Starring Pete Duel and Ben Murphy
Robert Pattison as Cory Fallon
Robert Mitchum as Quentin Fallon
Cameron Mitchell as Edwin Dolan
Ben Johnson as Joe
Intense, blue eyes focused intently on the large winged bird circling languidly above in the clear azure sky. One eye squinted closed, in contemplation, before the man lowered his gaze from the glare of the sun. Tilting his wide-brimmed brown hat, further over his face, Kid Curry urged his horse forward to catch up with his partner Hannibal Heyes.
Heyes rode, chin on his chest, head bobbing with the motion of his horse.
“D’ya reckon the next town’s much further, Heyes? Don’t fancy another night sleepin’ out. It gets pretty chilly in these parts at night and I’m tired of wakin’ up cold and stiff!” Curry shook his head and added “… and hungry too!” When he got no response from his partner, Curry called his name again.
“Hmmm?” came the distinctly lackluster reply.
“You ain’t sleepin’ in your saddle, are you?” Curry asked, the humor of this thought clear in his voice.
Heyes’ head immediately snapped up.
“Course not! I was just deep in thought,” came the terse response.
Curry allowed himself a smile before continuing, “What’s got you so thoughtful? The beautiful scenery? The joy of being alive on a day like this! Or maybe it’s our lack of funds or the possibility that we’re completely lost in the middle of nowhere!”
“Actually, I was considering how difficult it would be to find myself a new partner!” Heyes remained straight-faced, while said partner stared at him in astonishment, until he could hold his composure no longer and the corners of his mouth twitched, a mischievous twinkle appearing in his dark eyes.
Curry rolled his eyes in exasperation at his partner’s obtuse humor.
“I mean, seven years is a long time to be with the same partner and you ain’t getting any younger. I may have to find myself someone with quicker reflexes, someone more able watch my back!”
“You know, you may be right, Heyes. I might need a partner who talked a little less and could come up with some plans which could make some real money – honestly.”
“Now, Kid, be fair. We haven’t done so badly and I’ve gotten you out of a few tricky situations. You don’t really think you’re going to find someone else with a mind as brilliant as mine, do you?”
The question was met with a stony silence. The ongoing banter had been thankfully brought to a halt when something in the distance attracted Curry’s attention.
“Aw, come on, Kid. You know I’m not serious,” said Heyes, taking Curry’s distracted muteness as a rebuke for his quip.
“Huh? No – it’s ….. Heyes, what d’ya reckon that is?” Heyes followed the direction in which Curry was pointing and stared into the open, sandy wilderness, periodically interspersed with rocks and occasional vegetation. At first he couldn’t see anything but then a movement caught his eye.
“Looks like someone walking, Kid!”
“Out here, in this heat? Reckon we ought to go check they’re alright.”
“I think we ought to mind our own business and not get involved,” came Heyes’ unequivocal reply.
“But they might be in trouble and …”
“If they’re in trouble, that’s a real good reason not to get involved,” Heyes commented, with certain finality.
With a humph at his partner’s cautious nature, Curry turned his horse in the direction of the lone walker. With a sigh of exasperation, Heyes followed.
As the two riders drew closer, it became apparent that the stranger was limping badly. The simple task of walking had become so arduous he stumbled every few staggered steps, his left hand clasping his left thigh. It was only when Heyes and Curry were quite near that he realized he had company. He juddered to an unsteady stop and turned to face them.
A boy of about seventeen stood staring defensively at them, a sheen of perspiration covering his face. He licked his lips and Curry noted that his hand had dropped instinctively to his side, to an empty holster.
“Easy now,” Curry assured him. “Just wanted to see if you needed some help.”
The boy continued to glare at them, eyes flicking from one to the other. He shifted the weight onto his right leg and balled his fists, grimacing with the pain it caused.
“Pretty unusual to see a person walking out here, alone, in this heat,” Heyes added, keeping his tone light and friendly.
The boy’s breath was heavy and labored from the physical exertion.
“Here.” Curry tossed a canteen in the boy’s direction, which he caught in a swift, smooth movement.
Still watching them warily, the boy removed the top from the canteen and drank thirstily, gulping down mouthfuls of the lukewarm water. After he had finished, he lifted the canteen and poured some of its contents over his head. Wiping the excess liquid from his face he mumbled his thanks, before securing the lid and throwing the canteen back to Curry. The movement caused him to let out a gasp and clasp his left leg with his hand.
“Looks like that leg is givin’ you some trouble,” Curry commented.
“Some,” the boy responded.
“What’s your name, son?” Heyes asked.
“I’m not your son!” the boy retorted insolently.
“No, no you ain’t,” Heyes replied, with a chuckle, leaning forward on the saddle horn, fixing the boy’s defiant stare with such intensity, it made him shift uncomfortably.
“I’m Joshua Smith and this is my partner, Thaddeus Jones. Now we’ve acquainted ourselves, how about you do the same?”
“Name’s Fallon. Cory Fallon,” came the surly reply.
“Well, Cory Fallon, looks like it’s your lucky day!”
“I wouldn’t go as far as saying that!” the young man replied wryly, through clenched teeth, as his injured leg protested once more.
“How’d you come to be out here, without a horse?” Curry asked.
For a moment Cory hesitated, biting his lip as he considered his answer.
“I was on my way home when my horse threw me. Guess a rattler or something must have spooked it. Hurt my leg when I fell and by the time I was back on my feet the damn horse had run off!”
“So where’s home?” Heyes inquired, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the boy thoughtfully.
“The Four F,” came the mumbled response.
“Come again?” Heyes frowned, while Curry sat quietly studying the boy.
“The Four F Ranch, ‘bout five miles that a way,” Cory responded, more clearly, pointing west.
“That’s quite a way to walk on that leg,” Curry told him.
“I guess!” Cory gazed in the direction in which he had just pointed.
“Need a ride?” Curry kicked his left boot free of the stirrup and gestured behind with his head.
Cory looked from Heyes to Curry with some uncertainty and then, after a moment’s deliberation, limped to the horse’s side. Awkwardly he raised his left leg towards the free stirrup and, with some difficulty, managed to place it in the keep. As he went to grab the back of the saddle, his leg began to buckle but Curry reached out and took hold of his arm with a strong grip and hauled him up onto the horse behind him.
“You alright?” Curry questioned him, over his shoulder.
‘Uh huh,” Cory responded half-heartedly, struggling to ignore the fierce pain that burned inside his thigh.
Heyes raised his eyebrows at Curry, who responded with a shrug of the shoulders, before turning his horse and leading in the direction of the Four F Ranch.
***************
As they rode along, Heyes probed Cory for more information.
“Four F? Interesting name for a ranch. Any story behind it?”
Cory raised his head from behind Curry’s back, where it had slumped, grimacing in pain as he did so.
“You ain’t heard of it?”
Heyes shook his head. “No. Should I have?”
“Most folk hereabouts have.”
“Well, that explains it! We’re not from around here!”
Cory looked nervously at Heyes, from behind Curry, “What you doing here then?”
“Looking for work.”
“Where you from?” It was Cory’s turn to ask the questions now and Heyes to be on his guard.
“All over. We drift around a lot.”
Curry caught his partner’s eye and frowned. Wanting to divert the boy’s inquisitiveness, he directed the conversation back to the ranch. “So, why the Four F?”
“It’s because of my family – me, Pa, Ma and my kid brother – four Fallons.”
“That sounds real nice!” Curry commented.
“It was. Should be the Two F now, with just me and Pa left,” he continued sourly.
The trio slipped into silence, with only the rhythmic beat of the horses’ hooves to deaden the quiet.
Another fifteen minutes passed before the ranch came into view and Heyes called out, “Home, sweet home!”
Cory shifted nervously behind Curry.
“You alright?” Curry asked.
“I haven’t seen my pa in a while. Not sure what sort of reception I’m going to get,” he informed them.
“How long you been away?”
“’Bout a year.”
Heyes drew his horse alongside Curry’s. “Why’d you leave? Looks like a pretty nice set up,” he said, as he looked down at the array of well-maintained buildings, which included a good-sized ranch house, a couple of large barns and an assortment of smaller outbuildings.
“Me and Pa had a bit of a disagreement so I decided to take off on my own for a while.”
“For a whole year?” Curry didn’t disguise the surprise at the length of time a boy of Cory’s age had been away from home.
“Thought it would be for the best.”
“So why’d you decide to come back now?” Heyes asked.
Cory did not answer immediately and avoided eye contact with the dark-haired man, who raised his eyebrow sceptically at his partner.
“We going to sit here all day or we going down there?” asked Curry.
“Yeah, let’s get it over with,” replied Cory with a grateful look.
****************
They descended the track, which led to the ranch compound. Cory gripped Curry’s jacket tightly, gasping with pain several times.
All was quiet as they came through the main gate and the place seemed deserted until a loud bang came from the direction of a barn, as a door slammed shut.
A tall, sturdy man, in his mid-forties, appeared through the doorway. The sound of hoof steps alerted him and he looked up at the approaching riders.
“Can I help you fellas?” he called out, his tone neither unfriendly nor totally welcoming.
Heyes was about to respond when Cory peered around Curry’s shoulder.
“Howdy, Joe!”
“Well, I’ll be!” It wasn’t clear from the man’s expression if he was glad to see the boy, as the look was one of total astonishment. His feelings were soon made clear by the broad grin which appeared on his face.
“It’s good to see you, young Cory! We were beginning to think we’d never see you again,’ the man babbled as he strode over. “Get down offa that horse and let’s get a proper look at you!”
Cory shifted himself backwards and, with Curry’s assistance, dropped off the horse. As he hit the ground he grimaced in pain and held onto the horse’s neck for support.
“You’re hurt!” the man said, looking accusingly at Curry and Heyes, going to the boy’s side and putting a protective arm about him.
Once Cory explained about falling from his horse and how Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones had come to his aid, Joe’s demeanour changed instantly. Holding out a hand to Curry and bobbing his head at Heyes, he said, “Mighty obliged to you. Mr. Fallon will be very grateful to you both, I’m sure.”
“How grateful?” Heyes inquired, causing his partner to shoot an incredulous look in his direction.
“We’ll find out soon enough!” Joe retorted, nodding behind them. Both Heyes and Curry turned in their saddles to see a group of six men riding towards the ranch.
It didn’t take long to work out which of the riders was Cory’s father. At the head of the group was a large man with strong, even features. He sported a wide-brimmed white Stetson and rode a handsome grey gelding.
“What’s going on here, Joe?”
Joe stepped forward while Cory shrunk back, positioning himself slightly behind Curry. He looked downwards then galvanized himself to raise his head to meet his father’s glower.
As their eyes met the older man’s expression became hard, his eyes narrowed, his lips drawn in a hard line. The other men in the group looked from the boy to their boss with obvious curiosity to see how both would react. Without saying a word, Quentin Fallon eased himself from the saddle and strode purposefully towards his son. For a moment he stood before him, running his eyes over him, before he reached out and pulled the boy into a firm embrace.
Shoulders sank visibly as the onlookers released an almost audible sigh of relief. Cory stood in his father’s arms, motionless, arms hanging by his side, clearly overwhelmed by the greeting. A full minute later, Fallon took a step back, placing his hands on his son’s shoulders.
“I wasn’t sure you’d ever come back.” The words were conveyed with a wealth of emotion.
“Wasn’t too sure myself,” Cory replied, but there was a flatness in his tone. His father gave a sad smile and then turned his attention to the two strangers who had accompanied his son. Both Heyes and Curry shifted uneasily under the man’s scrutiny. It was clear, by his manner, Fallon was a man who commanded respect and was used to being in charge.
“You two responsible for bringing my boy back in this state?” The man’s tone was gruff and demanded a response as he regarded them closely. Curry flicked a quick look at his partner. Just as he suspected, Heyes was bristling at the man’s abrupt manner but managed a cordial expression and response.
“He was in ‘this state’ when we found him wandering in the scrub. We offered him a ride, on account of his injury. Nothing more.” Heyes’ own tone was equally assertive and he fixed Fallon with one of his dark stares. Curry shifted position, ready to reach for his gun, should he need to back up his partner.
For a moment no one spoke, then Fallon turned to his son. “You’re hurt? Where? What happened?” he asked, his concern evident.
“It’s nothing,” Cory told him. “Just bruised my leg a bit when my horse threw me.”
“Well, let’s get you inside and get that leg seen to. I’ll get one of the boys to ride for the doctor and ...”
“I tell you, it’s fine. Don’t fuss so!” Cory interjected, his brow furrowed angrily.
Fallon raised his hands in surrender. “OK. If you think it’s alright we won’t bother the doc but I reckon you could do with cleaning up and getting something to eat.”
Cory nodded his response and started to make his way to the house. Fallon started to follow but turned back to the assembled group and regained his authoritative stance.
“Men, you’ve got work to do. Plenty to keep you busy for the rest of the day getting ready for the round up. I suggest you get on with it.” Giving the strangers one last look of inspection, the men rounded their horses and headed off to tend to their jobs.
Joe, who had remained standing nearby, also made to leave.
“Joe,” Fallon said, “Before you go, perhaps you could sort these fellas out. Give them something to eat, chance to rest up their horses.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Oh, and Joe, when you’ve finished come up to the house.”
With those brief instructions and one last look at Heyes and Curry, Fallon too headed off in the direction of the ranch house.
Both men were stunned. Was that it? After they had returned his one and only remaining son to him, was that all they were being offered? Heyes started to open his mouth to call after the man but decided against it. Shaking his head in disbelief, all he muttered was an incredulous, “Well, of all the unappreciative, arrogant ….”
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Joe interjected, before Heyes said something about his boss, which couldn’t be ignored. “He’s a mite distracted at seeing Cory. He was getting to the point where he didn’t think he’d ever see his son again.”
Joe indicated for them to bring their horses and follow him to the barn.
“Cory said he’d been away a while,” Curry commented as they walked. “Why’d he leave?”
“He and his pa just couldn’t seem to get along anymore, not after Mrs. Fallon and Bobby passed on.”
“Bobby? Was that the other son?”
“Yep. Cory’s younger brother.”
“What happened to them?”
“Fever. Poor Mrs. Fallon nursed that boy day and night but weren’t nothin’ she could do. ‘Bout a week after Bobby died, she fell sick too. It was like she’d given up. A week after burying his son, Mr. Fallon buried his wife too.” Joe shook his head sadly at the memory.
Heyes’ natural curiosity made him probe further. “So why’d Fallon and Cory fall out? Seems to me he’d want his son with him at a time like that.”
“Oh, he did. Thing was, Cory was fast becoming a man and Mr. Fallon wanted to keep him a boy, keep him close. Boy’s always had a wild streak in him and I think he needed to find his own way in the world, so one day he said he was leavin’. Mr. Fallon was pretty broke up but when he couldn’t persuade him to stay he became angry. There was one helluva row and Cory took a beating from his Pa. Next day he just upped and left. We ain’t seen or heard from him until today.”
A look of understanding passed between Heyes and Curry.
Once they had taken care of their horses, Joe pointed them in the direction of the bunkhouse.
“I’d best get up to the house. You should be able to get washed up over there and get yourself some coffee. I’ll arrange something for you to eat.”
Both Heyes and Curry nodded their thanks and parted company from Joe.
They’d only had enough time to sort themselves out and were just finishing their first cup of coffee when Joe returned, carrying a couple of plates of food. They weren’t sure what Fallon had said to the man but his demeanor was somewhat changed. Where he had seemed relaxed and jovial before, now he appeared agitated and abrupt.
“Here,” he said, handing each a plate.
“Thank you, Joe,” Heyes said amiably.
The older man shifted uncomfortably.
“Everything alright up at the house?” asked Heyes, lifting a biscuit to his mouth but keeping his eyes trained on Joe.
“Yeah, fine.”
“Only you seem a little jumpy.”
“Yes, everything’s fine. Look, Mr. Fallon said to tell you that you can stay the night, here in the bunkhouse.”
“That’s mighty generous of him,” replied Heyes with only a hint of sarcasm compared to his real feeling at the offer.
“The boys aren’t a bad lot and’ll make you welcome. Might even deal you into one of their regular poker games,” Joe continued, in a friendlier but noticeably strained voice.
At this news, Heyes gave a broad grin and commented, “Ain’t that nice, Thaddeus?"
****************
Joe had been right. The other hands seemed amiable enough and were only too keen to allow the two strangers to join in with their poker game.
The subject of Fallon junior’s return to the ranch was touched on briefly but the ranch hands proved to be a loyal bunch and would not be drawn into any detailed conversation.
After a while Curry began to lose interest in the cards and asked to be dealt out. Deciding his gun was about due for a cleaning, he rose from the table, to get his saddlebags from the barn where he’d left them earlier.
Walking across the yard, in the gloom of the evening, he saw a figure slip furtively into the barn. He was pretty sure it had been Cory. Curry quietly approached the building and slid through the doorway. He waited for a moment, as his eyes adjusted to the light. A lamp flared at the other end of the barn and he could make out the boy’s hunched silhouette. Drawing closer it became apparent Cory was tending to his leg.
“Everything alright?” Curry asked in a low voice.
Cory almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of it, his hand instinctively reaching for the gun strapped to his other leg. He was quick but not as fast as Curry, whose own instincts made him do likewise.
“Hey, it’s just me. Jones. Didn’t mean to startle you!”
For a few seconds Cory didn’t speak, his eyes fixed on the weapon, which had appeared in Jones’ hand so swiftly. Seeing the boy’s expression, Curry slid his Colt back into its holster and crossed his arms across his chest.
Finally regaining his composure, Cory holstered his own gun and snapped, “What d’you expect, sneaking up on folk like that?”
“I wasn’t sneakin’. Guess you were a little preoccupied with what you’re doing,” Curry replied smoothly and calmly. “See you’ve got yourself another gun.”
“Yep. Joe lent it to me until I can get myself a new one.”
“Don’t seem necessary to carry one around here.”
“I like to be prepared!” Cory replied brusquely.
“For what?” Curry replied.
There was no response this time. Cory merely avoided looking at Curry and made to pull his pants back over his leg.
From where he stood, Curry could see a dark, discolored bandage. The injury was more than a bruise. It appeared to have bled a lot and by the look of the brighter red, had been bleeding fairly recently.
“Here, let me take a look. I’ve had to tend to my share of cuts and bruises in my time.”
Cory was about to refuse the offer but the steely stare the older man gave him told him Jones wouldn’t be taking ‘No’ for an answer.
Peeling back the bandage, Curry peered at the wound and then turned his gaze to Cory.
“You didn’t do that fallin’ from a horse. Did you get the bullet out?”
“It just skimmed me. Wasn’t deep,” Cory replied glumly.
“I take it you haven’t told your father about this.”
“No! And you’re not going to either!” the boy shot at him.
“None of my business,” Curry replied coolly, “but you need to clean that up properly else it’ll get gangrene.”
“I don’t know how.” Cory looked up at the Kid, like the boy he truly was. Curry’s shoulders sank.
“You should get a doctor to look at it.”
“You said you knew how to do this!” Cory said angrily, the pain beginning to show in his face.
“That was before I knew it was a bullet wound. I don’t fancy having to answer to your father if it don’t heal right.”
“He ain’t gonna know. ‘Least I won’t let on it was you helped me.” Curry considered this for a moment but the look of pleading in the boy’s eyes soon persuaded him otherwise.
“I’ll need some hot water or whiskey – or iodine, if you know where I can find some.”
Cory’s expression brightened. “There’s some whiskey hidden in the tool box and some iodine in the tin on the shelf. Joe uses it for the horses, the iodine that is! The whiskey’s for him!”
With an understanding smile Curry went to get them.
“Guess we’re going to have to do without the water. This is going to sting some but I’ll do my best,” Curry told the boy, as he squatted down and began to clean the wound.
***************
“Can I speak to you a moment, Joshua?” Curry asked in a low voice, leaning over Heyes’ shoulder, as he pulled in another pot from the center of the table.
“Can’t it wait?” one of the hands asked. “He’s got most of my money and I want a chance to get some back!”
The Kid glared at Heyes and the pile of money in front of him. Heyes gave his partner a sheepish grin.
“I won’t be long fellas. I’ll give you a chance to win it back in a couple of minutes.” He gave them one of his more charming smiles as he scooped the pile of coins in front of him, into his hat, before scraping back his chair and following his partner outside.
“What do you think you are doin’, Heyes?" the Kid asked when they were out of earshot. "I thought you weren’t gonna skin those hands, to keep ‘em from gettin’ upset with us.”
“If we are leaving in the morning we’re gonna need some money to live on, aren’t we? Especially as it looks like we’re not gonna get rewarded for bringing Cory home, does it?” He paused and looked at the Kid smugly. Then he continued, “What’s up?” he asked, as he tipped the coins from his hat to his hand and transferred them to his pocket.
“Trouble, that’s what,” came Curry’s serious response.
“What sorta trouble?”
“Fallon junior, sorta trouble.”
“I told you helping that kid was gonna be trouble, but would you listen? Nope! You had to do the Good Samaritan act.”
“If’n I hadn’t played the Good Samaritan, that boy’d be dead by now.”
“How come?”
“He didn’t hurt himself fallin’ from a horse. He was shot.”
“SHOT?” Curry merely raised his eyebrows at Heyes’ overly loud reaction.
Grabbing the Kid by the arm, Heyes pulled him further from the bunkhouse.
“Who shot him?”
“He ain’t sayin’.”
“What’s his father gotta say on the matter?”
“He ain’t told him.”
“So how come he told you?”
“He didn’t tell me. Found him in the barn, trying to doctor his leg.”
“Did he tell you anything else?”
“Nope!”
“Didn’t you ask him?”
“Heyes, you’re always tellin’ me to mind my own business and stay away from trouble. A boy with a bullet hole in his leg seems like trouble to me!”
Heyes pursed his lips and nodded his agreement. “What d’you wanna do?” he asked.
“Don’t seem much we can do. Best we just keep out of it and move on in the morning.”
Heyes put his hands on his hips and considered the options.
“Good idea, Kid. But maybe I should lighten the burden of temptation by removing some of the extra money those hands have…”
“…and place it on those who can handle it better?” the Kid grinned.
“ Heyes nodded his agreement to his partner and, with his hand on the Kid’s back, steered him back to the bunkhouse.
***************
The following morning Heyes and Curry were tightening the cinches on their horses, preparing to leave, when Joe came scurrying towards them.
“You boys ain’t plannin’ on leavin’ are you?”
Heyes pushed his hat to the back of his head, squinting questioningly at the man, while Curry merely looked up briefly, before adjusting his bedroll.
“Well Joe, you’ve been mighty hospitable but there don’t seem much to keep us here so we’ll be moving on,” Heyes told him.
“Mr. Fallon would like to see you up at the house,” Joe replied agitatedly.
A dimpled grin creased Heyes’ face and a larcenous glint came into his eyes, as he anticipated the reward Fallon would offer, for the return of his son.
“Well, we’d better not keep him waiting!” he said, flipping his horse’s reins back over the hitching post. Curry allowed himself a small smirk of satisfaction before following his partner to the ranch house.
They followed Joe into the spacious house and were led through a large sitting room at the back. A loud conversation could be heard coming from a room. Quentin Fallon’s raised voice seemed agitated. Joe stopped outside the door and hesitated before knocking cautiously.
“Come in!” boomed Fallon.
As they entered the room the door slammed shut and a stormy faced rancher stood behind them.
“My son’s horse was found shot – dead. You two know anything about that?” he asked accusingly.
“Why would we know anything about that, Mr. Fallon?” Heyes kept his voice level but his anger at the allegation was clear.
“You were the one’s who brought him back and …”
“Yes, we brought him back safely. He was walkin’, or at least tryin’ to, when we found him,” Curry interjected. “Look Mr. Fallon, you and your son are of no interest to us. We thought we were doing a good deed bringin’ him home. This really is none of our business so if you don’t mind, we’ll be leavin’ now.”
Curry made to leave but found his way blocked by a drawn gun, held by the ranch hand, with whom Fallon had been talking when they had come in. With a sigh, Curry gave the man a withering stare and turned back to face Fallon.
“Look, this really isn’t necessary. Mr. Smith and I don’t want no trouble. Perhaps you’d do better talkin’ to Cory to find out what happened to his horse.”
Fallon glanced from Curry to Heyes, then gestured to the hand that the gun wouldn’t be necessary.
“You’re right. I’ll talk to Cory when he wakes up. I actually asked to see you because I wondered if you needed work. With the round up looming I could do with a couple of extra hands for a week or two and wondered if you’d be interested.”
The partners exchanged a look. “Could I talk this over with Mr. Jones?” Heyes asked.
Fallon furrowed his brow. “Alright. I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”
With a nod, he indicated to Joe and the gun-toting ranch hand to go and, giving Heyes and Curry one last sweeping look, left them to talk.
Curry went to the door and listened, satisfied when he heard retreating footsteps. “What d’you reckon?”
Heyes folded his arms and frowned. “Dunno, Kid. We could do with the work but I hate ranching and there’s something that don’t feel right.”
“You get that too, huh?” Curry crossed to the window and, pushing the curtain to one side, peered out.
“There’s something about the way Fallon keeps looking at us and of course, there’s the son with a bullet wound in his leg.”
“Don’t forget all those hands you took money off of last night! Don’t think you made many friends there either!” Curry said wryly.
His partner smirked. “Perhaps not but I did get us a stake. I vote we say thanks but no thanks.”
“Think I’m gonna agree with you on this one, Heyes!”
Having come to a decision they went to find Fallon to tell him their decision.
***************
The rancher was standing with a group of his men when they found him. All eyes turned to Heyes and Curry and stopped talking as they approached the group.
“Mr. Fallon. Thaddeus and I have talked it over and we appreciate the offer but a good friend of ours mentioned a job and we wouldn’t want to let him down, so we won’t be staying.” Heyes extended his hand to shake Fallon’s but it was ignored. A low murmur went through the men.
“Well now, that’s a shame as I was really hoping you’d stay. You sure you won’t change your minds?”
“No thank you, Mr. Fallon. If it’s all the same to you, we’ll be movin’ on,” replied Curry, tipping the brim of his hat with his finger.
“Well boys, I’d really like you to stay. In fact I insist that you stay!”
At those words all the ranch hands drew their guns and pointed them at Heyes and the Kid.
Taken aback, Heyes could only manage, “What’s this? There must be some kind of mistake.”
“Take their guns, men!” Fallon instructed. “No mistake, boys. You see, I wasn’t certain at first but the more I thought about it, I was pretty sure I’d seen you some place before.”
“That’s no reason to point guns at us, Mr. Fallon!” Curry scowled as his Colt was removed from its holster.
“I remember seeing you in the Dry Gulch First Bank and you were robbing it,” came Fallon’s confident response.
Heyes’ Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He gave a perturbed frown, cocked his head to one side and smiled coolly at the rancher, as he too was relieved of his gun. “I think your memory must be playing tricks on you. Don’t know who you think me and Mr. Jones are but I can assure you we do not rob banks or trains!”
“On the contrary, Mr. Heyes. I understand you’re rather good at it!”
Heyes swallowed hard. Curry appeared outwardly calm and un-phased by the allegation. Heyes focused his attention on Fallon and the Kid kept a wary eye on the gun-toting hands.
“Look, we’ve been mistaken for those two despicable criminals before but …”
Fallon cut Heyes off mid sentence. “I remember you well, Mr. Heyes. It’s not every day a bank robber apologizes to you for jumping the line!”
Heyes’ eyes widened at the comment but he remained outwardly passive.
“It must have been the most courteous of robberies I’d ever witnessed but it does not alter the fact, you robbed a bank at gun point – yours, in fact Mr. Curry – and frightened a whole passel of people out of their wits.”
“Still say you’re making a mistake!” Heyes continued his defiance.
“That may be, but I don’t think so. We’ll let the sheriff make that decision, shall we?”
Just at that moment Cory appeared from the house.
“What’s going on?” he called out.
“Just sorting out a little problem, son,” Fallon returned. Curry scowled at his being referred to as ‘a little problem’.
“Can I talk to you?” Cory asked, as he made his way across the yard, walking awkwardly on his injured leg.
“I’m busy right now.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“It’ll have to wait, Cory. “
“No, Pa. I need to speak to you – now.”
As he neared, it became clear, by the sheen on his face, the boy was running a fever. Fallon was torn for a moment, whether to deal with Heyes and Curry or tend to his son. As Cory suddenly staggered, the decision was made for him.
“Tie these two up and put them in the grain store. We’ll take them into town later,” he directed his men. Heyes and Curry found their hands being bound behind their backs, with leather thongs, before they were pushed roughly towards a stone-built shed.
In the meantime, Fallon went to his son and began to guide him back to the house. Cory let himself be led but looked back over his shoulder, as the two men who had come to his rescue, were escorted away.
“What’s going on, Pa?”
“Let’s get you back to the house and I’ll tell you.”
***************
Heyes tried to continue to claim their innocence as they were manhandled inside the grain storage room but got no response from the men in charge of them.
One of the men who had been in the poker game the previous evening with Heyes handled him particularly roughly. Just as they were about to enter the building Heyes found himself being pushed against the wall. Curry immediately spun around and tried to come to his partner’s defense but he was held firm by two of the other ranch hands.
“Hey!” Heyes’ protest fell on deaf ears, as he was pushed against the wall and the man rifled through his pockets.
“Think this belongs to me and the boys!” he said, pulling out a roll of bank notes, with a rueful grin.
Heyes and Curry were then unceremoniously shoved into the grain store and the sound of a heavy bolt was heard being drawn across the heavy wooden door.
“Well, that’s just great!" griped Curry. “There goes our stake!”
Heyes stared at his partner. “Geez, Kid! Glad to see you’ve got your priorities sorted!”
Oblivious, Curry turned his back to him, saying, “It’s your turn.”
“I did it last time,” Heyes replied but turned round and manoeuvred himself into a position where they could reach each other’s bindings.
Continued in part two
