The next day Jim was still looking around rather starry-eyed at the miners and cowboys. The spectacle of the man he knew as Joshua Smith playing poker, cool as a cucumber, in a real western saloon remained a wonder to Jim. Indeed, Joshua Smith stood out among everyone in the place, it seemed to Jim – and not just because he was temporary floor manager during the holidays. As Smith walked across the saloon floor Jim noted that every person there, even Thaddeus Jones, gave him a look of respect. Smith had an air of easy but unquestioned command that Jim had not encountered before – except from the top gang leaders of New York. This afternoon Jim took a break from poker for a while. He spent the time hanging out at the bar, swapping stories with Joe the bartender and Kyle and a couple of weather-beaten miners who were passing through. Heyes and the Kid were involved in a pretty intense poker game. At first they cringed with practically every syllable traded between Kyle and Jim – sure that Jim would embarrass Heyes and Kyle would give away both partners.
Kyle was full of questions, "What's this place Central Park that H . . . Joshua tells me about? A park big enough to ride horses in?"
"More than b-b-big enough! You c-c-could have fifty d-d-different g-g-guys r-r-ride f-f-fifty horses in fifty d-d-different p-p-places in C-C-Central P-P-Park and never meet all d-d-day!"
"That can't be true!" cried Kyle. Jim laughed – of course he was exaggerating but not very much.
But gradually Heyes and the Kid got so involved in their poker game that they forgot about Kyle and Jim. As the afternoon wore on and the stakes rose at the table near the door where Smith and Jones were playing, a pair of dusty men ambled in and took seats at another poker table behind the Kid. Heyes, involved in a sizable pot he was on the verge of winning from a pair of wealthy local mine owners and their foremen, took little notice. Just another pair of toughs, he thought. A couple of locals who had been waiting at the bar in hopes that more players would arrive moved over to the new table and started a game of five-card stud.
As the sun moved into the West, the voices at the new table began to grow warm and it became apparent that there was a serious disagreement between the rough-looking out-of-towners and the local men. Heyes looked up at the combative players across from him. He looked at the Kid, who was sitting across from him with his back to the troubled table, and raised his eyebrows almost undetectably in a look the Kid recognized instantly as a very discrete warning. Heyes shifted his eyes to indicate the two toughs at the loud table behind the Kid and Heyes' eyes grew just slightly wide and his jaw very tight – the Kid knew that this meant real trouble. Now the Kid recognized two of the raised voices, too, and he knew why Heyes was so worried. Things were escalating rapidly and there was the sound of chairs being pushed back. No guns had been drawn yet, but there could be no doubt that violence was coming soon. The Kid whispered very, very softly but urgently to the four miners at his table, without taking his eyes off of Heyes, "Take the pot and go, gentlemen. Now – quietly." The men nodded discretely, their eyes shifting repeatedly to the table next door.
Heyes said in a normal tone of voice, "Ah, you got it boys. That's enough for me." He tossed down his cards. "How about you, Thaddeus?"
"That's too rich for my blood, Joshua." The Kid threw in his cards. He and Heyes left their money on the table. The Kid and then Heyes stood slowly to bid their fellow players good-bye. The miners got up and said farewell a little too loudly and walked out the door just a little too quickly for Heyes' and the Kid's taut nerves and long experience. Thank goodness the troubled table was not between Heyes and Kid's table and the door. The partners exchanged a look that told both men the plan – and made it clear that they both knew they were probably about to go down hard, one way or another.
The Kid shot a brief troubled glance at Cat as a ripple of fear swept across the saloon floor. He knew that she would get everyone to safety if he and Heyes couldn't stop the gunfight that seemed inevitable. Cat quickly herded three working girls off the floor into the back room. The locals they had deserted, hearing the rising tide of anger at the strangers' table, took the excuse to leave. Cat gestured to the bar tender to be ready to hit the deck. The bar tender grabbed the dumb-struck Jim and pulled him behind the bar. Kyle dashed out the door – he knew the out-of-towners as well as Heyes and the Kid did and for the same reasons. The piano player was off on break in back, so he was in no danger. Cat vanished into the back room, giving the Kid a last anxious look. The busy time of evening was an hour or more away, thank goodness. Heyes, seeing that everyone who could be was clear, took a deep breath. He got to his feet and so did the Kid.
Heyes stood about three yards behind the two grimy out-of-towners, with the Kid just in front of him and to his right. Both men had their hands on their gun grips. Even at that moment, the two out-of-towners got to their feet and their hands started toward their guns as their opponents pushed back their chairs and looked up in fear.
"Stop!" said Heyes, cocking his own gun as the Kid cocked his. The strangers, hearing the cocking of guns behind them, did stop, with their hands clear of their guns. "Hold it right there, boys." said Heyes loudly and firmly. "Hands up. Now."
The black bearded Grover Teasdale and his brother Aloysius put their hands up, very slowly. The Teasdales slowly turned. They found two grim-faced men, guns drawn, facing them. With the sun coming near to setting outside the bar's windows, Heyes and the Kid were back lit. They just prayed that two of their fiercest outlaw rivals from Wyoming might somehow fail recognize them. The Teasdales were murders countless times over and had always openly despised the far more peaceable Devil's Hole boys. The two challenged men glared and seemed, indeed, not to be able to identify their two challengers. "Who's ordering us around?" asked Grover Teasdale in a deep baritone voice drenched in hostility.
"I am," said Heyes, "and my partner. And what we've got to say is, get out of here now - before you regret riling us."
The Teasdales both laughed. "Who do you think you . . ." Grover Teasdale paused. Then he went on in a loud, rasping voice, "Heyes and the Kid. I heard you'd gone straight. But then, I heard Heyes was dead – shot in the head they said. I almost believed it until I heard about that job you pulled in Lodge Grass last month and saw the $15,000.00 wanted posters they just put out on you both – just today over in Boulder my boys tell me. They don't raise the bounty on dead men or men gone straight. So put up those guns and let us alone. I know you don't kill – you never would. Damn fools."
"I wouldn't bank on it, Teasdale," said Heyes in a voice that somehow remained clear and steady. "What do you think, Kid?"
"I think they wouldn't be alive to leave that table unless they keep their hands up and walk out that door real slow. Then ride off and never come back." Four pairs of eyes met and smoldered for a long, long moment.
"You heard the Kid," growled Heyes. "Get out of here and get out now!"
Slowly, silently, and with furious faces and infinite reluctance, the Teasdales took the Kid's and Heyes' advice to the letter.
As soon as the Teasdales were truly gone and their horses could be heard galloping away, Heyes exhaled, "Je-sus!" and collapsed into a chair. "It's been too long since we did that – I didn't know if we still had it." The Kid started to laugh nervously as he realized how close they, and the men at the table, if not more people, had come to violent death.
Joe the bartender reappeared from behind the bar with a wide-eyed Jim next to him. "I d-d-don't believe it. You aren't r-r-really . . ." began Jim, as Joe poured a pair of whiskeys and took them to Heyes and the Kid. They knocked them back with gusto.
Kyle stuck his head back in the door and said, rather loudly, interrupting Jim, "Heyes, it is good to see you lookin' and soundin' so well. And you, too, Kid. But I think I better light out while the lightin' out is good. I sure don't want to meet those two in a dark alley or a light one neither. They might be back with more boys any time!"
"Thanks, Kyle, thanks a lot!" yelled Heyes in fury, "The folks here weren't sure of our real names. Thanks for making real sure we get a free trip to Wyoming – to the territorial prison! If you don't want to join us, I think you'd better go on your way."
"Heyes, you forget, you don't have the right to order me around no more!" exclaimed Kyle indignantly.
"Kyle, get out that door. Now." said the Kid very quietly but very firmly, with his hand on his gun grip.
"Yes sir!"exclaimed Kyle quickly as he vanished out the door. Minutes later they heard his horse galloping frantically away from the livery stable. Heyes and the Kid laughed, but not with any real humor. They both took their pistols by two fingers each and put them on the table with a pair of ominous clicks of steel on wood. "OK, when you going to cash us in, Joe?" asked Heyes in a resigned monotone. The Kid tried to avoid Cat's appalled eyes.
"Miss Catherine," asked Joe matter-of-factly. "Do you want us to turn in Mr. Curry and Mr. Heyes to the law?"
"By no means!" said Cat with calm emphasis.
"Put your guns back in your holsters, Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith," said Joe with a smile. The change of names made it clear. The only employee who had heard Heyes and Curry's real names had no intention of using them. The men whose lives they had saved quickly switched back to calling the boys Smith and Jones, too, as they expressed their thanks and left, eager to be gone long before the Teasdales could return with reinforcements. Heyes and the Kid looked up at Joe and gave him little smiles of thanks. They knew they weren't out of the woods - not by a long chalk.
Sheriff Wilde stuck his head in the door. "Was that the Teasdale Brothers I just saw ride out of here like the devil was after them?"
"It was," said the Kid. "Heyes here ordered them off and off they went."
"Knowing it was your gun pointed at them, Kid," added Heyes proudly.
Wilde looked back and forth between the partners. "You think they got more men outside town?"
"I'd bet on it," said Heyes grimly. "And they'll be here in no time if you don't give them good reason not to."
Wilde nodded "That's how I see it, so we're after them right now."
"You want me in the posse?" asked the Kid.
"'Course not! They'd shoot you straight off. We're after them now – you boys wait a few minutes for us all to get clear, then ride off and don't come back for a good while. Wire me, Kid, and let me know where you are – I'll let you know when you're good to come back. Alright?"
"Yes, sir!" The Kid finally was pleased with his association with Sheriff Wilde, "You think you've got the men to get 'em, once their other boys join in?"
"Probably not – only got one in town I can trust with your names, Kid – Jake is out riding to Denver for me - so stay clear. Now we got to ride. Good luck!"
"And to you boys!" answered the Kid.
"Bonne courage!" added Heyes for good measure as the sheriff vanished out the door.
"Bon what?" Asked Cat.
"That's French for good luck." Heyes grinned. He did enjoy showing off his new sophistication sometimes, much as it baffled his western friends. Right now, it helped to raise his spirits that were frankly in his boots.
"You ain't no reg'lar outlaw no more, that's for sure and certain, Heyes." said the Kid. "I just hope you're in shape to ride far and fast, cause we're gonna have to."
It was a few minutes before the saloon girls and the piano player returned and a few customers found their way back in, since they hadn't heard any guns fired. Soon the saloon seemed to return to normal, although a kind of stunned silence hung in the background. The piano player sat down and started to play "Camptown Races" and a poker game started at a back table. Joe poured drinks for two locals who had just walked in, unaware of the drama they had so narrowly missed.
Meanwhile Heyes and the Kid repaired to the back room, where Cat and Jim joined them. "Ch-Christ! You r-really are Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry?" asked Jim in amazement, looking from one to the other.
"Yeah, Jim," said Heyes wearily, running one hand through his long hair to get it out of his eyes. He was cringing to think of the hero-worshipping drivel he could expect from his former roommate, the obsessive reader of western dime novels
But Heyes was seriously mistaken. Jim was so incensed that he hardly stuttered. "When you moved into my r-room you let me think you were all innocent and a gang had k-k-killed your folks like they did mine. And you let me tell you all about gang leaders – and you are one!"
"Was one, Jim," said Heyes, even more wearily. "And a gang did kill our parents and our brothers and sisters. A gang of Kansas border thugs. And we do hate that life. Four years we've been straight. Won't give it up now."
"You let me go on about hating gangs and you agreed! You let me get to trust you and show you around and keep you safe and you never told me . . . !" Jim was warming into being really mad.
"Come on, Jim," Heyes barked, growing annoyed. "Could I have told you, at first? Could I? Could I have told anyone anything?"
Jim shook his head, but still wore an angry flush.
"And when I could have told you, would you have believed me?" asked Heyes angrily.
Jim looked down and flushed red. "I g-guess not. But still . . ."
"I'm sorry Jim. I really am sorry." said Heyes in a very regretful voice hardly above a whisper. "You can't know how sorry I am about all of it – every day of it. We didn't ever want to hurt anyone. It was steal or starve at first. Then, I admit it, when we found out how good we were at it and how much money we could take, it was way too easy to keep stealing, Then we figured out how wrong it was and gave it all up."
"You expect me to b-b-believe that, Josh? I mean Heyes? That you j-j-just all of s-s-sudden thought it was wrong and g-g-gave it up?" said Jim, still incensed.
"You were right the first time. Heyes is a long time ago, now."
"You'd r-r-really g-g-give up y-y-your own name?" Jim was starting to see Heyes and the Kid's side of things.
Heyes explained, "I'd be glad if it could be clean. But it never can, not now. We went straight two years before I met you, but we're still wanted. We got an offer of amnesty if we stayed clean, but it's never come through. I don't guess it ever will. We'll be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. Now that they've raised the . . . bounty, probably won't be that long. Especially since the . . . Teasdales know where we are and who we are." Heyes was fighting his aphasia a little on the unfamiliar words and names. He was profoundly grateful that he had had no trouble speaking when he had confronted the Teasdales. He felt himself shaking a little in relieved retrospect.
"We can't delay any longer, Kid." Heyes was tense and serious, starting toward the stairs to collect his gear. "They'll be back any time with reinforcements if they can get around the sheriff – looking for us. I just hope they won't bother anyone here if we're gone. We'll get as far gone as we can and hope to avoid the Teasdales. And if they get past the Sheriff and find us, we can hope we can draw them off at least. Don't want them back here!"
The Kid nodded and said, "Wonder how many other boys they might have someplace close? Guess we'll find out soon enough, Heyes."
While Heyes gathered his few things, Cat packed fresh food for the boys and tucked extra money in the Kid's pocket.
"Now you head on home, Jim, on tomorrow's train," Heyes told his former roommate firmly, when he had arrived back downstairs with full saddlebags.
"I'll stay and guard C-C-Cat!" said Jim stoutly. "You t-t-taught me to shoot yourself!"
Heyes shook his head firmly and told Jim, "No, Jim! You take the train back to New York tomorrow! Don't you wait! Nothing you can do against those guys – they'll have bunch of men back of them. I respect your shooting and your courage, but don't be a damn fool. You got to carry the news to Dr. Leutze – make sure they know trouble could be coming. When we can get far enough ahead of the Teasdales, we'll head to New York. They just might follow, if they're able to find out more than I hope."
"I c-c-can . . ." Jim started to protest, but the Kid stopped him.
"Look, Jim, you're forgettin' who's talkin' to you. This is Hannibal Heyes! The real deal! Heyes knows what he's talkin' about. He's the best. If he says go back to New York, that's what you go to do. Alright, Jim?"
Jim finally gave in. "Alright, K-K-Kid. I'll go b-b-back."
The boys went to the stable and picked out a pair of good horses, but not their favorites. They might well have to ride the horses they chose to death on this chase, and that was no fate for Clay and Blackie. And besides, Clay and Blackie weren't the youngest and strongest horses in Cat's stable any longer.
Cat held the Kid and wept and tried not to let him go. The Kid kissed her quickly and then broke gently away from her arms to mount up. "Good bye, Cat, honey," the Kid said from the back of a fuzzy bay gelding. "Don't know when I'll be back – but I will be. We will be. Be sure of that!"
"Take care of the place and the folks, Cat," Heyes called down from the buckskin mare he had chosen, trying to keep his tone light, "We're countin' on a safe home to come back to, when it's all over."
Then the boys turned their horses and loped away down the street. It had been a long time since Heyes and the Kid had ridden together like this. They looked grimly at each other. The sun would be setting soon and they had to put in a few miles before the mountains grew dark and deadly cold. These were the very mountains from which they had first come into Cat's life more than two years before, when Heyes' head wound had still been bloody.