Hannibal Heyes sat leisurely at the small table he'd placed near the window of the hotel room he shared with his ill partner, Kid Curry. Heyes spent most of his time reading, although he was frequently distracted by the shallow, rapid breathing and high pitched coughing of his partner, and each time he was distracted, Heyes would get up and check Kid's forehead for fever and his eyes to see if he was awake. Each time Kid was awake, Heyes would try to coax him into drinking some water and Kid would weakly whisper a refusal. But Heyes had learned to disregard Kid's protests and raise a glass to Kid's mouth and nine times out of ten Kid would at least take a few sips.
Kid Curry had the distinct misfortune of somehow having avoided nearly all the common childhood illnesses, so when one presented itself to him as an adult, it usually hit him very hard and he was soon down for the count. This was one such case.
The doctor who had been summoned to the hotel room three days prior, had examined Kid and concluded that Kid was suffering from chincough and had prescribed opium which worked to decrease Kid's coughing spells, but tended to cause some delirium as well, so Heyes had used it sparingly. The doctor had also recommended induced vomiting to "rid the the body of phlegm," but Heyes found this tended to bring on more coughing spells as well.
So Heyes had visited a local herbalist, an old woman, stooped and wrinkled. She had instructed Heyes to pack a pipe with rosemary and have her friend smoke the pipe three or four times a day. She had also recommended making a drink of hyssop, rue, and honey and, for a price, provided Heyes with all the necessary ingredients as well as instructions about proper measurements. Heyes found the herbalist's recommendations much more easily tolerated by his partner, and basically as effective as the opium but without the side effect of delirium.
Kid remained pretty much oblivious to all of Heyes' efforts. Breathing was difficult and deep breaths impossible without spurring a subsequent bout of wracking coughs, so Kid was subject to rapid, shallow breathing. Sometime Heyes would count as many as thirty-six such breaths a minute. This number was reduced when Kid was asleep, but the effort of breathing combined with the bouts of coughing followed by subsequent whoops of air being sucked into his lungs left Kid constantly exhausted.
Despite Kid's current condition, Heyes was not particularly worried about complications and was confident that Kid would eventually recover. Kid had always been prone to respiratory ailments and had always managed to recover. So, if Heyes saw that Kid was sleeping comfortable of an evening, Heyes would often slip off to the saloon for a couple of hours of beer and poker. Such was the case on the Friday that ended the first full week of their hotel stay.
Heyes had given Kid a drink of the herbal mixture and honey and Kid had settled into a peaceful sleep. So, around nine-thirty that evening, Heyes quietly slipped out of the room and crossed the street to the saloon. He ordered a beer and turned his back to the bar, watching the poker tables for a seat to be vacated. That didn't take long and Heyes was soon engrossed in what turned out to be a rather profitable evening. Heyes was so engrossed in his poker game that he lost track of time and did not return to the hotel until a little after midnight, almost two hundred dollars wealthier.
Heyes checked on Kid and found him lying on his side, breathing rapidly, his eyes partially open but eyelids too heavy to fully raise. Kid had a bluish tint to his lips that the doctor had warned Heyes was not uncommon due to the decreased amount of oxygen Kid was actually taking into his lungs.
"Any better?" Heyes asked as he hovered over his partner.
""No," Kid whispered. Heyes packed the smoking pipe with rosemary and shifted Kid's pillows around before propping Kid on his back. Then he popped the pipe into Kid's mouth and lit a match. "Start sucking on it," Heyes instructed.
Kid slowly raised a hand to steady the pipe and took several shallow draws.
Doc said it would take a couple of weeks before you start improving."
"You win?" Kid whispered.
"Couple hundred."
Kid's eyes closed and his hand dropped to the bed, so Heyes held the pipe in Kid's mouth. "Keep sucking on the pipe, Kid," Heyes instructed and Kid took a few more draws before drifting back to sleep. Heyes put the pipe in the ashtray and repositioned Kid to a more comfortable sleeping position. Then he shed his own clothing down to his long johns and Henley and crawled into his bed.
The following day, the doctor arrived late in the late afternoon to check on Kid. He offered no new remedies, but did remind Heyes again that it was usually two weeks before symptoms began to improve.
"Sometimes he just breathes so fast and shallow it worries me," Heyes said.
"Try giving him some of the opium. It will slow the breathing down as well as the coughing. Is he eating?"
Heyes nodded. "Mostly soups, nothing that takes energy to chew or swallow."
"That's alright, fluids help thin out the phlegm and makes it easier to cough it out. Meeting nature's calls alright?"
Again Heyes nodded.
"No fever?"
"Nope."
"If you can, try to get him to take some deep breaths. It helps expand the lungs and makes more room for oxygen."
"I'll do that."
"Well, come get me if you need me. Otherwise I'll be back on Monday."
"Thanks, Doc," Heyes said and walked the doctor to the door.
"Kid, let's get you drinking some of that herbal concoction again," Heyes said and started mixing a glass with the honey and herbs.
Heyes walked over to the bed and propped Kid up on some pillows. The jostling was enough to waken Kid. Heyes sat down on the bed and began spoon feeding the concoction into Kid's mouth. Kid's face squeezed into a very unpleasant look.
"That stuff's awful?" Kid croaked.
Heyes smiled. "You sound better. Getting some voice back again."
Kid looked at Heyes with heavy eyes. "I appreciate all you're doing, Heyes."
Heyes smiled and spooned another mouthful into Kid's mouth. "Nothing you wouldn't do."
"You playing poker tonight?"
"Thought I might."
"Why don't you buy...," Kid paused to catch his breath. "a bottle of whiskey."
"Think that'll help?"
"Can't hurt."
"Alright, if you'll try taking a couple of deep breaths. Doc says you need to do that as much as you can."
Kid tried to suck in a deep breath, but didn't get very far. "Aw, Heyes, that hurts."
"Want some opium,?"
Kid shook his head. "Don't like that stuff."
"It does act funny on you."
Kid nodded and slowly scooted himself back down in the bed. "I'm getting sore...," Again Kid paused to breathe. "From being in bed so long."
"Want to try sitting up for a while?"
"Maybe tomorrow," Kid said and closed his eyes and was quickly back to sleep.
Heyes pulled the blanket up to Kid's shoulder before retrieving a hundred dollars from the dresser. Then he slipped out of the room and over to the saloon.
Following his customary pattern, Heyes ordered a beer from the bar and watched for a vacancy at the poker tables. He studied the players at the three active tables and when two vacancies occurred almost at the same time, Heyes knew immediately which game he preferred and moved quickly to slip into the empty seat.
"Mind if I join you gentlemen?" Heyes asked with a smile and no one objected.
Heyes had chosen this particular game for a couple of reasons. The first was that each player kept a substantial amount of money visible on the table so he knew the betting was likely somewhat loose. The second reason was that two of the players bet as though placing great trust in Lady Luck, something Heyes himself never banked on, relying only on the odds of probability, and perhaps a little card counting. This put him at a distinct advantage and within an hour, Heyes had accumulated a healthy stack of money himself.
Two of the men at the table wore suits, so Heyes surmised they were both business men. The other four were all well dressed cowboys, or more likely ranch owners. Neither of the suited men bet loosely, but neither were particularly good poker players and neither were successful with presenting a good poker face. Heyes was very good at reading a man's face and always knew when to bet heavily and when not to where the suited men were concerned. Of the ranchers, one sitting next to Heyes and one sitting directly across from him were the two that often made high wagers with little in the way of cards to support their bets. This left the two ranchers sitting in the second and third seats to Heyes' right as the two to carefully study.
By eleven that evening, the table had dwindled to five as both the business men had decided to call it a night. By the end of the next hour, Heyes had accumulated over three thousand dollars.
Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid I'm going to have to call it a night," Heyes said, gathering his money from the table.
"So soon? The saloon doesn't close for another two hours," one of the loose betters said.
"I really am sorry, but my partner has been very much under the weather this past week and I really should get back to the hotel to check on him," Heyes explained.
"Mister a...?"
"Smith, Joshua Smith."
"Mr. Smith, we all engage in a private poker game at the Triple R Ranch every Thursday evening. Stakes run a little higher than this game, sometimes includes things other than money as a matter of fact. I think you would really enjoy the game. Will you still be in town on Thursday?"
Heyes smiled and nodded. "What kind of things other than money?" Heyes asked.
"Oh, sometimes stocks, sometimes a bit of land or livestock, sometimes gold or silver, whatever any of us happen to have on hand to spare."
"It sounds like a very interesting game, gentleman, but not being from around here, I'm afraid I have no other commodities to wager and my readily available cash is... somewhat limited."
"We've seen you play, Mr. Smith. The money your taking from the table right now, would likely be adequate for you," another rancher said.
"Where is the Triple R located?"
"Eight miles west of town, on the main road. You can't miss it."
Heyes pushed his chair back and stood up. "Well, when my partner is feeling well enough, we will be moving on. But if I am still in town on Thursday, I'll give it careful consideration." Heyes smiled pleasantly and gave a nod to each of the men at the table. He walked over to the bar and bought Kid's requested bottle of whiskey before returning to the hotel.
When Heyes walked into the hotel room, Kid was sitting up in bed in the midst of a wrenching coughing spell. Each time the coughing stopped, Kid tried to such in air which resulted in a high pitched whooping sound, and that in turn, led to another bout of coughing.
"Let me fix you some of the honey mixture," Heyes said and hurried to the table to concoct the drink.
"No... Heyes," Kid wheezed. "Whiskey," Kid demanded.
Heyes uncorked the bottle and poured two shots into a glass and brought it to Kid's outstretched hand. As soon as the coughing eased, Kid sucked in some air that made the whooping sound. Then he quickly took a gulp of the whiskey.
The whiskey burned in this throat and started another bout of coughing, though not as severe as before. When he stopped coughing, Kid repeated the process. This time the whiskey had numbed his throat enough to stave of any more coughing. Kid panted rapidly for over a minute, but slowly his breathing began to slow.
"How did you know the whiskey would work?" Heyes asked.
Kid shook his head weakly. "Didn't. … Just thought it might...knock me out...for a while."
"You been awake for long?" Heyes asked, feeling a bit guilty for having left Kid alone for such a long time."
"No...maybe half an hour."
"I shouldn't have stayed out so late."
Kid raised an arm and weakly brushed off the comment. "You win?"
Heyes smiled. "A little over three thousand dollars, Kid," he said triumphantly.
"Guess I don't have...to feel...bad...about getting us ….laid up here so long." Kid panted.
"Aw, Kid, it ain't your fault you got sick. Besides, this is a quiet, peaceful little town. I don't mind resting up here for a while longer."
Kid drank the last of the whiskey in his glass and held the empty glass out to Heyes. He eased himself back down in the bed. "Going back to sleep now, Heyes."
"Good night, Kid."
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Kid opted to forgo the opium as well as the herbal concoction and focus solely on the medicinal benefits of the whiskey. Each time he was awake the next day, Kid dutifully downed a shot of whiskey. Heyes was surprised that the whiskey did seem to decrease both the frequency and the intensity of the coughing spells, and by evening Kid's breathing seemed to be less labored and more consistently even. On the down side, the whiskey did seem to sedate Kid, and the amount of time he slept and the amount of fatigue he experienced did not ebb in the least. This, however didn't concern Heyes at all, as he knew sleep and nourishment were the two most important things Kid needed to reach a full recovery.
By the time the doctor visited on Monday, Kid was able to sit in a chair near the window for three separate hour long stretches, and thus was beginning to show definite signs of improving. Kid continued to rely on a shot of whiskey every four hours as well as after every bout of coughing. While the doctor was adamant that the improvement was due to the fact the illness was simply progressing though its typical cycle, Kid was equally adamant the the improvement was due to the self-prescribed alcohol. Heyes stayed neutral on the subject.
By Wednesday, while not fully recovered, Kid was thought to be able to ride, but Heyes told Kid about the poker game that was to take place the following day and convinced Kid that they should stay until Friday morning.
"What kind of wager that don't involve money are you prepared to offer?" Kid asked.
"Well, I was thinking I could offer the services of two able-bodied cowboys to work on the winner's ranch for a week for free," Heyes replied.
"So if you lose, we'll be dead broke and we'll be working as ranch hands for a week with no pay?" Kid asked.
Heyes rolled his tongue nervously against the inside of his cheek. "That's right, Kid."
"Can't come with anything better? Can't come up with something that just involves you?"
"Now, Kid, you know how good I am at poker. Why, the odds of us having to do that are just so small, they ain't even worth mentioning."
"Not by you, anyway," Kid grumbled.
"Can you come up with a better wager?"
Kid thought for a moment. "No," he said reluctantly. "Heyes, what if your were to win something crazy?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know...What if one of these fellows wagers his ranch or something like that?"
Heyes smiled. "Kid that ain't going to happen."
"But, what if it did?"
"Well, I guess we'd just sell it back to him."
Kid shook his head. "Heyes, this is just a stupid idea, playing poker for something other than money."
Heyes had to admit, but to himself only, that Kid was right about a number of things involving the impending poker game. Most importantly, Kid was right about the wager Heyes had thought of to offer. A week of free work by the both of them only carried a monetary value of about twenty dollars. He had to come up with a better enticement
That's when the idea hit him. Heyes stifled a smile. He knew he could not tell Kid his new plan as Kid would be not only adamantly opposed, he would likely pack his things and ride off without him and never look back.
Late in the afternoon, Heyes set out for the Triple R ranch while Kid felt well enough to eat supper in the hotel dining room before crossing the street to the saloon to purchase a bottle of whiskey, maybe drink a beer, and then return to his room.
Heyes rode up to the Triple R Ranch and tethered his horse to the post. In his possession was $3500, nearly all the money he and Kid had to their names. He tapped his back pocket with his hand and walked up to the house.
Heyes was the last to arrive. He was greeted by all as he slipped into the only remaining empty seat. The game went on for hours and Heyes accumulated an additional five thousand dollars, as well as a three year old gelding wagered by one of the ranchers. Near midnight, the final hand was played and the wagers were the highest of the evening. Two and three thousand dollar raises were recklessly tossed out on the table.
With only two ranchers and Heyes remaining in the game, Both Heyes and the owner of the Triple R were out of cash. Continuing in the game would require non monetary bets from boy both of them.
"I've got a two year old thoroughbred race horse out in my barn with a Kentucky pedigree."
"Are you talking about Buchanon?" the other rancher asked.
"I am indeed."
"That is one fine horse."
"And that's my wager."
"That horse has got to be worth at least five thousand dollars. I'll accept that wager. I'll see you five thousand dollars, and raise you eight thousand."
It would cost Heyes eight thousand dollars to remain in the game. He held his cards in his hand and carefully splayed them into his view. Three jacks, two tens, a strong full house.
"Gentlemen, as you can plainly see, I am cash strapped at the moment. But I have a non-monetary wager to offer," Heyes said slowly.
"Which is?"
Heyes looked at each of the two remaining players. "The value of my offer is... ten thousand dollars," Heyes began.
"Still ain't told us what it is, Mr. Smith."
Heyes uttered a nervous chuckle. "My wager is revealing to you the exact location of the notorious outlaw... Hannibal Heyes."
Both the ranchers exchanged glances.
"You're telling me this outlaw is worth ten thousand dollars?"
Heyes nodded.
"And you know where he is?"
Heyes nodded.
"Then why ain't you turned him in?"
"Well, you see gentleman... Hannibal Heyes is a distant relative of mine...a third cousin, he is."
"So you would turn in your own kin?"
"Only if I lose," Heyes said with a smile.
"There's a lot at stake here on the table, Mr. Smith. And your wager carries a lot of what ifs. For example, what if Heyes is wherever it is you say, what do we do about it? What if we manage to capture him..."
"Dead or alive," Heyes added
"You're willing to risk your cousin's life?"
Heyes shook his head. "I'd only be risking his life if I wasn't confident about my hand."
"Alright, Mr. Smith, I'll accept your wager."
The owner of the horse shook his head and tossed in his cards. "Fold."
It was now down to the two players. The other fellow studied Heyes, but could not tell if Heyes was bluffing.
"I'll match your ten thousand Mr. Smith. And I call."
Heyes took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He splayed his hand and laid it on the table. "Full house," he said.
The rancher paused, watching Heyes closely. Finally he threw his cards down in disgust.
"You play some mighty fine poker, Mr. Smith."
Heyes smiled broadly and began gathering the money on the table.
"You really know where this Hannibal Heyes is?"
Heyes smiled, "In an indirect sort of way."
"Would you have really told us?"
Heyes smiled. I guess we'll never know the answer to that one, will we? Now,I have no need for a thoroughbred race horse," Heyes said to the former owner of the horse. "Be willing to sell him back to you for the five thousand dollar value that was mentioned.
The rancher nodded his agreement as he had great confidence that horse would one day be a race winner and stud fees alone would more than earn his five thousand dollars back.
"I's be willing to sell the other horse back as well. I really have no need of him."
The other rancher also agreed.
"Well gentlemen, my partner is feeling much better and we will be on our way in the morning. That's kind of a pity as I would very much like to participate in another one of these poker nights."
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Heyes expected Kid to be fast asleep when he returned to the hotel room that night, but was surprised to find Kid sitting at the table cleaning his gun.
"You win?" Kid asked anxiously
Heyes smiled and opened his saddle bags to reveal stacks and stacks of cash. "Almost thirty-five thousand dollars," Heyes exclaimed.
Kid smiled broadly and walked over to the bed to pick up a handful of money and toss it high into the air. He laughed hard which brought on a brief coughing spell, but without the whooping sound they had both become familiar with hearing.
"I can't believe they let you make such a lame wager as us to let you stay in the game," Kid exclaimed.
"Well I...changed the offer."
"To what?"
"To me."
"You?" Kid said,. "What do you mean, you?" he asked with great irritation in his voice.
"Now, Kid, don't go getting proddy. They didn't know I was betting me."
Kid looked totally confused.
"What are you talking about?"
"I wagered the location of Hannibal Heyes. Said he could be turned in for the reward."
"YOU DID WHAT?"
"Kid, it don't matter now. I won."
"But you couldda lost, Heyes."
"No I couldn't. I counted cards very carefully in that last hand. I knew I would win when I made that wager, Kid," Heyes lied.
Kid softened, but continued to look at his partner skeptically.
"Heyes, no matter what, don't ever make that kind of wager again. I don't care if your crown jewels are on the table. Never, make that kind of wager again. I swear I'll shoot you myself and collect the reward if you ever do that again."
"I won't, Kid," Heyes promised.
"Good."
"Next time, I'll wager your crown jewels."
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Whooping cough had several names in earlier centuries, including chincough, pertussis, and kinkcough (although the latter was a term generally confined to Scotland). While Whooping cough could be fatal in adults, it is assumed by both Heyes and the doctor that Kid's illness was temporarily debilitating, and not so severe as to cause either of them to think it might be fatal.
Buchanan did in fact win the 1994 Kentucky Derby. The horse was only used for stud service three times following the Derby win and died at the age of seventeen.