They hadn't spoken any more about Sheriff Welby or the dog last night and nothing was mentioned over coffee and biscuits in the saloon that morning, but once they hit the trail it seemed to Kid as if Heyes had talked about nothing else. Well aware that this was his partner's way of straightening things out in his mind Kid figured that this constant verbal flow was probably because he had spent the night on his own without anybody to wake in the middle of the night to talk to. However, whether it was the middle of the night or right now it didn't make him any less annoying.

The second Heyes paused for breath Kid saw his chance. "Well, it looks to me like I might have earned us a little extra cash," he stated with a self-satisfied smile and a nod.

"Oh, really?" Heyes responded, sarcastically. "Pleased with yourself, are you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"And you've got a plan?"

Kid's smile disappeared. "A plan?"

"Yeah, a plan. What are you gonna do when we get to Linwood? You just gonna walk into Sheriff Welby's office with Wheat?"

"I... I guess."

Heyes nodded sagely. "I see."

"Hold on a minute." Kid didn't like the sound of this. "I'm gonna walk into the Sheriff's office? You're coming too, right?"

"The hell I am!"

"Why not?"

"Because you'll be needing someone on the outside for when you get into trouble."

"What trouble?"

"Kid, I know we're not in Wyoming or Colorado, but Utah isn't exactly a million miles away from where we did most of our robbin'. This Sheriff must have seen our Wanted posters."

"Um..."

"He may even have them decorating his wall."

"Yeah, but..."

"The two of us... walking in there together...now, that's just asking for trouble."

"Well..."

"Look, I've no doubt he'll be happy to have his dog back but... what if he's not offering a reward?"

"I, uh..."

"Face it, Kid." Heyes pulled his horse to a sudden stop blocking his cousin's path. "There's a real strong possibility that all he's gonna offer you is a look down the barrel of his six-gun, a set of iron bracelets, and a cell for twenty years!"

"Sheesh, Heyes," Kid grumbled. "That silver tongue of yours takin' a break or somethin'?"

Heyes had opened his mouth to deliver a snappy retort but one look at his partner's crestfallen expression made him close it again. "Okay, okay. Let me think about it a while."

"Sounds to me like you've done nothin' but think about it."

Heyes nudged his horse back to a walk and smiled ruefully — Kid knew him so well. "Won't hurt to think some more."

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

The road from Calhoun to Linwood was flat easy riding. There had been no more rain so the ground was turning from mud to soft dirt which meant they made good time, only stopping to water their horses and eat a sandwich purchased from the saloon at breakfast; each making sure to share a little with Wheat. By late afternoon they began to pass one or two properties heralding the outskirts of Linwood.

When the town itself came into view Heyes reined his horse to a halt and sat staring at the road ahead. Kid did likewise leaning forward on his saddle horn and Wheat stopped investigating the undergrowth to sit alongside Kid's gelding. They both stared at Heyes with interest.

"What we stoppin' for?"

"Y' know, Kid, we don't need to go into town."

Kid sighed. "What you mean is — you still ain't comin' with me."

"No, I mean neither of us has to go. Now that we've got fresh supplies we could take that fork we passed a mile or so back and head west."

"Heyes, I don't know why you're so nervous about this. We don't know a Sheriff Welby." Kid's eyes narrowed. "You ain't had one of those premonition things again, have ya?"

The former outlaw-leader shook his head. "I don't like tempting fate, is all."

"Pfftt. We do nothin' but tempt fate, 'specially when you sit down at a poker table," muttered Kid.

Heyes scowled. "Kid, may I remind you, it happens to be a good long while since you had to back me up during a game. Months ago, in fact. And even then, it wasn't really a problem. I couldha—"

Kid Curry's face broke into a grin at Heyes' pique. "Aw, I'm just messin' with ya, Heyes. You gonna tell me what you're thinkin'? Do you wanna keep Wheat now? Is that what it is?" he asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

"No! I just don't see why he can't find his own way home from here. He must know this is where he lives. He don't need us to go with him." Heyes jumped down from his saddle.

"Hey, Wheat!" The dog's tail thumped excitedly on the ground. "Off you go fella." A brown glove pointed in the direction of the town but Wheat just stared blankly at Heyes. "Go on, boy." Wheat didn't move.

"Now you know he's not gonna do anythin' you tell him, Heyes." Chuckling, Kid swung his leg over his saddle horn landing on both feet next to the dog who, tail still brushing trail dust back and forth, looked up at the tall blond. Kid patted the dog's head before he too pointed up the road. "Go home, Wheat!"

The dog's eyes were the only thing that moved as they followed the finger. "Go on home!" Kid commanded, sternly.

When the dog still didn't move, it was Heyes' turn to laugh. "Well, would you look at that! Wheat don't wanna do what you tell him, neither. Maybe it's a good thing I haven't needed you to back me up lately, Kid. Looks to me like that proddy gunman act of yours ain't working too well."

In answer to this remark Heyes received an icy glare confirming that Kid's 'proddy gunman act' was working just fine.

After several more attempts to encourage the dog to make his own way into town Heyes indicated to Kid that they should mount up again and, once back in the saddle he jerked his thumb in the direction they had just come. Without a word the ex-outlaws turned their mounts and trotted back down the road. After a few hundred yards they glanced back over their shoulders. The dog was gone. Pleased with themselves they urged their horses into a lope intending to take the road Heyes had mentioned.

Seemingly out of nowhere a large brown blur streaked past only to stop in the middle of the road; Wheat stood facing them panting, his long pink tongue dripping saliva into the dust.

Both men pulled their horses up, sharply.

"Sheesh. Looks like we're goin' into town after all."

Heyes let out a heartfelt sigh and reined his horse around.

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

Riding as nonchalantly as possible down Linwood's main street Kid tipped his hat to a pretty lady while Heyes scanned faces for anyone they might know. Wheat trotted beside Kid's horse looking for all the world as if he belonged to the two men.

"What we gonna do, Heyes?" Kid murmured through clenched teeth. "Go straight to the Sheriff's office or should we go get a drink first?"

"Why? You figuring you should get a whiskey in case it might be your last?"

"Very funny."

"As much as I'd like a drink...I say, let's get it over with."

Kid nodded his agreement and with mounting trepidation they tied their horses to the hitching rail outside the Sheriff's office.

"You wait here, I'll check out the Sheriff," Heyes instructed before taking a deep breath, straightening his hat, and opening the door. As he walked inside leaving the door ajar so his partner could hear, his eyes made a cursory glance toward the cells. They appeared to be empty.

"Howdy. You Sheriff Welby?"

"Yep, that's me," replied a voice from behind a newspaper.

"My name's Joshua Smith and I think me and my friend might have found something belonging to you. The bartender in Calhoun seems to think so, anyway."

"Floyd?" A clean-shaven man of about forty with kind eyes and a pleasant smile peered around the well-thumbed publication.

Heyes edged toward the open door. "Thaddeus!"

Kid's arrival was quicker and his hand a little closer to his gun than he had intended after hearing Heyes call his name.

"He yours?" Heyes asked, pointing at the dog that ran in close on Kid's heels.

"Why, yes! Yes, he is. Otis!" The joy at being reunited with his dog evident, Sheriff Welby leapt to his feet and rushed out from behind his desk. As he crouched down the animal ran to him and attempted to slather the man's face with wet licks. "I never thought I'd see you again. Where did you find him?" He looked up at Heyes.

"My friend here rescued him from the river a few days back. He must have fallen in during those heavy rains and it was flowing so fast he couldn't get out."

The Sheriff stood and extended his hand. "Thank you very much," he said, pumping the Kid's hand vigorously. "You have no idea how upset my boy has been since I returned home without him."

Kid smiled. "We heard he was kinda attached."

"Louis and him are pretty much inseparable, 'cept when he's out with me."

"We heard he's a good hunting dog so we figured you would be wanting him back," said Heyes.

"Oh, he's good... but not for regular hunting. I got him a few years ago when I first took this job. Linwood was real lawless then so I got me a good hound and trained him up to hunt — men — outlaws mainly. He's got a real knack for sniffin' them out."

Right on cue Otis looked directly at the ex-outlaws and gave two exaggerated sniffs. The Sheriff shook his head. "Don't rightly know how he does it. Runs well with a posse too."

Heyes and Curry smiled uncomfortably.

To try and rid himself of the sensation that his neck was being gripped by an iron fist, Heyes cleared his throat. "Well, Sheriff, we just wanted to return him."

"Yeah, we'll be getting along now," added Kid, taking a large backward step toward the door.

"Oh, no you ain't!"

Both men froze.

"You're gonna wait right here," said the Sheriff with a smile. "I'll just go get my deputy — he won't mind starting early today, under the circumstances. Then you're both coming home with me to meet my wife and Louis. Sylvie's a real good cook and the least I can do is offer you fellas some supper."

"Oh, we'd hate your wife to go to any trouble for us, Sheriff."

"It's no trouble. Now, there's coffee in the pot on the stove over there. Help yourselves. Otis will keep you company. Stay, Otis," he said as he placed his hat on his head, stepped out onto the boardwalk and closed the door firmly behind him.

Heyes breathed out.

"Well, I don't know about you but I sure ain't waitin' around for him to get back." Kid Curry turned for the door only to see the dog sitting in front of it. "Heyes, what's he doin'?"

"He's just sitting, Kid. Sheesh, now who's nervous?!" Feeling more confident now that the Sheriff was no longer there the dark haired man rolled his eyes as he reached for the door knob.

Otis growled loudly, baring all his teeth. The two men exchanged a glance, silently considering their options.

"Back door," Kid concluded but before he could take a step a hand seized his arm. Heyes eyed the snarling dog. "Looks to me like he's fixing to sink his teeth into your leg way before you get there, Kid. Anyway, it'll look a might suspicious if we take off now. Best we just try and relax and wait for the Sheriff."

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

A cup of coffee in one hand and a neatly folded week-old newspaper in the other, Hannibal Heyes looked up from where he leant against the desk as the sound of booted footsteps on the boardwalk outside heralded the arrival of more than one person. Otis moved away from the door and wagged his tail in greeting at the two men who entered.

"Hi there, Otis! I heard you was back," said a young man as he rubbed the dog's muzzle.

"These are the two fellas I was telling you about, Sam," said Sheriff Welby. "Mister Smith and...uh?"

"Jones, Thaddeus Jones," Kid filled in the details with a weak smile as he quickly extricated himself from the Sheriff's chair.

The lawman raised an amused eyebrow. "Smith and Jones?"

"That's right, Sheriff. Funny ain't it? We've been partners a while now and we still laugh about it." Heyes turned on his most innocent smile and hoped it was convincing.

"I bet. Okay, you two fellas finish up your coffee while I talk to Sam here and then we can take Otis home."

Heyes turned to place his cup and newspaper on the desk only to glimpse the wrinkle in his cousin's brow. Following his gaze, Heyes' smile was replaced by a frown of his own.

Kid was looking toward the opposite wall which was papered liberally with Wanted posters. Right in the centre were two, slightly larger than all the others, that they recognized immediately — their own. They had been in Sheriff's offices before and seen their posters but, disturbing as it was, that wasn't the problem here. The problem here was that Otis was sitting facing the wall, staring directly up at their names.

Sidling up to his partner Kid hissed acidly, "You still gonna tell me he's 'just sittin''?"

"Get him away from there," murmured Heyes, glancing nervously over his shoulder and noting thankfully that Sheriff Welby was still in deep discussion with his deputy.

"Me?"

"Well, you're more his friend than me."

Kid shot Heyes a cold stare before chirping, "Hey, Whea...uh, Otis."

Otis glanced round for a split-second, thumped his tail, then fixed his eyes once more on the wall. "I'm sure gonna miss you," said Kid, stooping down to fuss the dog while trying to edge him away. Otis slapped the ex-outlaw's face with his long wet tongue then focussed his attention back on the posters. Wiping his face with the back of his hand Kid shrugged hopelessly at Heyes.

"Dang hound! He's always doing that." The voice startled them and Kid hastily stood up. Sheriff Welby marched over to the wall and slapped the palm of his hand on it — hard — squarely between their names. "Hopper!" he stated.

"Beg pardon," croaked Heyes, having feared that the Sheriff's sudden movement might have made the Kid a little too nervous.

"A hopper. Every time he sees one of those critters he just stares at it, like he's in some kinda trance. Folks don't like it. Makes them nervous."

Both Heyes and Curry laughed with relief as the Sheriff raised his hand revealing a small, squashed locust.

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

The short ride to Sheriff Welby's house was not exactly a pleasant experience for the two former outlaws but his young son's reaction to seeing Otis again made their discomfort worthwhile.

As they trotted toward the house Louis had whooped with joy, launched himself from the porch and flung his arms around the dog which then proceeded to push the eight year old over onto his back and try to lick him to death. Louis' spluttering shrieks of laughter rang out around the yard. The three men stayed in their saddles and watched, enjoying the spectacle and waiting until the excitement had died down a little before they dismounted.

"Well, somebody won't be needing a bath for a week," laughed the Sheriff, looking at Louis' wet face and hair. "Talking of washing, there's a pump over yonder. I know Sylvie would appreciate it if you could wash off some of that trail dust before supper."

Sylvie was every bit as good a cook as Sheriff Welby had said and, despite the state of their nerves, both Heyes and Curry managed to eat every single morsel that was put in front of them. Louis, however, was far too excited about having the dog back home to do his supper justice and he fidgeted so much at the table that his mother eventually shooed him out of the door, a biscuit in each hand, one for him and one for Otis.

As Sylvie poured each of them a steaming cup of coffee the Sheriff finally posed the question they had long been expecting.

"You fellas just passin' through?"

"Lookin' for work," replied Kid. "We tried a few towns further north but had no luck. Truth is, we're almost busted." He was still hoping they would be offered a reward for returning the dog.

"And what is it you do... exactly?"

"We do pretty much anything," replied Heyes quickly before Kid could say "As little as possible."

"Hmmm." Sheriff Welby ran his hand thoughtfully over his chin. "I've been thinkin' about buying Louis a horse of his own but that barn's in such bad shape there's barely shelter for one animal, let alone another. How's about you two fixin' it up? I don't need nothin' fancy, just the roof repairing and an extra stall. Maybe even a small hayloft. Think you could manage that?"

Heyes and Curry exchanged a look.

Sensing their uncertainty the Sheriff continued, "Job shouldn't take you more'n two weeks, I'd say. I'll pay you fifteen dollars a week apiece. We've got a warm, dry loft here in the house where you can sleep and you've already sampled Sylvie's cookin', so you know you won't go hungry."

"We'll need to talk it over between the two of us, Sheriff," said Heyes. "Mind if we take our coffee outside?"

"Sure. Go take a look."

Taking their hats from the pegs by the door Heyes and Curry stepped out onto the porch which was now bathed in a soft golden light from the setting sun. Dodging Otis who was running back and forth enthusiastically retrieving a stick thrown by Louis, they crossed the yard to the run down structure that the Sheriff had mentioned. After a quick look inside they leaned their backs against it while they drank their coffee.

Kid's concern was palpable prompting Heyes to ask, "You worried about working for the Sheriff?"

"It's not the Sheriff, Heyes, it's usin' a hammer that worries me."

"We've done some carpentry work before. Remember that building we helped build in Wickenburg?"

"Yeah, I remember it. Took weeks to get the feelin' back in my thumb," grumbled Kid.

Heyes grinned. "Y' know, it's the best offer we've had in weeks."

"It's the only offer we've had in weeks."

Kid took a swallow from his cup before glancing sideways at his cousin. "We're gonna take it, ain't we?"

"Yep."

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

Now, the former leaders of the Devil's Hole Gang would be the first to admit that they were a whole lot better at robbing railroads and banks than they were at carpentry but, by the end of two weeks the barn was looking pretty good. The roof had been repaired and there was a new stall all ready for Louis' horse, not to mention a brand new hayloft. Being on the run meant they had spent more nights than they cared to count hunkering down in barns and so were familiar with how all the supports and crossbeams should look.

Their stay at the Welby home had been a surprisingly pleasant one and was the longest time — outside of a jail cell, that is — that they had ever spent in the company of a lawman who wasn't their friend and mentor, Lom Trevors.

However, there was one aspect of their stay that had not been quite so pleasant and that was the sight of Otis constantly staring up at them from underneath a crossbeam, or sitting in the middle of the yard watching intently as they put the finishing touches to the roof. Heyes had eventually put this down to canine curiosity, but Kid wasn't so sure and his left thumb had suffered more hits than usual from taking his eyes off what he was doing to cast wary glances at the dog.

After enjoying the last of Sylvie's substantial breakfasts the former outlaws said their goodbyes to her and Louis and set off on the short ride into Linwood to collect their pay. Otis once more trotted alongside Kid Curry's gelding.

"Otis, go home!" Kid shouted, pointing back toward the house.

"He stopped doing what you tell him 'bout two weeks ago, Kid. Or hadn't you noticed?"

"I noticed. What's he doin', comin' with us? Don't he want to stay and play with Louis?"

"Maybe he just wants to keep us company."

"Or turn us in."

Hannibal Heyes' laugh was loud and spontaneous. "Turn us in?!" he spluttered.

"Heyes, you remember what the Sheriff said about him sniffin' out outlaws. He's been watchin' us the whole time."

"You sure you didn't hit your head with that hammer as well as your thumb?"

Kid gave his chortling cousin a withering look. "What I want to know is... Why does Sheriff Welby want us to come into town... to his office... where the jail cells are... when he could have paid us last night after supper?"

Heyes shrugged. "Maybe he needed to go to the bank. Lawmen don't get paid as much as you think, y' know." He looked down at the dog trotting happily alongside them. "Tell you what we're gonna do, Kid. First, we're gonna collect our money. Then, we're gonna find a nice quiet town where we can have a few drinks, play a little poker and ...uh...romance a pretty girl or two. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like one of your better plans," Kid agreed, grudgingly.

"What do you mean 'one of my better plans'? All my plans are good plans."

As Kid raised his eyebrows questioningly, Heyes added. "I'll admit some of my ideas might not always work out, but my plans are fine!"

The moment he pushed open the door to the Sheriff's office Heyes realized that his idea to let Otis tag along may not have been one of his better ones for the dog ran straight past him and, once again, sat down under their Wanted posters. Kid's keen eyes searched hopefully for any sign of a hopper but, if there was one, he certainly couldn't see it.

"What are you two doing here?" asked the Sheriff as he looked up from his paperwork. "I wasn't expecting you to ride over 'til later."

Heyes managed to smile through his first nervous swallow in two weeks. "Well, if it's all the same to you, Sheriff, we thought we'd collect our pay and head on out. It's a long ride over to Fishers Ridge and we'd like to be there before sun-down."

"Sure." The Sheriff pulled open the top drawer of his desk and reached in with his right hand.

From where he was standing Kid saw Heyes' shoulders stiffen. He wished his own right hand was resting on his Colt but instead, and with no small effort, he kept his thumbs — even the bruised one — hooked in the front of his gun belt.

Withdrawing his hand, Sheriff Welby smiled broadly as he passed each of them a small, neat roll of dollar bills. Unusually, neither man counted it, they just stuffed it into their jacket pockets.

"Considering you fellas ain't carpenters by trade you've done a mighty fine job, so I've added a small bonus in there for each of you."

Both men hastily shook the lawman's hand. "Thank you very much Sheriff. We'll be on our way now," said Heyes, tipping his hat and edging his way toward the door.

"Anytime you fellas are in these parts feel free to drop by. I know Louis and Sylvie would be real pleased to see you. Otis too."

Politely touching his forefinger to the brim of his brown hat Kid followed his partner to the hitching rail where they swung themselves up into their saddles. Sheriff Welby strolled out onto the boardwalk to watch as, with a wave and a smile, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry turned their horses and headed out of town.

Otis sat at his master's feet watching their dust trail disappear into the distance. Raising his wet, black nose in the air he took two...long...deep...sniffs.