If we can't find out who he belongs to we'll just have to find someone else who wants to keep him."
The Kid pulled his knees in toward his chest and stared into his coffee cup. "What if I'm that someone?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Aw, Jed, you know you can't." Heyes spoke softly through a sad smile. "The first time we're chased by some posse or bounty hunter he's gonna get left behind, maybe even shot or trampled in the chase. Anyway, we can barely feed ourselves half the time, let alone a dog. He'll be much better off on a farm where he's looked after, not trailing around between here and No-wheres-ville with the likes of us."
"I guess." Kid murmured and, as he raised his eyes to meet Heyes', his cousin briefly glimpsed the young boy he hadn't seen for twenty years.
The Curry family had always had a dog, often more than one, mostly because Kid's older brothers kept finding stray pups and bringing them home. Their Pa, although strict with a growing number of children to keep under control, had a soft spot when it came to his youngest son and often let Jed choose which one should stay.
Heyes didn't need to be reminded how much Kid missed having a home and a family but he silently reproached himself for also not realizing how much he might miss owning a dog. He stood up, giving Kid's shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he did so.
"One day," he said simply before grabbing an armful of wood and proceeding to stoke up the stove for the night.
Kid nodded solemnly. "When we've got the amnesty."
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
Despite a little overnight rain dawn the next day was fine and clear and, as all their gear was now dry, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry decided to skip breakfast and make an early start. Their need for a bath, a hearty meal and a comfortable bed, not to mention a store where they could replenish their supplies outweighing their need for a few tedious mouthfuls of beef jerky.
Riding along the trail in the early morning, the surrounding countryside looked as if it had been washed clean by the rain. The air felt cool and fresh and every colour, from the green of the grass to the yellow of the sandstone rocks, sparkled in the sunlight.
Initially the trail kept to higher ground but as the morning wore on it began to dip until they once more arrived beside the fast-flowing river. The partners were relieved to see that it had still kept to its course.
Wheat trotted over to stand on the edge of the bank.
"Hey, c'mon," called Heyes. Golden brown eyes stared at the raging waters and the dog began barking.
Kid Curry swung his horse around. "If'n you fall in, I'm not gonna fish you out again," he grumbled.
Heyes let loose a piercing whistle. When there was no reaction whatsoever from the dog, he yelled in frustration, "Dammit, Wheat, c'mon!" Having been leader of the Devil's Hole Gang he still expected his orders to be carried out immediately.
"Yeah, c'mon Wheat, you're holding everyone up!" At the sound of Kid's voice the dog's head whipped around and he hurried over to join the two riders.
Looking at his cousin's almost petulant expression, Kid asked through a laugh, "What's eatin' you?"
"That darn dog. He ignores what I say, but he does exactly what you tell him." Heyes' frown deepened as his cousin's laughter continued.
"I guess you named him real good, Heyes, 'cause Wheat Carlson never did anythin' you told him to neither."
A little after noon they stopped at a creek to water the horses and eat the last of their supplies.
Sitting with his back against a boulder Kid threw a stick for Wheat to chase which the dog did with great enthusiasm, bringing it back each time and dropping it on the ground, ready to go again. Kid paused from time to time to hold out a piece of his jerky. The dog quickly devoured each small chunk.
"How far do you figure to the next town?"
Hannibal Heyes held his strip of jerky between his teeth, pulled a wad of paper from his inside pocket and unfolded a large piece of creased, yellowing paper. Biting off another mouthful he chewed ponderously as he smoothed out the roughly-drawn map on the ground and traced a line across it with his index finger.
Glancing around to confirm their position Heyes eventually said, "I figure we should be in Calhoun by tonight. We're about here." He tapped the map and took another pull on what was left of his strip of dried beef.
Kid finally swallowed the piece he had been chewing for the past five minutes and tossed what remained in his hand to Wheat who caught it with a loud snap of his jaws. "I hope that old map is right, Heyes or all three of us are gonna be real hungry."
"Stop worrying, Kid. That old prospector in Pike Creek gave me his word it was accurate. Said he'd used it plenty of times."
Blue eyes blinked sceptically. "Pfftt. His word, huh? If it's that good how come he was willin' to part with it? And for only two bits."
Having finished his scrap, Wheat licked his teeth and looked expectantly at Heyes.
"Look, we don't even have to cross the river. All we have to do is head for that ridge over there and keep it on our right." Heyes' hand, which held his remaining piece of jerky, waved absently in the air causing Wheat to tense in anticipation as he readied himself to catch it, but the dog could only watch in dismay as Heyes stuffed it in his mouth and folded up the map.
Having the dog with them meant progress was a little slower than usual but that did not bother the riders too much, and they had been happily jogging along a nice even trail for about an hour when Heyes' sorrel mare suddenly shied and began sidestepping nervously along the track.
"Whoa, girl," gentled Heyes. "What is it?"
"Knowing that mare o' yours, it don't have to be anythin'," grumbled Kid.
Under Heyes' steady hand the sorrel soon settled down and they continued on their way but had not gone more than half a mile when the mare gave two small bucks. This time it took Heyes a bit more effort to settle her and Kid Curry reined in his gelding to give him some space. He leant on his saddle horn and watched his partner raise his hands and shoulders in a shrug while the animal danced along sideways beneath him.
Another mile or two was covered without incident until suddenly the sorrel threw up her head and squealed, jumping so violently that only Heyes' considerable riding skills stopped him from being dumped sideways into a large muddy puddle. Thinking his mare might have been bitten by a rattlesnake Hannibal Heyes quickly twisted in his saddle looking anxiously at the ground around them.
Pointing at the dog he looked quizzically at Kid. "Did he just bite my horse?"
"Doubt it, Heyes. It could have been a snake. I didn't see one mind, but that don't mean she ain't been bit. You'd better check her out."
Determined to keep a close eye on Wheat from now on Heyes dismounted with a huff and gently ran his hand down each of his horse's legs feeling for heat and looking for any sign of blood. Not finding anything amiss he placed his left boot back in the worn leather stirrup and had barely begun to swing his other leg over the saddle when his horse threw up her head and bolted down the track.
Out of the corner of his eye Kid caught sight of the dog as it snapped at the sorrel's hock. "Stop that!" he shouted and the dog slunk away to hide behind a large snowberry bush.
Regaining control of his mount was relatively easy but Heyes was struggling with his temper as he trotted back to his partner. "I knew it was him!" he said, his voice tight. "Why would he want to go and do a thing like that? I don't see him biting at your horse."
"Probably knows mine will kick out."
"Oh, she'll kick out alright, if I strap on my spurs."
It had taken considerable time and effort to stop the skittish sorrel from kicking out at everything and nothing. He'd even had to make it a habit to ride with slick heels since the day he bought her as the slightest touch of a spur would send her crazy.
Heyes caressed his horse's neck as if to reassure her that he wouldn't really put his spurs on. "Keep that hound away from her, Kid, 'cause if he bites her again, I may just put a bullet in him."
"Aaaww now—."
"I don't want her unsettled. Heck, I have to keep my legs away from her sides most of the time as it is." Heyes pulled his hat down low over his eyes in disgruntled-outlaw-leader-fashion. "I mean it, Kid, I will shoot him," he growled, then with barely a flick of his split reins he headed off down the track.
Kid Curry sighed and, as he followed his irate cousin's dust, he whistled to the dog and pointed to the ground next to his gelding's left foreleg. "Wheat, here!" he commanded and that was exactly where Wheat stayed.
Heyes didn't say another word for a couple of hours but, as the dog behaved itself, his dark mood began to lift. When they eventually stopped to rest on the shore of a small lake he watched thoughtfully as Wheat lapped at the cool water alongside the two horses.
"Y' know, Kid, I've been thinking. We figure Wheat here has been trained to hunt, right? So, he's gotta be used to being around horses. Now... everything was fine this morning when we left the cabin; it's only since we stopped to eat that he's been causing trouble. Something must have riled him at the creek or on the trail since then but I'm darned if I can figure out what it is."
Kid Curry finished checking the ties on his bedroll and leant against his horse's rump trying to think what could have caused Wheat to become aggressive.
"It's a mystery, alright. Let's see... you looked at the map... I threw the stick... we ate the last of our jerky... I gave him some of mine and..." Kid smirked. "Heyes, did you give him any of yours?"
"Huh?"
"Did you give Wheat any of your jerky, like I did?"
"Of course I did."
"You sure about that?"
"Well, I..." Heyes brow wrinkled as he tried to recall if he had saved any of his paltry lunch for the dog.
The blond's grin widened. "Betcha didn't. No wonder he's pickin' on you. He probably don't take too kindly to one of his trail buddies not sharin'."
Heyes rolled his eyes. "Well, I can't do anything about that now, we're all out of food."
Kid Curry's hand slid into one of the deep pockets of his sheepskin jacket. "Here," he murmured, leaning in toward his cousin whilst at the same time slipping a two inch piece of jerky into his gloved hand. "I kinda put this by for him — for later. You give it to him and I bet he'll be your friend again."
"What are you passing it to me like that for? It ain't stolen!"
"He's real smart, Heyes." Kid peered surreptitiously over his shoulder at the dog before whispering, "If he sees me handin' it over then he'll know it didn't come from you."
Heyes stared steadily at his partner for a moment then he crouched down in front of the dog and held out the piece of beef. "Here you go, fella."
Wheat eyed the offering suspiciously, sniffed it long and hard, then took it gently with his front teeth and, after a couple of chews, swallowed it in one gulp.
"Friends again?" A long, wet tongue snaked over Heyes' glove in reply.
"See, it don't take much to make him like ya," laughed Kid. "C'mon, let's make tracks and get to this town before they stop servin' supper. I'm starving!"
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
The small town of Calhoun had never quite made its mark as part of the Utah mining boom. Silver had been discovered nearby but there was not a great deal of it and what little there was proved to be of poor quality. This did not deter the more hardy residents, however, who refused to allow a lack of the precious metal to turn it into a ghost town and had worked doggedly to establish a successful supply-post serving the more lucrative mining towns further north.
Evening was fast approaching by the time Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry rode down Calhoun's short main street. Despite its size, the town appeared to have everything they needed as well as missing one thing they didn't — a Sheriff's office. The partners exchanged a meaningful look and smiled. Dismounting outside the one and only hotel they grabbed their bedrolls and saddlebags and strode inside.
The hotel lobby was dark and dingy with peeling paint on the walls and a carpet that had seen better days. Neither man thought anything of it. They had seen worse and the prospect of a proper bed for the night, even one with questionable sheets, was still appealing. Anyway, with so little money between them they would have to settle for what they could get.
Heyes gave the brass counter bell an enthusiastic thump, summoning the desk clerk.
"We'd like a room for tonight, please. Second floor, overlooking the street, if possible."
The clerk consulted his register. "One night...that'll be a dollar... but you'll have to share the bed. Oh, it's plenty big enough," he added hastily having caught Kid's frown.
"One bed will be fine," said Heyes, "but a dollar isn't. Make it six bits and we'll skip breakfast." Kid's frown deepened as his partner picked up the pen to sign the register only to have the clerk yank it out of his hand and point a long bony finger past the two men.
"Er...is...is that thing with you?"
Heyes and Curry turned simultaneously to see Wheat sniffing around the lobby floor. Kid clicked his fingers and the dog hurried over to sit next to his leg.
"Is there a problem?" Although Kid's tone was light there was a look about the man that the clerk found disconcerting; nevertheless he took a deep breath and steadfastly announced, "We don't allow dogs. They bring vermin."
Blue eyes flickered around the run-down lobby. "You're worried about vermin?"
"Yessir, vermin."
Heyes' eyes conveyed a subtle warning to his partner before he ventured, "I don't suppose you'd care to make an exception, would you... just for one night?" Having no spare cash with which to attempt a bribe, he tried a disarming smile instead.
"No, sir. It's hotel policy. No dogs. No exceptions."
Heyes' smile faded fast. "What do you propose we do with him then? Leave him tied to the hitching rail all night?"
"That's not my problem," replied the clerk closing the register with a thud.
Heyes jerked his head toward the door but not before he had given the clerk a disparaging look. He marched out into the gathering twilight closely followed by his partner and their canine problem.
"Well, that's dandy! What we gonna do now?" griped Kid.
Heyes looked up and down the street. "There's always the livery stable."
"We're not gonna sleep in there!"
"Not 'we', Kid — just one of us — with the dog." Brown eyes blinked innocently.
"You're gonna suggest we flip a coin, aren't you?"
Not fazed by the icy glint which was beginning to form in his cousin's eyes, Heyes quickly produced a silver dollar.
Kid shook his head. "Uh-uh...we'll use my coin," he stated whilst extracting from his vest pocket the quarter he had 'put away for an emergency'. "Call it!"
Exactly ten seconds later Hannibal Heyes once again thumped the brass counter bell.
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
The evening was still young when a mud-splattered pair of brown boots with tan jeans tucked into them made their way into the dimly lit saloon and ambled over to a long plank set across four large barrels which served as a bar. The bartender greeted the wearer with a friendly smile.
"Beer, please." Heyes placed a dime on the roughly hewn wood. "Any food on tonight?"
"Sure, for two bits we got mutton stew and boiled potatoes, or there's cold ham and cheese. Take yer choice."
"Thanks, I will, but I'll wait for my partner. He'll be along soon."
Heyes picked up his beer and took a long swallow. A quick look around the room when he walked in had told him all he needed to know about the saloon. The place was small and quiet — just a few people drinking and one or two eating. The big disappointment was that there was no poker being played. That's probably for the best, he thought, a hint of a smile crossing his lips. We need our money for supplies. If I lost even half of it the Kid would shoot me for sure.
Several minutes passed before the familiar sound of Kid Curry's footsteps sounded on the wooden floor behind him together with the not so familiar click of the dog's claws.
"Everything alright, Thaddeus?" Heyes asked, reaching into his pocket for another dime as his cousin signalled to the barman to pour him a beer.
Kid set his hat low over his eyes and cast a sideways glare at Heyes from under the brim. "See you got yourself a shave and changed your shirt," he said through tight lips. "I didn't have time what with rubbing down our horses and fetchin' them feed and water."
Heyes eyes twinkled as he regarded his partner's three-day stubble and dusty clothes before asking, "Livery owner closing up early, huh?"
"No. He said me and Wheat could only sleep there if I tended to the horses myself. It's costin' us a whole dollar for stablin' just 'cause I'm takin' up another stall! That's more'n you're payin' for that hotel room of yours."
"Yeah, well, there are four of you. Anyway, I'm not so sure I've got the best deal... sleeping in that hotel. The Brown Palace it ain't! You'll probably be more comfortable over there in the stable."
Kid raised an eyebrow. "Wanna trade?"
"No!" Heyes' response was swift. "The last thing I wanna do is deprive you of a good night's sleep."
"You're all heart, Joshua."
Heyes smiled at his cousin's sarcasm and slapped him on the back dislodging a cloud of dust, not to mention numerous stalks of straw, and almost spilling his beer. "Now you've worked up an appetite, how 'bout some mutton stew?"
"Sounds good."
"Bartender...two large bowls of your stew and potatoes, please."
"Make that three bowls," corrected Kid.
"Three? Heck, I know you're hungry but... two's a lot, even for you."
"One's for him." Kid nodded at Wheat who sat patiently at his feet.
"Oh, yeah. Him." Heyes grimaced. "One bowl for each of us and some in — well, whatever you got that you don't mind being slobbered over— for him," he said pointing at the floor.
The bartender peered over the bar at the large scruffy hound and frowned. "Ain't that the Welby dog?"
"The Welby dog?"
"Yeah. Sure looks like him. Sheriff Welby, he's got a huntin' dog just like that."
Kid's stomach lurched while Heyes asked croakily, "Sheriff Welby?" The ex-outlaws exchanged an uneasy look.
"Real nice fella, family man too. He's been Sheriff over in Linwood gettin' on fer...," the two ex-outlaws found themselves holding their breath while the barman paused to think, "...let me see... must be gettin' on five years. From what folks say, the place was overrun by a bunch of real ornery desperados but he done turned it right around. Runs a nice, peaceable, law-abidin' town now."
Heyes forced a humourless smile. "That's good to hear," he said, trying to sound sincere. "Uh, exactly where is Linwood?"
"About a day's ride south o' here."
Kid took a gulp of beer then wiped the foam off his top lip with the back of his hand. "I guess it could be his dog. We found him a few days ago. He'd fallen in the river during the rains. Almost drowned hisself. Been taggin' along with us ever since."
"Well, if he is the Welby dog I'm sure the Sheriff would be mighty grateful to get him back. His boy Louis, now him and that dog are inseparable. Can't say fer sure boys, but...there could be re-ward in it fer ya." The bartender left them staring silently after him while he stepped into the kitchen.
Despite the mention of a reward Heyes moved to one of the nearby tables, slowly sank down into a seat and put his head in his hands. "A Sheriff's dog," he groaned quietly. "You had to go and rescue a Sheriff's dog."
Without a word Kid Curry slumped down into an adjacent chair and stared dejectedly at his half empty beer glass.
"Here y' are, boys!" Both men started. So caught up were they contemplating the fact that the dog belonged to a lawman that neither had noticed the bartender approach. Two steaming bowls of stew and potatoes were placed before them on the table together with two spoons.
"Thanks," said Heyes, tossing a selection of coins onto the man's tray. Another bowl was placed on the floor at Kid's feet for Wheat. The ravenous dog fell upon his meal which disappeared in less than a minute.
Ignoring his lurching stomach Kid reached for a spoon. Heyes knew that he should be hungry too but just couldn't seem to find his appetite. He tried his best to eat but barely managed about half of his meal before surrendering the remainder to his ever-hungry partner who, in turn, shared it with Wheat.