Amnesty, But First Penance

by Kattayl

This is a series of interwoven stories but many are also stand alone. Curry and Heyes receive their amnesty but it comes with a condition of penance.

21. Amnesty - Cooper Creek Telegraph

Role Reversal - Telegraph Style

Chapter Nineteen

Amnesty but First Penance

Fidgeting as Curry slept, Heyes once again badgered Lom about their next penance. As they were the only three passengers on this stage, Curry was sitting sideways on one bench, injured ankle propped up on a pillow. With his sheepskin jacket rolled up behind his head, he was leaning back into the corner. Heyes had made sure he'd had whiskey lemonade before the stage boarded. Still, Curry moaned through his snoring as the stagecoach bumped and rumbled along.

"We going all the way through to Laramie, Lom?"

"Nope."

"Going to tell me where we are getting off?"

"We'll get off when we get to our stop." Just smiling at Heyes, Lom leaned back and tilted his hat over his face to try and sleep. Closing his eyes, he scrunched his nose up as he could still smell the faint aroma of coyote urine wafting off the men.

"Lom, please, some clue? Anything?"

"Okay, Heyes, you're going to be fixing something you broke," Lom said with finality through his hat.

Trying to sleep, Heyes felt his mind racing. While the penances could be hard, Heyes found the lack of control worse, almost intolerable. Not knowing what he would be doing next made his stomach tighten into cramps.

With his two companions sleeping, Heyes picked up his new book. Although he had tried to start it numerous times on this journey, he was still only on page four. Holding it open on his lap, he stared out the stagecoach window and let his mind wander while watching the Wyoming landscape. "Fixing something we broke," he thought. "What didn't we break?"

Stretching his legs at a stage station stop in Rock Creek, Heyes followed Trevors as he picked up a telegram.

"That telegram about our penance, Lom?" Heyes asked hoping Lom would give him more information.

"Yup." Lom flipped him the telegram.

Eagerly opening it, Heyes sighed in disappointment. It read simply, "Everything ready."

Curry slept soundly through the stop at Rock Creek. When the others reboarded, Lom told Heyes to start waking him up. "Getting off at the next stop."

"Cooper Creek? For our penance?"

"Yes, Heyes, your penance's home base is Cooper Creek."

By the time the stage stopped in Cooper Creek, Curry was awake, moving slowly into a stretch. Heyes was on the edge of his seat, nervous energy making his feet tap consistently.

Before the stage had even come to a full stop, Heyes had the door open, and he spryly jumped out. Lom followed.

"Need those crutches first thing," Heyes yelled up to the driver preparing to throw down their luggage.

While Curry awkwardly moved his ankle off the pillow and slid down the seat towards the door, Heyes handed him the crutches. Hobbling out the door, Curry tottered forward. Heyes balanced him with a wink. "Careful, partner."

Nimbly, Heyes caught their traveling bags as they were tossed to him and placed them on the boardwalk. When he turned to the stage depot behind him, Lom was shaking hands with two somber looking men and a woman each staring at Curry's bandaged ankle. Protectively, Heyes climbed next to Curry as he navigated the three steps.

Aware of the attention, Curry produced a charming smile. "Hi there. It's gettin' better every day."

Lom made the introductions, "Gentlemen and lady, this is Hannibal Heyes and that gentleman with the crutches is Jed Curry."

"Kid Curry," the lady said in hushed tones, blushing.

With a smile, Lom responded, "Yes, Miss, Jed 'Kid' Curry."

Still blushing, her eyes fixed on Curry's crutches and foot.

"And, boys, this is Sheriff Apperson and these people are the Telegraph Repair Operations Board. Mr. Hector Kennedy, Mr. Robert Mercer and Miss Evelyn Crenshaw. You'll be working for them."

Excited by more pieces of the puzzle, Heyes shook hands briskly, muttering, "Telegraph Repair Operations Board?"

The gaunt man with very short black hair and glasses pushed up into his hair stepped forward. "I'm Kennedy. Come in gentleman and let's discuss this penance thing."

Leaning into Heyes, Curry whispered, "You hear yet what we're supposed to be apologizin' for?"

"My gut's got a good guess."

"And?"

"Cutting telegraph lines along the tracks."

"Ohhh. Well, can't deny we did that." Curry gave his partner a little grin.

"True. It was a necessary part of the plans. Kept those posses from forming too quickly."

"Guess, you can handle this apology, Heyes. I'll just nod and look sincere."

ASJ-ASJ-ASJ-ASJ

Sitting at the head of the large table in the back of the stage depot, Heyes and Curry were the uncomfortable centers of attention.

"Gentlemen, we wrote the letter asking for your help because we are shorthanded. When you were robbing the railroad, this railroad, the Union Pacific Railroad, you thought nothing of disabling our lines," said Mr. Kennedy solemnly.

Sitting up straighter, Heyes steadied himself and put a sincere expression on his face. "And for cutting those lines and the trouble that caused, we are truly sorry."

Curry squirmed in his seat and nodded. It didn't sound like too much of an apology to him.

The three members of the Telegraph Repair Operations Team stared silently at the ex-outlaws.

Heyes joined Curry in squirming in his seat.

Feeling the oppressive silence, Lom coughed. All eyes turned to look at him. "Mr. Kennedy, would you detail what these men will be doing?"

Kennedy looked from Lom to the uncomfortable men at the end of the table. "You two severed or disabled many telegraph lines for your robberies; now you will be fixing breaks in the lines caused by men, animals and the weather. You will also be laying new poles and wires for our new spur to Bonner."

Kennedy nodded to Miss Crenshaw to continue. Smiling shyly at Curry, she looked away from him quickly and talked, staring at the table.

"First, you will both learn the language of the telegraph and how to send and receive telegrams," she said barely above a whisper.

A full, dimpled smile graced Heyes' face. "I've always wanted to learn how to do that!"

Robert Mercer interrupted, "Then, you will also learn how to lay telegraph poles and wires and repair breaks." His glare fell on Curry's foot. "The telegraph station across the street serves a dual purpose. It is the telegraph office for this depot and the center telegraph office to report and coordinate telegraph repairs. You will work under me to repair lines like those you cut." His voice sounded like a threatening challenge to Heyes.

Heyes was about to ask a question when Mercer ended their meeting. "Keep your empty apologies. Meet us at the telegraph station tomorrow morning at seven. There's a lot of work to do. The Will Dryden Gang has been hitting this railroad hard during the last months and wreaking havoc on our equipment. Just like you did. And YOU will fix it." He pointed directly at Heyes. Finishing, he left the room with Miss Crenshaw and Mr. Kennedy marching behind.

This time Heyes definitely heard the angry threat from Mercer, and he could tell the Kid felt it too.

"Lom?" Turning to Trevors, Heyes had questions.

Rising to come near and sit next to the cousins, Lom spoke without answering their main questions. "I'll be leaving tonight on the train. They have provided a room with two beds for you at the hotel and your meals are included. I didn't see a letter from them requesting this penance. It came from the President of the Union Pacific Railroad via the Office of the Governor of Wyoming."

Inhaling sharply, Heyes waited for Lom to continue. "Another favor for the Governor?"

"A lot of backbreaking work goes into repairing telegraph wires and poles. These men working on Mercer's team remember all the extra work you made for them. You won't find any friends on his team."

ASJ-ASJ-ASJ-ASJ

Reporting for work, Heyes and Curry found only Miss Crenshaw and another older lady bent over telegraph receivers. Standing in the doorway, hats in hand, dressed in their best suits, their only suits, they waited. The room was larger than any telegraph office they had seen. It's walls, a dark gray, were covered with paintings of railroad cars surrounded by lines of telegraph poles. Each was done in muted tones. There was a door to a back room that was closed.

The two ladies sat at green-gray desks amid stacks of telegrams. Two young boys raced to the desks, picked up a stack of telegrams to deliver and ran out.

Finally, Miss Crenshaw completed the telegram she was receiving and looked up. Meeting Curry's eyes quickly, she spoke to Heyes. "Welcome, gentlemen. Sorry if you had to wait long; we are very busy today."

Curry had exchanged his crutches for a cane. Still, his steps were measured, careful and slow.

"Mr. Curry, sit here next to me. Mr. Heyes, this is Reginald. Please sit next to her. First, you should know that telegrams transmit electrical pulses over a wire. The local batteries are in that back room.Don't be worried; very little current is needed to do this. Now, we are going to teach you Morse Code."

Curry's chair, next to Miss Crenshaw, was already set up next to another chair with a pillow where he could prop up his foot. Blushing every time she looked at him, Miss Crenshaw handed him a printed sheet with the Morse Code and the corresponding letters. "Now, the most frequently used letters have the shortest codes," she started.

Curry leaned in to see the paper while being respectful of Miss Crenshaw. Her pulse quickened. Intently, he listened while she tapped out each letter on the desk. As she taught him, telegrams kept coming in. As she heard each letter, she said it out loud as she wrote it down. Soon Curry was able to 'hear' some of the more common vowels.

Motioning to Heyes, Mrs. Reginald patted the space beside her on the backless bench she used. "Come sit here, Sweetie." He was forced to sit so close to her that his leg touched hers. Leaning as far away from her as he could, he concentrated on learning Morse Code.

Within two hours, Heyes had sent his first telegram saying, TEST. The tapping that came back was so quick that Heyes frowned trying to decipher it.

Mrs. Reginald laughed, grabbing Heyes' leg under the desk. "It takes time to get your 'ear', honey."

"I'll do better next time," he answered confidently as he brushed her hand off his knee and turned his head to breathe some air not filled with her sickeningly sweet perfume. "When can I try again?"

"Let me send these telegrams and then you can do another one."

When a telegram came in, Heyes wrote down what he thought he was hearing but Mrs. Reginald was too busy to check what he wrote. Looking over what he wrote, Heyes could not make words out of the letters he had written. He was unsure if it was his writing or his ear that was the problem. Sighing, he picked up his pencil and cheat sheet and tried to "hear" the next incoming telegram.

Miss Crenshaw's station was the busier of the two. While she was receiving telegrams, Curry listened to each incoming telegram and wrote down what he heard. Admiring his small, neat letters, she would compare his result to hers. Nervously, he sent his first telegram, "Test."

Listening carefully, he wrote the reply, "Test received Stop Good job Stop."

"Oh, Mr. Curry, that's perfect!" Miss Crenshaw exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Across the room, Heyes snarled at his partner.

After lunch, Curry sent a couple of the simpler telegrams with Miss Crenshaw watching him closely. "You are doing very well, Mr. Curry."

He rewarded her with a charming smile that made her heart flutter.

Mrs. Reginald turned to Heyes. "Don't worry, Mr. Heyes, you will get it soon," she said, rubbing his arm to comfort him. "Let's try your test telegram, again. Tell me what you are going to send."

T is dash. E is one dot. S is three dots and T is a dash."

"Exactly, now send it."

Heyes found it hard to concentrate because Mrs. Reginald was leaning into him to hear the Morse Code he was sending. Before he started, she had put her hand on his and was trying to guide him. With her hand on his, Heyes tried to hit the telegraph key deliberately but felt she was in control.

When he was finished, he felt Mrs. Reginald look at him in disapproval. "Mr. Heyes, do you know what you sent?"

"Test?"

"You sent dash dash, dot dot, dot dot dot, dash."

Heyes looked at his cheat sheet. "Mist? You sure?"

"I'm sure. Just listen to the reply yourself."

Heyes cocked his head and closed his eyes, listening to the incoming telegram. He wrote down what he heard. "MIST. Not sure what that last word was, dot dot dash dash dot dot?"

"That is a question mark." Mrs. Reginald's voice showed her frustration.

"Ohh. I did send MIST and they sent back MIST?" He reviewed the cheat sheet. "I doubled the dash on the first T so I sent an M. And I doubled the dot on E and made it an I," he said, throwing the paper down on the desk. "I need a break."

Seeing his partner's frustration, Curry gave Miss Crenshaw a sweet smile. "Think I'll join him, if that's alright with you, Miss Crenshaw."

"Surely, Mr. Curry."

Restricted where they could walk on a short break because of Curry's ankle, they settled on a bench in front of the livery.

"Mrs. Reginald is driving me crazy, Kid." Heyes had his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair. "She's not teaching me anything because she says she's too busy." Straightening up, Heyes looked up into the sky as it started to cloud over. "And she keeps touching my leg, my arm, my hand. Ain't right."

Curry laughed. "She likes you, Heyes!"

"Nah, she's an older married matron, Kid, that's wears too many bracelets and too much sweet perfume."

"Heyes, she's not married no more. Miss Crenshaw called her the widow Reginald.

Heyes eyes grew wide. "Oh, no. Kid, you gotta trade with me when we go back in. That woman's a vulture."

Curry threw his head back in warm laughter. "Sure, Heyes, use your silver tongue and I'll switch with you if they agree. But remember, I'm the one takin' Miss Crenshaw out to dinner tonight."

ASJ-ASJ-ASJ-ASJ

Managing to sweet talk the ladies into the switch, Heyes settled in the chair next to Miss Crenshaw. Moving two chairs near Mrs. Reginald, Curry arranged them so he could sit near her and still prop up his ankle. Watching the widow look longingly at Heyes, Curry sat down and picked up the Morse Code cheat sheet off the desk, reviewing it.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Curry, I must talk to Miss Crenshaw about something pressing," said Mrs. Reginald rushing away toward Heyes.

Jumping at the sound, Curry realized that there was an incoming telegram. Gingerly, he moved to sit nearer the telegraph key. As he had been taught, he sent back the word, "REPEAT."

When the clicking started up again, he was ready with a pencil and carefully wrote down each letter he heard. Finished, he sat up straight proud of himself. Seeing the others, staring at him, he gave them a sheepish smile. "Got all the words! Now, what do I do with it?"

Miss Crenshaw laughed lightly. Curry thought it was a beautiful sound. "Let me see, Mr. Curry." Taking the paper, she looked it over. "Wonderful, you got every word, and your writing is so precise. You're picking this up quickly. Mrs. Reginald is searching for Mr. Mercer. Train robbers have cut lines about fifteen miles from here. He will need to take a team to evaluate the damage and repair it."

Curry and Heyes tried to keep guilt off their faces as they thought of all the times they had cut telegraph lines.

"Mr. Curry, will you please transcribe the incoming telegrams on that one. Remember to send 'repeat' if you miss a word. Mr. Heyes and I will handle this one." Miss Crenshaw was all business.

"Yes, Ma'am," Curry said, turning back to hear a new incoming message, proud he was given responsibility.

Miss Crenshaw smiled at Heyes, and he knew what the Kid saw in this lovely lady. "Now, Mr. Heyes, please listen and record the incoming messages as I write them down. Then we shall compare our results."

Working with Miss Crenshaw, Heyes quickly picked up both sending and receiving telegrams with one problem. After he wrote the letters and words down, everyone, including himself, had trouble reading his writing. Struggling to make his letters clearer, he would lose his concentration on listening. Miss Crenshaw took to having him rewrite the telegram, sometimes twice, before the boys came to distribute them.

"What is he doing?" Mrs. Reginald demanded from the doorway when she came back and saw Curry recording a telegram.

Miss Crenshaw stood and intercepted her before she made it to her desk. "Mr. Curry is doing a very competent job of receiving telegrams. He has even sent a few of the shorter ones without assistance," she told the older lady.

"What am I supposed to do? He's at my desk."

"Mrs. Reginald, sit here with Mr. Heyes as I have paperwork to do. He is learning to receive shorter telegrams and is even better at sending telegrams. He needs little further instruction, just someone to answer questions as they come up."

Sighing, Heyes turned to look at his cousin, sitting smugly at his own desk transcribing a telegram.

Winking, Curry smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

ASJ-ASJ-ASJ-ASJ

Running through the rain that had started late in the night, they arrived at the office before seven the next morning. The office was always open with a tall thin man named Matthew Lewis taking the quieter night shift. Even this early, the partners found Mr. Mercer waiting for them.

Without greeting them, he strode forward and poked Heyes in the shoulder with his finger. "You, Mr. Heyes, are now assigned to my crew. Go back to your room and change that suit to some work clothes. Wear something warm; we might get snow later. We have at least four miles of lines to repair, thanks to the Will Dryden Gang."

Looking out at the rainy weather, Heyes gulped. "Him, too?" he asked, pointing at Curry.

"Mr. Curry has proven himself valuable here." It was then Heyes noticed men setting up a small third desk and running the wires needed for a telegraph key there. "With the weather, we expect a busy day in the office. And with his ankle he would be a liability on the crew."

Ignoring the innocent blue eyes meeting his, Heyes groaned to Curry softly, "You're getting out of a lot of work with that sore ankle."

Curry winked in reply.

Miss Crenshaw and Mrs. Reginald walked in and joined them.

"Good day, Miss Crenshaw," Mr. Mercer said with a nod, then added, "If we finish in time are you available for dinner tonight?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mercer, I already have plans."

Heyes could tell from Curry's reaction that her plans were with him.

"Heyes," growled Mercer, losing the polite mister before the name. "Why are you still here? I expect you changed and back here in ten minutes. Do you understand?"

"Understood." Heyes swallowed hard and reminded himself that he did not have a choice. This was a required penance, or he could lose amnesty for both of them.

Following Heyes out the door, Mercer once more nodded to Miss Crenshaw. "Then, dinner some other night."

When they had left, Miss Crenshaw turned to Curry. "Jed...er...Mr. Curry," she said blushing.

"Jed's fine, Miss Crenshaw." She saw the twinkle in his so-so blue eyes.

Blushing, she continued, "Jed, I know we asked you not to wear your gun, but would you mind going back to the hotel and putting it on?"

"My gun?"

"Yes, Mr. Mercer has informed me there has been a threat on this telegraph office. Not exactly a threat. Well, one of the Dryden Gang was overheard in the Lazy Dog Saloon down the line about twenty miles. And...well...he said the gang was thinking it would be easier to blow up the main telegraph office than riding around cutting the lines."

"So, I'm just here for security?" Disappointment crossed Curry's voice and eyes.

"Oh, no, Jed. We have an armed deputy patrolling outside. Your gun, and your reputation, are an extra precaution." Miss Crenshaw sighed to herself as she remembered him getting off the stage and how handsome the ex-outlaw looked wearing his gun. Looking just like he stepped out of a romance novel, it seemed to give him an extra layer of confidence she found irresistible.

When he returned with his gun tied down, she led him to the newly set-up station, saying, "This will be your desk for the next two weeks; make yourself at home. You can even put your girlfriend's picture there if you want."

"No girlfriend, Miss Crenshaw. The kind of life we led ruled out serious relationships." Again, the twinkle graced his eyes and made her smile.

"Of course." She turned to the desk. "Well, you'll be sending outgoing telegrams. Start with these. You'll also be backup for incoming when Mrs. Reginald or I are on breaks. You handled yourself very well yesterday."

She watched as Curry settled into his chair, smiling when he found a stool underneath to prop up his ankle. Leaning his cane against the end of his desk, he said, "It's nice. Looks like you thought of everything."

Mrs. Reginald's movement to his desk was heralded by the clicking of her bracelets and sickening wafts of sweet fruit perfume. "Oh, Mr. Curry, we're so glad you're here…and armed. Makes us vulnerable women folk feel safer."

Settled in his chair, Curry did not turn around to respond to her. Then, he felt one of her hands on each of his shoulders. A cold shiver ran down his back as he felt her smelling his hair.

Rescuing him, Miss Crenshaw said, "Faith, it's time we get to work. I believe you have an incoming."

With a wistful sigh, Faith Reginald rushed to her desk.

Giving Miss Crenshaw a grateful smile, Curry took the papers she was handing him.

"Do you remember what to do?"

"Yeah, Heyes and me were joking we heard clacks in our sleep last night. Can't see how Mrs. Reginald can hear them dots and dashes with those bracelets clicking each time she moves her arm though." He stopped, thinking of his partner being sent to repair the lines. "Heyes sure was hopin' to practice more on the telegraph key today."

ASJ-ASJ-ASJ-ASJ

"Heyes," yelled Robert Mercer, as if it were a curse word. "You're gonna need shoes, not boots…climbing shoes and gaffs. Pull some out of the back room and change before we go. Do it quickly!"

Sighing, Heyes went to change and then ventured into the back room only to find multiple pairs of mismatched, misshaped shoes covered with dried sweat and hardened mud. Thrown in the corner were what he assumed to be the gaffs. Years earlier, he had bought two pairs for the gang to use to cut telegraph wires. Preacher and Kyle had proven quite proficient using them.

Finding two shoes his size, one black and one brown, he looked carefully at the gaffs trying the fit on his lower legs. Inspecting the spikes that would protrude from his insteps to help him climb, he chose ones that were sturdy and sharp.

Wearing the mismatched shoes and carrying two pairs of the best gaffs he could find, Heyes walked into the telegraph office.

"Kid, can you watch these for me?" he said, holding his black boots.

Holding up his hand to have Heyes wait before speaking, Curry finished tapping out a telegram. Restraining his laughter to only a grin, Curry stared at the mismatched shoes.

"Have to wear shoes, no boots," explained Heyes sheepishly. "And these." He held up the gaffs. "Leaving my boots with you."

"Gaffs, Heyes! I remember when you had us all practice climbin' trees with them at the Hole. Don't remember you bein' too good with them!"

Heyes' look said more on that topic was off limits.

"Heyes, you ready? Get out here, wagon's leaving." Mercer's disdainful tone left no room for argument.

Hastening to the wagon, Heyes saw the bench seats were occupied. The men had left just enough room between them so that the only space left for Heyes was on the floor of the wagon next to a large battery.

Climbing over the end gate, Heyes sat down with a thump and a sigh.

Feeling every raindrop, bump and twist in the rutted road, Heyes bent his knees and rested his elbows on them. He put his head down and listened to the men above him.

After an hour, the wagon bounced to a stop. Standing up, Heyes saw wires laying on the ground stretching down the tracks. He realized the rain had stopped.

"Heyes, here's where you learn how to repair what you broke. We got almost four miles of wires damaged by the Will Dryden Gang before they robbed the train two days ago. Some are cut, some need to be restrung. You're going to be doing both." Mercer looked pleased. "Heard you're a fast learner, prove it. You stay here with Kishaba and Van Horst and the wagon. Work east. I'll take the extra horses and the rest of you to the other end of the break. Work quickly; we ain't heading back until we meet up in the middle with the lines working."

Mumbling followed as the men attached their gaffs to their shoes.

"Heyes, over here." A tall burly man Heyes had heard called Big Steven motioned Heyes over to the battery that was in the wagon. "Quick lesson on how this works. Telegraph wires are just bare hardened copper. On top of those poles the wires are attached to stoneware or porcelain insulators. Very little current is actually used for telegraph transmission. Right now, I'm gonna have you connect that cut wire to this battery. There's a telegraph key in the wagon, too. Hook it up to the wire and send the message TEST with the number found on that pole. If they answer, then that wire is good up to that pole. Can you manage to do that?" Heyes heard the disdain in Big Steven's voice.

Sitting in the wagon, Heyes did as he was asked, struggling to remember the dots and dashes for the numbers.

"Test 128 received." He was relieved when the return text came.

'Okay now, up the pole. Sonny, you go up on the other side pulling the other side of that broken wire. Show this big bad outlaw leader how to reconnect the wires through the insulators up there." The sarcasm in his voice was not lost on Heyes, who ignored it and made sure his gaffs were tightened.

"See those Indians, Heyes? They're Arapaho," Sonny said looking into the distance from the top of the pole. "They won't hurt us, and they won't come no closer either," he smirked.

Seeing the Arapaho's watching them intently, Heyes wondered, "Why won't they come closer?"

"Coz Mercer showed them that big battery and then had it shock them. They respect the telegraph wires and poles now."

Heyes nodded as if he agreed but thought to himself if that happened to him, it would make him mad and want to get even.

The work was hard. The day stretched on. The muscles in his ankles, calves and knees ached from climbing until they shook. Relieved when he saw they were meeting the other team working on the next pole, Heyes allowed himself a quick sigh of relief. Looking around to check that no one else heard him, Heyes steeled his features. He knew he could show no weakness in front of these men.

These were the men who had suffered the consequences of his actions. This is the repair team that had to fix all the wires they had cut. They had replaced the poles that Kyle's dynamite had knocked down. They hated him and they were making that very clear.

ASJ-ASJ-ASJ-ASJ

"Heyes, ain't you goin' to eat? Curry asked, nursing a cup of hot coffee. "Had an early dinner with Evelyn, but she had to go back to work. I'm gonna meet up with her and walk her home later."

"Kid, tell you the truth, all I want is some liniment for my legs and a soft bed."

"You don't want to go play poker? You sick or something?"

"Tired, even my bones are tired." Heyes started to put his head on the table then noticed the plate in front of him. "I'll try. Should eat something, I guess."

"Rough day?"

"Kid, these men hate us. They take pride in their work, and we destroyed it. We forced them away from their families on weekends and holidays, in the snow and the heat of summer. All the repairs we caused were done on top of their regular work. And they don't let me forget it."

Curry nodded with the sympathy of guilt.

"They hate us, and they are taking it out on me…and I can't do anything about it because this is our penance."

Feeling guilty, Curry looked at his cousin. "Was supposed to be me out there with them except for this ankle."

With a forlorn look but a true smile, Heyes stared at the food on his plate and decided he'd had enough. Pushing the plate to Curry, Heyes said, "Kid, I don't remember you being any better with the gaffs than me."

ASJ-ASJ-ASJ-ASJ

A wind that penetrated Heyes' coat had blown the rain clouds away. Taking his same place on the floor of the wagon, he put his head between his knees. The night's sleep had done little to ease his cramping legs, thighs, and calves. As they came to a jerky stop, Mercer dismounted and strode to the wagon.

"Heyes!" he said, his voice demanding.

Without answering, Heyes jumped awkwardly from the wagon and glared at his boss.

"See that pole?"

His heart sinking as he looked at the pole, Heyes answered, "The one listing at a sixty-degree angle?" His attention was drawn to what looked like fur covering the lower five feet of the pole. "What is that on it?"

Mercer's smile was self-serving. "THAT is your first job today. The bison took to rubbing against the poles and knocking them over when they were shedding their winter coats. So, the brilliant minds in the main office put those spiky protrusions on the poles to discourage them. Turns out the bison like to rub against the spikes." His smile grew wilder. "You get to clean that molting fur off of that pole." He handed Heyes two wire brushes. "Get to it. When you finish, we are going to use the horses to straighten that pole and settle it in straight. Then you will reconnect the wires."

Resigned, Heyes pulled his coat closer around him and started using the wire brush on the smelly old fur caught on the spikes on the pole.

ASJ-ASJ-ASJ-ASJ

Will Dryden had decided that he would check out the main telegraph office in Cooper Creek himself. Riding into the town by the backroad, he kept his hat low on his head, almost covering his eyes. His older brother, Ned, rode beside him in silence, excited to see the building he was going to get to dynamite.

Knowing that all telegrams requesting emergency repairs came into this office, Will needed to see what kind of security there was around the building. Also, to determine if there was a back-up location here that the telegraphers could use in case of emergency. He planned to create that emergency and didn't want them to have a second place to send telegrams. His informant told him that the office was only staffed by two ladies when the crew was out doing repairs and a sickly-looking man at night. He planned to dynamite the office in broad daylight.

Checking into the hotel across from the telegraph office, they requested a room facing the street and started their vigil.

"Been watching for three hours, Will, and ain't seen nobody that looked like security except that deputy with little hair and fewer teeth. He can't stop me from destroying that building." Ned Dryden stood, yawned and stretched.

Looking up from the crumbled newspaper he was reading, Will Dryden walked to the window and looked out. He grabbed his brother's arm. "Deputy? That ain't no deputy!"

Returning to the window, Ned did a double take seeing Jed 'Kid" Curry exiting the building. Curry had left his cane inside so only went a few steps from the door. Out of habit, Curry's eyes surveyed the street. Nodding to the deputy, he stood on the boardwalk and reached his arms up to stretch his back while he took in deep breaths of air. The Dryden brothers focused on the gun tied low on his hip.

"Dang! That's Kid Curry. I'd know him anywhere." Ned sat back down by the window.

Will pulled back the curtain to get a better look. "One of them damn new men we brought into the gang must have let slip what we planned to do." Will stepped back contemplating this development. "Curry must be an inside guard, maybe that amnesty thing we read about for them is real. If Curry's here, Heyes must be too."

In the street, Curry finished stretching his back and looked all around with his gaze finishing on the windows of the hotel. He took his time going back inside to resume sending telegrams. But he thought he had seen something disturbing.

"Evelyn," Curry stopped at her desk and spoke softly. "Go close the blinds on the far window. Wait until I sit down and don't make it look like I told you to do it."

Hearing an urgency in his tone, she nodded and looked back down at her telegraph key. After Curry was seated, she nonchalantly rose and closed the blinds. Then she returned to her desk.

Knowing his desk was no longer visible from the hotel window, Curry went to the window and peered through the slotted blinds.

"Jed?" asked Evelyn, without raising her eyes from her work.

Despite the situation, Curry realized he was starting to enjoy this penance and the company of a certain Miss Evelyn Crenshaw.

"Think I saw Ned Dryden and someone else in the hotel across the street. Maybe your informant was right." His tone was hushed as he started a vigil of his own.

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Turning to face his brother, Ned Dryden spoke with reverence, "Will, I saw Kid Curry shoot in a bar one time. Didn't even see him draw, the gun just appeared in his hand. That's how fast he is. He didn't hit his opponent, except just shot the gun out of his hand. That's how good he is. I ain't going against him."

"Me neither, brother, me neither. This telegraph office is a trap. Instead of blowing it up, we'll keep doing what we've been doing and cut the telegraph lines. Trip wasn't wasted though. We got a soft bed to take a nap and look here in the paper. There's an article on how the mines are using the new railroad spur in Bonner to transport mined gold to Laramie. "That's the new spur the railroad built. They ain't got a telegraph there yet."

"How convenient for us and unfortunate for the railroad."

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At the end of another seemingly unending day, Heyes, exhausted and stumbling off the wagon in Cooper Creek, headed to the telegraph office. Opening the door, he looked around for Curry.

Instead, he heard the clacking of Mrs. Reginald's bracelets rushing to him from the left.

"Oh, Mr. Heyes, I'm so glad you're finally here. Stand over here so no one can see us," she said, as they ended up behind the closed blinds.

Heyes panicked for a minute before realizing that her expression was serious, not romantic. "What do you mean finally? You knew I was out with Mercer's crew."

"Well, I just meant Mr. Curry has been waiting for you. He said for you to meet him outside the hotel as soon as you come back. To tell you it's urgent."

Weariness fell off Heyes at the message, replaced by adrenaline as he left the office. From hard learned experience, he took a moment and surveyed the front of the hotel for trouble. In the alley, he caught a movement and saw Curry motion him over.

"Kid?"

Curry put his hand to his lips and motioned Heyes around to the back. Seeing Curry had his Colt drawn, Heyes felt naked without his gun, but it was not practical working the telegraph lines.

Leading Heyes to the hotel livery, Curry motioned to two horses standing saddled and ready.

Ducking back in the alley, Curry spoke softly, "I saw the Dryden brothers, Will and Ned, in a second-floor room watchin' the telegraph office. Maybe that rumor about them blowin' it up is true. Been watchin' their horses to see when they leave."

Heyes closed his eyes and the tiredness that had filled his body was gone, replaced by a sense of urgency. Deep in thought, he was thinking up a Hannibal Heyes plan.

"Get back." Heyes' thoughts were interrupted by Curry pushing him back into the alley. Looking around his cousin, he recognized the Dryden brothers making their way to the hotel livery.

Heyes started to move out of the alley and follow them, but Curry held him back. "Stay here, Heyes," he whispered. "Don't know what you've been doin' but you smell worse than a coyote with the mange. They'll smell ya even if they don't see ya." Curry quietly entered a side door of the livery.

"Good luck we saw Curry guarding that place," Ned Dryden said to his brother as they prepared to mount their horses.

"Yeah, never want to tangle with him…or Heyes. If Curry's here, Heyes is around somewhere. That's what scouting trips are for, to see if the idea works. This one don't."

"Well, we found our next job here anyway."

"Just luck we found that newspaper in the room."

"Good luck, brother. The kind of luck we need."

Waiting until the brothers had left, Curry found his partner. Heyes felt the stiff muscles in his calves start to cramp causing him to fall behind Curry as he headed for the front entrance of the hotel.

"Kid. Kid!"

Turning, Curry saw Heyes limping toward him. "You alright?"

"Just my calf muscles objecting to the hard work on this penance. You seem to be walking better…no cane."

"Yeah, Evelyn has been rubbing this special liniment into my ankle three times a day. Helps. Wish I had my cane now, though; ankle feels like it will give away any minute," he answered.

Heyes wished he had someone to rub liniment into his aching muscles. But then had an image of Faith Reginald and her jingling bracelets offering to do the job and changed his mind. "Wish I had some of that liniment."

Approaching the desk, Curry smiled at the Hotel desk clerk.

"Good day, Mr. Curry. What can I do for you?"

"Need to get into the front room on the second floor. The one that overlooks the telegraph office."

Curry's self-assured urgent tone forced the desk clerk to stop and think. "Well, that's not something we usually allow," he started.

"Just need to see if the occupants today left a newspaper there. It's important." Curry was straight forward, his tone firm.

Heyes thought he might try and use his silver tongue to persuade the clerk if he was unwilling. But he was tired, and his lock picks might just be quicker.

"Well, as the previous party has checked out, you're welcome to check the room. Maid won't clean it until after six tonight. Here's the key. Room twenty-seven."

"Thanks. We'll get it right back to you." Curry hesitated. "Got to go to the office and get my cane before I can get up them stairs. Here, Heyes, you head up and I'll be right back."

Unlocking the door, Heyes looked around carefully, conscious he was unarmed. Smiling, he took the newspaper out of the trash can and shook off the remains of a sandwich. Sitting in the chair by the window, he noted the clear view of the front of the telegraph office. And how the pulled blind blocked his view of the Kid's desk. He watched Curry enter the office, limping heavily, and he saw the adoring look the Kid received from Miss Crenshaw. He couldn't see Curry go to his desk but noticed that once he reappeared with his cane, he relied heavily on it.

By the time Curry entered the room, Heyes was pacing with a smile on his face. "Kid, come in. Sit down. I found the newspaper." Heyes pointed to the paper on the bed.

By how fast Heyes was talking, Curry knew a Hannibal Heyes plan was forming. Sitting with a sigh of relief to be off his ankle, he looked at the headlines and waited for Heyes to continue.

"The Will Dryden Gang is going to strike the train on the new Bonner spur. The article says it will be transporting twenty-five thousand in gold on Thursday. The telegraph there isn't installed yet"

"Great, so we let the law know and they can be waitin' for them."

Averting his eyes from Curry, Heyes answered slyly, "Well, yes and no."

"Heyes?"

"Well, I'm thinking that there should be someone else on that train waiting for the gang. Someone who wants payback."

"Heyes, remember our amnesty…"

"All legal, Kid. I just want Will and Ned Dryden to understand how angry some people get when they cut telegraph lines. Tomorrow's Thursday so we have to move fast. We need to call a meeting of the Telegraph Repair Operations Board, Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Mercer and Miss Evelyn Crenshaw and the sheriff. You think your Evelyn can set that up?"

"She's sweet but she's not my Evelyn…. seems to like the romantic idea of Kid Curry more than a Jed Curry with a bum ankle. But I do like spendin' time with her. Yeah, if I ask her, she'll set it up. Heyes, you really need a bath before you meet with anyone. What were you doin'?"

Laughing, Heyes looked at the pieces of old bison fur stuck to his clothes. "I was working on our amnesty. A bath sounds good but first I want to go by the newspaper office and see if they have any articles on the Dryden Gang's train robberies."

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Two hours later, Curry sat, with his foot up on a chair, listening to a clean, brown suited Heyes present his plan to the sheriff and the board. The silver tongue was sparkling and in full evidence as Heyes paced across the front of the room. Mr. Mercer, especially, was smiling broadly as the explanation unfolded while the sheriff scoffed.

"Heyes, always heard that you were devious." Mercer stood and shook hands as he finished. "Glad you're on our side now." Heyes suppressed his surprise and showed only a smile on his face.

Winking at Evelyn, Curry looked around the room. "The rest of you in?"

"Just make sure you keep it legal," growled the sheriff. "I'll be there to make sure you do."

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As Heyes approached the outgoing wagons the next morning, he knew his plan was being put into place. Mercer and most of the crew were armed and waiting to board the train. Three of them had their wives along. Against his best judgment, Heyes knew he was placing these women in jeopardy and had asked for volunteers. Most of the wives and older daughters volunteered without a second thought. Outlaw gangs had disrupted their lives also. After studying the newspaper accounts, Heyes had learned the Will Dryden Gang only took the time to disarm the male passengers. This was a mistake Heyes planned to exploit.

Nodding to Mercer, Heyes joined the small repair crew in the wagon. He knew the work today would be harder and longer than usual because they had fewer men, but he didn't mind. His plan would deliver some legal revenge for Mercer and his crew, and this revenge was sweet.

Curry came to work early as a way of thanking Evelyn and Mrs. Reginald for covering for him leaving early the day before. Smiling at the night telegraph operator, he limped to his desk. After the activity of the day before, his ankle had swollen again, and he settled it onto the stool and pillow under his desk. He started to send the pile of non-urgent telegrams that were stacked there.

By the time Mrs. Reginald arrived, he was caught up with outgoing and had handled the light volume of incoming.

"Why Mr. Curry, how responsible you are after you all were meeting so late last night. Anything I should know?" Mrs. Reginald exclaimed when she arrived.

"Mornin', Mrs. Reginald. Meetin' was just about details, that's all."

"Oh." Curry heard the disappointment in her voice at not garnering any new information. "I was hoping to learn why you rushed out of here yesterday with your gun drawn. It was just so exciting!"

"All in due time, ma'am. Excuse me, I have an incomin'." With a sigh of relief, Curry turned to listen to the telegram.

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Will Dryden watched calmly from the tree line as his gang forced the train to stop two miles after leaving Bonner. A strategically placed downed tree around the first curve compelled the engineer to pull on the brake. Will watched as Tall Tom jumped into the engine with his gun pointing at the engineer and stoker. Three more of his outlaw gang had disarmed the male passengers and were escorting all of the passengers off of the train. Confident his gang knew what they were doing, he figured his brother, Ned, and Fred Garson, had secured the baggage car by now and were waiting for his go ahead to blow the safe. Will strode to that railcar and banged on the door.

"Quick! Slide open this door!" he demanded as the door remained closed.

As the door slid open, Will focused on the first thing he could see, the unopened safe. He jumped into the car and froze. Three rough-looking men, one with a sheriff's star, were holding guns on Ned and now him.

"Come on in, Mr. Dryden, slowly," Mercer growled as he grabbed Dryden's gun from its holster.

Putting his hands out, Will glanced out the open railcar door. Fear washed over him as he saw the passengers holding guns on his surprised gang. As one of the outlaws dropped his gun, it was quickly retrieved by a big man who promptly knocked him on the back of the head with it.

"Mercer, control your men!" Sheriff Apperson barked. "I deputized them to arrest the train robbers, not kill them."

Mercer thought of all the damage to telegraph lines and poles this gang had perpetrated, causing extra work. That extra work had forced him to miss the birth of his sons, the death of his father, numerous holidays with his family and had taken the life of his friend, Sam. Mercer did not want to control his men. It was one thing to make repairs caused by weather or animals, but the deliberate destruction stuck in his throat and angered his heart. He knew how his men needed this revenge. So did he.

Big Steven trotted up to the railcar and yelled inside, "I'm going to check in the engine but I'm sure Kishaba and Van Horst handled the outlaws. Heyes gave real specific instructions on what to do."

"Heyes? Hannibal Heyes?" sputtered Dryden. "What's he got to do with this? Thought he was helping Curry guard the telegraph office in Cooper Creek."

Mercer and Sheriff Apperson shared a quick glance. Heyes had been right about everything. The Dryden's had scouted Cooper Creek and seen Kid Curry. He had found the weakness in Will's plan, that they never searched the women. Heyes had even predicted the exact spot the train would be stopped. Mercer felt as if he had been given a nicely wrapped present in the form of the gang that had cut his telegraph wires for the last years.

"You're looking at one of his famous plans right now. Heyes is on our side now and outlaws better watch out."

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Leaning nonchalantly against a pole, Curry was waiting when the train with the arrested outlaws pulled into Cooper Creek. Heyes' plan had been successful. He knew his partner would be insufferable for the next few days. He watched as Mercer's crew prodded the outlaws off the train.

"Will, Ned," Curry greeted them, touching his forefinger to his hat.

"Curry," Ned mumbled loudly. "What you doin' here?"

"Working. But on the right side of the law. Don't even think about tryin' to get away, boys. Heyes went through yesterday and made that jailhouse escape proof." Curry gave them his best smile. "And I'm goin' to help on guard duty. Don't think I'll be much needed. You know these men that arrested you? They're the ones that had to repair all your damage to the telegraph lines and they're holdin' a mighty big grudge against you."

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The next morning Heyes woke slowly. He had celebrated with Mercer and the men and had much more alcohol than he'd planned. Waking with a headache, he dreaded the jerking and bouncing of the wagon ride on the floorboards. This time, though, as he approached the wagon, he saw a seat was waiting for him on the bench. Acting like it was the norm, Heyes jumped up and sat down.

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"Kid, I am so thankful we'll be leaving here tomorrow." Heyes leaned back against the headboard of his bed. "None of this penance was easy for me…or my back."

Smiling at his partner, Curry still felt guilty. "You did real good, Heyes. You won the respect of those men. That wasn't easy."

"I did, didn't I? Still, this is one penance I would have liked to skip."

"Heyes?" Curry asked pensively. "How you feel about helpin' to stop another gang from robbin' a train? We could have just let the sheriff know or not said anything. They're goin' to prison, most likely."

Silence hung in their room as the men shared a silent conversation.

"Thought about that, Kid, before I suggested we help. Think we had to let the sheriff know what we suspected. After all, we're law-abiding citizens now."

"Yeah, but…"

"Kid, the Will Dryden Gang wasn't like the Devil's Hole Gang. And we only said we wouldn't do anything to turn in our gang and friends. Will and Ned Dryden aren't part of our gang and they're not friends. They have both killed during robberies. Killed a passenger and the engineer just two months ago robbing this line. We refused to let Tall Tom into Devil's Hole because he bragged about raping women." Heyes stopped and looked at his partner and sighed. "There's another reason, too. Never realized how many people we hurt robbing from the railroads. Figured only the railroad barons were getting hurt. Doing this backbreaking work these weeks made me see the hurt we do to these normal men and their families when we cut wires and knocked down poles. Letting them help stop the Dryden gang kinda made up for some of that."

Curry leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "Yeah, never thought of it that way."

"I tell you, Kid, I was jealous of you learning the telegraphic trade."

"Yeah, I know you always wanted to learn. If it wasn't for my ankle, you would have gotten your chance."

"How do you like it?"

"It was hard at first. Then it was fun. Now it is just hard to sit still at a desk and concentrate all day."

"But you work with the lovely Miss Crenshaw. I've seen the way she looks at you," Heyes teased.

"The way she looks at Kid Curry, you mean. She's in love with the character from those dime novels. Asked me over to her house for dinner the other night. What she really wanted was for me to sign her copies of just about every dime novel ever written about us. Still, it was a very pleasant evening overall. She practically swoons when I wear my gun."

"So..."

"I always wear my gun, Heyes. Feel naked without it."

Watching Curry squirm, Heyes smiled. "So, you had an enjoyable two weeks?"

"Except for feelin' guilty you got the hard part and that damn bell in the back room."

"Bell?" Heyes felt he had another puzzle he could solve.

"Yeah, a bell. When it rings, Evelyn takes a key out of her pocket and goes into that back room. Locks the door behind her, too. Doesn't happen often but maybe you'll hear it tomorrow when you work in the office with me."

"Ever just ask her what it was?"

With a querulous look, Curry answered, "No, figured she'd tell me if I needed to know."

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"I'm going to miss you, Mr. Curry," purred Mrs. Reginald on their last day of work. Turning to Heyes, who had been assigned to the telegraph office for his last day, she added, "Going to miss you too, sweetie. Such excitement you two brought with you!"

Quickly sidestepping her hug, he forced a smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Reginald."

Sitting next to Curry, Heyes watched his cousin confidently send telegrams and transcribe the incoming ones. He had to admit the Kid had learned his job well and he was good at it.

"Heyes, here's one comin' in. Write down what you hear and then we will compare."

Excited to finally be working with telegrams again, Heyes did as asked.

"Perfect, Heyes! You're gettin' the hang of this,'' Curry encouraged.

"Mr. Heyes, glad you are with us again," Miss Crenshaw said sweetly as she leaned over and saw the matching telegrams. "Very good, indeed!"

"Thank you, Miss Crenshaw. And it's Heyes, no mister."

Before she could reply, Heyes was startled by a bell ringing. With a quick look at Curry, Heyes asked innocently, "What's that?"

"Why the new telephone, the only one this side of Laramie." As she answered, she swiftly opened the locked door and entered the back room.

"A telephone! I ain't neer seen one of them." Curry's enthusiasm added a twinkle to his blue eyes.

Sharing Curry's curiosity, Heyes' thoughts wandered to the separate wires he had noticed on the poles heading towards Laramie.

"Jed, Mr. Heyes…er Heyes? Would you come in here? You have a telephone call. Faith, would you handle the office?"

Heyes approached the telephone with curiosity and respect.

"Here speak into here. Say hello."

"Hello?"

"Hello, Heyes. The Kid there with you?"

"Lom! I can hear you!" yelled Heyes. "Yeah, the Kid's right here."

Miss Crenshaw gently put her hand on Heyes' wrist. "No need to yell so. Just talk into the receiver."

Curry grabbed the phone. "Lom, that you?"

"Yes, Kid, it's Lom. Put Heyes back on. I have someone who wants to speak with him."

With a smile, Curry handed the phone to Heyes. "It's Lom!"

"I know." Heyes smiled, looking at the phone in amazement. "Lom, it's Heyes again."

Instead of Lom, a deep, reserved voice replaced him. "Mr. Heyes, this is the governor."

Panic flooded Heyes brown eyes, and he used his free hand to push his hair back out of his eyes. He stood up straighter before he answered. "Sir?"

"Mr. Heyes, I called to commend you for your help in capturing the Will Dryden Gang. And thank Mr. Curry for me, also."

"Thank you, sir," Heyes said the right words even though he was still trying to convince himself he had done the right thing planning their capture. The initial burst of panic was gone.

"I wasn't convinced that now was the time to give you two amnesties, but I have been pleased by the positive results of the penance program. It reflects nicely on this office. This arrest is a nice bonus. That gang was a thorn in my side. They murdered an engineer recently. He was a friend of my family."

Heyes nodded in response.

"He can't see you nod, Mr. Heyes," Miss Crenshaw whispered with a quick wink to Curry.

Heyes looked embarrassed. "Yes, sir. We're certainly trying hard to do each penance as good as we can."

'Well, my thanks to you and Mr. Curry, again. Sheriff Trevors wishes to talk to Mr. Curry. Goodbye, Mr. Heyes."

"Goodbye, sir."

"Kid?" Lom's voice boomed through the receiver.

Hastily Heyes handed the phone to Curry while mouthing, "It's Lom."

"Lom?"

"That ankle healed enough to ride a horse yet?

"Haven't tried but I should be able to."

"Let Heyes listen with you. Here's where you're going next. Someone will meet you there."

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