Stories: Alias Smith and Jones

Buckshot Enterprises Presents a site for posting and reading Alias Smith and Jones Stories
HomePortalFAQSearchRegisterLog in

Share | 

  My Kingdom For a 'Dang' Horse by Allegra

Go down 

Posts : 413
Join date : 2013-10-13

Post My Kingdom For a 'Dang' Horse by Allegra

Pete Duel as Hannibal Heyes and Ben Murphy as Kid Curry

Guest Starring

Tom Selleck as the stagecoach driver

Davy Jones as K. Grimsby
Micky Dolenz as Frank
Peter Tork as Art
Michael Nesmith as Jude

(in memory of Davy Jones)

Robert Redford as Sheriff of Hudson

Paul Newman as Sheriff of Barkhold Creek

Til Schweiger as Deputy of Barkhold Creek

Scene opens with a shot of the arid desert landscape. Then the camera angles around to the right where we see the dusty road cutting through the somewhat monotonous scenery and kicking up the dirt are two horses, their riders’ expressions reflecting the monotony of the path they are taking.

Neither talk, and their horses plod on. The camera follows them as they walk past and further away along the road.

Then the rider under the brown hat suddenly tenses and pulls up as he squints ahead looking into the distance. His companion, jerked out of whatever reverie he was currently engaged in, immediately stops his horse too and tries to locate what his partner has found so interesting on the horizon.


“There’s somethin’ on the road up ahead,” responds Curry, still squinting under his hat and leaning forward as if this will afford him a better view. “Can’t make it out though.”

Heyes shrugs, “Better go take a look then.” He might as well have said it to himself. His partner has already set off.

As they ride closer, it becomes clear that the object Kid saw from so far away is actually a stagecoach, which is turned over on its side and skewed across the dirt track. There are people too, a couple of men on the ground, obviously hurt, and two more in attendance. Three others just seem to be standing around helplessly and one is further away from the coach, pacing up and down in obvious agitation. As Heyes and Kid get closer, they are seen and the group waves to them in a clear signal of distress.

The Kid picks up speed on seeing the waving group. Heyes sighs and follows.

“Oh, thank the heavens!” It’s a cry from a woman who is kneeling next to a wounded man on the ground.

The boys come up to the group and tip their hats almost simultaneously. Kid looks at the woman with a slightly concerned frown on his face but on close inspection neither of the men on the ground seems to be badly hurt. His gaze then takes in the rest of the group. They are almost all standing together now around the wounded. No one says a word. Only one man continues to hold back and is still showing all the signs of being very tense.

Kid points to the stage. “Howdy. Looks like you got yourselves in a little trouble.”

At his words it seems like a dam has burst. Everyone crowds towards the Kid and starts talking at once. It is completely incomprehensible.

Heyes is not only looking at the group. He is taking in the state of the stagecoach and the rest of the objects lying around. Luggage is littered on the ground. It has obviously been opened and thrown around but it looks as if someone has made a vague attempt at putting it back, albeit not very successfully. It still looks a mess. He then turns and takes in the agitation of the man standing slightly aside of the group. He’s dressed in a suit but it has been pulled and ripped in what must have been a very rough search. He gives him a puzzled glance and gets down from his horse to go and inspect the stage more thoroughly.

Meanwhile, Kid is holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Whoa! One at a time, please.”

Everyone is quiet for a second and then they all start again. The Kid loses patience. “Quiet!” he barks. This time the group goes and stays silent. Curry tips his hat upwards and, seeing that he’s obviously not going to be receiving any assistance from his partner, he climbs down from his horse and points to a middle-aged man. “You, sir. Like to tell us what happened?”

The agitated man pipes up, “You can see what’s happened! We were…”

But the Kid holds his hand up stopping the man as he gives him a glacial stare from under his hat. “I believe I asked this gentleman.” His voice is cold.

The agitated man is cowed and silenced for now but clearly he is not going to hold his peace for long. He looks too upset.

“We were ambushed,” the other man replies. “A whole group of ‘em, ten – maybe fifteen outlaws, and we didn’t stand a chance. They tried to stop the coach by spooking the horses and shooting at their hooves. But the horses reared up and turned off the road which forced the stage to veer and roll over. By the time we came to and realized what was going on, we were surrounded. They pulled us from the stage and searched us and our belongings before leaving, taking the horses with them.” He looked at the wounded men on the ground before mumbling. “There was nothing we could do.”

Heyes by now has finished going around the coach and is headed back to the Kid. He points to the undercarriage. The Kid’s eyes follow to where Heyes is pointing.

“Axel’s broken in half.” Heyes shrugs. “Nothing we can do about that either.”

“Tell ya what,” says Curry. “We’ll ride to the nearest town and let ‘em know what’s happened so they can get help out to ya quicker.”

Heyes nods his agreement. “How far’s the next town?” he asks.

“About fifteen miles I reckon.” This comes from the other wounded man on the ground. “I’m the driver,” he offers by way of explanation.

“Then we’d be better off going back where we came from – to Hudson. It’s only about half that distance,” decides Heyes. “That would make a rescue quicker.”

The Kid starts moving towards the horses. “Yup, an’ the quicker we’re gone, the quicker we can get help sent,” he tells the group still surrounding him.

The agitated man, however, has come up to Heyes and he now tugs on his sleeve. “A word, mister.”

Heyes turns to him and finds himself pulled slightly away from all the other people milling around. The Kid gathers the reins of both horses and waits for his partner while watching the whispered conversation going on between Heyes and this other man. He’s still agitated and gesticulating with his arms, obviously talking very fast while trying to get his point across. After a while, Heyes puts one hand on the man’s shoulder and holds his other hand up to him to stop his verbal flow. He is now talking and from what the Kid can see the other man is calming down listening to his partner’s words. Heyes is now smiling and has put his hand on the other man’s shoulder.

The Kid watches him through slightly narrowed eyes. “You’re schemin’ again, Heyes. I can tell.”

Heyes then looks to the Kid and beckons him over with a jerk of his head.

The Kid looks skeptical. “Whatever this is, the answer’s no,” he mutters to himself. His gait is just a touch impatient as he comes up to join the other two. “We’ve gotta get goin’,” he tells Heyes, his voice carrying a warning edge.

“Thaddeus,” Heyes says jovially, “This gentleman says he desperately needs to get to a town quick, so he wants to buy one of our horses.”

The Kid looks at the other man.

“Is prepared to pay for it too,” adds Heyes.

Curry raises his eyebrows.

“Five hundred bucks,” continues Heyes.

Now Curry smiles, no longer impatient. “Reckon somethin’ can be arranged,” he says. “Thaddeus Jones.” He holds out his hand.

“He hasn’t got any money with him though because he’s just been robbed.” Heyes again.

The Kid stops smiling and pulls his hand back.

“So, here’s what we’re gonna do,” says Heyes, now looking at the Kid carefully. “You’re gonna sell him your horse.”

Curry transfers his attention to his partner, suspicion back in his face. “I am?”

Heyes smiles. “Yes – and I’m gonna ride back to Hudson with him,” he gives a slight nod in the direction of the third man, “where he promises he’ll pay me for your horse. Meanwhile, you’ll wait for the rescue party and go on to Barkhold Creek. I’ll join you there after I’ve been paid and together we’ll go buy you a new horse.”

“You reckon.” The Kid is not looking happy.

“It’s a great plan, Thaddeus,” says Heyes, happily.

Curry’s eyes narrow. “Oh, yeah? Well, I’ve got a better one.”

Heyes looks taken aback, the grin slightly frozen.

“We could sell YOUR horse!”

Heyes abruptly stops smiling. “That’d never work, Thaddeus.”

“Why not?”

“If we have to decide whose horse we sell, then we’d have to toss for it and you’d lose. This way everyone’s a winner.”

“How exactly does givin’ my horse to a stranger and gettin’ left stranded with a broken stage make me a winner?”

“Of course, I forgot to introduce you! Thaddeus Jones, this is Mr. Grimsby.” Heyes’ smile is back.

“That don’t make him less of a stranger or me more of a winner,” hisses the Kid.

“Thaddeus,” says Heyes, leaning closer to the Kid and whispering, “Five hundred dollars!” He raises his eyebrows at his partner.

The Kid gives him a stony glare.

“Besides,” adds Heyes, “You can clear up better than me.” His hand sweeps around indicating the mess of suitcases and passengers, both walking and wounded.

The Kid gives the ‘mess’ a quick glance and opens his mouth to object, but his partner has already pulled back and is turning to the third man. “Mr. Grimsby,” he calls, “you’ve got yourself a deal.”

It’s Mr. Grimsby’s turn to grin. “Oh, thank you so much. Let’s get going. There’s no time to lose.” He rushes over to the horses and tries to mount the dark one.

“Er…Mr. Grimsby,” says Heyes, “that’s my horse. You bought the other one.”

Again Kid opens his mouth to try and say something but Heyes is already on the move. He quickly takes his horse’s reins and mounts up, grinning to his partner. “Catch up to you, Thaddeus.” He unravels the water canteen from where it was tied to the saddle and leans down to his partner in a gesture of conspiracy while holding the canteen out to him. “This is a real easy five hundred dollars, just wait and see.”

The Kid looks slightly less convinced as he takes the water. “Just look after yourself, Joshua. I hope you’re right.”

And with a quick nod at the rest of the party, the two men set off back along the dirt track from whence the two horses and one of the riders had come.

The Kid watches them leave for a few moments before turning to the rest of the stage party. His face shows resignation as he looks at the mess Heyes has left him with. “He’s done it to me again,” he says to himself. A sigh. “Alright, let’s start sortin’ things out here.”


The two riders are picking up a brisk pace. Mr. Grimsby, it seems, is still very anxious about getting to town. Heyes doesn’t seem anxious at all and glances over at his new riding partner with interest.

“Shouldn’t take us too long to get to Hudson,” he offers as a conversation opener.

“I hope so.”

“May I ask what’s so important that it can’t wait half a day?” Heyes is keeping his voice mild and neutral.

Grimsby doesn’t answer straight away but just glances over to Heyes before turning his attention back to the road ahead. “I’ve just bought a very expensive horse from you, Mr. Smith. I don’t think I owe you an explanation for my actions too.”

It’s Heyes’ turn to give Grimsby a startled glance which he turns into a slightly defensive smile. “Okay, it’s none of my business. Then I guess you’d better get whatever it is you need doing sorted out as soon as we arrive and I’ll go to the sheriff and organize a rescue posse for the stage.”

Grimsby slumps ever so slightly in the saddle and he gives Heyes a slightly guilty look. “Thank you,” he replies and then, as if offering a slight apology for being so secretive, he explains. “I should be finished pretty quickly and then I can help you. It’s just a matter of letting people know the reason for my being held up.”

“Seems fair enough,” says Heyes.

“’Course, then I’m gonna need to get to Barkhold Creek as soon as possible after that,” he adds as an afterthought.

Heyes smiles. “Me too.”


Back at the stage we can see that the Kid has been putting a little order to the chaos. The two injured men have been propped up in the minimal shade made available by the stagecoach. The bags have been properly packed up again and are either closed or tied together, and put in a pile nearby. Meanwhile, the Kid is currently looking through how much water and food the group has to keep them going.

“So, these two canteens of water are yours?” the Kid is asking the injured stage driver who is now looking slightly more comfortable leaning against the side of the stage.

He nods at the Kid. “An’ I’ve got a bit of jerky in my bag here. It ain’t much though.” He sounds slightly apologetic.

“That’s fine,” the Kid tells him. “What else have we got?”

“There’s your canteen,” says another man.

The Kid nods. “But it’s only half full. Joshua took most of the water to get to town. Still, I suppose it’s better than nothin’. No one else brought anything?”

“They took my whiskey flask,” griped one of the passengers with a scowl. “I thought that’d see me through the journey. I didn’t have nothin’ else with me to drink.”

Now the Kid shakes his head in disbelief. “Well then, I just hope my partner won’t take too long gettin’ a rescue organized.”

Everyone looks suitably subdued and slightly embarrassed at the lack of provisions; everyone, that is, except the man who has lost his whiskey flask who has a face like a thunder cloud and is clenching and unclenching his fist. (It is clearly still a sore point.)


Heyes and Grimsby have arrived in town and are tethering their mounts outside the telegraph office.

“I’ll meet you back here if you like,” Heyes tells his temporary riding partner. “I’ll go talk to the sheriff but he’ll also need to come here to let people in Barkhold Creek know what’s happened. I’m sure they’ll want to send out help too.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Grimsby mutters, absentmindedly. With a distracted nod and a glance toward the town clock, he hurries past Heyes, into the telegraph office. Heyes doesn’t hang around either and heads off in the direction of the sheriff’s office.


Heyes steps from the telegraph office, watching a posse head off, down the road and out of town, in the direction of the stagecoach wreck. He pulls his hat low over and takes a seat on the porch. From beneath the hat, we see two dark eyes, scanning discreetly, and expectantly, toward the bank, from which Grimsby is now exiting. The man spots Heyes and heads over to him. Heyes rises from his seat to greet him, smiling the smile of one who is about to make a very easy five hundred dollars.

“Posse’s already gone. I told the sheriff no one was seriously hurt, so he plans to go straight after the thieves once he’s quickly checked up on the people at the stage and maybe got a couple of descriptions from them. He reckons there might be a chance the trail hasn’t gone cold yet. And, to save time, he asked me to get in touch with the sheriff in Barkhold Creek for him and let him know what’s happened. He sent back a message saying they’re now also heading out to the stage,” Heyes tells him.

Grimsby is distractedly looking around and his eyes keep going to the town clock but he listens politely enough to Heyes nonetheless. “That’s good news,” he says.

“You able to sort out your side of things?” Heyes now asks him, his eyes flicking over to the bank. He’s looking very hopeful.

In answer Grimsby reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a wad of notes. He hands it over to Heyes (who pockets it with a speed that would challenge Kid Curry).

“Yes, I think so. Now I just have to get over to Barkhold Creek as quickly as possible to make sure everything is fine there.”

“You know,” says Heyes, “if we both need to get to Barkhold Creek quickly, then it might not be a bad idea to travel together. I mean, it’s not like you don’t have a horse anymore.” Heyes’ eyes glance at Kid’s ex-horse. “Might be safer too, after what happened to the stage.”

Grimsby thinks this over for about two seconds before nodding his consent. They begin to walk down the porch to where the horses are tethered.

“’Course the horses could probably do with a little more rest,” Heyes ponders out loud. He stops and points to the saloon. “How about a quick drink before heading off?”

Grimsby fidgets as he takes the reins of his horse. “Well, I don’t really know if…oh, alright, then. Just a quick one.”

Heyes doesn’t need telling twice. He’s taken his reins and is walking briskly over to the saloon. Grimsby follows at a slightly less enthusiastic pace.

“You know, now we’re riding together for a bit, calling me Joshua is fine,” says Heyes.

Grimsby looks alarmed at the prospect and retreats into primness, “Mr. Grimsby is fine too, Mr. Smith,” he retorts. “We’re not going to be riding together for that long.”

Heyes’ brow lifts in surprise, then he shrugs, “If you say so.”


Back at the stricken stagecoach.

“Someone’s coming!” One of the men points to the distance where a dust cloud can be seen.

Apart from the two wounded men, the group stands together and watches the cloud get closer until it turns into a posse of men and horses.

“We’re saved!” cries the woman who has not been treating any wounded. She is large and busty and a tad melodramatic. The Kid rolls his eyes.

The posse arrives – a sheriff, two deputies and four other men. They get down off their horses surveying the area in much the same way that Heyes and Kid had done when they first arrived.

“Good to see ya, Sheriff,” says the Kid almost wincing with the irony of such a statement. The sheriff eyes him grimly.

“Sheriff!” The driver calls over, drawing his attention. He is still propped up against the side of the stage and sitting in the shade. The sheriff now turns and walks over to him. “We were ambushed,” the driver tells him, repeating what he told Heyes and the Kid. “Ten or fifteen of ‘em. Took everythin’. Weren’t nothin’ we could do.”

“You alright, Joe?” asks the sheriff and the driver nods.

“I’m fine, an’ even better for seein’ you come along,” he replies.

The sheriff turns to the other injured party. “How bad is he?” he asks the young lady sitting with her husband.

“I’m okay,” answers the man speaking up for himself.

The sheriff nods. “Well, okay then.” He turns back to the main group. “Here’s what I’d like to do. We’ve brought rations with us; water, food and medical supplies and plenty of ‘em. Now, I’ve had someone contact Barkhold Creek and ask them to send a rescue party and a new stage to pick you up and see you on with your journey. Meanwhile, we have a chance to go after the outlaws that did this to ya before the trail goes cold. If it’s okay with you, we’d like ta take it.” He looks around at the group. “What do ya say?”

“Sounds good to me,” says the stage driver answering before anyone else can object. “I’m behind anybody that’ll try an’ get them varmints and stop ‘em robbin’ my stage.”

The busty woman is sniffing and sniveling into a hankie. “Well, as long as you are certain that a stage for our rescue is not far behind." She sniffs again, "I guess I would like to see the thieves apprehended."

The rest of the group nods their acquiescence to this plan of action.

“Okay, then,” says the sheriff. “Kurt, you two,” his hand is pointing to two of the other men, “unload the supplies and then let’s get goin’. We’ve still got a few hours of sunlight.”

While the assigned men deposit the supplies at Curry's feet, the sheriff eyes him cautiously.

The Kid stares back stoically.

With an appreciative tip of his hat, the sheriff turns to mount. "I'll leave you to sort this out. Next posse shouldn't be long now, and the stage won't be far behind."

The Kid nods. “Good luck,” he says, as the sheriff and the rest of the party mount up and head off into the scrubland. He turns to the packages and begins to rifle through what the posse has left for them. “Alright, who’s thirsty?”


Heyes and Grimsby are back on the road again and Heyes is back to giving his new temporary partner curious glances. “Good thing you got your business all worked out,” he states patting his coat where the five hundred dollars has been safely stashed.

Grimsby is now looking more relaxed in the saddle. He nods.

"Contacted everybody who needed contacting?" Heyes prods, gently.

He looks over to Heyes’ hand which is still on his jacket and nods. “Just needed to let people know that everything is going to plan and I just got held up.” He grimaced before adding, “literally!”

“It couldn’t be helped. I’m sure they realized as soon as you told them.”

“Oh, yeah. They were real understanding. They saw my problem straight away and were grateful that I contacted them as soon as I could. I’m arranging a deal between the townsfolk and some people from Denver. It’s a little complicated.”

Heyes makes a noncommittal grunt. “Is it?”

Grimsby looks sharply at him as if to ask himself whether he has given something away. “Well – no, you’re right. It shouldn’t be complicated as long as things go to plan. The people in Denver are a bit jittery but the people from Barkhold Creek trust me.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“It’s my town. I live there.”

“You’re from Barkhold Creek?”

Grimsby nods.

“Then why are the people in Denver jittery? Seems they ought to be pleased to do business with someone who’s from the town.”

Grimsby’s hands fiddle nervously with his horse’s reins and he fidgets slightly in the saddle. “I don’t know why they are being like that, but I do know this deal means a lot to some people in the town.”

Heyes’ eyebrows rise under his hat and an astute observer is almost able to see the cogs working in his brain.

Grimsby seems to have tied a nervous knot in his reins. “This deal just needs to work,” he mutters more to himself than Heyes. “It has to.” And with that he kicks the Kid’s ex-horse ahead into a trot.


Back at the stage, the passengers are all seated together, passing canteens around and sharing rations while talking quietly among themselves. The two wounded men are now bandaged and sitting next to the stage looking a lot more comfortable.

The busty woman pulls on the Kid’s sleeve. “Mr. Jones?”

He looks down at her and she points to the horizon saying breathily, “Looks like more people comin’.”

The Kid looks up to see another dust cloud. The group of stranded passengers gathers together as this cloud too forms a posse which comes to a halt in front of them. The Kid scans the riders and sees two star badges among the eight men and he pulls the brim of his hat down.

The riders from Barkhold Creek survey the scene in front of them in much the same way as the previous group of riders. This time, though, they all dismount. Kid sneaks a peek from under his hat and sees that one of the stars which he’d noticed is a sheriff’s badge. As his eyes travel up to the face, though, he sees the eyes of a stranger and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Alright, folks,” booms the sheriff, “from my understanding there’s no one seriously hurt?” He looks over to the two men lying in the shelter of the upturned stage. Both men nod at the correctness of this statement. “And the Sheriff of Hudson has gone after the outlaws?” Nods again from all present. “Well, then,” continues the sheriff, “a coach is on its way to pick you up and see you safely to Barkhold Creek. It should be here within the hour.” Again the sheriff looks around. “Seems you’ve sorted yourself out here pretty well, though. There’s not much for us to do but wait with you.”

“Mr. Jones helped us with that,” simpers the busty woman. “He’s really been looking after us.”

The Kid turns to her with a slight look of disbelief only to come face to face with the other star which belongs to a deputy. He is staring hard at the Kid…and his gun is out and pointing straight at him.

“Is that so?” says the deputy. “Sheriff! I’d like a word.”

The sheriff hurries over. “What’s going on?”

“I know this man,” answers the deputy. “Could you get his gun, please, Sheriff? You see, we also seem to have an outlaw problem right here.” The lawman’s stony eyes bore into the Kid’s icy blue ones. “Kid Curry, you’re under arrest!”

The sheriff looks stunned, as do all the passengers standing around. The sheriff, however, instantly recovers himself, and hurries over to relieve the Kid of his weapon before turning to his deputy. “Are you sure?”

Now there is a loud buzz of conversation among the passengers.

“Never been more sure,” answers the deputy. “I saw Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes once and I wouldn’t ever forget those faces.” He smiles at the Kid. “Put your hands up.”

Reluctantly, the Kid complies.


We pan back to Heyes and Grimsby who are resting the horses and taking a break from sitting in the saddle. Heyes looks relaxed but his eyes are fastened onto his reluctant riding partner who, although sitting down, couldn’t be looking less relaxed. He is fidgeting under Heyes’ stare.

Heyes smirks. “You know, I never asked before. What do you do, Mr. Grimsby?”

“I used to be a farmer,” the man confesses reluctantly, “but recently I sold out because I want to get into the hotel business.”

Heyes’ eyebrows shoot up. “That’s quite a change of career.”

“Well, yes, but I got a good offer for the land.”

“Your farm was in Barkhold Creek?”

“Just outside.”

“You said ‘land.’ Does that mean that whoever bought it is more interested in the land than the farm itself? Is it even going to be used for farming?”

Grimsby now looks slightly guilty and defensive. “It’s not my business what they do with the ‘farm.’ They bought the land and they can do what they want with it.”

“Not farmers, then,” confirms Heyes.

“No,” acknowledges Grimsby.

Heyes turns and gazes hard at Grimsby who looks flustered and squirms. “And just who are ‘they?’”

Grimsby looks away. “‘People,’” he mutters.


Back at the stagecoach we see Kid Curry being helped up into the saddle of a horse. His hands are tied behind his back. Already mounted are the deputy and another member of the second posse.

“Just get him back and safely into the jail,” the sheriff is telling the deputy as he stands next to his horse and hands him the reins to the Kid’s mount. “The other passengers might be in danger if the Devil’s Hole Gang hears the stage that Kid Curry was riding in was attacked and they decide to come looking for the Kid.”

“Don’t worry, Sheriff,” replies the deputy confidently. “We’ll get him locked up in no time at all.”

“Right, well we’ll be along as soon as the other stage gets here and picks these good people up. Can’t leave them without any protection now. We’ll ride with them and make sure they get safely on to town.”

The deputy nods and nudges his horse along taking the Kid’s horse with him as the sheriff watches them leave.

“Sheriff!” It’s the injured driver calling him. He walks over to check on him.

Ya know, Sheriff,” begins the driver, “Kid Curry wasn’t actually a passenger on my stage.”


“Nah – ya see it was like this…” but the driver can’t finish because we see the second stage arrive at the scene. The passengers are gathering together again and there is a buzz of excited chatter as the stage comes to a halt. The sheriff looks at the stage and back to the first driver and gives an impatient tut.

“We’ll talk again,” he promises before getting up to meet the new driver who has gotten down from his perch and is heading towards him. “Okay, everyone,” he calls. “Stage is here. Let’s get you all aboard.”


Quick pan back to Heyes and Grimsby as they finish their break and start preparing to go on with their journey.

“The railroads!” exclaims Heyes, swinging himself up into his saddle.

“Shhhh…” hisses Grimsby, looking around in fright as he mounts Kid’s ex-horse.


Back to the Kid, who has been brought into town. The townspeople are surprised to see just the deputy and one other man escorting another tied man over to the jail. People mill around the horses with questions as the deputy gets the Kid down from his horse and brings him into the jailhouse.

“Where’s the stage, Deputy?”

“Who’s this?”

“What’s happened?”

The deputy turns to the small group which has gathered around. “Stage should be just behind us. We saw it just after we left the other passengers. This here is Kid Curry. He was travelling as one of the passengers, but I recognized him right away. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get him locked up.”

And with that, he departs into the jailhouse taking a reluctant Kid with him. The crowd buzzes at the news.


Back to Heyes and Grimsby who are riding again.

“So let me get this straight,” says Heyes. “The railroads bought your farm from you?”

Grimsby nods, and Heyes continues, “So you and a few friends figure the railroads are buying the land with a view to running a rail line through your town.”

“Yes, well they more or less admitted that was what they were planning, and why buy the land otherwise?”

“Why indeed? And now you’re secretly looking to buy real estate in the town with the hope of building a hotel and suchlike before word gets out about this and prices go through the roof?”

“You’re making it sound criminal,” complains Grimsby, flustered.

“It’s certainly a little bit sneaky, but I’m fine with that,” answers Heyes with a grin, but his smile fades as he looks into Grimsby’s worried frown. Then he nudges gently, “You were saying before that it was complicated? What have people in Denver got to do with all of this?”

Grimsby looks annoyed. “It’s not complicated – at least it won’t be when things are clearer. I just wish I knew why the company in Denver is being difficult. Basically, we approached people there who would be able to build a hotel for us. My friends wouldn’t consider trying to buy land in town without the building project to go with it. They’re a bit nervous about doing all this on our own.” Grimsby sighs and goes on, “But the company in Denver is now suddenly being a bit ‘funny’ about it all even though I signed a contract saying that we would only build with them, but I can’t quite get them to completely cooperate with what we want. They keep finding problems and giving deadlines. That’s why I needed to stay in touch when we were held up and I couldn’t get to town. I can’t have this deal falling through. We’d lose everything and my friends are relying on me.”

By now Grimsby is positively wringing his hands.

Heyes gives a cynical flick of the eyebrows. “I hope you’re being careful.” There is an advisory tone to his voice. “Sounds to me like you need to keep an eye on your people in Denver.”

Grimsby gives a look of being slightly out of his depth. “I know.”


“Evenin’, Mr. Curry.” The deputy is wearing a very pleased with himself expression.

Kid Curry emerges from under his hat and looks up at the deputy who’s holding a bowl of something. At the sight of food he sits up and takes notice.

“You’ve become quite a celebrity,” the deputy informs him as he passes over the bowl of gunk and a spoon to go with it.

“Thanks,” says the Kid cynically, although whether he means for the food or the information is unclear. He starts eating right away as the door to the jailhouse opens and the sheriff himself comes in.

“Yeah,” the deputy continues, “the town is full of the news that Kid Curry was on the stage that was robbed and is now a guest in our jail. You can’t imagine the speculation about what he was doing riding the stage.”

“He wasn’t on the stage,” the sheriff informs his deputy bluntly and the Kid looks up from his food. “He came along afterwards.” The deputy looks surprised and the sheriff gives the Kid a skeptical glare. Curry shrugs. “I’ve just got in from getting the passengers organized into that poor excuse for a hotel this town has, but I managed to squeeze in a very informative chat with the stage driver afterwards.”

“What’re you saying, Sheriff?” asks the deputy.

"I'm saying that after the attack, Kid Curry and another man rode up to the stage together. Doesn't take much to figure that man was probably Hannibal Heyes. And now it seems they met up with Grimsby of all people and Heyes has gone off with him and they’ve both disappeared.” The sheriff has come very close to the bars of the cell now. “So, Mr. Curry,” the sheriff is speaking slowly and there is an undercurrent of threat to his words, “I want to know what is going on.”

The Kid sighs, utterly unmoved by the sheriff’s words or stance. “It’s Thaddeus Jones and, as for wanting to know what’s goin’ on,” he puts down his bowl, appetite gone as his eyes meet the sheriff’s, “me too.”


Heyes and Grimsby arrive at Barkhold Creek, slightly weary and looking saddle-sore. The town seems to be positively humming around them. It’s very lively with many people out on the streets and talk in the air.

Heyes looks at Grimsby, “Is the town usually like this?”

Grimsby shakes his head as they pull up to a railing and he dismounts. “No, it’s usually pretty quiet here. It must be the stage. Something like that is bound to cause a stir.”

A passerby frowns at him. “Haven’t ya heard the news yet? It ain’t just the stage that’s got folks all worked up. We got Kid Curry locked up in the jail!”

Heyes pauses just as he’s about to dismount. “What?”

Grimsby wraps the reins loosely around the railing and steps closer to the passerby. “What are you talking about, Marcus? When did they catch him?”

Marcus looks at Grimsby in surprise and beckons him closer with a finger. The camera zooms in on the two of them. “He was on the stage! Deputy recognized ‘im when they went ta pick up the passengers an’ brought him back here right away before the others got back – wanted to get ‘im locked up quick. Everyone’s wonderin’ what he was doin’ on the stage and whether his business was here. There was no sign of Hannibal Heyes with ‘im. Deputy says he’d‘ve recognized ‘im.”

Grimsby gives Marcus a puzzled frown. “Kid Curry on the stage? What did he look like?”

Marcus shrugs, “Oh, just like they say in the posters. Young, blond, blue eyes, brown hat, blue shirt, though it’s hard to imagine he’s the fastest gun in the West just by looking at ‘im. In fact he looked pretty personable to me.”

The camera now briefly focuses closely on Grimsby as his eyes go wide. “Blond, blue eyes...wait a second,” and the camera pulls back to take in the larger picture as Grimsby spins around to face his recent riding partner. However, we see that both horse and Heyes are no longer there.


The scene jumps and we now see Grimsby sitting in the sheriff’s office looking like a frightened rabbit as the sheriff towers over him in interrogation mode. “So you’re telling me you made a deal with Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes and they just gave you a horse for free so you could ride off with Hannibal Heyes because you suddenly needed to get to Hudson – and they just ‘happened to come along to help?’”

“That’s exactly what happened,” cries Grimsby, his voice squeaking with anxiety, “…and I didn’t need to get to Hudson, just to the nearest town so I could get in touch with some people to let them know where I was.”

The Kid is watching this exchange quietly from his cell.

“’People’ from Barkhold Creek!” the Sheriff growls. “I happen to be one of those ‘people’ and I would’ve found out about you when the telegram came through from Hudson. There was no need for you to send a personal telegram unless you’re up to something.”

Grimsby looks as if he might cry and the Kid gets up and comes over to the bars of the cell. He opens his mouth about to speak when the door to the jail bursts open and three others come in.

Everyone looks up and Grimsby’s face changes from despair to hope. “Jude, Frank, Art! Tell the sheriff I had to get in touch with you personally so you’d know I had managed to make the stage and that everything was okay!”

The three men look at Grimsby and then simultaneously their eyes turn first to the Kid up at the bars in his cell before settling on the sheriff.

“It’s true, Sheriff,” confirms Jude. “We didn’t know he’d made the stage and we’d told him to be in touch with us if anything happened to him while he was away. He’s been seeing people about what to do with the money he’s got from selling his farm and we’d‘ve been worried if he lost touch with us.”

“Doesn’t do any good if people suddenly know a man’s got a spare dollar or two in his pocket after all,” adds Frank.

The sheriff gapes at Grimsby. “You don’t mean to tell me you were carrying that money with you on the stage! Have you gone out of your mind, Karl-Maria? Wait a minute… Has it been stolen?!!”

Grimsby or ‘Karl-Maria’ now cringes. “Please don’t call me that, Sheriff,” he pleads, glancing over to the Kid’s cell in embarrassment. (Yes, the coolest outlaw in the West is still standing there and must have heard.) “And no, I didn’t have it with me. I’m not that stupid.”

The sheriff grunts as if he’s not quite sure about that statement.

“Sheriff, he wouldn’t do that,” Art goes on to reassure. “We wouldn’t let him so don’t worry. We’re looking out for him.”

All three men are nodding vigorously and Grimsby’s eyes continue to plead. The sheriff takes in all four men and sighs. “Alright, I believe you,” he grumbles. “Just get out of my sight. You make me downright scared just listening to your stories. I don’t think I wanna know any more.”

The men don’t need telling twice. They scuttle out of the door quicker than you can say Karl-Maria.

The Kid watches as the door closes behind them and looks at the sheriff. "Tell me that's NOT his first name!" he exclaims, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hair.

The sheriff lets the ghost of a smile quirk at his lips. “Yeah: ‘Karl’ after his grandfather, and ‘Maria’ after the Virgin Mary.” Now he’s smiling although clearly trying to control it.

The Kid looks incredulous.

“It’s a German Catholic tradition,” explains the sheriff. “His mother was German and quite a formidable lady I can tell you. You wouldn’t have wanted to cross her. She insisted on the name because apparently it’s quite common over there, but it’s cost Karl-Maria a lot of ribbin’ growing up in the West. It’s why he stays formal and likes to go by his family name. Can’t say I blame ‘im.”

The sheriff now turns and sits back down at his desk.

The Kid shakes his head with a wry grin. “I can’t blame him either. In fact, I know someone who does something similar; although, when he hears about Karl-Maria’s name, he might just decide his ain’t so bad after all!”


It’s dusk outside as the camera follows the four men who have left the sheriff’s office. They are briskly walking along the street and obviously in deep discussion although we can’t actually hear what they are saying.

The camera changes and we see them arriving at the front of a small house where the unfortunately named Karl-Maria Grimsby moves up to the porch before turning to wave goodbye to his three fellows.

“Get some sleep, Grimsby,” Jude tells him. “There’s nothing we can do tonight anymore.”

“We’ll be over in the morning,” Art promises him.

“Yeah, we’ll sort everything out then.” This is from Frank.

Grimsby nods, but his worry lines are deeply engraved in his forehead and he doesn’t sound happy as he answers, “Okay, goodnight, then,” before unlocking his front door and going inside.

Once inside, we hear him strike a match and put a flame to a lamp. As light floods the room we hear a familiar voice.

“Looks like we both have a problem.”

Grimsby gasps, jumps and almost knocks the lamp over as he comes face to face with Hannibal Heyes sitting on his favorite chair in his living room.

“What are you doing here?” squeaks Grimsby, the fear on his face despite the obvious tiredness.

“I’m hoping we can help each other.” Heyes remains seated and non-threatening.

Grimsby has taken off his coat, but is clutching it to his chest as if it were a lifeline. “I know who you are.”

Heyes seems unmoved. “You think you do.”

“I do – and you need to get out of here.”

Heyes’ eyebrows rise. “Aiding and abetting outlaws to escape? You don’t want to turn me in, then?”

Grimsby’s shoulders hunch and he subsides into a chair opposite Heyes, still holding his coat but there is no fight left in him. “I’m too tired to turn you in and I’ve got enough worries of my own without trying to work out how to catch an outlaw.” He looks up into Heyes’ eyes. “Especially not one with as formidable a reputation as yours.” He sighs and sinks his head into his hands. “Please just go.”

Heyes leans over towards the other man. “Mr. Grimsby,” he calls, causing him to look up once more, “I’d like to help you.”

Grimsby looks surprised for a moment and then his eyes narrow. “Why?”

“I’ve heard enough of your story to know when something isn’t right about the deal you’re making. Believe me, yours couldn’t be more wrong – and I reckon I could do something about it.”


Heyes puts on his most sincere face. “Because I reckon you could do something about my problem in return.”

“And your problem is?”

“My partner is in jail and I need to get him out.”

“I told you I know who you are.”

A shrug from Heyes. “What do you say?”

“I don’t know the first thing about breaking people out of jail!”

“I can show you what to do. You just need to be the one to do it.”

Grimsby is still very unconvinced. “And what if you can’t help me with MY problem?”

“I tell you what,” reasons Heyes. “If I find out that your deal is good, then you are under no obligation to help me get my partner out of jail and I won’t bother you anymore.” He gets up now and looks seriously down at Grimsby. “That good enough?”

Grimsby sighs and nods miserably. “Okay. Now will you go?”

Heyes gives him a wide grin. “Thank you.” He marches over to the front door. “Your friends are coming over tomorrow, aren’t they?”

Another morose nod.

“I should have what you need by then.”

And on that cryptic note, Heyes goes out into the night leaving poor Karl-Maria alone with his very unhappy thoughts.


The following morning has Jude, Art, Frank and Grimsby all sitting in his front room.

“I can’t believe we’re all sitting here waiting for Hannibal Heyes,” says Art.

“I can’t believe he wants to help us, not rob us!” adds Frank.

“I can’t believe you told him about our deal,” accuses Jude.

“I didn’t exactly tell him,” defends Grimsby. "We were just riding together for a while and he has a way of finding things out somehow.”

“And he says the deal is a bad one?” asks Frank.

“Well, we’ve been wondering ourselves,” replies Grimsby. “Look, he said he’d find things out for us and if he finds if that everything is okay then we won’t owe him anything.”

“We owe him? You never mentioned owing him.” Jude is still accusing in his tone.

Grimsby sighs. “Only if he finds out our deal is bad. Look, I was tired and I just wanted him to leave so I agreed to help him if he helped us. I don’t think he can help us so it doesn’t matter what he wants us to do in return.”

“And just what is it that he wants us to do in return?” asks Jude, pinning Grimsby with a glare.

“Break my partner out of jail,” replies Heyes.

“How did you get in here?” Jude has turned to see Heyes standing by the door.

“Just walked in while you two were busy arguing,” comes a cheerful reply as Heyes strides into the center of the small gathering. “Now, shall we talk about this?” He holds up a handful of papers and smiles.

“What have you got?” asks Grimsby.

“Information…for a price,” answers Heyes.

“You made the deal with Grimsby, not with us,” says Jude sharply. “I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t just throw you into jail with your partner.”

“If you do that, you’ll end up ruined and broke,” Heyes tells him smoothly. “On the other hand, if you help me get my partner out, I promise I will make sure you don’t lose all your money on a double-crossing deal.” He looks at the men in the room for a second and, when they look undecided, he turns to leave.

Seeing him about to go, Grimsby jumps up. “Mr. Smith – er…Heyes! I’d really like to see what you have there. I won’t turn you in, you have my word.”

Heyes stops and turns. “And our deal?”

“I’ll help you if you’ll help me.” Grimsby looks around at his friends. “I can’t speak for my friends about helping you but,” and now he looks pleadingly around the room at his friends, “I know they wouldn’t turn you in after this either.”

At this the others nod, which seems to be good enough for Heyes. He comes back into the room and puts the papers out on the coffee table between them. “Okay,” he says sitting down. “I did a little looking around last night and ‘found’ the contracts for your deal in the safe at the city hall.”

“You broke into the safe in the city hall?” asks Frank, incredulous.

“I had to. I didn’t know the combination.”

“You really ARE Hannibal Heyes!” says Art, his eyes shining in awe.

Heyes spares him a brief glance before continuing. “These are documents and letters pertaining to the acquisition of land and building rights in this town with a view to building a hotel, a saloon and a large mercantile store. The deal here is between the town council and a company called ‘The Denver Clan Building Industries.’ I’m assuming that is the company you are dealing with?” Heyes questions.

They all nod.

“There is no mention of any other parties in this particular deal. In other words you are not a part of it.”

The men are looking at Heyes in confusion.

“How can that be?” Grimsby asks. “They have a contract with us to build a hotel. We are paying them to build it.”

“You are mentioned in a separate document,” answers Heyes, “but you aren’t making the deal. Look.” Heyes points to some writing further down the page where the name Mr. K. Grimsby is visible.

“It says that you are under contract to finance the hotel with The Denver Clan Building Industries. They will be buying the land and building the hotel which will then belong to them in everything but name. You will be financing it. In other words, they are using your name to put the town council at ease, and your money to build themselves a nice little business venture in an expanding community. The separate deals have all been very cleverly worded. It’s only when you look very carefully at all the documents together, that you can see what‘s going on. By the time anyone from the town would work it out, the deal would have gone through.”

The four men look dumfounded.

“That information valuable enough to get me my partner busted out of jail?” asks Heyes.

Grimsby nods distractedly. He has gone quite pale. “They’re planning to take everything. What can we do?”

“That’s easy,” replies Heyes. “You copy the papers and take them to the mayor, town council, whatever, and you make sure they understand what is really going on. You need to make sure that it’s clear that YOU have been misled by the Denver Clan and it was YOUR plan to buy the land and build the hotel yourselves to be owned by you. They were only supposed to organize the building work. You then ask the council to draw up new documents to that effect and get them signed and sealed before The Denver Clan realizes they’ve been found out.”

“We’ll go to the mayor right away,” says Frank. The others look at Heyes in wonderment.

“Unfortunately though,” says Heyes, “You’re going to have to build with The Denver Clan Building Industries because you already signed that deal, but at least the hotel will be yours when it is built.”

“Oh, you never know,” goes on Jude. “Perhaps when the Denver Clan realizes that the deal has changed, they might decide to pull out and we’d be rid of them altogether.”

That thought brings a smile to everyone’s lips.

“Okay,” says Heyes, back in his business voice. “Now for getting my partner out.”

“Oh, Grimsby can do that easily,” says Art airily. “The cell keys are always in the safe and he knows the combination.”

“What?” It’s Heyes’ turn to look dumfounded. Grimsby smiles and looks slightly uncomfortable.

“Yeah – he can get him out when the sheriff is off doing one of his rounds tonight. At the moment, this is still a small town and, even with a famous outlaw in the jail, we only have one sheriff and one deputy and they can’t always be there.” Frank is grinning.

“I can’t believe it would be that easy.” Heyes’ brows furrow. “Won’t the sheriff ask questions?”

“Probably,” answers Grimsby, “but I’ll be able to talk my way out of it. I’ll tell him we talked about it while riding together and you seemed surprisingly interested in the workings of the jail. I’ll remember you asking where the sheriff keeps his keys and I told you. How was I to know you are Hannibal Heyes and that you can crack a safe. The sheriff thinks I’m a bit naïve. He’ll believe me.”

“I think I’m just beginning to realize just how much we’ve both been underestimating you,” Heyes grins. “You’ve got a deal.”

“Good.” Grimsby turns away to gather up the papers busily and then disappears through the door muttering, “I need an envelope for these.”

Heyes turns to Jude with a puzzled air. “How does he know the combinations to the sheriff’s safe?” he asks, pointing to the door that Grimsby has just left through.

Jude looks to where Heyes has signaled and his countenance changes to guilty mirth. “When he was younger, a lot of other kids gave him a real hard time on account of his first name,” Jude tells him. “Sheriff used to send ‘em all packing regularly and then I think he took pity on poor Grimsby being all alone. He often let him come play in his office. ‘Course spending time there meant he saw the sheriff open that safe dozens of times and he learned the numbers.” He shrugs. “No one’s ever changed them and I doubt the sheriff has any idea that Grimsby knows the combination. I mean, would you tell him if you knew it?”

Heyes is shaking his head with a wry grin as Jude continues, “We only know because later on we used to make him open the safe as a dare when we were kids.”

Heyes looks at Grimsby now walking back in. “What’s his first name then?” he whispers to Jude.

“Karl-Maria,” whispers Jude.

Grimsby spins around to face them with a horrified expression. “Just Grimsby is fine.” His agonized face is almost enough to wipe away their smiles…but not quite. Grimsby frowns.

“Sorry,” says Heyes.

“What for?” asks Grimsby sarcastically, “My name or my having to live with it?”

Heyes shrugs. “Point taken. Well, anyway, I should return these papers to their safe tonight so you’ll need to make copies of them before that.”

“I can arrange that,” says Jude. He’s back to business now too.

Heyes nods. “Bring them back here when you’re done.” Now he turns to Grimsby. “And you’ll break my partner out?”

“Tonight,” confirms Grimsby. “Probably about the same time as some papers are being returned. Then I think it’s best if we meet somewhere outside town. I’ll bring the Kid to you.”

Heyes nods again. “Thank you.” It sounds heartfelt. “Now, you’d best get started on copying those documents.”


Once more the light is fading as the camera shows the front of the jailhouse just as the sheriff is coming through the door to make one of his evening rounds. He saunters off and all seems quiet.

Now the camera shows us the inside of the jail where the only occupant of the cells is under his hat trying to pass the time by sleeping.

The office door opens and someone comes quietly in.

“Back quickly, Sheriff,” comes a comment from under the hat. (Not asleep after all then.) “Or did you forget something?”

“It’s not the sheriff,” comes the answer.

The Kid pulls his hat off his face and sits up in one movement. He looks at the man who has gone over to the safe and is now carefully manipulating the dial. “Karl-Maria!”

The man stops turning the safe dial and the voice pleads. “Just Grimsby – please!”

“What are you doin’?”

“Getting the key to the cell.”

The Kid is up at the cell door holding on to the bars. He looks surprised and very curious. “Thanks. Why?”

“Your partner is waiting for you about a mile out of town. I’ll take you to him and explain on the way. Now shush.”

Kid shushes as the safe is opened, the key taken out and inserted into the cell door. Grimsby lets him out leaving both the safe and cell doors open and then ushers the Kid out through the door.

Outside two horses are waiting for them. Grimsby mounts one and the Kid goes to the other. “My horse!” He’s smiling as he pats her nose and then, he too, mounts. They ride quickly out of town and we hear the Kid’s voice. “Okay, now tell me what’s goin’ on.”


Heyes is sitting on his horse a little way off the dirt road and shadowed by a few scrubby trees so he’s not quite so exposed since it is a clear night.

Hearing the sounds of hoof beats now he pulls back further into the shadows.

Two horses stop and the riders look around. The Kid’s silhouette is clearly visible as Grimsby’s voice pipes up. “This is where we’re supposed to meet up.”

Heyes comes forward out of the shadows. “Hey!”

“Heyes,” says the Kid. “You did it.”

“Not me,” answers Heyes. He jerks a thumb at Grimsby who is trying not to look smugly pleased with himself and failing utterly. “Thank you,” he adds looking to Grimsby.

“Yeah, thanks,” adds the Kid pushing his hat back by the brim.

“You’re welcome,” answers Grimsby. “And, after breaking Kid Curry out of jail, dealing with the Denver Clan should be a piece of cake.”

“You know, Grimsby, I reckon you’ll go far; at the rate you seem to be learning anyway,” says Heyes.

Grimsby bows his head in acknowledgment. “We’re all going to a meeting with the town council and the mayor tomorrow morning. I feel pretty confident that we can make our case. After all, I know them all pretty well. Sheriff’s on the town council, too, you know.” He looks quickly at Heyes as if just remembering. “You did get the papers safely back in the safe alright?”

Heyes grins. “Piece of cake.”

“Of course. Well,’ve got your partner back.” Grimsby’s eyes glance over to the Kid. “So I guess this is where we part ways.”

“Yup, I reckon we’ve pretty much outstayed the town’s hospitality and you’ve got things to do,” says Heyes. “We’d best be going.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more,” says the Kid starting to move his horse from where it is standing next to Grimsby over to where Heyes is standing.

Grimsby coughs and both ex-outlaws look at him. “Just one little thing,” he says.

Questions marks are clearly visible above the partners’ heads. They glance at each other, puzzled.

“Your horse, Mr. Curry,” says Grimsby pointing at the Kid’s mare.

“What about her?”

“It’s actually still my horse…”

“What!” The Kid is looking at Heyes accusingly. “You didn’t buy me a horse?”

Heyes looks at Kid, shock registering in his eyes, and then over to Grimsby. “I forgot.”

“Great, Heyes.” The Kid does not look happy.

“I could sell her back to you if you want,” suggests Grimsby. “After all, I don’t need her anymore. I actually have my own horse so I was never planning on keeping her.”

“How much?” asks Heyes, suspiciously.

“What I paid for her.”

“What?” A chorus of ex-outlaw outrage.

“Fine – Then I’d like my horse back, please,” says Grimsby simply. “I’m not sure you’ll get another offer around here right now, but then that’s not really my problem I suppose.”

Kid looks back to Heyes. “You still got the money?”

Heyes nods and takes it out from his inside coat pocket. Reluctantly, he holds it out towards Grimsby who nudges his own mount over to Heyes and takes the wad of dollar bills from him. “Do I need to count it?” he asks.

“Never got a chance to spend any of it,” answers Heyes miserably.

Grimsby seems happy with that and tucks the notes away.

Heyes watches him. “You’re really learning way too fast,” he comments.

Grimsby smiles again. “It’s been a pleasure learning from the best.”

The Kid sighs. “Let’s go before he suddenly thinks it’d be a great investment to turn us both in,” he gripes, and turns his horse towards the road heading away from town.

Heyes follows him as Grimsby turns his mount back in the direction of town. “Bye fellas,” he calls cheerfully.

Neither partner bothers to answer as they head off into the horizon.

“I can’t believe he thought of making us buy your horse back,” mutters Heyes.

“Somehow, I don’t think we need to worry about him letting someone pull the wool over his eyes again,” muses Curry.

A short silence as they ride.

Then a smirk from Heyes. “If we ever meet again, though, I’ll get my revenge.”

“Yeah?” The Kid raises his eyebrows and looks at his partner in the dusky light.

There is a very amused glint in Heyes’ eyes. “Yeah. I’ll never call him anything but Karl-Maria. C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

And on that note they kick their heels down and ride off into the night.

(Writers love feedback! You can let Allegra know how you enjoyed the story with a quick comment. Just Post Reply - to the Comments for My Kingdom for a Dang Horse thread below the story. )

Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, the two most successful outlaws in the history of the west. And in all the trains and banks they robbed, they never shot anyone.
Back to top Go down

 Similar topics

» large horse
» cox engines horse power
» Silver Millennium Forum: Earth Kingdom Adventure!
» favorite schleich horse? RETIRED!!!
» Horse Made in China
Share this post on: diggdeliciousredditstumbleuponslashdotyahoogooglelive

My Kingdom For a 'Dang' Horse by Allegra :: Comments

No Comment.

My Kingdom For a 'Dang' Horse by Allegra

Back to top 

Page 1 of 1

Permissions in this forum:You cannot reply to topics in this forum
Stories: Alias Smith and Jones  :: Virtual Season :: Virtual Season 2011/2012-
Jump to: