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1877
The Boys settled into their 1875 agreement, Heyes to Devil's Hole and Curry to taking jobs in Wyoming wherever he could to earn money for his dream ranch. The higher paying the better, even though that always meant threat to life and limb.
Cattle work was always a fallback, sheep herding didn't appeal to Curry, firefighting was a natural draw on his chivalrous nature but the thought of living in a city repulsed him. He did find he was suited to a variety of jobs.
He found employment with a stage line driving or riding shotgun for a time. Neither was high paying enough for the danger involved, the gaunt and aged horses pulling the heavy stage over crumbling mountainous 'roads' being the greatest danger. He scouted for a wagon train half way across Colorado early summer of '75, the previous scout having succumbed to influenza. He was often hired by ranchers and farmers to track down and kill wolves, bears, and mountain lions ravaging their stock, utilizing his tracking skills acquired from the 7th Cavalry's Shoshone scout.
After a mountain slide of pines blocked the Midwest Railroad train he was riding, he pitched in and directed the clean-up, indicating exactly where the dynamite be placed to move the most timber without damage to the tracks. Right there, he was offered a job as a crew boss, the MR official recognizing Curry's innate abilities to lead men on a specific task, a trait the cavalry had also recognized and hoped to capitalize on. Sergeant Quinn was sure he'd found his replacement when Curry had enlisted. But Curry wanted no part of working for the railroad when his cousin was in the business of robbing them. The idea of asking his cousin to return his pay just didn't sit well with him, and the possibility of the law tracing him or his pay back to his cousin was something to avoid at all costs.
And in all the jobs he held and among all the people along his path, his ability with his pistol was not a point of contention. He had the reputation of being exceptionally fast, but that was in a world where men carried firearms to see another day. It was not in his nature to court the reputation, and he never did his entire life.
Heyes was enjoying increasing notoriety in the outlaw world and few would contest his reputation as the best safe cracker west of the Mississippi. His relationship with Santana as his second-in-command came naturally, he having the kind of mind that saw all potential outcomes and Santana appreciating his insights. He basked outside the lime-light, keeping his visage clear of reporters and cameras. Word-of-mouth descriptions were all the law had on him. Devil's Hole protects its own.
Letters and telegraphs between the two kept each knowing the general whereabouts and welfare of the other, allowing them to arrange meet-up dates and locations several times a year. They always returned to Jenny's in Cheyenne for Christmas, Heyes taking the winter off to enjoy the financial benefits of safe cracking and Curry getting some much appreciated slack-time after a year of manual labor.
Jenny installed cast iron bathtubs and running hot and cold water in her quarters and a few upstairs rooms, Number Four included. And the new steam heat system was appreciated on the cold Wyoming winter days and nights.
The extravagant Cheyenne living and Heyes's willingness to share from his always-full billfold, ill-gotten though it was, were getting easier on Curry's mind, the line between right and wrong blurring with each passing year.
He's always been right...
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It was the most humorous telegraph Heyes had ever received. He sat comfortably in the Harristown saloon, legs outstretched beneath the poker table strewn with cards, coins and bills, mugs of stale beer and half empty whiskey glasses mixing with tobacco smoke to perfume the air, as a man of the world would appreciate, when Kyle Murtry held the the envelope before him. He looked up into Kyle's benign face with his blue eyes in a perpetual dance and wondered if there was more to the man being masked by the outgoing personality, but he quickly dismissed the notion. Facts are too hard to argue with.
"This came fer ya, Heyes."
"Thank you, Kyle." Heyes flashed his dimples as he took the small envelope, but Kyle remained in place, as did his smile. When Heyes delayed too long, Kyle gave a little cough and licked his lips.
"Oh, here. Buy yourself a beer." Heyes handed Kyle a few bills and watched the blue eyes light up even more.
"Thanks, Heyes! Hope ya got good news there!" He held the bills high to his fellow Devil's Hole gang members. "Drinks 're on me, boys!" The bartender was overwhelmed with always-thirsty outlaws.
Heyes had to smile at the bunch, he really did enjoy their company, for the most part. Most were good Badmen. Well, some were. The newest, Lom Trevors, was one whom Heyes had befriended at first meeting, Trevors being the kind of man who could walk between the two worlds of inside and outside the law as easily as Heyes. But, it was sometimes hard to smile at Kyle or look at him, the blue eyes so reminiscent of his cousin earning his way on the other end of Wyoming. He opened the envelope.
..._ _ ... _ _..._ _ ... _ _..._ _ ... _ _..._ _
Date: October 2, 1877
Sent From: Little Wolf Gorge, Wyoming Territory
Received At: Harristown, Wyoming Territory
To: B Curry
In Jail.
Bring money.
Jeddie
..._ _ ... _ _..._ _ ... _ _..._ _ ... _ _..._ _
Heyes raised his eyes to the ceiling and put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. This will be a reunion neither expected, and only one will find humorous.
"Jim." He motioned with the telegraph to the Devil's Hole leader, Big Jim Santana. "I'm ridin' out in the morning. Got some personal business to see to." The gang had made their last heist for the season, the Hole was well stocked for the winter, so he ought to be free to ride, even take the whole winter off if he chose.
"Sure thing, Heyes. Your friend doing well?"
"Well, what he's doin'..." Heyes stood and swallowed the last gulp of whiskey. "...is his level best to be nothin' less than himself."
My nuisance.
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Heyes rode out of the natural fortress that was Devil's Hole on a chilly and damp morning, his clothing becoming more damp by the hour and still, his dark brown eyes sparkled and his dimples never faded. It'd been too long without a visit and he missed his cousin. He thought back on Jeddie's letter of over a year ago that he re-read while packing last night. How Jeddie could find trouble in his own paradise, Heyes would never be able to figure!
Dear Heyes,
You have to come here! I been working for Mr. Dennehy on his ranch and he has besides cattle horses. Beautiful and well-bred Morgans and Missouri's mostly. Paints, and some Arabians. He sells a lot to the army forts. I had to ride to his northern most line shack to check on some because he appreciates my way with horses. Me and the two McCalley brothers. And one day I was rounding up some that broke through and got to running too far north, I spotted a valley that seemed like it was the beginning of the world. When we got back to Mr. Dennehy's homestead I asked him if I could buy it from him and he said he don't own it, land speculator does. He said all I need to do is file a claim and put down money for a first payment and it is mine! So I did!
Hannie, I own land!
Well, me and North Plains Land Office of Cheyenne. Had to ride that far and no bank would lend me the money, you know the story, their for the cattle barons and big ranchers. But North Plains did. $6 to the acre. Seven percent. The recession.
I'm going to work it when I can, build a cabin and put up some fencing and start on our horse ranch! There is more land and you can file a claim and we will have a good sized ranch for us. I had money saved since the Chisholm Trail in the Cheyenne bank and it took near half for the down payment and that went as far as 40 acres for a start and the rest I keep for annual payments to North Plains. So I work for Mr. Dennehy still, he put me as one of his foremen now so I got a pay raise and I'm saving to build up enough so I can quit and then start on a cabin. On our land!
Hann, you have to ride out and see this piece of land!
Your cousin,
Jedediah
He had. And it was the paradise Jeddie had said it was. But he wasn't about to open a bank account like his cousin had, because unlike his cousin, he had no trust in bankers, period. Jeddie was the one always willing to give someone another chance.
Being an outlaw with gangs for six sporadic years, Heyes learned to understand his fellow men more than they did themselves. That is the nature of a good leader. Heyes was a stronger team player now than when he'd started his criminal life. He knew the danger in giving second chances to those who act with no regard for anyone but themselves. He'd come to realize from Jeddie's cavalry experience that a gang wasn't much different than the army, with it's very existence dependent on the men working together. And he'd never forget what Consolidated Bank of Philadelphia had done to Jeddie.
One rainy day at Blacky's, while Jeddie and Billy were target shooting out the back stable doors, he'd opened the chest he bought in Sargent, Kansas when Jeddie was discharged from the cavalry. He, himself, had added a second level to protect Jeddie's cavalry uniform, gear, and hat below and to make room for memorabilia on top. He fondly caressed the oval-framed photograph of Brigid and his letters to her wrapped in her green ribbon, set aside Jeddie's two army corps of engineers text books and class notes from Mifflin, the tin of letters which now included his letters to Jeddie, and removed the leather binder he'd given Jeddie when he signed him away to the cavalry, still filled with every deposit receipt from Consolidated Bank of Philadelphia and every army paycheck stub. All three years worth. Sitting at Jenny's desk, he added up the receipts and the last bank statement before the bank crashed. It was worse than he'd thought.
"Dirty sons of..." That wasn't good enough to describe men who stole people's lives when they stole their hard-earned money and got away with it. The law looked away from high heads.
It ain't right what they done to him!
The world is very often a cruel place for the common man. Maybe that's why he decided to become an uncommon man.
Heyes knew what Jeddie's current mess involved. His letters increased with the trouble and newspaper articles filled in more now and then. Seems the Midwest Railroad wanted to put in a line north from Little Wolf Gorge to Fort Waring to supply the wagon trains heading west to Oregon, and their chosen route included Jeddie's land. They offered a payment so low it was insulting to his intelligence and he refused to sell his dream. So they confiscated the land. Called it their own.
His cousin was one of four men who'd had land confiscated for the line and together they hired a local lawyer. But railroads have the government as partner, so railroads have more money and more lawyers than four small claim landowners. Crews began surveying, felling trees, tearing up lush grassland and laying down timber and track. And they had the legal papers that allowed them. It was a losing battle before it began. Talk now was that the territorial legislature might take up the case. Meanwhile, a railroad was heading toward his land. His cousin's dream just kept moving further and further away.
Heyes sighed and raised his face to the misty sky. "Why Jeddie? Why is it always Jeddie?"
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"King me." Curry leaned back, his blue eyes glinting and a smug smile rubbing it in.
"Aw, again?" Deputy Griggs looked despondently at the checkerboard, his opponent's chips all kings, and knew it was just a matter of a few moves before he lost another game to the friendliest prisoner he ever knew. They sat opposite each other on the cell bunks, a low table between them. Jeddie had been incarcerated in the small jail of Little Wolf Gorge for a week, now.
Curry chuckled. "Wanna play through, or give?"
"I give!" Griggs held up his hands in surrender.
"Another game?"
"No, thanks! Sheesh, Curry! You got some kind of unnatural sight for the future, one of them third eyes or somethin'? Cain't be luck!"
"It's called 'skill', Griggs. And it can't be taught, sorry." Curry let out a light laugh watching the exasperation on his friendly jailer's face.
"Don't matter what game, poker, checkers, Blackjack, you just keep winnin'! It ain't natural, Curry, it just ain't."
Curry's full out laugh was cut short by the office door opening and Sheriff Nash walking in with a hot bowl of chicken and dumplings. "Lunch, Jeddie. Sorry it's a little late. Dora had a meeting at the church she couldn't get out of. Here you go." He walked through the opened cell door and set the bowl on the small table.
"Ah, smells delicious, Sheriff. Thank Dora for me, will ya?" He wasted no time on further conversation.
Sheriff Nash crossed his arms on his chest and looked down with fondness on Curry. "You sure do like your jail fare, Jeddie! Never known a man to 'preciate whatever it is we set before him."
"Well, you heard of the Eleventh Commandment, haven't you?" Both men looked questioningly at Curry.
"When you're in the army..." Curry paused thinking how Sergeant Quinn's old saw was about to be amended by his present circumstances. "... or in jail, never complain about the food."
Curry's jailers exchanged grins.
"Time for my rounds, Deputy." Sheriff Nash checked his pistol.
"Sure thing, Sheriff." Nash returned to his office through the unlocked door.
"You gonna need to go out back after?" Griggs asked Curry before exiting his cell.
"Yeah, most likely."
"I'll leave it unlocked, then." And he shut the cell door, leaving Curry to guard himself.
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Heyes rode into Little Wolf Gorge early afternoon, so named for the gorge of forty feet cut by the Little Wolf River before it meandered onto the Laramie Plains. It was a hamlet morphing into a town, with the railroad crews bringing business and business bringing more settlers with more needs, necessitating more business. A scene every westerner was familiar with for over a decade. A bust was likely to follow the railroad boom but for now, the citizens were enjoying and profiting off the railroad crews. Will always be another town up the line to settle in when this one dries up.
Heyes worked his way up the main street knowing Curry's lawyer, Terence Paulson, had his office there, two blocks before Sheriff Nash's office when coming from the east. He spotted the sign, "T. Paulson, Attorney-At-Law", tethered his horse at the rail, touched his hat brim to two young ladies passing him on the boardwalk who couldn't help but take a coy look back at the handsome man with the dimples and low slung gun belt, and turned the door handle. It was locked. "Back Thursday" read the sign in the window.
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Snoozing away in a post-lunch nap, Curry lolled on his cot with arms behind his head when, beyond the office door, a familiar voice in conversation with Deputy Griggs began seeping into his unconscious mind.
"I'm his uncle, actually. My family is rather large and I'm on the tail end. We're almost the same age."
"He's in back, just finished his noon meal. That boy can sure pack away a jailhouse meal!" Deputy Griggs's voice.
"Well, you know the Eleventh Commandment, Deputy. When you're in the army..." A slight pause. "...or jail, never complain about the food."
Laughter from Griggs. "Yep, you're his uncle!"
"Mind if I see him?"
"Sure, just leave your gun and belt here." Heyes did as required and Griggs opened the door to the cell area.
"Got a visitor, Curry! Your uncle!"
The deputy's raised voice drove the remaining sleep from his head. Blue eyes opened and he turned to see his cousin, wire spectacles adorning his face, walking around the deputy at the doorway. He sat up placing feet on the floor and gave an excited face.
"Uncle Brian!"
Heyes held his expression. Griggs tapped his arm. "Brian? I thought your name was..."
"Eoin, yes. Well, you see, in the old country, Brian is a English-fied way of sayin' Eoin."
Curry rolled his eyes. That the best you can do, Heyes? Griggs'll never fall for it!
"Oh, sure, sure. Lots of that name changin' when folks settle in the New World. Well, I'll leave you two alone. I'll be in the office if you need me, Jeddie."
"Thanks, Deputy."
Heyes raised an eyebrow at Curry over that exchange.
Curry took in the impressive sight of his cousin walking toward his cell, that unmistakable walk now made all the more confident and intimidating with the reputation gained, so cock-sure of himself as 'Hannibal Heyes, Safe Cracker Unequaled', with his black boots worn outside the black dungarees, black gun belt slung low and tied down, black hat set low to his eyes. Many men would look on him and see trouble, ladies would look twice and stare, enchanted by his dimples and masculine power.
Curry was just happy to see his cousin, even if he took longer than needed to come to his aid, and then almost blew his cover!
Heyes stopped before the cell and stood grinning, dark eyes sparkling at his cousin's current predicament, and gave him that down-the-nose smile he saved for occasions such as this.
"Hi."
Then he tilted his hat back on his head and assumed the big-brother position.
Curry sat wondering, that skeptical look on his face. What's he up to?
Hands on hips, wide open grin, dimples in a devilish dance, and body shaking with suppressed laughter, Heyes was enjoying the sight of his cousin behind bars.
The pose worked up Curry, not knowing why his cousin found his situation so funny.
"Eoin? Eoin? You didn't see the "B" on the telegraph?" Curry stood to face his cousin. No reply from Heyes, just that aggravating, open-mouthed grin and the cocky stance on the other side of the cell door.
Curry tipped his head to the side and scowled. "What 're you doin' with those spectacles?"
Heyes was almost laughing out loud now, but gave no reply.
"Well? What's so blamed funny you can't speak to me after five months?"
It was time. Heyes controlled himself enough to finally let Curry in on the joke.
"After all these years of you tellin' me that I'm on the wrong side and I'm gonna end up behind bars, well, here we are." The pointer finger came out. "Me on this side. An' you on that side."
Heyes shook his head. "My little nephew beat me to it."
Curry narrowed his eyes and cocked his head at his aggravating cousin. "Very funny."
The sight was too much and Heyes cut loose with a full out belly laugh.
Curry pumped up, his face reddening. "That why you came here, to stand there an' laugh at me? Nothin' from that brilliant mind?"
Heyes regained some self-control and held his hands out in front in a placating manner. "Alright, alright." He took a deep breath and tried hard to be merciful, but his dark eyes sparkled and he couldn't resist one more.
"So, tell me. What's it like, bein' on the wrong side of the law?" And he keeled over laughing, holding his stomach.
The sound of creaking metal caught Heyes's attention. He looked up to see his cousin pushing open the cell door.
"Why don't you come in an' find out for yourself?"
Heyes stepped out of the way of the swinging door with a look of astonishment. "Well, now, that brings up a slew of questions, don't it? And possibilities. Jeddie, what the hell?"
"Oh? Not the kind of jail cell problematic prisoners like you expect to see?"
"Very funny. Well, don't just stand there, let's go!" He grabbed Curry's wrist and pulled, but Curry didn't budge.
"Uh-uh. Got a court date next month. I'm gonna clear my name and my lawyer says I will."
Heyes nodded with understanding. "But, you couldn't post your own bail? Where's all your savings from the last few years?"
"Lawyers don't come cheap, you know, and near all my savings goes to fees."
Heyes kept his eyes on Curry as he lifted his chin, prompting the rest of out him.
"'Sides, they feed me here, good food."
Still didn't explain it enough for Heyes.
"Free."
Heyes's narrowing eyes said 'That I can understand, but waiting for the rest.'
Curry added, "Broke, remember?"
Heyes nodded with his chin as if to say, 'Go on.'
"An' Mister Dennehy said until my name's clear, he don't want me workin' for him or stayin' on his ranch. Afraid there'd be trouble between me and the other men after the news got out about the shooting at the railroad camp."
Heyes waited for the rest, his head almost level now, just a bit of that aggravating grin still there.
"'Sides, I knew you'd come." Leaning against the cell door frame, Curry looked down at his boots. "Thanks for comin'."
A proud smile lit the face of Heyes. "Was never any question about it, little nephew."
Heyes stepped to his cousin and set a hand on his shoulder. "Listen, I'll post bail as soon as the sheriff's back. I'll get us a room and then we can clean up some and you can tell me all about it. Want to meet with your lawyer tomorrow when he returns. They got a barber in this town?" Curry nodded. "Alright. I'll stable my horse and see if I can track down the sheriff on his rounds, get you out of here quick like."
Curry smiled. "It's good to see you again, Uncle Eoin."
"You too, kid." He squeezed Curry's shoulder reassuringly and turned to leave.
"Swing the door back, will ya?" Curry asked, his hand reaching out.
Dark brown eyes sparkled as Heyes complied. Pushing the door to Curry's waiting hands, his face in mock fear, he took the opportunity for one last brotherly jab.
"Problematic prisoner?"
"Naw. Keeps out the draft." Blue eyes danced.
Heyes chuckled and landed a few pats on Curry's hand resting on the cross beam of the door. God, he had missed Jeddie!
"Back soon." Opening the office door, he smiled back at his cousin and shook his head. Never stops amazing me!
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"Afternoon, Sheriff Nash." Heyes touched his hat brim, smiled congenially and held out his hand.
Deputy Griggs had informed Heyes that the sheriff would be coming up the side street on the right, out front of the office. After securing a hotel room, Heyes had turned the corner onto the side street to find the sheriff on the boardwalk in conversation with the mercantile owner.
"Afternoon to you, Mister, ah..." Sheriff Nash raised himself from the porch chair and walked toward the stranger.
"Curry. Eoin Curry." The smile never faded as Heyes kept the sheriff looking at him. His handshake was quickly returned.
"Eoin Curry. You a brother of Jeddie, then?"
"I'm his uncle, actually. My family is rather large and I'm on the tail end. We''re almost the same age." Heyes was still being jerked by the strong handshake.
"Come to post bail, then?"
"Yes, sir, if that's available to my nephew. He ain't been any trouble, has he?" Heyes began leading the sheriff back to the office.
"Oh, no, no, no! Couldn't have a more amiable prisoner in my cell. We been enjoying his company these past days and my Dora, she's my sister, is so taken with the boy who gobbles up everything she cooks up for him." Nash laughed and patted his own rounded belly. "That boy sure can put away the food! Never a mean word about any of it. Sure does have his manners!"
"Well, I'm sure you know the Eleventh Commandment, Sheriff. When you're in the army or in jail, never complain about the food."
The sheriff guffawed and Heyes pretended to join him. "Yep, you're the boy's uncle, alright! Come on in! Circuit Judge isn't here but you can post bail with me. He's got a court date next month. Ah, it just isn't right it went this far. Trumped up charges. He'll get off easy, maybe a fine. A small fine. Or maybe a reprimand. Judge Horus is good on reprimands for first-timers. And your nephew, he's just the most pleasant young man, the judge won't let it go too far. Leniency. That's what'll happen, leniency." The rambling had continued all the way into the office and to the sheriff's desk.
Nash gestured toward the deputy on the opposite side of the room with feet up on his desk and just waking from a nap. "Deputy Griggs."
"We met." Heyes nodded to Griggs, who returned the nod.
"Finish my rounds for me, Deputy."
"Sure thing, Sheriff." Griggs checked his pistol and left the building.
Sitting at his desk, Nash brought out a red cloth-covered receipt book from a drawer and reached for the desk pen.
"Just what is the charge, Sheriff?"
"Hm? Oh. Inciting a mob."
Heyes's eyes widened. "Inciting a mob! To do what?"
"Well, that's the trumped up part. See, he and the three others in the case, Altmaier, Braxton, and Foy, got to talking outside the lawyer office and decided they'd head over to the crew boss's camp and have a talk about the schedule, kind of get an idea where the line will be at, when and if the legislature takes up the case, see what kind of hope they had, I suppose. My deputy saw them mounting up and they had no trouble him coming along. Good thing for it, because if he hadn't been there, be no one to back up your nephew's claims, even with the other three men there."
The lawman looked up at Heyes from his desk. "Not many can take on the railroad and win."
"Yeah, know what you mean, Sheriff. So, how'd the mob start?"
"Weren't none. Deputy Griggs said they were talking real easy like, just getting information from the man, but for some reason, he suspects they're up to no good, likely to use the information to cause havoc or damage to the line, or his men. That'll be sixty dollars. So he calls for his bulls."
Heyes pulled out the bundle of bills from his inside pocket and counted out the bail money.
A weekend's entertainment for a talented outlaw, two month's pay for a cowhand.
"And...?"
"Well, they start leaning in on them, the three bulls, threatening like, ax handles in hand they're slapping on their palms, getting in the four men's faces. My deputy calls for them to back off, the four were trying hard to talk their way out of a fight. But two bulls, they raise the ax handle so quick like to bring down on Braxton and Foy's heads and as quick as the handles are raised, two shots so close they were almost one, bang-bang! go off and both handles broke in two, the one piece flying off behind the bulls and the other piece neither could hold onto anymore, they drop it. And there's your nephew, Colt in hand. No one saw him move! Griggs had a full on view and swears the pistol was out and shot without him seeing. And the two bulls standing there holding elbows like it got twisted."
"Don't sound like my nephew. You say he can shoot?"
"Griggs never saw the like! No one there ever saw the like! But that wasn't all! The third bull figures he'll have a go at your nephew and turns for a roundhouse swing of the ax handle and bang! the belt buckle is shot off and the bull is standing there with his trousers sliding down his hips."
"I find this wholly incredulous!"
"So did everyone there! Says your nephew, 'Anyone else?' but not the crew boss or the rails watching want any part of him. But the crew boss, he's still on the war path wanting my deputy to arrest your nephew and the rest. Well, with your nephew's Colt and my deputy's authority, they ride out. He gets them in here and right away they each give me their story, one by one, and they all say the same."
Nash took a breather to pour himself a cup of coffee. Heyes, sitting on the corner of the sheriff's desk, passed on the offered cup and gestured for Nash to continue. After returning to his chair, the sheriff took up where he left off.
"Well, not an hour goes by and the crew boss is in here swearing out a complaint against Jeddie. Must've scared him silly having his bulls castrated in front of him and the crew like that. So he wants your nephew to pay for it. That's the way I see that."
"No, Sheriff. I find this incredulous because I've never known my nephew to take up a pistol that way! He's the most kindhearted, forgivin', placid man ever walked! You know what it could be, Sheriff?"
Nash set down his cup. "Hm?"
"Could be the battle threat response. The subconscious mind givin' a man ability he ain't never had before when he's facin' a big threat. It's written about in all the doctor books! Was a lot of it during the war between the states. You oughta read up on it."
"The battle threat response?"
Sincerity and innocence on his boyish face, Heyes nodded, pushing up the spectacles for added effect.
"Well, you might have a case for that, there. I agree your nephew is what you say, doesn't seem he'd be the kind to stand up to bulls that way without being provoked into it. Well, I'm sure Judge Horas will take that into account. He's probably up on that response thing you said."
"Bein' a judge, sure. Mind if I go back and get my nephew?"
"Sure, just leave your gun and belt here."
Heyes gave the sheriff a wink as he removed his gun belt.
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