Six months later...

Night was falling. The lamplighter was setting his torch to the streetlamps and the stores were bolting their doors for the night. Two dusty riders slowly walked their horses down the darkening main street.

Coming to a halt, Hannibal Heyes eased himself out of the saddle and landed on the ground with a tired grunt. After stretching a few kinks out of his back he stepped stiffly to the hitching rail and tied his sorrel's reins securely to it. Although equally as weary, Kid Curry dismounted a little quicker and tossed his reins to his partner to secure. He then proceeded to look furtively through the front window of the sheriff's office. As far as he could see the lawman was alone.

"Whatever he wants, it had better be good," he grumbled. "Or we've just ridden as fast as all get-out across two territories for nuthin'."

"The amnesty deal is a secret, Kid. Lom has to be careful what he says in a telegraph," placated Heyes.

Together they pushed open the pale green door.

Sheriff Lom Trevors looked up from a newspaper. "You two sure took your time. I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"So? Did we get it?" asked Curry. "Did we get the amnesty?"

"What? No! Heck, it ain't been a year yet, Kid."

"So, what's so all-fired important that we had to get here so fast?"

"That telegraph did sound kinda urgent, Lom," agreed Heyes. "Enough to get the Kid here all stirred up, anyways."

Shaking his head at the gunman's continued impatience when it came to the amnesty, Lom Trevors stood and neatly folded his newspaper. To the accompanying click of stiff knees he crouched down behind his desk and took hold of the dial of a small safe. Frowning to himself he glanced over his shoulder toward the master safe-cracker standing less than six feet away.

"Heyes, I need ya to face thata way." He pointed to the opposite wall. "Last thing I want is you watching me open my safe. That goes for you too, Kid."

Curry turned around, but obstinately Heyes stayed where he was. "You do know I don't need to see the combination to open that safe you got back there."

"Just turn around, will ya?" growled the sheriff.

With a derisive snort and a shake of his head Heyes complied.

"Here." Lom Trevors stood up and waved a fat brown envelope in their direction. "I don't know what you two have been up to, but this was wired direct to the bank here in Porterville. Mister Porter brought it over personally, said I should keep it here in my office seein' as you fellas come and go at all times of the day and night."

Heyes almost snatched the envelope from Lom and tore it open. A broad smile crept across his face as he pulled out a wad of banknotes. A small yellow piece of paper fluttered to the ground almost landing on the Kid's boot, but Heyes was too busy counting the cash to notice.

Curry picked it up. It was a telegraph.

To Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones, Sheriff's Office, Porterville, Wyoming. T.F. Ayres very grateful. Wired your share of reward to Porterville. Maybe you can make an honest woman out of Julia now, Mister Smith. Detective Kevin Finney, Scotland Yard, London, England.

Heyes looked up briefly and saw the piece of paper in Curry's hand. "From Finney?"

"Yep. Looks like he got some kinda promotion. Signed himself 'Detective'."

"I didn't think I'd see any of this money, Kid. Did you?"

"I wasn't convinced he'd even hand those stones over. How much we got?" Curry re-folded the telegraph and slipped it into his shirt pocket.

"I make it two thousand five hundred apiece. Here's your share."

Kid Curry's grin almost matched his partner's as he took the carefully counted greenbacks from Heyes. "I don't know what I'm lookin' forward to most: a bath, a comfy bed, or a big juicy steak washed down with some good corn whiskey."

The sheriff regarded the supposedly reformed outlaws with some suspicion. "That's a lot of money. What's it for boys?"

Shoving his bankroll deep into his pants pocket Heyes turned to the lawman with his most disarming smile.

"Nothing for you to worry about, Lom. It's our share of a reward for being honest forthright citizens. How's that for two crooks! Say, why don't you meet us over at the saloon and we'll tell you the whole story. C'mon, Kid, let's go put up our horses and get us a room and that bath you're hankerin' for. See ya later, Lom."

It appeared Heyes could not stop smiling as, side by side, they led their exhausted horses down the street to the livery stable. "Looks like I collected my pay for that archy-ology job after all," he said, cheerily.

Curry nodded thoughtfully. "I guess it does. But Heyes, I got a question."

Hannibal Heyes had not had this much cash in his pocket for quite some time so he was a little pre-occupied with thoughts of what he was going to do with it.

"Mmmm, what's that?"

"Who's Julia?"