Chapter 3
The Job
Heyes' first night alone in the mercantile had been a disappointment. He had searched through drawers and shelves but found nothing. The till that normally sat under the counter had been removed and secured inside of a steel safe, located in a small locked storeroom, and the key to the door and combination to the safe remained secure with the old man.
"If I could just watch him open that safe," Heyes thought to himself, "I would at least know how many turns the combination has, and maybe even see the numbers."
Wilson arrived just after sun up, and to Heyes' surprise, brought a small pail filled with bacon and biscuits. "I figured you wouldn't have a way to fix anything to eat, so you might be hungry," he said, setting the pail on the counter and heading for the storeroom.
"Thank you," Heyes said, "I sure am real hungry."
As Wilson opened the door and stooped down in front of the safe, Heyes followed.
"That was real thoughtful of you," Heyes added, standing behind Wilson and taking a bite of one of the biscuits.
Wilson grunted an acknowledgement, and then returned his focus to the safe. Heyes watched as he turned the dial first left, three turns, then right two, then left again. Wilson turned the handle and opened the safe. Heyes could see several canvas bags that he knew held the gold and silver, and stacks of paper bills. Wilson removed the cash box and opened it, checking to see that enough change was there to cover the morning's transactions. Satisfied, the older man stood and swung the door closed, giving the handle a quarter turn almost as an afterthought.
Heyes smiled. He sat down to eat his breakfast in the storeroom while Wilson returned to the front to prepare for the day. Casually sitting near the safe, he studied the safe and took note of the position of the dial. "A quarter turn to the right would put the final number at about twenty," he noted, as he reached into the pail to retrieve another biscuit and a handful of bacon. The biscuits were dry, but they were better than nothing and Heyes was hungry. The bacon tasted good, and he savored each slice. Before he finished, Wilson called for him to hurry up and get to the front of the store. An early customer had arrived and needed help loading his wagon. Heyes groaned and stuffed the last biscuit into his mouth.
The morning turned busy as farmers and townsfolk passed through the store, some making small purchases and others stocking up with staples for the next few weeks. Several of the customers had children with them, and Heyes noticed that Wilson made a point of giving each one of the children a piece of penny candy from the jar on the counter as they left. Butterscotch, Heyes remembered the flavor from trips to the general store in town with his own father years before.
As noon approached, Heyes found himself drawn to the candy jar on the counter. Surely Mr. Wilson wouldn't mind if he took one. After all, he'd brought him breakfast that morning. No sooner had he popped the orange candy into his mouth than he felt Wilson grab his shoulder.
"What?" Heyes gasped in surprise.
"I don't tolerate stealing," the man said sternly.
"But, it was just…I mean…I'm sorry," Heyes said, forcing his eyes to the floor and fighting back his desire to tell the old man that he thought he deserved at least a piece of penny candy for all the work he'd been doing.
"I'll take that out of your pay this Friday," Wilson told him, releasing his grip on his shoulder and turning back to his work.
Heyes' feelings of regret about his plans for the storekeeper's money, which had been growing since the man's kind gestures of hospitality, began to dissipate. He needed to watch Wilson open the safe one more time. That afternoon, his wish was granted. His heart leapt in anticipation when Wilson called him over and indicated a heavy bag of coins on the desk.
"Help me carry that to the safe," Wilson said, taking another bag in his own hands. Heyes picked up the bag and followed obediently. The proprietor pushed open the door to the small back room where the safe was kept. Kneeling, he began to turn the dial. Heyes stood as close as he dared and watched intently. One, two rotations left, then stop. One and a half rotations to the right, then another half to the left. Without turning the dial again, the man swung open the door and set his bag inside.
"Here you go," Heyes interjected, leaning in quickly, then apologizing for bumping the older man's shoulder and stepped back awkwardly. Wilson gave him a surprised scowl and blocked the boy's view of the inside of the safe. Heyes smiled sheepishly and dropped his eyes to the outside of the door.
"Alright, back to work then," Wilson said, swinging the door shut and spinning the dial.
Heyes' smile widened. The last number on the dial had been nineteen. The first number must be within a few notches and the middle number halfway between. He couldn't wait for an opportunity to try and find the entire combination. His opportunity came an hour later, when a customer asked for one more bag of flour than they had sitting behind the counter. I'll get another, Heyes offered quickly. Wilson nodded and turned back to the middle-aged woman standing in front of him and began to scan the rest of her list.
Heyes passed by the door to the large back storeroom and went instead into the small room where the safe was kept. Kneeling before it, he fingered the dial gently. Turning slowly to the left, he gave the dial several complete rotations, and then stopped on number fifteen. He tried several different variations until at last he felt a slight resistance before the last number. A broad smile spread across his face as he slowly turned the knob. It opened. The boy's eyes widened when he gazed on the contents of the safe. He knew business had been good at the mercantile in the short time that he'd been employed, but he'd had no idea how good. It was late fall, crops had been sold and cattle had been driven to market. Farmers and ranchers alike were purchasing new tools and stocking up on supplies for the winter. Silently, he closed the safe and walked back to door. Checking for the owner's whereabouts, he peered out cautiously. Seeing Wilson engaged in conversation with the middle-aged woman, no doubt discussing the price of the bolt of bright checkered fabric that she held in her arms, he closed the door behind him
The proprietor eyed the boy strangely when he entered the room. "Where's that bag of flour you went to fetch? Mrs. Brown doesn't have all day."
Heyes blanched, he'd been so excited to have the chance to go to the storeroom alone that he'd completely forgotten the flour he'd been sent to retrieve. "I… I forgot… I'll go get that right away," he stuttered. Wilson frowned, but nodded.
For the rest of the day, Heyes concentrated on carrying out his tasks quickly and efficiently, all the while wondering how he was going to get through the locked door to the safe for which he now knew the complete combination. Conley could shoot the lock—definitely too much noise. His eyes fell on a new axe displayed between two nails hanging on the wall. He could simply break through the door, that wouldn't make too much noise. Messy. As his mind played out the possible alternatives, he couldn't help but continue to search for a plan that would leave no trace. He remembered boys back at Valparaiso telling stories about men who could pick a lock. He had tried a few times, but had not had success. If he ever tried something like this again, he was going to have to learn a few new tricks.
The hours seemed to drag on endlessly, but at last storekeeper locked the door to the safe, and, putting on his coat, bid Heyes a good evening. The boy watched from the front window, and as soon as Wilson turned the corner, he ran to the back window and hung out his white handkerchief, just as he and Conley had planned. Now all I have to do is wait until the end of the week, he thought happily. Jed and the others will come and we'll all head out rich men. Heyes made up his bed in the storeroom and fell asleep dreaming of what he would do with the money.
0000000000
Conley and Dry Creek Jim strolled into the clearing where Bart and Jed had just finished their nightly routine of target practice. Conley hunted around until he had found most of the cans that Jed had just sent flying from the tree trunk. He picked each one up and examined it. Every can was hit dead center. Not only was the kid fast, he was accurate too. Conley shook his head and whistled softly.
"That kid's gettin' pretty good," Jim commented quietly.
"Yeah, too good," Conley added dryly.
Jim squinted. "How do you figure?"
"A kid that good with a gun is gonna want to use it. If he don't draw attention from the law, then he'll get the attention of every gunfighter in the county."
"We could use him," Jim suggested. "The other one too. You said he was working out real good."
"How long before those two want an equal share? We don't pull jobs big enough to feed the three of us as it is, and I don't plan to start robbing banks—'sides we'd need a whole gang for that."
"Didn't think of that," Jim said. "Want me to take care of 'em after the job?"
Conley considered this for a minute. "Nah, no need, we'll ride out in different directions and meet up later. I'll tell Jed and Heyes to meet us at the river fork but we'll go to Kingston instead."
"What if they tell somebody?" Jim asked, a worried look crossing his face.
Conley stared at him incredulously. "What are they going to do? Go to the sheriff and say we didn't give them their fair share from the robbery?"
Jim looked down, embarrassed. "Oh, yeah, I see your point," he mumbled.
The two men strode back to their campsite where Bart and Jed had started heating up the beans.
After dinner Conley announced that Heyes had put out the sign that the job would go off as planned the next night.
The men at the campsite broke out a bottle of whiskey for the occasion.
"Drink up, boys," Conley said after taking the first swig. "We'll have plenty more after tomorrow night."
Jed settled down next to the men and took a swallow from the bottle. It burned his throat but he was learning how to swallow slowly and control his reaction so it appeared like he'd been drinking for years. The rush hit him after a few rounds and he felt light headed. He sat back and looked up at the star-filled sky. He could hardly believe his luck. Less than a month ago he and Heyes had been on their own, not sure where their next meal was coming from, and now he was drinking whiskey and learning how to shoot a six-gun. In a few days he'd have enough money buy himself a real steak dinner and new pair of boots—maybe even a new a hat with a fancy band. He sighed and reveled in the thought.
They next day Jed and the men packed their belongings and broke camp. After dark, they rode quietly into town. Jed rode double with Bart.
When they neared the mercantile, they found Heyes waiting for them outside the building.
"I left the back window open," he reported.
"Okay, slip on in and go open the front door for me," Conley directed. "Everybody else know their job?"
Bart and Jim nodded. Jim and Jed walked the three horses to the side of the store while Bart took up a position across the street where he had a good view of the front of the store. Heyes slid open the unlocked window and dropped inside. Conley walked to the front, keeping his body against the building. In a few moments, the door opened and Conley disappeared inside.
"You go over the livery, kid. Wait 'till you see Heyes and Conley come out, then you let all the horses out. That way it'll take 'em a while to round up a posse. Keep two out for you and Heyes," he added, almost as an afterthought.
Jed opened his mouth to say he wasn't a horse thief, but thought better of is. He and Heyes could never keep up with the others on foot and if they had to ride hard, chances are the outlaws would leave them behind rather than ride double.
Jed turned and headed toward the livery. Before he reached the livery he heard a shout from in front of the store.
"Hold it right there!" a man shouted. "You ain't robbing my store!"
Jed watched as Jim ran into the street and fired a shot. Then another shot sounded and Jim fell back and hit the ground. Bart fired two shots at the man in the street, forcing him to take cover behind a wagon.
Jed ducked behind a water trough, his mind racing. He gasped when the man behind the wagon fired again and this time Bart fell to the ground. Jed raced to Bart and pulled him behind a barrel.
"Are you hit bad?" Jed asked.
"My leg," Bart answered, firing another shot toward the wagon to keep the man pinned.
"Get outta here. Take my horse."
"I ain't leaving without you," Jed said emphatically.
"Don't be a fool, kid. Those shots will have waked the whole town. I ain't ridin' anywhere with a bullet in my leg. He sighed deeply. I ain't never killed anyone—'cept in the war. I reckon they won't hang me. They'll just lock me up for a while. Might even get better food than them beans we been eatin'," he added with a grin. Jed watched as the grin turned to a grimace and the older man groaned.
Then Bart shoved his gun toward the boy's hand. "You'll need this," he said urgently.
"I couldn't take that, it's yours and-"
"Shut up," the outlaw interrupted. "You need it more than I do. Besides, they prob'ly won't let me keep it anyway," his voice trailed off.
Picking up the gun and holding it briefly, almost reverently, he aimed at the wagon the old man had taken cover behind, and fired two shots. His bullets hit the ground just in front of the wheel like Bart's had done, then raced across the street to the horses that waited anxiously. Two? Jed immediately saw that one of the animals was missing. He must have run off when the gunfight started. Although the two remaining animals shuffled nervously, they didn't look panicked. Maybe soldiers' horses, he thought, grabbing the reigns form the hitching post and swinging onto the Bart's black mare.
He heard voices shouting from down the street and another shot rang out. Jed fired a shot in return, aiming high. He could see two men running up the street and knew he was running out of time.
He grabbed the reins of Jim's gelding and raced down the street to the back of the store, hoping Heyes and Conley were there.
"Heyes," Jed called, squinting and looking for movement in the shadows.
Heyes emerged from the back door, carrying a canvas bag. He quickly jumped onto the back of the waiting horse.
"Where's Conley?" Jed asked anxiously, looking back at the store
He took off at the first sound of gunfire. Yelling something like "Every man for himself," Heyes muttered in disgust. "Took most of the money too."
Jed stared back at his friend. "You mean he didn't wait, he just took off?"
"That's what I said." Heyes kicked the horse in the flanks and took off at a run.
Jed followed.
"What happened back there in the street?" Heyes asked as soon as they had cleared the alley.
"The old shopkeeper was waiting with a rifle. Jim's dead and Bart got hit in the leg."
Heyes wrinkled his brow and glanced at Jed with apprehension. "Anybody else get hit?"
Jed shook his head. "No. That old shopkeeper was a pretty good shot. Bart coulda killed him, but it wouldn't have done no good. He gave me his gun and told me to take off."
Heyes blew out a breath with obvious relief.
"Wilson must have suspected something. I underestimated him. I won't make that mistake again."
"Heyes?" Jed asked after they'd slowed to a trot near the river. Do you think these horses we're riding were stolen?"
"We just committed armed robbery," he said with a nod toward the Colt his friend had tucked into the back of his belt. "I'm not worried about stolen horses."
"But you weren't armed," Jed said.
"Well the others were, and shots were fired. One man's dead."
The realization hit Jed in the pit of his stomach. "I fired some shots," he said slowly.
"But you didn't…" Heyes turned to search his friends face.
"No," Jed added quickly. I didn't hit anyone. I just fired some shots for cover so I could get the horses."
"If anyone gets killed during a robbery, all the men in the gang are guilty."Heyes explained.
Jed took this in and nodded slowly. "Then I reckon we better make sure that don't happen."
Heyes looked thoughtful for a minute and then said resolutely, "I reckon we will."
They guided their horses into the shallow river bed and walked upstream.
"How much you think we got away with?" Jed asked finally.
"'Bout two hundred."
"Two hundred dollars?" Jed asked, his eyes opened wide with amazement and his face brightened.
"That oughta get us a buy in to one of those card games in Dodge, don't you think?"
"It would, Jed, but I have a better idea."
"Yeah? What?"
"I'll let you know," Heyes replied with an enigmatic grin.
"Heyes, just one thing's bothering me," Jed asked, after they were riding again on open ground.
"Just one?" Heyes asked.
"It's about Conley. If he was a good leader, I'd a thought he'd a waited to see what happened to his men. Get 'em out if he could."
"Yeah, that's what a real leader woulda done," Heyes said, seeing his young friend in a new light.
I ain't no leader, Heyes," Jed replied. You'd make a good leader though," he added with sincerity.
"I was thinking, more like partner?" Heyes raised an eyebrow.
Jed smiled. "Partner'll do," he said after a moment.
"You want to let me in on those plans of yours, partner?" Jed asked, placing emphasis on the last word.
"Well, getting money outta that safe was pretty easy. I was thinking we could do it again."
Jed considered that for a moment and then nodded. "I reckon we could, 'specially now," he said, reaching his hand back to make sure the gun was securely tucked into his belt.
Heyes shifted uneasily in his saddle. "You want to tell me if you know what to do with that thing, Jed?"
"I can hit what I aim at," Jed replied smoothly.
"Heyes?" he asked a minute later.
"What?"
"Call me Kid."
The End