Wheat Carlson (absent from Wrong Train to Brimstone)
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That gold shipment was just too big to ignore and I planned out just how we was gonna get our hands on it using the kind of detail that Heyes would have been proud of. This was gonna be a piece of cake; that is until just after super the night before we was to go. I was walking up the steps of the leader's cabin and damn if my foot didn't go right through one of them steps and busted my ankle.
Kyle helped me hop inside the cabin and he was able to get my boot off before my foot swelled up so bad we wouldda had to cut it off, and with the price of boots nowadays, I ain't losing a good pair of boots just because of a few busted bones. We sent Henry Jenkins for the doctor and he got me all bandaged up, but I couldn't get a sock over them bandages, much less my boot.
So we hadda do some quick change of plans being as I couldn't climb into a saddle. Now, I don't use Heyes as an example of leadership as I have my own style, and to tell you the truth, I think my way of leading the gang is a whole lot smarter than the way Heyes did it. We had picked the spot weeks ago where we was gonna stop that train, and even went there twice just to practice, so I knew the boys all knew just what they was supposed to do. So when I had to bow out, I put Henry Maxwell Jenkins in charge as the acting leader.
Henrry wasn't the flamboyant type. In fact, he always kept a low profile and he'd yet to earn a wanted poster. So I figured with me not being there, and somebody nobody ever heard of in charge, maybe no one would realize it was the Devil's Hole gang stopping that train. The plan was to tear up the tracks to bring the train to a halt, and then Kyle was gonna blow that safe wide open. Then all that the boys would hafta do is pick up all them gold bars and bring em back to the Hole.
That next evening, I sat out on the porch waiting for the boys to return. I had bought a case of whiskey the week before, figuring we'd be having a high time celebrating our new found wealth. But when I saw the boys come straggling in, I knew right off something had turned sour. Lobo and Hognose were the first two to ride in. Then I saw Kyle leading two horses with empty saddles and I knew right off who them horses belonged to.
Kyle rode up to the cabin and climbed down off his horse. With his chin nearly touching his chest, he walked up and stopped at the foot of the steps.
"The train was a trap, Wheat, and Jenkins and Murdoch are dead."
"Where are the bodies?" Wheat asked.
"On the train. There wouldda been a lot more of us dead if it weren't for the warning we got."
"What kind of warning?"
"Well, right as we had started riding down toward the train, we heard shots fired about a half a mile to the west. Damn if it were Heyes and the Kid warning us off. Just about then the door of one of the box cars opened up and we found ourselves facing a Gatling Gun, rounds just flying everywhere. The whole passenger car was shooting at us too. We turned on a dime and retreated but Jenkins and Murdoch weren't so lucky.
"Kid and Heyes come back with you?"
Kyle shook his hear. They waved and then rode off, just disappeared.
"You sure it was Heyes and The Kid?"
"I'm sure. If it weren't for them, we might all have been riddled with bullets."
I gave some thought to what Kyle had just told me, but I couldn't come up with no reason in hell why Heyes and The Kid wouldda been in that spot at just the right time, or how they wouldda known that train was a trap. But I knew by just watching the boys ride into camp, and seeing the look on Kyle's face, that them boys all owed their lives to Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry.
"Tell the boys to come by and take some of this whiskey back to the bunkhouse. It might help em settle their nerves."
Kyle nodded at me, then dragged himself across the yard to the bunkhouse.
I opened a bottle and took a hefty swig, still wondering what had put Heyes and The Kid right at that spot at just the right moment. I think I'll be pondering that for quite some time.
And Jenkins was doing my job so he was where I wouldda been, and now he's dead, and here I am sitting in the safety of the hideout, drinking whiskey, and pondering the mysteries of life.
I gave a glance up toward the night sky and gave the heavens a nod to acknowledge the gang's two fallen members, then took another swig of whiskey and saw the boys starting to migrate over from the bunkhouse. We'd spend the night drinking and remembering the good ole days and likely do a group toast to Jenkins and Murdoch.
And one to Heyes and The Kid, too.