"What do we do?"

"I don't know, Kid. Maybe it's just a coincidence that he's here. Maybe he's not looking for us at all." He starts to look hopeful.

As he is speaking, Kyle's face lights up with a look of sudden recognition. He has spotted Heyes and Curry and approaches. Just as Heyes finishes speaking, Kyle slaps both boys on the shoulders, gives a loud whoop, and yells, "Ain't you guys a sight for sore eyes. I been lookin' all over town fur ya. Shoulda knew you'd be holed up here."

Starring

Pete Duel as Hannibal Heyes
Ben Murphy as Kid Curry

Guest Stars

This Cell Ain't Big Enough for the Both of Us!
by Leah Anders

It's Friday night. Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry walk into the saloon, looking to relax after putting in a long week at a local ranch.

"Heyes, you know I'm grateful to Lom for getting us these jobs, but right now, I feel like I've been run over by a steam engine. All I wanna do is find me someplace to sit down and have a few beers."

"Well, Kid, I think we've come to the right place, then," Heyes smiles. "While we're at it, why don't we help ourselves to some of these fella's money, too. Let's get a beer and then let's play some poker."

Instinctively glancing around the room as they go, they make their way to the bar.

"Sam, set us up with a couple beers." As the barman does this, Heyes nods his thanks and drops his money on the bar.

"You know, Kid. I'm starting to feel real comfortable in this town. We've been working here for a couple of weeks now and haven't run into a bit of trouble. We might just want to start thinking about settling down here for a while if things keep going like they are."

As Heyes is speaking, Curry is leaning against the bar, casually surveying the room, checking out the action. He is obviously enjoying watching everything going on as he has a slight smile on his face. Slowly, the smile disappears and his body shows signs of tension. Without looking at Heyes, he reaches over to grasp his partner's shoulder.

"Heyes, I think things are about to take a turn for the worse." Heyes turns to look at Curry, not yet understanding. Curry gestures towards the door with a slight movement of his head. "Look what just dragged itself in here."

With a feeling of dread, Heyes slowly turns from the bar to look in the direction Curry indicates. To his amazement, he sees Kyle Murtry standing in the open doorway, looking confused and bewildered. The boys know that he must be there looking for them but he hasn't spotted them yet in the crowded room. In unison, Heyes and Curry quickly turn back to the bar.

"What in tarnation is he doing here, Heyes?" Curry asks.

"I don't know. I shoulda been expecting something like this. Things have been going too good." Heyes shakes his head slowly. His face reflects the knowledge that he's about to lose that comfortable feeling he's been enjoying.

"What do we do?"

"I don't know, Kid. Maybe it's just a coincidence that he's here. Maybe he's not looking for us at all." He starts to look hopeful.

As he is speaking, Kyle's face lights up with a look of sudden recognition. He has spotted Heyes and Curry and approaches. Just as Heyes finishes speaking, Kyle slaps both boys on the shoulders, gives a loud whoop, and yells, "Ain't you guys a sight for sore eyes. I been lookin' all over town fur ya. Shoulda knew you'd be holed up here."

Heyes and Curry are obviously displeased that Kyle is making such a scene. They take a furtive look around the room to see how much attention they are getting, then each grab Kyle by the back of the collar and herd him toward a secluded table. They shove him, not gently, down into a chair and sit down on either side of him.

"Kyle, what are you doing here?" Curry scowls. "Are the rest of the boys with you?" Both Heyes and Curry glare at their hapless friend, whose smile has disappeared and been replaced by a hurt expression.

"Lom told me where I could find you," Kyle says defensively. "But I have to say, this ain't a very nice welcome yur givin' me, after I went to all this trouble and came all this way to see ya. You almost made me swallow my tabaccey."

"Well, we're sorry about that Kyle. We really are. It's just that you gave us quite a turn, showing up like this…" Heyes tries to placate him. "Are the rest of the boys here?" he repeats, while watching the door to the saloon, ready to head off another scene should Wheat and the boys stumble in off the street, hooting and hollering.

Kyle's frown deepens as he says, "Boys, I got somethin' terrible to show ya. Brace yurselfs." He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a very wrinkled newspaper. He opens up the paper and spreads it out on the table, running his hands across it two or three times to straighten out the worst of the wrinkles. Emblazoned on the front page, it reads:


Kyle looks expectantly at Heyes and Curry. They study the headline for several seconds, then look back at Kyle. After several seconds, he blurts, "Well, ain't ya gonna say anything? I came here to get you guys to help me bust Wheat and the others out of jail. If we get started right now, we can get to Rock Springs sometime tomorrow." He starts to rise from his chair but Curry stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Heyes fixes his eyes on Kyle and smiles serenely. "Kyle, as much as we'd love to help, we can't just go riding into that town and break them out of jail. What do you think that would do to our chance for amnesty? Besides, we told you fellas back in Porterville it was time to go straight. Bank robbing is getting too tough these days. No, I'm afraid you're just going to have to figure this one out without us."

Curry nods. "How 'bout this? Why don't you try returning the money? Maybe if you was to give it back, the law would go easy on the boys. That's probably the best thing you can do anyway. "

"That's a good idea, Kid," Kyle exclaims, then pauses. "Except I cain't…"

"Why not?"

"Cuz I don't rightly know where the money is."

"Come on, Kyle," Heyes says. "Even you wouldn't forget where the money got stashed, would ya? And by the way, how come you got away when the rest of the boys were caught. Maybe you better tell us the whole story from the beginning."

"OK, Heyes. Well, it all started a couple of weeks ago. We had been hangin' around Rock Springs for a day or two, just trying to figure out what to do next. It was Wheat and me and Lobo and a couple of other fellas. We weren't doin' much of anything, mostly just playin' a little poker and havin' a little fun. But Wheat was workin' on a real good plan for a job." Kyle pauses in his story, looking confused like maybe he doesn't know what to say from here. After a pause to gather his thoughts, he continues, "Anyway, after the robbery, we lit out of town like the devil was chasin' us."

"More like a posse, I'd imagine," said Heyes.

"Rightly so. Well, the next day, we figured we had pretty much given them the slip so by nightfall, we had made camp and settled down for some shut-eye. It was just about that time when the posse rode in and got the drop on us."

"Oh, Kyle. Don't tell me you guys didn't even have a man stand watch!" Curry moans.

"Uh, well, yeah, o'course someone was supposed to be standin' watch. What do you take us for, complete fools?" Heyes and Curry exchange smirks. "Only thing was, the man who was supposed to be watchin' had to take a little break…ya know what I mean?" Kyle asks sheepishly.

"Kyle…you don't mean…you stepped away from your watch, didn't ya?"

"It was only for a minute, Kid. I weren't gone more than a little bit and by that time, it was too late. I hid in the bushes and watched them truss up the boys and take 'em back to town." Kyle looks contrite. Then his face brightens, "But I followed 'em back into town and managed to sneak over and talk to Wheat through the window a couple of nights ago. That's when he told me to come find you guys. He figured you'd be more than happy to come help get them out, 'specially since him and me was willing to do the same for you, Kid."

"But, Kyle," Heyes begins, "that was different. You boys weren't looking for amnesty then and, besides, turned out that the Kid didn't need your help after all."

"Wheat also figured you might say somethin' like that, Heyes." Kyle does his best to look defiant. "So he told me to remind you that it wouldn't be hard for him to give the law a decent description of you two. One good enough to draw up one of those pictures they use on wanted posters." As he says this last bit, he seems to shrink in his chair, all defiance gone, waiting for the angry reaction he is sure is coming.

"Kyle." Curry leans toward him and gives him a warning look, his eyes narrow. Kyle shrinks even further. To Heyes, Curry says, "You don't think Wheat would sell us out, do you, Heyes?"

"Nooo! Wheat wouldn't do that. I mean, we've had our problems in the past but Wheat is basically a loyal guy." Heyes looks a little doubtful, "He wouldn't, would he, Kid?"

Heyes and Curry look at each other, then at Kyle, both of them look ready to pounce on their poor friend. Kyle shrugs his shoulders in reply, not wanting to antagonize the two outlaws any further. "All I know is what Wheat told me to say," he says meekly.

"Well, I think he's bluffing," Curry declares.

"Me too," Heyes agrees.

The two look at each other for another long moment. Coming to the realization that they can't take the chance, Heyes sighs. "Kid, you go get the horses. I'll settle up at the hotel."

"Right."

Heyes and Curry get up in resignation to leave the bar. Kyle, finally realizing he has convinced them to go with him, gets up a few seconds later, hitches up his pants, and follows.


* * * * *

"Sorry, Kyle. If you go back into town now, there's a good chance that someone is going to remember you. You said yourself that you and the boys had been hanging around town for a couple of days before the bank robbery. You're going to have to stay here holed up until we figure out what we're gonna do."

"But, Heyes, I don't see why I have to stay here all by myself. Why don't you and the Kid stay too?"

They are standing in front of an obviously abandoned farmhouse about a mile out of Rock Springs. The front door is hanging off one of its hinges and the two windows facing the road are broken out.

"Now, Kyle, you know that we would if we could," Heyes lays his arm around Kyle's shoulder, "really we would…but we need to be in town so we can size up the situation. If we're going to help Wheat, we're going to need to come up with a plan and we can't do that from out here. You understand, don't you?"

"No, sir, Heyes, I don't rightly understand. I thought we was just gonna get ourselves some nice dynamite and blow them out of jail. Simple as pie."

"Kyle, I've told you before, this kind of thing takes finesse. I thought I taught you better than that. Didn't you learn anything in all the time you were riding with me? No, this is going to take a lot of thinking and I think a lot clearer if I'm sleeping in a nice clean hotel room." As Heyes is talking, the three of them are headed back to where the horses are tethered. "And don't you worry, we'll be back out here as quick as we can and bring you some more food, if we remember." With a final pat on Kyle's back, Heyes turns to get on his horse.

"What am I supposed to do until you get back? I ain't even got a deck of cards."

"You might try remembering where you boys stashed the loot from the robbery," Curry smirks.

"And you still have that newspaper, don't you? You can read that," Heyes adds, with a wickedly mischievous smile, knowing full well that Kyle can't read. "But, Kyle, under no circumstances are you to come into town, understand?"

Kyle nods forlornly as Heyes and Curry urge their horses towards the road. He raises his hand in a half-hearted farewell and watches them ride away. "I still think all's we need is a little good dynamite," he shouts after them.


* * * * *

"So, Heyes, do you have a plan yet? How are we gonna get those numbskulls out of jail without risking our amnesty?"

"I'm not sure we can, Kid. Anyway, they got themselves in this mess, maybe we should just let them get themselves out of it."

"Heyes, as much as I'd like to do that, we can't just sit back and let them go to prison. Besides, how can we be sure Wheat is bluffing?"

"I'm just gonna have to go talk to him, that's all."

They are just passing the city limit sign on the way into Rock Springs. "Just how do you plan on doing that, Heyes? We can't just waltz into the sheriff's office and ask to speak to the bank robbers. What if someone recognizes us?"

"I got an idea about that, Kid. One thing I do know is that we shouldn't be seen together until after this is all over. I have a feeling that the success or failure of our plan will depend on our seeming like we don't know each other. Why don't you ride on ahead a bit and get situated at the hotel. I'll go see if I can talk to Wheat while you nose around and see what you can learn about the robbery. But don't draw too much attention to yourself. We'll meet tonight with Kyle to talk over what to do next."

"Suits me fine, Heyes. I just hope you know what you're doing. You could be getting yourself in a mess of trouble and I won't be there to pull your fat out of the fire."

"Kid, haven't I told you before…you gotta have faith," Heyes smiles disarmingly.

"You just be careful, Heyes. Don't do nothing stupid," Curry says as he urges his horse forward, leaving his partner behind.

"Faith, Kid, faith!"


* * * * *

The sheriff and his deputy are sitting guard over the prisoners at their desks. Wheat and Lobo are in one cell and the other two members of the gang are in the second cell. They are playing cards through the bars of their cells.

The door to the office opens and Heyes enters, dressed in his brown suit and hat, disguised with a false mustache and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. The sheriff stands up to greet the newcomer, looking him over from head to toe, suspiciously, as lawmen are prone to do. Wheat glances up from his hand momentarily to see who has entered, looks away, and then does a wide-eyed double-take as he realizes who just walked in the office. The card game grinds to a halt as the other prisoners take in Wheat's reaction.

Heyes, after a quick glance toward the cells, walks over to the sheriff, extending his hand, "Afternoon, sheriff."

The sheriff nods but says nothing and doesn't offer his hand.

"My name is Chester P. Thornton, attorney at law." Heyes is still extending his hand, expectantly.

Finally, the sheriff returns the handshake, coolly, without a smile. "I've been retained to represent your prisoners here."

At last, the sheriff speaks. "Sheriff Oakes. This here is my deputy, Joe Hanks. I don't believe I've ever heard of you. Are you new in town?" The sheriff appears to be about fifty years old with hair streaked with gray, but still physically trim and athletic looking. He is not a man to be taken lightly. The deputy is hardly more than a boy, with baby-faced features and an innocent expression.

"No, Sir. My offices are in Rawlins. I was hired by a friend of one of the accused, who, I might add, are wrongly imprisoned on these charges."

The sheriff smirks. "We got these boys dead to rights. I don't think even a fancy, big-city lawyer like yerself is going to be any help to them now."

"So there are witnesses who saw them rob the bank?"

"No. No witnesses. But we have several people who are willing to testify that these low-down outlaws were in town before the robbery and made no secret of who they were."

"Circumstantial evidence, Sheriff. Won't stand up in court. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like a chance to speak to my clients," Heyes says authoritatively.

"Suit yourself. But I'm going to have to search you first."

After the search is over, the deputy escorts Heyes into Wheat's cell and locks the door behind him. Heyes winces ever so slightly as the door slams closed behind him. Once the lawman returns to the front office and is out of earshot, Wheat jumps up and starts toward Heyes, looking like he might be going to hug him but drawing back at the last second. Instead he slaps Heyes on the shoulder, nearly knocking the smaller man off his feet. "Heyes, ain't you a sight! Where in tarnation did you get that piece of horsehair laying across your lip? You better hope that sheriff's eyes ain't too good. I could see through that disguise a mile away," Wheat snickers.

"Wheat, I'll have you know…never mind the disguise. It was good enough to get me in here."

"Anyways, me and the boys are just happy to see you, ain't we fellas?" Nods all around. "We knew you and the Kid would show up as soon as you found out we were in trouble. What's your plan?"

Ignoring Wheat's last question, Heyes replies, angrily, "You didn't give us much choice, did you Wheat? When were you planning to give the sheriff that description of us? Or have you already done it? I oughta wring your neck myself for even thinking something like that!"

"Now, don't get proddy, Heyes. You know I wouldn't turn on you like that. I just needed some way to get you here…Worked like a charm, didn't it? What's your plan?" Wheat looks very satisfied with himself and not a bit worried about Heyes' anger.

"I should just get up and leave you here, that's what I should do. What were you boys thinking? If you're going to rob the local bank, you don't just hang around town for days letting the townsfolk get a good look at you beforehand."

"Uh…it didn't happen quite that way, Heyes…" Lobo says.

"I don't care how it happened. If the Kid and I help you break out of here, there's a good chance someone like that sheriff out there will figure out who we are and once that happens we can kiss our amnesties goodbye. Maybe you should just consider giving the loot back. Maybe then the judge will go easy on you and you won't have to do too much time."

"Heyes, we can't do that."

"For gosh sakes, why not? It ain't gonna do you much good if you're locked up, is it?"

"Let's just say we don't exactly have the money." Wheat looks sheepish. "I 'spect I'm gonna have to tell ya eventually…we didn't exactly rob the bank."

"Oh, come on now, Wheat! Are you trying to tell me it was a coincidence that the bank was robbed while you boys just happened to be in town? You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?"

"That's exactly what it was, Heyes, an unfortunate coincidence…not that the thought hadn't crossed our minds, mind ya, but before we could formulate a plan, some other rascal beat us to it."

Heyes looks at Wheat skeptically, "So why did you run if you were innocent?"

"We didn't have a choice, Heyes! A couple of these boys…" Wheat looks pointedly at the two outlaws peering through the bars from the other cell, "don't know enough to keep their mouths shut once they get a little liquor in them. They let it slip that we're part of the notorious Devil's Hole Gang to some of the gals over there at the saloon. After the bank was hit, it was only a matter of time before the law would be looking our way so we set out quick as lightning."

"Wheat, that's about the lamest story I've heard yet. You couldn't even get your own gramma to believe that."

"It's true, Heyes, honest!" Lobo pipes up.

"OK. Let's just say I was to believe you…who do you think robbed the bank then?"

With furrowed brow, Wheat responds, "I ain't rightly got that figured, just yet. But I'm working on it and you can bet I'll have it worked out soon."

"Glad to know that, Wheat! Then you won't be needing me and the Kid's help, after all. Once you get it figured, you can just tell the law and they'll be more than happy to let you outta here!" Heyes says, with more than a touch of sarcasm.

The sarcasm is lost on Lobo who replies, "You know that law ain't gonna turn us loose even when Wheat figures out who the real robbers are. We all got sizable rewards on our heads. No sir, we'll be in jail for a long time unless you and the Kid help us escape."

Heyes looks around at the four men staring at him expectantly and sighs. "Before I agree to help you, I'm gonna have to talk it over with the Kid. You boys sit tight here and I'll be back tomorrow."

Wheat snorts derisively, "Well, we was planning on dinner at the mayor's place tonight, but if you want us to sit tight, then we'll sit tight."

With a tight-lipped smile, Heyes rises from his seat on the cot, stares Wheat down and calls for the deputy to let him out. "Now remember, keep your mouths shut and don't say anything to anyone until I say so."

The deputy opens the cell door for Heyes, all the while studying his face intently. Heyes is mildly uncomfortable with the scrutiny and self-consciously reaches up to finger his mustache to make sure it is still in its proper place. "You tell the sheriff I'll be back tomorrow to speak to my clients." Then he leaves the office, doffing his hat to the sheriff on the way out.

The deputy returns to his desk. "You know, Sheriff, there's something mighty familiar about that lawyer. I could swear I've seen him some place before but I can't quite put my finger on it."

"Ummm…" the sheriff replies distractedly.

"Yessir…something mighty familiar."


* * * * *

At nightfall, as planned, Heyes and Curry return to the old farmhouse where they left Kyle earlier in the day. Curry is just tying up his horse as Heyes rides up. They greet each other casually before entering the house, which is illuminated by a couple of kerosene lamps. Kyle is dozing in a rickety chair with his feet up on the equally rickety table.

Heyes and Curry look at each other, grinning wickedly. Stealthily they approach Kyle, and Curry shouts, "Get yur hands up, ya lousy outlaw."

Kyle jolts awake, jumps to his feet while throwing his hands up in the air, and whirls around, just in time to see Heyes and Curry in the throes of delighted laughter.

Once Kyle is able to speak, he says sulkily, "You guys are just lucky I didn't go for my gun. I coulda shot you for pulling a stunt like that. I been working on my fast-draw, ya know. Getting' purty good, too!" Trying to regain his dignity, Kyle draws a deep breath and puffs his chest out.

Heyes and Curry try to stifle their laughter. Heyes manages to nod solemnly at Kyle and Curry says, "You're right, Kyle. That was a fool thing to do. I wouldn't want you drawing on me."

This brings more ill-concealed snickers from Heyes, which Kyle gamely tries to ignore.

"Here, to make it up to ya, I brought you these." Curry holds out some sacks. "It's some dried beans and the like, to hold you over out here."

Kyle shoots Heyes a haughty look and says to Curry, "Thanks, Kid. You're a real friend."

Finally suppressing his giggles, Heyes looks contritely at Kyle, "Oh, now…don't get your dander up, Kyle. We was only having a little fun with you. No harm done, right? And we came back out here to see you just like I promised this morning. You should be happy to see us. And we should be more'n a little mad at you for not telling us that you boys didn't really rob that bank after all."

"What? Whaddya mean they didn't rob the bank? They let themselves get locked up for a bank robbery they didn't even do? Well, if that don't beat all!"

"That's right. These geniuses didn't rob that bank, someone else did. And whoever it was is smart enough to know the Devil's Hole Gang would be blamed. Probably figure to get off scot-free while Wheat and the others take the fall."

"Yeah, it's true we didn't do the bank job, Kid, and I woulda told ya, 'cept Wheat said I shouldn't."

"Now we got no choice but to help them escape, Heyes! I mean, we can't sit back and let them be sent to prison for something they didn't do. Can we?"

"No, I reckon we can't. But it would be a lot easier if they had done it. At least then we could make 'em return the money in case the law somehow connects Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes to their escape. If that happens, we can kiss our amnesties goodbye. We're going to have to think this through before we go in there and git 'em."

Kyle looks disappointed, "No dynamite?"

"No dynamite…at least not yet."

"So do you have a plan yet, Heyes?" Curry asks.

"Not yet, Kid…but it would sure be nice if we could find out who actually got the money. If we don't, we're going to have to come up with it ourselves to protect our amnesty. Just exactly how much did the robbers get away with, Kyle?"

"Right around $22,000."

Curry whistled softly between his teeth. "$22,000. Where we gonna find that kind of money quick enough to do any good? Do you think you can win that much at the poker tables in town, Heyes?"

"It's possible, Kid. But it'll be tricky. If the sheriff or his deputy see me in the saloon playing poker, they might connect me to good old Chester P. Thornton, attorney at law."

"Huh?"

"I'll explain later on our way back into town, Kid. Let's get going. I have a lot of thinking to do before tomorrow and we need to get some rest."

On their way back to town, Heyes and Curry are discussing the day's events. "So, you see Kid, as long as I'm disguised as their lawyer, I can walk into the sheriff's office anytime I feel like without worrying about a thing. Those two lawmen didn't suspect a thing," Heyes says with a smug chuckle. "It's perfect."

"And you're sure they won't recognize you?"

"I'm sure of it. Oh, the sheriff looks like a pretty smart fellow but there wasn't even a flicker of suspicion in his face when I was talking to him. You know how good I am at reading people…And that deputy can't be more than seventeen or eighteen years old. Still wet behind the ears. Probably hasn't even heard of Hannibal Heyes. No, this plan is foolpr--. Uh…what I meant to say is, they don't suspect a thing."

"Still, it makes me nervous when things seem to be going too smoothly, especially when lawmen are involved. You watch yourself, Heyes, and if there's any sign of trouble, you get yourself out of there. I would feel a lot better if I was there watching your back. What's our next step?"

"Well, I figure we have about 5 days until the trial is set to start so we have to work fairly quickly. I'll go back and talk to Wheat again tomorrow and then we need to see about getting the $22,000 back, one way or the other. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to see how much we can win back at the tables. Once we've got the money, we'll work on getting them out of jail. By the way, you haven't told me what you did all day while I was working my magic over at the sheriff's."

"Oh, yeah. Well, I was checking out the town a little bit. Had a bite to eat at the café and then spent most of the afternoon at the casino. They have a right nice gambling hall in Rock Springs. Lots of games of chance and some pretty nice saloon girls too," Curry says with a smile. "Picked up a few dollars at the blackjack tables while I was there."

"Glad to see you were using your time wisely, Kid," Heyes says with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Hold on, now. I was doing some research too. Talked to a few people who verified that the Devil's Hole Gang were in town before the bank robbery, shootin' off their mouths about who they were. I'm surprised the sheriff didn't get wind of it and run 'em in before the job was even pulled."

"These…people, they didn't happen to be those saloon girls you were mentioning, were they? Mixing business with pleasure again, Kid?"

"As long as I get the job done, what's the harm?"

"No harm. Just remember what we're in town to do. Don't let yourself get too distracted by a pretty face."

"Heyes, I'm hurt. You know me better than that!"

"Uh, huh. Did you learn anything else?"

"Not much yet…but don't worry. I plan to do some more research tomorrow," Curry smiles wickedly.

"Uh, huh."


* * * * *

Next morning, at the sheriff's office, the deputy is waiting anxiously for Oakes to arrive. As soon as the door opens, Hanks jumps up from his chair, in a state of high agitation. "Sheriff, I'm sure glad you're here. I got something real important to show ya!"

"Simmer down, Joe. It's too early in the morning to get all het up about anything unless it's mighty important. Is the coffee hot?"

"Yessir, Sheriff, it is. But I think you really ought to take a look at this!" Hanks has a sheet of paper clutched tightly in his hand.

"Gimme a minute, would ya?" The sheriff gets his coffee while Joe waits impatiently. Finally, he settles himself behind his desk. "OK, Joe. What's got you so riled this morning?"

Joe hands Sheriff Oakes the piece of paper he is holding. The sheriff takes several seconds to look it over, perplexed. "This is a wanted poster for Hannibal Heyes. What about it?"

"Do you remember that I said that lawyer looked awful familiar to me? Well, it was eating at me all night so I came in early this morning and found this."

"I don't follow you, Joe. What does Hannibal Heyes have to do with Thornton?"

"Thornton is Hannibal Heyes!"

"That's just plumb ridiculous, Joe! Even Hannibal Heyes wouldn't be nervey enough to walk in here acting like a law-abiding citizen, let alone a lawyer! No, you must be mistaken."

"Nossir! I'm positive it's him! I've seen Hannibal Heyes in person myself and, let me tell you, I will never forget his face. He fooled me for a while with that disguise, but it's him alright. I'd stake my life on it."

"You've met Hannibal Heyes?"

"My ma and me were passengers on a train he and his boys robbed a few years ago. Heyes himself escorted me and a bunch of the other passengers off the train. That outlaw looked me right in the eye and smiled nice as you please. Even helped my ma down the steps. Right polite fellow, if you want to know the truth."

"If that's so, how come he didn't recognize you yesterday?"

"Like I said, this was a few years ago. I was probably only about fourteen years old. I've grown a considerable amount since then. Anyway, as many trains as he robbed, it's not likely he would remember one young kid."

Sheriff Oakes' eyes widen in the realization that, if what his deputy says is true, he let a notorious outlaw walk right into and then out of one of his cells. "I don't know if you're right or not, Joe, but I'll tell you one thing…I'm not gonna take any chances. When that fellow shows up here, once that cell door swings shut, I'll know the truth before it swings back open. Until then, we need to act natural so those outlaws back there don't get the idea that we might be onto them."

"Yessir, Sheriff."

The clock on the wall ticks off a couple of hours as the two lawmen wait anxiously, all the while trying to appear nonchalant. Their efforts are mostly wasted because Wheat and the boys are oblivious to any change in the atmosphere of the office. At ten o'clock, the front door opens and Heyes, dressed in his Chester P. Thornton, attorney at law, disguise enters the office, smiling broadly as though he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Morning, Sheriff…Deputy. I'm here to visit your prisoners again."

The sheriff breathes a sigh of relief, his worry that he had let Hannibal Heyes slip through his fingers gone. With a steady voice, he reminds the "lawyer" that they need to search him again. When the search is complete, the sheriff himself leads Heyes down the corridor to the cellblock. "Here's your lawyer, men," he calls to the prisoners, who have all risen to greet their visitor. They are all smiling broadly. The sheriff unlocks Wheat's cell door. No one notices the slight tremor in his hands that is betrayed by the louder-than-normal clinking of the keys on the key ring.

"Hello, boys. Good to see you again. The sheriff been treating you OK?" Heyes says as he enters the cell.

"Oh, yeah," Wheat snorts. "It's just like the Grand Hotel in here. Best jail-cell in Wyoming, I hear tell."

As the door slams shut, Heyes winces again and his intuition tells him that he may have made an error in judgment. This feeling is bolstered by what the sheriff says next. "Joe, come back here. I want you to take a good look at our friend." Heyes turns back toward the front of the cell just as Joe comes down the hallway. "Is this the man you remember? Look careful now, Joe. We don't want to be making any mistake about this."

Joe looks at Heyes for an uncomfortably long time. "Take off them glasses, would you Mr. Thornton, or should I say, Mr. Heyes? And while you're at it, that mustache looks mighty suspicious. I think you could lose that too."

"Oh, now, wait a min-," Heyes starts to protest.

"Do it! Now!" The sheriff insists. "We know who you are, so there's no use denying it. You ain't goin' anywhere for a long while, except to the Wyoming Territorial Prison, that is."

Heyes looks at Wheat accusingly, "What did you do, Wheat!"

To the man, Wheat and the rest have been watching the exchange between Heyes and the lawman with mouths hanging open in disbelief. Heyes' accusatory tone snaps Wheat out of his stupor. His eyes focus on the ex-leader of the Devil's Hole Gang and he retorts, "You don't really think I told them you were Hannibal Heyes, do ya? I got more sense than that, ya know."

Heyes rolls his eyes in exasperation, "Ya just did tell 'em, Wheat!" Turning back to the sheriff, he tries again. In his most persuasive voice, he says, "Sheriff, you're making a terrible mistake. My name is Thornton…If I was that notorious outlaw, Whatsisname, would I have waltzed in here like I own the place, not once but twice? No, that badman wouldn't let himself get caught this easy." Encouraged by the doubtful look on the sheriff's face, Heyes continues, "I can prove I'm not Hannibal Heyes. I have a good friend back in Porterville by the name of Lom Trevors. He's the sheriff there. He can verify who I am. All you have to do is send a telegraph and I'm sure he'll be more'n happy to ride on over here and clear this whole matter right up."

After a thoughtful pause, Oakes says, "I have an even better idea, Mr…Thornton. I have a friend, a Sheriff Fuller, up in Rawlins…you should know him if that's where your law offices are. I think I'll just send him a telegraph and inquire about you. Should get the information I need a lot quicker than havin' your friend, Trevors come all the way down here."

Heyes' smile fades as he realizes that his silver tongue hasn't managed to convince the sheriff. Slowly he turns away from Oakes and makes his way to one of the cots. Heavily, he sits down and stares at the floor. Lobo considers for a moment, then approaches Heyes, "Heyes, if yur gonna be staying for a while, I just want to say…that's my bed."

Slowly, Heyes' eyes rise to meet Lobo's. His gaze is menacing. He is in no mood to be trifled with. A look close to fear crosses Lobo's face. Slowly, he backs away from the ex-outlaw and finds a place on the last open cot in the cell.


* * * * *

Curry is in the gambling hall, enjoying the blackjack tables and the attentions of a beautiful saloon girl by the name of Rosie. She has jet-black hair and deep brown eyes. She is hanging on his arm as he plays cards. In front of him is a sizable pile of chips. His luck is good today. But that is about to change.

Suddenly, a cowboy bursts through the doors. He is shouting, "The sheriff just arrested Hannibal Heyes! He's got him locked up in his jail right now! Wahoo! Drinks all around!"

Excited conversations erupt throughout the casino. More men are coming in off the streets with the same story. Word has apparently spread like wildfire through the town. Curry grabs one unlucky soul by the arm to get more information. "What's going on?"

"What are ya, deaf? Hannibal Heyes has been captured. The deputy recognized him from a train robbery done when he was a boy. That's one lucky kid. He's gonna get the ten thousand dollar reward!" The man pulls his arm free and moves away from Curry as quickly as he can. There is something in the gambler's face that is vaguely menacing and he wants nothing more to do with the man.

In a panic, Curry looks around, unsure what his next move should be. His instincts tell him to rush to Heyes' aid, but good sense tells him to wait until he has a chance to think things through. Someone is likely to get killed if he acts hastily and it could be Heyes or one of the other fellows. He can't take that chance.

Rosie is studying him with concern, "Thaddeus, what's the matter, lover? You look like you just lost your best friend. Can I do anything to help, sugar?" She moves a step closer to Curry, trying to bring his attention back to her. He shrugs her off and drops back down into his chair. Almost imperceptively, his face hardens.

"If yur gonna sit there, fella, ya have to play." Curry's thoughts are interrupted by the dealer's gruff voice.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, sorry." Curry picks up the chips on the table in front of him and walks away from the table. He goes to the bar and orders a whiskey. The barkeep sets him up with a glass and is about to walk away with the bottle. Curry quickly downs the shot and snaps, "Leave it!" slaps his money on the bar, and pours himself another.

Hesitantly, Rosie approaches Curry and gently touches his shoulder. "Whatsamatter, honey? Can I help? Maybe you want to go upstairs? We could…talk, or whatever?"

The Kid looks at Rosie, his blue eyes reflecting the anger and confusion boiling within him. "You're right, Rosie. We should talk. I need some information and you might be the perfect person to give it to me."

"Sure, lover. Whatever you want."

"Tell me what you know about the bank robbery and the men who are in jail."

"Well, what do you wanna know…the bank was robbed and those are the ones who robbed it."

"I heard there were no witnesses to the robbery. How did the posse know to look for those men?"

"Oh, that. Well, if the Devil's Hole Gang is in town and the bank is robbed, who do you think they'd go lookin' for?"

"You mean someone here in town recognized them as part of the gang and told the sheriff?"

"Not exactly. A couple of those fellows were shooting off their mouths a few days before the bank was blown. They bragged to some people that they rode with the Devil's Hole Gang. Pretty soon it was common knowledge, at least here in the casino."

"What about the sheriff?"

"Oh, I'm sure he knew. He keeps pretty close tabs on what happens over here."

"I imagine so. So then why do you think he didn't run 'em in before? Those men are wanted outlaws with rewards on their heads."

"Hard to say, sugar. Maybe he didn't see the need as long as they were behaving themselves and not getting into too much trouble." Rosie leans in close, conspiratorially, "Rumor has it, he's done that before."

"Before?"

She leans in even closer. "Not many people around here know but this whole operation is owned by a man who rode with the Jake Lawson gang for a while. Name's Cliff Davis."

"And the sheriff knows this? And he doesn't do anything about it?"

"Sure does. Course he didn't know from the start-but he's known for a while now."

"Maybe I need to have a talk with your boss."


* * * * *