I'm good at reading signs. I can read them on faces as well as on the ground, it's why I play a fair game of poker. It's how I can tell if the guy I'm facin' across the table is gonna do somethin' stupid cos he losing. It sure comes in handy when I'm tryin' not to draw. Heyes might have me beat at his best, but sometimes he gets so tied up in being four steps ahead of everyone else that he forgets to mind his back or his front for that matter, so that's where I come in. Drawin' quick weren't so much of a problem when we was outlaws- lot less easy to explain away now we're tryin' for amnesty. Even Heyes gotta think a bit harder to account for why Thaddeus Jones- who's got more than a passin' resemblance to an outlaw named Kid Curry is as fast as he is.

We was in Gunnison tryin' to keep our heads down. I was still recoverin' from a touch of the grippe and we was both tryin' not to think too hard about all that gold we'd got stole from us.

Heyes was playin at a low stakes table and I was at the bar watching him, not in the mood to do much 'cept drink the rot gut that they was passing off as whiskey. I glanced at the man next to Heyes and saw that look on his face- the look a man gets when he's flat busted and about to do somethin' him and everyone else is gonna regret. Heyes was lookin' at his cards and hadn't seen it yet. I saw the moment the idiot made his choice. Not a gun I figured, a fist. I wasn't quite close enough to get there before he stood, tipping the table upwards as he did so.

Heyes moved quickly away but still got caught by his flying fist. With a snarl he started to dive on Heyes but everyone from that table and many from the surrounding games all decided to join in. Half of them were trying to stop the fightin', but the other half were more than happy to fling their own fists. Heyes managed to duck round the upturned table. I stepped over two men on the floor trying to beat each other one senseless and yanked Heyes the rest of the way out of danger.

We sat against the far wall and watched the chaos from a safe distance. Heyes was stroking the left side of his face and wincing. I squinted at him through the smoke and could already see a bruise forming round his eye. He was smiling and I wondered for a minute till I saw the fist full of notes he was clasping in his other hand. "Don't seem right losing my winnings just because someone can't accept they're a lousy poker player. It sure seemed a cryin' shame to let the rest of it get trampled."

I laughed, you could always count on Heyes to make the best of somethin. He looked at my hand. "Kid you're bleeding."

"I guess when I yanked ya out. I musta got caught on somethin'." I moved my hand to see it better and shrugged. "Don't look too deep."

Heyes with another quick glance nodded in agreement. "Yeah ain't no risk of bleeding to death." He stood then with a wicked chuckle as I did the same. "A coupla bruises and a cut ain't a high price to pay for more than doubling our money." I laughed at the expression of glee on his face before looking back out towards the centre of the room where the collection of fights were still going on and showed signs of doing some damage to the furniture.

I saw the bartender lean over and say somethin' to one of the girls who nodded and ran to the door. I knew it wouldn't be long before the law arrived. "I think it best we ain't here when the sheriff arrives. "

Heyes stuffing the money in his pocket agreed and we made a quick exit onto the quiet street.