Trail to the Golden Ring

(How did Heyes and Curry come to the conclusion that Lom Trevors was the only choice to act as the go-between with themselves and the Governor of Wyoming?)

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"One thing we gotta get, Heyes..."

"What's that?"

"Outta this business!"

Heyes and Curry had just one advantage over the posse hot on their trail. They knew the back way leading into Devil's Hole. All they needed was enough distance between themselves and the flying bullets coming from behind them in rapid succession, so as not to not be seen when they veered off toward Devil's Hole. The last thing they wanted to do was to lead a posse to the unmanned and unprotected, but very well camouflaged, secret back entrance.

"Head higher, Kid!" Heyes shouted to his partner. "We gotta get off the road and into the woods!"

Kid waited until they had turned a bend, cutting off the posse's view of them for a minuscule amount of time. He pulled hard on his reins, forcing the well trained chestnut into an almost ninety degree turn, then quickly turned his head to see that Heyes had safely done the same, and to witness the posse continue to race down the road, the hooves of their racing horses kicking up a cloud of dust behind them...

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"Thought you two just quit the gang," Wheat Carlson said with obvious irritation upon seeing Heyes and Curry ride into the Devil's Hole compound and pull their horses to a stop outside the leader's cabin."

"Don't get your feathers all ruffled, Wheat," Kid said as he and Heyes dismounted and tied their horses to the post.

"We'll be outta here in the morning," Heyes explained. "Can't go without taking our things."

Wheat rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He had planned to move into the leader's cabin that very evening. But he could plainly read the determined, no nonsense look on Kid's face and knew better than to push the issue.

"S'pose one more night won't make no difference," he grumbled.

"Everybody make it back alright?" Heyes asked as any respectable leader would.

Wheat nodded as he shuffled his feet in disgust.

"Good. Kid, let's get packing," Heyes replied and headed for the cabin.

Once inside the cabin, with the door firmly closed, Heyes peeled off his gun belt and tossed it on the table, then began pacing nervously across the cabin floor.

"I thought we was packing," Kid said, watching his partner curiously.

Heyes nodded and scratched his forehead. He stopped suddenly and walked to the cupboard and withdrew two glasses and the half full bottle of whiskey, all of which he plopped down hard on the table.

"Kid, we can't walk out of here without a plan," Heyes explained as he sat down and began pouring them each a shot.

Wrinkles quickly formed along Kid's brow and he walked across the room slowly to join his partner at the table.

"What kind of plan?"

"Well, I think we're both serious about giving this all up, right?"

Kid nodded his head. "Right."

"Well, giving this all up don't change the bounties on our heads, don't change the jail sentences, don't change the dead or alive status. I don't know about you, but I don't particularly want to be on the run for the next twenty years."

Kid sighed heavily and took a healthy drink of his whiskey. "So what, we head down to Mexico?"

Heyes shook his head. "Takes money to do that, Kid. Last I checked, ours is sitting in the bottom of pond, likely getting buried in the muck."

Kid pulled the amnesty flier back out of his pocket, unfolded it, and laid it on the table. "Suppose if we was to go talk to the Governor? Maybe pay him a private visit in the middle of the night?"

Heyes picked up the paper and glanced at it absently while shaking his head. "We can't go breaking into the Governor's Mansion asking for amnesty, Kid. Don't think he'd find us too convincing with our arguments."

"Well we can't schedule an appointment," Kid replied and polished off his remaining whiskey, then reached for the bottle and refilled both glasses.

"You're right. We gotta have somebody do our talking for us."

"Heyes, we don't know no respectable folks," Kid reminded him.

"Let me think on it for a minute."

"How about Silky or Soapy? They both got money and politicians respect folks with money," Kid suggested.

"But they both live in San Francisco, Kid. I doubt either one of them makes any financial contributions to the Wyoming Governor's political fund. No, it might have to be somebody with some other kind of influence."

"Heyes, even if we knew one, there ain't no high society woman gonna go offering her favors to the Governor for the likes of us."

Heyes sighed. "You're right. You're absolutely right. The person's got to have some other kind of political influence. It's gotta be someone the Governor admires...Maybe someone who has pulled himself up by his bootstraps. You know, someone who come from nothing and made something of himself."

Kid thought for several minutes but could think of no one matching Heyes' qualifications. "You know anybody like that?" he finally asked.

Heyes didn't hear Kid. He was lost in thought, nervously biting on a fingernail, rocking back and forth ever so slightly.

"Heyes, you know anybody like that?" Kid asked again.

A moment passed before Kid saw the signs of the switch turning on in Heyes' mind. The corners of Heyes' mouth began to spread wide and he snapped his fingers, sat up straight, looked directly at Kid, and smiled knowingly.

"Lom Trevors," Heyes announced triumphantly

"The outlaw?" Kid asked, stupefied by Heyes' obvious loss of rational sense and logic.

"He ain't an outlaw no more, Kid. He's a Sheriff, right here in Wyoming."

"I know what he is, Heyes. What I don't know is why you think Lom is the man to convince the Governor to grant us an amnesty."

"The very fact that he was an outlaw and he pulled himself up by his bootstraps. Don't you see, Kid? Lom is the perfect example of someone that started out on the wrong side of the law, and made good. Turned himself into somebody."

"Lom ain't the most...articulate person in the world, you know," Kid countered.

"That works in our favor too, Kid. The Governor likely sees Lom as a...a common man, not someone he has to play political games with, but someone who has turned honest... and has convinced two outlaw friends to do the same."

"Outlaw friends?"

"Well he use to be," Heyes said defensively. "Before he went straight, anyway."

"What makes you think Lom would be willing to talk to the Governor for us?"

Heyes sighed. "That might be the hard part, Kid. Might just take a little convincing on our part."

"And what if he says no? If we go talk to him, and he says no, he might just toss us in one of them cells of his. Maybe we ought to rethink Mexico, Heyes."

"No Kid. We gotta try this. You gotta remember, the Governor ain't gonna be too receptive to giving us amnesty...With his background, Lom is the only person on this earth that just might be able to convince him."

Kid breathed out slowly through pursed lips. "Heyes... I sure hope you know what you're doing."

Heyes brought his shot glass up close to his face, then locked eyes with his partner.

"So do I, Kid... So do I."