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January 21, 1878
"You sure 'bout this, Jeddie?"
Heyes studied the blue eyes for any sign of doubt. He had visited his cousin in the Little Wolf Gorge jail, as promised, since returning three days earlier, and each day he tried to impart the full magnitude of the outlaw life that his cousin was intent on entering. Freedom to walk in society, out. Marriage, out. Freedom to choose your way of living, out. All that, out forever. Always looking over your shoulder, on the run, chased by posses, getting shot, caught, hung, imprisoned if not killed before, all of it, in. As long or briefly as forever lasted.
Curry was weary of the talk and the questions.
"Heyes, I had plenty time in here thinkin' what's out there for me an' it's more of the same that's been kickin' me down since... long as I can remember. Yeah, I'm sure!"
What spurred Curry to choose the outlaw life was obvious to Heyes. Having his meager payroll savings stolen by a thieving banker as a kid was bad enough. That was followed by the dirty scheme that began two years ago, Jeddie taken in by a fraudulent land agency and the greedy heads of an entire railroad company, manipulated by a dishonest lawyer, then unfairly convicted by a corrupt judge in order to harass him into tucking tail and leaving without a fight. And the entire black-souled lot of them stealing his hard-earned $2,617.53 he'd put away since he was seventeen years old, knowing there would be no recourse to justice for a worthless, beggarly drifter. The scheme was perfect, and perfectly executed.
But there was more Heyes wanted to hear from his younger cousin before they would ride together.
"Alright, here's how it works. Give all your freedom in the world that you got now, plus a steady life in whatever you choose, all that in exchange for a price on your head. That's the deal."
"I get your point! But who says I gotta stay an outlaw forever? I keep outta the lights like you been doin' an' I'm just like a thousand other men. If it suits me, maybe one day I'll ride away from Devil's Hole an' start a new life. Men do it all the time here in the West."
"Kid, there ain't no one draws or shoots like you. You ain't gonna run from the reputation Devil's Hole will earn you. All it'll take is one time in front of the law and you're had. You ride with me an' you're branded an outlaw forever."
"Hannie, we hashed over this for three days!" Curry slapped the cross beam in frustration. "I'm tired of the freedom to break my back an' risk my life, workin' my arse off for dreams that get stole by the world an' the big men who run it. Tired of bein' chumped." He grabbed the bars and leaned toward Heyes. "There's another kind of freedom an' I want it!"
Heyes knew that feeling. But he wanted more. He raised his chin in demand of it.
"An' I'm tired of bein' together only by plan and scheme."
"Tomorrow's your release day. Sure you want out now?"
His right boot heel stomped in frustration. "The train ain't gonna wait for me. If we're gonna get that payroll, we have got to ride tonight!"
Retribution was not a reason Heyes would accept. He had to know where Curry's mind was coming from to know his decision was considered in full. He would ask one last time, and if Curry didn't give what he needed to hear, there would be no deal.
"You sure you can live without bein' in the world?"
Curry considered his cousin's words carefully. He stood straight and looked directly into the dark brown eyes and gave a reply he knew only his cousin would truly understand.
"The world don't want me, Hannie."
The very words that echoed in the heart of Hannibal Heyes since starting his life of crime, since the Santa Fe Trail in '71, since striking out on his own at fifteen, throughout his days in Valparaiso, words that he'd carried inside like a badge of honor since that very night in Kansas and that drove his life decisions ever since, were just now spoken out loud by his younger cousin.
Jeddie, always the one to give others a second chance, had conceded the fact. But that isn't what drove Heyes's decision that day.
Heyes had asked for reason and Curry gave an answer straight from his heart. It could have come from his own heart.
Hellfire and damnation take the world! I want you, Jeddie!
"I'll be back tonight."
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Black boots trod lightly down the alley, slipping in and out of shadows, stepping quickly yet silently toward the back of the jail, the only sound from the eight hooves of the two horses being led.
From out on the street, the raucous crowd of drinkers and gamblers filling the boardwalks, piano's tinkling lively tunes, laughter emanating from the string of saloons, all blended into a cacophony that reached over the buildings and down to the alley.
"Jeddie." Heyes whispered at the cell window.
"Griggs is in the office."
"Back soon."
Heyes peered up the dark alley spotting a supply wagon lit by the open saloon door, beer kegs and crates of bottled wine filled high over the side boards, the team of horses waiting patiently while the teamsters enjoyed a beer inside before unloading the cargo. Just what he needed for a diversion.
Climbing aboard the wagon, Heyes slapped the lines hard on the croups. "h-YA!" And the animals obeyed, going from a standstill to full out gallop without a gait between. Heyes continued to slap the lines and urge the horses faster, taking the next side street at break-neck speed, turning the corner onto the main street with the wagon wheels leaving the ground, the weight of the cargo shifting to the outer side. Heyes jumped off and scurried into the shadows before the wagon overturned onto the street, the horses still pulling with all their might and spreading beer kegs and wine crates up the street until the harness broke and they were freed from their duty.
The commotion and the ensuing roar from the men on the boardwalk at the sight of free alcohol spreading all over the street woke Deputy Griggs from his slumber. He jumped off his chair and raced toward the door, then spun back.
Curry sat on his bed as Griggs threw open the inner door. "What in tarnation's goin' on out there?" He opened his eyes wide for the deputy.
"Might have some company for you soon, Jeddie." Griggs slammed the door and raced out the front door of the sheriff's office.
Curry hurried to the cell window.
"Heyes?"
The sounds of the back door opening and the unmistakable gait of his cousin entering the jail had him grinning before he turned around.
Deep dimples played as Heyes stood before Curry's cell. "Hi."
"You picked it that quick? You're really somethin', Heyes!"
Heyes grinned back as he entered the office and returned with the keys. "We gotta hurry." He unlocked the cell door and grabbed Curry's arm to reinforce the need for swiftness. Walking quickly into the office, Heyes held out his pocket watch to Curry.
"Time me."
"Time you! How long you figure to take gettin' that safe open?"
Dimples in greeting, Heyes caressed the three-tumbler Casstiel and Hulme office safe. "Hello, Cassie, old girl." He sat on the floor, leaned his head against the door and raised his eyes to his cousin standing impatiently over him and with not a small amount of trepidation. "Now" he instructed as his pointer finger waved.
Curry noted the time. He also noted the look of near ecstasy on Heyes's face, his eyes closed as if in a dream state, his fingers almost fondling the dial. Click!
Heyes signed with contentment. "Well?"
"Thirty-eight seconds."
"A new record." He pivoted to open the door and reaching inside, removed Curry's gun belt and pistol. "Anything else?"
Curry scanned the room as he buckled and tied his gun belt. He nodded to the corner. "My bag there."
"I'm breakin' you out of jail, we're runnin' for our lives, and you want to carry baggage?"
"All my new clothes are in there!" The pout pleaded.
Heyes growled. "C'mon!" He snatched up the carpet bag and hurried toward the inner door. He was half way past the cells when he turned back and grabbed Curry's wrist.
"Will. You. Come. ON!"
Slipping out the back door into the darkness, Heyes thrust the carpet bag at Curry's chest. "Strap it tight." Using his pick set, he locked the back door, dimples laughing at the confusion that would create.
Heyes was mounted as Curry finished tying the carpet bag to his saddle. He sighed loudly. "The way you're dawdling, a man would think you had second thoughts on leavin' jail."
Curry mounted, then gave him the innocent face. "Food's good." He shivered in the cold night air and pulled his shearling jacket tighter. "And it's warm."
Heyes muttered quietly to himself, "Oh, yeah, right." He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a pair of sherpa lined leather gloves. "These are warmer." He received a nod of thanks from his cousin.
Curry's horse shifted weight, anxious to be on the move, taking him a step back and forward. Curry held up the reins and nodded toward the jailhouse back door, and smiled wide.
"Second thoughts? Heyes, I been an outlaw with you since I crossed that threshold. Let's ride!"
Heyes squeezed Curry's arm and nearly laughed out loud. God, it was good to have his cousin by his side again!
"C'mon!"
Wind in their faces, hearts pounding with the exhilaration of freedom, and all the world at their feet, the two Kansas cousins rode into the night.
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"What do you mean you don't know how it happened? You're on duty!" Sheriff Nash tossed the ring of cell keys onto his desk after locking up the last of the beer looters.
"Sheriff, it was chaos out there when the wagon overturned. Like I said, Jeddie was in his cell before I left the office, I checked. We spoke just briefly! Took longer than I thought to get the situation under control and when I brought in the first ones, the cells were empty."
Sheriff Nash gave no reply. He stared at his deputy then faced his desk, fingers and thumb pinching his face, putting it all together.
Had to have a diversion. Had to have an accomplice. Had to be Eoin Curry.
Griggs continued his self-defense. "Know what I think happened? Jeddie's Uncle Eoin staged the diversion and broke him out, and probably with all the commotion, they used the front door seeing as the back one's locked. What are we going to do, Sheriff, form a posse?"
Nash glanced at his deputy, then studied the floor. Ninety days. And not even one was justified.
"What time did you see Jeddie in his cell?"
"The wall clock was at six minutes before midnight when I woke... when the ruckus began."
"Uh-huh. And what time were you first back in the cells?"
"Well, first bunch was at nine minutes after midnight. I noted the wall clock when I came in."
"Uh-huh. So, as far as you and I know, Jeddie was in his cell at midnight."
"Well.. we don't know he wasn't... Yes, Sheriff, as far as we know, Jeddie was in his cell at midnight."
"Uh-huh." Sheriff Nash sat himself at his desk and pulled out a ledger from a drawer. Taking up his pen, he filled in the last two columns under January 1878, Page 2, Line 7.
_Name_ Incarcerated_ _Charge_ _Sentence_Time Served_Released
Curry, _10/25/1877_Inciting mob_ 90 days_ _90 days_ _1/22/1878
Jedediah
Sheriff Nash closed the ledger looking his deputy in the eye.
"Justice is the province of a sheriff as much as a judge in his duty to the people."
"You're so right about that, Sheriff."
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The payroll train robbery that Heyes came up with was their first job after Curry was officially released from jail. Heyes had good reason not to include the gang.
Despite his role as Santana's second-in-command for two years, the Devil's Hole gang hadn't settled on a full-time leader since the capture of Santana, the men willing to listen to all ideas and vote for their favorite. This was overall detrimental to the gang's effectiveness, the several jobs they pulled before winter set in hard were strong on the failure side. Luckily, no deaths or captures resulted, but Heyes knew their inefficiency wouldn't let that last. He had allies in the gang who saw the value in his good ideas, but Wheat was a strong contender with his greater years of experience and his braggadocio that too many in the gang actually believed.
A greater concern for Heyes was the new man who came in under Santana, Harry Wagener and his harebrained schemes. Even Wheat had to be talked out of kidnapping the territorial governor's grandchildren for the ransom. The lure of big money is a siren call to the impressionable and the overly proud.
So Heyes had another motive in breaking Curry out of jail. He figured with Curry on board, he'd have a go-between to get his ideas across to the men on another level. Since Fort Lyon, Heyes had thought his cousin would make a fine sergeant with his ability to take on a job and lead men in carrying it out successfully. He was still proud of the capture of the renegades that Curry had planned on the spur of the moment and in getting two cavalry companies to work together seamlessly to accomplish it. Not to mention his marksmanship that impressed all who witnessed it. And he was just a kid at the time!
Heyes was loading his pistol just before leaving Devil's Hole to break his cousin out of the Little Wolf Gorge jail that day in January. He told the gang that he and his friend, alone, would bring in the loot the gang was short on after their failures that season. Wheat scoffed. Wagener couldn't stifle a laugh. The men fidgeted.
Heyes snapped his Schofield in place, twirled it smartly before holstering it, and said "Don't miss the newspapers, boys."
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"What ya thinking on?"
"Wondering what to call you."
Curry frowned at his cousin riding close beside him, their legs touching as they rode downhill. They were headed for the lower elevations of Wyoming Territory with less snowpack than Little Wolf Gorge had, making it more difficult for the law to track them after their planned train robbery.
"My name ain't good enough anymore?"
Heyes watched as the pout appeared. God, he looks like he's six years old!
Watching the trail ahead, Heyes tilted his head toward Curry. "It isn't that, kid. Just that a more colorful name will be an advantage in the outlaw world, and the law reacts lots of times on an outlaw's reputation."
"A name can have power?" The clear blue eyes were open wide as he took in the lesson from his experienced cousin.
Heyes smiled at Curry. "That's a good way to put it. My name, now, Hannibal Heyes, it's colorful an' it's already known so I'll keep it. But you... name's got to fit you..."
Curry watched his friend deep in thought on something he found non-essential. "Well, a name ain't gonna help us stop that train, get the payroll, and get away safe."
"True. But then, maybe we don't need to stop the train." Heyes grinned while looking ahead.
Curry leaned forward to see his cousin's face. "Well, that'll save some dynamite. We could get on either when it's stopped or..."
"Or?"
"Jump on when it's movin' slow enough. For that we'll either need a diversion on the track ahead to slow it down but still let it pass... maybe a tree trunk on one track the engine can push aside... or jump from a spot with an incline that always slows the train... either one, we'll need cover close to the tracks until it's time to move so... trees, bushes, rocks, side slope..."
Heyes leaned forward to see Curry's face deep in thought. He smiled wide and slapped Curry on the back and laughed.
"After all these years, you're finally gettin' to think like me, kid!"
Curry responded with his eyes-rolling, drop-jaw look that never did a thing more than increase the dimple depth on Heyes's cheeks.
"Let's make camp early, Heyes. I want to study those Midwest maps you stole from the Porterville train depot."
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The job went off perfectly! In the time they allotted for the whole plan to be implemented, they were suddenly $56,000 richer. With the precision Heyes demanded in timing and with Curry's innate and learned defensive strategies, they'd come up with a plan that required only two players, and actually would have been cumbersome and risky with more.
They waited as the train was hindered by the steep incline, slowing enough that the two, hidden behind a natural embankment on the left side of the cars, easily made the jump onto the platform of the payroll car. Excitement as much as the chilly wind reddened their cheeks as they burst through the door of the guarded car to find just one guard on duty. He jumped up shakily from his nap, his hand automatically reaching for his side arm, but froze on sight of the two pistols aimed at him. The Midwest clerk, a small, mousy man, was sitting on a chair beside the guard eating his bag lunch and almost gagged himself with fear. He held his hands high above his head, sandwich hanging from his mouth.
Curry took the lead. "Well, now, friend, I'd like to take a look at that piece. Reach over real slow with your left hand, take it out slow like and let it drop that way."
The man looked from one boyish face to the other gauging the threat. Both Curry and Heyes noted the change in his eyes as he made a decision and went for his pistol, only to have it shot out of his hand by his side. He didn't dare move.
Heyes hadn't time to do anything but think of shooting when the guard's pistol careened across the floor. He opened his eyes wide and looked over at his cousin.
"Now turn around both of you and kneel." Curry was speaking in a friendly manner that didn't threaten.
"Hands behind your backs, please." The politeness was unexpected but didn't allay any fears, having just witness the fair-haired one's accuracy with a pistol.
"Hold still now while my friend binds your hands." It was a different voice, must be the dark haired one. "And don't try anything."
Once tied and gagged, the guard and clerk were laid face downand their ankles tied. Each man was certain this was his end.
Heyes held his pocket watch to Curry. "You know what to do."
"Every time?" Curry growled. "Now."
Heyes fell into his dream state, fingers lightly turning the dial, Curry wondering if the rattling of the train would muffle the sound of the tumblers. The noise was increasing as the train picked up speed cresting the rise.
"Two minutes." He informed Heyes.
Click!
The bags of greenbacks were quickly removed and handed to Curry, who stuffed them into the saddle bags he carried on his shoulders.
Heyes smiled up at him as he squatted before the safe and pulled out a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. He raised it to Curry. "This one's for you, Kid."
"What?!" Curry shouted indignantly. Heyes laughed, put the paper inside the safe, closed the door and spun the dial. He grabbed a saddle bag from Curry's shoulder.
"C'mon!"
As anticipated, the train was chugging at full steam when they stood on the platform outside the car, but it wasn't long before the engineer pulled back on the Johnson bar, having spotted a tree trunk on the track ahead. The second guard, outside on the dining car platform, leaned far over the right side to see the danger ahead. He watched as the engine slowly approached the 'fallen' trunk and pushed it safely aside with the cowcatcher.
Before the engineer increased speed, the Boys had jumped off the left side and scrambled down the slope, just a few hundred feet from Curry's horse tied and waiting for them. They would ride double back east to the embankment they'd used to jump the train, Heyes's horse waiting patiently for their return.
Belching loudly, the second guard entered the payroll car to find his partner and the clerk face down on the floor, cheeks puffed and red with frustration trying to untie themselves.
"Two men, never saw 'em before," the guard informed the other when the gag and binds were removed. The one shot my pistol right out of my hand! They left ten minutes ago. Heard the safe bein' opened and closed, and that's about it."
The Midwest clerk paled, ran to the safe and turned the dial. The two guards hung over his shoulder as he opened the door to find the payroll bags gone and a sheet of paper in their place. The clerk read out loud.
"Our regards to the thieving Midwest heads. Signed..." He looked up at the guards.
"Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes."
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