On To Verdi
The river flowed slowly through miles of shallow riverbed that was peppered heavily with rocks and a few small boulders scattered into the mix. The river's banks were heavily decorated with fallen leaves that had not yet lost their vibrant golden colors, and the water reflected the deep blue sky with a framing of the barren trees along the edge.
Heyes and Curry rode slowly following the bank of the river as Kid's aging horse stubbornly refused to pick up her pace. But the warmth of the sun and the solitary landscape eased any nervous apprehensions as they neared the Nevada border.
"I've got an interesting fact for you Kid," Heyes said and pushed his hat back a bit on his head.
"If you're about to tell me that Verdi is the place where the first train robbery in the west occurred, I already know," Kid replied with a grin.
"Over forty-one thousand dollars was taken from that train," Heyes added.
"Now that, I didn't know."
"And the robbers weren't too good at what they done. Within a week every last one of em was caught and all but about two thousand dollars was recovered."
"Just think, Heyes. The most we ever got was fifty thousand and that's still sitting in the bottom of a pond," Kid said with a chuckle.
"Yeah, but none of them boys got amnesty," Heyes reminded his partner.
"Neither have we, Heyes. Neither have we."
Heyes frowned but nodded his head, then pulled his hat up to block the sun from his eyes.
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Despite the fact that Verdi was the nearest town to several large lumber camps and the largest ice storage business in the west, the town itself was quite small, no more than a city block. The Verdi Hotel was a two story building with a second story balcony, a feature Kid always appreciated in the event of a much needed fast escape. Two saloons dotted the street, along with a one story school house, a Mercantile, and a small Presbyterian Church. Much to their chagrin, a small jail was adjacent to an equally small bank. At the far end of the street was a livery stable.
"Still early enough in the day Heyes, we could probably get to Reno by nightfall," Kid suggested.
"Look how quiet this place is, Kid, and since when have you been in a hurry to get back to Wyoming?"
Kid sighed. "I ain't. I just got an itchy feeling though."
"So scratch it Kid. Nothing is going to go wrong."
"Heyes, how many times do I have to tell you not to say things like that? Now I know something is going to go wrong."
Heyes shook his head. "Come on, let's go see how much it's gonna cost to trade in that old nag of yours."
"The one I'm riding or the one I'm talking to?"
Heyes ignored the sarcasm and they headed down the street to the livery.
Kid spent a good twenty minutes dickering the price of a horse and in the end, though definitely overpriced, Kid did end up with horse that he felt could likely gallop in a crisis.
"Heyes, you notice that fella seemed little too interested in you?" Kid asked as they made their way toward the hotel.
"Probably could just tell I got more horse sense than you and was afraid I'd join in on the price bickering you two were doing."
Kid shook his head. "Uh-uh. Looked more to me like someone trying to figure out where he'd seen that face before."
"Kid, you really do worry too much. This town ain't got more than fifty people in it and it ain't likely even one of em has been more than ten miles from home. Besides, we never done no robbing in Nevada."
"You just keep talking, Heyes. I'll keep watching your back."
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"How does a town this size manage to keep two saloons in business?" Heyes asked the hotel clerk as they registered.
"Come the weekend, all the lumberjacks come into town. Place gets pretty lively for twenty-four hours or so."
"Poker games, I suppose?" Heyes asked.
"High stakes poker is ten miles down the road in Reno but a fellow can profit a couple of hundred dollars here on a Saturday night."
"Well, I doubt that we'll be staying around here that long," Kid quipped and reached for the room key. "Come on Mr. Smith, let's get our things dropped off. I'm getting a bit hungry."
Ten minutes later they stepped out on to the boardwalk on their way to the saloon when Kid saw the livery owner bustling down the street.
"Now where do you suppose he's off to in such a hurry?"
"Likely home for supper," Heyes replied and stepped out onto the street.
When they reached the other side of the street, Kid grabbed Heyes' arm as he saw the livery owner approaching the Sheriff's office. They both stood nervously and watched and both uttered a sigh of relief when the man continued on toward the bank.
"You overpaid so much he likely hasn't had that much cash on hand for months and wanted to get it into the bank as soon as possible."
"Very funny, Heyes," Kid replied and they continued on their way into the saloon.
Walking into the saloon and up to the bar, they each ordered a beer. Again, Kid thought Heyes was getting a rather scrutinizing look from the bartender.
"You two know each other?' Kid asked rather bluntly.
The bartender shook his head nervously and distanced himself to the far end of the bar while Heyes gave Kid a questioningly look. The bartender quickly began washing some glasses, giving Heyes and Kid only an occasional glance.
"What's wrong with you?' Heyes whispered to his partner.
Kid gave a slight shrug. "He was looking at you the same way the livery fella was. They both think they recognize you," Kid whispered in return.
"If they recognize me, why don't they recognize you?"
Kid shook his head. "You said there's about fifty people in this town. We've only talked to three of them and two of those act like they recognize you somehow. It just makes me wonder if this is a safe town to be in."
"You think we ought to up and leave?" Heyes asked, taking his partner's concerns seriously.
But Heyes unfortunately did not get an answer to his question, as just when Kid turned to address him, the bat wing doors swung open and in walked the Sheriff who ambled up to the bar and stood next to Heyes. Both Heyes and Curry gave the Sheriff a nervous smile.
"You boys just passing through Verdi?" the Sheriff asked.
"Yes sir," they both replied.
"Where you headed?"
"Reno next," Heyes told him.
"Then where?"
"We're on our way back to Wyoming... Is there a problem, Sheriff?" Heyes asked.
"Well," the Sheriff said as his hand fell casually next to his gun, a move that did not go unnoticed by Kid who knew better than to draw on a lawman.
But the Sheriff did pull his gun and behind them, Kid and Heyes heard the bartender's rifle being cocked as well. Neither Heyes nor Kid so much as flinched.
"I'd like you boys to put your hardware on the bar," the Sheriff instructed them.
Slowly and carefully Heyes and Kid lifted their guns from their holsters and placed them on the bar.
"At least tell us what this is about," Heyes said.
"Well, I'll know better myself once I go through all my wanted posters," the Sheriff replied.
"Wanted posters?" Kid asked.
"You think we're outlaws?" Heyes asked.
"Henry, the fella who owns the livery, thinks you might be an outlaw that robbed a train he was on once over near Lockwood."
"Never been to Lockwood, Sheriff," Heyes replied.
"What outlaws?" Kid asked.
The Sheriff looked directly at Heyes. "Henry thinks you just might be The Sundance Kid and if you are, well that just might make your friend here Butch Cassidy."
"That' who you look like," the Bartender exclaimed as he finally put the pieces together in his brain.
"Gentlemen, my name is Joshua Smith. My friend here is Thaddeus Jones. I can assure you both we are not Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."
"Ain't Butch and Sundance down in South America? Bulimia, I think," Kid said.
"Bolivia," Heyes corrected with an exasperated expression. "And ain't they in their thirties, maybe even forty by now?"
"Well, I know they are thought to be in South America, but there's nothing stopping either one of them from sneaking back in to the U.S of A. And I'm obliged to make sure they ain't here in my town. So, you boys shouldn't mind spending a few hours in my jail whilst I go through my wanted posters."
Heyes looked at Kid and sighed heavily before slowly raising his hands in the air.
"Lead the way," he told the Sheriff.
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Walking into the jail, Heyes and Kid saw a large stack of posters sitting on the Sheriff's desk. They also saw their own wanted posters hanging on the wall behind the Sheriff's desk, along with half a dozen other posters.
"Have to ask you boys to empty your pockets and remove your gun belts," the Sheriff instructed them and they both complied before being led into a cell.
"Sheriff, I promise you we are not Butch and Sundance," Heyes again assured the Sheriff.
"Well, if you're not, then this shouldn't take more than a couple of hours," the Sheriff replied.
"Send a telegram to Sheriff Lom Trevors in Porterville, Wyoming. He can verify the fact that we are indeed Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones," Heyes suggested.
"One thing at a time here. First I'm going through these posters, then I'll send off a telegram if I need to."
Kid laid down on one of the cots and pulled his hat over his face. "Wake me when this is over Mr. Smith," he told Heyes.
The Sheriff walked over to his desk and sat down, then slid the stack of wanted posters in front of him and began looking at each poster one at a time.
"You're going through every poster?" Heyes asked in protest. "Why not just look at the Butch and Sundance posters?"
"Well, that would make me a little remiss in my duty," the Sheriff replied.
Heyes sighed heavily and began pacing. "You know Mr. Jones, I'm beginning to think you were right about this town."
Kid made no reply.
"Sheriff, we just come from Floriston, and Truckee before that. We actually had some dealings with the Sheriff in Truckee. Wire him. He can tell you who we are."
"Like I said before boys, all in due time."
An hour later, the Sheriff came across the poster for The Sundance Kid and held it up for inspection.
"Well, here we are," he announced and Heyes stopped pacing and approached the bars of the cell.
"What's it say?"
"Says Harry Longbaugh, alias The Sundance Kid."
"And the description?" Heyes asked.
"Age thirty-five to forty."
"There you go," Heyes said. "almost ten years older than me."
"Complexion dark, looks like quarter breed Indian," the Sheriff read, then lowered the poster and took a good look at Heyes. "Eyes black. Height five feet nine inches."
"I'm five eleven," Heyes said defensively.
"Hair black. Mustache black."
"I don't wear a mustache."
"Weight one sixty-five to one seventy. Build, rather slim. Nose, rather long."
"He's got you with the nose, Mr. Smith," Kid mumbled.
"Would you stop it Thaddeus. You're not helping here."
The Sheriff set the wanted poster aside and picked up the poster for Butch Cassidy.
"Now let's just take a look at the other fellow," the Sheriff said.
Kid remained on the cot with his hat covering his face. He had no intention of making things easier for the Sheriff.
"Butch Cassidy, age thirty-six, weight one hundred sixty-five pounds. Light complexion. Eyes blue. Two cut scars on the back of the head. Small scar under the left eye. Small brown mole on the calf of the left leg. Height five feet nine inches. Medium build. Flaxen hair. Sandy mustache if worn."
Kid lifted his hat from his face and stood up to join his partner at the front of the cell.
"Flaxen hair and blue eyes is pretty common. Ain't got but the one scar and that's on the underside of my chin. Ain't got no mole on my left leg. Like Mr. Smith, I am five feet eleven inches. Iffin you would like to confirm any of them things, Sheriff, then by all means step right on in here."
The Sheriff sighed. "You're right. You're both right. Ain't close enough matches and I got no other call to hold you. But I am keeping you two long enough to check with the Sheriff in Truckee and the one in Porterville. If your stories hold true, you'll be outta here just as soon as I get the replies."
The Sheriff got up from his desk and walked over to the cell. "I'll go send those telegrams now. Might be morning before I get a reply though."
Kid nodded and ambled back to the cot and laid down. Heyes remained at the front of the cell and watched the Sheriff walk out of the office.
Kid sprung to his feet the moment the door to the jail closed.
"Heyes, we gotta get our posters off the that wall. If he was to notice them..."
Heyes smiled and reached into his boot and withdrew his lock pick. "I guess I'd better hurry."
Unlocking the door, Heyes slipped out of the cell and rushed over to the wall where he pulled down the two posters and stuffed them into his back pocket.
"Better replace them with a couple of posters from that pile," Kid suggested.
Heyes quickly grabbed two posters from the center of the stack and pegged them to the wall. Then he slipped back into the cell and pulled the door closed and, using his pick once more, locked the cell back up again.
Forty minutes later the Sheriff returned. By this time Heyes was also lying on one of the cots and he raised his head when the Sheriff walked into the jail.
"Got a reply from the Sheriff in Truckee almost right away. He says you two were very helpful with an unfortunate incident over that way."
Heyes smiled and sat up on the edge of the cot. "So now you believe us, that we are Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones?"
The Sheriff nodded. "Yeah, I believe you. I'm still gonna wait till I hear from the Sheriff in Porterville, but if he says you are who you say you are, I'll let you go."
"Won't mind if we don't stay around to enjoy more of this town's friendly hospitality will you?" Kid asked from beneath his hat.
The Sheriff smiled. "No, I can't say I'd blame you for leaving," he replied.
A reply telegram from Lom Trevors arrived around midnight.
"You're Sheriff friend from Porterville tells me you're Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones."
"Sheriff, my friend here is right about this town and I think we will leave yet tonight," Heyes said as the Sheriff unlocked the cell to let them out and to give them back their guns and holsters. "But there's a slight problem. Our horses and gear are at the livery."
"You go get packed up and I'll go wake Henry. We'll meet you at the livery in twenty minutes."
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"Heyes," Kid said after they had been on the road to Reno for over an hour. "It ain't more than forty miles between Truckee and Verdi."
"Yeah."
"And between those two towns, we sure have had a lot to deal with."
"You're right on that account."
"And it's taken a heck of a long time to travel them forty miles."
"Right again."
"And I ain't slept more than six hours in all that time."
"I'm getting a little tired myself, Kid."
"Well I know you're looking forward to doing some gambling when we get to Reno."
"True. I think we ought to supplement our income."
"And we should be in Reno by daybreak."
"You sound like you have a plan, Kid."
"We don't stable the horses when we get to Reno. We get some breakfast, we get some sleep, and if all seems quiet enough, then we'll board the horses."
"Why's that?"
"Because if even one person looks at you or me the way them two fellas looked at you in Verdi, we're high-tailing it outta town. Agreed?"
Heyes smiled. "I appreciate the way you're always watching my back, Kid. Agreed."