Heyes looked down at his horse. Kid was right. There weren't many miles left in either animal. He reached down and tenderly caressed his animal's neck from where he sat in the saddle, genuinely sorry that he had to put her through such a test of endurance. Her coat was slick with sweat and she was still breathing rapidly from the exertion.

Heyes thought for a moment. "Kid, I think our only chance might be if we split up." Kid's eyes went wide with dismay. He didn't like the notion of splitting up at all. Before he could object, Heyes continued, "Now hear me out for a second. If we split up, we just might confuse them long enough to put some miles between us and them. Enough for us both to get away. Then we'll meet up in a few days when the coast is clear again."











The muffled thrumpp of hoof beats broke the afternoon calm. Even before the two riders came into view, the sounds of horses being ridden hard would have alerted anyone nearby that someone was in peril and running fast. As it was, only birds and other small desert creatures watched curiously as Heyes and Curry appeared over the top of the ridge; their horses exhausted by a desperate run from the posse that pursued them.

Out of sight, for the moment, of the band of men that had been chasing them for the last three days, Heyes and Curry pulled their horses to a stop, allowing them a much needed rest, however short it turned out to be. Both men were tired and dusty, not to mention hungry. They had been able to take only short breaks from the saddle since the posse started chasing them and the ordeal was beginning to take its toll. Tension radiated from their handsomely rugged faces and their nerves were frazzled almost to the breaking point, causing them to be less than cordial to each other.

"Heyes, what are we gonna do? We can't stay ahead of these guys much longer. Our horses are about done for," Kid snapped.

"Well, what do you expect me to do about it, Kid? We've tried everything I can think of to lose them but they seem to pick up our trail no matter what we do."

"All I know is, if we don't do something soon, we won't be able to run anywhere except maybe on foot."

Heyes looked down at his horse. Kid was right. There weren't many miles left in either animal. He reached down and tenderly caressed his animal's neck from where he sat in the saddle, genuinely sorry that he had to put her through such a test of endurance. Her coat was slick with sweat and she was still breathing rapidly from the exertion.

Heyes thought for a moment. "Kid, I think our only chance might be if we split up." Kid's eyes went wide with dismay. He didn't like the notion of splitting up at all. Before he could object, Heyes continued, "Now hear me out for a second. If we split up, we just might confuse them long enough so we can put some miles between us and them. Enough for us both to get away. Then we'll meet up in a few days when the coast is clear again."

Kid was still frowning. He never liked the idea of letting Heyes go off on his own, even when there wasn't a posse breathing down their necks. Even though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even himself most of the time, and most certainly never to Heyes; his partner was too important to him. He didn't want to run the risk of something happening to him when he wasn't there to see that nothing did.

Kid opened his mouth, ready to protest Heyes' latest hare-brained idea, but before he got a word out, Heyes cut him off. "It's the only way, Kid. You see that, don't you? Let's see, Gordonville is about sixty miles from here, I think. Let's plan to meet there day after tomorrow. That'll give us plenty of time to shake these guys and double back to town." Heyes smiled reassuringly at his partner, "It'll be ok, Kid. You'll see. In a couple of days, we'll be relaxing in a nice hotel room and you'll be wondering what you were ever worrying about."

Kid was still worried but knew there was no talking to Heyes once he had his mind made up on a plan and besides, there was no time for talking anyway. The posse would be catching up with them soon enough. For these reasons alone, he agreed to go along with Heyes' idea, even though his instincts told him it was a bad one. "OK, I guess we don't have any other choice."

"That's the spirit, Kid. Now you be careful and I'll see you in two days." With those words and a quick reassuring smile, Heyes spurred his horse into a run, heading south. With a final look at his friend's retreating back, Kid turned and rode in the opposite direction, moving fast.

A few hours later Kid stopped to rest his horse near a stream where they could both take a drink. He hadn't seen any sign of the men who had been chasing them since he and Heyes had split up. He figured this meant one of two things. Either Heyes' plan had worked and going separate ways had made the posse lose their trail, or the whole posse had ended up pursuing just one of them. If this was true, then Heyes could be in a whole world of trouble and he wouldn't even know about it until he got to Gordonville and looked for Heyes.

Short of heading back where he had come from, there wasn't much Kid could do except follow through with Heyes' plan, no matter how bad it was, and go wait for him in Gordonville. Still, he wished he had insisted that they stay together. He had a bad feeling that his friend was going to end up captured, or even worse, killed; all because Kid wasn't there to watch out for him.

With his horse rested, Kid set off again, making a straight course for Gordonville now that he was confident that he wasn't being followed any longer. His mood was dark because he couldn't shake the feeling that Heyes wasn't being as lucky.


* * * * *

Heyes knew how reluctant the Kid was to split up. Heck, he felt the same way himself but there didn't seem to be any other way to get that posse off their tails. He wasn't worried for himself though. He was mostly afraid that if they caught up with Kid, one of the men might be inclined to 'shoot first and ask questions later,' given Kid's reputation as a gunfighter. Kid was better with a gun than anyone but that skill wouldn't save him if some hothead decided to shoot him in the back as he tried to get away. If that happened, Heyes knew he would never be able to forgive himself for insisting that they go off on their own.

He didn't have long to dwell on these thoughts. A few hours after saying good-bye to his partner, Heyes knew that his plan was not working as well as he might have hoped…at least not for him.

He had stopped to rest his horse beneath the shade of a massive oak tree when he spotted the cloud of dust gathering near the horizon in the north. Squinting into the distance, he could just make out the source of the dust. Several horses were racing towards him, powerful hooves chewing up the distance between themselves and their riders' intended captive.

Heyes silently counted the men approaching…seven…eight...nine. He found himself feeling strangely relieved to realize that the whole posse was accounted for. This, at least, meant that Kid was going to be safe. Grabbing his horse's reins from where they lay, dragging in the dirt, he gently rubbed the mare's neck. "Sorry, Girl. Looks like the chase isn't done yet. Do you think we have enough left in us for another run?" Swinging himself gracefully back into the saddle, he urged the horse forward; away from the men chasing them.

For several hours more, Heyes tried everything he could think of to elude the pack pursuing him relentlessly. Desperate, exhausted, and running out of options, he didn't hear the hsssttt of the rattlesnake until his horse was nearly upon it.

Startled, the mare reared up on her hind legs. If her rider had not been quite so fatigued, he probably could have held his seat. As it was, Heyes lost his hold and fell off the horse, striking his head soundly on a rock as he landed.

The rattler was crushed beneath the hooves of the mare as they returned to the earth, so at least it was no longer a danger to the man lying motionless on the cold, hard desert floor. If he had been conscious, he might have been thankful for this. As it was, he had little else to be thankful for.

He didn't see the men as they got close to where he lay on the ground. He didn't see the horse's hooves as the riders gathered around him looking at him warily, half expecting him to jump up without warning and shoot his gun wildly in hopes of taking out at least some of his tormentors. He didn't hear them talk excitedly, congratulating themselves on chasing down one half of the team of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. He didn't even feel their hands on him as they roughly tied his hands, lifted him up, and placed him across his saddle for the ride back to town. No, Hannibal Heyes wasn't aware of any of this. But maybe that was just as well.


* * * * *

Kid arrived in Gordonville late the next afternoon, about twenty-four hours after leaving Heyes. He had spent an uncomfortable, cold, lonely night alone in the desert with only a tiny flame to keep him warm. He hadn't dared to build a more robust fire, in case by some remote chance the posse might still be nearby where they would spot the smoke. His worry for Heyes had kept him awake most of the night, tossing and turning on the hard, sun-baked earth. Fatigue finally won out and he fell asleep sometime close to dawn.

When the sun forced him to open his eyes in the morning, he felt groggy, disoriented, and sore in every part of his body. It hadn't helped that he had been forced to go without supper again the night before and that there would be no coffee to help him start the day.

The ride into Gordonville had been uneventful…too uneventful…and in Curry's mind, that could only mean one thing. Heyes was in trouble and Kid wasn't sure what he could do about it. There was still a full day remaining until their scheduled rendezvous. Kid would have liked to have gone after him except for one thing. He had no idea where to start looking. The posse could have taken Heyes to any number of little towns in the area. It seemed like the only option he had was to wait. And Kid was very bad at waiting.

Kid rode alone down Gordonville's only street. There was nothing remarkable about the town; Kid had ridden through what seemed like hundreds of towns just like this one before, most of those times with Heyes at his side. He carefully studied the buildings and the people as he made his way to the only hotel in sight, more than likely the only hotel in town.

The two saloons, livery stable, mercantile, blacksmith's shop…everything he'd come to expect in towns like Gordonville…were all laid out just about where he'd expect to find them. Down the road a little further, he passed the telegraph office and what he thought was a newspaper publisher.

Kid had hoped that he might have been wrong; that Heyes would already be somewhere in Gordonville, waiting for Kid to show up, ready to make some lame joke, wondering why it had taken Kid so long to arrive. But the only people he met on the street were locals; there was not a sign of his partner anywhere. At that moment, he would have given anything to hear one of Heyes' lame jokes.

At the hotel, Kid asked the desk clerk if anyone by the name of Joshua Smith had checked in. "Dark haired fellow, wearing a black hat?"

"No, sir. You're our first customer of the day."

Kid was disappointed by not surprised. By now, he was convinced that Heyes had been caught by that posse. Keeping the emotion out of his face or voice, he thanked the desk clerk and went up the stairs to find his room. He needed a little time to think about what he should do next.

Once inside his room, door locked against intruders, Kid sat down heavily on the side of the bed. He was bone-tired from the unrelenting chase he and Heyes had endured for the last few days. Neither one of them had been able to get a decent night's sleep since this whole thing started, grabbing an hour or two whenever they felt safe enough to do so, but even so, Kid didn't think he could sleep now, what with his worry for Heyes' well-being weighing so heavily on his mind. Besides, he needed to take a walk around the town; Heyes might be in one of the saloons, trying to fill an inside straight or making time with some pretty little saloon gal.


* * * * *

Kid awoke with a jolt. The room was dark, the afternoon sunlight that had been streaming through the windows, seemingly just moments before, had given way to a faint glow from the full moon hanging in the sky. He was instantly alert and angry with himself. He hadn't planned on falling asleep and had no recollection of having done so, but there was no question that he had slept and slept for several hours. Kid figured it had to be getting on towards daybreak. That meant he had slept for nearly ten hours. Ten hours he slept while Heyes was who-knows-where, probably needing his help.

Kid sat up in the darkness. He was still fully dressed from the day before. He hadn't even removed his gun belt before falling asleep. He made his way to the bureau next to the door, feeling his way along its surface until he found the matches he knew would be there next to the kerosene lamp. Striking the tip against the box, he lit the match, watching the flame flare up for a second before catching the oil lamp's wick on fire. A dim light filled the small room.

It was quiet in the hotel. It seemed like he was the only one awake at this hour. The solitude bothered him in a way that he was not accustomed to. He normally enjoyed the quiet, sometimes wishing Heyes would just shut up for a while. A sad half-smile crossed his boyishly handsome face as he realized how much, at this moment, he would give just to hear his partner's voice.

Kid hoped the café would open soon. He hadn't eaten for two days, he realized, and if he was going to have any hope of coming up with a plan to find Heyes, he was going to have to have something to eat. He looked out the window, down into the street. He could see the café from where he stood. A soft glow shone through its front window so he knew someone was there, probably preparing for the busy day to come.

Restless, Kid decided to leave his room and take a walk around the town until the café opened. He blew out the lamp and left, locking the door behind himself.

Despite his intentions to walk through the hushed, pre-dawn streets to while away the time, Kid's stomach had other ideas. He was drawn, lost in his thoughts and concern for Heyes, across the street to where the café stood. Next to the door, on which a "Closed" sign hung crookedly, was a bench. Wearily, Kid sat down on this bench. He allowed his head to rest on his hands, elbows on knees. It was from this perspective that he first noticed the pile of newspapers, neatly stacked and tied, ready to be taken into the café for prospective buyers to read while they ate their morning eggs and bacon.

He stared at the bold headline spread across the paper on the top of the stack for a long moment before the words sunk into his conscious brain. His eyes widened, feelings of dread and relief converging inside him. He broke the twine holding the newspapers and read the headline again. "NOTORIOUS OUTLAW CAPTURED". Kid didn't have to read much further to guess who the notorious outlaw was. He scanned the article, the words Hannibal Heyes and San Pasqual catching his attention. San Pasqual was a town not too far to the north of Gordonville. This is where the posse had headed after catching Heyes.

Suddenly the word 'injuries' jumped from the page. Kid's heart skipped a beat as he read…Heyes had been injured during the chase and was out cold when he was brought back to town. The newspaper didn't reveal any more details; except that the law intended to extradite his partner to Wyoming as soon as he was well enough to survive the trip.

Kid forgot his hunger. He hurried over to the livery stable, still locked up tight at the early hour, and got his horse and gear. With single-minded determination, he rode off in the direction of San Pasqual, worry about Heyes' condition the only thing on his mind.


* * * * *

The main street of San Pasqual was buzzing. Word of the arrest of Hannibal Heyes had spread like wildfire through the locals and most of them had turned out to watch as the posse arrived back in town. They were gathered near the sheriff's office to catch a glimpse of the famous outlaw and to hear all the details of the chase and subsequent capture. The men who had been part of the posse were more than happy to share their stories, which were partly based in fact, sprinkled liberally with a good serving of exaggeration.

By the time Heyes had been taken down from his horse, still unconscious, and hauled unceremoniously into a jail cell, nearly everyone in town had listened open-mouthed to at least one version of the event.

The sheriff supervised as two men laid Heyes on the small metal cot in the corner of the hot cell. "He don't look none too good, sheriff," one of the men commented as the three stood back and stared down at Heyes' ashen face.

Sheriff Watkins had to agree. The man lying on the cot didn't look good, not good at all. It appeared that the gash on the back of his head had stopped bleeding somewhere along the line, but Heyes' face shone with a deathly pallor and his breathing was shallow-too shallow. The sheriff was no doctor, but it didn't take medical training to see that this man was hurt bad.

The sheriff was a decent man and although he knew that Heyes was wanted "Dead or Alive", he didn't really want him dying on his watch. "Clyde, go down the street and see if Doc Edwards is in his office. Ask him to come down here and take a look at this boy."

Clyde nodded and left. Watkins and the other man watched Heyes for another minute before leaving the cell, locking the door behind them, although the chance that the prisoner was in any shape to get up and walk away seemed mighty slim.

In fact, Heyes didn't stir at all the rest of that day. Even as the doctor examined him, poking and prodding at the wound on his head; listening to his heart with the cold metal of the stethoscope pressed against the smooth, warm skin of his chest; gently pulling back his upper eyelids and peering into his unresponsive eyes; Heyes lay quiet. Even as the doctor cleaned and dressed the wound; even as he discussed his condition with the sheriff; even as the two men engaged in a heated disagreement on the necessary care of the injured man; Heyes didn't move.

"Head wounds like this one can be very serious…life threatening even. This man needs around-the-clock care."

"I appreciate that, James, but I can't just turn him over to you. What if something happens and he manages to escape?"

In the end, Doc Edwards convinced Sheriff Watkins that the prisoner would be safe and secure in the back room of his office, door locked from the outside and one of the sheriff's best men posted outside the door twenty-four hours a day. So Heyes was moved down the street under the watchful eyes of curious town folk to a bed in the doctor's office; one with a goose feather mattress and soft, well-used cotton sheets.

James Edwards was the town's only doctor. He'd practiced medicine here for the last twenty years. He was respected and well-loved by the community. He and his family lived upstairs from the rooms where he provided health care to the town. Edwards was a widower. His wife had died suddenly several years past, leaving him alone to raise his two children, Jason, now twelve years old, and Theresa, seventeen.

Both children had grown up helping their father in his practice whatever way they could. Since he didn't employ a nurse, Theresa and Jason spent much of their free time helping him care for patients.

The three of them, in turn, spent the rest of that day and the following night by Heyes' bedside, watching for any change. Heyes spent that time oblivious to their diligent care.


* * * * *

Joshua's eyelids fluttered gently, almost imperceptively, as he floated back towards consciousness. Eyes still closed, his brow wrinkled in a frown as he became aware of the throbbing ache in his head. He felt as if he had been trampled on by a horse. His body hurt all over, but the worst of it was centered in his head. With effort, he was able to move his hand to the spot from where the pain seemed to radiate hotly and was surprised to find a thick bandage wrapped around his head. Carefully, his fingers explored the area until he found the raised lump that the wrappings covered. Breath hissed through his teeth and he quickly withdrew his hand. Sparks seemed to shoot through his brain at the slightest movement of his head.

He had no idea where he was or even how he had ended up here. Venturing a glance around what he could see of the room did not provide many clues. The room was small and utilitarian. A small table crowded with bottles and some foreign-looking metal tools was in the corner near his head. The one chair in sight was occupied by a young boy who appeared to be sound asleep.

Joshua studied the boy, wondering who he was. Nothing about him was familiar, but it was strangely comforting just to see him there.

Joshua continued to watch the boy sleep. Slowly, he became aware of muffled voices coming from outside his room. He tried to concentrate on the words, but the pain throbbing through his head hindered his efforts. Little by little, he was able to focus on the voices.

"Doc, I've done it your way long enough. Now I gotta take him back over to the jail."

"Listen, sheriff. He hasn't even woke up yet. I want him to stay here. He still needs a lot of care." Joshua realized that the voices were more than likely talking about him. He listened harder, struggling to make out all the words.

"What are you gonna do if Curry shows up here then? Have you thought of that? Cuz it's only a matter of time before he finds out Heyes is here." Joshua listened, confused, no longer sure who the men outside his room were talking about.

"OK. Just one more day then. How'd that be? Besides, your deputy is still here."

Joshua heard the boy stirring in his chair. Quickly, he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. He didn't know why he felt it important to conceal the fact that he was awake, he just knew it was.


* * * * *

Kid left Gordonville behind him in the hour before dawn, stopping only long enough to help himself to some food from a house near the outskirts of town. A few hours later, he saw San Pasqual come into view. His stomach tightened. He knew he had to proceed cautiously now. The law would be expecting him to show up to rescue his partner. Kid couldn't help Heyes if he ended up behind bars with him.

He rode into town, avoiding the larger streets, keeping instead to narrow alleyways and side streets. Near the center of town he tied his horse to a post in one of those alleys and proceeded on foot, hat brim shielding his face as much as possible from the glances of other pedestrians.

In this manner, he approached the jailhouse from the rear. The bars on the two windows facing the alley confirmed that he had located the correct building. He figured that one of those two barred windows secured the cell where he would find Heyes.

After watching the area for a few minutes, Kid decided it would be safe to move closer. Furtively, expecting to be spotted at any minute, he sprinted across the alley, coming to a stop at the wall of the jailhouse.

Heart pounding painfully against his ribs, Kid ducked low and peered through the bars on one of the windows. The small cell was empty. He moved to the other window, convinced that he would find Heyes imprisoned behind those bars.

Kid almost stopped breathing when he saw that the second cell stood as empty as the first. Panicky, he feared that Heyes had already been shipped off to Wyoming. He leaned his back against the bricks of the wall, warmed by the summer sun, and closed his eyes, trying to think.

Kid's heart was still drumming in his chest. His thoughts were scrambled in confusion. Where was Heyes? This question kept running through his mind. He stood still for several minutes, eyes closed, concentrating on bringing his emotions back under control.

Once composed, Kid walked quietly towards the street. Keeping close to the building and trying to attract as little attention as possible, he gauged the people he saw, searching for just the right person.

As luck would have it, he didn't have to wait long. A grizzled old gent was weaving his way down the boardwalk, making as straight a course towards Curry as possible given his apparently inebriated state. Kid could smell him almost before he could see him; the sour smell of old tobacco and sweat-stained clothes fairly leapt from his person. Reluctantly, Kid put a hand out and stopped the fellow.

"Hey, I thought I read that your sheriff brought in that outlaw, Hannibal Heyes."

The man looked at him quizzically, trying to pull Kid into focus. Slurring, he replied defiantly, "Yep, that's right. Who wants to know?"

"Ain't nobody. I was just hopin' to get the bounty on that low life for myself. So is he in jail here?"

"You a bounty hunter? Naw, he's not here."

Feigning boredom, with his heart in his throat Kid asked, "So where is he? On his way to Wyoming so soon?"

"Wyoming?" the geezer asked in confusion. "Why would he be in Wyoming? He's over at the doc's. Over there," he gestured vaguely down the street before meandering his way down the sidewalk again, mumbling something about Wyoming under his breath.


* * * * *

Joshua's thoughts were sluggish and this annoyed him. The more he tried to remember how he had ended up here, in this strange bed in a strange room, the fuzzier the memories seemed.

The last thing he remembered was that poker game back in town; how many nights ago was that, he asked himself. Two…Three?

He vaguely remembered that there was some sort of commotion that broke out in the saloon that night and he remembered making a beeline for the door. Joshua's brow wrinkled in concentration. 'What was I running from?' he wondered. It was just a friendly poker game, like dozens of others he had sat in on in the past. What was it that had got him running scared like that?

Joshua was deep into his own thoughts, so deep that he didn't notice that the boy had finally come full awake and now sat watching him silently. When he finally looked up, their eyes met. Joshua smiled at the boy and said, "Hello."

The boy looked a little startled but he nodded cautiously in reply. Hastily, he got up and walked to the door and rapped on it loudly. "Father?" he called. Joshua was perplexed as he heard a key turn in the lock just before it opened. A man stepped into the room.

"Looks like our patient is finally awake, eh Jason?" He smiled at Joshua and said, "I'm Doc Edwards. How are you feeling?"

Joshua frowned. "Terrible."

"Oh? Well, you should be feeling better soon. I'm just glad to see you're finally awake. You've been out for a very long time." The doctor came closer to the bed and began examining his patient, using some of the foreign-looking tools Joshua had noticed lying on the table next to his bed.

"Have I?" Joshua was feeling more confused than ever. "I'm having a little trouble here, Doc. Maybe you can help me…how the heck did I get here. What happened? I don't seem to remember much about what happened to me."

The doctor stopped what he was doing and stared at Heyes. "You don't remember hitting your head?"

"Uh, no. Last thing I remember was sitting at a poker table with a few other fellas. After that…nothing."

"Hm. I don't suppose it's unusual to have some memory loss after suffering such a trauma, Mr. Heyes. I'm sure that---"

"Mr. Smith."

"What?"

"My name is Mr. Smith. Joshua Smith."


* * * * *

Kid made his way to the café on the other side of the street, knowing that he needed to get more information about Heyes and figuring that the café would be full of local gossips ready to chin-wag their way through the lunch hour. He kept his hat pulled low over his forehead and avoided making eye contact with the people he met, wanting to attract as little attention as possible.

Kid pushed open the door. When he did so, a little bell attached to it jangled. To Kid's ears, the silvery chime was deafening as he expected all eyes to turn his way. He held his breath, waiting for someone to shout out his name in recognition, but soon realized that everyone in the place was too engrossed in talking about the capture of Hannibal Heyes to pay him any mind.

Exhaling, he casually made his way to one of the only empty tables in the place and sat down alone. He aimed to spend the next hour or however long it took just sitting there listening to the chatter going on around him until he learned what he needed to know to get Heyes out of this town.

The waitress came by his table, carrying an empty cup and a pot of steaming brew, "Coffee?" she asked wearily.

Kid nodded, "Please," and she filled the cup with the hot coffee, setting it in front of him.

"What'll you have?"

Kid ordered his lunch. Then he settled into the business at hand---finding out what he needed to know to be able to help Heyes. The people of the town were more than willing to provide all sorts of information about the man who lay injured in the doctor's office down the street. He didn't even have to ask, all he had to do was listen to the buzz of voices around him.

For instance, he learned that Heyes had been carried into town on the back of his horse, out cold, the result of knocking his head against a rock when he was thrown from the horse. He found out that shortly after getting into town, he had been moved and was now under medical supervision, where he would probably stay until he was well enough to travel and then he would be extradited to Wyoming. He even heard that Heyes was being guarded by one of the sheriff's men…but only one. But he never heard what Heyes' condition was now. No one in the place seemed to know how the injured man was doing. He would have to find this out for himself another way.


* * * * *

Trying his best to be inconspicuous, Kid took up his position---in the alleyway that ran next to the doctor's office. He aimed to stay there for as long as it took. Eventually, someone would come out of the doc's place and then he would get the information he needed; one way or another.

He didn't have to wait long. Soon the door to the office opened and a young girl stepped out on the porch. Kid watched her as she stood there, apparently enjoying the feel of the sun on her face. She was smiling at no one in particular. She had the carefree look of someone who had nothing important to do for the rest of the afternoon. Kid envied her freedom.

He waited anxiously to see which direction she would head, hoping fervently that she would come his way. Still smiling, she fairly skipped down the steps leading from the porch to the street and turned towards him. He stepped casually out of the shadows and waited until she was right in front of him before he tipped his hat and spoke to her, his most charming smile spread across his boyish face.

"Howdy, Miss. My name is Thaddeus Jones. I wonder if I could have a word with you."

The girl stopped walking and looked at the handsome stranger. There was no fear in her eyes when she looked into his eyes, just the open trusting gaze of someone who hadn't yet learned not to trust the word of strangers, no matter how trustworthy they might appear.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I saw you come out of the doctor's office over there. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about how his patient is doing."

"Well," she hesitated. "I'm not really supposed to talk about my father's patients. He doesn't like us to-"
"It's alright, Miss. The sheriff sent me down to inquire on his progress. I'm sure your father won't mind."

She looked at him doubtfully for a moment longer. Kid smiled at her again, staring back into her eyes with what he hoped was a very sincere expression. She smiled self-consciously, dropping her gaze away from his face momentarily. When she met his eyes again, she said, "I guess it would be alright to tell you---seeing as how the sheriff asked you to find out. Mr. Heyes is awake now. Father said he would be well enough to travel soon---at least physically."

Kid's heart skipped a beat. If Heyes was well enough to travel, that meant they'd be shipping him off to Wyoming soon. Kid didn't have much time to waste. Suddenly, his mind registered the rest of what the young woman had told him. "Physically? What do you mean, physically?"

"Well, I don't really know, but Father said there was something else….a brain injury or something. I'm sorry but you'd have to ask him if you need to know any more." She smiled shyly at him once again before hurrying off down the boardwalk, leaving him standing frozen in place, wondering what she meant by a brain injury.

'Well, whatever it is, it's just gonna have to heal up on its own after we get out of this town. He'll be fine. Yeah, he'll be ok. Ain't nothing ever been wrong with Heyes' brain and that's the way it's gonna stay.' Those were the thoughts on Kid's mind as he retreated back into the shadows behind the building. But he wasn't as confident as he pretended to be and pangs of worry nagged him as he set about doing what he needed to get done.


* * * * *

Joshua sat up in his bed, alone with his thoughts. Except he wasn't really alone; the occasional sound of activity just outside his bedroom door attesting to that.

He had listened, not saying a word, as the doctor tried to explain to him that it appeared that the blow he had taken to the back of his head had caused some memory loss. It was true, after all, that he couldn't remember anything after that poker game, but what the doctor had tried to tell him was plain loco! Joshua Smith, an outlaw? Why, that was just plumb ridiculous!

Even crazier was Edward's assertion that he wasn't Joshua Smith at all but an outlaw named Hannibal Heyes. A bank robber, for heaven's sake! He had tried to tell the doctor that he never robbed a bank in his life; that he'd worked in a bank for the last two years, as a matter of fact, over in Porterville. And that he was a friend of the sheriff over there. "Now why would the sheriff of Porterville be friends with an outlaw," he had said, trying to convince the doctor that he was mistaken about his identity.

But Edwards had just looked at him like he was some strange creature that had just crawled out from under a rock. He could tell he hadn't believed anything Joshua had tried to tell him. Finally, he just left the room, shaking his head. Joshua heard the sound of the key turning in the lock again as the door closed. This alarmed him more than anything else; realizing that he was being held prisoner against his will.

Other than the pain in his head, which was slowly subsiding thanks to the draught of medicine the doctor had administered a few minutes before, Joshua felt pretty good. He gingerly flexed his arms and legs and though a little weak and unsteady from spending the last couple days out cold, he didn't see any lasting damage. Slowly, he lowered his feet to the ground and stood. 'At least that's still working,' he thought, grateful to be up and about. Once he knew that his legs would hold his weight, he moved to the door and silently tested the door knob. 'Yep. Locked. They really do think I'm Hannibal Heyes.'

Fighting the urge to panic, Joshua took a moment to look around the room. Forcing himself to remain calm, he thought, 'I've got to get out of here so I can prove I'm not who they think I am. What I need is a plan.'

Other than a small window set high into the wall, there was no other way out of the room except by the door; and that was apparently being guarded, judging from the sounds coming from right outside the door. Joshua had occasionally heard the gentle scraping sounds of a chair being moved across the floor and the not so gentle sounds of a man clearing his throat and coughing periodically.

His eyes lit upon the tray of medical tools on the table next to his bed. Some of the tools looked vaguely familiar. He knew he had seen the thing that doctors used to listen to a person's heart before---what was it called again-oh right, a stethoscope. Then there was a little hammer; Joshua wasn't sure what that was used for but thought it might come in handy later.


* * * * *

Kid had learned long ago how to be patient. As he stood in the deepening shadows in the alleyway, he watched the street, waiting. Finally, his patience was rewarded. The door to the doctor's office opened, and Doc Edwards hurried down the steps and into a buggy parked on the street. He was carrying his medical bag and moving fast, on his way to provide care to some sick farmer or farmer's wife.

This was the opportunity Kid had been waiting for. He knew that Heyes was being guarded by a deputy but at least now Kid wouldn't have to worry about the doctor getting in the way, maybe getting hurt.


* * * * *

The deputy, relaxing in his chair outside Heyes' door, was taken by surprise when the door burst open. The sight of Kid Curry standing there pointing his gun right at his face made him question his choice of occupation. He started to rise, but thought better of it when Curry indicated he should just stay where he was, using the end of his pistol for emphasis.

"Now don't get all excited, Deputy. I don't mean to hurt anybody-although I'm not against it either if it becomes necessary. As long as you co-operate, you're gonna be just fine. Now just pull your weapon out of your holster…with your left hand, please…and throw it off somewhere out of the way."

The deputy swallowed hard and, never taking his eyes off Kid Curry's face, did as he was instructed. "Good man." Kid bent down and picked up the deputy's gun, shoving it into the waistband of his jeans. Then he pulled a length of rope out of his back pocket and proceeded to tie the lawman up.

"Now, I'm gonna have to gag you so you don't start yelling as soon as I get my friend and we leave, but before I do, I need you to tell me where the key to that door is."

"I-I-I don't have it," the man stammered.

"I don't have time to play games, my friend," Kid said, resting the tip of his pistol meaningfully against the deputy's chest, as he felt the anger start to flare within himself. "Where is it?"

The deputy's eyes widened in fear. Kid Curry's reputation as a ruthless gunslinger was enough to make him tell him anything he wanted to know, but it was the rage he saw growing behind those steely blue eyes that made the bile rise up in his throat. He was afraid he might become ill before he could convince Curry that he didn't have the key.

"Th-there are only two keys to that room. The sheriff has one and Doc Edwards has the other one. He took it with him." The man had turned an unhealthy shade of pale as all the blood ran out of his face. Kid stood staring down at him for a long moment before deciding he was probably telling the truth.

He sighed deeply. "Why do these things always have to be so difficult, I ask ya? Is it too much to expect to find a key to a locked room when you need one?" Kid reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a dirty bandana. "Well, I'm gonna believe you, friend. Mostly 'cuz I ain't got no choice and I got even less time." He forced the bandana into the deputy's mouth and tied it tightly behind his head. Then he turned his attention to the door and the man behind it.

"Heyes, can you hear me? It's Kid. Can you unlock the door?"


* * * * *

Joshua heard the commotion outside his door long before he figured out what was going on out there. He could make out two male voices, one hard and low, the other more high-pitched and tinny. Neither one sounded like Doc Edwards. He assumed one was the person making sure he stayed put in this room, but he had no clue who the other voice belonged to. There was something strangely familiar about it though---he just couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the voice again, much louder this time; like the person it belonged to was standing right outside the door and speaking right at him. And if he was speaking to him, then that person thought he was Heyes too!

Given his circumstances, he wasn't in the mood to quibble. He was tired of being locked up in this room, waiting for the people outside this door to come to their senses and realize that they had the wrong man. He called out, nervously, "Uh, no sir. I can't unlock the door. It's locked from out there."

Kid frowned. There was something wrong with Heyes' brain all right. That was the only explanation he could come up with for him calling him 'sir' and for him sounding so jittery. He also knew Heyes could open this door on his worst day without even breaking a sweat. There was definitely something wrong. "Ok, Heyes. Don't think too much. Just look around you and see if you can find anything to open the door with."

"What? I'm sorry but I don't-"

"I told you not to think. Just do it."

Joshua felt the panic rise up from his stomach. He wondered whether he should really be co-operating with the man outside. He sounded a little loco to him. Taking a deep breath, Joshua tried to do as he was told-not think, just do it. He looked around the room until he spotted the medical tools again. One looked like a probe of some type. Joshua grabbed it and set about working on the lock. After a couple of minutes, he gave up in frustration. "It's no use," he called. "I can't do it."

"Yes you can, Heyes. You can do it in your sleep. You're thinking too much. Clear your mind and just DO it."

Joshua took another deep, cleansing breath and cleared his mind…just like the voice told him to do. He closed his eyes and started working the lock again. This time he was pleasantly surprised when he heard the internal mechanism click, freeing him from his white-washed prison.

"Hey, would you look at that?" he said to himself. "I did it."

With the door open, Joshua was finally able to set eyes on his rescuer. He wasn't surprised that the man standing before him in the open doorway was unfamiliar to him; but he was surprised that the man looked so genuinely happy and relieved to see him. His face lit up in a brilliant smile just before a jubilant laugh sprang forth from his throat. "Heyes!" he whooped. "Are you ok?"

Some of the shock and uncertainty Joshua was feeling must have registered on his face, because almost as soon as it appeared the smile vanished from the other man's face. Concern clouded his eyes and he said again, more quietly this time, "Are you ok, Heyes?"

In a gesture so slight it might have been missed if the watcher had not been watching so intently, Joshua shook his head. In a voice unfamiliar to Kid; one filled with sadness and fear, Joshua said, "I'm not Hannibal Heyes. My name is Joshua Smith."

Now Kid understood what the girl had meant when she said Heyes had suffered a brain injury. His best friend and partner for all these years didn't remember he was Hannibal Heyes. Worse than that, he had a feeling that Heyes didn't know who Kid was either. But there was no time to think about that right now. There was no telling when the doctor or even the sheriff might come around. He needed to get Heyes out of here, and fast. There'd be time to fix Heyes later.

Heyes stared at him, his expression a mixture of confusion and something that Kid thought might be fear, fear of him, his friend and partner. "Can you ride?" he asked, forcing back the rush of painful emotions he thought might overcome him. Heyes didn't move. He stood in the middle of the room, barefooted, wearing only a long white cotton nightshirt. Kid started searching for his clothes. He found them in the top drawer of the dresser. "Can you ride?" he said again, more gruffly, covering the hurt he felt at realizing Heyes didn't recognize him.

"I'm not sure---I mean--- yes, I can ride, but I'm not sure I should go with---"

"Do you want to spend the next twenty years in the Wyoming prison?" the blond man snapped.

"No. But I-"

"Then you just better listen to me. I know you don't remember me right now, but if you don't trust me and do what I say, that's exactly where you're gonna end up. We don't have time to talk about it right now." Kid's voice took on a pleading tone, "Just do as I say, please Heyes."

"Here, get dressed," he said as he tossed Heyes' pants and shirt at him. Heyes still didn't move.

"Now!" Kid finally yelled, startling Heyes into action. He pulled the nightshirt over his head and started dressing. By the time Kid found his boots, gun belt, and hat in another drawer, Heyes was dressed. He looked more like himself now, at least outwardly.

As for Joshua, he was lost in his own muddled thoughts. He didn't know who this man was but he had to assume that if he thought he was Hannibal Heyes then he was undoubtedly an outlaw. The way he wore his holster tied to his thigh implied that he was good with his gun, maybe real good. What would he do to him when he discovered he had helped the wrong man escape? Would he kill him just to get rid of him?

On the other hand, if he stayed here he wasn't sure he would be able to convince the sheriff that he had arrested an innocent man. So he didn't really have much choice. He was going to have to trust this man, maybe with his life.

Instinctively, Joshua strapped on his gun belt and tied his holster around his thigh.

It felt unnatural to Kid that he should be barking orders at Heyes. After all, Heyes was usually the one in charge and that was alright with Kid because he knew that their partnership was based on mutual respect and trust. They both had their strengths and they relied on each other for those strengths. But right now, Heyes' strength was somewhere else, so Kid needed to take control.

"OK. Let's go. I have some horses tied up in the alley." Still, Heyes hesitated. "Move," Kid snarled, with a little more venom than he intended, born out of fear for his life-long friend. Finally, with very few options left before him, Joshua decided to trust this stranger.