Hannibal Heyes didn't see the men until it was too late.
He was waiting at the station, when he had a sense that something was wrong. Looking up, he saw a group of men walking towards him, their guns raised, their intent clear. He turned quickly, only to find another group of men coming from the other direction.
Desperately, he looked around him. There was nowhere to run. He was surrounded.
He hoisted his bags onto his shoulder and raised his hands. The men smiled as they came towards him. They looked predatory.
"Gentlemen."
"Hannibal Heyes."
He knew it was useless, but he had to try.
"Ah, I knew they'd been a mistake! The name's Joshua Smith. Don't feel bad, it happens all the time…"
The eldest of the men backhanded Heyes in the face. The force of the blow struck his nose and drew blood and a large ring on the man's hand cut his lip.
"You better be learning when to speak and when to be quiet, boy." He saw the angry look in the outlaw's eyes. "In fact, you better be learning a lot of things, and now's a good time to get started."
He pulled out his baton and struck Heyes hard in the stomach. The man behind him hit the back of his legs and Heyes fell to his knees, hunched over, winded from the blow. His bags fell to the floor. A series of blows landed across his shoulders and back.
The leader bent down to look at him. "We know who you are, Heyes, and we're here to take you in."
The elderly station master called out, "Hey, whatcha doin? Leave him alone!"
The older man turned to the station master. "None of your business, old man."
"You got no cause to be beating him! I saw it all, he didn't do nothin' to you!"
"This man is in my custody, I can do whatever I want. Now you best be getting out of here before you get hurt as well."
A few other people stood watching on the platform, powerless to help.
Heyes felt his assailant's breath, warm and acrid, as the man leaned into him and sneered, "Now we can be sure you ain't gonna run. But we're gonna go ahead and shackle you anyhow."
He felt the iron close around his wrists and ankles and he was pulled roughly to his feet.
"You're mine now, boy."
The journey passed in a blur of pain and discomfort. They gave him no food or water and his head started to ache from the dehydration.
He was surprised, but pleased, to find that the Kid wasn't travelling with him. Heyes had been sure that if they knew where to find him, they must know where the Kid was as well; but that couldn't be the case. If the Kid had been caught, then surely, they would be on the train together? And if they were going to try and take him after they caught Heyes, some of the men would have stayed behind.
Even if there were others that he didn't know about, he thought someone from town would ride out to the ranch and try to warn the Kid. He had to believe that they had enough friends there to ensure that, at least.
Curly was in town, picking up a mended saddle from the livery, when he saw the arrest of Hannibal Heyes. He had heard the shouts of the old conductor and witnessed the beating and his blood had run cold. He heard the whisper run through the crowd, "Hannibal Heyes! Joshua Smith is Hannibal Heyes!"
Curly was no great thinker, but it didn't take much to figure that if Joshua Smith was Hannibal Heyes, then Thaddeus Jones must be Kid Curry, and they would surely be going to capture him next.
Curly forgot about the saddle and ran to his horse, galloping all the way to the ranch.
Mary Adams was sitting on her porch drinking lemonade. As he rode into the yard, her eyebrows rose.
"Curly, whatever is the matter?"
"Mrs. Adams, I was just in town… they arrested Joshua Smith - they said he was Hannibal Heyes! I gotta tell Mr. Jones!"
Because of his relationship with Mrs. Adams, Curry had continued to be known as Mr. Jones, no matter how many times he had asked them to call him Thaddeus.
Mary looked at him thoughtfully and then walked over to stand beside him. "Curly…"
"Yes, Mrs. Adams?" His eyes searched around for Mr. Jones.
She put a hand on his shoulder and raised her watery blue eyes to his.
"Curly, do you really think he doesn't know? How do you think they knew Mr. Heyes was here?"
Curly looked at her, his jaw dropping. "He told them?"
She nodded and wiped a tear from her eye.
"He said there's another side to Mr. Heyes, a side that none of us have seen. Mr. Heyes did lead a band of ruthless outlaws, after all. Mr. Jones..." she paused and considered the name for a moment. Everyone knew now that he wasn't 'Mr. Jones', but she needed to keep up the facade a little longer.
"Mr. Jones said that Mr. Heyes has been increasingly violent, and that for some time he has been afraid of what Mr. Heyes might do. Mr. Heyes recently threatened my life," she paused as Curly gasped in horror, "and I'm afraid that was the last straw. To protect me, he decided he needed to deliver Mr. Heyes to justice once and for all."
Curly considered this. He didn't think a lady like Mrs. Adams would lie, and how would they have known where Heyes was if someone didn't tell them? Joshua always seemed just as nice as could be, but she was right, he did lead the Devils Hole Gang…
Another thought occurred to him. "Ain't Kid Curry wanted, too?"
"Yes, Curly, he was. But to reward him for his good deed, the governor is going to grant him amnesty. Do you know what that is?"
Curly shook his head.
"It means that all his crimes will be forgiven and he can start afresh. But please don't mention it to anyone, it's not official yet."
Curly digested that for a few minutes. She was sure she could hear him trying to think.
"But ain't he killed people?"
She shook her head in disappointment at his comment. "They were all fair fights, Curly; there were witnesses. It was only because he ran for help to Hannibal Heyes that he became involved with stealing." She looked at him seriously. "A man may be called upon to use his skills with a gun to defend himself, but there is no justification for stealing from innocent men and women, and Mr. Jones is sorry for what he has done."
Curly nodded. If she said it was so, then she must be right.
"Joshua sure did seem like a nice fella."
"I believe that is often the way with men like that."
Curly turned to leave and she stopped him.
"Curly, will you do something for me?"
He nodded. "Of course, Mrs. Adams."
"Will you tell the other men to say nothing? This has been a very traumatic time for Mr. Jones and it would be upsetting for him to hear it spoken of. I would be upset as well. Very upset. I don't think I could continue to employ a man who was so… insensitive."
Curly was surprised. That almost sounded like a threat. He shook his head. Of course Mrs. Adams wouldn't threaten anyone. She was just the nicest lady he'd ever met.
When Heyes arrived in Wyoming, he was pulled roughly off the train and thrown over a horse, which carried him the remaining miles to the jail that would hold him until his trial. The agony of the ride after his beating was unbearable and after the first few minutes, he passed out.
At the jail, they made completely sure that Hannibal Heyes wasn't going to escape. They kept his hands tied with rope behind his back, so there were no locks that he could pick. They untied him when he needed to eat and attend to his needs and then tied him up again.
He lay on the cot, uncomfortable, tired and in pain, sure in the knowledge that everything was about to get much, much worse.
As Curry lay in his bed in the still of the night, he thought about what Heyes had said as he was leaving.
Love ya, Kid.
Why had he said that?
He was the one leaving, not the Kid. And why did he say it then? Like that? They'd had fights like that before, disagreements that had caused one or the other to walk away, only to come back again the next day as if nothing had happened. Neither of them liked to apologize; they'd just saunter back and pretend everything was fine and dandy.
Love ya, Kid.
It sounded like...
It sounded like goodbye. A real goodbye.
It sounded final.
And Heyes hadn't been angry, which the Kid would have expected. He'd seemed almost… sad.
Yeah, that was it. Sad. Like it was killing him to leave.
But why would that be? He was the one choosing to go and he could come back at any time. Just saunter on in, push back his hat and smile that infuriating smile of his.
The words kept on replying in his head.
Love ya, Kid.
They both did, of course. Love each other, that is. But they'd never said like that, out loud. Perhaps, if they were confessing to a knowing God, they might have admitted to saying it under their breath now and then, when danger or sickness was threatening and they thought that this might just be the last moment they would have to say it.
But just to say it like that, in broad daylight, in the bright sunshine of a late summer afternoon? With no danger or sickness or threat of extinction?
Love ya, Kid.
He couldn't understand it.
He felt that there was something here he didn't know, like he was playing his hand without knowing what the cards were.
It hadn't felt like their usual arguments. It felt… final. He remembered the bad feeling he'd had as Heyes rode away.
Maybe he should send a telegram asking Soapy to let him know when Heyes arrived? He rolled over in the bed and groaned. He was just being ridiculous, and Heyes would only laugh at him and his misgivings. Heyes was a grown man, he would be just fine, and if he wasn't, Soapy would let him know. Heyes would be back in a month or two, and until then, Kid would enjoy spending his time with Mary.
Love ya, Kid.
He wished he'd said it back.
Heyes slept badly, and it felt as though he had only just fallen asleep, when he was woken by an unfamiliar voice.
"Hannibal Heyes, we meet at last!"
Heyes struggled to sit up. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."
The other man chuckled. "Indeed I do! And I have since we first made our agreement."
Heyes felt a ripple of shock run through him. "Governor Hamilton."
"Yes."
He tried to be hopeful, but the governor's manner was not that of a man about to grant him his freedom. Nevertheless, he ventured, "The amnesty?"
The governor smiled. "Do you know I couldn't believe it when Sheriff Trevors approached me about that? Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry would cease to be outlaws, and all I had to do was promise them an amnesty. Did you really think I was serious?"
"You gave us your word!"
"Who would believe you? The words of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry against that of the governor of Wyoming!"
"Lom Trevors knew about it."
"A reformed outlaw. His word would be little better than yours. No, Mr. Heyes, that wouldn't have helped you."
"So why arrest me now? Why not just take us in before? There were plenty of times when you knew where we were!"
"Why bother? You weren't causing any trouble anymore. In fact, you actually proved to be helpful in certain circumstances."
"Then why now?" Heyes repeated.
The governor chuckled again. "You know, life can be funny sometimes with its twists and turns, don't you agree?"
Heyes said nothing.
"It really is the most amusing coincidence. You wouldn't know, Mr. Heyes, but I have a cousin of whom I am extremely fond." He smiled, as if at a secret joke. "She recently met a man that she wants very much to marry. The only problem is that he's a wanted outlaw and he was preparing to leave her, even though he had already compromised her virtue."
Heyes' eyes widened as he made the connection. "Mary Adams is your cousin?"
"Yes indeed, Mr. Heyes. She is very taken with your partner, but I'm afraid she didn't much care for you. It seems that you had a little too much of a hold over Mr. Curry and we couldn't have that, could we? As an added bonus, the reward will be useful when they're planning the wedding. They can be so expensive nowadays."
"The wedding?" His blood ran cold. He had never trusted her, but had thought it was just because he was jealous of her influence with the Kid. Now he wished he had said something at the time, because it looked as though he was going to marry that woman. "They can't get married, he's still an outlaw!"
The governor shook his head. "Mr. Heyes, you're not thinking clearly, are you?"
Heyes stared at him in shock. "You're going to give the Kid his amnesty?"
"I'm working on the paperwork as we speak. What's more, you're going to help. You're going to stand up in court and tell the world that Kid Curry is innocent of all crimes. He was nothing more than an accessory, riding beside you out of kinship and childhood loyalty."
Heyes flashed him a look. He wanted the Kid to get his amnesty, heaven only knew, but if the flip side of that was making it possible for him to marry Mary Adams, he'd prefer the Kid to remain an outlaw.
"No-one would ever believe that, even if I agreed to do it."
Governor Hamilton guessed his thoughts. "Ah, Mr. Heyes, people will believe what you tell them, and you WILL tell them. Let me explain why. You will be convicted, of that there is no doubt. You are undeniably guilty and you've made far too many enemies. Important enemies. Bankers, railroad magnets, oil men. Men with power and a lot of money behind them. They don't really care about the Kid, they never did. So what if he's shot a few people here and there? No-one can prove it wasn't self defense and no-one cares anyway. You were always the problem. You embarrassed them, stole their money and hurt their businesses. They want revenge. You will go to prison, Mr. Heyes. There is no escaping it."
Heyes felt sick. Prison. He'd heard things about prisons. He was an outlaw, how could he not?
The dark rooms, the locked doors. Worse than the orphanage he had hated so much. That was where he perfected the art of picking locks, locked in their room at night, or locked in the small closet as a punishment; it was his greatest fear. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He'd pick the locks and free himself or his cousin and they'd sleep side by side until Heyes' internal clock told him it was time to go back inside and turn the lock again.
He thought it would kill him to be locked away with no way to escape it. He thought he might even prefer to be dead than trapped like that. But no. He was a survivor. He would survive this.
"You will be sentenced to twenty years. Imagine that for a moment; twenty years in prison. Think what that can do to a man. Now imagine that for your cousin."
Heyes looked up in shock.
"It will make no difference to your sentence if you take responsibility for the crimes. But if you don't, Mr. Curry will be captured and made to stand trial. I can tell you that he would also receive the maximum penalty for his crimes. In fact, I can guarantee it."
"So, there are your choices. Admit to everything and exonerate him so that he can marry Mary, or condemn him to twenty years in jail. It's up to you."