The Annual Roast

(This article first appeared in the September 1935 world renowned periodical Fictitious Science, History, and Archaeology ).

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While much is known about the harsh lives of the American West's notorious cowboys, outlaws, lawmen, and struggling pioneers, there remains one very obscure element about the outlaw genre that has merited little if any attention in the annals of the history books. To this day little is known about the obscure ritual that remains shrouded in mystery.

Outlaws were a unique element of the wild west. These high profile men and, on rare occasion women, were a secretive bunch, achieving high notoriety while seeking great wealth and low profiles. They lived isolated lives, tucked away in rustic camps they called hideouts, hidden deep in forested or mountainous regions. Many wore masks or bandannas to cover their faces during their dangerous escapades, and they often referred to each other in code names such as Kid, Wheat, Hognose, Sundance, or Butch. Some met gruesome and untimely deaths, while others spent the majority of their adult lives behind bars. A few worked alone or partnered with another, but many were members of large groups commonly referred to as gangs.

Surprisingly many Outlaw gangs kept meticulous records of robberies and heists. Equally surprising was that these records were seldom recorded about the successes and failures about one's own gang, but rather of the achievements and fiascoes of other gangs, and the information often included the captures, trials, and hangings of rival outlaws. It is surmised that these records were maintained with a specific purpose in mind which the authors of this article will address later.

Outlaws often preferred to trade for food and other necessities with nearby Indian tribes rather than risk exposing themselves to the obvious perils of venturing into a town where they might be recognized by local law enforcement. It is theorized that it was the Indian tradition of the annual gathering of tribes that lead to the outlaws forming their own secret annual gathering of gangs that they referred in a coded guise as 'The Annual Roast.' It is suspected, but not yet proven by historians, that the aforementioned records were maintained specifically for use at these annual events.

The author of this highly acclaimed research project spent years delving into this most secretive aspects of the outlaw way of life. This author traveled extensively throughout the west, visiting libraries and museums, exploring ghost towns and the scant remains of hideouts, speaking to now distant relatives of many famous outlaws, reading newspaper articles, diaries and journals, as well as the very few remaining records mentioned in the above paragraphs. The result of this research has enabled researchers to formulate a realistic enactment of a typical Annual Outlaw Roast.

Indeed the most fascinating of these obscure documents was found about ten years ago, buried in a dust covered box hidden deep within the storage room of the Cheyenne Public Library. Here was found what has proven to be the only known surviving remnants of the written record of one such Annual Roast. These delicate, yellowed papers contained hand written pencil scrawlings, now faded and brittle, of the 1878 Annual Roast held at an outlaw hideout referred to as 'Devil's Hole,' home to the Devil's Hole gang once lead by Hannibal Heyes and Jed "Kid" Curry. Further research has shown that the crumbling remains of this hideout are still visible today, tucked deep in the Big Horn Mountains of western Wyoming.

The following is the transcript of that 1876 rendezvous which historians hope will give the reader a feel for what transpired among some of the West's most notorious outlaw gangs. Quotation marks have been omitted, just as they were in the original hand scrawled records. The guests of honor at this particular rendezvous were aforementioned leaders, Curry and Heyes. Spelling and grammar were transcribed just as they appeared in the original documents.

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Scribe: Alright, quiet down. We got a lot of information to cover tonight. We're gonna call this meeting to order. Need somebody to second that.

Cassidy: I second that.

Scribe: Fine. Motion approved. Gonna turn this meeting over to the Moderator unless there's any objections. (Note: no objections spoke out loud).

Moderator: Quiet down now. Quiet down. There's liquor waiting for us so we don't want this to take all night. Shut your big bazoos!

Scribe: (shot fired in the air and the chatter stopped)

Moderator: Now before we get to the entertainment for the night, and no, we ain't got no booty so there won't be no banging for you fellas tonight, but we do got some business to tend to. First off, anybody seen Kyle Murtry's horse? It's missing again.

Voice in the crowd: Check the hitchen post, Kyle?

Scribe: No response

Moderator: Second thing is that it has been brought to my attention that we got a very high number of outlaws with the moniker of Kid. How many out there are currently being called Kid?

Scribe: a count of 25 of the 200 hundred men present raised their hands.

Moderator: Alright, it has been suggested that nobody can assign the name Kid to nobody new for the next year. All in favor?

Scribe: Vote was 198 in favor with one abstention and no vote from Kyle Murtry who is out looking for his horse.

Moderator: The ayes have it. No more Kid monikers for the next year. Anybody got any new things to bring up?

Scribe: No response from the crowd.

Moderator: Alright then, here's the lowdown. We's gonna move on to the Roast. This year's guinea pigs is Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. You twos come on up here and take one of them two seats. Kid, you know the rules. Sometimes these roasts get a bit mean spirited. Being a gunman, you gotta turn your gun over to me till the end of the meeting.

Kid: What about Heyes?

Scribe: room chuckled.

Moderator: Now we all know Heyes could empty his gun out on the crowd and hit nary a person.

Scribe: Room applauded. Kid Curry surrendered gun to Moderator.

Moderator: As Moderator, I'm gonna get the party started here. You all know me as Butch Cassidy and I don't see no reason to reveal what my dear mother would refer to as my Christian name. Now Sundance and me have been leading The Wild Bunch for more that ten years and I doubt there's a man in this room would dispute we's a couple of the most notorious and successful outlaws that ever rode these western trails. Hell, every man, woman, and child that lived west of the Mississippi could identify us on sight, that is until until a couple of green horned newcomers, one of whom could pass as my twin brother minus a few years, decided to make a name for themselves. The problem was, Sundance and me used finesse in our work, while these two were often just blatantly inept. While Sundance and our gang could crack or blow a safe in just a few well spent minutes, Heyes and Curry once tied a Brooker 202 to three lassos and dragged the damn thing to the top of a mountain where they then proceeded to push it over the edge.

Scribe: room filled with laughter and H & C dropped their heads, though shoulders indicated they was laughing.

Moderator: The way I heard it, one of their own fledglings up and decided to pull a coup on them and Heyes and Curry just up an let him do it. In fact, they even helped toss that safe over the edge a second time. Now fifty thousand dollars lays buried in the muck of some old pond.

Scribe: Laughter in the room.

Moderator: Now like I said, a lot of people seem to think me and Kid Curry share a resemblance, both got fair colored hair, lips women swoon over, and azure bedroom eyes. Well, I don't rightly see no resemblance. When I look at Kid Curry, the only thing I see is that Colt .45 that he has managed to build his reputation around. Lord knows how he done that, cause I've heard tell he ain't never killed nobody. And what kind of outlaw is that with no hanging offense on his wanted poster? Curry, let me give you a sound piece of advice. If you ain't killed nobody by the time you is twelve or thirteen years old, you just ain't got it in you. Oh, and I just heard last week that little Annie Oakley just clocked in at a shooting speed two tenths of a second faster than you. Course she was talking about her gun and rumor has it your record shooting speed don't involve no Colt 45. Now I'm gonna turn you over to the next speaker.

Scribe: Laughter in the room

Kyle Murtry: For those of you who don't know me, my name is Kyle and I run with the Devil's Hole Gang. Now I don't mean to dispute you Mr. Cassidy, but I doubt there's a man on this earth that can shoot faster than the Kid, gun or no gun... Just ask any saloon girl around. And I bet if he tried real hard, Heyes here could shoot his gun into the crowd and manage to hit somebody.

Scribe: Nervous laughter in the crowd. Heyes pulled his gun from his holster and waved it in the air as he smiled.

Kyle: Now I was already with the Devil's Hole Gang before Heyes and Curry joined up... and took over. I'm the dynamite expert in the gang.

Scribe: low rumble in the crowd

Kyle: Well, according to Heyes, if a fella can rig dynamite and not get hisself blowed up in the process, that right there makes him an expert. Well me and the gang robbed a train headed for Columbine and it was my job to rig up the dynamite to the safe, and I done it without a hitch. Not one man, woman, or child was injured. Course Heyes and the Kid had made us ford a river getting' there and the dynamite got wet so it didn't explode, but like the true leader that he is, Heyes came up with Plan B right there on the spot, and I bet not one of you other gangs ever throwed a safe off the top of a mountain before... Yeah, we lost fifty thousand dollars on that job, but like Heyes pointed out to us all, the idea was good.

Scribe: ominous silence throughout the room.. Murtry stood at the podium shuffling his feet and slowly chewing a thick wad of tobacco until Wheat Carlson cleared his throat and jerked his head and Murtry stepped down and took his seat.

Moderator: Wheat Carlson, I s'pect it's your turn.

Scribe: Carlson ambled up to the podium, rubbed his hand across his chin and glowered at the crowed.

Wheat: Ah, weren't too long ago that Kid Curry found himself in some trouble up in Montana. Maybe some of you heard about it. He was arrested and charged with murder. Well, when I heard about it, I went to the gang told em what had happened and all the loyal members, every last one of em, me included, rode up there to see about busting him outta jail. Kyle even brought dynamite and kept it dry the whole trip. Well as it turned out, the Kid had struck gold as it was some greenhorn easterner from Minnesota that was claiming to be Kid Curry that got hisself arrested. The Kid, he was smart enough to appreciate his good fortune, but Heyes said letting that fella hang as Kid Curry would be nothing but trouble. So instead of letting sleeping dogs lie, or letting Kyle and my dynamite the jail, Heyes here come up with some cockamamie plan that included dressing some old, old man up as a woman and breaking that greenhorn outta jail and hiding him and that saloon girl girlfriend of his in a cave. Well, you can all imagine how that turned out and I think Kyle and the rest of the boys will all agree that plans have gotten a lot simpler and easier since I became the leader of the Devil's Hole gang."

Scribe: Clapping by a half a dozen men could be heard scattered throughout the room as Wheat took his seat.

Heyes: And how many banks and trains have you and the boys managed to rob since Kid and me went straight?

Moderator: Since there appears to be a bit of animosity within the Devil's Hole Gang, why don't we hear from another gang now. Sundance, you got anything to say?

Scribe: The Sundance Kid stood and walked up to the podium.

Sundance: My partner, Butch has had more than one occasion when he was mistaken for Kid Curry. But I just don't see the resemblance that some folks talk about. I admit that most of these cases of mistaken identity have involved saloon girls and I am not exaggerating when I say that after each of them girls has been the recipient of Butch's wild oats, each and every one of em have said there is absolutely no comparison.

Scribe: A roar of laughter erupted in the room and Curry's hand slid to his now empty holster.

Sundance: On a more serious note now I will say that Butch has confessed o being flattered by the comparison. These two young bucks remind me a lot of Butchand me when we were their age. Of course we were a might more successful with our robberies and a bit more frugal with the money we earned. That's why Butch and Ime can actually afford to head down to Bolivia and live out our lives on Easy Street. I hear these two are actually taking a more difficult road by actually seeking an amnesty, and all I can say to that is good luck with that one, fellas. With no means of attaining a sizable income, and posses and bounty hunters still after you, and a twenty year prison term still hanging over your heads, I think it's a pretty safe bet Butch and me will reach a ripe old age one day and I doubt that holds true for the two of you.

Heyes: A safe bet, uh? You wanna flip a coin on that?

Scribe: Nervous laughter heard among the audience.

Sundance: I've heard about your coin tosses, Heyes. I don't know why the Kid still agrees to them.

Moderator: Anyone else care to opine?

Scribe: A tall, slender man dressed in black stood and approached the podium as Sundance returned to his table.

Holiday: Don't know as I qualify as an outlaw, though I know some would say yes, which is how I managed to get an invite to this auspicious occasion. I'm John Holiday, more commonly known as Doc Holiday, and I've had the pleasure of meeting Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry on a couple of troubling occasions. I don't know how successful of outlaws they are, or was, but I do know Heyes is a fine poker player. The fact is, I lost twenty thousand dollars to him once in a poker game.

Scribe: a rumbling of ohhs and awes echoed about the room.

Holiday: And if he'd been able to hold on to it, I suspect he and the Kid might have been willing to go to Bolivia with Butch and Sundance. But, fortunately for me, I was able to win every red cent back just a day or two later. So I guess Heyes ain't quite the expert poker player he fancies himself to be. But I also know he is as loyal a friend as ever there was, and I suspect Kid Curry is the same. When the Kid ran into a spot of trouble and was arrested, bailed outta jail by a pretty little schoolmarm, then kidnapped and accused of robbing a bank, Heyes here charmed the pretty little lady and managed to locate and free the Kid and get him cleared of all charges. Now that's the sign of a loyal friend. Of course that too involved a bit of poker shenanigans and I risked seven thousand dollars on that so called brilliant idea of his. But in the end, it worked, and I got my money back. So when I heard that Heyes and Curry were the guests of honor at this year's roast, why I just had to come and offer a tip of my hat to these two outlaws. They are both a couple of pretty good bad men.

Scribe: Heyes and Curry both stood and applauded as Doc Holiday took his seat.

Moderator: I see another fellow in the back making his way up here to speak

Preacher: For anyone who don't know me, folks just call me Preacher and I've rode with a number of gangs and partnered with a couple of other outlaws over the course of my running days. I was with the Devil's Hole Gang for a number of years, so I know Heyes and the Kid as well as any. They've come to my rescue a time or two and I'm proud to say I've done the same for them. Now it don't come to no surprise to many that I found religion early on in life and some folks might find it hard to see how a man of the cloth can reconcile that with the life of an outlaw. My only answer to that is that the Lord works in mysterious ways, and the Lord himself giveth and taketh away so outlawing just seems to follow in the Lord's footsteps, and who am I to question the Lord? Now Kid and Heyes don't go carrying a Bible around with em and don't dress like an evangelist preacher like I do, but they follow the Golden Rule as close as any men I've seen. When they was leading the Devil's Hole Gang, their number one rule was not to kill nobody, and their number two rule was to never steal from no common folk, and the gang lived by them rules. I'm proud to say that not one of us that run with the Devil's Hole Gang is wanted for anything worse that stealing and we owe that to Heyes and the Kid. So I guess I speak for the whole gang when I say we was proud to be a part of the Devil's Hole Gang run by Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. And I mean no disrespect to Wheat Carlson, cause he maintains them same two rules now that he's leader of the Devil's Hole Gang. I might add that it's a shame the gang has dwindled down so much since Heyes and Curry decided to give up outlawing and I'm sure Wheat would be willing accept new recruits if any of your fellas are looking to find a new gang.

Moderator: Well that concludes the comments from the roasters, so if the two roastees would like to come up and address the group, now's the time.

Scribe: Room erupted in applause as Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes approached the podium.

Kid Curry: I ain't much of a talker so I'll just say I enjoyed this evening and I hold the same level of respect for all the speakers as they showed to me and Heyes tonight. Now if I could have my gun back?

Scribe: Gun returned to Curry by the Moderator

Hannibal Heyes: Kid and I want to thank all of you for coming and a special thanks to everyone brave enough to offer a speech. Those of you who spoke anything negative might want to slip out now as I see the Kid does have his gun again... On a more serious note, the adulation expressed this evening has been very humbling to us both. Kid and I have great respect for each and every one of you. Were it not for the fine examples set by Butch and Sundance, Kid and I might never have become outlaws, so we owe a debt of gratitude to the both of you and we wish you well in Bolivia. Wheat, Kyle, Preacher, the Kid and me are proud to have been a part of the greatest outlaw gang that ever existed, and the gang reached that status because of you and the others. Doc, it's an honor knowing you, a fine poker player and a loyal friend to that Erp fella. It's true, Kid and me have walked away from the outlaw life and are trying to earn an amnesty. We knew going in that it wouldn't be easy but we never dreamed how much the political ramifications play a part, and Wyoming changes governors more often than Kid changes his clothes so I guess we ain't gonna find a quick fix with this amnesty. It's true that in the mean time we're still wanted, still being chased by posses and bounty hunters, and still have ten thousand dollar rewards on our heads. But we know we have friends and safety sanctuaries among most of these gangs and independent outlaws. Heck, we even have a few safe havens among some law abiding citizens. So we're confident that one day we'll receive those amnesties, and when we do, every last one of you can count on a safe haven wherever it is that Kid and me end up. So again, thank you for tonight, and thank you for your loyal support.

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Historical records being what they were in the late 1800s, little is known of the fate of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. No records are known to exist indicating that an amnesty was ever granted for either of these two outlaws. But there are also no records known suggesting either Heyes or Curry ever served any time in the Wyoming Territorial Prison. Perhaps they did earn the long sought amnesties and assumed aliases such as Smith or Jones and lived the remainder of their lives in peaceful obscurity, or perhaps they joined Butch and the Sundance Kid in Bolivia. Their names have since faded into the past like a western sunset, and historians may never discover what became of Hanibal Heyes and Kid Curry.