Holiday In A Small Town

by moonshadowASJ

When Heyes stops in a small town to wait for Kid, he finds himself the victim of a case of mistaken identity. When the residents refuse to believe him, Heyes plays along. Things go fine until Curry arrives and their troubles start to multiply. This story was originally a Virtual Season episode for 2008/09.

2. Chapter 2

" HOLIDAY IN A SMALL TOWN "

PART TWO

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Miguel nodded to Roy, who had been hiding in the shadows off to Curry's right. Jumping out of the way of a rolling barrel, he tossed the still-smoking gun next to the fallen man. He turned as people began to gather.

"What happened?"

"We heard gunshots – who was doin' the shootin'?"

"Why that's Wyatt! What's he doin' on the ground?"

Roy spoke up quickly. "I saw it all - it happened so fast I never got the chance to run for nobody! Wyatt Earp, he tried to gun down that man over there," Roy pointed to Miguel, "in cold blood! Why, he wasn't doin' nothin' wrong, jus' mindin' his own business, when Wyatt called him out! Told him iffen he didn't draw, he'd drop him right where he stood! I ain't never seen anyone so mad - he skairt me plumb near half to death! Mig- I mean that stranger, he had to kill Wyatt - tweren't nothin' else he could do! Why, he'd a been deader'n a doornail if - "

"Thank you very much, Señor," Miguel interrupted Roy's verbose testimonial with a quelling look at the man, "but I think it would be best if we waited for the sheriff, no?"

After a quick nod, Roy clamped his mouth shut and melted into the crowd. As the excited townspeople began to talk among themselves he slunk off inside the hotel unnoticed.

Brody watched from his vantage point across the street. Where was that confounded excuse for a lawman? They were on a tight enough schedule as it was and didn't need any more delays!

As if on cue, an out-of-breath Sheriff Tate shoved his way through the milling throng of people and stood face to face with the man holding the smoking gun. "Someone said you shot Wyatt Earp – that you killed him. Is that true, Miguel? Did you? What happened?" The lawman eyed the man with suspicion.

"Si, it is sad, but verdad...it is true, sheriff. As all these people here will tell you," he waved a hand at the crowd, "I was only defending myself. Earp, he drew on me first. Yo no se..." Miguel shrugged eloquently, "Maybe the señor was having a bad morning; perhaps he got up on the wrong side of the bed or something, who knows? Until he called me out, I had any reason to talk to him. I think it is very strange that he picked me."

The lawman frowned. "So what you're tellin' me is that you never said or did anything to provoke Wyatt? That he just took a dislike to you for no good reason at all?"

"Si, Sheriff, I did say 'Buenos dias' to the man and that is when he told me to draw! I did not even know who he was until just now. If I had known it was the famous Señor Wyatt Earp picking a gunfight with me, I would never have been so loco as to put my hand near my gun! I still am not sure why I am here and Señor Earp is," Miguel gave a sideways jerk of his head towards the motionless body, "lying dead over there. It is muy mal - very bad!" With an expression of sorrow upon his face, he shook his head

The sheriff, along with every other man present, removed his hat and bowed his head respectfully.

The lawman took a moment to consider what he had learned in the short time he'd known Wyatt. He'd grown to appreciate the quiet air of assurance the friendly stranger had displayed from the first moment he'd ridden into town. The way he'd settled that gunfight yesterday, peaceably, without one single shot being fired. And how he'd stepped forward to back up his friend, the Doc.

Now that took real guts and nerves of steel! It was also a sign of the trust and loyalty the two men shared. It was a real shame he'd had to meet his end this way here in the small town of Lone Butte. It would give the town a bad name. Tate rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "I don't suppose any of you have seen Doc Holliday, have you?"

The townspeople shook their heads as everyone looked around.

"I sure don't relish tellin' Doc the bad news." Tate sighed. "Anybody wanna be sheriff for awhile?"

"Sheriff! Hey, Sheriff Tate! Wyatt's not dead, least not yet he ain't!"

The lawman shoved people aside in his haste to confirm the man's words. As he knelt down beside the wounded man, he missed the brief flash of angry disappointment that marred Miguel's features.

Taking advantage of their preoccupation with Earp, Miguel followed Roy's example and stalked off with Andy trailing behind him. Making themselves scarce, they headed for the hotel.

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Miguel rapped on the door of room # 7. The two men were immediately granted entrance. The door shut just as quickly behind them. The five occupants of the room stopped what they were doing to look up when Miguel stormed into the room, threw his gun belt onto the bed and joined Ed at the window. He began to speak rapidly in Spanish and gesture with his hands at the scene below.

Dolly crossed the room to lay a comforting hand on his arm, "It's okay, Miguel, we saw it all, you -"

Miguel jerked away in anger.

Another knock on the door interrupted them. Dolly moved away to unlock the door and admit an equally furious Brody.

"Damn Earp, or whoever the hell he is - he's not dead!" he snarled bitterly. "They're not Doc Holliday or Wyatt Earp; I'm certain of that. I've seen both Earp and Holliday. So just what are these to up to? I don't like that gunslinger being here. He's too fast on the draw and he gets along too well with the sheriff. He and his friend could ruin our plans. You know what that means?

"It means we'll have to speed things up even more; we'll have to get this job done as soon as possible. We'll need to leave Lone Butte before the sheriff starts asking questions I can't answer. The whole plan could go up in smoke and we're all out $100,000.00!" Brody strode across the room and stared out the window. "I swear," he growled, "if he messes this up for me, I'll shoot that man so full of holes he'll leak like a sieve!

The gang leader turned to face the group. "We have another problem besides Earp. It's that other fella, the one callin' himself 'Doc'. Somehow the two of 'em have some kinda scam goin' on. I'm not sure what it is, but when he finds out what happened, I'm sure he's gonna have a few questions of his own an' he'll want answers, too.

"He's gonna be pokin' his nose around in places we don't want him to. If he gets too curious, we'll just have to take care of him as well." Brody crossed back to the door. "Except for Miguel, the rest of us have kept a real low profile, so nobody should be connecting us to what happened out there or lookin' for us. How's it look, Ed?"

"Well, they're all still standin' around starin' at him," the man standing watch at the window reported. "Wait a minute...looks like the doc jus' arrived."

"Holliday?" Brody asked quickly.

"Nope, jus' ol' Doc Mason; don't see Holliday around anywhere."

"Good. Okay - Roy, Andy, Chuck, Miguel - you four get to work and remember, we've got to get into the bank by Friday night so fireworks show will cover the explosion. We've only got one chance, so we can't mess up! Those miners will be showin' up bright 'n early Saturday mornin' to get their pay and I aim on us bein' long gone by then.

"Dolly, you keep on bringing us information, 'specially on how the 'patient' is doin'. Do what you do best; use that beautiful body of yours to full advantage. Look real sad, shed a few tears, weep, throw yourself at his friend - I don't care - do whatever it takes to keep you by their side. Besides that, your job is gettin' food up here without attractin' any undue attention - and don't forget to bring us somethin' to drink!"

Brody crossed to stand behind Dolly and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, "You, my dear, have the best cover of all." He lowered his head to whisper in Dolly's ear, "No one would ever suspect a beautiful lady such as you of being devious, conniving, greedy, selfish and -"

"Okay, Brody, that's enough! I think I know what I am!" Dolly protested angrily as his brutal honesty hit a raw nerve. Twisting out of his arms, she walked a few paces away, distancing herself. She was only a part of the plan as long as she fulfilled her part of the bargain; if she messed up, they'd drop her like a hot potato. Although Brody had promised he'd take her with them and give her a share of the take, she only trusted the leader as far as she could throw him, and that wasn't very far!

"Keep close to those two," Brody repeated. "I need to know if they have any clue what we're up to!" He gave her a shove in the direction of the door and signaled for quiet. Opening the door a crack, he checked the hallway. Once Dolly had exited, he checked the hall one last time before locking the door and pocketing the key. He gave the men the sign to start working.

After watching them in silence for a few moments, Brody shed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and picked up a hammer and blanket and then joined his gang, hoping to get the job done with no further interruptions, or complications.

The muffled sounds of wood splintering and metal against metal resumed as the outlaws got back to ripping up the floorboards, tearing them out of the room that was directly above the bank below.

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Dolly checked herself in the mirror one last time. She reached up to tuck in a few loose tendrils and straightened her bodice and expelled a deep sigh. She'd better start earning her keep and see how 'Wyatt' was doing; Brody would be expecting a full report as soon as possible.

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As the sheriff pressed a bandana on Wyatt's bleeding wound, he was relieved to hear a familiar voice near his shoulder.

"Why don't you move on over and let me do my job, Sheriff, so you can go and do yours?"

The lawman was only too happy to oblige and watched as Doc Mason pulled up the blood-stained shirt and probed the wound with his fingers. "Uh, huh." Everyone waited in silence. "Sheriff, before you go, help me turn him over; I need to see his back. Hmm," the doc muttered and checked the unconscious man's eyes. The physician looked up, a grim smile on his face as his eyes met those of the lawman.

"He's one lucky man, to even be alive; let's get him on over to my office." Doc Mason didn't even have to ask for help. There were more volunteers than there was body, so the others lined up behind those who carried the wounded man, forming a strange- looking procession as they escorted their fallen hero all the way down the street and into the physician's office.

It was at this point that Heyes came riding back into town. He was forced to wait until the townspeople had passed before he could continue on his way back to the livery stable. Earlier that morning he'd gone downstairs in search of a cup of coffee only to find himself being shanghaied and dragged out to Harvey Baker's farm to see the man's prized gun collection. The beanpole had caught him off guard and Heyes had been unable to find a suitable excuse to extricate himself.

"Wonder what's going on? Looks like a parade of some sort," Heyes said as he eyed the weaving line doubtfully. He wasn't left to wonder long as one of the men broke away from the others and rushed over to him.

"Oh, Doc, we're so glad you're back!" the agitated man greeted him. "Now, don't get all riled up an' don't ya worry none, Doc Mason says Wyatt will be jus' fine. I know we're s'posed to be real careful of your 'condition' an' all, but someone's got to tell ya. The Doc's over in his office right now workin' on him!"

"Someone's got to tell me what? What's wrong with the Ki- with Wy- aw, hell! What's wrong with my friend?"

"Take it easy now, jus' calm down, Doc," the man held up a placating hand. "Doc Mason sure don't need another patient on top of the one he's already got. He's pretty sure he can get the bleedin' stopped -"

"Bleeding? What bleeding?"

"Why, from the bullet. Did I forget to mention that? Wyatt got shot an' Doc Mason says he won't know if the barrels did any permanent damage until he wakes up."

"Barrels? What barrels?"

"The barrels that fell on Wyatt when he got shot."

Heyes didn't wait to hear any more. He threw the reins at the man and hurried across the street. When the townspeople saw who it was, they made room for him to squeeze his way inside the small office.

Heyes went straight over to the table where Curry was laying, eyes closed and motionless, barely looking like he was breathing. After staring down at the blood-stained shirt and seeing the bruises already beginning to turn colors, he raised troubled eyes to look into the doctor's face.

"Don't be fooled by the amount of blood you see," the physician assured him, "it looks worse than it is. As I told the sheriff earlier, he's a lucky man; a very lucky man indeed. The bullet went clean through, didn't hit any bone and managed to miss all his vital organs - although if it had gone an inch or two in any direction, you'd be visiting him at a different kind of establishment down at the end of the street. I think I can have him patched up in no time. We'll have to wait and see whether or not he has any injuries to his head."

"Head injuries?" Heyes echoed. "From being shot in the shoulder?"

"Well, from what I understand, when your friend was shot, he fell backwards into some empty nail barrels and knocked them down. There was a lot of confusion and I can't get a straight story as to whether they rolled on him or not since the only witnesses who claim to have actually seen it happen have disappeared. We just have to be patient and see how he feels when he wakes up.

"It was fortunate for Wyatt that the barrels were empty; no bones were broken, just some bruising, but I don't see any bruises on his face. He'll look worse than he feels, although I'm pretty sure he'll disagree with me, at first. Right now, my job is to stop that bleeding, get that wound cleaned and stitch it up. Overall, I think he's going to be fine You're welcome to stay, Doc; I could use some help in case he comes to."

"I'll stay right here; thanks Doc."

The physician smiled, "You know, Doc, it could be a mite confusing, each of us calling the other one, 'Doc'."

Heyes returned the smile. "It could at that. Why don't you call me Joshua instead?"

"Sounds like a plan, Joshua. Now, let's get started so your friend can work on getting better..."

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Filled with frustration, Dolly headed back to her room. She needed some time alone to think. Brody wanted information and she had none to supply. Not much had changed since last night when Doc Mason had chased her out of his office, admonishing her that the invalid needed his rest. How on earth was she supposed to get any information when they wouldn't let her near Jones?

It was next to impossible to even try and talk with that Smith fella, too. He hadn't left his friend's side since the accident, taking his meals in the office and sleeping on a cot the doctor had provided, right next to Jones. While Smith had thanked her politely for her interest, she could tell he was preoccupied with his own concern over his friend.

She finally plucked up enough courage and went to share her scant information with Brody. Still angry with the way she had bungled her earlier assignment, he was even more furious with her lack of details and demanded more, reminding her that unless she brought them something useful she'd be left behind.

Dolly sighed softly as she stood at her window and watched the small town go about its business, never suspecting it was about to be robbed. Was it all really worth killing people over? "It's only money," she reasoned. "Okay, so it's a lot of money, more than I've ever seen at one time in my whole life." But was it worth enough to take someone's life just to get it?

She pondered over that for a while. She hadn't pulled the trigger of the gun that shot Jones. She wasn't actually doing the work to break into the bank so it could be robbed. She wasn't personally stealing from the people here in Lone Butte; she was just 'helping' the others to do it. There was a difference, she consoled herself with that thought.

Then she thought about the two men, two complete strangers albeit handsome ones at that, who unknowingly stood in their way. Brody would have no compunction about sending either, or both, men to an early grave, as evidenced by what he'd ordered be done to Jones. And that would be a real shame; wasting two such fine lookin' men like that...

Well, whatever else, Brody still needed her for one more very important part of his plan and they both knew that without her, it wouldn't work. She wasn't stupid. She knew she'd be kept around at least until then and, if she played her cards right, they'd have to take her with them. Pulling on her shawl, Dolly made her way across the street to go up to room # 7, a basket filled with food and drinks on her arm.

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Heyes had just drifted off into an uneasy doze, when something caused him to jerk wide awake. Looking over at the bed, he saw a pair of drowsy blue eyes doing their best to focus on him.

"What's...oh, ow...my shoulder!" Curry groaned. "An' my head!" he reached up to feel the strip of cloth that encircled his forehead and winced. "What happened?"

"Hey, yourself, Kid." Catching Curry's expression, Heyes added, "It's okay, we're alone; Doc Mason's asleep. How do you feel?"

"Like a herd of buffalo stampeded over me! Did they?"

Heyes chuckled, "Well, you may feel like they did, but they were real smart buffalo - disguised themselves as barrels. You knocked them over when you were shot."

"I was shot?"

"That's the rumor, partner."

"Where? When?" Despite the pain, Curry tried to raise up.

"In your shoulder," Heyes answered. He put a restraining hand on his friend's arm and eased the agitated man back down.

Curry shot Heyes an annoyed look. "I know where - I meant where - you know as in where was I?"

"Outside the hotel, on the boardwalk."

"Who shot me?" The sandy-haired outlaw looked at his partner with genuine confusion. "And why? How long have I been out?"

"Well, let's see; it happened yesterday, about mid-morning," Heyes yawned deeply and then took out his pocket watch to hold up to the lamp. "It's four o'clock in the morning right now, so you've been asleep for...almost 18 hours, my friend." He looked into Curry's face. "As for the who and why, don't you remember what happened?"

"I - I'm not sure..." Curry closed his eyes, but a few minutes later he opened them and shrugged, "Nothing; why can't I remember?"

"I was hoping you'd be able to supply some of the missing answers."

His face clouded over and frustration roughened the outlaw's voice, "You'd think a fella would remember somethin' as important as bein' shot, right?"

"It's okay, Kid, take it easy; Doc Mason said you might not, at first, that maybe one of those barrels hit you on the head a bit too hard and your memory might be a little off. It can all come back, maybe right away, but maybe it won't. Either way, don't worry. The doc says you're lucky, the bullet went straight through and it won't be long until you're up and causing trouble again!" Heyes teased. When there was no answering smile, he perched on the side of Curry's bed and reached out to touch his friend on the arm. "Hey...?"

"Yeah, I'm real lucky, alright!" Curry snapped sarcastically. After a slight hesitation he turned to stare into his partner's face; there was a troubled look on his own. "Heyes, why would someone wanna shoot me?"

"You mean other than the obvious reason that you're worth $10,000 - dead or alive?" Heyes commented wryly before he turned serious, "I'm not sure; I don't know, Kid. Maybe you were in the wrong place at the wrong time or maybe someone took offense because you didn't shave?" he shrugged. "I don't have all the pieces to the puzzle, yet, but I'm working on it. You'll be the first to know. Right now, I think the best thing is for you to quit worrying and see if you can get some rest. Tomorrow I'll fill you in on whatever I can find out, okay?"

"Don't guess I have much choice," Curry grumbled and shrugged. Glimpsing the weary look on Heyes' face he added, "Go on, you need the rest more'n I do; we can talk about it in the mornin'." He yawned convincingly and let his eyes drift shut.

Heyes stared at Curry for a few moments. Satisfied that the other man had fallen back to sleep, he returned to his cot.

Kid forced himself to lay quietly until he heard the even breathing of his partner. Impatient, Curry risked a peek at the slumbering man. "Heyes?" he called out softly, but the man never stirred. Only then did Curry fully open his eyes again to lay awake and think. And worry. It bothered him more than he had let on that he couldn't remember things that had only happened a day ago. Someone had shot him - tried to kill him - and he didn't have a single clue as to who or why.

The wounded outlaw shook his head and had to bite down on his lower lip to avoid groaning out loud. Okay, he decided, that's something I'm not going to do again for a while! Rubbing his throbbing temple, he wished the pain would at least ease up some. Despite his efforts to remain awake, his eyelids drifted shut and he, too, fell into a much needed slumber.

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Early the next morning, while Curry was still dozing, Heyes ventured outside to see what he could rustle up for breakfast and ran straight into Sheriff Tate.

"G'mornin', Doc - I mean, Joshua. How's Wyatt - I mean, Thaddeus, doin' today?" the lawman inquired solicitously.

"Well, he's still pretty sore, but Doc Mason says there's no sign of fever or infection. He doesn't remember what happened at all; says he doesn't know who'd want to shoot him or why. I stalled him a bit, hoping he'd at least come up with something, but so far, he's really frustrated and I can't say as I blame him."

"Me neither; not knowin' somethin' like that can be pretty bothersome. Well, mebbe he'll remember something later. I'm glad we run into each other like this, though. I wanted to talk with you alone first and then I need to speak with Thaddeus, that is, if you think he's up to it?"

"This have something to do with the shooting?"

The lawman nodded, "I'd like you to come on over to my office, if you don't mind." Tate turned and led the way to the jail. Once inside he reached into his bottom desk drawer, removed a gun and handed it to Heyes. "I wanted to return Wy- I mean, Thaddeus' Colt; it's only been fired once, so that backs up the story Miguel gave me that morning."

Heyes was still looking at the weapon he held in his hand. "Where'd you get this, Sheriff?"

The lawman gave him a funny look. "It's Wyatt's. That's the gun we found next to him after he shot at Miguel. Why, somethin' wrong?"

Heyes frowned. Something was very wrong.He looked up. "Can I have his holster, too, Sheriff?"

"He wasn't wearin' none," the lawman replied. "All we found was the gun, with one bullet fired, jus' like I said. Did you check up in your room? Maybe he didn't feel like wearin' it that mornin'; you know, sometimes all a man needs is his gun."

"That's a good idea, Sheriff; think I'll head up there right now and see if you're right."

"Sorry it took so long to get it back to you," Tate apologized, "but I had to look it over first. You understand that I had to check it out to make sure things were on the up an' up, right? You'll make sure Thaddeus gets it back, won't you?"

"Sure will, Sheriff," Heyes nodded. "Say, could you wait a bit before going over to see Thaddeus? I've got a few things I need to take care of and I'd like to be around when you talk to him; I sure would appreciate it."

"There's no hurry. I'll see you over at the Doc's sometime after lunch. I'm sure glad to hear your friend's gonna be alright."

"Me too, Sheriff; see you later." Heyes tucked the gun under his arm and turned to leave.

"Oh, Mr. Smith," Tate called out.

His hand on the doorknob, Heyes turned back. "Yes?"

"You as good as your friend with a gun? I mean, as good as they claim?"

Heyes looked down at the gun he held in his hand. "Well, I'm not that good, but I like to think that whoever I'm up against is a little worse," he grinned and continued on his way.

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Heyes headed straight up to room #3 and inserted the key into the lock. His hand on the knob, he hesitated when he heard strange noises coming from down the hall. His curiosity piqued, he stepped towards the room and looked at the door. Room #7 - again. Dolly's room.

He cocked his head to the left, his right ear towards the door and stood still to listen.

"Why Mr. Smith, how nice of you to come callin' on me; I do hope this means that Mr. Jones is feeling better?" an abnormally loud voice asked from behind him.

Startled, Heyes pivoted about and confronted Dolly. He nodded as he removed his hat. "He's awake, but in pretty bad shape, I'm sorry to say. Seems he can't recall much about the shooting. Poor man; doesn't remember a thing." He shook his head sadly.

"Well, in that case, maybe he would enjoy some company this afternoon?" she prattled on, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the narrow hallway.

Heyes gave her a dimpled smile. "I think he'd enjoy that, Dolly. The doc will be seeing him this morning and the sheriff is paying a call this afternoon, so maybe it'd be best if you waited until after he's finished with Thaddeus."

"Sheriff Tate is going to see Mr. Jones? Whatever for?" she frowned, "Surely he doesn't blame him for what happened, does he?" Dolly inquired in a voice so loud it set Heyes to thinking.

"Uh no, not at all," the outlaw was quick to explain, "The sheriff just wants to make sure Thaddeus is okay. He kinda feels responsible for what happened, you know, it being his town and all. Since my friend doesn't remember any of the details, I'm afraid there won't be much for them to talk about."

Dolly bit down on her bottom lip. "Do you think he'll remember me? I mean, if he can't remember getting shot or who shot him...?"

"Well, I can't say for sure, ma'am, but if the man's going to do any remembering, you'd be at the top of his list for sure!" Heyes favored her with a reassuring smile.

Dolly found herself blushing at the dark-haired man's complimentary words, something she didn't do very often. "That's very kind of you, Joshua," she said softly, "I'll come by an' see you two later this afternoon."

Heyes nodded and then reached out a hand towards the basket. "Allow me to help you inside with that; it looks kind of heavy."

"Oh no, really it's not!" Dolly protested loudly and quickly stepped back out of reach, clutching the basket against her protectively, "I can manage by myself, but thank you anyway," the woman softened her rebuff with a dazzling smile.

Although her actions had aroused his curiosity even more, Heyes smiled in return, put his hat back on his head and turned towards his own room.

Dolly waited until the man had disappeared inside his room. When she heard the door shut with a click, she inserted her key into the lock of room #7 and ducked quickly inside. Eyes closed, she stood with her back pressed against the door. When she opened them and looked up, she found herself facing six unsmiling men with their guns drawn and pointed straight at her.

Dolly gulped and raised a nervous hand to her throat. "It's alright, he's gone. You heard what he said?" She breathed a silent sigh of relief as they all holstered their weapons and returned to their work, with the exception of Brody.

"Well, we sure didn't have any trouble hearin' you. I had to stand by the door to hear Smith, but if what he's sayin' about Jones is true, then we can all breathe a little easier. What was he doin' outside our room anyway? Maybe he heard something?"

"I don't think so."

"He heard us – he knows!" Brody was insistent.

"No he doesn't," Dolly argued just as vehemently. "Anyway, what would it mean if he did?"

Brody glowered at her. "It would mean that he just became a complication; a complication we can't afford to have right now. If I find out he's lying..." Brody broke off.

"Ya mean ya'd kill him?"

"Listen to me, woman! There's $100,000 sitting right below us in that bank and if he, or anyone else, comes between it and us – what's more important, the money or the man?"

"If I thought he'd really heard somethin', I'd pick up a gun an' use it on him myself," Dolly snapped.

"Uh, huh!" Brody snorted.

"Well, I think he's tellin' the truth," Dolly reiterated, "Joshua couldn't have heard anything - there wasn't time enough for him to. His mind is on takin' care of his friend, so he won't be botherin' us none. We'll have a better idea after I visit Jones this afternoon. And don't worry, I'll be sure to keep him entertained long enough to find out what we need to know."

"You'd better!" Brody warned as he removed the basket from Dolly's arms and placed it upon the bed. He gave her an assessing look as his mind processed the fact that she had called the man 'Joshua' and not 'Smith.' She'd referred to the other one as Jones, though, he recalled thoughtfully. He'd have to pay more attention when she talked about the two men from now on. Right now, they had other fish to fry.

"Okay boys, after what just happened, we keep someone on watch at the door at all times. We'll have to keep the door cracked to see who's comin' and goin'. Wolf, you're first up. Roy, Andy - you two get first break with me; come and get some of this food Dolly brought. When we're done, us three will spell Miguel, Ed an' Wolf."

Brody bit down hungrily into a sandwich. Poking around in the basket again, he bypassed the fried chicken and potato salad and withdrew a jug of liquid. He held it up for inspection. "Lemonade? Damn, I'll sure be glad when this job is over and I can have a real drink!"

He took a swig and swallowed with a grimace. He rummaged around until he found a piece of pie. His favorite, cherry. Brody brought it up to his mouth and as his teeth sank into it, he looked up to find Dolly watching him. He raised the dessert in a mock salute to the woman. Besides looking mighty fetching, the woman could sure bake. Maybe she'd be worth keeping around, if only for her cooking abilities? He polished off the pie and wiped his hands on his pants. After staring into the woman's watchful, knowing eyes one more time, Brody figured that was another thing he'd have to think on for a mite longer.

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Heyes entered their hotel room and the first thing he saw was the Kid's gun belt still hanging on the bedpost, right where he'd left it two short mornings ago. Inside the holster was his Colt .45. He lifted the belt from its resting place, grabbed Curry's saddlebag and stuffed everything inside, including the mystery gun. Tying the bag closed, Heyes slung it over his shoulder and quietly let himself out of the room. Standing in the silent hallway, he cocked his head to listen intently, heard nothing, and made his way down the stairs and over to the doc's office.

He found Curry sleeping and set the saddlebag on the table. He stepped up to feel the patient's forehead and grinned as Curry's hand snaked out from under the blanket to grab his wrist.

"Sorry to bother you, Kid; I thought you were asleep."

Opening his eyes, Curry fixed Heyes with a knowing look, "You're not sorry; you found out something an' you wanna have someone to talk about it to," he answered with a smug but weary smile. "I thought you were gonna go find something for us to eat," he looked pointedly at the bag Heyes had laid down. "I sure hope breakfast isn't in there!" he quipped and then looked back at his friend. His voice held a mixture of hopefulness and resignation at the same time, "Heyes, you did remember why you went out there in the first place, didn't you?"

Heyes tugged his wrist free and looked down at the suddenly very interesting wooden floor. "Well, I was on my way over to the diner, when I ran into the sheriff - "

"Aw, Heyes! Don't tell me, you two got to talkin' an' you forgot all about my breakfast, right?" Curry did his best to sound threatening from a reclining position, "That's gratitude for you! I'm layin' here, all shot up, unable to fend for myself an you're - "

"I'm out trying to find out who tried to kill you and why," Heyes finished his partner's sentence calmly.

"Before breakfast?" Curry looked affronted, "Heyes, we've been down this road before. You know I think better on a full stomach an'- "

Heyes shot Kid a look, "Well, in this case, that might not be a bad idea. I'm going to need you to do a lot of thinking, especially in the remembering department, so it's a good thing I asked one of the ladies to bring you something to tide you over until dinnertime; it should be here soon. In the meantime, I want you to look at something." Heyes brought the saddlebag over to the bed and sat down on the bed next to his partner. "Open it and take out what's on top," he instructed.

Untying the leather strip and lifting the flap, Curry reached in and pulled out a gun. He turned it over in his hand and gave the weapon a quick spin on his trigger finger, then looked up.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Does it mean anything to you?"

"This gun?" Curry wrinkled his brow, "No, should it?"

Heyes didn't comment. Instead, he reached into the saddlebag and withdrew a gun belt and laid it beside his partner. "What about these?" he kept a close watch on the other man's face.

"Of course I recognize 'em," Curry snapped in annoyance. "This is MY gun belt an' this," he pulled the gun free, "is MY gun in MY holster! Why wouldn't I recognize 'em?" He looked back and forth between the two guns he now held in his hands. "Heyes, what's goin' on?" he demanded.

"The gun you're holding in your left hand is the gun they found beside you the day you were shot." Heyes paused while his words soaked in. "Sheriff Tate says it was on the ground next to your right hand, and that's not all. He also says you weren't wearing your gun belt."

Curry's head shot up. "Heyes, you know I never go out without wearin' my gun belt - ever!"

Heyes' steady gaze never strayed from the Kid's face. "But you didn't take it with you that morning." As Curry's mouth opened in protest, Heyes added, "I know, Kid; as hard as it is to believe, it's true. I found your gun belt hanging on the bedpost with your gun inside, upstairs in our hotel room. You still having trouble remembering what happened?"

Curry's face clouded over. "Yeah." Frustrated, he tossed the mystery gun down at the end of the bed.

Heyes reached down and picked it up. "I was hoping you'd at least have things figured out by now," he said as he stuffed it back down inside the bag, "But we'll just have to give it some more time. I'm sure it'll come back to you; the doc said not to push it, remember?"

A knock on the door interrupted them. Heyes opened it to admit an attractive young woman holding a tray loaded with enough food to feed three invalids. He stepped back with a wink, "I'll let you rest for a bit while you enjoy your breakfast, Thaddeus; I'll see you later."

"Hey," Curry's voice stopped him before he reached the door, "dontcha think it's kinda funny how I can recognize my own gun, but not remember who shot me or why?"

Heyes turned back. "No, I don't think it's funny at all. We'll talk about it more when I get back, okay?"

Curry nodded.

Heyes didn't shed his concern even after leaving the room. Something was going on in Lone Butte and he was bound and determined to get to the bottom of it!

0000000

Despite his earlier declarations of hunger, Curry didn't do full justice to either the meal or the woman. Both suffered due to his lack of attention as he focused on remembering what had happened. He was so caught up he barely took notice of the absence of either of them until long after the woman had removed the tray and left the room.

The pounding headache had returned with a vengeance, causing him to furrow his brow and abandon his futile attempt to unravel the mystery that surrounded him. Curry leaned back against the pillows and sighed. "Unless Heyes can produce one of his 'miracles', we might never know the truth!"

0000000

Holding her breath, Dolly picked up the valise and carefully lifted it up to set it on the bed. Only then did she step back and dare to breathe normally again. That short distance had set her nerves on edge already, what about the trip across town and upstairs into room #7? She patted the bag lightly. "Well, we've made it this far, my friend; guess the rest of it will be a snap!"

The woman bit down on her bottom lip thoughtfully. Brody still needed her to do this one last big thing to bring the plan to completion. "Without my help," she sniffed, "there wouldn't be a plan to complete." She had already stuck her neck out far enough several times and she wasn't even sure they were still willing to take her with them when they rode out with all the money. "Maybe there's something I can do to make Brody see that I'm still a very valuable asset?"

0000000

Heyes returned later in the day to check in on Kid.

"'Bout time you got back! So what did you find out?" Curry demanded impatiently.

"Nothing important. What did Doc Mason have to say?"

"Said I havta stay in bed at least another day or two," Curry grumbled, a scowl still firmly in place. "That means I'll miss the show tonight," he added glumly.

"Maybe he'll let you at least sit outside for awhile. I'll see what I can do, okay?" Heyes grinned.

Curry shrugged.

"Remember anything yet?" Heyes asked.

"Nope," Curry yawned. "You tell me what you found out, even if it isn't 'important.'"

"Seems a man named Miguel is the one who shot you. That name mean anything?"

"Nope." Another deep yawn assailed him. "Should it?"

"Claims you started the fight. Says that you called him out - for no reason."

"That's kinda important." Curry yawned once more. "What do the other witnesses say?"

"That's the problem, Kid. A man named Andy is the only other witness who saw the gunfight. He claims you started it, too. He backs up Miguel's story almost word for word."

"Kinda strange, I thought there were other people there." Another yawn, this one even longer and deeper than the others, cut off his words. His eyes drifted shut.

Heyes leaned forward and shook Curry's arm. "Hey!"

Curry's eyes popped open. "What?"

"You're falling asleep."

Curry tried to keep his eyes open long enough to give his partner a strange look. "You sure?" he yawned.

Heyes rolled his eyes. "Positive. What about the other witnesses?"

"What other witnesses?"

"The ones who didn't see the gunfight!" Heyes snapped.

Curry eyed his friend with concern, "Heyes, you feelin' alright?" Receiving only a silent glare he added, "Uh, if they didn't see it, they couldn't really be witnesses," he yawned, "right?"

"Kid, were there any other witnesses?"

Curry yawned, and responded with a silly grin.

"Kid, I don't think you understand how important this is - Andy and Miguel both say you started the fight!" Heyes persisted.

"Maybe I did," Curry mumbled as yet another yawn escaped him. He settled down more comfortably into the pillows and closed his eyes with a sigh of contentment.

"Maybe you did, what?"

"Start the fight." His voice reflective, the outlaw continued, "I woke up feelin' so bad that mornin', maybe I did." Curry yawned deeply. "After drinkin' all that scotch the night before, I was still feelin' pretty lousy. I could barely stand up, let alone walk." He stopped and closed his eyes.

Heyes waited, but Curry remained silent. "What happened next?"

"Huh? Oh, there was a man who didn't make sense who disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"Yep. Jus' up 'n disappeared. Walked off." Curry laughed at his own joke.

"Kid...Kid." Heyes shook Curry awake. "What happened next?"

"Yep," the sandy-haired man nodded happily, a silly grin on his face.

"Kid, did Doc Mason give you some medicine for the pain?"

"Yep," he nodded again. "Don't feel a thing."

"That's real nice, Kid." Heyes took Curry's face in his hands and turned it to face his own. "After that stranger disappeared, what happened?"

"Two more men showed up," Curry laughed. "They don't like us. I mean us when we're Holliday an' Earp. They were angry."

"They say why they were mad?"

Curry nodded again. "Said we'd caused them a whole lotta trouble." Another deep yawn. "Then..." he yawned deeply, "they...warned us…to stay away…from…some woman..." Curry's eyes closed, the rest of his words were lost as they slurred together.

The dark-haired outlaw stood up.

"Heyes?" Curry whispered.

"Right here, Kid." Heyes touched his partner's arm.

"Told him…didn't have a gun…" Curry took a deep breath, "an' he shot me…anyway…"

"You did real good, partner; real good. Go ahead and get some rest, now; I'll be back in a bit." Heyes picked up his hat and the mystery gun, and headed for the jail.

0000000

"So Thaddeus couldn't have started the fight? He didn't even have a gun? What about the one we found lyin' next to him?"

"The gun you found beside him belongs to somebody else, Thaddeus left his gun in our hotel room." He held out Curry's weapon for the sheriff to see. "This is his gun."

Tate looked at Heyes skeptically.

"He'd had a little too much to drink the night before, remember?"

"Uh huh, but I can't jus' call Miguel a liar, though. He 'n Andy backed each other up and nobody else denied what they said. They're two of Brody's boys. You remember when I told you about some troublemakers I was worried about? Well, that's them. I haven't seen hide nor hair of either Miguel or Andy since the shootin'. They're stayin' clear of Lone Butte, that's for sure."

Tate frowned. "Now that I come to think of it, so's everyone else that was causin' me problems. The only thing is, I still have that funny feelin' that somethin' ain't right." He rubbed the back of his neck. "So now, the question is, what're we gonna do about this? We don't have no real proof, only Thaddeus' statement. It'd be his word against the two of them; so where does that leave us?"

Heyes snatched the mystery gun off Tate's desk. Removing his own gun from his holster, he put the other weapon into it and looked at the sheriff. "Let's see what happens when I walk around town wearing this gun." He grinned at Tate.

"You wouldn't be thinkin' of doin' anythin' stupid now, would you?"

"Stupid? Sheriff, I never do anything stupid. I leave that for other people, like maybe the owner of this gun." His grin broadened.

A puzzled look on his face, Sheriff Tate watched the dark-haired man as he strode out the door.

0000000

Heyes passed Harvey Baker. The look on the man's face caused him to stop. "Hiya, Harvey; something wrong?"

"I'm not sure, Doc. Maybe."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, see all them horses tied up over yonder?"

Heyes smiled tolerantly, "Yes, what about them?"

"They belong to Brody and his men. Matter of fact, all six of 'em belong to that crowd."

"Brody?" Heyes' brow furrowed.

"Yep. Miguel's the man who shot Wyatt, an' he works for Brody; he's the foreman out at the Circle Bar B. That buckskin down at the far end belongs to him."

"Well, it's certainly not against the law to tie up your horse outside the saloon, is it?"

"Nope, Doc, it sure ain't." Harvey glanced towards the horses. "But it sure is peculiar."

Heyes shot the man a look. "Peculiar? In what way?"

"Well, they don't usually tie 'em up outside. Most of the time they stable 'em when they're in town."

"You're right; that is peculiar. Looks like they might want to get to them in a hurry."

"That's jus' what I got 'round to thinkin' when you walked up, Doc. But ya know what's even more peculiar? I've only seen two of 'em; not sure where the rest are. Our town ain't that big, so they must be hidin' somewhere. If ya ask me, that sorry bunch is up to no good; yessiree, no good at all." He caught sight of the gun in Heyes' holster. "Say, Doc, whatcha doin' with Roy's gun?"

"Roy's gun? Don't you mean Miguel's?" Heyes pulled the gun free from the holster.

"Nope," Harvey shook his head, "I'd know that gun anywhere; that's Roy's Colt alright. See that there handle with the two R's back-to-back inside the circle? Kinda looks like a tied-up ribbon, don't it? Well, a few months back, Roy had Bart - he's the blacksmith - burn 'em into the wood, right after he bought himself that gun. The two R's are his initials; R.R., for Roy Rollins."

"And this Roy, you say he's one of Brody's men?"

"Yep, sure is. Follows his boss around like a big puppy-dog; does whatever Brody tells him to."

"This Brody fella, he have any women out at his place?"

"Women? Out at his place?" Harvey shook his head and laughed. "Lordy, no; iffen the men want female company, they make the trip into town. I can't say as I've ever heard tell of a woman desperate enough to wanna go anywhere near that ranch of his." Harvey scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Brody does have quite a reputation with the ladies, though. Some of 'em like his looks, but I think it's the money he throws around, 'cos it sure ain't his manners!" he chortled. "But, if ya wanna see for yourself, Doc, both Brody and Roy are sittin' over at The Last Chance right now," he pointed to a building down at the end of the street and gave a short description of the two men to Heyes.

Heyes pursed his lips and strode thoughtfully towards the saloon. Sure enough, the two men Harvey had described were seated at a table off to the far side of the bar.

Spotting Heyes as he walked in the door, Roy moved his chair closer to Brody. "Smith's wearin' my gun!" he hissed, pulling his hat down to shield his face.

"I noticed," Brody replied calmly, "now sit back and relax," he ordered brusquely, "no need to draw attention to ourselves. Let's wait and see what he does next."

Despite his boss's warning, Roy slouched down even further in his chair; sinking as low as he could when Heyes turned, drink in hand, to survey the room.

"You don't have anything to worry about; he doesn't know your name or what you look like. He's looking for Miguel; Smith thinks he's wearin' his gun," Brody snickered.

Still uneasy, Roy reluctantly settled back in his chair. "Boss, I got a real bad feelin' there's gonna be more trouble," he dared to whisper, for once not caring if he invoked Brody's wrath.

Raising his glass, Brody smiled mirthlessly. "If anyone gives us trouble, I hope it's him; remember, a bullet can stop Smith as easy as the next man."

At the mention of bullets, Roy gulped down his beer in one swallow. "I think I need a whiskey!" he announced, still watching Smith covertly.

"You're lucky you got a beer!" Brody snapped, "As soon as he leaves, I'm going back upstairs until this job is finished. You're going to take care of the horses. Make sure they're tied up tight and ready to go; got it?"

Roy nodded silently. Smith's eyes lighted on them, causing the anxious man to tuck his head down and stare at the floor. Beside him, Brody never even flinched.

"We can't have them getting spooked by the fireworks," Brody continued smoothly as if nothing were wrong, " and we don't have much time left before they start the show." He fell silent. Roy tensed when his boss hissed, "Don't do anything stupid; Smith's headin' this way!"

"You Brody?"

"If you are addressing me, sir, then yes, that's my name. I don't believe we've met?" Brody smiled and held out his hand. He slowly lowered it when it was pointedly ignored. His face lost its smile. "And you are...?"

"Smith - Joshua Smith. I'm looking for one of your men; goes by the name of Miguel."

"Miguel?" Brody murmured, "Hmm, can't say as I've seen him for a few days. He may have decided to take himself a little 'holiday', Mister Smith. Right now, he's probably down south somewhere," he shrugged indifferently, "who knows?"

"If either of you see the man, tell him Joshua Smith is looking for him."

Brody rose languidly to his feet and stared back insolently into the eyes of the man glaring across the table at him. "Will do, Mister Smith."

Brody was the first to break eye contact.

With a nod, Heyes turned and walked away.

His eyes glittering with his anger, Brody turned to Roy. "Go out the back door, check those horses and then high-tail it upstairs," he growled and left the room.

Roy nodded and then watched Smith uneasily from under the brim of his hat as the dark-haired man left the saloon still wearing his gun. When he had disappeared from sight, Roy couldn't get out of the room fast enough.

Heyes stepped outside and noticed the lengthening shadows as the sun began to set. He glanced upwards and noticed Dolly's room was dark.

"Whatcha lookin' up that-a-way for, Doc?" Harvey's puzzled voice inquired from behind him.

"I was wondering if Widow Hayes was going to the fireworks show tonight?"

"Why you lookin' up thar? Miz Hayes lives over thar," he pointed in the opposite direction, "where it's quieter."

"Does she now?" Heyes arched a brow and turned to look at the man.

Harvey grinned, "Those rooms up there may be over the bank, but the hotel's surrounded by them three saloons; the noise can be pretty bothersome some nights."

"Oh, well I guess I was mistaken, then; I thought I saw her up there once."

"Maybe she was visitin' a friend?" Harvey gave an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

Heyes stared at the gun he held in his hand. "Maybe. Say, could you do me a favor? If you see Sheriff Tate around, would you tell him I'm thinking about making a late deposit." Heyes turned and left.

"But Doc," Harvey protested, "the bank's closed!" He clamped his mouth shut as he realized he was talking to himself.

Heyes hurried back to Doc Mason's office, opened the door and found Dolly hovering over the Kid, a pillow between her hands.

"Joshua!" the startled woman cried out as she pivoted around, "I do declare, ya nearly skairt me outta my skin!" Dolly placed a hand over her heaving bosom. "Why, I nearly jumped onto poor Thaddeus! As you can see, I was jus' tryin' to make him a bit more comfortable."

She turned around and made a great show of raising the invalid's head, solicitously tucking the pillow underneath. "I was hopin' he'd be awake so we could talk," her voice was practically a purr.

"Uh, huh." Eyes narrowed, Heyes closed the door and stepped forward to stand between her and the Kid. "I'm sure Thaddeus will be real sorry he missed you, Dolly. Maybe he'll be awake when you come back tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh, well, if you say so. If he does wake, you will tell him I came visiting, won't you? she requested in a sugary voice.

"I don't suppose he'll be awake before tomorrow, Dolly," Heyes replied smoothly, "Doc Mason gave him something earlier to help with the pain, and it looks like he's out for the night." Heyes shook his head, "Poor fella, still doesn't remember anything; it's really kind of pitiful," he heaved a dramatic sigh.

"I'll jus' say good-bye to you than, Joshua," Dolly drawled, advancing towards Heyes.

She stopped in front of the dark-haired man and looked up into his brown eyes. Standing on tiptoe, she placed a hand behind his head and pulled the unresistant man closer for a kiss.

Sensing movement, Heyes looked towards the bed, but the Kid's eyes were closed and he was still. When Dolly claimed his mouth for another kiss, he pulled away as though reluctant for it to end. "As much as I'd like for this to continue, this isn't the time or the place, Dolly," he whispered and led her towards the door.

Heyes shut the door behind her, and leaned against it. "She's gone; how long you been awake?"

"I was asleep until you closed the door and started talking," he grinned.

Heyes crossed to sit on the end of the bed, facing his partner, "I think our lady friend might be a black widow in disguise."

"A spider? What are you talkin' about?"

"You're still groggy from that medicine, aren't you? I think she may be a part of what's going on around here and I think she's dangerous. I caught her holding a pillow just over your face, partner."

"Dolly?" asked Kid, shocked. Heyes nodded, and Curry caught sight of the gun in his partner's holster. "Hey, wait a minute; why're you wearin' that gun?"

"Oh, just an experiment I was testing out," Heyes grinned.

"You're beginnin' to worry me, Heyes." Curry frowned, "Spiders an' a gun experiment?"

Heyes gave Curry a pat on his shoulder and left him his gun. "I'm alright, Kid; you're the one lying here." He got up and went to the door. "Oh, by the way, female black widow spiders eat the males when they're finished with them."

0000000

Upstairs in room #7, the men had successfully pried up the floorboards and sawed their way through the thick wooden beams. They leaned back to survey their work when Wolf, who was on lookout at the door, stepped back to admit Dolly. A few minutes later, Brody joined them; Roy soon followed. Wolf gave the all-clear signal, and Brody addressed the group.

"The good news is we're almost finished and soon that money will be ours! The fireworks are about to start, so everybody should be busy watching that. Dolly, you take the window; the rest of us will be working on that plaster. Any noise we make should be covered by the fireworks, so don't be afraid to put your back into it, men. Now, let's get back to work!"

Soon the sounds of hammering against concrete filled the room. The men began sweating in earnest from their exertions.

0000000

Across the street, Heyes stepped out of the shadows and looked around at the nearly deserted town and then up at the brightly lit room above the bank. Everyone seemed to be at the fireworks show; everyone except the occupants of room #7.

He crossed the street and entered the deserted lobby of the hotel, nodding at the night clerk as he passed him on the boardwalk. The man acknowledged the nod and returned his attention to the colorful display starting in the nighttime sky. Heyes walked up the stairs and went to room #3. He unlocked the door, stepped quickly inside and stood still, listening to the sounds coming from down the hall.

Ed, now at the door, waved for silence. "Somebody just went into one of the rooms," he whispered, looking at Brody. The leader held a finger to his lips and motioned for everyone to be quiet.

Ed opened the door a crack and peered out. "Someone's comin' this way!" he hissed, "Looks like that Smith fella!" He eased the door shut and pulled the gun from his holster. Brody motioned Dolly away from the window and signaled for her to go to the door; he followed close behind.

A knock sounded on the door. "Who is it?" Dolly called out.

"It's your neighbor, Joshua Smith."

"Why Mister Smith, whatever are ya doin' up here. Shouldn't ya be over watchin' the fireworks?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing." There was a pause. "Are you alone, Dolly?"

As Brody pulled his gun, Dolly quickly placed a hand on it and shook her head. "Why, yes I am. Why do you ask, Mister Smith?"

"Well, if we're both alone and we both should be at the show, maybe we could solve the problem and go together."

"Why, I think that's a splendid idea, Joshua. Jus' give me a minute to get my shawl and a blanket, alright?"

"I'll be waiting right here."

Brody pulled Dolly to the other side of the room. "He heard us!" he whispered.

"How could he have heard us?" Dolly whispered back. "Ed signaled us to stop. An' even if he did hear somethin', what would it mean to him?"

"If he gives it two seconds thought, he'll figure out what it is. I better take care of him now."

"You take care of him now an' you'll be wanted for murder! The clerk is below in the street; he may not hear us now, but he'll hear a gunshot for sure! Roy, honey, it's not worth the risk. You leave him to me; I promise I'll keep him away from here."

Brody stared hard at her a moment before he holstered his gun and followed her back to the door. Hiding behind it as she pulled it open, he waited.

Dolly opened the door far enough to allow her to exit and locked it behind her. She smiled as she put the key in her purse and took the arm of her handsome escort. After a few moments, a key turned in the lock from the inside, the door cautiously opened a crack and the work resumed.

0000000

Heyes and Dolly found a place to spread the blanket far enough away from the bandstand to enjoy the music but still hear each other. After a while, Heyes turned to the woman beside him.

"I don't know about you, but I sure could use something to drink. Shall I see what I can find for us?"

"I believe they have lemonade back at the hall, Joshua. And yes, I'd love a glass," Dolly waved her fan back and forth in front of her, "My throat does feel a bit parched!"

"Alright, I'll be back before you have time to miss me," he promised with a wink. He stood as a spectacular display went off in the sky above and Dolly's attention was drawn to it; she barely noticed when her escort left.

0000000

In room #7, the men were beginning to get excited. Using the corkscrew drill, they had almost completed the job, and were about to lift the final piece of concrete out. Then the real work could begin.

0000000

Heyes walked to a tree, stopped, and reached into the bag he'd hidden beneath his vest. He fished out a key, and smiled. Dropping the bag, he headed towards the hotel.

"Hey, Doc!" Harvey greeted him warmly as he passed, "Enjoyin' the show?"

"Sure am, Harvey. Say, have you seen Brody or any of his men around since we last spoke?"

"Can't say that I have, but their horses are still tied up outside the hotel; all six of 'em."

"Thanks, Harvey. You folks have a good evening."

"You too, Doc. Say, did the sheriff ever catch up with ya? I gave him your message jus' a bit ago an' he tore outta the office like a tornado! I never seen the man move that fast in the whole time I knowed him!"

"I'll keep my eyes open for him, Harvey. Listen, if you run into Tate, tell him I could use some help up in room #7, okay?"

"If ya say so, Doc; maybe we'll see ya later. There's an ice cream social after the fireworks, ya know," Harvey called out after Heyes.

0000000

Brody, Miguel, Wolf and Ed raised the heavy concrete slab out of the hole in the floor. All four men were breathing hard by the time they pulled their crowbars loose and stood staring down at the gaping hole. The thick layer of plaster was all that remained of the bank's ceiling, and the only thing that stood between them and $100,000.

"Andy, you get those ropes ready while we finish over here," Brody ordered as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Wolf, you take the door."

The men took turns knocking the plaster out with hammers. Brody secured the rope ladder they would use to lower themselves down into the bank.

"I'll go first, then Roy, Ed, Wolf and Miguel, you last. Andy, you stay up here; your job is takin' care of the dynamite. This is it boys," Brody rubbed his hands together gleefully, "This is what we've been waitin' for - let's get this show on the road!"

Andy was so engrossed watching the others go down the ladder that he never heard the key turn in the lock or the door open behind him.

"Send down the dynamite," Brody called out.

Andy picked up the stack, wrapped the rope around it and started lowering it. It had only gone a few feet when he heard a noise behind him and turned, reaching for his gun. He stopped when he found himself looking into the business end of a Colt .45. His eyes traveled further upward to see Heyes standing with a finger to his lips.

The dark-haired man motioned for the dynamite to come back up. Andy hesitated, and then complied. As the explosives neared the top, Andy suddenly lunged towards Heyes. The handle of Heyes' gun caught him on the side of the head and knocked him out cold.

"What's wrong?" Brody hissed impatiently.

"Nothing," Heyes whispered back.

"Where's that dynamite?"

Heyes stuffed the fuse between the sticks, lit it and started lowering it down the hole.

"It's right here," he whispered.

"What are you doing, you idiot!? There's enough explosives here to blow us clear to Timbuktu!"

"That's right, Brody," Heyes leaned forward to peer down into the hole. "Throw your guns over in that corner where I can see them. Then, if you all lay down on the floor, maybe I might pull the fuse."

The men looked to their boss. "Do what he says," Brody ordered, his expression thunderous. He threw his gun into the corner Heyes had indicated. "Now!" Reluctantly, the others followed suit.

When all five outlaws were face down on the floor, Heyes pulled the dynamite back up and extinguished the fuse. "As long as you stay nice and quiet, nobody will get hurt."

He climbed down the ladder into the darkened bank, keeping his gun trained on the men below. When his feet hit bottom, he began to untangle himself from the rope.

Ed lurched forward.

"Stop right there!" Heyes fired a warning shot.

Ed ignored the warning and kept on going. He dove towards his gun.

Heyes fired once more, this time hitting the outlaw in the shoulder. Ed slumped against the wall, a hand to the bleeding wound and groaning in agony.

"Any of the rest of you feel like trying?" No one moved. "I didn't think so. As long as the rest of you don't try anything stupid, you won't end up like your friend. The Sheriff will be along in a few minutes, to take you to a nice, comfy jail cell," Heyes lied in confidence. "Well Brody, looks like your little plan failed."

Brody glowered back insolently.

"It's okay; you don't have to say a word. Sheriff Tate knows all about you and your boys." His gun on the would-be robbers, Heyes turned slightly to unlock the door. His movement allowed Wolf time to pull a knife from his belt and throw it with deadly accuracy towards the dark-haired man.

"Look out, Doc!" yelled a voice from the shadows.

A moment later somebody plowed into his mid-section, and knocked the wind out of him. Heyes found himself flat on his back watching a knife whoosh through the air where he had just been standing a few seconds ago. He gulped as the blade lodged itself into the wood of the bank door a few feet above his head.

"You okay?"

Heyes nodded as Curry ducked behind a counter and began to exchange gunfire with the outlaws. He rolled over quickly, found cover beside a crate and joined in the gunfire. Another man emerged from the shadows to his left and Heyes recognized the familiar face of Sheriff Tate. He nodded in recognition.

Taking advantage of the confusion, the desperate bank robbers had successfully retrieved their weapons, with the exception of Roy, who cowered miserably on the floor in a corner where he had crawled in hopes of avoiding any bullets.

In the melee that followed, it was hard to tell who was shooting at whom. The would-be bank robbers had the slight advantage of taking shelter behind the bank tellers' station, but quickly realized that the other three men stood between them and freedom. The money was forgotten as they fought to make their way towards the door.

Miguel made a last ditch effort and ended up between Heyes and the Sheriff. Both men pointed their guns at him; he dropped his weapon and raised his hands in the air. Tate pulled Miguel towards him and shoved him to the ground. Kneeling next to the man, he pulled a leather strip out of his pocket and began tying the struggling outlaw's hands behind him.

"Go ahead, Miguel, keep it up an' give me a reason to put a hole in you! After what you did to Wyatt, nobody'd blame me!"

The robber put his head down in defeat and quit resisting.

Wolf helped Ed to his feet. They decided to make a break together while Tate tied up Miguel. Firing their guns and running towards the door, they had almost reached their goal when Heyes stuck his foot out, neatly tripping the first man, and tackling the second one. He sent Ed sprawling towards Curry, who stepped forward and pointed his gun at the man.

"Stay right there and don't even blink; my trigger finger's not very steady right now and I might accidentally shoot you." He turned his attention to his partner and smiled as the man looked up. Heyes had already subdued Wolf and was waiting for a piece of rope to tie up his prisoner's hands.

Curry transferred his gaze over to the sheriff and saw the stranger that had first called him out the day he was shot. Almost hidden from view, the man was pointing his gun straight at Heyes, who had his back to him.

"Heyes – watch out!" Curry dove for his partner, once again knocking him backwards to the ground. He raised his arm and fired a shot towards the stranger, rolled off Heyes and then sent a bullet flying towards Wolf, who was trying to make it to the door.

"I thought I told you not to move!" he shouted and fired another shot above the Indian's head.

Wolf threw himself to the ground. "Okay, okay, I'll stay put; don't shoot me!"

Tate had gone over to check on Brody. Kneeling beside the gang leader, he looked up as Heyes picked himself up and dusted himself off.

"He'll live," his voice held a hint of disappointment, "It's only a flesh wound." The lawman glanced over at Roy. "I don't s'pose I have to tell you not to move, do I?"

Roy shook his head and shrank even further into 'his' corner of the room.

Tate rose and stared down at Brody. "He's not goin' anywhere. Well, thanks to you two, these fellas are gonna be spendin' a whole lotta time behind bars, ain't that right, Thaddeus?" The sheriff looked around. "Thaddeus?"

"Over here," came a weary voice.

Heyes left the lawman with Brody and walked towards the voice. He found the owner stretched out, face down on the floor, behind some boxes.

Heyes crouched down beside his partner and touched his arm. "You okay?"

Curry rolled over to his back and looked up. "Don't ask," he groaned. "You?"

"Me? Oh, I've never felt better. It's not everyday a man gets knocked out flat on his back by his partner - twice. I thought you were in bed – asleep."

"I was - for a while. I thought you were watchin' the fireworks."

"I was - for a while. Then everything all fell into place. So, how'd you and the Sheriff figure it out?"

"It's a long story; some other time."

"Go ahead; we've got the time." Heyes reached down and helped his partner to his feet. Curry leaned against a pole for support. "It's going to be a while before Tate and the deputy get things settled here."

"We thought it'd be a good idea to wait inside the bank an' catch 'em in the act."

"We?" Heyes arched a brow.

"Tate 'n me. He came lookin' for you. He was happy to have some help."

"Well, you've helped. Maybe you ought to just sit for a while now. I'll find Tate."

Curry nodded wearily and collapsed into the nearest chair.

Heyes found Tate finishing up outside with his deputy who led a wounded, but still furious, Brody and a very subdued Roy, both in handcuffs, away.

"That's the last of 'em. There was seven in all, countin' Dolly an' Andy, the one you knocked out upstairs." The Sheriff shook his head. "It's too bad about Dolly but, woman or not, she's as guilty as the rest of 'em."

Heyes nodded, "Well, Sheriff, if you don't need us anymore, I'm going to get my partner back into his bed so that Doc Mason can take care of those busted stitches."

Tate reached out to shake Heyes' hand. "I'll never be able to thank you two enough, Joshua. I never could've done this without your help, yours and Thaddeus'." The sheriff stared into Heyes' eyes as he emphasized the names.

Heyes tipped his hat and turned away. He could still feel the lawman's eyes following him as he walked back to his partner. He helped Curry across the street and into bed without any further problems.

"Never did get to see the fireworks," Curry mumbled before he closed his eyes.

0000000

A few days later, Doc Mason pronounced Curry fit to travel, either by stagecoach or train. After consulting the timetables for each in the direction of Yuma, Heyes determined the train to be their best bet.

Sheriff Tate accompanied the two to the station. Heyes went to purchase the tickets and Curry eased himself down on a bench. Tate propped a foot up on the bench next to Jones and cleared his throat.

"I guess this didn't turn out to be much of a holiday for you two, did it?"

Curry shook his head, "Sure didn't, Sheriff," he looked down at the sling that supported his left arm, "Guess I'll always have a little reminder to help me remember the time I spent here in Lone Butte."

"I want you to know, you two sure did our small town a really big favor by stoppin' Brody and his gang from robbin' our bank. You'll never know how much we appreciate it."

"We jus' happened to be in the right place at the right time, Sheriff," Curry shrugged, uncomfortable with the lawman's words of praise.

"Well now, that might work for the real Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp, but you two took an awfully big risk, 'specially when you take into consideration who you really are," he said as Heyes walked over to join them.

Curry stared straight ahead.

"And just who are we - really?" asked Heyes with a bemused smile.

The lawman took a cautious look around, and then whispered, "Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry."

0000000