Having just heard that a bounty hunter was cooling his heels in the sheriff's office, Curry took the lead as he and Heyes rode quietly down a back alley and out of Louisville from the road farthest from trouble. The Kid looked back to catch his partner's eyes – the darker outlaw had normally taken the lead in the past. But Heyes silently nodded and waved his blonde partner on. It had been too long since Heyes had been actively fleeing bounty hunters and posses for him to take the lead and they both knew it. It was Curry who knew this country thoroughly now. Heyes put on his glasses surreptitiously before the pair sped up the pace. The Kid knew better than to comment. The last time they had fled like this, with Heyes wearing his new glasses, Curry had laughed at Heyes about it. The Kid had wound up later in that adventure nearly killing his partner. It was not an occasion that either man liked to remember.
Wanting to look like ordinary travelers, the pair went at a gentle lope until they were well out of town. They saw only a few riders and wagons in and near town and almost no one took any notice of them. The lone exception was a local rancher driving a wagon. The rancher waved familiarly at the men he knew as saloon-keeper and sometime sheriff's deputy Thaddeus Jones and his friend from the East. It felt strange for the boys to casually return a friendly wave as they fled for their lives.
Soon the pair was riding into the mountains under aspens and tall pines, spotted sunlight and shadow playing over them on this beautiful late spring afternoon. It was just cool enough to be very pleasant riding weather, but not cold enough to require a jacket. Heyes at first looked around him anxiously in search of signs of pursuit, while the Kid's careful monitoring of their surrounding was less obvious. But they heard nothing but the occasional foraging elk and saw no human or horse as they put distance between themselves and Louisville.
Heyes began to relax and enjoy the beauty of the Colorado mountains. Bright wildflowers bloomed among the underbrush and puffy white clouds meandered across the blue sky. About two hours out Heyes tensed and hissed very softly for the Kid to look back at him. He pointed down the mountain side to where a pair of large four legged animals – presumably horses - could faintly be heard walking along the trail where the pair of outlaws had been riding not long before. Curry smiled at Heyes and said softly, "Cavanaugh."
"How do you know?" asked Heyes in a low tone as soft as a whisper but less likely to be overheard. "Can't see him in all that brush."
Curry raised his head slightly, "Hear that tiny metal clink? That's Bedford – Cavanaugh's pack mule. Forges just a little now and then in steep places – hits his near front shoe with his off hind. Cavanaugh keeps saying he'll get the farrier to fix it with shoeing, but you know how he hates to go to town." Heyes smiled. His partner was one canny man, and now that Heyes was out of practice at this kind of thing, he appreciated the Kid's gifts even more.
Having seen no sign of pursuit, the pair stopped and made camp in a sheltered spot as the sun was getting low. Heyes staked out the horses in a convenient little mountain meadow where they could graze all night. Many men might have hobbled them – but not men who might have to mount up in a hurry and ride away to save their lives.
Meanwhile, the Kid made a small fire. While it was still light enough to see, both men gathered firewood and green boughs to sleep on. Heyes found a nice patch of onion grass that would go well with the beans, and some mint they could chew on after dinner. It was certainly a whole lot nicer a situation than the last time the pair had made camp in the wilds of Colorado, when Heyes had been half dead of pneumonia.
The pair sat by the fire and ate while the sun set behind the mountains. The Kid asked, "Heyes, what's that stupid grin doing on your face?"
"I beg your pardon!" answered Heyes with mock dignity, "I happen to be a brilliant graduate student. I am not stupid."
"Then why are you sitting next to a snake?" asked the Kid with a straight face.
Heyes started up just a few inches before he realized that he'd been had – again. The pair began to laugh.
"Since you just let me get you on the snake thing for about the fifteenth time, allow me to restate my question," said the Kid when he could stop laughing enough to get the words out, "why the idiotic grin, Heyes?"
"I'd just forgotten what a good time we used to have, running for our lives," said Heyes, still grinning. "Sometimes school and the city seem about as dangerous, and these days at least, not half as much fun. Sure has been a pretty day."
"You are an idiot!" laughed Curry, "Here we are running from our lives from one of the most unpredictable, least principled, most ruthless bounty hunters in about four states, and you sit there claiming that your having fun."
Now Heyes looked more serious. "Is he really that bad? I'd heard of Floyd Carson, of course. He was on our tails that one time outside of Butte, but not for long and never even got close enough to see him. I just heard he generally got his man. But then, it's been a few years since I kept up on Colorado bounty hunters."
"Yeah, bounty hunters like Carson are just part of what Wilde is teaching me. I been studying all kinds of sheriff stuff." Curry put up his hand to stop the inevitable tease that his phrasing was inviting, "Yeah, studying, Joshua Smith. To be an apprentice sheriff, you got to study. Sheriffs need to know a lot of stuff and it takes work to get up on it all, and keep up on it. Wilde knows a lot and he's trying to teach me."
"Hmph! And I thought you law men just sat around with your feet on your desks and snored until some hard-working outlaw gave you reason to go outside," sneered Heyes with a chuckle. "So what are you studying, if I may ask?"
Curry rolled his eyes, "All those outlaw flyers! And the sheriffs in surrounding counties. And all the crime news in the newspapers in this and all states around. And telegrams from sheriffs and judges. And you got to know all the local bar keeps, and pawn shops, and gun smiths, and lock smiths, and livery stables, and . . ."
"Enough!" Heyes put a hand up to stop his partner's recitation, "If you keep going, I might just develop a respect for sheriffs. We can't have that."
"But you stopped me before I got to the really hard stuff," said Curry, sounding more serious.
"Alright, I'll bite. What's the hard stuff?" Heyes put the last bite of beans into his mouth to eat while he listened to what his partner had to say.
"The letter of the law! I got to know every word of every damn criminal statute in this state and this county and a bunch of other places. Why, did you know, Heyes, that the minute we left Texas after the Fort Worth job, we officially became fugitives and that the statute of limitations on our crimes went on hold – what they call tolled?"
Heyes swallowed the last of his beans, "Yeah, Kid, I did. How close are you to having the statute of limitations run out on the Denver job?"
Curry stopped and swallowed his own beans. "Why, I don't know. I haven't added it up. Can't be long before we're safe on that one."
Heyes looked resentfully at his partner, "You mean before you're safe. I don't live in the state - remember? You always were selfish about the legal stuff."
"I beg your pardon!" answered the Kid.
"What's that noise? Somebody down there?" hissed Heyes. Curry threw himself flat in the dust, before he heard Heyes laughing at him. "Got you, sheriff!" said Heyes.
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The next morning the retired outlaws were up before the sun to eat a hurried breakfast. The Kid hesitantly said to his partner, "Uh, Heyes, I know you're gonna be teaching come fall. . ."
"Assistant teaching – not really the same thing. But yeah, Kid. What about it?" Heyes took a swallow of coffee and grimaced. He hated to admit how bad his coffee was, but it was little hard to hide from its bitterness this morning.
Curry ducked his head self-consciously, "Well, um, Heyes, would you maybe help me with how to do my law studies? There's all this awful law language that I can't make heads or tails of. Makes it the very devil to remember. Wilde understands the stuff alright, I think. But he's not the world's great teacher, if you know what I mean. He's not real strong on the Latin stuff. And he doesn't know how to help me know how to use all the letter of the law in the street."
Heyes tilted his head as he considered the problem, "Hmn. Applied law – like my applied math. Sure, Kid, I can help you find some ways to deal with it. You just show me some pages and I'll help you get the language and give you some strategies for studying. I'm afraid the best advice I can give you is to work hard. Study no more of it than you can cope with at once, then go back every day – every single day, and review. Review and review and review. Review every darned thing you've covered and every day add a little more. It gets faster as you go, but it does take time. Get someone – like Cat, maybe – to quiz you. I wish there was a good lawyer around here to help you out with the legal terms, but I don't guess we could trust him even if there was."
The Kid looked a bit bleak. He knew that Heyes worked hard at his studies, but himself he hated to spend time over a book when he could working at the saloon or playing poke or being with Cat or riding in the mountains. "Is that really what you do every single day?"
Heyes nodded, "Well, not today. But yes, usually it is. Every single day. For every single class. And all the languages. That's how I stay on top of it. Learning is hard work. Somebody ought to write a book on that."
Curry looked at his partner with respect. "Maybe you will, Heyes. Thanks for the advice. I guess we better get riding."
It was another beautiful day in the woods, riding ever farther north and encountering not a human being but themselves. As the afternoon went on, it began to get a bit warm and the boys began to get a bit hungry and a bit less worried about the pursuit that had never come. They came across a sparkling mountain stream playing along beside the path. Inspiration struck and they stopped. Heyes found and cut a couple of flexible green sticks to use as fishing poles while Curry scouted the area and staked out the horses where they could forage. Then the pair settled in the fish for dinner. It wasn't too long before the Kid hooked cutthroat trout.
Just as the boys were settling in to fishing they heard what sounded like several horses coming, and this wasn't Heyes having a joke. The two men fell utterly quiet and stayed low. The Kid drew his Colt and wriggled on his belly to look over the edge of the little valley and see who was coming into the clearing just over the little ridge. He motioned for Heyes to come up behind a nearby bush that also gave a view into the clearing.
A pair of buckskin clad men rode into the clearing with a pack mule behind them loaded with furs. The Kid stood up slowly and showed his pistol. He shouted, "Hands up, boys!"
The newly arrived pair had seemed to know that someone was near, but they complied easily enough. "Sure thing, Mister!" said a bearded black haired young man in very backcountry accents. "We don't mean no harm."
"We ain't got nothing for to steal but some furs, but you's welcome to them, if you leave us our lives," said his older blonde friend who was also heavily bearded. The newly arrived men were obviously backcountry trappers.
"We aren't holding you up, boys," said the Kid. "Just didn't want you to hold us up. Partner, you want to go and get their rifles for a little extra insurance?"
"Sure thing, boss!" said Heyes in the country accent he enjoyed assuming when he didn't want locals to take him too seriously.
Soon the four were sitting by the side of the stream together, using the last good hour of the afternoon to catch more fish. "Sure is nice to run into you guys," said the black haired younger trapper, Hank.
"Yeah, we been in the back country since winter getting furs," added his friend Mike. "It's right pleasant to have some company other than each other. Anything interesting happening out there in the big world while we been away?"
"Not last I heard, not much," said Heyes. "Wyoming Territory'll be a state any day, seems like."
Mike looked up, "Is that a fact? Ain't many territories. Won't be so good trapping out here much longer, I'm thinking, with folks all coming in to settle" said Mike. The rest of the men nodded. It was a fact of life out west – more people came in all the time.
It was very pleasant to have two extra faces around the camp fire and eat fat trout with. The trappers were nice, easy-going guys. And they had two extra sharp pairs of ears trained to listen for trouble. In the morning the newcomers rode south to take their furs into one of the local towns. Curry and Heyes decided to go with them. The trappers hadn't asked what had brought two guys out so far in the woods – they understood that a man's business is his own and they weren't inclined to inquire further. Therefore, they made good company for a pair of men who preferred to keep their business private. The four rode into the tiny town of Walter. "I always did like towns with first names!" proclaimed Heyes, which made everyone laugh.
While the trappers dickered over fur prices with the local store keeper, Heyes and Curry dropped into the telegraph office. They told Wilde, in code, where they were and asked for news. Wilde relayed that Carson had ridden off north, not particularly on the boys' heels, but too close to their route for them to relax completely just yet. He might be trying to lull them into a false sense of security, so the boys did not dare to head home quite yet. But they were glad that their visit to Walter offered them a chance to take baths. And while they were in the little town, Heyes spotted some very innocent looking poker players he just had to try to fleece, despite the Kid's skepticism.
As they played, Heyes listened to the conversations in the little saloon. A strapping young miner dropped into the game. As soon as he had won a hand, he asked, "Anybody seen Carson the bounty hunter?"
He was met by a chorus of "nope," including from the seemingly innocent lips of Smith and Jones. But the local barber, sitting at Heyes' right said, "I ain't seen him, but I heard he was hunting some pair of outlaws not too far south of here. Rumor don't say who they were, but big names seems like. Big prices. Friend of mine said Carson figured to retire on 'em when he rounds 'em up."
"What, you folks have big time outlaws here abouts? I never heard of it," said Heyes.
"The Teasdales rode through a couple of years ago," said the barber, "and they did say as Heyes and Curry their own selves were seen back about 82 or 83, but nobody that big lately. We just don't have enough money around here to attract the big boys, I'm guessing. No big mines or railroads or big banks here. Little lumbering, little fur trapping, little hunting. I mean, if you were big time outlaws, would you come to Walter?"
"Guess not," said Heyes. "So don't know who this Carson might be hunting."
That was enough for the Kid. He caught his partner's eye and soon the pair had bowed out of the game, although with a tidy profit. They headed out back to the woods to camp for the night, though not without a fond glance behind them at the comforts of the little hotel in Walter.
Sure enough, not long after Heyes and Curry had mounted back up the next morning, they heard a horseman on the trail far behind them. They withdrew off the trail far back into the woods and fell utterly quiet. They had their pistols drawn. Heyes and Curry were riding their favorite horses, Clay and Blackie, so they knew that their horses would not betray them as Curry's second choice of mount had when the Teasdales had pursued them. Before long a horse appeared on the trail – far enough away so that they could scarcely see him through the dense woods. He appeared to be grey-haired man on a tall chestnut horse. Heyes looked a question at Curry, who nodded almost imperceptibly. They both agreed that this was probably Floyd Carson the bounty hunter.
Then they heard sounds that outlaws dreaded perhaps more than any other – a whistle from Carson and the answering whines of hounds – tracking hounds. If Carson had any object carrying the scent of Heyes or Curry, the hounds would inevitably find them – unless the pursued men gave away their location by shooting every hound. The bounty hunter paused on the trail and they heard him say something to the hounds. The two outlaw fugitives looked at each other with wide eyes and sweating brows – were the hounds about to be set on their trail?
The tell-tale baying of the hounds broke out loudly. The hunting hounds eagerly leapt forward, with Carson spurring his horse to keep up. They were going north up the trail – beyond where the pair of outlaws watching had yet gotten. Whoever Carson was chasing, it wasn't Heyes and Curry. That would not, however, keep him from encountering them if they weren't careful. They waited silently until Carson and his hounds vanished into the distance.
Then the pair turned and rode back south as fast as they could safely go over the rough trail, Heyes urging his horse with his rein ends of he always did when asking for speed. They had to get as far as possible away from that bounty hunter and his hounds. As they approached the town of Walter, Heyes and Curry slowed their ride and walked out their horses. They went to the telegraph office again and sent a brief coded message to Wilde and another to Lom Trevors about Carson and his hounds heading north after outlaws. Soon, they heard back from Wilde – urging them to come back to Louisville. On the trail was the worst place for them if a tracker was out there with dogs. They agreed with him.
Two days later, Curry and Heyes were cautiously riding back into Louisville. They put their tired horses away and snuck in the back way at Christy's Place. Cat was there to greet them. "Oh, Kid! We've been so worried about you boys." The Kid gave his fiancé a long kiss before he answered.
Curry freed his lips and whispered, "We're alright, honey! That Carson never was after us, you know. He and his hounds were on the trail of some other poor pair of outlaws. I pity them is all I can say!"
"Hounds! I didn't know he had hounds!" Cat was frightened to hear this news.
"Yeah – didn't know until we saw them – and heard them bay'n!" said Heyes. "Don't meet with them often out here – thank God!"
It was only a day later that the baying of hounds sounded in the streets of Louisville as Carson returned with two outlaws tied on their horses. It was a pair the boys had heard of, but never met – Loomis and Fielder, from North Dakota. The pair looked badly bitten and shaken up by their encounter with the hounds. Loomis and Fielder would be hauled off to justice on the train in a few days, when some lawmen from North Dakota could come and claim the fugitives. But having that man and his dogs in town was too much for the partners at Christy's place. Even though Carson had never seen them, they were too easy to spot together. The Kid wasn't easy to identify unless he drew, but with Heyes and the Kid appearing side by side it was possible that the bounty hunter might put one and one together.
So that night Heyes said to Cat as they all three sat around the back table, "I'm out of here early tomorrow, Cat. Sorry not to get much chance to see you, but you know how it is . . ."
And she did. "Yes, Heyes. An outlaw's lot is pretty tough sometimes. It's a real shame you didn't get the vacation you wanted. Nothing but pressure even here!"
Heyes shrugged. Riding with the Kid again had had its compensations.
"We'll miss you until Christmas. Hope Miss Beth can come out with you then," said Cat.
"Yeah, the holidays wouldn't seem right without we can have all four of us together," said the Kid.
"I hope we can," said Heyes. "Might be our last together in a long time if I get a job some place far away. I sure wish I could find something near here."
Heyes rode out before dawn with the Kid and Wilde by his side. If the hounds got onto Heyes, he could be torn to bits in minutes if he didn't have some help. His cohorts stayed at his side until he got to the outskirts of Boulder.
As they reached a ridge outside of town, Heyes said, "I guess you boys – pardon me, you sheriffs – can take off. I think I'm safe enough from here. I'm obliged to you both. Never thought I'd have a sheriff watching my back – much less two of them!" He winked at the Kid.
"So long, Heyes," said Wilde. "Sorry you've had such a tough time in Louisville."
"See you at Christmas, Heyes!" said the Kid. "You study hard 'till then, alright? And teach real well – make us proud!"
"I'll do my best," grinned Heyes. "Same back to you guys! It sure will be weird to have a sheriff in the family, if you'll pardon me, Wilde."
"I guess it would, at that," said the lawman. "While I got to admit to having an outlaw or two in my family already."
Heyes turned Clay's head down into town. "Don't you wait too long to come and get Clay out of the livery stable here, Jed!" he called behind him, "You know how he gets lonesome without Blackie!"
"Adios!" called the Kid, waving his hat after his departing partner.
As Heyes boarded the train east and watched the west sliding past the windows, his brief time riding with the Kid faded away like a dream. His worries about school, which had seemed so far away, settled back on him. He added them to his legal concerns. With all this looming, he hoped he could somehow, with the help of his friends, hold it all together for one more summer and one more year. In some ways the prospect seemed like an eternity, and in some ways like all too brief a time.