Chapter Two

The gravel-voiced stranger prodded at Curry's back with his rifle. "OK, let's go. I told ya, Mr. Beaumont don't like to be kept waiting." As he moved past Heyes and Curry to get to the front door, they got their first look at him. He had the face of a sad bulldog. Heyes had a feeling that his unhappy countenance hid a mean and dangerous soul. He tapped on the heavy wooden door, four times slowly.

Within a few seconds, the door was opened by another rough-featured fellow. He was also holding a rifle. At the opposite end of the foyer stood yet another rifle-toting ruffian. In addition to the rifles, each man had a holster fastened to his thigh.

Kid Curry felt a few beads of perspiration break out across his forehead as he calculated the odds. They were definitely against him and Heyes and he was pretty sure they hadn't been "invited" here for a social call. His hand, with a mind of its own, drifted to his empty holster.The empty weightlessness of it only made him feel more vulnerable.

He didn't have long to ponder their predicament before pain as sharp as a saber sliced through his head. A few bright sparks of light dazzled his eyes momentarily, then darkness overtook him as he sank to the ground.

Heyes started to feel alarmed as soon as the front door of the expensive house opened before them. Although the foyer he stepped into was brightly lit and handsomely furnished, he didn't feel welcomed there. The three men holding rifles on him and Curry looked as mean as rabid badgers. Unarmed, he knew he and Kid were at their mercy for the time being.

Standing just inside the entry, rain still dripping from their wet clothes, his mind searched for a way out. He watched, from the corner of his eye, as the first man brought the butt of his rifle down hard against the back of Curry's head. He could hear, and almost feel, the crack of wood against his friend's skull as he watched Kid's eyes roll back in his head and he slumped lifelessly to the floor next to him.

An anguished "Kid!" burst from him before he could check himself. He lunged for him but before he could reach him, he was warned off by one of the other gunmen.

"You two. Get him picked up off the floor. Take him into the parlor and tie him up next to the other one." Gesturing with his rifle, he turned his attention back to Heyes. "You. Start walking." Heyes hadn't yet taken his eyes off Kid, who hadn't moved since taking the hit. "Don't worry about him. He's not dead, just out cold. He'll be fine…at least as long as you do as you're told. Now move!"

Heyes followed Curry's prone body down a long hallway. The parlor was as brightly lit as the rest of the house and just as foreboding. A poker table and chairs dominated the center of the room. Against the far wall stood two straight-backed wooden chairs. One of them sat empty.

Heyes' blood ran colder when he saw what occupied the other chair. Jenny was there, dressed in a voluminous flowered flannel nightdress. Her head drooped forward in what was surely an uncomfortable position. She was unmistakably out cold, the same as Curry. Anger forced fear to the background of Heyes' thoughts. Sparks flew from his eyes as he turned on the thug holding the rifle. "What kind of people are you? Did you hit her with a rifle too? Have you no decency at all?"

"You best calm down, young fella. 'Course we didn't clunk her upside the head. We knocked her out with some chloroform, that's all. Last night, back at the hotel. She'll be comin' around shortly, I expect."

"Alright, this has gone far enough. You can't treat law-abiding citizens like this. The sheriff—"

"I wouldn't put too much stock in the sheriff, son. Mr. Beaumont—"

"Where is Beaumont? Get him in here. I wanna see him, now!"

"In due time…for now, you can just take a seat at the card table."

"No. I want to check on my—"

The gunman deliberately slid the pistol from his holster and leveled it at Heyes' chest, "I told you before that I wouldn't have any problem shooting you. That ain't changed. Sit!"

By this time, the other two had finished tying Kid's hands and feet. He was still unconscious. "OK, Grif. This one isn't going anywhere. What do you want us to do now?" asked the rougher looking one.

"Yeah, you want me and Rube to tie the other one now?"

"No, Dodd. This one gets to stay loose, Mr. Beaumont's orders. You guys just stand over there and wait 'til the boss gets here."

Grif re-holstered his gun and went to stand in front of Curry and Jenny. He grabbed a handful of Kid's blonde curls and roughly pulled his head up. "Still out. That won't do. Rube, give me those smelling salts. Let's see if we can bring him around. Don't want him missing all the fun." After a couple of passes of the strongly vile liquid, Kid's eyelids fluttered and he jerked his head away in protest to the fumes assaulting his nostrils. The sudden movement sent shockwaves of pain through his injured head and he cried out softly in his semi-conscious state. Another pass brought him around more fully. He tried to raise his hand to assess the damage and found his hands were bound behind him.

"Thaddeus, are you OK?" Heyes asked, as much to remind his waking friend to use his alias as to check on his condition.

"Yeah…what happened? I feel like I got run over by a horse. What's going on?" Noticing Jenny next to him for the first time, he asked again, this time a little fearfully, "Joshua? What's going on?"

"I don't know, Thaddeus."

Grif was using the smelling salts on Jenny. "Wake up, pretty lady. Time to join the party." The salts had the desired results and soon Jenny was roused.

"Oh, heck. My head is killing me. How much did I drink last night…? What...? Where am I? Who are you guys?" Noticing Heyes and Curry, she asked, "Boys? What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, Jenny. You were right about Beaumont. He is dangerous. He had these guys grab you to get back at us. Sorry we got you into this."

"Shut up, all of you. Mr. Beaumont is coming."

Jeremy Beaumont came into the room. He walked swiftly and authoritatively, but somehow on him, it ended up looking slightly effeminate. If their situation hadn't seemed so dire, Heyes might have smiled or even laughed outright at the image Jeremy projected. Instead, his face remained impassive, revealing none of the intense inner turmoil churning within him.

"Aw good. All my special guests have arrived. Now the party can begin."

"Party?" Heyes asked evenly.

"Yes…well… I had such a good time playing cards with you fellows in the saloon, I thought I'd invite you out here for a private game."

"You have a lot to learn about throwing a party, Jeremy," Heyes said pleasantly. He even managed a small smile, starting to understand that Jeremy might be even more dangerous than Jenny thought. Since he and his goons had the upper hand, Heyes knew he would need to play along for a while.

"So here's what we're going to do. We're gonna have ourselves a friendly game, just us two. And this time, the stakes are a little higher. You'll be playing for your friend's freedom."

"You can't be serious!"

"Oh, but I am, Mr. Smith."

"Why are you doing this?"

"That should be obvious…you and your gunhead friend humiliated me in town yesterday. Now it's my turn to get even."

Heyes wanted to scream at Jeremy and tell him he was insane, but he forced himself to remain silent. He couldn't afford to enflame his captor any further. "Rube and Dodd, you can go about your business. Grif and I have everything under control here."

As the others left, a young man entered the room. "I put their horses in the stable, Grif. Here are their guns. Where do you want 'em, Mr. Beaumont?"

"Oh, just put them over there," he said, waving his hand towards a low table near the wall.

"Do you think that's a good idea, sir?" Grif asked. "Maybe we should lock 'em up. Just to be safe."

"Oh, I don't think we need to worry. This one doesn't know how to shoot. He lets his friend fight his battles for him."

Heyes and Curry exchanged a look. They both knew this could be the break that would save them. Heyes might not be as quick on the draw as Kid, but he made up for it with his intelligence and cunning.

"Shall we begin?" Jeremy flashed a brief smile. "How much cash did you bring with you, Mr. Smith?"

"Actually, Jer, all our money is locked in the safe at the hotel. All I have on me is a couple of dollars. Guess we're just going to have to call the whole thing off."

"Hmmm…No cash? What a pity…Well, I guess I'll just have to make you a loan. Very inconsiderate of you to be so unprepared, I must say." A large picture hung on the wall next to where Kid and Jenny were tied. Jeremy released a latch on one side of the picture and it swung away from the wall to reveal a safe hidden behind it. As Heyes watched, Jeremy worked the combination. The door opened with a barely audible click. When he turned back around, Jeremy was holding five stacks of $100 bills.

"I prefer playing with real money rather than chips, don't you, Mr. Smith? So much more satisfying. I just love the feel of real money."

Heyes did not reply.

"So here's what I was thinking. I'll spot you $5,000. That's very generous, don't you think? All you have to do is win this $20,000," he waggled the remaining four stacks of bills before Heyes' eyes, "to secure the release of your two friends. Just $10,000 apiece."

If you play anything like you did yesterday, that shouldn't be a problem," Heyes said confidently. "We'll be on our way before noon."

"Yes, well, we shall see. We shall certainly see." Something in Jeremy's tone sent a shiver down Heyes' spine.

Jeremy sat down and picked up the deck of cards. He shuffled and said, "I'll deal." Antes were made, cards were dealt, Heyes drew two cards and bet a couple thousand, hoping to get done as quickly as possible. He was fairly confident that Jeremy had little to bet on but he raised anyway. By the time the hand was over, the pot had grown to $6,000. "Call."

Heyes showed his cards. "Two pair, aces over tens."

Grimly, Jeremy revealed his hand—a pair of queens. He waved in Grif's direction. The gunnie left his post near the door, approached the table, and without warning, slammed the back of his open hand viciously across Heyes' face, sending his head whipping sideways. Almost immediately, an angry red welt raised on his cheek. Startled and hurt, his fingers explored the area around his cheekbone. "What was that for?"

"Just trying to make the game a little more interesting. You see, this way, even if I lose, I win."

"So if I win…your goon smacks me around a little?"

"Something like that. Your deal."

The second hand played out pretty much like the first. Heyes had no trouble reading Jeremy and Jeremy bet wildly with little to back it up. Heyes won easily. As he raked in the pot, Grif swung at him again, this time hitting him across the mouth, splitting his lip. A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. Other than the cold, menacing anger that shone from his eyes, Heyes refused to give Jeremy the satisfaction of reacting to the pain. He had no doubt he could withstand whatever physical punishment was thrown at him long enough to secure the release of his friends.

The next hand, Heyes had nothing. He folded early and let Jeremy have the small pot. He won the next hand and was steeling himself for the blow he knew was coming. This time, however, Grif ignored Heyes and walked over to where Curry and Jenny sat, still tied. He looked from one to the other, then he slammed his fist savagely into Kid's stomach. Curry doubled over from the pain. When he sat upright again, his face had taken on an ashen hue.

Heyes started to rise, but before he could get to his feet, Grif had whirled around, gun in hand. Heyes reluctantly settled back into his chair. "Are you alright, Thaddeus?"

Jeremy laughed cruelly. "Finally, a chink in your armor…"

"Don't worry about me, Joshua. I've taken harder punches from old ladies. You just keep doing what you have to do."

That's right, Joshua. You keep it up. Maybe next time, Grif will show the lovely lady what happens," Jeremy smirked cruelly.

Heyes felt panicked. He needed time to think. He knew he could take whatever Grif threw his way, but he found it harder to watch his friends suffer. Curry was one of the toughest men he knew but, as his friend, Heyes did not like to see suffering come his way. And as for Jenny, hurting women was against everything Heyes stood for. He wasn't sure if he could sit back and allow it to happen, let alone be the cause of it. On the other hand, if he didn't win their release, there was no telling what Jeremy would do to them. To buy time, he decided to bet small and fold early, letting Jeremy take the pots while they are small.

Eventually though, he realized he was going to have to start winning again. The next hand, he was dealt three kings and knew it was time to bet big. He had an idea that he hoped would spare Jenny too much pain. He drew two more cards and was dealt the fourth king.

"You won again, Mr. Smith. Too bad for your lady friend." Grif approached Jenny.

She looked up at him defiantly. "Go ahead, you big ape. What are you waiting for?"

"Nuthin'." He grinned malevolently and slapped her across the face, though not quite as viciously as he might have. Tears sprang to her eyes from the stinging pain, but she was too proud and too strong to shed a tear. Instead, she stared him down until he walked away.

Heyes gritted his teeth and tried to remain calm. He would have liked to lunge at Jeremy and strangle him with his bare hands, but he knew he had to keep a cool head if he was going to help his friends. And now he had a plan to at least remove Jenny from further harm.

"Jeremy, you said I would need $10,000 to win the freedom of each of my friends, a total of $20,000, right?"

"Sure. That's the deal. $10,000 each."

"Well, I have about $15,000 here in front of me now, not counting the $5,000 you spotted me. I want you to release one of my friends now."

"You need $20,000."

"No. I need $20,000 for both. I want you to release one now and then we'll play some more."

"I suppose you want me to set Mr. Jones loose. You must think I'm stupid if you expect me to do that."

"Uh…well…that is what I was thinking…but if you aren't willing, I guess I'll take Jenny."

"Hmmm…I'm not sure."

"C'mon. You said $10,000 for each. I've been playing by your rules. You should too."

Jeremy considered this. "Grif, untie the woman. Bring her over here to the table where we can watch her. Any funny business, we tie her up again. Understand?"

While Jeremy was talking and Grif was untying Jenny, Heyes and Curry were staring at each other, conversing with their eyes. Curry glanced at their guns still sitting, forgotten, on the table. Heyes was certain he knew what Curry was trying to tell him.

Heyes managed to look nonchalant as the next hand started but his insides were taut and coiled, ready to act as soon as an opportunity presented itself. He had nothing to play with so he folded quickly and the pot went to Jeremy. The next two hands went the same way.

Jeremy was enjoying his rare winning streak. "Maybe you aren't as good a player as I thought, Smith. Seems the cards aren't going your way any more. Too bad for your hot-headed friend over there."

After the next deal, Heyes was holding a straight flush. He bet conservatively, hoping he wouldn't need the full $10,000 to end this game and put an end to Jeremy's game as well.

Jeremy was playing confidently and raised, forcing Heyes to risk more of his stake. "Call." Jeremy laid his cards on the table, revealing a full house. When Heyes turned up his straight flush, Jeremy's face turned the color of the Queen of Diamonds. With a cry of frustration and rage, he sprang from the table like someone had lit a firecracker under his chair, scattering money and cards everywhere.

He called Grif off Curry and strode angrily towards Kid, arm already upraised and ready to strike out savagely. Heyes knew that this was the time to act and he prayed that Kid was ready.

Jeremy brought his arm around hard, in a wide arc. Quick as lightning, Curry's forearm flew up to block the blow that was about to find its mark. Jeremy's eyes widened even more in shock and surprise as Curry delivered a forceful hit to his midsection. "Let's see how you like it." Curry's wrists were raw and bleeding, but he had finally managed to work loose the knots that had bound him.

As soon as Heyes saw Kid make his move, he made one of his own. He jumped from his chair and in one fluid motion ran to where the guns were lying, grabbed them up, whirled around, and tossed one to his partner. Curry caught it effortlessly just as Jeremy was collapsing from the blow Kid landed. He lay on the floor like an empty gunnysack, all bravado gone.

Grif reached for his gun and had it halfway out of his holster before Curry turned his pistol on him. Defeated, he returned the gun to its resting place and raised his hands in the air.

Heyes had his gun sight trained on Jeremy who was still lying on the floor with his legs drawn up, moaning. His hand holding the gun shook with barely contained rage, his other arm hung rigidly at his side, hand clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. "Don't, Joshua. It's not worth it." Heyes didn't appear to hear. His eyes didn't even blink. He couldn't remember ever feeling so much hatred for another human being.

Just then, Jeremy put his hands over his face and started to sob. This broke the trance Heyes was in. "You're right, Thaddeus. He isn't worth it. Let's go."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

"Wait. Let's tie them up first so we have time to get away."

With Jeremy and Grif securely bound and gagged, maybe a little more tightly than really necessary, the three quietly left to retrieve their horses and ride back to town.

It was not yet noon.