Curry is missing and accused of robbery & murder - any chance of amnesty is gone! Heyes has to find his partner and get back the amnesty deal. An extended version of a Virtural Season by the same name.
Day They Kidnapped Curry
by Penski
Hannibal Heyes shook the canteen before opening the cap and taking a long drink of warm water. He removed his bandana and poured some of the precious liquid on it, wiped his face and then tied the wet material around his neck again. “That feels better.” He took off his hat and was running his fingers through his matted hair when he noticed the birds. Four large birds rode the thermals as they flew in a circle around their prey near a rock formation. Heyes squinted against the sun, straining his eyes in the direction of the predators' quarry, then, knitted his brow as he placed his hat back on his head and reined his gelding toward the boulders.
One brave vulture landed near the rock formation. As Heyes drew closer, the form of a human came into view. A cold sweat came over him, despite the heat of the day, and he spurred his horse forward, shouting and flailing his arms at the threatening scavenger. He dismounted before his gelding had come to a full stop and scrambled toward the figure.
"Kid?" he called, hoping against hope that he was wrong, it wasn't his partner, he wasn't too late. Heyes knelt and slowly rolled the man onto his back and his fears were confirmed. "Kid!" Curry's face was sunburned and his lips cracked. His skin was hot to the touch. "Don't you be dead, you hear?!" he admonished, placing an ear to his partner's chest. He held his breath, listening for some sign of life then, swallowed hard and lay three fingers carefully along his partner's neck.
Monday Morning – Two Weeks Earlier
“Heyes, I know I’ve said it before, but I don’t like the idea of us separatin’.” Curry, frustrated, tightened the cinch of the saddle too hard, causing his horse to turn and try to nip him.
Heyes frowned as he tied his saddle bags down, thinking back on the few times when things went wrong because they separated; Santa Marta, especially, came to mind. “I don’t like the idea myself, but we’re outta money and got two delivery jobs. Can’t afford to say no to either of them and they’re in opposite directions.”
“I know,” the Kid agreed as he mounted his bay. “That don’t mean I like it though.”
After cinching his saddle, Heyes put a leg up on the stirrup and swung himself on. “It’ll only be a week – five days.” The men grasped hands. “See you in Green River.”
“On Friday!” the Kid said, as he reined his sorrel to the west.
“Last man back buys the other a steak dinner!” Heyes called out.
Curry turned and grinned before spurring his horse into a lope outside the town limits.
Friday afternoon
Heyes eased into a chair on the Green River hotel’s porch and propped his legs up on the rail. He lit a cigar and sighed contently as he took in the town’s activity. He gave a dimpled smile to two young women, laden with packages of all sorts and sizes. In the distant he heard the blacksmith pounding out metal. A young boy ran alongside a wheel ring while a few girls played jacks on the boardwalk. Raucous laughter and piano playing came from several saloons, beckoned him.
“Guess you owe me a steak dinner, Kid,” Heyes said to himself as he stood and stretched before crossing the street and heading to the least boisterous of the saloons.
Saturday
Heyes walked down the stairs of the hotel to the lobby desk. “Excuse me.”
A portly gentleman stood behind the counter, stuffing messages into cubby holes. He turned and smiled. “How may I help you, Mr. Smith?”
“My friend didn’t arrive last night, did he?”
“No, sir.” The man shook his head. “I would have given him a key to your room, as you requested.”
“There wouldn’t, by chance, be a message for me?” Heyes leaned forward to check the cubby hole with his room’s number on it. It was empty.
The clerk glanced at the last few notes in his hand. “No, there doesn’t appear to be. Maybe there’s one waiting still at the telegraph office.” He looked apologetic.
“Where is that, again?”
“Take a right out of the hotel, then a left once you pass the bank. It’ll be on the left side of the street.”
Heyes tapped the counter as he turned to leave. “Thanks.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
That evening, Heyes sat at a low stake game of Twenty-One, glancing across the room at a high stakes poker game. He sighed in frustration, wishing he was in that game, but one of the players was clearly drinking too much and another was showing all the signs of being a professional gambler. He knew it would be asking for the nastiest kind of trouble if he tried to get involved in such a game without his partner watching his back. His mind drifted back to their farewell and agreement to meet at Green River on Friday ‘at the latest’. Now, it was Saturday night and still no word – not even a telegram. If the Kid was delayed, he would have at least sent a…
“Did you want a card?” The dealer’s voice brought him back to the present.
“Huh?” Heyes questioned.
“Another card?” the dealer repeated in irritation.
Heyes looked at his cards. “Oh… Hit me.”
“Nineteen; the dealer wins.”
The drunk playing poker across the room abruptly stood up, chips and cards falling on the floor as he tipped the table. “I saw you cheat,” he bellowed at the professional gambler, pulling out his gun.
Heyes suddenly felt weary. He threw down his cards, gathered his meager winnings, and left.
Sunday
Morning had come and Heyes was still alone. Walking out of the hotel, he looked up and down the street, finding no one milling around there either. ‘The good folks are all at church,’ he thought to himself. Indeed, as he listened, somewhere to his left he could clearly hear the non-harmonious sounds of a choir, whose sense of pitch equaled that of the off-key piano accompanying them. And from the right he became aware of the booming shouts of what was clearly a full blown fire and brimstone sermon coming from where a second church must be situated. He grimaced, glad that he was too far away to make out the words and headed instead in the direction of the nearby café and the promise of a cup of strong coffee to shake off the night. He wasn’t overly worried, he told himself, he just hadn’t slept well. As he passed he poked his head into the livery to see if the Kid’s horse was there.
It wasn’t.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
By evening Heyes had to admit to himself that he now really was worried.
He paced his room. “Where in the heck are you, Kid?” he mumbled. Hearing a horse slow in front of the hotel, he hurried to the window and glanced down. Not the Kid. Heyes sighed heavily and continued his pacing. “You should have been here already.”
He continued his pacing deep into the night, his brow furrowed in anxiety. By the morning he’d made up his mind.
Monday
“Sir, are you checking out?” the hotel clerk asked.
“Yes.” Heyes stood at the counter with his saddle bags over one shoulder and his rifle in his hand. “Was there a …” He’d already noted the empty cubby hole but wanted to check.
“No, sir, still no messages for you.”
“Can I leave one, just in case my friend, Thaddeus Jones, comes?” Heyes pulled a sealed piece of paper from his pocket.
“Certainly, sir.” The clerk took the proffered note. “However, we only hold messages for one week.”
“Appreciate it.” Heyes paid his bill and left town, heading west.
Tuesday
Heyes stretched after getting off his gelding, leading his horse to the water trough. It was now Tuesday afternoon and it had been a long, hot ride to Evanston as he stopped in every place along the way looking for his partner. Removing his bandana, he wet it using the trough’s pump and wiped his face clean from the trail dust. Once the chestnut quit drinking, Heyes led his horse to the hitching post outside the saloon, rubbed its nose and whispered, “My turn now, huh?” before making his way inside.
The saloon felt dark and cool, after being out in the heat of the day. Waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust, Heyes glanced around the room briefly looking for his partner’s face as he made his way to the bar. When the bartender looked up, Heyes threw a nickel down on the counter and held up a finger. “One beer, as cold as you got ‘em.”
“Comin’ right up!” The man filled a glass and slid it down the bar to Heyes’ waiting hands.
Tired, worried and thirsty from his journey, Heyes closed his eyes as he took the glass to his lips, savoring the first few gulps of thirst quenching beer. When he opened them again he found he had less than a moment to take in the sight of a tall, dark-haired man rushing up behind him in the bar mirror. His eyes widened in shock as he put down his drink on the bar but there was little time to react before the man was pressing against him, pinning down his right arm and hissing in his ear, “We need to talk, now, Heyes!”
Heyes looked over his shoulder to see the stranger who knew him. “Lom? What are you …”
The hold on his arm strengthened. “Come with me.”
“Okay, but…” Heyes barely had time to grab his glass his left hand before he was manhandled to a back corner table. Shaking off Lom’s grip, Heyes scowled as he sat down next to the sheriff. “What’s this all about?”
“Why don’t you tell me? Lom growled.
The dark eyes grew black. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lom leaned forward. “Where’s your partner?”
“Why?”
Lom’s eyes narrowed, taking in Heyes’ tired and haggard appearance but he wasn’t about to give the ex-outlaw a break. “It’s a simple question, Heyes.”
Heyes glared back at the lawman but saw only steely-eyed determination there. His shoulders slumped. He really was tired he thought to himself. “I don’t know where he is,” he admitted staring at the glass of half-finished beer in his hands. “I’m looking for him, too.”
“Are you protecting him?”
Heyes looked up, startled by the anger behind Lom’s words. “What? No!”
Lom snorted, cutting Heyes no slack whatsoever. “You don’t know where he is?”
“No, we were both doing delivery jobs and he never…” Heyes paused as he realized he was missing something and he felt his own temper rising. “Lom, just what’s this all about?”
“I was hoping that you would tell me,” Lom replied angrily, pulling out a newspaper from the inside pocket of his jacket and throwing it down between them like a gauntlet. “Is the Kid running with another gang, maybe? Or are you in this too?”
“What?” Heyes eyes snapped down to the newspaper as he tried to take in what Lom was accusing them of.
He took the paper and scanned the news until he found the article Trevors was obviously talking about and read the headlines, “Kid Curry Sought for Evanston Bank Robbery, Murder!” Heyes silently read the rest of the article, his face morphing from shock to disbelief. He looked up into Lom’s face when he had finished. “I don’t believe it.” He shook his head. “You know as well as I do that the Kid would never…”
“It’s there in front of you,” Lom snarled as he gestured to the newspaper. “In black and white! Curry even bragged to folks who he was before killing the teller. What am I supposed to think, Heyes?”
“I don’t know who that was, but it certainly wasn’t…”
“Witnesses have his description down perfect,” interrupted Lom, “– even the sheepskin jacket and the brown hat with silver and turquoise conchos.” Lom found his voice rising and quickly lowered it. “Sound familiar?”
Heyes smacked his hand down on to the newspaper lying on the table, his eyes almost black with anger. “The Kid wouldn’t do that – you know that, Lom!” he hissed. “And he wouldn’t up and join a gang without telling me!”
A saloon gal had begun making her way over to their table, but paused when Heyes slammed his hand on the table. Lom looked briefly in her direction and shook his head. After waiting the few seconds it took to make sure she was completely out of earshot he folded his arms in a standoff gesture. “I honestly don’t know what to think, so why don’t you give me your story as to what’s been going on.”
Suddenly all the air seemed to go out of Heyes’ body. He stared at the lawman sitting next to him, as if willing him to be a friend, and sighed. “We were down on money and took two different delivery jobs. I headed southeast and the Kid went west. He was going to a ranch between Green River and Evanston. We were supposed to meet in Green River on Friday, but he never showed. I waited ‘till Monday and then decided to go look for him.” Heyes took a sip of beer. “The papers were delivered so I know he came by this way. And that’s all I know.” He took the paper up and scanned the contents as if looking for something. “When did the robbery happen?”
“Friday morning.”
Heyes put the newspaper back down and stared suspiciously at Lom. “You’re kinda far from Porterville, Lom. Why are you here?”
Now it was Lom’s turn to look tired. “The governor heard about it and sent me down here to look into things since I’m an ‘expert’ on Heyes and Curry.” Lom’s voice lowered further and he looked down as he reluctantly admitted, “Curry’s amnesty deal is gone, Heyes, and, when they catch him, he’ll be hung for murder.”
Heyes ran his hand through his hair. “I figured as much.” After a brief pause, he continued, “Do you know what gang? The paper didn’t say.”
“Sounds like Ma Harper’s boys. They’ve been running around in this area lately.”
Heyes shook his head. “No way would the Kid get involved with that lot! Something’s wrong here. I know it ‘sounds’ like Curry, but it’s not.”
Lom shook his head. “You find the Kid and bring him to me. I’ll listen to what he has to say. If there’s any doubt, then I’ll do my best to help you.” Lom stood up then and looked down at Heyes, the betrayal he felt visible in his eyes. “But, so help me, if he really did this, I’ll be there when they put the noose around his neck.”
Heyes stood up, anger at Lom’s accusation causing him to spit out. “You won’t have to be there, Lom, because he didn’t do it! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get my partner and find out what really happened.”
Lom acknowledged Heyes’ anger with a nod. “Be careful! I don’t want to hear you’re involved in the next robbery.”
Heyes merely turned away but Lom grabbed his arm again. “The governor’s about to withdraw his deal with you, too. There’s a lot at stake here.”
Heyes’ eyes narrowed and Lom withdrew his arm. “Yeah,” he answered. “There’s a lot at stake – my partner’s life!”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to check out places Harper’s gang has been known to haunt,” Heyes hissed. “Brown’s Park. And if they’re not there, Robbers’ Roost.” And, adjusting his hat, Heyes marched from the saloon.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Heyes headed south from Evanston, after filling up on supplies. The land became more arid with few trees. The gelding wound around the sage when a trail was no longer visible.
Heyes’ mind went back to the newspaper article and what Lom told him, remembering each minute detail. The Harper gang came into the bank around noon. There were five of them, so the three Harper brothers and two more, he reasoned. The bank had customers – businessmen, women, and children. A curly-haired man, wearing a brown hat with silver rectangular conchos and wearing a sheepskin jacket boasted he was Kid Curry. An older teller didn’t move fast enough and was killed by this “Curry.” Only $500 was stolen and the bold gang quickly rode out of town. They didn’t have the manager open the safe, but took only the money from the tellers’ windows.
To Heyes, there was something very odd about the whole scenario. Nothing about the story fitted. This was a ruthless gang and Friday was the best day of the week for finding a full safe. There was no way that the gang wouldn’t know that, yet they didn’t touch it. The only conclusion Heyes could draw from that was that the gang must have actually been there for another reason, a reason that involved the Kid. Heyes just couldn’t work out how, but now the Kid was wanted for murder and, as he rode on, Heyes felt a pang of genuine fear for his partner knot his stomach.
That evening, Heyes camped on the trail, alone. The high desert, though hot and punishing throughout the day, could be downright chilly at night. He crouched closer to the flames of his small fire and pulled a blanket around his shoulders.
Was Curry curled up in a warm bed, hiding out with the Harper gang, or out here wandering, in the cold?
Heyes took a bite of jerky.
Was the Kid eating bunkhouse stew, or was he going hungry tonight?
A lonely coyote called, searching for its mate.
Was his partner alive, or…?
Heyes refused to finish the thought.
Wednesday
Heyes started out early, heading for Brown’s Park, one of the hideouts on the outlaw trail that Lom had mentioned as somewhere the Harper brothers could be holed up. It was a place he and the Kid had avoided at all costs since they had begun their quest for amnesty. The members of the Devil's Hole Gang may have been thieves, but there wasn't a ruthless one in the bunch. Heyes and the Kid had seen to that themselves, making certain that each and every potential member knew the rules before joining up -- no killing. The kind of outlaws who harbored at Brown's Park were a breed of their own -- a murdering breed. The thought of a trap crossed Heyes’ mind and once again he wished his partner was with him, watching his back.
Near the Green River, Heyes saw a man watering his horse. Drawing closer, he recognized the man as Clint White, and smiled. There were three Harper brothers but the robbery had been carried out by five people. If reputations were anything to go by, White was quite likely to have been involved. Heyes watched him and decided that if Kyle Murtry and Clint White weren’t related, he would be surprised. Like Murtry, Clint wasn’t the smartest outlaw, but Heyes knew he was tolerated in gangs for his ability, and willingness, to play with dynamite and nitro. Heyes had seen him only once before for a very short time. He hoped White didn’t know who he was.
“Howdy.” Heyes forced a smile, as he rode near the man. “Mighty warm today. Mind if my horse joins yours for a drink?”
Clint, surprised, drew his gun and aimed it at the traveler. “Whatcha doin’ in these parts? Purty dangerous area to be travelin’.”
“Oh, really?” Heyes feigned ignorance. “Why’s that?”
“This here is outlaw country.”
“It is?” Heyes did his best to act nervous. “I’m looking for my brother. He went missing a few days ago. Maybe you’ve seen him?”
Clint shrugged, his gun still pointing at Heyes. “I dunno. People who get lost ‘round here tend to stay lost.”
“Well maybe you remember seeing him? What he wears is pretty distinctive. He’s got this sheepskin jacket and he always wears this brown floppy hat with silver decorations around it.”
“Hey, now wait a minute!” Clint’s gun hand went briefly down as he squinted at Heyes in irritation. “That’s what Kid Curry wears!”
As soon as Clint said the words ‘Kid Curry’ Heyes had his gun out and aimed straight at the other man.
“Drop it!” Heyes’ eyes were dark with anger. Clint looked up at him in shock before complying. Heyes got down off his horse and stalked towards him. Clint took an unconscious step back but Heyes grabbed him by the shirt. “And just how would you know what Kid Curry wears? Where is he?!”
Clint’s eyes widened. “Who… who are you, mister?” he stuttered. “Why you want to know? You ain’t the law, are you?”
“Where’s my partner, Clint?” Heyes growled.
“You… you know me?” White looked at him in confusion.
Heyes ignored his question. “I’m gonna ask you one more time. Where’s my partner, Kid Curry?”
Clint swallowed hard. “You’re Hannibal Heyes, ain’t ya?”
Heyes let go of Clint, picked up his gun from the ground and put it in his own holster. He kept his own gun trained on the other man the entire time as he backed up towards his own horse and mounted. Then he gestured to the other horse still by the stream. “Get on your horse, Clint, and take me to Kid Curry, NOW!”
“Okay, okay…” White mounted his horse. “They’re this a way. They’ve been waitin’ for you.”
“Who?” demanded Heyes as he followed White’s lead.
“The Harper brothers – Ben, Josh, ‘nd Chris. Me and Les Parker, too. We’re stayin’ at Brown’s Park, for the time bein’.”
“And my partner?”
“Oh…er…he’s with ‘em,” Clint told him sheepishly as Heyes nodded for him to get going. “…but you’ll need to be talking to the others,” he added as he led the way.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Chris Harper was lying on the ground scanning the area around him from his lookout post. Usually, he wouldn’t be paying half so much attention to his job, but for the last few days the brothers had been sending Clint White to the watering hole in the hope that he’d meet up with Hannibal Heyes and bring him back to Brown’s Park. Ben had insisted that they keep an extra look out and let him know immediately if Clint appeared to have succeeded. So far they’d had no luck, and, although they knew it hadn’t been long, both Ben and Josh were getting mighty twitchy. Chris gave a half smile as he thought about that. They’d been taking out some of their frustration on the Kid…
Chris started from his thoughts as he saw two riders in the distance. “Well I’ll be…” he muttered. “He got ‘im.” He got up and rushed over on to his horse and didn’t rein up until he was in the midst of the camp.
“Ben!” he hollered jumping down from his horse. “Ben… Josh!” Ben hurried out of the cabin. “Heyes took the bait and is comin’!” He jumped off his horse. “Clint’s leadin’ him here, just like you hoped, Ben.”
Ben rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Perfect!” Josh and Les emerged from behind Ben as he went over and patted his younger brother on the back. Ben turned to Josh. “Put on the hat and jacket,” he instructed him. Josh nodded and went back into the cabin as Ben looked at the other two. “Les and Chris, be ready to bring out Curry when I say.”
Fifteen minutes later, Clint led Heyes into the compound. Heyes quickly took in the corral, two cabins and the several smaller sheds, making up Brown’s Park. The Green River ran near it, supplying its water needs.
They rode up to the first cabin, where Clint dismounted while Heyes, warily, stayed on his gelding. “We’re here!” the stocky man announced.
Ben came out of the cabin. “Welcome to Brown’s Park, Hannibal Heyes!”
“Ben Harper.” Heyes raised a brow. “Heard you’ve been waiting for me.” Then he saw another man come up behind Ben in the doorway of the cabin, a man wearing an all too familiar sheepskin jacket, and brown hat with conchos around it, and he went still. “Kid?”
“Heyes,” came the muffled reply.
The man was in shadow and Heyes was having trouble making him out clearly as he squinted into the sunlight. “Wha…?” he started to say but was distracted by the clicking of two guns and he glanced around. Chris and Les had come from the back and side with their guns pointed at him. He turned back to ‘the Kid’ trying to see him more clearly as if that would help him understand, but the man had retreated back through the cabin door. Heyes’ eyes narrowed. There was no way that that was the Kid.
Ben crossed his arms. “Give Chris your gun, Heyes, and then get off your horse. We have some catchin’ up to do, my friend.” Heyes’ eyes went to the cabin where ‘the Kid’ had disappeared. Ben caught his look and smiled. “Come on in and we’ll have us a drink.”
“I want to see my partner first,” Heyes growled as he handed his gun over and dismounted.
Ben’s eyes narrowed as if in irritation that Heyes had seen through Josh’s disguise. “All in due time, Heyes. Chris, make sure our guest doesn’t have any other weapons with him before we go inside. Clint, take care of the horses,” Ben barked out his orders.
Chris frisked Heyes and relieved him of a knife in his boot and a small derringer. “He’s clean.”
“Good. Let’s go,” Ben beckoned with his hand.
Chris gave Heyes a slight push towards the cabin. At the entrance, Heyes stopped and glared as Josh tipped Curry’s hat back, and smiled from beneath it. “Why you…” Heyes lunged towards the man, but Les and Chris quickly grabbed both of his arms and pulled him back.
“Glad to see ya remember me, Heyes,” Josh jeered as Heyes continued to struggle in the arms of his two captors.
“Heyes, is that a way to treat your hosts?” Ben tsked, as he went inside out of the heat. “Bring him here, boys.”
Chris and Les pulled Heyes further into the cabin and set him down hard on a chair.
“Can you sit there and talk like a gentleman or will they need to tie you to the chair?” Ben asked, smugly.
Heyes shook himself free of the hands still holding him. “You don’t need to tie me, just tell me where my partner is.”
“Curry is fine,” Ben snarled down at him. “And, if you just do as you’re told he’ll stay fine an’ you’ll be able to see him.” H e stopped abruptly as if catching himself before he lost his temper and fetched a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from a shelf at the back of the cabin. He poured two drinks, gave one to Heyes and sat down in front of him.
Heyes waited, not touching the drink, but Ben gulped his down and poured himself another. “It ain’t poisoned,” he sneered at the ex-outlaw.
Heyes shrugged and picked up the glass. “What do you want, Ben?”
“We’re gonna rob a train,” Ben told him, “and you’re gonna help.”
“And if I don’t?” Heyes set the glass back on the table.
“We’ll kill the Kid,” Ben replied. “Like I told ya, he’ll be fine so long as you do as you’re told.”
Heyes rolled his eyes and changed tactic. “Your gang’s been doing fine ‘till now. What do you need us for?”
Josh came up behind Heyes’ chair. “We ain’t never done a train before. You’re gonna help us with the plannin’.”
Heyes turned around to look at Josh. “And if I plan this, will you let us go?”
Ben smiled. “Sure, Heyes. Just as soon as the job is done and we’re back here safe.”
“And how can I be sure of that?” Heyes turned back to ask him.
“You’ll just have to take my word on it,” Ben replied smugly and downed his second glass.
“No,” said Heyes and Ben’s expression went from surprise to outrage. Heyes could sense the other gang members tensing up around him.
“You don’t got no choice!” Ben shouted. “I swear we’ll kill Curry if you don’t.”
“And you don’t know what you’re asking of us,” Heyes snarled back.
“You mean about goin’ straight, an all? Yeah, the Kid mentioned somethin’ about that. A waste of your talents, Heyes. I’m doin’ you a favor and you WILL help us.”
Heyes closed his eyes for a moment. “Let me see the Kid. Then I’ll decide.”
Ben glared, frustrated at Heyes prevarications. “Fine,” he ground out and looked up to Chris and Les. “Go fetch him.”
A few minutes later, they escorted Curry into the cabin. His hands were tied behind him and Chris and Les each had a hold of his arms. They stopped just inside the cabin door.
“Kid!” Heyes started to stand.
Josh, holding a gun behind him, grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down. “Just stay seated.”
Curry blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light. “Heyes, what are you doin’ here?”
“Looking for my partner who didn’t show up in Green River.” Heyes took in the bruises on the Kid’s face and his overall condition. “Are you okay?”
“Been better,” Curry replied.
“I hate to cut this lovely reunion short…” Ben gestured. “Take him back so we can continue our talk with Heyes.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Heyes caught Josh signaling to the other two to take the Kid away again. Curry began to struggle as he was manhandled back out of the room. “Heyes, whatever they want…Don’t do it!” he shouted back through the door.
Chris hit him when they got outside the door. “Shut up!”
Heyes had seen enough and, once more, attempted to stand up to go after his partner, only to be held back by Josh behind him, his hand digging painfully into his shoulder. “That wasn’t necessary!” he shouted as Ben went over to the door, closed it and leaned against it.
Ben closed the door and came around the table. He leaned against it as he stood in front of Heyes. “So you saw him. What’s your decision?”
Heyes shrugged Josh off in anger. “What train and when?” he gritted out.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
As the sun was setting, Josh and Chris led Heyes across the compound to a shed, unlocked the door and pushed him inside. The few last rays of sun shining through the cracks showed Curry leaning against the corner on the other side, his face and shirt wet with sweat and his hands still tied behind him. He looked up as the door was closed and locked, and seeing Heyes, his shoulders slumped and he gave a half-hearted yank at the bindings behind his back.
“Here, let me do that.” Heyes went over to his partner and squatted down next to him looking him in the face before signaling the Kid to move. “Got quite the shiner, too.”
Curry leaned forward so Heyes could get to his hands. “Yeah, well you should see the other guy.”
“I did, and you look far worse. Your wrists are a mess too. You could have waited.” Heyes gently untied the leather thongs and put his hand briefly on the Kid’s shoulder as he took in their surroundings. “It’s hot in here.”
“Yeah, it is now.” The Kid eased his hands forward and rolled his shoulders a few times. He sighed. “That feels better. So what do they want?”
Heyes brought over a bucket of water and sat down next to him. “You don’t know?”
“Nope, they haven’t told me anything.” The Kid rinsed the blood from his wrists. “Just kept askin’ where you were.”
“And you wouldn’t tell them and got beat up.”
Curry shrugged. “How did you find me?” He struggled tying his bandana around a wrist.
Heyes took off his bandana and tied it around one of the bleeding wrists and then helped the Kid with the other. “Lom told me.”
“Lom?” T he Kid looked at anxiously at his friend.
Heyes sat back, straightening his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “I backtracked looking for you. Saw Lom in Evanston…”
“Lom was in Evanston?” Curry interrupted. “Why?”
Heyes sighed. “He’s investigating a robbery there because it seems Kid Curry murdered a teller.”
“WHAT?!” Curry sat up and stared at his partner. “When did this happen?”
“The day we were due to meet up…last Friday. There are a lot of witnesses who are more than willing to testify that Kid Curry was involved so Lom was sent straight over to sort things out.”
Curry was shaking his head as Heyes talked. “It’s not possible.”
Heyes gave him a weary look. “Unfortunately, there are enough people who say it is.”
The Kid winced and put his head into his hands.
“What actually happened was that Josh Harper wore your hat and jacket during the robbery. Made sure the folks in the bank knew he was Kid Curry and then shot a teller who was moving too slow.”
Curry looked back up at his partner bleakly. “How do you know?”
“He showed me by dressing up as you. At first glance he sure looks like you, too, and if he told everyone he was you…” Heyes left the rest of the sentence hanging.
Curry’s head went down again as he digested this. “Damn.”
“So you’re now wanted for murder…”
“Just keeps gettin’ better and better, don’t it?”
“And I’m sorry, Kid, but the governor immediately removed his consideration for your amnesty.”
The Kid just shook his head, “Of course he did,” but then he looked up at his partner. “I just don’t understand what this is all about.”
“What’s it always about, Kid,” answered Heyes darkly. “They wanted me to come get you and to help them with their first train robbery.”
“They talked about wantin’ to rob a train.” Curry searched his partner’s face. “We’re not goin’ to…”
“What choice do we have?” Heyes asked. “If we don’t, they’ll just kill us.”
Footsteps came closer and wood scraped against wood as the bar sealing them inside was removed. Josh opened the door with his gun drawn. “Just stay where you are. No need to get up.”
Clint came in with two plates and cups. “Here’s your dinner, boys.” He put the food on the ground in front of them and left.
“See you in the morning,” Josh sneered, as he left and bolted the door shut.
“At least they’re feeding us,” Heyes commented as he reached over and handed a plate to his partner and took one for himself.
“Yeah, I haven’t been starvin’.” The Kid took a bite of the fish.
“I know you delivered the papers. How did you get here?” Heyes asked, as he took a bite of a biscuit.
“Well, Wednesday afternoon, I left the ranch and was headin’ to Green River…”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Kid Curry patted his pocket, feeling good about earning $100 for the delivery job. Everything had gone more smoothly than he thought and he was headed back to Green River by Wednesday afternoon to meet up with his partner. With the luck he was having, he might even get back first. Thoughts of the steak dinner made his mouth water.
Curry was nearing a rock cropping when several shots buffeted the path before him, sending up rocks and dust, spooking his horse. As the Kid fought to gain control on his bay, five men surrounded him, guns drawn.
“Get your hands up!” one of them ordered.
The Kid glared as he raised his hands, still holding on to the reins. “Of all the luck,” he murmured.
One rider, with dark curly hair, came up on the right side and removed Curry’s gun from its holster. He stopped and stared, before breaking into a smile. “Why, if it ain’t Kid Curry.”
Curry looked at the man and those surrounding him. “Josh Harper… Ben… Chris.” He turned to see the other two men in the gang. “Les Parker and Clint White joined up with you, huh? What are you doin’ in these parts?”
“We’re lookin’ to do better for ourselves,” said Chris, the younger brother. . “Movin’ up closer to the railroad lines to rob us a train.”
“Haven’t heard of you boys robbin’ trains before.”
“Oh, we haven’t yet,” Ben, the oldest brother, informed him. “Haven’t heard much about you and Heyes lately.”
“Can I put my hands down, seein’ you have my gun?” Curry asked, as he slowly moved his arms down. Ben nodded so he continued. “Me and Heyes retired from the business.”
“You what?!” exclaimed Josh. “Why’d you do a dang foolish thing like that? You and Heyes were so successful.”
“Yeah, well, time’s a changin’. Safes are gettin’ harder to open, posses are gettin’ bigger, and word gets out too fast with the telegraph.” The Kid leaned on his saddle horn. “Maybe you boys should think about it, too.”
Ben spit out some chaw. “Damn shame with as smart as Heyes was at plannin’ jobs. We sure could use a Hannibal Heyes plan for our first train robbery.” He squinted as he stared at the Kid. “Where is Heyes?”
“Don’t rightly know where he is.” Curry returned the stared.
“What? You not knowin’ where your partner is?” Josh chuckled. “Where one is, the other is usually nearby. Everybody knows that.”
“And if I said I didn’t know, I mean, I don’t know.” The Kid sat up straighter. “It’s been nice chattin’ with you, boys, but if you’ll give me my gun back, I’ll be goin’ now.”
“Don’t think you’ll be goin’ nowhere, Kid. Not without tellin’ us where Heyes is. I want to talk to him about this train robbery.” Ben turned to his younger brothers. “Josh and Chris, Mr. Curry is gonna be our guest for awhile. Until he remembers where his partner is.”
“And if I refuse?” Curry spat.
“Don’t see you’re in any position to say, one way or another.” Ben beamed, as he ordered, “Josh, make sure you have him covered. Chris, tie his hands up, nice and tight.”
The Kid was about to spur his horse forward when four guns cocked.
Ben rode up and put the barrel of his pistol at the Kid’s temple. “As I see it, Curry, you have two choices. You can let Chris tie your hands or you can wake up with a splittin’ headache and hurtin’ from ridin’ like a sack of potatoes.”
Kid Curry put his hands behind his back and allowed Chris to tie them.
They rode south for a few hours, twisting along the paths around rock croppings and sagebrush, leading into a valley. Crossing the Green River, they came to an area with several cabins, a corral, and a few small sheds. Curry noted the security to the entrance of the hideout, along with the dilapidated condition of the buildings.
Ben held out his arms. “Welcome to Brown’s Park, Curry! Clint and Les, you’re on guard duty.”
“Shore thing, Ben,” Les said, as he reined his horse around. “Com’on, Clint.” The two gang members went back the way they came.
Josh and Chris, meanwhile, pulled the Kid from his gelding as Ben dismounted his horse. The brothers each held his arms when Ben walked up to them and spit some chaw on Curry’s boot. “You’ve had a couple hours to think. So where’s your partner, Kid?”
Curry glared, his blue eyes becoming glacial with anger.
“I’m talkin’ to you! Ain’t polite not to answer back.” Ben backed up. “Brothers, maybe we should teach Mr. Curry some manners.”
Chris punched and then back-handed the Kid’s face; his lip split. Josh smiled and quickly turned, putting his fist into the Kid’s stomach, causing him to double over. Chris threw a blow to the back of his head, making him fall to the ground. Curry grunted and moaned, but did not cry out or say a word. The brothers continued to work him over.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Ben looked down at the Kid when his brothers were finished. “Where’s Hannibal Heyes?”
The Kid looked up with one good eye and the other swelling. “Go to hell!”
Ben kicked him in anger. “Get him out of my sight! Put him in the old tool shed.” He put a pinch of tobacco in his mouth. “Gonna have to figure out a way to flush out Heyes.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“So they did the robbery in Evanston just to get you here?” The Kid repeated almost to himself.
“Yeah,” said Heyes quietly. “I’m really sorry, Kid.”
Curry looked at him. “Don’t you go makin’ this all about you! It’s my reputation on the line and it’s my amnesty that’s done gone up in smoke.”
Heyes smiled at the Kid’s banter and his effort at normality. “You think it’ll be any different for me once this is all over?” he asked.
“You reckon we’re still gonna be alive when this is all over?” countered the Kid.
“Good point,” conceded Heyes. He looked around the shack again and yawned. “Not the most comfortable room.”
“Nope – hot during the day and downright chilly at night. And now I know why they didn’t let me have my jacket. At least Clint gave me this thin blanket.” Curry held up a blanket. The last rays of daylight penetrated the threadbare cloth and two large holes were worn through its center. “Here.” Curry flipped an equally worn piece of linen in Heyes’ direction.
“Nice,” said Heyes. “Well, you’d better keep that since I’ve still got my jacket. Have you been in here the whole time?”
“Pretty near. They let me out a couple times a day to stretch. Got to wash in the river one day.” Curry paused for a moment before confessing. “That was after they went off and left me hog-tied all day and night in here.”
Heyes’ eyes shot to his partner’s in shock.
“Soon after I got here.”
“They needed to rob the bank,” Heyes muttered. “That would have been last Friday.”
Both men were silent for a moment as all that had happened sunk in. However, almost against his will, Heyes was overcome by another yawn. “Think I’ll get some sleep.”
The Kid gave a half-smile. “Haven’t been sleepin’ well? Worryin’ about me?”
“About you? Nah…” Heyes smiled and settled down, tucking his jacket around him for warmth.
“Heyes?”
“Hmm…”
“How are we gonna get out of this mess? Especially me bein’ wanted for murder?”
“Not sure, Kid. Give me some time and I’ll figure something out.”
"Guess we're in it pretty deep this time, huh?"
"Pretty deep," Heyes agreed.
"Think you can think us out of it?"
“Sure, Kid, if I was allowed to get enough sleep!”
A long silence followed. Murderers hanged, the Kid knew, and everyone now thought of him as a murderer, except Heyes. Curry’s mind went back to Santa Marta and the possibility of being in front of the firing squad. Now he imagined himself being led to a gallows and walking up the steps. The noose placed around his neck and tightened. There wasn’t much chance of escaping this time and he wasn’t going to bring down his partner, too.
"Heyes," the Kid began, tentatively. "Now that my amnesty's gone, maybe you and me should..."
"Go to sleep," Heyes cut in. "We'll figure something out."
"But if we can't..."
"Hey." Heyes lifted himself on one elbow and looked his partner in the eye. "Have a little faith, would you? I said I'd figure something out, and I will."
Curry wrapped the blanket around himself, as he shivered, and lay down. “I know you will.”
