Black Hat With Silver Studs
This story occurs during the same time as "Wide Brim and Conchos" and tells Heyes' adventure.
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From the peak of a hill, a safe distance from where he and Kid split up, Heyes watched as a cloud of dust split and veered off in a widening "V" shape, half the posse following his partner and half following him. The posse trailed far enough behind that Heyes was confident they would both be able to lose them and they had agreed to meet up within the next week in the town of Benton. His eyes shifted to the mountain pass his partner had taken but the distance was too great to discern whether Kid had yet reached the pass. So he gave his reins a hard pull and slammed his heels against the sides of the sorrel and further distanced himself from both the posse and his partner.
Two days later Heyes arrived in the town of Benton, a small town near the western base of the Wind River Mountains. To the north, less than fifty miles lay the largest of the Shoshone Reservations which caused Heyes some honest concern, knowing Kid had taken a direction that led him precariously close to that land.
Three nights without sleep, Heyes wanted nothing more than a cold beer and a warm bed. Leaving his horse at the livery, Heyes threw his saddle bags over his shoulder and went first to the hotel to register and drop off his saddle bags. Then he headed to the saloon.
"Beer," he said as he leaned his forearms against the counter.
"Ten cents," the bartender replied when he brought the drink.
"Nice little town," Heyes commented and placed the dime on the counter. "Seems pretty quiet for a Friday night."
"Most of the ranchers are restricting the hands to the ranch. Shoshone have been stealing cattle and the ranchers have to post men to watch the herds at night."
"I'm not all that familiar with the different tribes, but Shoshone can be pretty aggressive I can't they?"
"They can, but it's mostly directed at other tribes or trespassers. There's been trouble a few times when a wagon train has tried to cross Shoshone Reservation land, but I ain't heard of any uprisings in the past year or more."
"Ah," Heyes replied and took the last long gulp of his beer. "Thanks."
Heyes set the glass down on the counter and headed back to the hotel. Never one to sleep well, Heyes lay in the dark room, trying to convince himself not to worry about his partner. They had agreed to meet within a week, so Heyes had four more days to temper his patience.
As the week came to a close and Kid has still not arrived, Heyes thoughts turned to careful calculation and planning. He knew the risk was too great to go looking for Kid alone. If Kid had been captured or killed by the Shoshone, Heyes risked a similar fate if he were to venture along the same route. Plus, there was always the possibility that Kid had in fact been captured by the posse. To rule out that possibility, Heyes sent a telegram to Lom Trevors.
Parted company with Mr. Jones over a week ago near Wind River Mountains. Was to meet in Benson by now. Mr. Jones has not arrived. Any help would be appreciated. J. Smith.
"When a reply comes would you bring to the hotel clerk?" Heyes asked as he handed the note to the telegrapher.
"Certainly Mt. Smith."
It was not until late the following afternoon that the reply arrived.
Only eights towns in 100 mile radius of Benton. Jones not in any of them. Will contact Benton Sheriff. Do not get involved. Will keep you posted. Lom.
Heyes sighed heavily as he folded the telegram and put it in his pocket before heading to his room. If Kid had not been captured by the posse, than he was most likely dead or captured by the Shoshone, and Heyes had only Lom Trevors, a thousand miles across the state to rely on for answers.
Three days later, on his way to breakfast, Heyes saw a half a dozen soldiers ride into town and stop at the Sheriff's office. His heart sank. If those soldiers were here to search for Kid, then a capture by the Shoshone was the most likely train of thought. Heyes bolted to the telegraph office but there was no message waiting for him. Stepping back outside, Heyes saw the soldiers mount up and ride off toward the mountains. His mind racing, he knew he had but one choice. He headed down the street toward the livery.
Twenty minutes later, Heyes was on the road, maintaining a distance, but following the band of soldiers.
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Heyes was rounding a bend late in the afternoon when he heard the sound of the gun being cocked.
"Hold it right there."
Heyes stopped and raised his hands. The afternoon sun had dropped low against the horizon and Heyes could discern only the shape of the man standing on the hill.
"Why are you following us?"
Heyes lifted his hat from his head to use it to block the sun, but the soldier fired and the hat flew out of his hand.
"Toss your gun and your rifle and get down off that horse," the soldier ordered.
Heyes did as instructed, purposely tossing his weapons in the opposite direction from where his hat lay.
"Now, bring your horse and walk on up here. I think you'd best talk to the Captain."
"Mind if I gather my hat?" Heyes asked and took several slow, cautious steps, picked up his hat, then gathered the reins of his horse and climbed the hill.
"Move on ahead of me now," the soldier said, his .22 still pointed at Heyes. "Camp is just the other side of them trees."
"What about my gun, my rifle?"
"We'll gather them up later. Now go on."
As they entered the camp, one of the soldiers took the reins from Heyes and led the horse to where the other horses were tethered. The Captain was standing near the campfire with a cup of coffee in his hand and motioned to Heyes to approach and sit down.
"So you're the reason for the gunshot," the Captain said as he poured Heyes a cup of coffee.
Heyes poked his finger through the hole in his hat that the soldier had created and held his hat up for display.
"Well, I'm certainly glad he hit my hat and not me. Them little .22s can sting."
The captain smiled and handed Heyes the coffee. "Why are you following us?"
"You're looking for a man that disappeared a few days ago, a man by the name of Thaddeus Jones. The Benton Sheriff contacted you about it and he did that at the request of Sheriff Lom Trevors. We think he might be being held by the Shoshone."
"Tell me why you know so much about this?"
"Because Thaddeus Jones is my cousin. We was supposed to meet in Benson. He never arrived."
"And you are?"
"Names Joshua Smith."
"Well, Mr. Smith, tracking a group of soldiers is not a wise thing to do. In fact, I could have you arrested for interference with a government investigation."
Heyes smiled. "But you won't."
"And why is that?"
"Because I can show you the trail he was on when he disappeared. Save you a lot of time, maybe even a lot of trouble."
The Captain gave this notion some pause. "Alright. But we are confiscating your weapons, Mr. Smith"
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"We was right here when we split up," Heyes told the Captain the next day when they had reached the spot.
"Tell me Mr. Smith, why did you and Mr. Jones feel the need to split up?"
Heyes turned in his saddle and pointed to a spot in the valley below. "We could see a bunch of riders right down there. Figured they was Shoshone. Also figured our best bet to lose them was to split up. If you look up ahead there, you can see where just one set of horse tracks is heading up toward that pass. Over there's my tracks heading east."
"The Shoshone Reservation begins less than ten miles from here. If his tracks lead into that reservation, we are not authorized to cross that border."
"You mean you're not going in there to get him?"
"Mr. Smith, if his tracks lead into the reservation, your cousin is either dead or he is a prisoner of the Shoshone. We're a band of six. The boarder is as far as we go... and I am authorized to stop you from entering."
Heyes sighed and shook his head as hopes of rescuing his partner were suddenly dashed.
Less than a mile from the Shoshone boarder, a dozen more horse tracks suddenly appeared, then moved in the direction of the border. Lying in the dirt was Kid's blue bandanna. Heyes dismounted and picked up the bandanna and slipped it in his pocket.
"I'm sorry Mr. Smith. I really am. But we're returning to town now," the Captain told Heyes.
The unit of soldiers and a very discouraged Heyes returned to town and Heyes' gun and rifle were returned to him. Both Heyes and the Sheriff sent telegrams to Lom Trevors.
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Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and still no word or sign from Kid. It was obvious to Heyes that Kid had been captured and escorted into the reservation, but beyond that, Heyes knew nothing. For six months Heyes covered that hundred mile radius of towns, moving from one of the eight towns to another, hoping Kid could manage to escape and make his way to the nearest of these towns. He never dismissed his notion that Kid was alive, but his hopes of ever finding Kid again had begun to wane.
Then one day, in one of these no name towns, Heyes received a reply from a telegram he had sent to Lom.
Kid was in Benton.
Heyes rode nonstop for three days and three nights, reaching Benton near midnight. He marched into the hotel tattered and dusty and rang the desk bell.
The night manager appeared and took one look at Heyes and announced the hotel was full.
"I'm not looking for a room. I'm looking for a friend of mine," Heyes said.
"If you'll give me your name, I'll see if anyone of our guests has left word that we should be expecting you."
"Joshua Smith."
The clerk looked at his register but found no notation referring to any Joshua Smith.
"I'm sorry sir but no one has requested you be notified."
Heyes was exhausted and at this point very short tempered, and he slid his gun from it's holster and pointed it at the clerk.
"Now I understand you likely have a policy of not telling strangers who you or guests are and I respect that. But tonight you're making an exception. I'm looking for Thaddeus Jones."
"Room two sixteen."
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Two hours later Heyes and Kid sat at a table nursing a glass of whiskey in the nearly empty saloon.
"So that's it, Heyes. Now you know the whole story," Kid said. "Including why I got my new hat."
Heyes smiled. "You know, there's a funny coincidence about our hats," Heyes said and lifted his hat from his head and poked his finger through the hole left by the soldier's bullet. "I got this while looking for you."
Kid's brow furled. "You got shot at?"
"Uh-uh, by an army soldier who was looking for you."
Kid smiled. "Well, I know a good Millinery in this town, Heyes. Tomorrow you can get a new hat."
"Nope," Heyes replied. "This hole represents something to me, Kid. This hole reminds me that a person should never give up hope. It reminds me that together or separate, you and me is always partners, and we always will be."
"But Heyes," Kid said as he took the hat in his hand and poked his own finger through the hole. "You gotta admit it's pretty shabby looking. A new hat would suit you. Even my old hat would look better on you than this."
Heyes shook his head and reached for his hat and proudly placed it on his head.
"Nope," he sighed. "I ain't never giving up this hat, Kid."
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Author's Note: An amused thank you to Penski for urging the telling of this story.