The End of the Line

Chapter 2

Saturday – Mid Morning

The conductor made his way through the railroad cars. He opened the door to the last passenger car and stopped just inside to study the occupants. Finding the men he sought, the railroad employee started down the aisle.

Lom Trevors stared anxiously out the window at the passing southern Wyoming landscape. He knew the train was speeding along the tracks but he would have sworn he could have walked faster. Time seemed to be racing along while the passing miles conversely appeared to be going by at a slow crawl. He patted his pocket every now and then to reassure himself that the all-important papers were still safely tucked away. His friends' lives depended upon him to get to Lonetree in time. Guilt weighed on his conscience that he was not persuasive enough in his mission to sway the governor to honor his promise earlier. That this race against the ticking clock was even necessary churned the acid in his gut.

The two U.S. Marshals assigned to accompany Lom Trevors on his race across the territory sat across from the sheriff. One, John Walters, sat relaxed in his seat, studying the sheriff, mulling over all he knew of the man and the outlaws at the end of the line. At the end of the line in more ways than one, he thought. Marshal Walters tapped his foot unconsciously, willing the train to move faster, as he realigned his life's work with his belief that this job assignment served justice. Marshal Irwin Storz glowered out at the country with his arms crossed over his chest. In the almost thirty years as a marshal, this was a first and he had trouble believing what he was being tasked to do. Marshal Storz had personally led possess across the territory chasing Heyes and Curry, one only last year. He would have happily boasted if he put a bullet into Kid Curry and gloated about escorting Heyes to prison. It was slightly galling to be sent to save their hides and protect them from harm.

The conductor arrived at his targeted seats. All three seated men looked deep in thought and none acknowledged his presence. He cleared his throat," Excuse me. This Western Express Train is not scheduled to stop until Salt Lake City but we have been directed to make an unscheduled stop in McKinnon." The railroad employee glanced down at the open pocket watch in his hand. He snapped the lid closed on the timepiece. "We should be there in about 5 minutes. We're keeping all passengers on board so after you gentleman off load yourselves and your horses we can be on our way again without too much of change in our schedule."

Lom heaved a sigh. "Finally," he muttered as he shot to his feet, hitting his head on the metal overhead luggage rack. He didn't even wince. "Thanks, we'll be right quick about getting off and on our way." The sheriff responded as he reached up for his saddle bags. The marshals rose more slowly and gathered their few belongings. The sheriff scooted past the other lawmen and hurried down the aisle to wait at the railroad car door, bending down and peering out the window at the slowing landscape.

Marshal Storz followed Walters into the aisle. He laid a hand on Walters' shoulder to stop him for a moment. "I knew about the amnesty program. I even supported the general idea. I heard the rumors, of course, about Heyes and Curry trying to go straight but amnesty was meant for small time crooks not big-time outlaws like those two. I can't figure out what we're doing here." Marshal Storz whispered furiously to his colleague when Walters turned around.

Walters glanced back a Lom Trevors before focusing on the Marshal next to him. He knew of Storz, who was supposedly a no-nonsense, dedicated lawmen towards the end of his career but he had no personal experience with the man. "From what I was told and what I can surmise is that we are trying to save the life a man who was wrongly convicted of murder based solely on who he is and what he has done in the past. Although, that really doesn't fit with what we know of him. First, him and Heyes usually rob banks in the dead of night when there is no one around. Second, Curry is known for not shooting first, never has committed murder, and for being pretty attentive and respectful of women. Not the recent past, though, because apparently Heyes and Curry have really gone straight for some years now. The governor feels they deserve a second chance at life and maybe they do. I know I would prefer them on our side of the law, wouldn't you?" Walters looked straight into Storz's eyes and tried to gauge if his fellow marshal would be a help or a hinderance at would undoubtably be situation fraught with tension and heightened emotions among the expected crowd for the hanging.

Storz humprffed but held in any further opinions on the matter.

The train slowed as it came into the McKinnon station for the unscheduled stop. Lom jumped from the railcar before the train came to a full stop and was off jogging down the small station platform towards the stock car carrying their horses. The two marshals hurried to catch up with him. The lawmen had the three horses saddled, loaded, and mounted before the train started to slowly chug out of the station. They were soon cantering out of town on the road towards Lonetree, Wyoming with the sheriff leading the way.

~~~~~~~~~~ASJ~~~~~~~~~~

Sheriff Lom Trevors was singularly focused on the road ahead, the cadence of the horses' strides marking the passage of the time and miles. The marshals had stationed themselves at either side of the sheriff. The triangle of riders narrowed as the town approached and the main thoroughfare came into view.

Trevors looked up from the hard packed, dry dirt road in front of him. Structures and figures resolved into discrete discernable objects. The gallows erected in the center of town now dominated the view. He briefly caught sight of his friend's dark blond curls before a black hood obscured them. Lom swallowed hard and spurred his horse to give all it could in the race against time. The galloping hooves of three horses pounded into town, causing some of the crowd to react to the vibrations felt by their feet and look behind them. People started to point at the oncoming disturbance but then they quickly refocused on the gallows, not wanting to miss the moment of Kid Curry's drop.

The horses barely slowed as they raced into town, scattering onlookers and opportunistic vendors in their way. The lead horse skidded to a stop at the foot of the gallows as the rider yelled at the top of his lungs, "Stop! Stop the hanging!" The two marshals reached the gallows moments after. From horseback Marshal John Walters shouted, "By the order of Governor of Wyoming a stay of execution has been granted." The crowd surrounding the three interlopers stilled for a moment at this unexpected development. The three out of town lawmen hastily dismounted and made for the gallows stairs.

The two Lonetree deputies and preacher all turned towards the gallows stairs with dropped jaws and eyes wide in surprise and disbelief. The Lonetree sheriff turned, his face red with annoyance and eyes narrowed with determination, pulling the lever to the trap door as he faced the oncoming men. The majority of the crowd roared their approval, drowning out the few horrified cries of dissent.

"NOOOOO! KID, NO!" Lom let an agonized yell out as he abruptly turned and sped down the stairs.

Marshal Walters' hand shot to his belt and withdrew a knife from its case. He used all his strength to saw through the thick hemp as quickly as he could, the ends fraying apart rapidly as he worked. The Lonetree Sheriff came charging around the open trapdoor to yank Marshal Water's hands from the rope. Marshal Storz grabbed hold of the hangman's shoulders and physically pulled him off his colleague. Then Marshal Storz slapped the written official Stay of Execution into the Lonetree's sheriff's chest., who dropped his arms to catch the document. Storz drew his revolver and adopted a vigilant stance to quell any attempts to go through with Kid Curry's execution by any other means.

The frayed rope finally parted completely, and the Kid's body dropped into Lom Trevor's waiting arms. Both men fell to the ground in a heap. Lom rolled and righted himself. He laid the Kid out flat on the ground, fingers clumsily fumbling to loosen the noose in haste. Lom's heart raced as he simultaneously bent his head to his friend's chest while the fingers of his right hand tried to palpate a pulse. "I can't feel a heartbeat," he wailed to himself.

Walters skidded to a stop and dropped to his knees beside Lom. "Take the hood off. Let me try." John Walters laid a hand on the chest as well as an ear. "He's not breathing but I can hear a heartbeat. It's slow and faint but it's there," he informed the sheriff.

Lom grabbed Curry by the shoulders and shook him hard. "Breath. Damn it, breath Kid! BREATH!." He panted as his anxiety spiraled up when the Kid's features remained slack and lifeless. The movements of the two men trying to revive the hanged man became frenzied. Curry's chest remained still. In desperation, Trevors slapped Kid's dusky gray-blue face hard, then pounded a fist in the middle of the blond's chest. "Come on! No, it can't end like this."

Kid Curry's body shuddered as his back arched and he let out a sudden loud gasp. The first long strained gasp was soon followed by another shorter gulp of air then another as his breathing evened out into a regular fast shallow rhythm. The Kid retched. Trevors and Walters turned the unconscious man on his side. John Walters cut the rope from around the bound man's wrists. They kept him on his side as bile dribbled from the mouth when the stomach heaved in spasms.

Lom rocked back on his heels and studied the bruised and battered condition of his friend. The ghostly gray skin started to pink up. What looked like tiny purple and dark red pin pricks were abundant across the Kid's eyelids, around the eyes and mouth and across the nose, giving the areas an overall red-purplish hue. He lunged forward again to grab hold of Curry's arms when they shot uncoordinatedly to reflexively grab at his own neck. Kid's eyes fluttered wide open in panic. Blood red eyes stared straight ahead, not fully aware.

"Take it easy, Kid. Concentrate on taking deep slow breaths. Give me a breath. Now another. That's it, nice and slow." Lom soothed.

Bloodshot blue eyes focused with dawning understanding on the face looming in the field of vison. "Not dead?" he managed to croak with difficulty.

Lom's mustache quirked up in a relieved smile. "Nearly dead but no, not dead. You're very much alive, Kid. And we're going to do our damnest to have you stay that way."

Curry's face clouded in confusion. He breathed out in a barely audible hoarse rasp. "I hanged. I know I did. How?"

The smile disappeared from Lom's face. "The short version is me and two marshals were sent by the governor with a stay of execution and your amnesty. We didn't get here in time to prevent the hanging entirely but in time to get you breathing again."

Kid's eyelids were drooping in exhaustion, but he struggled to keep them open for one last question. He forced out, "Heyes, too?"

"Heyes, too. His sentence was nullified, the verdict will be vacated. You were both granted amnesties. There are other legal things that need to be taken care of but that's a discussion for later."

"He alright?" The blond mouthed before succumbing to the pull of unconsciousness.

Lom glanced around; his face clouded with concern. He mumbled to himself, "I hope he's alright or as alright he can be. We'll find out soon enough."

John Walters grinned and gave himself a little shake. He was a bit surprised how good it felt to know they were successful in stopping an unjust hanging. His smile vanished quickly when he realized that this was only part of what they would be dealing with in the coming days. He peered down at the ex-outlaw on the ground before him before meeting Lom Trevor's eyes. "We need to get him inside, medical attention if we can, and then we better collect Heyes and get out of town, pronto." His ears started to tune into the grumblings and unease of the crowd. "It's a safe bet, we aren't going to popular for what just happened. And they may not want to listen calmly." He became aware of the excited chattering of the nearby journalists and the flash of pictures being taken of the scene below the gallows. Walters and Trevors brows furrowed in serious consideration of their positions.

From his vantage point on the gallows platform, Marshal Storz kept a wary eye on the crowd. He indicated with a wave of his gun for the Lonetree officials to congregate on the side of the open trapdoor away from the gallows stairs. The Lonetree sheriff grasped the stay of execution in his hand, barely able to keep himself from crumpling it into a ball and throwing it back at the marshal. His face was purple with rage, and he sputtered incoherently a mixture of obscenities and threats. Only the marshal's very visible large badge kept the sheriff in some semblance of control. The two deputies were staring through the open trapdoor to the drama happening below. Expression of disbelief warred with disgust on the two junior lawmen's faces. The clergyman stood clutching his bible to his chest, his praying silenced.

"Now gentlemen, this is what's going to happen. The Governor of Wyoming expects your cooperation. You don't have to like what we're doing but you will follow our orders." Marsal Storz declared authoritatively, adding under his breath," just like me" and a little louder "All will be explained in due time when everyone attending the hanging goes back about their business and the rest of you are ready to listen calmly."

"John?" Marshal Storz called.

"Yeah Irwin, Curry's alive. The drop didn't break his neck and he didn't hang long enough to strangle completely."

"Good. The sheriff, the reverend, one of the deputies, and I will disperse the crowd. I'm sending the second deputy to help you move the Kid into the jail. That should be a secure location until we can move them out." Marshal Irwin Storz turned back to the waiting men on the platform and indicated that they should descend the gallows stairs before him.

~~~~~~~~~~ASJ~~~~~~~~~~~

The rise and fall of the crowd's cheers filtered through the jail's wall to the lone occupant of the building. After the initial loud roar after his partner was escorted to the town square Hannibal Heyes paced in a never-ending circuit in the small jail cell, with shoulders dropped and downcast eyes. His tan completion paled as the minutes ticked by. Every so often he raised anguished eyes to the door, wanting and not wanting with equal fever to know what was happening outside. The jail door swung open with a bang. Heyes spun towards the door with his expression full of trepidation.

The deputy rushed through the entrance and hastened to open the door of the cell that Kid Curry previously occupied. The back of vaguely familiar man shuffled backwards into the jail, hands at the end of blue clad sleeves dangled from the crooks of the familiar man's arms. A marshal had hold of the thighs, a pair of scuffed cowboy boots at the end of limp denim clad lower legs dragged along the ground. Acid churned in Heyes' empty stomach.

Soon it was obvious to the distraught prisoner that two men were carrying the Kid's lifeless body and they meant to deposit him in the cell next to Heyes. The first man looked over his shoulder to check where he was heading. Heyes snorted bitterly in recognition.

The dark-haired outlaw involuntarily moaned in despair. He stepped up to the bars and gripped them hard, half in support to keep him upright and half in rage. His knuckles whitened around the iron as he silently watched. Reddened eyes narrowed and moistened as Heyes couldn't help but stare at his partner's body. He briefly thought he saw the Kid take a breath but then shook his head viciously to dispel the hopeful sight. He was certain his mind was playing tricks. "Lom, came for the hanging, did you?"

Lom Trevors glanced to his side and his eyes, turbulent with his own roiling emotions, met the dark maelstrom visible in his friend's face. "Heyes. He's alive. The Kid is alive, he hanged but we cut him down in time to get him breathing again. He opened his eyes, spoke a few words, and knew what happened. He asked about you." The partner's mentor lowered the younger man gently onto the cot. He straightened up and fully faced the furious older half of the ex-outlaw duo, while resting a hand lightly on the blond's chest to reassure himself of continuous breathing.

The man with a marshal's star standing in the other cell looked through the bars. "I'm Marshal John Walters, sent by the Governor with Sheriff Trevors and Marshal Storz with a stay of execution. We barely made it in time. Your partner has suffered some injuries as a result of the hanging."

Heyes interrupted angrily, "Add those to the ones the people in this town already inflicted on him."

Marshal Walters exited the open cell on his way to check on the situation in the town square. He grabbed the incredulous deputy by the arm in passing. "We need a doctor. Go get one."

Heyes spat out indignantly, "Good luck with that, there isn't one in this miserable town. The only doctor around is one town over, about half a day away at a slow ride. We were already in custody when the sheriff shot the Kid. Said he didn't want to take the chance of him escaping and then the deputies and posse were all over him like fleas on a dog. They worked him over while he was down. They only got that doc to come so that he wouldn't die before the hanging. They found a judge first. Had to make it official what they already decided the minute we were recognized."

The deputy nodded his agreement at the outraged outlaw's outburst. He remained where he was hoping to be ignored.

The rise and fall of excited conversation and the grumblings of angry townspeople reached John Walters' ears when he stepped outside. He nodded in satisfaction upon spying the crowd being sent on their way by town's authority figures. The charged atmosphere in the town square dissipated as activity returned to that of a normal busy Saturday. Walters shook his head when Marshal Storz was surrounded by gesturing journalists, photographers, and upset Lonetree council members. Storz seemed to be in control of the situation, so Walters stepped back into the jail.

Lom looked down at Curry on the cot and consciously noticed for the first time the bloodied bandage on the right thigh. The purplish bruising glimpsed on Kid's torso through the torn shirt as well as numerous small cuts, blood-streaked face, swollen lip and eye, and bruises. Noting that the knuckles were smooth he could surmise that Curry wasn't given the opportunity to fight back. Lom's eyes traveled to the whitened knuckles still grasping the bars with signs of bruising, reddened wrist rope burns, and up to the cords of tension visible in Heyes' neck. He guessed that Hannibal Heyes objected to his friend's treatment.

Kid's awareness slowly returned. He kept his eyes closed while he assessed his surroundings. He heard Heyes' strained and bitter voice, felt a warm, light weight on his chest, and opened his eyes expecting to see his partner. Seeing Lom Trevors instead, he rolled onto his side, managed to prop himself up on one elbow. "Heyes?" The one quiet high-pitched rasp caused all eyes to shoot to the occupied cot. The Kid struggled to swing himself into a sitting position as his eyes sought to obey his psyche's need for solace in his lifelong friend.

"Kid, I'm here." Heyes responded in a voice tight with controlled emotion. He growled at Lom, "Well, what's going to happen now? Is the Kid joining me in prison for a lifetime of hell on earth or are you going to hang him later in Cheyenne in a bigger show for all the real important folks."

Lom drew back, hurt at the thought that Heyes would think he would willingly participate in such plans. The flustered man flushed in the realization that he neglected to tell his understandably agitated and confused friend why he was in Lonetree. "What? No. No, that's not why we're here. Heyes, I'm sorry. I told the Kid when he first regained consciousness, but I forgot to let you know. The governor came through on his promise. Late but luckily not too late."

Marshal Walters spoke up. "Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry, If you will allow me to explain. From what I can surmise Sheriff Trevors has been acting on your behalf since the news of your capture, immediate trial and sentencing was known. He has had little food or rest since then and has been on edge the entire time I have been with him from about four this morning. He is not at his best as I'm sure you can understand." John Walters lightly backhanded the deputy's chest. "You want to open, no let me put it another way. Open Heyes' cell. He is now a free man. Heyes and Curry received an amnesty from the Governor of the Territory of Wyoming. The verdict is being vacated."

The astounded deputy stood there in indecision before four menacing glares had him fumbling at the desk drawer for the cell keys. He hastened to unlock Heyes' cell and stepped back quickly, retreating to the far corner of the jail. Heyes shot the deputy a hard cold side eye as he hurried to his partner's side. Lom stepped away in deference to Heyes but remained close at hand.

A commotion at the door of the jail had all the men inside looking that way. Marshal Irwin Storz was shoving the Lonetree sheriff through the door with the deputy trailing the two senior lawmen. Marshal Walters came to join his colleague.

"Now, sit down and let me talk." Storz barked at the Lonetree officers of the local law. The local law all sat in the chairs around the sheriff's desk. The sheriff crossed his arms across his chest in a defiant posture with eyes shooting daggers at the two ex-outlaws sitting side by side in one of his open cells. The deputies leaned slightly forward in their seats. The one who assisted with bringing the Kid in after the debacle of an execution would not meet anyone's eyes and concentrated on the floorboards of the building. The interior of the jail was silent, the only noise was that of Curry's strangely high-pitched rough breathing and the miscellaneous noise of the town getting back to the normal Saturday business.

A not entirely unsympathetic gaze touched upon the newly amnestied men. Storz reflected silently that the men looked as if they had both reached the end of their emotional and physical endurance. However, the more he studied the two men the more he could almost believe they were drawing strength from each other. It showed in their physical closeness, the straightening postures, the smoothing of their facial expressions and a spark of alert intelligence in previously guarded flat eyes. Heyes changed from projecting fury to a watchful thoughtfulness. Curry became unreadable but there was no mistaking that those bloodshot blue eyes were observing and evaluating everything.

Marshal Storz cleared his throat and began. "As the senior law here. I'm taking charge by the authority of the Governor of Wyoming. Pay attention and let us get through this then we can answer any questions." He withdrew a sheaf of papers from his interior jacket pocket, leafed through them and placed the correct document on the desk. He gestured to Lom Trevors. "Sheriff Trevors of Porterville, Wyoming, has been acting as the sponsor for Hannibal Heyes and Jedidiah Curry with the Government of Wyoming. He has possession of the official amnesty papers."

Lom turned and brandished an envelope for each of the partners. Heyes' eyes met Lom's as he reached for his envelop. Both men let genuine smiles grace their serious faces for a moment as Heyes half rose to shake his friend's hand firmly. Heyes added in a sheepish undertone, "I shoulda known, you would try to help us." Lom kept hold of Heyes' hand a little longer than necessary as he gruffly answered to cover his own unsettled feelings. "Yeah, you shoulda. I've been on your side once the two of you convinced me you were serious about the amnesty." He let go and stepped in front of Kid Curry.

Lom crouched down to look Kid in the eyes as he placed the envelope into Curry's trembling now hot hand. "I'm so sorry I wasn't able to get this to you sooner, Kid." The blond let his glassy feverish gaze convey his gratitude without having to put it words. It hurt to talk and was becoming difficult to swallow. The younger man painfully straightened his spine and slightly tilted forward supporting his torso with straight arms and hands on his knees, most of the weight on the left.

Storz loud voice drew attention back to the senior marshal. "I've read the Governor's statement aloud to the mayor, town council and the press. A copy of the written statement has been released by the Governor's office in Cheyenne to be distributed to the press and a shorter version has been distributed to all relevant law enforcement agencies. The rewards have been rescinded and the financial backers of said reward have been notified." His eyes traveled to the prominently displayed wanted posters for Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes.

The Sheriff of Lonetree sat rigid in his seat, hearing but not really listening to the senior marshal's words. He silently stewed on what was to him frustrated justice. He jumped in the chair at the touch of a heavy hand on his shoulder. Marshal Storz was right beside him.

The marshal's attention centered on the Sheriff of Lonetree and his voice softened in sincerity. "I'm sorry for your loss. I understand your anger and hatred of bank robbers. But hanging Kid Curry won't get you and the town the justice you deserve for this unforgivable crime. Heyes and Curry are innocent of this bank robbery and Kid Curry did not murder your daughter-in-law and her unborn child. I have been directed to take over the investigation into the robbery and murder. I pledge to you that I will do my utmost best to apprehend the real culprits and see them brought to justice, legally and by the book."

"They really didn't do it? We were so sure." One of the deputies mumbled to the other.

"No. It was impossible for them to be in Lonetree at the time of the crime. That has been verified. It was an unfortunate circumstance that they were in the area when you found them."

"An unfortunate circumstance…" Heyes huffed sarcastically.

Lom slapped the dark-haired partner on the upper arm, muttering, "Not helpful now. You can get it all off your chest later when we're on our way."

Heyes nodded. He didn't like it, but he would stay quiet, for now.

"Thank ya," the Lonetree Sheriff muttered almost reluctantly. "I believe ya're serious."

The marshal nodded solemnly, "I am. You have my promise on that." He stepped back and resumed his authoritative straight square stance. "However, the press is busy now trying to out scoop each other and file their respective stories with whatever outlet they're attached to. But as soon as that's done, they're going to be at us like a pack of hounds baying for an interview from the fox. I also don't trust some of the more bloodthirsty men, I'd seen out there. I wouldn't put it past them to try a lynching, 'cause not everyone is believing the governor's statement. Which is why my colleague Marshal John Walters and Porterville Sheriff Lom Trevors are going to escort Heyes and Curry to another location as soon as can be arranged."

Walters walked over to the cell. His evaluating look slowly panned over Trevors, Heyes, and Curry. His brow furrowed and he gripped his chin in thought. Trevors and Hannibal Heyes looked exhausted but could ride well enough to make it the destination he had in mind. Curry on the other hand looked like what he had literally been, half dead. The man was battered, having discernable increasing discomfort in breathing and swallowing, and feverish most likely from an infected gunshot wound in the right thigh. He jerked his head to the side, indicating Trevors and Heyes should follow.

The three men huddled a few steps away from the entrance to the jail cell. Marshal Storz stood just at the edge of the huddle.

Walters quietly asked while keeping his eye on the Kid. "The best place to go is Fort Bridger. I know the captain there. He's a good man and will give us his and the army's cooperation with the governor's orders to ensure your safety until the immediate unrest dies down. They also have an excellent army surgeon. Curry sure looks like he needs one and soon."

Trevors nodded in agreement. Heyes showed a brief flash of reflexive concern at the mention of the calvary fort but quickly suppressed any hint of discomfort.

"My problem is that if we leave now and ride at a good clip, we could make the fort at sundown or a little after. If we need to take a wagon that means we move slower and won't make the fort in one day even if we leave now. I don't fancy staying in town and risking a lynching party tonight, but I also don't know if overnighting in the outdoors will do Curry any good. Looking at him and with all he's been through the last few days, I don't know if he can ride in the condition he's in, even if we can get him on a horse. You two know him better, what do you think?"

Before Lom or Heyes could open their mouths, a hoarse strained holler came from the cell. "I… ride…want out…town… now." A high-pitched stridorous gasp of air followed the difficult speech from Curry.

"He heard that? I could barely hear what John was saying and I was a lot closer." Storz muttered.

Heyes glanced over his shoulder, a fond half smile formed at the sight of his partner pulling himself to his feet. The dark-haired partner rushed to help. "The Kid's got great hearing. Saved our necks a couple of times." He steadied his cousin. "What do you say, Kid? You're the one who has the most at risk. I can lead the horse. If we can get you in Blackjack's saddle, can you hang on?"

"We can put a rope around his waist and tie him to the saddle horn," offered Storz.

A determined high-pitched raspy, "No…rope" vetoed that insensitive suggestion. "You…worry …'bout…"

"Yeah, yeah. Save your breath. I know. I'll worry about staying on my horse and you'll worry about staying on yours. It isn't gonna be easy and you're hurting already. But we never do things the easy way, do we?" He squeezed the hand of Kid's arm that he slung over his shoulder and called out in the direction of all the lawmen. "Someone will need to get our horses and gear and bring them to the rear of the jail." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'll get up behind you and ride double, if I need to but I'll get you safely to a doc as fast as I can. No matter what. I promise."

"Solemn promise?" came out on a breath.

Heyes softly smiled in remembrance of a past promise from Curry. One he ultimately had broken. "Yep, a solemn promise, who unlike someone else I could name, will keep," he whispered back.

The local law stood up. The deputy who was plainly uncomfortable around the newly free outlaws and the visiting law rushed out of the jail on his way to livery before anyone else could claim that task.

The two marshals shared a skeptical glance before Walter's shrugged his shoulders. "I guess that's settled. We'll be on our way as soon as he gets back."

Trevors spoke up. "The boys will need their stuff."

The sheriff slowly walked over to a low wooden cabinet. He unlocked a drawer and swept up the contents in his arms then dumped the collection of hats, pocket contents, money, two knives, one gun belt and saddle bags on the desk.

Heyes and Sheriff Trevors helped the Kid to limp over to the desk and deposited him into a chair. The two outlaws sorted through the items and replaced them on their person. The dark-haired ex-outlaw swung his gun belt around his narrow hips. He tied the thong down around his thigh then straightened up.

"It all there, Heyes?" Lom asked worriedly. Something appeared to be missing and it wasn't the substantial amount of money the partners had on them when they were apprehended.

Heyes voice hardened and took on a demanding quality that conveyed what was said was nonnegotiable. "The Kid's gun. Where is it? He's not leaving it behind."

No one said a word or moved.

"Safe," rasped Curry.

Brown eyes rapidly located the safe sitting in the corner of the jail. "Sheriff, you don't get to keep a souvenir and that's a good thing. Because when Marshal Storz does catch the murderer and thief, your guilty conscience won't have something concrete to remind it of how close you came to killing an innocent man. You confused the want of swift vengeance with justice. I believe the quote is 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord'. You need to remember that. Now sheriff, why don't you open that safe and give my partner his Colt or would you rather time me cracking that old Miller. Bet it will take under five minutes."

The Lonetree sheriff blinked. He opened the safe, hesitated before reaching in to retrieve the worn brown gun belt and Colt .45. He stood and walked over to hold it out to Curry. The possessive blond snatched it from the sheriff's hands.

Storz came up behind Heyes. "You know, I'm serious about catching the real culprits of the Lonetree bank robber. It's important for the victim's families to get real justice. It's important to the governor, not that I care a whole hellava lot about a politician's career. It's important to the Marshal Service to prove we can get our man, the correct man. And last but not least, it's even important to you two that someone else is proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt."

"Oh, I know Marshal." Heyes turned slowly around to face the marshal directly. He looked the lawman straight in the eyes with intensity. "Believe me, we know. What's more, I think you'll do it, too." He nodded his head and spun to help the Kid to get ready to leave.

Storz tapped the remaining deputy on the shoulder. "Get me a piece of paper, I need to send telegrams to the Governor's office and to Fort Bridger. I'll write them out and you can send them for me." He faced the sheriff of Lonetree. "As soon as they're on their way, your other deputy can fetch the eyewitnesses. I'll need to interview then one at a time. Alone and in private. Understood."

"Understood, Marshal."

"Good. Now that we know Heyes and Curry aren't the culprits, you and I can work together to find who is, starting with going over everything from the beginning."

Lom called from the back door, where he had stationed himself, watching the back alley. "Our horses have been moved to the back. Here comes the Kid's and Heyes' horses. Let's get out of here."

TBC

This story has become a lot longer than originally planned. Please excuse me, I'm working on the final chapter now.