Take the Money and Run
(As leader of the Devil's Hole gang, Heyes was well aware that a robbery could not be considered a complete success until the entire gang was safely ack in the security of the Devil's Hole compound).
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Looking at it technically, Heyes would say the bank robbery was pulled off without a hitch. The safe at the Baggs Bank was as old a safe as Heyes had ever seen and the tumblers were so loud that he had not even needed to press his ear against the door to successfully open the safe on his first attempt. Kid and Wheat had expertly guarded the front door and windows, and Kyle had anxiously stood by with dynamite, blasting caps and fuses in his coat pocket and secretly hoping for the opportunity to demonstrate his blasting skills. Others had guarded the alley and kept the horses ready for a quick departure. Yes, the robbery itself had been carried out with flying colors and Heyes had nearly thirty-five thousand dollars securely packed in his saddle bags.
But the escape was a horse of a different color.
Just days earlier, Heyes and Kid had ventured into the town of Baggs to scout out the potential dangers. Both had paid particular attention to the Carbon County Sheriff, a man by the name of Harvey Overland, a sixty odd year old man whom, they both concluded, was likely none too skilled at forming a posse and giving chase. His age and portly size likely contributed to his slow gait, and his thick wire rim glasses suggested tracking was no longer a skill he possessed. Deputy Horton was younger but no thinner than his boss, and Heyes guessed the man was no more skilled than the Sheriff.
Completing their assessment of the law enforcement in the town, they moved on to the bank where Heyes stood in line to change to a ten dollar bill and take advantage of the view behind the teller's cage where he first caught sight of the outdated safe. Kid lingered near the entrance door, carefully eyeing the locations of the windows, the safe, and the back door.
Once outside, they slipped down the alley that ran along the side of the bank and extended three blocks until it came to a second city street. This street ran perpendicular to the main street, and provided an easy escape out of town.
But for all their scouting, neither Heyes nor Kid had seen, and therefore had not taken into account, the Apache Indian that Sheriff Overland had on his payroll. Nor did they take into account that the saloon was located directly across from the alley that ran along the side the bank, putting the outlaw's horses in plain view of the bartender or anyone standing at the bar. They had no way of knowing that on the night of the robbery, one of those bar patrons would happen to be Deputy Horton.
So, late the following Saturday night, with the actual robbery completed and the stacks of money stuffed inside the leader's saddle bags, the Devil's Hole gang were all astride their horses in the narrow alley when the gunfire erupted from behind the batwing doors of the saloon. They all expertly spurred their horses into a fast gallop and raced toward the far end of the alley. But yet another unforeseeable hitch in the plan occurred when several of the town's men who had been drinking in the saloon, were waiting for the gang as they emerged from the alley and entered the street, and another round of gunfire was exchanged.
Wheat and Kid, whose job it was to guard the backs of the others, were the last to enter the street and both were struck by bullets. Wheat took a shot in the left arm, while Kid was hit in the right thigh. Both slumped forward in their saddles, making themselves as small a target as they could. They each held tight to their reins and both managed to return fire, while keeping up with the rest of the gang. In the time it took the Sheriff to round up a posse, the outlaws managed to put a good five miles between them and the town of Baggs before the posse began their pursuit.
Focused solely on their escape, the gang ran their horses hard. They had thirty miles to cover before reaching the safety of the Devil's Hole compound. Both Wheat and Kid kept up with the gang and even managed a few back glances, but the exertion was taking its toll. Each time the gang stopped to offer the horses a small respite and a hat full of water, Wheat and Kid remained in their saddles to check the severity of their wounds and simply catch their breath.
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"They gotta have an Apache with them," Heyes said as he lay flat on a steep cliff watching the flickering of a dozen torches never veering off the course the outlaws had taken. "There's no moon, it's after midnight, and that valley is pitch black, yet they're following our exact path. No one can track that well under those conditions, except an Apache."
"Maybe they know where Devil's Hole is, so they ain't exactly following us, as they are just heading toward the Hole," Kyle suggested.
Ordinarily Heyes would have paid little attention to Kyle's comment, but he didn't dare discount any possibility and he gave Kyle an acknowledging nod. "If that's the case, this pass should slow them down a little on such a dark night."
"Even an Apache can't track when it's this dark, can he?" Lobo asked.
"Judging by the progress of that posse, I'd say he very likely can," Heyes replied.
Pulling himself to his feet, Heyes brushed off his pants and turned to face the members of the Devil's Hole gang. Most of the men were taking this brief respite as a chance to be out of their saddles, but Wheat and Kid, both hurting from the gunshot wounds, remained on their horses. Both knew if they dismounted, they very likely might not be able to climb back into their saddles.
Heyes grabbed his canteen and walked over to Wheat first to examine the condition of the bandanna Wheat had managed to tie above the wound in his upper left arm. "You doing alright, Wheat?" he asked as he offered the canteen to Wheat, then reached up to tighten the bandanna.
"I'll manage," Wheat replied and took a long swallow of the water. "I think Kid's the one to worry about."
Heyes moved to his partner and examined the bandanna tied about his right thigh and saw that blood still oozed freely from the wound.
"That bandanna's not tight enough," Heyes observed. "Give me your belt, Kid."
"I'm alright," Kid replied, trying to brush off the seriousness of his injury.
"Glad to hear it, now give me your belt."
Kid sighed heavily knowing he was in no condition to argue, and struggled to stay in the saddle as he unfastened his belt and pulled it through the hoops, then handed it to his partner.
While Kid drank from the canteen, Heyes skillfully slid the belt under Kid's thigh just above the wound. He looped the belt though the buckle and cinched it tight, then looped the remainder of the strap though the tightened belt. It didn't take long for the blood flow to lessen.
"That should get you back to the Hole, but loosen it up for a few minutes every time we stop."
Kid nodded. He was well aware of the way to treat a tourniquet.
"We're going to split up," Heyes announced as he turned back toward the group. "And we're splitting the money so half goes with each group. No sense losing everything if some of us get caught."
"Kid and me will go on our own Heyes," Wheat said without bothering to consult the other injured party.
"No you won't. We're all in this together," Heyes replied.
"No, Wheat's right, Heyes. We can't keep up with the rest of you. If we can, we'll head for the back entrance. No posse is gonna try to follow us through woods that thick."
Heyes wanted to protest, but Kid beat him to the draw. "It's decided, Heyes. Wheat and me will manage just fine. We'll just go about it slower than the rest of you."
"Heyes, we better get moving," Preacher called to him. "We might have a two or three hour lead right now, but that's likely to change once the sun's up, especially if Kyle's right about them knowing where the Hole is."
Heyes still hesitated and he turned his attention back to Wheat and Kid. "You both got enough water?"
"Canteens are full," Wheat replied.
"And food?"
"Enough for a couple of days," Kid replied.
"What about ammunition?"
"Heyes, you're wasting time," Kid reminded him.
"If you're not back within twelve hours of us, we'll come looking for you."
Kid tried to smile. "We're counting on that."
"Alright, Preacher, bring your saddlebags over here for half the money. The rest of you saddle up. Six of you go with Preacher. The rest of you come with me."
After half the money was loaded into Preacher's saddlebags, Heyes mounted his own horse and lead the sorrel up next to Kid. Eyes locked and no words were needed to express the concern each held for the other. After a long pause, Heyes nudged his horse forward and he and the other gang members were soon out of sight.
"Now, don't lie to me, Kid. Are you capable of riding?" Wheat asked.
Kid nodded. "I ain't fallen off a horse yet."
"Always a first time."
"Wheat, I can ride."
"Well, the way I figure, Heyes and those boys headed west. Preacher took the others south and will likely swing down into Colorado, then back up through the Bishop Mountains. If you and me is going the back way into the Hole, I figure we head southwest."
"We can lose the posse easy enough once we hit the Bishop Mountains," Kid said.
"Even leaving right now, as slow as we'll be moving, it'll likely be late afternoon tomorrow before we hit that range, though."
"The longer we sit here talking about it, the later it's gonna be, Wheat. I hafta say I rather fancy getting back to the Hole as quick as possible and getting these bullets dug out."
"Alright. Let's ride then. But if you start feeling too weak to stay in the saddle, you let me know before you fall out of it. I'll tie you in the saddle if I hafta."
"And you do the same," Kid told him.
They traveled slowly in the pitch black darkness of the moonless night, stopping hourly to rest, take sips of water, and check the status of their wounds. Kid frequently loosened the belt tourniquet and carefully watched for any expansion or fresh dampness on the blood stained pant leg before cinching the belt tight once again. Then he'd move up beside Wheat and do the same to Wheat's bandanna tourniquet.
"How far you think we've gone?" Kid asked during the most recent such stop.
"I'm guessing we covering about three miles an hour, maybe four."
"Ten miles in three hours? It's gonna be sunup soon. They'll catch up to us at that rate."
"We'll make better time in the daylight, too. I suspect if they break into two groups, they'll follow the paths with the most horse prints. That would let us take a nice, leisurely ride back to the Hole. But, if they break into three groups, you're probably right about them catching up."
"Gonna be light soon. That'll make it easier for them than us. They can move a lot faster than we can."
Wheat nodded and chewed at his lower lip. "We'll be reaching Bitter Creek in a hour or so. We'll travel in the water for a while. That might help. They can't track a horse in water."
"That true for an Apache?"
"I sure as hell hope so," Wheat replied.
Kid nodded and turned his head away, not wanting Wheat to see the pain in his face. But Wheat didn't need to see Kid's face to know he was hurting. Kid's sunken posture, and careful breathing told Wheat everything he needed to know. As much as he wanted to reach the safety of Devil's Hole, Wheat knew their injuries might slow them down even more as the day progressed. They had to make tracks while they could.
"You ready?" Wheat asked.
Kid's eyes were focused on his saddle horn as he tried to ignore the pain in his leg and concentrate on the task at hand. "As ready as I'll ever be."
"I mean it about telling me if you reach the end of your rope. You fall Kid, and I'm gonna hafta leave you."
"Same goes for you," Kid replied.
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"Any sign of them?" Preacher called to Kyle when they reached a clearing that offered a view of the route they had followed.
Kyle shook his head. "You suppose they all stayed together, or broke up to follow the other twogroups?"
"If they know Kid and Wheat is wounded, and moving slower than the rest of us, I suppose they might go after them, but there's no way they could know who is wounded, and there's no way they know which group Kid or Heyes' is with. If they ain't following us, maybe they lost all our tracks in the dark and just gave up," Preacher replied.
Kyle stood up and headed back to his horse. "If Heyes is right and they got an Apache with em, they don't need light to stay on our trails."
"Ever the optimist, ain't you Kyle?"
Kyle shrugged and shifted his feet, not knowing if the comment was a compliment or an insult.
"I guess we ought not waste no more time speculating. Let's get moving, boys," Preacher told the others. "We'll stay in Colorado for another twenty miles, then turn north into the Bishop Mountains. It'll be easier to lose them then."
"Hope the others are having as easy a time as we are," Kyle said as he settled back into his saddle. "How do you figure Apaches are so damn good at tracking?"
"They've lived on this land a hell of a lot longer than we have, Kyle. The entire west is their backyard. They know every inch of the entire west as well as we know the Bishop Mountains."
Kyle sighed. "I'm beginning to think that bank robbing is starting to get a might dangerous."
Preacher laughed. "You're right about that, Kyle. Maybe we ought to start thinking about a safer way of stealing people's money, like robbing from collection plates."
Kyle's eyes widened to think that Preacher of all people would even consider taking money from collection plates.
"The Lord helps them that helps themselves," Preacher explained.
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Nine of the posse, including the Sheriff Overland, remained in their saddles and watched the Apache Indian scout crouch down to examine the hoof prints in the dirt. The posse had followed the outlaws until three in the morning when they made camp for a few hours of sleep. By sun up they were again on the trail, and by seven, they had reached the spot where Heyes and the gang had stopped, checked the location of the posse, and made the decision to split up.
A lot can be learned by hoof prints in the dirt. Fresh prints, like the ones the Apache was examining, still had sharp edges. As prints aged, the edges became more rounded as the dirt settled. Older prints might also have a mixture of other animal prints, attracted my the smells of the horses, or even bits of twigs or leaves resting in the dirt of the prints.
The Apache stood and scanned the area, carefully determining how many horses moved off in each directions, before returning to the Sheriff who was still astride his horse. "Three groups. One went south, one went west. Two horses went...there," he said, pointing in a direction somewhere between the other two groups. "Two horses moving slowly."
"Those must be the two we wounded. Maybe the others didn't want to be slowed down by them. Wounded men ain't no different than wounded animals, and a wounded animal is a dangerous thing. Mike, you and Tom go with my deputy and follow them two traveling by themselves. The rest of you break into two groups. Frank, you lead a group south. I'll take a group west. The ones that went west will reach Devil's Hole first and they'll likely get there before we nab them. If they make it back to Devil's Hole, well, we ain't venturing into an outlaw camp."
"What do you want us to do when we catch up to them?" Frank asked the sheriff.
"Whatever you need to do to get that money back. I prefer you take them alive, but if that ain't an option, well I got no objection to carting a few outlaws to Boot Hill. The bank will fold if we don't get that money back. But whatever happens, we'll meet back here sometime tomorrow."
The Apache climbed back on his horse and sat silently, waited for instructions.
"You come with me," the Sheriff told him.
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"Still no sign of them?" Heyes asked
Lobo shook his head and joined the others milling about to stretch their legs. "Maybe they stopped for the night. That would put them far enough behind us that we should make it back to the Hole without a problem."
Heyes nodded, having come to the same conclusion. "If that's the case, Preacher and the others should make it to Bishop Mountains without any trouble, and from there, I doubt if even the Apache could track them through the back way into the Hole."
"So that just leaves Kid and Wheat," Lobo added.
"Yeah," Heyes replied with a worried expression on his face. "And maybe a posse smart enough to figure out we'll be going after them."
"Or maybe a posse smart enough to break into three groups," Lobo added.
Heyes had drawn the same conclusion but had opted not to put words to that ominous thought. He knew Wheat and Kid couldn't travel as quickly as the others and, if any of the posse did go after them, they would likely be cornered and forced into another gunfight or worse, be forced to surrender. He was anxious to get back to Devil's Hole so they could then go in search of Wheat and Kid.
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Wheat and Kid reached the Bitter Creek just after daylight. Leading their horses into the shallow water, they moved with the current and traveled a good five miles before exiting the creek along a rocky area, leaving only wet hoof prints that would dry and disappear in the sunshine.
"You need to stop and rest?" Wheat asked and Kid nodded. "I'll fill the canteens," Wheatsaid as the two men brought their horses to a stop.
Climbing off his horse, Wheat walked up to Kid and pulled the strap of the canteen free from the saddle horn while taking the opportunity to examine Kid's blood stained pant leg. He loosened the tourniquet, then handed the canteen to Kid.
"Here, drink some water before I fill the canteens."
Kid took the canteen and pulled the cork free. Raising the canteen to his mouth, Kid took several gulps, then handed the canteen back to Wheat. "Thanks," he panted.
"I'll be right back," Wheat said and headed for the creek.
Kid stayed on his horse and eyed the still slowly expanding edges of the blood stain. The bleeding had slowed considerable, but the fact the wound was still bleeding nine hours after Kid was shot, was worrisome. He reached for the belt and once again cinched it tight against his upper thigh.
Wheat returned and noted that Kid had tightened the tourniquet. He slung the canteen strap over Kid's saddle horn, then looped his canteen on his own saddle. Kid watched him struggle to mount his horse as the stiffness and pain his right upper arm grew increasingly more evident.
"I think you're hurting as much as me," Kid told him.
"I can manage just fine," Wheat replied, knowing Kid's wound was deeper than his and bleeding more heavily.
"Wheat, we should make camp early, while there's still plenty of sunlight. We can't wait till we get back to he Hole. We hafta get both these bullets out soon, and we can't do that in the dark."
"That's what I was thinking too, Kid. In fact, I think by noon we should start looking for a place to make camp."
"You think we lost them in the creek?' Kid asked.
Wheat avoided eye contact as he rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, but didn't reply to Kid's question.
"Me either," Kid said and urged his horse forward.
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Deputy Horton and the two men of the posse following the tracks of the two horses, stood on the banks of the Bitter Creek. The tracks they had been following lead directly out to the center of the creek, offering no indication as to whether the riders turned to travel up stream or down. With no visible tracks to follow, they had reached a sort of impasse.
"So, what do we do now, Deputy?" Tom asked. "We can't split up again to cover both directions of the creek. That would put one of us all alone on their trail."
Deputy Horton studied the stream. "If they're wounded, they're gonna want the easiest traveling they can manage. Taking an educated guess, I think we ride downstream a ways and look for signs of them moving back up onto the land. Traveling against the current might prove to be difficult if they're injured bad. We'll head downstream and hope we can pick up their trail."
"And if we don't pick up their trail?" Tom asked.
"Then we turn around and head upstream a ways. If we still can't find where they rode outta the water, we'll head back to meet up with the others."
"I wish the Sheriff had sent the Apache with us," Mike said.
"Well he didn't," Horton replied."So we just gotta do the best we can. Now let's go."
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By mid afternoon and having made only ten miles of progress, Kid spied a clearing maybe a quarter of a mile through the trees. Even in the distance he could see what appeared to be a hunting cabin and a small barn.
"Wheat," Kid called and pointed to this right, through the trees. "Might be a good place to make camp."
Wheat crouched down in his saddle and squinted to see through the dense foliage until he eventually saw what Kid was trying to show him. There in the distance was a small clearing, and in that clearing stood a small cabin and barn.
"If we cut through right here, the posse will see the path we make through all this foliage. Let's move down a ways and see if there ain't a better way to cut through these woods."
Kid nodded, and they each urged their horses further ahead.
Coming to a narrow area of rocky terrain, Wheat pulled his horse to a stop and looked up at the sky. "Judging by the sun, I'd say it's nearing three in the afternoon. That sky looks like it might be bringing in some rain, too. That should help hide any tracks we might make. Let's cut through right here and try to make that clearing."
With Wheat leading the way, they urged their horses up onto the rocks, then headed into the thick of the woods.
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Heyes and his group reached the first check point at the entrance to Devil's Hole. It was Heyes' custom to leave two men at the hideout when the gang set out to rob a train or a bank. This was to ensure the hideout was safe to return to. The last thing Heyes ever wanted to do was to lead his men into a trap in their own hideout.
Heyes pulled a red bandanna from his saddle bags and raised it high in the air, waving it back and forth. Following a robbery, a bandanna was the customary signal, so as not to alert a posse to their location by the sound of a gunshot. They waited patiently until they spotted a white bandanna waving from the lookout point. Heyes smiled and signaled the others to follow him into camp.
Reaching the Leader's cabin, Heyes tied his horse to the post, pulled the saddlebags down and headed inside. He went directly to his room and emptied the stacks of money into his dresser drawer. Then he took the saddle bags into the kitchen and began filling the bags with provisions, cans of beans, a tin of coffee, jerky secured in a waxy paper. As an afterthought, Heyes added a bottle of whiskey to those provisions.
Heyes then went back outside and lead his horse to the barn where he found Lobo tending to the other horses.
"We leave at sunup. Let the others know," he told Lobo.
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Kid remained in his saddle, struggling not to give in to exhaustion while Wheat dismounted and headed inside the cabin. Inside there was not a piece of furniture to be found. Much of the floor had rotted away. Windows were all broken, and a gaping hole in the roof welcomed the elements inside. Leaving the cabin, Wheat shut the door, only to have the uppermost hinge break, preventing the door from closing.
"It's too dilapidated. The floors rotted out. There's a hole in the roof and," he said, looking up at the sky, "it still looks like rain might be coming. Let's go check out the barn."
Wheat grabbed both his reins and Kid's and led both horses to the barn. He dropped the reins to open the barn door, then gathered the reins again and led both horses inside.
Exhausted and weak, Kid waited until Wheat stood beside the chestnut before pressing his left foot down hard in the stirrup to stand and ease his right leg over the back of the saddle. Both he and Wheat knew Kid's right leg would provide him no support and Wheat, despite his own injured arm, stood ready to give Kid the support he could not muster on his own.
Gripping the saddle horn with both hands, Kid slid his left foot out of the stirrup and used his arms to ease himself down, letting only his left foot touch the ground. As Kid released his grips on the saddle horn, Wheat grabbed Kid's right arm and swung it about the back of his shoulders. Kid bounced on his left foot to gain some balance and winced as the pain shot through his right thigh.
"You ready?" Wheat asked once Kid stopped wobbling.
Kid nodded and, taking small steps and relying heavily on Wheat for support, hopped to a spot near one of the stalls where a large pile of old, dirty straw would serve as his bed. Wheat eased Kid to the ground and as Kid adjusted himself into a less painful position, Wheat removed the saddles, blankets, canteens, and saddle bags from the horses and led each of the horses into a stall. He poured water from the canteen into his hat and gave each of the horses their fill of water.
"Wheat," Kid panted.
Wheat closed the gate of the stalls and returned to where Kid lay.
"We gotta get these slugs out before we can go on."
Wheat nodded. "Question is, what have we got to do that with?"
Kid closed his eyes and panted. "My hunting knife in in my boot."
Wheat reached into the sheath inside Kid's boot and retrieved the knife. Unlike Kid's gun, the knife was not in pristine shape, and Wheat used his fingernail to pick off flecks of dirt and dried animal blood.
"We can't build a fire in here," Wheat said. "I can only clean the knife with water. Wish one of us carried a bottle of whiskey in our bags."
"I wouldn't be wasting it on cleaning the knife if we did," Kid said with the hint of a smile. "I think we'd better take care of your arm first, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna pass out when you cut into my leg."
"The pain's that bad?" Wheat asked and Kid nodded.
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"These back woods are so dense, it would be dangerous to try to get through them tonight," Preacher told the men riding with him. "We'll start out first thing in the morning, and be back at the Hole by noon."
"Up there's a good perch to watch for anyone coming in behind us," Kyle said, pointing to a rocky precipice. Looks like you outta be able to see halfway down the mountain from there."
"We'll work in two hour shifts and keep a lookout up there," Preacher told Kyle and the others.
"I'm willing to bet we lost em, Preacher. Ain't seen a single sign of em."
"You're likely right Kyle, but I ain't the risk taker that Heyes and the Kid are, and I ain't taking no chances."
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Sheriff Overland and his posse pulled their horses to a stop about five miles from what he knew was the general location of the Devil's Hole camp.
"No sense continuing on. We're not going to find them," he told his men. "They're likely safely back at their hideout by now and if we get any closer we'll just be sitting ducks for them. We'll turn back and make camp in a couple of hours. "Maybe one of the other groups will have better luck than we've had. I sure hate to have to go back to town and tell folks the money's gone and the town likely won't be long to follow."
"Maybe them wounded fellas will try to come in this route," one of the men suggested.
"If they do, we'll intercept them, but I think Deputy Horton and his men will have a better chance of catching them. Those two are likely moving pretty slow, maybe not even moving at all that this point. If they are wounded, they are probably in pretty bad shape by now. That makes them desperate, and that makes them dangerous."
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Wheat took some time in preparation of the makeshift surgery. He helped Kid sit up with his back leaning against the stall and, using the horse blankets, helped Kid shift his weight to his left hip with the rolled blankets securing his position. He walked out to the well and was grateful to find the pump in working order. He filled a water bucket that had been left next to the well. Splashing water onto the dry dirt, Wheat carried the bucket back to the barn. Setting the bucket down near Kid, Wheat then pulled a shirt from his saddle bags and used the hunting knife to cut and tear the shirt into strips to be used as bandages and ties.
Returning to Kid with the cloths, Wheat dipped the knife into the bucket of water and used one of the pieces of cloth to wash it off as best he could. Resting the knife on the rim of the bucket, he then handed the cloth to Kid and proceeded to unbutton his shirt, untie the bandanna tourniquet, and slide the shirt off his arm.
"I got a bar of soap and a sewing kit in my saddle bags. Would you get it?" Kid asked.
Wheat retrieved both the bar of soap and the sewing kit and Kid used the soap to coat the edges of the knife. "This might help keep infection from setting in," Kid explained, though Wheat was well aware of that fact.
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Deputy Horton and his men studied the rocky edge of the riverbank. They were certain this was the most logical place for the outlaws to exit the river, but, because of the rocks, there was not a sign of horse hooves. None of the three men were trained trackers and could not discern the nicks and scratches in the rocks as being caused by horse shoes.
"Wish we'd brought the Apache with us," Tom mused.
"Well, if they exited the river, this is the best spot we've seen for that to happen. I say we follow this a ways and see if we can't pick up their tracks."
"And if we don't pick up their racks?" Tom asked.
Horton adjusted the hat on his head. "Then I guess we lost em and we'll turn around and head back."
"Folks in town ain't gonna be happy if we don't get their money back," Mike said, stating the obvious.
"We don't know that these two has got the money. In fact, I bet it's pretty doubtful that they do. Wouldn't be too prudent to leave all that money in their hands. The best we can hope for is that one of them wounded is Curry or Heyes and we can collect the bounty on em. That might at least keep the bank solvent."
"They worth a lot of money?" Tom asked.
"That depends," Horton replied. "You consider ten thousand dollars a lot of money?"
Tom smiled. "I consider that enough to keep looking for em."
"Let's go then," the Deputy replied.
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Kid dipped the cloth in the bucket of water and lathered some soap onto the cloth, then washed the wound on Wheat's arm. He didn't bother to rinse the soap from Wheat's skin thinking that too might help stave off an infection.
"You ready?" Kid asked, the hunting knife firmly in his hand as he drew on what little reserve strength he still possessed.
Wheat nodded. "Sure wish one of us carried some whiskey."
"Now, you gotta hold still, Wheat.. "I don't want this knife going anywhere it shouldn't"
Wheat nodded and braced himself. Kid swallowed hard and summoned what little strength he had remaining. He brought the tip of the knife to the edge of the wound and plunged the knife and inch or more into Wheat's arm. A whimper escaped Wheat's lips and a wince with teeth clenched spread cross his face, but he held himself steady.
Kid didn't blatantly ignore Wheat's reaction; he was simply so wrapped up in his concentration that he was oblivious to it. The bullet was embedded no more than an inch into Wheat's arm, and Kid was able to extract it in a matter of minutes. He quickly washed and dried the area and applied layers of bandages, tying them in place with a long strip of the torn shirt.
"Now you, Wheat said.
"Think there's enough daylight?"
Wheat looked out the open barn door. "Yeah, but I doubt there much light to spare."
Wheat dragged Kid's saddle over to where Kid lay. "This is gonna hurt, but it will help keep your leg from moving around too much," Wheat said and lifted Kid's leg with his good arm and used his feet to shove the saddle beneath Kid's leg. Then he lowered Kid's leg so the lower thigh rested in the seat of the saddle and used the belt to tie Kid's leg in place.
"Can you slide your pants down so I can get a look at the wound?"
Kid shook his head. "Just use the knife to cut the pants where you need to," he replied.
Wheat shrugged. "If that's want you want. "I'll go get a fresh bucket of water and be right back."
Kid folded his arm and laid it beneath his head as he tried in vain to settle into a somewhat comfortable position.
Wheat returned and submerged the knife in the water and scrubbed it clean. Then he rubbed the bar of soap along the edges of the knife before cutting into Kid's pants and peeling the dried fabric from Kid's skin. Finally he lathered soap on a cloth and washed away as much blood as he could.
Kid didn't utter a sound, but when the knife plunged into Kid's thigh, he arched his back and grimaced, then passed out cold. His patient no longer reacting to the pain, Wheat was able to use the knife to quickly probe for the bullet. Once found, Wheat pushed the knife in deeper, moving skillfully along the side of the bullet until he was able to slip the tip of the knife just under the bullet and slowly inch it back along the path of entry until the broad end of the bullet had reached the surface of Kid's skin where Wheat was able to extract it.
Wheat quickly washed the bleeding wound. Then, using a needle and thread from Kid's sewing Kit, Wheat stitched the wound closed, before applying dry bandages and securing them in place with a long strip of the cloth.
With Kid still unconscious, Wheat unbuckled the belt and pulled the saddle from under Kid's thigh, then used the blankets from both their bedrolls to cover his sleeping friend.
0-0-0-0-0
At sunrise Preacher and the others were saddled and ready to make the final trek to Devil's Hole.
"No sign of us being followed. Come on fellas. We all know the way in from here. Let's make tracks."
Preacher urged his horse into motion and headed into the dense woods. The others fell in line as the only way to navigate through the thick shroud of trees was to travel in single file.
0-0-0-0-0-0
Lobo, Flatnose, and two other men were all waiting with their horses as well as with Heyes' sorrel outside the Leader's cabin when Heyes stepped outside, his packed saddle bags slung over his shoulder.
"We hafta find Wheat and Kid before the posse does or, if the posse has em, we gotta get em freed," Heyes told the group. "They are likely this side of Bitter Creek, but where on this side is anybody's guess."
"You want us to split up in two groups, Heyes? We can cover more ground that way."
Heyes shook his head. "If we have to do battle with a posse, there's strength in numbers, so we stick together."
"I left Preacher and the others a note, telling em what we're doing just in case they want to catch up and help," Lobo told Heyes.
"Good thinking," he replied. "Now let's get started."
0-0-0-0-0-0
Kid had slept through a thunderstorm during the night, not even stirring at the sound of the thunder or the flashes of light that illuminated the interior of the barn. But early in the afternoon he awoke with a start at the sound of horses in the distance.
"Wheat?" he whispered .
"I know. I hear them too."
"Can you tell which direction?"
"Either behind us or just west of us. I can't tell yet."
"West might be Heyes."
"Uh-uh, and behind us is likely the posse. There ain't no rear window in this barn so if it's the posse, they got the element of surprise on their side."
"You check up in the loft?" Kid asked.
Wheat shook his head. The thought of climbing the ladder to the loft with the use of just one hand was not particularly appealing to him.
"How's your arm?"
"Likely no worse than your leg."
"Can you help me up? If there's shooting to be done, you're not doing it alone."
Wheat knew Kid was right, one person against an unknown number of posse men was likely not a winnable situation. He also knew Kid did not yet have the endurance he would need to stand for too long of a time. He holstered his gun and moved across the barn.
Kid grasped a high rail of the stall with his raised right hand, bent his left knee in preparation of standing, and extended his left hand to Wheat. In one, relatively smooth motion, Kid pushed him up against the counterbalance of Wheat's pull. Taking a couple of hopping steps backwards, Kid leaned against the stall to gain his balance.
"You alright standing there for a minute?" Wheat asked.
Kid nodded. "I'm fine," he panted..
Wheat looked around the barn for something for Kid to sit on. When he found nothing, he realized he had no choice but to climb the ladder to the loft. "I'll be right back."
Kid watched as Wheat struggled to scale the ladder to the loft, then disappeared from sight.. Moments later, two bales of hay fell from the loft, each landing with a thud..
Wheat descended the ladder and pulled each of the bales over to the window that looked out toward the west. Then he returned to Kid's side and helped Kid hop across the barn to the window.
"You sit here and keep an eye out for those horses. There's a rear window in the loft. I'll watch from there."
Twenty minutes later, Kid spied some movement in the woods. When he saw Heyes' sorrel, he smiled.
"Wheat, it's Heyes and the gang to the west. They're at the edge of the woods now," Kid called to Wheat who was still up in the loft.
"Well, I got news for you, Kid. The posse's moving in from behind us. They're still about a mile away. You best warn Heyes."
Kid pulled himself to his feet and leaned against the window frame. Using the butt of his gun, Kid broke the glass.
"Heyes!"
"You two alright?"
"We'll live, but the posse is about a mile to the north and moving this way."
"You know how many?"
"Wheat, can you see how many?" Kid called up to the loft.
"I just see three," Wheat replied.
"Just three," Kid called to Heyes.
"You two stay put. We'll take care of them."
"You hear that, Wheat?" Kid asked.
"I've got a clear view if that posse decides to retreat, so I'll be staying up here for a while," Wheat replied.
0-0-0-0-0
"Fire over their heads!" Heyes shouted. "We don't want murder charges. We just want to scare them away."
With that said, Heyes and the others began to fire in the general direction of the posse, making sure their shots were too high to hit any of those men. Wheat joined in, firing from his perch in the loft.
Deputy Horton and the two men jumped from their horses and skirted behind the trees.
"Those shots are coming from two directions," Horton told the others. "The whole gang must be there, trying to surround us."
"The three of us can't overtake the entire Devil's Hole gang," Mike said as he continued to fire shots to the west of the barn.
"Yeah, they're likely trying to surround us," Tom added.
Horton nodded. He had no intention of getting himself or the two men with him killed. "Let's get out of here while we still can," he told the others.
The three posse men lead their horses back the way they had come. Once out of bullet range, they mounted and rode off as fast as they could.
"They're gone!" Wheat shouted from the loft.
"They're gone, Heyes!" Kid then shouted from the window.
"Come on, fellas," Heyes said to the gang. "Let's go tend to the wounded."
0-0-0-0-0-0
Two days later, with everyone back at Devil's Hole and Wheat and Kid well rested and wounds showing no signs of infection, and the money having been divided among all the gang, life for the outlaws was getting back to normal.
"Except for your sling Wheat, and your limp Kid, you two don't look any worse for the ware now," Heyes told them as the two injured outlaws sat on the porch of the Leader's cabin enjoying a whiskey, a cigar, and a nice view of the sunset.
"Anybody else beginning to think this line of work is getting a little to risky?" Kid asked.
"Don't tell me you wanna quit, Kid," Wheat replied.
"There's bound to be some other lines of work that pay well but don't carry such a high risk of injury or death."
Wheat snorted. "Maybe being the owner of a bank or a railroad but anything shy of big business ain't gonna pay you the kind of money we just made. Ain't that right, Heyes?"
"Well, I think you both have a good argument for the kinds of work you're talking about. I guess I'd have to give that some thought."
"Yeah, I guess there ain't too many legal opportunities for opening a safe without knowing the combination," Wheat said with a chuckle.
"Another good point, Wheat," Heyes replied.
"So I guess I'm just out numbered?" Kid asked.
Heyes smiled. "At least for the time being. But for now, I'm already planning our next job."
"Yeah? What's that?" Wheat asked.
"How does fifty thousand dollars sound?"
"Fifty...? Just what is this job?" Wheat asked with great interest.
"There's a train to Columbine at the end of the month, carrying a fifty thousand dollar payroll in a safe. Trains ain't known to use the most modern safes, so I figure opening that will be a piece of cake."
"And if it is a high end, brand new safe?' Kid asked skeptically.
Heyes smiled. "That's where Kyle and his dynamite skills come into play."
Doubtful expressions formed on Kid's and Wheat's faces. Kyle did like working with dynamite, but they both knew when it came to working with dynamite, Kyle lived by the creed that more is always better.
"And you think that's a good idea?" Kid asked.
"Dynamite a safe on a passenger train?" Wheat asked. "Be a lot less risky just to toss it off a mountain, don't you think?" Wheat asked while giving Kid an elbow to the ribs and a wink of his eye.
"So how would you do it Wheat?" Heyes asked defensively.
Wheat thought for a moment. "Smarter," he replied.