"You both knew the consequences of being caught when you agreed to my conditions. There's nothing I can do for Curry, but I'm willing to keep the offer of amnesty on the table for you. I can't give you a timescale as to when I'll award it of course, but it is still a definite possibility for you."

"We were told a year and it's already been three!" Heyes took a deep breath that did nothing to calm him down before adding. "Well you've been real helpful Governor! Real helpful. Thanks for nothing." Heyes too angry to be polite snarled as he gave the man a searing glance . Lom Trevors stepped forward to lay a restraining hand his shoulder. He easily shrugged it off and before anything else could be said walked out through the heavy wooden door which shut with a loud bang behind him.

He stood breathing heavily on the almost deserted street with his mind spinning. The Governor had insisted on a late meeting and the gas lamps were already lit, melding with the light of the moon to cast strange shadows that seemed to torment Heyes as he fought down his rage at the injustice of it all.

When Trevors joined him a few minutes later, his gaze sympathetic, Heyes was in no mood to take his pity or his concern. "This isn't right, Lom and you know it. You're just not fighting hard enough. I'm going to contact a real friend who can help. I'll be in touch." Without waiting to hear Lom's excuses, he walked away without a look backwards, a plan already forming in his mind.

Heyes' trip to San Francisco was long and lonely. Even after two months, he still found himself turning to share something with his partner. Every time he did so, the reason for the empty space hit him hard.

During the time they'd been apart as teenagers, Heyes had known without any doubt that they would get back together and do great things. He hadn't even considered an alternative outcome even when their separation had stretched to over a year. He'd just known everything would be all right. He hadn't been at all surprised when he and Kid had crossed paths again in a smoky tavern and left for Devil's Hole together.

Now over ten years later, with his confidence dented by a long three years of hard struggle, old certainties were difficult to maintain. This left him slightly desperate and feeling very alone. But he wouldn't let the Kid down, he'd find a way to bring him home where he belonged.

It was dark when Heyes finally arrived at Soapy's impressive looking house. The man answered the door himself and looked behind Heyes. His face darkened slightly and he eyed Heyes in some concern. "The Kid in trouble again? This is getting to be a habit! You know I'm pretty much retired."

"Kid's in the worst kind of trouble and I need your help. Ain't nothing too big I'm gonna ask of you this time."

"Come on in, Heyes- I'm not promising anything but I'm willing to listen."

Heyes weary to the bone allowed himself to be ushered into the hall and hung up his hat and jacket. In the large extravagantly furnished front room, he sat gratefully on the surprisingly comfortable couch and took a gulp of the expensive brandy Soapy handed him, without really tasting it. He looked up as he said. "Kid's in Wyoming prison Soapy. Posse caught up with about seven months ago. I got hurt, which weren't easy, but Kid got eight years! Thought you might know a good lawyer who can get him released all legal like."

Soapy thought for a long moment and then turned to a bowl full of business cards sitting on the mahogany bookshelf behind him. He dug round for a few moments as Heyes watched him impatiently. He was about to interrupt the rummaging with an irritated humph when Saunders turned back with a broad smile.

"Aha, here it is. He's your best chance of success. Used him plenty before I retired and he always proved useful. He's not cheap, but he's one of the best. If there's any way of helping the Kid, he'll find it." Heyes looked down at the embossed card Soapy handed him.

Samuel L. Phillips
Attorney at Law
88 Commercial Street

Heyes knew that 'not cheap' where Soapy was concerned, usually meant outrageously expensive and said. "It's gonna take me a day or so to raise the cash." He'd try poker first, but if it came to it he'd not hesitate to blow a safe to get what he needed.

Soapy smiled. "I'll cover it, Heyes. You and the Kid are like family and at least this time you're not needing anything illegal. Now you look dead on your feet my boy, so come and eat something. I'll contact Sam in the morning."

XXX

"Your friend was very lucky to just get eight years."

Heyes stared at the man in angry disbelief as he spluttered in some agitation. "Whatcha mean? I don't see how eight years counts as lucky in anyone's book! There must be something you can do to get his guilty plea overturned. Say he weren't in his right mind, so didn't understand what he was committing to."

Heyes thought the man just wasn't trying, but at least the money for this stupid advice hadn't come from his pocket.

The man sighed, removed his glasses and met Heyes' angry gaze with a slight smile and some sympathy in his expression. " I could take the money and pretend we've got a chance, but Mr Saunders brings me a lot of business so it wouldn't feel right. When he approached me about your problem two days ago, I got his lawyer to send me the filing papers. They had him exactly where they wanted him. Your friend was facing the full twenty years no question! Eight years was far better than even I would have expected. That Simpkins fella did a real good job. I'm sorry but that's the truth of it."

Heyes swallowed his surge of anger and with gritted teeth said, "Well thank- you for your honesty," The man offered his hand and Heyes shook it reluctantly, thinking his trip here had been pointless.

Once out on the street, he unconsciously patted his jacket pocket and headed towards the nearest saloon in desperate need of a drink to calm down.

The man behind the bar, took him in and he looked suddenly uneasy. Heyes knew he must be giving off angry vibes and not wanting to draw too much attention, took a deep breath and forced a smile on his face. He asked for whiskey and nodded as the man waved a bottle at him. "You look like you need a serious drink."

Heyes nodded in agreement and had to stop himself asking for two glasses. With a heavy sigh he picked up the bottle and the single glass and found a quiet table out of the way of prying eyes, but with a good view of the street.

He poured himself a large shot of liquor and drank quickly, hardly tasting it, but savouring the burn. After taking a deep breath, he turned his attention to the two envelopes he'd carefully removed from his pocket as he sat. They were both addressed to Joshua Smith c/o Sheriff Trevors Porterville, Wyoming.

He stared at them for a few moments, taking in the unfamiliar writing with some trepidation. Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat and fighting the urge to take another drink straight out of the bottle, that'd wait until he knew exactly what he was facing. He carefully opened the top envelope.

Mr Smith,

Prisoner 83, known outside these walls as Jedidiah Curry is currently in the infirmary recovering from injuries sustained in a beating brought on by him saving the life of one of my guards. It is that action that prompted me to take the unusual step of writing to you. The perpetrators have been punished and he is expected to make a full recovery.

Heyes had known that the chances of the Kid staying out of trouble had been tiny. But nonetheless the stark words still left him feeling as if he'd been kicked in the stomach.

Therefore he will no doubt be able to write to you himself in due course, so long as he continues with his current level of decorum and good behaviour.

Warden A. Manley.

Pompous ass, thought Heyes uncharitably as he folded the letter back into its envelope and turned his attention to the second. As he unfolded it a sigh of relief escaped as he recognised Kid's careful printing.

Joshua.

You oughta have been a bit more careful with them letters as I think you left 'em in no doubt of who you were. But I'm real glad you ain't dead. Real glad.

The shakiness of the writing and the couple of spots that didn't look like ink gave Heyes some cause for concern. When the pen blotted at the start of the next sentence, Heyes could picture his partner struggling with what to write. He'd teased his partner often enough about how he looked when he was thinking, but the image his mind provided of the Kid's expression almost brought a smile to his face.

One of the guards told me the warden wrote you about what happened. I'm mostly recovered now. Despite what I did, Mr Manley still ain't real happy with me having your letters, but he's allowing it for now. I'm hoping he don't change his mind though, because...well I just hope he don't. I thought I better tell you that, 'cos I don't want you getting all twisty, if you stop hearing from me sudden like. I ain't allowed to write more than once a month, but so long as I ain't done nothin' they don't like, I can receive yours every Sunday. I'm surrounded by idiots and followin' rules ain't exactly my strong suit, but knowin' your letters are comin' is helping me stay outta trouble.

Heyes took another drink of whiskey then folded the letters carefully back into his pocket and picked up the whiskey. The walk back to Nob Hill left him plenty of time to fume. And by the time he arrived at Soapy's mansion he had wound himself up into a temper. He stomped into Soapy's house and almost slammed the door. The man himself was waiting for him in the expansive hall and raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing it didn't go well."

Heyes shrugged in some disgust. "He thinks Kid was lucky not to get longer. Sorry Soapy, I know you think different, but I ain't too sure he knows what he's doing. I'm gonna look in every legal book you got on your shelves and I bet I can do a better job of finding a way to get Kid out."

He threw his hat on the pegs by the door and hung his coat up with some force. Without waiting for a reply he simply stalked off to his room, where sitting in one of the chairs, he took a gulp of whiskey and re read the letters as if he might find some inspiration in them.

Long into the night he read every single one of the many law books Soapy had in his library, but was left thwarted and frustrated when he could find nothing of any use. There appeared to be no grounds for a pardon and the chance of amnesty had vanished when Kid pleaded guilty and ended up in prison.

Heyes threw the book he'd just finished in great disgust onto the heavy oak desk as he muttered. "The law surely is an ass." He wasn't sure where that phrase came from, but he was absolutely certain of the truth of it. As he sat staring into nothing, he was hit by a desperate urge to see his partner. He needed to confirm that Kid was recovering as well as both he and Manley claimed.