Disclaimer: Alias Smith and Jones does not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit.
Any references to people, places, businesses, etc. are entirely fictitious.
A/N – story presumes the details on the wanted posters are not entirely accurate.
Plan D
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Heyes was awakened by gentle tapping on the front door of the cabin. The slender man lifted his head up from the table. Dark brown eyes glanced towards Kid's bunk. The tall blond slowly rolled to one side and opened first one blue eye and then another.
"Heyes, Kid, do youse want breakfast?" called Kyle.
While Kyle had no compunction about opening the cabin door on a sleeping Heyes, none of the boys willingly barged in on a sleeping Kid. When Heyes had first returned to Devil's Hole with the Kid last year, that first night they had both stayed in the big bunkhouse down the hill with the rest of the boys. By the second night, Heyes had the leader's cabin to himself while a disgruntled Harvey Loomis was on his way to Montana or Idaho or someplace. Kid stayed in the group bunkhouse, but a stumbling man returning from a midnight trip to the outhouse awakened the young gunslinger. Heyes hadn't seen the fast draw, but everyone slept better after Kid moved into the front room of the leader's cabin that same night.
"Yeah, thanks Kyle," responded Heyes as he sat upright and blinked sleepily. He rolled his shoulders and tilted his neck first to the left and then to the right, getting the cricks out. "We'll be down in just a bit."
"Go on without me," grunted Kid, "I'm not hungry just yet."
Brown eyes snapped wide open. His cousin had been too thin when they met in Texas. While nothing specific was said, Heyes had the impression that meals weren't a regular thing for Kid back then. In Devil's Hole, the gang didn't eat fancy, but they did eat regular. Heyes was glad that the teenager had finally started filling out. The dark haired Kansan stared as Kid sat up and put his feet on the floor. One long arm reached for his red button down shirt draped over the corner post of the bunk, then reached again for his gun belt. Kid rose to stand buckling the belt over the loose black pants.
"You're not hungry?" questioned Heyes. "Where are you going?"
Blue eyes looked at the older Kansan in disbelief. Kid snorted.
"After all the water Lobo was pushing me to drink yesterday," replied Kid, "do you really have to ask?"
"No, I guess not," agreed Heyes. A brief smile of relief flashed across his face. The canteen Lobo had thrust at his cousin at the watering hole had only been the first of many throughout yesterday's long ride. The brown eyes narrowed before Heyes continued softly, "Do you need the gun to go to the outhouse?"
"No, I ain't going out without my gun," replied Kid. His face reddened. The young blond held up a broken bit of twine that Heyes recognized as having been wrapped around Kid's waist yesterday. "I need the gun belt to hold these huge britches up. Then, I need to get to the washroom and find my gray pants. Then, and only then, I'll think about breakfast."
Oh. Dimples deepened as a broad smile spread across Heyes' face. Kid's modesty might pose a problem. Heyes had been surprised last year when they left San Antonio at how quickly the teenager had been able to pack up and go. Kid only owned the shiny colt revolver and gun belt, an aging sorrel, a worn saddle with equally worn saddlebags, the clothes he wore, and another set rolled up in his bedroll. Over the past year, Heyes had continually urged his younger cousin to get more clothes, warmer clothes especially, for the Wyoming environment, but Kid was saving for a new pistol. Somewhere the blond had read that Colt manufacturing company had a new model revolver in test trials. If the sorrel hadn't finally died of old age, Heyes doubted that Kid would have bought the big black gelding. Clothes remained last on Kid's priority list until the first snow. Then Kid broke down and bought two pairs of red woolen longjohns.
"Kid, Preacher has your gray pants rolled up in your bedroll, wherever that is," replied Heyes. "But I think we should get you some more clothes on our next visit to Wildwood."
-x-x-x-x-x-x
Breakfast, which had been more of a midday meal, was now long over. Wheat pulled out a deck of cards while Kyle cleared the table. Kid declined to play. Heyes watched in concern as the gunslinger returned to the leader's cabin for an afternoon nap. Kid had a strong constitution. The dark haired man hadn't seen his cousin injured or ill since he was a boy.
"A body does its best healing while sleeping," reminded Lobo.
"How long?" asked Heyes.
"Kid needs to take it easy for at least a couple of weeks," answered Lobo. "Maybe longer. Watch the way he moves, you'll know."
Not for the first time, Heyes wondered, where had Lobo learned so much about healing? While all the gang kept a close watch on the Devil's Hole supply of whiskey and coffee, the shaggy haired man was always the one to remind Heyes of the need to keep up a stock of willow bark, quinine and soap. Most of the money they stole went for supplies. Lobo's constant reminder that hygiene was important was part of why the gang had a separate washhouse building. Earlier that year, Heyes had overseen the installation of a hand pump bringing water directly to the washroom.
"A hot bath wouldn't hurt either," continued Lobo. "Relaxes the muscles."
"Getting all wet…," objected Kyle with a shiver. "Baths will make you sick."
The gang started discussing the relative merits of bathing. Surprisingly, or maybe not, not everyone agreed with Lobo. The outlaw leader settled back in his chair and glanced around the table at the familiar faces. Wheat and Kyle were partners, had been since before Heyes had first met them. Something Kyle had once said left Heyes thinking that the small man had been a gunner in the Civil War. It would certainly explain Kyle's fascination with explosives. Preacher was a mystery. And while the man partnered up with Lobo often enough like yesterday, Preacher and Lobo were just as apt to go off by themselves. It wasn't long before the Wheat started dealing the cards and the whiskey came out.
"Heyes," asked Wheat, as he tapped the deck of cards on the table, "are you playin'?"
"Yeah," nodded the dark haired Kansan in reply. Heyes decided he'd let Kid rest, he could wait until the injured man was feeling better before talking to him about changing plans. But plans still needed to be made. The gang needed one more lucrative job before winter. "What supplies do we need to get on our next trip to Wildwood?"
"We's gonna need to get more dynamite," responded Kyle quickly.
Heyes rolled his dark brown eyes. Yeah, he coulda guessed that.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
Kid spent the next week doing nothing more strenuous than eating, sleeping and taking long hot soak baths. Heyes was beginning to think he would have to barge in on his cousin in the washroom in order to talk to him, but on the eighth morning, Heyes awoke at dawn to the distant sound of gunfire. The dark haired outlaw leader recognized the echo of the forty-one caliber Colt House Revolver. Kid had climbed up the steep back ridge behind the cabin for an early morning shooting practice.
"Sounds like things are starting to get back to normal," said Heyes. A dimpled grin spread across his face before he rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
The next time Heyes woke up was when he heard Kid's stride cross the porch. Kid walked quietly, but Heyes was a light sleeper. Through his open bedroom door, the master planner watched the blond step into the cabin. Kid carried a basket.
"Eggs?" asked Heyes as he set up in his bed. The sleeves of his white henley slipped down past his wrists as Heyes reached his arms high overhead and stretched.
Kid looked up with a grin.
"Yeah," replied the blond as he moved towards the cast iron stove. "Everyone else is still asleep, but I'm hungry, so I checked the chicken coop. Do you want some breakfast?"
"Sounds good," replied the outlaw leader as he reached for his clothes. "I'll put some coffee on."
A grimace crossed Kid's face as he started cracking eggs into a bowl.
"Heyes," objected Kid, "that stuff you make isn't coffee."
-x-x-x-x-x-x
The two Kansans compromised. Heyes made the dark concoction he called coffee and brought another pot of water to boil so Kid could dilute the strong brew. Over a quiet meal of scrambled eggs and biscuits, the two partners began talking.
"How are you feeling?" asked Heyes.
"Better," answered Kid, "but the wounds itch something fierce."
Heyes laughed as Kid rolled up his shirt sleeve past his elbow. The wound on Kid's arm was still marked by a narrow rosy red line, but the redness would fade with time.
"It's healing," chuckled Heyes. The twenty-two year old hesitated a moment before asking about the more serious wound. "What about your back?"
Kid grunted, then stood up and slipped off his red shirt. The blond turned away from Heyes. The dark haired Kansan caught his breath. The bruising on the younger man's back was definitely fading, but it was still a mottled yellow and pale green.
"You tell me," replied Kid. "I can't see it."
"The stitching on your back looks good, like on your arm, but there's a lot of bruising," commented Heyes. "Your back looks painful."
Kid quickly shrugged his shirt back on. The blond reached for the blue enamel coffee pot without any indication that he'd even heard his cousin. Dark brown eyebrows raised up. Heyes hadn't heard Kid to admit to being in pain since they had gone to Valparaiso. The younger man returned to the table with the coffee pot and began to refill their cups.
"Are you going to tell me about how you got the scar on your upper right thigh?" asked Heyes softly.
"Nothing to tell Heyes," responded Kid in a low voice as he sat down. Blond curls shook. "Its old history, dead and buried, you don't need to know everything…"
Heyes felt an unreasonable irritation at the negative response, but the slender man wasn't angry with Kid, he was angry with himself. Or at least Heyes told himself that he was angry, it couldn't be something else, now could it?
"I do need to know," interrupted Heyes. "I need to know if someone is gunning for you… or if some lawman is going to come looking..."
"Jake Gallant ain't coming after anyone," interrupted Kid with an angry glare.
Heyes blinked in recognition. Jake Gallant was the name of one of the two men Kid was reputed to have killed in Texas. From all reports, the man had been a mean, vicious rogue and didn't live up to his name.
"Gallant shot you?" asked Heyes. "I thought you said you hadn't killed…"
Heyes' voice trailed off as the blue eyed glare deepened. Kid huffed out a great sigh before answering.
"I told you I ain't killed nobody," replied the blond. "Gallant was alive when I left him and shoulda stayed that way."
"Then what happened?"
"The law in San Angelo knows it wasn't me that killed him," sighed Kid as he leaned back in the chair, "but we all agreed it was better for me to get the blame than…"
Kid's mouth snapped shut.
"Than who?" coaxed the silver tongue. Heyes held his breath, waiting expectantly.
"Ain't polite to speak against a lady," mumbled Kid as he closed his eyes.
"And was this lady the person who bandaged you up?" asked Heyes.
"Nah," replied Kid as he slouched down in the chair. The blond raised his right leg and propped the booted foot up on the nearby kindling box as he rubbed his upper right thigh. "Artie patched me up."
Artie? Heyes had to think a minute before he remembered the affable old man who had joined their campsite the first night after leaving San Antonio.
"Do you mean Artie Gorman?" asked Heyes.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Jedidiah Curry," greeted the thin upright old man as he rode into their camp. "As I live and breathe! I haven't seen you in nearly a year."
The older man climbed out of his saddle and Kid introduced his partner. A surprisingly strong grasp pumped Heyes hand as Kid continued speaking.
"Heyes," explained Kid, "this is Artie Gorman. He took me in, helped me out, when I first came down to Texas."
"Helped him," boasted the white haired man, "if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have made it from sixteen to seventeen!"
Heyes's eyebrow went up at the old man's comment. A quick glance at Kid let Heyes know his cousin was still lying about his age, telling everyone he was older. As Kid seemed happy to see the old man, Heyes opened his saddle bag and brought out a bottle of good Irish whiskey. By the end of the night, the bottle was empty. The old man's memory was muddled, and as Gorman fell asleep, the old man was now boasting how he had helped both of them out time and again.
"The stuff Uncle Arthur taught us about pistols was a good start," explained Kid as he tucked a blanket around the dozing old man, "but Artie knows some stuff that Uncle Arthur never had a chance to tell us."
While Uncle Owen had taught both boys how to use a rifle, it wasn't until after the red haired man had been murdered that Heyes' father decided to teach both boys how to load a pistol. Heyes remembered his father standing with a book open in front of him. The dark haired school teacher's soft Dublin accents recited the directions on how to load and unload the weapons.
"But the really important stuff I learned on my own," added Kid.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Yeah, I owe Artie," answered Kid. "He's a good friend."
"I guess we both owe Artie," replied Heyes softly.
The outlaw leader shook his head thoughtfully. How had Artie been involved with Gallant's shooting and who was the mystery lady? Heyes wondered what else had happened to his cousin in Texas. How had a fifteen year old boy left Valparaiso and wound up in Texas two years later with a pistol and a fast draw the likes of which few had ever seen? Thinking of Kid's fast draw reminded Heyes of the blond's most recent demonstration of prowess.
"Kid," continued Heyes, "that day in Simpsonville, when me and the boys came to get you back, how did you know the deputy was getting ready to pull his gun?"
"What?" asked Curry.
Blue eyes opened in confusion. For a moment, Heyes was sure his cousin didn't even remember what he'd done that day.
"You grabbed my gun and shot the deputy's holster right off his hip, before I even realized he was going for his gun," reminded Heyes. "Then you aimed at the sheriff, kept him from doing anything."
Kid's blue eyes narrowed, and between the dark lashes, the color seemed to go cold and gray, gray as gunmetal. Usually Kid's blue eyes were a warm glowing blue. Kid laughed easily. And when the younger Kansan smiled, the smile lit up his eyes.
"Heyes, I'm always looking for the dangers in a place," reminded Kid slowly.
Heyes noted that although Kid's arm was stretched across the small round table, and the rest of Kid's body remained still, slouched in the wooden chair, the muscles in Kid's outstretched hand clenched and unclenched as the teenager spoke.
"And people, well especially people with guns, they make for a dangerous combination," continued Kid. "I see guns and I know when people plan on using them."
The dark haired man stared at his younger cousin. The blue eyes blinked and closed again. Heyes didn't know what to say. Those eyes hadn't always looked for danger, remembered Heyes. Suddenly, the dark haired mastermind found himself gazing directly into those blue eyes. Kid shifted in his seat. The blond leaned forward, staring quizzically at Heyes.
"Heyes, what's with all the questions?" asked Kid. "I know you. You're working up to something, probably something I'm not going to like. What is it you really want to talk about?"
Heyes gaped for the briefest of moments, before recovering. The slender man rose from his chair and began to pace around the cabin.
"The plans," replied Heyes flatly.
"What about the plans?" asked Kid sounding puzzled.
Heyes turned to face his cousin. Long slender fingers pressed upon his hips.
"I'm supposed to be in charge of all the planning," reminded Heyes. "And when you got hurt, everybody started making plans."
"What are you talking about Heyes?"
"Wheat and Kyle making distraction plans," responded the dark haired outlaw leader, "and Preacher and Lobo making cover plans…"
"Sounds like those were good plans, needful," began Kid.
"No, no, no," objected Heyes. "None of those plans would have been needed if it hadn't been for your contingency plans."
Kid's jaw clamped tight with the effort of not saying something rash.
"Plan B has to go," declared Heyes.
"Why?" demanded Curry. "Seems to me it was a good plan. It worked alright."
How could Kid say that thought Heyes. The last couple of weeks had been anything but alright.
"No Kid," responded Heyes talking quickly. "We've got to tighten things down now, there's just been too many people making plans. I'm the leader of the Devil's Hole gang and I'm supposed to be in charge."
Kid tilted his head and looked at Heyes.
"You're not in charge of everything Heyes," reminded Kid softly. "We're supposed to be partners."
"I'm the only one that makes plans from now on," announced Heyes. "I'll do the thinking and planning, you just stick to security. No more contingency plans."
Blue eyes flashed and Heyes knew he'd said it all wrong. All Heyes wanted was to ensure his cousin's safety, but from the scowl on Kid's face the slender dark haired man knew his cousin didn't see it the same way.
"I'm not stupid you know," growled Kid. The blond's face reddened. "I can think for myself."
Brown eyes blinked in shock. Heyes wasn't expecting that response.
"I never said you were stupid," replied Heyes.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
That word, stupid, struck a memory with the dark haired Kansan. For three years, in the one room school house presided over by Arthur Heyes, Jedidiah Curry learned his lessons. While Heyes' younger cousin, like many small boys, preferred to play rather than study, no one had ever called Kid stupid. Their second week in Valparaiso, Heyes was sent by his new teacher to the smaller boys' classroom on an errand.
"Come in," snapped Mr. Peterson at Heyes' knock on the classroom door. "What do you want?"
"Mr. Hyatt sent me to ask you for some chalk sir," replied Heyes looking around.
Nearly two dozen little boys were jammed into a tiny classroom that would have been crowded with just twelve children. Heyes was shocked to see his cousin standing in the corner with a white conical cap labelled Dunce.
"What's Jed doing in the corner?" blurted out Heyes.
Mr. Peterson glared at the slender dark haired youth.
"Curry acts like he doesn't remember anything from the fourth year primer," sniffed the disagreeable man. "If he wants to begin fifth year like a dunce, he will dress the part."
Heyes wanted to say of course his cousin didn't remember the fourth year primer, Jed had never seen it, but the two boys had already determined not to let anyone know they were related. From the corner, Jed glared at him and shook his head. Mr. Peterson held out the chalk box. Heyes swallowed down the outrage he felt and tried to remain calm.
"What's it to you anyway?" asked Mr. Peterson.
"Nothing. We're from the same town," dissembled Heyes. "Just surprised is all, I always thought he was pretty smart."
Later that evening, in the dining hall, Heyes heard one of the older boys try to order his cousin around.
"Hey stupid," called a jeering voice.
A cannonball of blond curls blasted into the older boy knocking him flat on his back. Heyes joined in the ensuing melee. When the administrators settled everyone down, Curry and Heyes were confined separately in isolation rooms. Over the next few years, they missed a lot of school in those isolation rooms. The war robbed the boys of their families. Valparaiso robbed them too.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Then why are you cancelling my plans?" demanded Kid.
Blue eyes narrowed as Kid gazed back at Heyes. The dark haired Kansan sighed. The blond could always tell when Heyes was trying something. The time for truth had come.
"I can't," whispered Heyes trying not to show how desperate he felt, "I can't deal with Plan B ever again. You're all the family I've got left. You can't be getting shot."
There was a momentary silence in the cabin, then Kid sighed.
"Heyes, I can't promise not to get shot," said Curry. Kid stood up abruptly and stalked to the cabin door. "Especially not when the Devil's Hole leader doesn't listen when I say it's time to leave."
Kid's words echoed through the cabin as the door swung slowly closed. Heyes gaped. The dark haired Kansan tried to remember how many times had Kid repeated "We need to get going." that night in Simpsonville.
"Kid," called Heyes as he hurried after his partner. "Kid, wait up, we're not done talking."
-x-x-x-x-x-x
Heyes finally found Kid skipping stones at the pond. Early morning sunlight reflected off the ripples as stone after stone raced across the blue water. Heyes approached slowly, and when he reached the water's edge, the slender dark haired man stood beside his partner silently until Kid threw the last rock in his hand.
"I'm sorry," said Heyes quietly. "I should have listened to you. It's all my fault that you got hurt…"
"Heyes, not everything is your fault," interrupted the tall blond, "I don't blame you because I got shot. I was just mad about you cancelling my plans, like Plan B wasn't good enough."
"Well it is my fault," objected Heyes. "I got you into this business, but I don't want you getting hurt or…"
The dark haired man sighed. Heyes couldn't say the word. Had he really thought being an outlaw was better than staying in Texas? Heyes squatted down. The Kansan began idly turning over the small rocks with his fingertips.
"Life expectancy in this business don't count for much," said Kid softly as he knelt beside his cousin and started picking up smooth flat stones, "but then I guess we're both living on borrowed time."
"What?" asked Heyes.
"Everyone in our family is dead," reminded Kid. "I've already lived longer than my brother and both my sisters."
Heyes gazed at his eighteen year old cousin. The dark haired man wondered if his own brown eyes showed the same pain he saw in the blue eyes facing him. Kid's older brother Henry had been the same age when the young cavalryman was declared missing.
"Aunt Katie and her family…" began Heyes hesitantly.
A wistful expression crossed Kid's face as he slowly stood up and started skipping stones again. Heyes voice stopped. They hadn't talked about their family in years. He remembered his mother anxiously checking the post office every time she went to town in the last weeks before her own death. No one had heard from Aunt Katie and her family since two armies turned the seat of Adams County Pennsylvania into a bloodbath.
"That first year in Valparaiso," said Kid softly, "I kept hoping that we'd hear that Henry was alive and coming to get us. Sometimes, I'd hope that Aunt Katie was coming to get us. But after a while… I just quit hoping."
Valparaiso. Nearly everything bad that happened always seemed to come back to that place. Heyes had spent four years in the government run facility. Kid had been there six years. That horrible place probably should have had a sign above its door stating abandon all hope. Heyes remembered his cousin wanted to run away so many times. Should Heyes have taken Kid with him when he was discharged?
"We never lied about our names," continued Kid. "Don't you think that if Aunt Katie was alive, we would have heard?"
"Kid, with the war, mail and telegraph service was erratic," started Heyes.
A huff of disbelief came from the Kid. Heyes watched as the blond sent the last three stones skimming across the pond in a speeding series of jumps. While Heyes couldn't even remember ever seeing Aunt Katie, he wanted to believe, wanted so very badly to believe, that somewhere a woman still lived with the same red curls, green eyes and dimpled smile found on his mother's face.
"When I got out of Valparaiso, and you weren't there, I thought…," continued Kid, a stubborn expression settled on his face, "well, let's just say, you're all the family I've got left too. Plan B stays... 'cause I ain't never letting anything happen to you."
Heyes gulped as Kid knelt down and began to pick up more stones. The dark haired outlaw tried to remember when the last time was that he had heard Kid talk so much. Kid might think Plan B had to stay, but Heyes was going to do his best to make sure Plan B was never, ever needed again.
"If I hadn't been checking out the bank manager's books…" began Heyes shaking his head.
"We both messed up the Simpsonville job. We both knew the timing was tight with the sheriff's rounds," responded Kid with a smile. "I should have made you leave sooner."
"Yeah right," grunted Heyes with a snort. "This was my fault, you couldn't make me leave…"
"I could have picked you up and carried you out of the bank," interrupted Kid.
Brown eyes blinked in surprise. An eyebrow went up as the dark haired Kansan glanced sideways at his cousin.
"You wouldn't dare," said Heyes.
"Oh yeah I would," answered Kid. His lips turned up in a grin, the blue eyes twinkled with mischief. "Now are you gonna start listening to me or am I gonna have to flatten ya?"
Heyes looked past his cousin to the sparkling blue water. The temptation was too much to resist.
"You've already done that," reminded Heyes as he pushed Kid backwards. "My turn."
-x-x-x-x-x-x
Two sopping wet, laughing outlaws returned to the leader's cabin some time later. Lom Trevors was sitting on the front porch. None of the other Devil's Hole gang could be seen.
"Hello Lom," greeted Heyes cautiously. Although Lom was a friend, he was also a lawman now. "Wasn't expecting to see you up here."
"If anybody asks," replied Lom, "I haven't been here."
"Well don't come in then," said Heyes with a dimpled grin.
The moustached man followed Heyes and Kid into the cabin. Kid stalked over to his bunk, sat down and began disassembling his wet colt, while Heyes walked towards the stove. Heyes lifted the coffee pot offering Lom some first. The lawman shook his head. Heyes poured himself a cup of the cold coffee before moving towards the table.
"So Lom," asked Heyes as he sat down and began pulling off his boots, "what brings you here?"
As Heyes nudged his thick heeled boots beneath the table with one foot, the heavyset lawman reached into his inside vest pocket and withdrew some folded papers. Lom slapped the wanted posters down on the table in front of Heyes.
"These," answered Lom. "I thought you ought to know about the updates after your latest escapade in Simpsonville."
Heyes looked at the topmost wanted poster bearing his name. The usual dark brown hair, brown eyes, medium build, age 21, height 5 feet 11 inches. A new item, scar on left side of throat. Heyes leaned forward resting his elbows on the table, clasping his chin between his hands, suddenly glad that he hadn't taken off the wet neckerchief covering up the scar from the shaving cut on the right side of his throat. The twenty-two year old remembered the doctor's mother warning him that the cut would scar if untended. The general description was vague at best, and the age, height and location of the scar were wrong, but Heyes wasn't going to correct any of that if he could help it.
"I see they raised the bounty again," commented Heyes with a forced smile. "Two hundred and fifty dollars is a lot of money."
Lom snorted and reached for the wanted posters. The deputy slid Heyes' poster aside, revealing a new poster bearing the name of Kid Curry. Heyes swallowed. It was the first time his younger cousin had been listed as a wanted man. Blond hair, blue eyes, medium build, age 19, height 5 feet 11 inches. Scar on right thigh. Hmmm, no mention of a scar on the left arm or below the left shoulder blade. Was the doctor's mother trying to help the law, or the outlaws? Or did she really think her stitching was that good?
"Two hundred and fifty dollars for Kid too?" asked Heyes. "Why so high for a first offense?"
Lom's eyebrows went up. He tapped the text below Kid's name. Exactly the same as the text below the name of Hannibal Heyes, leader of a band of desperados.
"Hmmph," grunted Lom, "I guess they figured if the whole gang came to get Kid back, he must be just as important as the gang leader."
Well yeah. Heyes knew that, but he would rather that the law hadn't figured it out. And he wasn't going to tell anyone that Kid was only eighteen. Just like he sure wasn't going to point out that a man who wore low heeled boots and slouched a bit when he walked might look to be the same height as a slightly shorter man that wore thick soled boots with hollowed out heels for carrying lock picks. There were just some things that the law didn't need to know.
"Be glad the wanted posters are just rewards offered by the territorial governor," admonished Lom as he turned to leave, "I would hate to have the banks or railroads start posting real reward money. That would get the bounty hunters all stirred up."
"Thanks Lom," said Heyes softly.
"Friends help each other out," reminded Lom before he stepped out the door.
The door swung shut. Heyes and Curry looked at each other.
"I suppose that means we should stay out of Porterville," observed Kid.
"Yeah," replied Heyes. He leaned forward and looked at the updated wanted posters. "Of course these updates means the folks at Simpsonville aren't being real friendly."
-x-x-x-x-x-x
After dinner that night, Heyes announced he was holding an official meeting of the Devil's Hole gang. The dark haired outlaw leader started pacing back and forth, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.
"We've got to go over the rules," started Heyes. "Our first year together has been pretty good, but we can make it better. We've just got to finesse the bylaws a bit."
Heyes stopped and turned to the men seated at the table before him. Kyle had a puzzled expression on his face, while Wheat rolled his eyes. Lobo appeared to be falling asleep. Preacher might actually have been praying. Kid leaned up against the back wall with his arms folded across his chest watching everything through half closed eyes.
"What do you mean we gots to buy a law?" asked Kyle. "Ain't we outlaws?"
Heyes started to explain, but words like codicil and addendum just seemed to make matters worse. The resulting babble only stopped when Kid pursed his lips and blew a sharp whistle. Everyone stopped talking to look at the tall blond.
"Let Heyes talk," said Kid softly. After a moments continued silence, the younger Kansan coaxed, "Go on Heyes."
The dark haired man resumed pacing in front of the gang members. Most of what Heyes planned to say tonight had already been worked out with Kid in advance.
"We're just changing the rules a bit," began Heyes.
"Changing… how?" challenged Wheat as he leaned back in his seat.
"Wheat, just listen," chided Kid. "He's trying to tell you how."
Dark brown eyes met the clear blue gaze of his partner. A slight smirk from Kid prompted Heyes to begin talking again.
"When we started last year, we said there were three rules," reminded Heyes. He held up his hand and raised his index finger as he listed the first rule.
"First, no hurting any people," said Heyes, "but I have to remind everyone that we're people too. So don't go getting hurt."
"I likes that rule," smiled Kyle.
"Sorta hard to enforce," frowned Wheat.
"We want to be the most successful outlaws in these parts," reminded Heyes. "And part of being a success means we need to be around to spend the money."
Most of the boys nodded in agreement at that statement, but Lobo seemed to slip down farther in his chair. Heyes thought the shaggy haired man might really be asleep.
"And there's been a lot of other people making plans," continued Heyes, he glanced towards his cousin, "distraction plans, cover plans and contingency plans."
"What's wrong with that," grumbled Wheat.
"Making plans shows initiative and creativity," Heyes realized that he was losing his audience again and hurried to the key point. He raised a second finger. "Rule number two, I make the plans. And if anyone else makes a plan, I have to know about it first. No more surprise plans."
Heyes looked around the room at the nodding outlaws.
"Any extra plans have to be approved by me," added Heyes in a rush.
His partner's eyebrows went up a little at Heyes last line. The slender brown haired man stopped moving and stared at his cousin. It wasn't until Kid gave a slight nod, that Heyes realized he'd been holding his breath.
"What about rule three?" asked Kyle.
"That stays the same," answered Heyes. A third slender finger joined the other two. "Kid is in charge of security. We all do what Curry says."
-x-x-x-x-x-x
Six weeks later the entire gang was back at the saloon in Wildwood. Celebrating. Heyes grinned as he glanced around the noisy room. The return trip to Simpsonville had been a flawless plan. It started when Kid walked into the new jailhouse shortly after midnight. Returning those horrible big black pants, the blond locked up both sheriff and deputy, confiscating their weapons too. Not a shot was fired. Heyes and the rest of the gang were free to break into the bank.
"Here you go sugar," said a thirtyish brunette as she set a bottle of Jameson's down on the table in front of Heyes. "I'll be back in a bit with the cards."
Heyes watched the new waitress sashay back towards the bar. Betsy's dark haired friend Deanna, had hurried to Kid's side when they entered the saloon. Betsy had quit work, returned home. Deanna apparently had a lot of things to tell Kid, goodbye and thank you messages from Betsy, and maybe some sweet talk of her own. They were still talking. Kid leaned against the bar. The blond's gaze was tilted downwards, lips curled up in a soft smile as Kid listened to Deanna. The tall outlaw was dressed in a new blue shirt, tan trousers, and a sheepskin coat.
"A little warm in here for that coat," chuckled Heyes, "but it looks good on you."
-x-x-x-x-x-x
The twenty-two year old had insisted on taking Kid to the tailor's when they arrived in Wildwood earlier this afternoon. Heyes looked around the shop, while the tiny little tailor fretted about Kid with his tape measure.
"Thirty waist… thirty four length…" muttered the little man. "I've got one pair of trousers that will fit you sir, but we'll have to make the rest."
"And what about this Kid," asked Heyes holding up the heavy sheepskin jacket. At Kid's uncertain glance, Heyes added, "My treat, call it a birthday gift, even if it is a bit late."
-x-x-x-x-x-x
The new barmaid appeared in front of Heyes again. She leaned forward giving him a glimpse of her décolletage as she placed the cards and poker chips in front of him. When the woman moved away again, Heyes couldn't see Kid. Wheat and Kyle were walking towards him. Wheat pulled out the chair to Heyes left and sat down. Kyle rounded the table and set down on the Kansan's right side.
"Hello boys," greeted Heyes as he craned his neck trying to see across the crowded room. "What's up?"
"Kid said to tell you we's here to inform you about Plan D," said Kyle in a rush.
Heyes stared at the small man. Another plan? Already?
"I thought we had an agreement about that," said Heyes. He reached up and pushed back his hat and smiled. "No more surprise plans."
"It ain't a surprise, we's informing you," answered Kyle. There was a pause, then the little outlaw added helpfully, "Now."
"But I haven't approved any new plans," objected the dark haired outlaw leader.
"Don't need to," answered Kyle happily. "Plan D is a security plan."
Heyes turned looking for Kid, but found himself staring at Wheat. The dark haired Kansan glanced from one outlaw to the other.
"Kid said that since rule three was in place before the addendum to rule two," recited Wheat self-importantly, "security plans take precedence and don't need to be approved."
Heyes blinked. Hmmmph! He craned his neck trying to see across the crowded room, but the oncoming figures of Lobo and Preacher blocked his view.
"What's Plan D?" asked Heyes.
"Uh, uh..," started Kyle. He scratched his head as Lobo and Preacher sat down across from Heyes. "I think… I think Plan D might be Deanna."
Beside Heyes, Wheat snorted.
"That's not it," said Wheat.
"Then what is Plan D?" asked Kyle in frustration. "I can't remember."
"Do not disturb," answered Wheat smugly.
"Are you sure?" asked Kyle doubtfully. The littlest outlaw nodded towards the stairs. "I thought…"
The pretty brunette Kid had been talking to ever since they arrived in the saloon was now backing up the stairs, leading the tall blond by the hand. Heyes saw her lips move, and even though he couldn't hear the words, he could recognize the coaxing expression on her face. Kid was grinning happily.
"It's because of Deanna," explained Wheat, "that Kid doesn't want to be disturbed."
Kyle nodded slowly, but the expression on his face remained unconvinced. Heyes leaned back in his chair, the thunk of wood hitting wall stopped him from moving back any further.
"Yeah, but do not disturb ain't plan D," said Preacher.
"Would somebody please tell me what Plan D is?" asked Heyes in exasperation.
Wheat, Kyle, Lobo and Preacher all stared at the Devil's Hole gang leader.
"Plan D is a security plan," explained Lobo. The shaggy haired man glanced at the other men sitting at the table. Everyone but Heyes nodded in agreement. Lobo continued. "When it's a matter of security, we all do what Curry says."
"What is Plan D?" hissed Heyes.
"Don't," said Preacher, as he reached for the card deck, "don't let Heyes get into any trouble."
Heyes' jaw dropped open as Preacher began shuffling the cards. Did Kid really think the entire gang was needed to watch over him?
"Yeah, that's it, like Plan B only Kid ain't shot or captured," agreed Kyle with a broad smile, "Don't let Heyes get into any trouble."
Oh no, no, no, thought Heyes. Plan D has to go.
"Deal," ordered Heyes.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
