SquidgeWorld Archive

Another Day, Another Posse

“Last one to town buys supper!” joked Hannibal Heyes, trying to make light of their predicament as, once again, a posse was forcing them to split up. Kid Curry raised his eyebrows as if to say, That’ll be you then,
Partner! , a quick grin crossing his face.

Just before they separated their expressions became more serious, with the mutual understanding of the situation. A small smile, from both men, offered some reassurance to the other before they turned their horses in different directions, heading for an agreed rendezvous.

The posse had been chasing Heyes and Curry for three days now, and wasn’t the best that the pair of ex -outlaws had seen, but they were persistent. They figured that, by splitting up, they could easily lose them in the foothills of the nearby mountain range.

Heyes had chosen the route that would take him through some rocky terrain, which would make tracking him near impossible, unless they had an Apache with them, and so far Heyes had seen no evidence of this.

Kid was making his way towards a wooded area, with close growing firs, that offered excellent cover, with soft ground, which also made tracking difficult. He consciously didn’t press his horse too hard, trying to give the animal some respite from the last three days exertion. Kid rode up the slopes, going deeper into the trees, until the canopy of the branches almost completely blocked the heat of the sun. Kid felt the chill of the cooling sweat on his body, causing him to shiver slightly. There was no immediate sign of the posse behind him, making him feel confident enough to take the time to reach for, and put on, his brown, leather jacket. Steering his horse through the close growing trees, he headed on a more direct route, to Little Creek, the town where he was to meet Heyes.

Heyes, meanwhile, was not having such a relaxed ride. He still wasn’t convinced that the posse had an Apache with them, but they had managed to follow him into the foothills. He could see he was going to have to make this a little more challenging for them! He guided his horse up the incline, twisting and turning, changing direction, at every given opportunity. At one point, he dismounted, and tore a branch from a scrub bush, using it to sweep away his tracks. Satisfied that there was no trace of his passing that way, he remounted and set off again.

After another hour of similar manoeuvres, he was beginning to feel confident that he had lost the posse, once and for all. He was inwardly congratulating himself, when his horse suddenly tripped, going down on its knees, pitching Heyes over the front of the saddle in rather an undignified fashion. Finding that he was just winded, he recovered himself and went to check the horse. It stood, head down, flanks heaving, resting its left, foreleg in an awkward position. Straight away Heyes realised that the horse’s leg was broken, and let out a groan. Now he was faced with a dilemma, shoot the horse and alert the posse to his position, or leave it to suffer and die slowly? He had never been a cruel man, on the contrary, he had always treated his animals with kindness and respect, so he walked towards the horse, talking softly to it, took his gun, held it to the horses head and quickly pulled the trigger.


*************************************************

The sun was beginning to set, making it darker under the trees and increasingly difficult for Kid Curry to see where he was going. There had been no sign of the posse following him, and, while this was good, it did concern him that it probably meant they were trailing his partner. He had every confidence in Heyes’ ability to evade his pursuers, but still it made him feel ill at ease. Telling himself there was little he could do, for now, he decided to take a break, get a few hours sleep, and press onto Little Creek at first light. After tethering his horse, he spread out his bed roll, and sat chewing on some beef jerky, not willing to risk a fire. The trees offered some protection from the cooling night air and Kid felt fairly warm and comfortable, on the soft ground. It wasn’t long before the last, three days exertions took their toll and he drifted off to sleep.

Heyes, meanwhile, wasn’t nearly in such a comfortable position. As he had predicted, the posse had heard his shot and had soon been back on his trail. He headed, up into the rocky outcrops, on foot, where it would be difficult for horses to follow. The rocks offered him some protection from being seen as he worked his way higher up. After a while, he stopped, to see if he could gauge what the posse was doing. Putting his ear to the ground, he listened, trying to hear any sound of hoof or foot steps. At first there was nothing, but then he heard the undeniable sound of boot against rock.

“Hell!” Heyes cursed, realising they were still following, on foot, and getting closer.

He looked about him, trying to work out his next move. The sun was beginning to go down, so he reasoned he may be able to lose them in the dark, although walking around in this sort of terrain, with poor visibility, was not wise. He carried on climbing for a while, looking over his shoulder, at intervals, to check on the posse’s progress. He had just negotiated a tricky bit of rock face, when he realised that it was a dead end. There was nowhere to go, except back the way he had come. Reluctantly, he went back, and as he clambered down the last part, in the diminishing light, he saw nine men approaching, all with rifles in hand. Heyes quickly scanned the area, his eyes falling upon a crack in one of the rocks, which might be just big enough for him to squeeze into. He cut some brush wood, erasing his tracks as he went, and crammed his body into the crevice, pulling the brush in front of him. This was not one of his best ideas, he thought, as he would be well and truly trapped if they found him, but he could see no alternative.

He lay, silent and still in his hole in the ground, as the footsteps came closer, trying not to breathe. By now he could hear men’s voices. Through the brush he could now see their boots, as they stood, searching for him.

“Where the hell did he go?” one of the men said. “He can’t just up and disappear!”

They looked around for a short while longer, but as darkness began to descend the posse began to move off. Heyes let out a breath, but did not move, reckoning it would be safer to stay holed up for the night and move on in the morning. He hoped Kid was having better luck, and smiled to himself, as he thought his partner would not have been able to squeeze his more, bulky body into this spot. Sometimes he did feel he had the luck of the Devil on his side. Then it occurred to him, that this hold up probably would mean he’d be buying the supper!


****************************************


Kid Curry awoke to the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked and the feel of cold metal, against his temple.

“Get up, nice and easy now! Raise your hands above your head, real high, where I can see them. Don’t try anything ‘cos there are two more guns pointing at you.”

Kid got slowly to his feet, before raising his hands, his mind racing. He had been so sure that the posse hadn’t followed him. How could he have been so wrong?

When the man, who had been holding the gun to his head, moved around in front of Kid, he realised that he hadn’t been wrong. This man was not from a posse. He looked in his fifties, with a scruffy beard. His clothes were work wear, stained in mud and sweat. Behind him stood two other men, with shotguns pointed at him, similarly dressed, who Kid reckoned were a little older than himself and looked like the man’s sons.

Kid put on his best amiable smile and said, “Look, mister, I don’t know what you want, I haven’t got much money and my horse is near worn out.”

“Not interested in those things, son.” the man replied. “Just the bounty on your head.”

Kid winced inwardly. “I don’t know who you think I am, but my name is Jones, Thaddeus Jones. I’m on my way to Little Creek, looking for work.” he told the man.

The man hesitated for a moment and then replied “Well, we heard tell there was a couple of outlaws on the run in this area, with a posse after them. You fit the description of one of them, and me and my boys here intend to take you in to Little Creek. So, if you’re heading that way anyhow, it don’t make much difference. If we’re wrong, I’ll apologise. If not, we’ll be claiming the reward for bringing you in.”

Kid went to lower his arms, but the man indicated, with his rifle, that he should keep them up in the air. “Boys, bring those ropes and let’s tie him up. If he’s who they say he is I ain’t taking no chances.”

The two younger men did as their father had directed, pulling Kid’s arms behind his back and tying them securely with a length of rope.

“Adam, you go and fetch our horses, now, while we help Mr Curry onto his.” the man told the younger looking of his sons.

“Jones. The name is Jones, and I seem to be at a disadvantage.” said Kid, “You seem to think you know who I am, but I don’t know who you are.”

“Name’s Hollis. Me and my boys work these woods, for timber. We was out hunting this morning. Couldn’t believe our good fortune, when we seen you sleeping there. Turning you in should be a much easier way of making some money!”

Adam returned with two horses, one for his father and one that he shared with his brother, Matthew. Kid was helped onto his horse, where Matthew proceeded to tie his feet, stringing the rope beneath the horse’s belly. Kid was going to protest, but remained silent, resigned that he was going to Little Creek, under escort.

*******************************


Hannibal Heyes spent a cold and uncomfortable night in his hole. He resented the way it made him feel like a hunted animal, trapped and cornered. His dignity and standing as a man was feeling rather dented. Throughout the night he kept waking up, as various parts of his body began to ache, tingle, or just go numb, through lack of circulation. He was cold, too, as the temperature dropped dramatically this high in the hills at night.

By morning, he was desperate to pull himself out of the crevice and stretch his body. Feeling pretty sure that the posse had given up on him, and were no longer around, he pushed aside the brush and scrambled out. The sun was just coming up, and its warm rays were welcome on his chilled back. He stretched his arms and rolled his neck, suddenly aware of how thirsty and hungry he felt, not having not eaten a decent meal for nearly four days. Giving a heavy sigh, he set off, knowing that he had quite a long walk ahead of him, to Little Creek. If he was lucky, Kid would be anxious, when he was so late, and come looking for him. He pictured Kid, sitting in some diner, in town, tucking into a large breakfast, sipping hot coffee, and he quietly cursed him.


**************************************


Heyes couldn’t have been more wrong about what Kid was doing. At that moment he was sat in a jail cell, in the Sheriff’s office. It had been an uneventful trip into town, with Mr Hollis and his sons. No-one had said much, although Kid had tried to engage them in some conversation, trying to win their confidence or sympathy, whilst never giving away his true identity. None of them had responded, so after a while Kid gave up, resigned to the fact that he didn’t have his partner’s silver tongue, and rode quietly along, accepting his fate, for now. He had every confidence that Heyes would be in town and be able to work something out, to help him escape.

When they arrived in town, late in the evening, it was fairly quiet, with only a few people on the street. Someone had greeted Hollis and talked to him briefly, before rushing off to the saloon, shouting “Jonah Hollis and his boys just brought in Kid Curry!”

People seemed to flood out of every door as the message spread about town, all eager to get a look at the notorious outlaw. Kid groaned, and lowered his head. Heyes was going to be real mad at him, if so many people got a good look and would be able to identify him. Sheriff Maloney was not happy about this disturbance in his town, either, and took hold of the situation, getting the prisoner into the jail and locked up, as quickly as possible. He congratulated the Hollis men, who left the jail, without a glance over their shoulders, to go to the saloon, to drink to their good fortune.

The sheriff turned and looked at Kid and smiled. “Kid Curry, in my jailhouse, I’d never have believed it!” he said.

“Me neither!” muttered Kid to himself.

Kid tried to protest his innocence the next day, and was told that it would be sorted out pretty soon. They were in luck, the sheriff assured Kid, as he had sent a wire to the authorities, who had informed him that a Marshal from the Wyoming Territory, just happened to be in the area, and would be able to identify the prisoner as Kid Curry, or not, as the case may be. As Kid sat on the hard bunk in the cell he could only hope that Heyes would turn up before the Marshal.

Heyes did not turn up, and towards the end of Kid’s second day in jail, the Marshal came to identify him. As the man entered the sheriff’s office, Kid froze and cursed his bad luck. It was Gabe Burley, and Kid knew he had no chance of denying who he was to this man.

He had headed a posse that had pursued Heyes and Kid, off and on, for nearly three months, when they were leading the Devil’s Hole Gang. More than once he had nearly caught up with them, and was fully aware of what they both looked like. Marshal Gabriel Burley took his duties extremely seriously, and was wholly proficient in his job.

After identifying Kid, he set about organising his extradition to Wyoming. There was a short ‘trial’ in the judge’s offices in town, where Jedediah ‘Kid’ Curry was legally identified, to allow for his transfer. The whole proceedings took less than ten minutes. The speed at which things were taking place left Kid reeling, especially as there was still no sign of his partner. He was having real difficulty believing that it going to come to an end so simply. He had always thought that he and Heyes would get caught or killed in a dramatic shoot out. This was, quite simply, an anti climax and not at all how he had imagined it would be.

The following day, early in the morning, Burley turned up at the sheriff’s office, a set of leg and wrist manacles, and chain, in his hand. At gun point, Kid was told to turn and face the back wall of his cell, while the Marshal entered, manacling his legs together. He was then instructed to turn around, whilst the metal cuffs were put around his wrists. His hands and feet were joined together with a length of chain. Burley was taking no chances with this man, especially when he knew his partner would probably be nearby, somewhere, waiting to make his move.

As Kid was directed towards the jailhouse door, panic gripped him. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. It had only been a few days since he had been riding alongside Heyes, and now he was on his way to the Wyoming State Penitentiary, for twenty years. His fear rose, suddenly, and uncontrollably, and, as he was about to walk out of the jailhouse door, he stopped and took a few paces back. Deputy Fowler, who was following behind, gave him a shove with the butt end of his rifle, causing Kid to spontaneously jab him in the chest with his elbow. The Deputy’s response was to hit him in the head, causing Kid’s head to spin, as he staggered forward from the blow.

“There’s no need for that, Fowler.” said Sheriff Maloney as he steadied Kid from the blow, and with a firm grip took Kid’s arm, guiding him towards the waiting wagon, which was to take him to the train, which would then take him on to Wyoming.

“Best if you don’t fight it, son.” Burley warned him. “Could make things a whole lot worse for yourself.”

His head still swimming, Kid obliged the Marshal by walking towards the waiting wagon, where he was helped up into the back, by the sheriff and his deputy. As the wagon started to move off, Kid scanned the area, hoping to catch sight of Heyes, but he was nowhere to be seen. Kid was really starting to panic now.


****************************************


As the sun beat down, Heyes cursed his luck. It was bad enough the posse following his trail, but for his horse to snap a leg, was downright meanness! He had been walking all day, and his disposition was growing increasingly disagreeable. He cursed the sun, the dry and rocky ground, and the lack of water, but most of all he cursed, Kid Curry. Where in hell was his partner, and friend, when he really needed him? Probably shouldering up to some saloon girl, cold beer in hand, with a nice full belly! Heyes continued to trudge on throughout the heat of the day, determined to get to the town before nightfall. Having spent two nights out on the trail, with no supplies or basic comforts, he was desperate to see some vestiges of civilisation.


The sun had been down a couple of hours when Heyes saw the glow of the town lights ahead. The welcoming sight gave him the incentive he needed, to walk just that little bit further. By the time he reached town, his feet were so sore he was hobbling, and all he could think of was a nice, cold beer, and taking off his boots, followed by a long soak in a bath. He debated where to go first, and decided on the hotel, so he could clean up, thinking that he must look quite a sorry sight, and didn’t want to draw attention to himself because of his appearance.

As he entered the hotel lobby, he was surprised at how busy it was, and was, in fact, lucky to get one of last available rooms. He ordered a bath, and casually enquired as to whether a friend of his, a Mister Thaddeus Jones, was registered, and was a little perturbed when he received a negative response. Too exhausted to think about anything but taking the weight off his feet, Heyes dragged his weary body up the stairs to his room, and slumped down onto the bed. Within a few minutes he had fallen asleep.

It was about an hour later that he was woken by a knocking at the door. He was instantly alert, a skill honed from years of practice of being on the run. He automatically reached for his gun, taking it from his holster, that he had hung on the bed post. As he reached the door he was relieved to hear a voice call “Bath, for Mister Smith”, but disappointed that it was not Kid he heard. Heyes ran his fingers through his hair and after unlocking the door, for his bath to be brought in, returned his gun to the holster.

Heyes felt a lot more human after his sleep, and a good wash. He had no clean clothes to change into, having left his saddlebags with his abandoned, dead horse, but managed to shake a lot of the dust out of the ones he had been wearing. There was also no razor, either, which irritated him, as he much preferred being clean shaven, but he would wait, and borrow Kid’s when he eventually turned up.

In desperate need of a beer, he made his way down to the saloon, thinking that if Kid was going to be anywhere other than the hotel, that’s where he‘d be. When he entered, he was again surprised, at how busy it was. Casting his experienced eye around the room he was disappointed to find that Kid was not there either. Deciding that he would be patient for a little while longer, to see if his partner turned up, he ordered his drink, and was grateful they also served food. While he waited for his meal to arrive, he surveyed his surroundings. There were a few poker games that caught his eye and Heyes considered joining one, after he had eaten, because, if Kid was this late meeting up with him, he sure was going to be hungry and filling him up would take some serious funds !

He turned back to the bar, finding himself standing next to a fairly well dressed man, in a suit. He gave him a polite nod. The man reciprocated the greeting.

“Kinda busy in here tonight ain’t it?” Heyes commented. “Is it usually like this?”

“Hell, no!” answered the man. “It’s on account of them having that outlaw in the jail. Everyone was expecting a hanging.”

Heyes felt his blood run cold, but knew he had to ask the question. “Which outlaw we talking about?”

“Kid Curry of course! Didn’t you know? Some loggers caught him and brought him in.” he answered.

Heyes swallowed, hard, then asked casually “When’s the trial?” although every nerve in his body felt tense.

“No trial. They shipped him off to the penitentiary earlier today. Heard he’s going away for twenty years, rather than hang him, on account that in all the trains and banks he robbed he never shot anyone. Can you believe that of Kid Curry? Makes you think ….”

Heyes did not hear the end of the man’s conversation; he was too busy trying to take in the first bit of information. How in hell had this happened?

As Heyes looked about the saloon, everything seemed to be a blur as he tried to focus on the present situation. With his head spinning, he gathered himself, and, regaining some composure walked from the saloon, in a numbed state, not hearing the bartender telling him his food was ready, or the continuing banter of the man at the bar.

The night air hit Heyes with a cold blast, bringing him more to his senses. His mind continued to race, trying to comprehend what he had been told, but he felt at a total loss as to what to do. His first instinct was to get his horse, ride to Wyoming and blast his partner out. But Heyes knew this was not a realistic, or workable, plan. Needing to think, he began walking, as Heyes did his best thinking whilst pacing around. The night was getting increasingly cold, so he pulled his coat collar up around his neck and dug his hands deep into his pockets.

He walked to the outskirts of town, and then doubled back through the side streets, not really aware of where he was, or where he was going. When he did eventually stop, he found he had instinctively arrived outside the telegraph office. Knowing that he was going to need assistance if he was going to save Kid, the one person that could possibly be trusted and of help, was Lom Trevors, the Sheriff of Porterville, who had supported them on their quest for amnesty. Heyes wasn’t sure what Lom could do, but he was having trouble coming up with any possible ideas of his own.

Heyes sat impatiently outside the telegraph office, for hours, waiting for it to open. During this time he mulled over many plans and options as to how to help the Kid, drawing a blank each time. For once his quick and nimble mind was letting him down, just when he needed it most. He would need more than his silver tongue to get them out of this predicament, he decided.

As soon as the operator came to unlock the door in the morning, he was straight in, sending a message to Lom, telling him that, T. Jones was in serious trouble and needed help, and that Smith was on his way to Porterville.

Luckily there was a train leaving, in that direction, that morning, from Little Creek. The journey would only take a day and a half, but to Heyes it seemed like forever. All the time he was thinking - How had Kid got caught? How had he been sent off to the penitentiary so quickly? What sort of state was he in? Had he been injured? All these thoughts played on Heyes’ mind, until he tried to block it all out, and tried to come up with a plan to get Kid out.


*************************************

Kid Curry had an uncomfortable journey in the back of the wagon. The road was rough, and uneven, and with his arms and legs chained, he found it difficult to keep his balance and regularly got thrown onto his side. His head was still throbbing from the blow the deputy had given him, and the metal manacles were cutting into his wrists and ankles. He was not really aware of any of this, baring it in quiet sufferance. His thoughts were elsewhere, wondering what his future held, and how he would cope being locked up for twenty years. What troubled him most was what had happened to Heyes, and whether he was alright. It was incomprehensible to him that he might never see him again and couldn’t believe that part of his life was over, wouldn’t believe it. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back, and took in a deep breath, swallowing hard, fighting the emotion he felt rising within him, trying to convince himself that Heyes was fine and that he’d be able to feel if he were dead. At this moment he felt nothing but emptiness.

After nearly a day of being jostled about in the wagon, they eventually stopped at a railway siding. Marshal Burley was taking no chances, and had arranged for the train to stop in an isolated spot, near a water tower, just outside the town of Clearwater, before taking them on to Wyoming. While Deputy Fowler went to check to see if the train was coming, Burley kept his seat at the front of the wagon, turning to Kid, to check that the chains were still in place. He took a cigar from his pocket, lighting it with care and precision. He tossed the match aside, and then returned his gaze to Kid, who sat quietly, head slightly bowed.

Burley contemplated the man before him. He wasn’t what the Marshal had expected from someone of Curry’s reputation. During the month he had trailed them, Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes had outwitted and bluffed him so many times that he had given up hope of ever catching up with them. He had even considered handing in his badge at one point. The disappointment of not actually catching Curry himself, irked him, but perhaps, capturing Heyes instead would be of some compensation.


Deputy Fowler returned with the news that the train was in sight and would be at the junction in about five minutes. Burley jumped down from the front of the wagon, scrubbing out his cigar on its wood side. He walked around the back and gestured, with his hand, for Kid to get out. It was not an easy manoeuvre, but he finally managed to get himself into a kneeling position. Kid then had difficulty getting up onto his feet, due to the manacles about his wrists and ankles. The deputy was getting impatient, and jumping up into the wagon, unceremoniously dragged Kid to the back, waited for him to swing his legs over the edge, and then pushed him off, causing him to land on a heap on the floor. He lay there for a moment, trying to keep his temper under control. No matter what he had done in the past, it didn’t warrant being man handled in this undignified fashion. He gritted his teeth, and attempted to make a move to stand up, and suddenly felt the strong arms of the Marshal pulling him to his feet.

As the train came closer, Kid heard the familiar sound of the whistle, the screeching brakes, and hiss of steam. Images of trains, which he and Heyes had stopped, flashed through his mind, evoked by those sounds. He found himself thinking, it was ironic, that a train would be taking him to his fate, for those very robberies.

The train came to a stop by the tower, and the engineer climbed on top of the engine to fill the tank with water. Burley took Kid by the upper arm, with a firm grip, and directed him towards one of the freight cars. Kid threw him a questioning look, but Burley just nodded towards the open door of the car and guided him forwards. Kid could only manage to shuffle, in his bindings, making him grimace at the indignity of it all. On reaching the freight car, Kid once again looked at Burley as to how he was expected to get in there. The Marshal jumped up into the car, and ordered Kid to turn around, with his back to the door. He then signalled Deputy Fowler to give a hand, as he grabbed Kid by the shoulders, pulling him up into the boxcar while the Deputy helped push him from the ground.

Once inside, Kid sat on the floor until, with no words spoken, Burley pulled him to his feet, and led him to one side of the car. He then proceeded to unlock the chain which connected Kid’s hands to his feet and threaded it through a metal ring attached to the wall. The chain was then re-locked, and Kid was told to sit on the floor with his back to the wall. The length of the chain meant that Kid was left with his arms raised up, to head level, the weight of his hands causing the manacles to chafe his wrists even more. Kid Curry remained in this position for the next eight hours, as the train made its way to Wyoming, and the State Penitentiary.


******************************************



It was early evening when Heyes’ train pulled into Porterville. Before it could come to a complete stop, he jumped to the platform and made his way, straight to the Sheriff’s office. He was oblivious to his surroundings, his only concern being to reach Lom as quickly as possible, so that they could work out the best way to get Kid out of that place.


Usually, Heyes exerted some caution before entering a Sheriff’s office, even Lom’s, but he blasted in, throwing the door wide open. Lom was momentarily taken aback, but on realising who had entered in such a fashion, and opened his mouth to give him a piece of his mind, until he saw the look on Heyes’ face. It was one of sheer desperation and anxiety. Lom had never seen him look this way before. He had received Heyes’ telegraph that morning, but hadn’t been able to gather any detailed information due to a storm, which had torn down several telegraph cables, making the incoming message late and preventing him sending any telegraphs out.


“What the hell’s happened, Heyes?” enquired Lom, as he shut and locked the door of his office, behind the clearly, distressed figure who had entered. “And where’s the Kid?”

Heyes turned his eyes to Lom and said quietly, “They got him, Lom. They got Kid, and he’s in the penitentiary. You’ve got to help me. We’ve got to get him out.”

“Whoah! Slow down! What you talking about? What do you mean the Kid’s in the penitentiary? How did that happen?”

“We’d been chased by a posse for three days, Lom, so we decided to split up. They followed me, but apparently someone else caught up with Kid, and by the time I’d got to town, it was too late, he was gone. You’ve got to help me. I don’t know what to do!”

Heyes said this last line in total anguish, as he scanned Lom’s face for reassurance. Lom had never seen Heyes like this before, his normal poise and self control was lacking. Heyes was a man who usually had some plan, or other, for any situation, but the man who stood before him now, seemed lost.

At first Lom didn’t know what to say, and then said, “I don’t see what we can do, short of blasting him out.”

Heyes’ eyes flashed with anger and frustration, and he responded through gritted teeth, “If that’s what it takes, Lom.”

Lom sat down in his chair, resting his elbows on his desk, and leaned forward to Heyes. “Now hold on Heyes, you ain’t thinking straight. You don’t just blow up the State Penitentiary. There’s no way you’d be able to do that, no matter ….”

“Then help me think of something we can do, Lom.” Heyes interjected, “I’m not giving up on Kid just like that. There must be something that you can do. Talk to the Governor! If he hadn’t dragged his feet on the amnesty so much, this would never have happened. It ain’t fair Lom, we’ve both been trying so hard for so long, and been through so much, it can’t end like this. I won’t let it!” Heyes looked defiantly at Lom, daring him to disagree.

“I need to know he’s alright, Lom. There must be something you can do?” Heyes said, more quietly.

“If there’s anything I can do, I will, Heyes, but I’d be risking my friendship with the Governor, my job, and my reputation. At the moment I could probably still get an amnesty for you, but if you go ahead and do something reckless now, that’ll be the end of it.”


Heyes took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper under control. Placing his hands on the desk between them, Heyes lent forward towards the Sheriff. “Lom, I don’t care about the amnesty, if Kid’s not there to share it with me. I understand about your job and all, but I happen to think Kid’s life is worth the risk.”

“I’ll try and talk to the Governor, short of that I’m not sure what else I can do. Sorry, Heyes.” Lom sat looking dejectedly at the man across the desk. He had never felt so useless.

“There must be some way I can get into that place. I need to see him, Lom to make sure he’s alright, and let him know we’re going to do everything we can to get him out.” Heyes furrowed his brow, deep in thought.

“Seems awful risky to me.” Lom responded.

Heyes suddenly felt something move beneath his fingers, and looking down he saw a small, white card, which read: Nathaniel Arkwright. Attorney at Law. He picked it up, frowned slightly, and then said, “Lom, I think I’ve got a plan.”



**********************************************



The rocking motion of the train, eventually lulled Kid into a restless sleep. When he finally woke, his body ached, and he tried to shift position, to ease the pain he felt, mainly in his arms. This movement alerted Marshal Burley, whose hand immediately rested on his gun handle.

“I ain’t going nowhere!” Kid resignedly told him.

Burley merely raised his eyebrows slightly, and then reached inside his jacket, pulling out a hip flask. He took a good, long draught from the container. Kid watched this action keenly, his desire showing clearly in his face. The Marshal regarded him for a moment, hesitated, then offered the flask to Kid, who tried to take it, but the chains prevented it. Burley got up from the box, on which he was sitting, and moved closer to Kid, squatting down in front of him. He lifted the flask to Kid’s mouth, letting a small amount of the liquid drip onto his lips. Kid ran his tongue over them, tasting the whiskey, feeling a desperate need for more, to ease the pain in his arms and back, and to numb his brain from all the thoughts endlessly flooding through it.

Burley went to lift the flask again, then hesitated, looked Kid in the eye, and said, “Where’s your partner Hannibal Heyes, Curry?”

Kid glared at him, before saying, “I don’t know. We split up.”

Burley moved away, and sat back on the box, taking another swig from the flask before placing it back in his pocket. He folded his arms, and said, “You know, I might be able to help you, if you help me find him.”

Kid gazed at him briefly, then, without saying a word, looked away. Even if he did know what had happened to Heyes, there was no way he was going to help this man. He debated for a while whether he should pretend to go along with him, to give himself a chance of escape, but considered it too risky. Burley may not have been able to catch them when they were on the run, but he was good. Kid didn’t want to take a chance that Heyes might be caught too. If that happened he’d never be able to forgive himself.

“You forget, Curry.” Burley continued. “I know you two boys pretty good, and I know you will have agreed to meet up some place. If you co-operate and give me Heyes, I’m sure I can cut a good deal for you.” He wasn’t at all sure that this was the case, but at this stage he thought anything was worth a go.

He tried to push Kid a little further, by saying “After all, he is the one who master minded all your robberies. You were no more than a hired gun, to watch his back, weren’t you? If you help me bring him in I’m sure the law would be lenient on you. Do you think that if he were here instead of you that he’d think twice about turning you in?”

Kid looked at Burley and gave a slight smile. “You don’t know us as well as you think you do, Marshal.” he said, staring defiantly at the man.

Burley narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out just how he was going to get Kid to co-operate. He was running out of time and ideas. He thought about using physical violence, but that had never been his style, and anyway, he didn’t feel that would work with this man. There was an air of confidence and strength about him that made the Marshal uneasy.

Both men remained quiet for some time, the only sound was the steady rumbling of the train along the tracks, punctuated with the occasional, sharp, blast from the whistle, leaving Kid to wonder what had happened to Heyes and where was he now?

After a while another sound could be heard. Kid hadn’t eaten anything since the morning, and his stomach gave out a low rumble. The doors of the box car remained shut and Kid could see no light through the gaps, making it dark, apart from an oil lamp, hung on a nail, in the wall, that illuminated the box car. Kid guessed it must be the middle of the night, as he felt the pangs of hunger contort his stomach.

“You got anything I can eat?” he asked of Burley, breaking their mutual silence.

The Marshal, who had appeared to be dozing, sat up, and reached down to some saddlebags, at his feet, lifted the flap of one, rummaged around, and, eventually, produced a half eaten chunk of bread. This meagre portion was held out to Kid, who eyed it despondently. He raised his hands, to gesture his inability to take it, let alone feed himself.

“How about you let me have my hands back, so as I can eat?” Kid enquired.

Burley just snorted a soft laugh, and held the bread towards Kid’s mouth. Reluctantly, driven by his hunger, he took a bite, chewing the hard, stale, bread, slowly. It only took a few mouthfuls to eat the whole piece.

When his last mouthful was finished, he asked, “Got anything to wash it down with?”

Again, Burley bent forward and picked up a canteen, which he held to Kid’s lips, letting the water dribble down his chin, and onto his chest.

When his immediate thirst was quenched, Kid sat back, mumbling his thanks. He rested his head against the wall behind him, and closed his eyes, contemplating the fact that bread and water might well be his staple diet, for quite a few years to come. His thoughts once again started to drift towards Heyes, as he wondered what he was eating, but consciously pushed them aside, not wanting to think about his partner, feeling totally unequipped to deal with these thoughts, at this moment.

It was mid morning by the time the train pulled into its final destination. As it came to a stop, Burley made his way over to the doors of the box car, opened them, a few inches, and looked out. Kid heard him speak to someone, before turning back to him, fishing in his top pocket with his fingers, and producing a key.

“Well, we’re here.” stated the Marshal, as he bent to unlock the chain, which secured Kid to the wall.

As his arms were released, Kid felt stabbing pains course through them as the circulation returned. It was some moments before he could fully lower them and then only slowly, and painfully.

Burley motioned to Kid to get up, helping him by hauling him up by the cuffs that bound his hands. Kid winced, as the metal bindings cut further into the flesh of his wrists, but said nothing.

He shuffled towards the doors, and, on looking out, saw another wagon, waiting outside. This one, however, was purpose built, for transporting prisoners, and had solid wood sides, and roof, with a door in the back, with a small, barred window. The sight of it filled Kid with dread. He still couldn’t quite believe this was all really happening.

Two prison guards stood at the back of the wagon, looking up at Kid. The one just looked downright mean, with a scarred face and matching scowl. The other stood, with his arms crossed over his rifle, a self satisfied smirk on his face.

“We’ll take it from here, Marshal.” said the scowling man, whose name was Burns. He had been a warden at the prison since the end of the war. The war had aged him, considerably, and he faced life with a hard and cynical attitude. The smiling man was Ferris. In reality, he probably should have been one of the inmates himself, having an unpredictable, and violent, nature, and was feared by many but the most hardened inmates at the prison.

Marshal Burley considered both men before him, and eventually said, “If it’s all the same to you, boys, I’ll finish the job, and ride with you right through those big gates.”

He turned and gestured to Kid to jump down from the freight car. As he hit the ground, Kid stumbled and fell to his knees.

“Well, there’s no need to grovel, Mr Curry, not yet, at least!” taunted Ferris.

Kid shot him a look. A look that in the past had men back down instantly, but Ferris had seen many such looks and laughed, before walking over to Kid, pushing him down so that he lay on the ground.

Ferris squatted down beside him, saying, “Best you leave that attitude behind now, Curry. Your name, and reputation, ain’t worth Jack Shit in the place you’re going to. In fact, it’ll probably work against you. So if you’re wise, you’ll do as you’re told, take what’s given, and mind your own business.”

As he stood, Ferris jabbed Kid roughly in the shoulder, with the rifle butt, to make what he had said hit home. Kid remained silent, quietly seething, but aware that he was in no position to do anything about it.

Burns joined them, spitting a shot of tobacco juice near Kid’s head, before saying, “Come on, stop jabberin’, and let’s get moving.”

Burley stepped forward, making his presence felt, and, without a word, placed his hand on Kid’s arm, lifted him to his feet, and led him to the waiting wagon, helping him in through the door. Burley got in with him, and sat opposite, on one of the hard, plank seats. Ferris slammed the door shut, forcefully, locking it with a large key, which hung from his waist, on a long chain. He smirked once again, before moving to sit upfront, to drive the wagon back to the prison.

Kid’s eyes met Burley’s, briefly, before the Marshal looked away. Kid sat for a moment and then cast his eyes down to his bloodied wrists. Without realising, he let out a loud sigh. Burley looked over at him.

“We’re nearly there you know. If you co-operate now, I might still be able to do something, like get your sentence shortened. Is Heyes really worth you going to jail for the next twenty years? You’ll be stuck in that place while he’s out living the high life. You know it ain‘t going to be easy in there for a man like you. Why don‘t you do yourself a favour - tell me where I can find him.” Burley said in one last desperate attempt to get some information on Heyes’ whereabouts.

Kid met the Marshal’s eyes with a cold, icy stare, and said nothing, but thought to himself, Yes, it’s worth it, to know he’s free and safe.

The rest of the journey to the penitentiary was taken in silence. Neither Burley, nor Kid, had anything more to say to each other. After nearly an hour, the prison loomed into view on the horizon. Kid caught glimpses of it, through the slats in the side of the wagon. He began to feel physically sick at the sight of the large block of a building, and it took every ounce of his self control to maintain his poise and not cry out in sheer desperation.

The wagon rumbled on through large, metal, gates, which had opened as it approached. As it cleared the entrance, the gates shut behind the wagon with a resounding clanging sound that seemed to jar every bone in Kid’s body. When the wagon stopped, the door was opened by Burns, who sneered, as he did “Welcome home!”

Burley stood up first, and jumped down, before turning to help Kid. They were then directed towards a door.
It was dark inside, and it took a while for Kid’s eyes to adjust to the light. When he could see more clearly, he found they were in an office room. There was a large wooden desk, behind which sat a man with a bird like face, all sharp and pointed.

“Who we got here then?” he asked.

“Jed ‘Kid’ Curry.” answered Burley.

The bird man raised his eyebrows, and looked more directly at Kid.

“Ya’ don’t say!” he responded. He then told Burley to sign a docket, which legally signed the prisoner over to the prison authorities. Burley then turned and unlocked the manacles that Kid had endured for so long. As his wrists were released, Kid rubbed them, trying to restore some feeling in his hands. The chafe marks stung, and there was fresh blood visible.

Burley held out his right hand to Kid, who looked at it questioningly, before he realised the man expected him to shake it. Kid did so, some what reluctantly, before the man said “Well, good luck! You‘re going to need it in this place.”

Kid was speechless. It was more than good luck he needed; it was a miracle, if he was ever going to get out of this fix!

After Burley had left, Kid was escorted to another room, where the process of stripping him of any remaining dignity began. First he was told to undress, until he stood naked on the cold, stone floor. The guards then proceeded to hose him down, with ice cold water that stung his skin. Next, after rubbing himself dry with a rough piece of cloth, he was given a set of regulation prison wear. The fabric was coarse and scratchy, as he pulled it on. He was then given a bed roll, and told to follow Ferris, through a further door, into the main part of the prison.

Kid went through the doorway, into a long corridor with another door at the end, but he didn’t really notice this. What hit him first was the putrid, stale, rancid, smell that caught the back of his throat, making him feel like retching. The stench hung in the air, making it almost impossible to breathe. Ferris noticed the expression on Kid’s face, and laughed.

“You’ll get used to that in no time. You won’t even notice after a while!”

Kid couldn’t quite believe this, and yearned for the wide open spaces of the prairie, and clean, fresh, air.

He was led down the corridor, then up steps onto a landing. The constant cry and shouts as men jeered around him, as the party went by, permeated the air.

“What you got there, Ferris?” called out one inmate, as Kid passed his cell.

“Bit too special for you, Todd! This here is Kid Curry, train and bank robber, fast draw, gunfighter. Way too important to be bothered with the likes of you, maggot!”

Kid grimaced at this interchange, knowing it was doing nothing to integrate him into the prison community.

Eventually, they stopped outside one of the cells, and the door was opened, Ferris indicating to Kid to enter. He did as he was bid, and once inside, the door was slammed shut behind him, with a resounding bang, before the key clicked in the lock. Kid stood, motionless for a few moments, before depositing his bed roll on the wood planks that suggested that they were his bed.

He heard the guards walking away, laughing. It was only then that he sat on the bed, pushed himself back into a corner, hugging his knees to his chest, finally letting his guard down, for the first time in days. He bent his head to his knees, placing his hands on top of it, clutching his still damp hair, and sobbed. The only word he uttered, in a desperate tone, was “Heyes!”



**********************************************



Heyes’ plan was beginning to come together. Lom had helped him acquire the articles of clothing he required, without arousing any suspicion. He had spun a tale to the man he borrowed them from, about a friend needing some smart clothes for official law business. The man, knowing Lom well, had asked no further questions.

The suit in question, was dark, with matching waistcoat, and a sharp, white, shirt, and was a little too big for Heyes, but with a little padding, it would do the job nicely.

Heyes had still not shaved since the posse had started chasing him and Kid, and he now sported a close cut, neatly trimmed moustache and beard, which seemed to age him some ten years or so. This aged appearance was added to, by a dusting of powder through his hair and sideburns, making it look slightly grey.

It had taken Heyes and Lom almost a week to get organised. Getting business cards made, with a fictitious lawyer’s name on, and to gather the appropriate official looking paper work, had taken the longest. Lom had been careful who he approached for help, not wanting too many people’s suspicions aroused. He was taking one hell of a risk, for these two boys, but he had to agree with Heyes that they had worked long, and hard, at trying for amnesty, and for it to end like this, seemed a crying shame. Although not totally happy with the situation, Lom was willing to help, as best he could, without jeopardising his career and position.

Lom was due to go and see the Governor at the end of the week, and Heyes would catch the train, part of the way with him, before taking a buggy, on to the penitentiary. When Lom met Heyes at the station, he hardly recognised him; he looked every inch the ageing, slightly, over weight, business like lawyer.

“I’d hire you myself!” he commented.

Although every detail, and scenario, that Heyes could think of, had been gone through, and checked, he was still more nervous than he’d ever been before, even more than before some of the biggest bank and train jobs he and Kid had pulled together. There was so much at stake, and if anything went wrong it would mean both his and Kid’s lives would be finished, with both of them possibly spending the next twenty years in the State Penitentiary.

The train journey was uneventful. The two men said very little to each other, although Heyes’ concern was clear to Lom, as he sat, just staring out of the train window, all the while keeping up the persona of a practicing lawyer. Lom, too, had his own worries. He was not sure how the Governor was going to take his visit. He half expected to be stripped of his badge and shown the door. It was not often that a legitimate lawman asked for a known criminal’s conviction to be over turned, especially one with Kid Curry’s reputation. He just hoped his argument would be convincing enough, so that Heyes didn’t start thinking of plan B to get Kid free. Lom couldn’t help feeling pessimistic about his side of Heyes’ plan, and he was not even convinced about Heyes’ part, which was trying to get into the penitentiary to see Kid. Heyes was a gambler, through and through, but the stakes were very high this time, and Lom just hoped they could pull it off.

After nearly a full day, the train pulled into the station where Heyes and Lom would part company. Heyes gathered the leather satchel, which contained the forged legal papers that would hopefully get him through the gates. Lom had warned Heyes that this part of the plan was not strictly legal, and, if he was found out, he would be on his own. But, now, he shook his hand and wished him luck. Heyes nodded his acknowledgement, and left the train, heading for the hotel, where he would spend the night. The next morning, he would go to the livery, where a hired buggy should be waiting, to take him on the final part of his journey. He turned briefly to watch the train pull away, hoping that Lom would be successful in his task. He tucked the satchel under his arm, and walked to towards the town, looking every inch the role he was playing.



*****************************************************


Prison routine soon became part of Kid’s life. He was woken before six in the morning, and followed his fellow inmates down to the large hall where they were given a bowl of oatmeal that was supposed to sustain them until the midday meal. Kid tried to keep his head down, and keep out of trouble, but his reputation preceded him. The guards gave him the most grief, to begin with, making sarcastic remarks and taunting him. This he could cope with, by shutting his mind to their words. What he found more difficult to cope with was the physical taunts, the constant jabbing in the ribs, and back, from the wood batons that the guards carried. It seemed that, at every corner, or hesitation, there was a guard, poking him, goading him, trying to humiliate him. Kid endured this for the first four days, but without Heyes there to steady his temper, he eventually lost control.

He had been set kitchen duties, and had spent most of the day scrubbing food encrusted pans. This he could deal with, but Ferris was on guard duty, constantly mentioning his ability with a gun, and how it wasn’t doing him much good now. Kid finally snapped when he referred to Heyes and how his so called partner had let him down. Kid had spun round on the spot, and dived for Ferris, knocking him against the wall. Kid instantly found himself pinned down by four guards, who proceeded to beat him mercilessly, while he curled on the floor trying to protect his head with his arms. When they had finished, he was dragged, by his limbs, down a corridor, pushed into a cell, where they cuffed his hands behind his back. They then proceeded to throw buckets of ice cold water over him, commenting that it should cool him off. He was left lying, drenched, on a stone floor, for the rest of the day, and night, his body shaking uncontrollably with cold and distress.

As he lay there, Kid felt at the depths of despair. He was cold, wet, constantly hungry, and the incessant poking and prodding of batons, was leaving his ribs and back, battered and bruised. He had begun to realise how much he’d depended on his partner and friend, not just to lookout for him, but for the companionship they shared. He felt the most wretched that he’d ever felt, even when he had lost his folks and been sent to the home, but Heyes had been there, then. Now, he was totally alone.

By the time the guards came to get him, the next morning, Kid was totally subdued. This however did not stop the onslaught of his abuse. The guards seemed to circle, like predators, aware of a weakened prey, pushing Kid to his limits of endurance, with further verbal, and physical, jabs.

The other inmates were conscious of what was happening, and avoided contact with Kid, as much as possible, so as not to become involved with any situation, afraid of the consequences and what the guards would do to anyone they thought was connected to him. A few of the other prisoners saw an opportunity to win favour with the guards, and a chance at extra privileges, looking for ways in which to get Kid into trouble. For the most part Kid managed to avoid most situations, but being constantly on his guard, without anyone to watch his back, was taking its toll, and he felt increasingly isolated and vulnerable.

Events came to a head one afternoon. Kid had been assigned to cleaning duty, which entailed scrubbing out the slop room, where the urinal buckets were emptied. Even though Kid was getting used to the smell of the place, this particular job took it to new depths, and it was hard to deal with the physical impulses, that made him wretch and fight the constant nausea he felt.

Kid was working alongside three other inmates, one of them being Todd, the man who had called out on the first day. It hadn’t taken him long to realise Kid’s position in the pecking order at the prison, and he fully intended to use it to his benefit, to ingratiate himself to those higher up the ranks. If he could get one over on Kid Curry he’d make a name for himself. He bided his time, and, at the moment the guards looked the other way, dropped one of the slop buckets, letting some splash over Kid, but mainly over himself. Kid stopped mopping, staring hard at the man. He was trying hard to fight the urge to lash out at him, aware that even the most trivial of acts was blown very quickly out of proportion. What he didn’t expect was Todd to throw himself to the floor, screaming, shouting that Kid had attacked him.


For a moment Kid stood, speechless, but, instantaneously the guards spun around, grabbing Kid by the arms, and pulling them behind his back. His feet felt like they were hardly touching the ground as he was marched down the corridors, into a smallish room. This all happened so quickly, that, at first Kid did not take in his surroundings. When he did, he realised he was in a place that contained nothing more than some ropes, and chains, hanging in from the ceiling. As his eyes scanned the room further, he noticed dark markings over the walls and floors, and realised, that they were blood stains. It suddenly struck him what the purpose of this room was, and he began to struggle in the guards’ grip, but it was no use. His shirt was ripped from his back, and he was dragged towards the centre of the room, where his wrists were bound together, with leather thongs that were then attached to a large hook, hanging from the ceiling.

Kid breathed deeply, trying to remain calm, trying to stay in control. There was nothing he could do but wait and see what they intended to do. The first blow came without warning, and as the leather strap made contact with the skin on his back, Kid let out an involuntary cry. He twisted on the hook, trying to escape the following thrashes, that repeatedly stung him, but there was no where to go, as blow after blow scourged his back. Eventually the flogging stopped and the guard stepped in front of Kid, and stood face to face with him.

“You going to do anymore fighting, Curry? Or do I have to give you a little extra reminder?” he said, slapping the strap across his own hand, staining it with Kid’s blood.

“No.” Kid’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“I can’t hear you, Curry!” the guard returned.

“No, Sir. No more fighting.” Kid answered, meekly.

“We’ll leave you here a while, just to make sure you’re convinced.” he was told, and then he was left alone, in the room, hanging by his wrists. He flexed his back, and sharp pains shot across it, where the strap had cut his skin, leaving red, striped wheals. He could feel the trickles of blood as they coursed downwards, soaking into the top of his pants. He inhaled, through his nose, trying to distract himself from the pain, and his thoughts moved to Heyes.

He wondered what he was doing: part of him hoping that he was safe, away from all this, while another part wished that he was there with him, so at least Kid could see him again. But he wouldn’t wish this place on his worst enemy, let alone Heyes, the one person in the world he cared about.

The guards left Kid strung up for a good few hours, by which time sheer exhaustion had taken over, and his head hung down onto his chest. Burns was one of the guards who returned to the room. He stood in front of Kid and lifted his chin with his wooden baton, and sneered at him.

“Not such an impressive outlaw now, are you, Curry. You had enough? You step out of line again, and we’ll be waiting. Next time it won’t be straps either. I’m much handier with a stick, or piece of chain! You understand?” he bawled at him.

Kid nodded, submissively, knowing he couldn’t take much more, just wanting to be left alone. He was grateful to feel himself be lifted, off the hook. Stinging pains shot across his back as his skin creased with the movement. His arms felt like they’d been pulled from their sockets, and it was with some difficulty that he managed to lower them. The bindings around his wrists were released and Kid carefully moved his fingers, trying to restore some sensation of feeling. Burns indicated for Kid to follow the other guard. He did so, trying to walk with as much dignity as he could muster. The walk back to his cell seemed to take forever, but, eventually, they reached the door. Kid had never thought he’d be glad to see this place, but he was, and was thankful when the door was opened and he was pushed inside, and his torn shirt thrown at him.

He stood in the middle of the cell, for a few moments, contemplating the fresh lacerations on his wrists, which lay on top of those made by the manacles, which had just started to heal. Wearily he made his way to the bucket of water, used for washing, and carefully cupped his hands to rinse some of the blood off his back. This done, he moved to the bunk, where he carefully lowered himself face downwards. He laid his head on his arms and closed his eyes, in an attempt to imagine himself any place other than here. Images of the time he and Heyes had spent in the Home for Waywards raced through his mind, as he tried to come to terms with the fact that his life seemed to have come full circle. He reflected on his and Heyes’ lives and thought about what he had done so wrong for it to turn out like this. Kid suddenly felt very tired and weary of living and began to wish it would all end.


He must have eventually dropped off to sleep, as the next thing he knew was that he found himself being woken in the morning, by a guard. At first Kid didn’t quite understand what was being said to him, but, slowly, realised that he was being told to put on his shirt, tidy himself up, and go with the guard. He had a visitor.




*****************************************


Heyes spent the night at the hotel, sat in a chair, not wanting to take off his disguise, partly, in case it didn’t look the same when he put it back on, but mostly, because he wanted to get to the penitentiary as early as possible, the next morning, and didn’t want to waste time dressing and re-doing his hair. He watched as the sun came up, light slowly creeping into the room. The apprehension of going to seeing Kid caused Heyes’ stomach to tighten. He had arranged to arrive at the prison at nine in the morning. It was about an hour’s journey, so, at seven, he went down to breakfast. He wasn’t really hungry, but knew he had to keep his strength, for Kid’s sake, so drank coffee and ate ham and eggs, and ordered flapjacks too, which he wrapped in a napkin, and placed in his pocket, for later.

Just before eight, he arrived at the livery to collect his buggy. He was reassured that his disguise was working well, by the manner in which the livery man, Johnson, dealt with him. Johnson offered to find him a driver, saying that although the trip was straight forward, the penitentiary was not the nicest of places and he might be grateful to have someone drive him back. Heyes managed to decline his offer, assuring him that, due to his job, he was used to such places, but nothing could be further from the truth. He was not sure what would be waiting for him there, and indeed, if he would even be returning. Heyes climbed into the buggy and set of on his journey with a feeling of trepidation and commitment.

As he approached the building, Heyes found his throat had gone dry and his palms were sweating. He took several deep breaths, calming himself. A guard met him at the gate and Heyes handed him a piece of paper, announcing himself as Morris Denbury, Esquire, attorney of Law, here to see a client, on behalf of a third party. The guard glanced at the paper work, then turned and signalled for the gates to be open. Heyes sighed inwardly. He was in.

He stopped the buggy by a guard, who had obviously been sent to meet him. Heyes acknowledged him with a slight smile and a nod. The guard merely scowled back. Heyes climbed down from the buggy, in such a way to suggest his assumed age, collected his satchel, and followed the guard into the same office room that Kid had arrived in. Again, he handed over some paper work. Lom had certainly done a good job, because it was not questioned this time either.

“You’re here on behalf of an anonymous client then, Mister Denbury? What would anyone want with Kid Curry? I don’t see that you can do much for him. He won’t be leaving here for a good long while, but I guess that’s your business.” the guard said.

“Guess it is.” Heyes answered.

He was handed back the paper work, and told to follow a guard, into another room.

Heyes was not led through the same door that Kid had been taken, on first arriving, but was shown to an inner office that was simply furnished with two wooden chairs and a table. He made out that he was sorting papers, keeping his back to the door, not wanting want to run the risk of Kid recognising him immediately, and calling out his name. He heard the door open behind him, and the shuffle of feet, as someone entered. His whole body tensed, not quite believing he’d made it this far.

He heard the guard issuing instructions that Kid should sit down. Still, Heyes kept his back to them, avoiding any visual contact, desperate for the guards to leave, so he could see Kid.

He heard one of the guards mention securing the prisoner to the chair. Heyes turned slightly, asking whether that was strictly necessary, and was told it was.

“This here is one of our most dangerous prisoners, isn’t that right, Curry?” Ferris said, sniggering.

“I’d like to be alone with my client now, if you don’t mind.” Heyes said, in a voice of authority.

Ferris made a huffing noise, and then told the other guard to open the door. As they were about to leave he turned and said, “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, Heyes spun around, but what met his eyes, shocked him into silence. Kid sat in the chair, his head bowed, his arms secured to his side, and his feet also tied to the chair.
Heyes did a double take just to make sure this was his friend. How could anyone’s appearance change so dramatically in little under a month?

Heyes stepped forward, and squatted down in front of the chair, looking up at Kid. His expression was blank, he was gaunt and drawn, with cuts and bruising over his face.

“Kid.” Heyes said, softly.

At first, he thought Kid hadn’t heard him, and then slowly, he lifted his head slightly, and looked into the dark eyes of his friend. It took him a few moments to recognise the familiarity in those eyes before Kid, disorientated by the appearance of the man before him, realised who it was.

“Heyes?” he managed to choke. “That you?” he said, in disbelief that this slightly plump, middle aged man was in fact his partner.

Heyes forced a smile, still in shock at the state Kid was in, and tried hard not to show how distressed he really was.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Heyes reached out and touched Kid’s arm, as reassurance, not quite believing how thin he felt beneath the rough fabric of his shirt.

Kid went to reach out to him too, but found his arms bound down to his sides. He looked intently at his friend, fighting back the tears of relief, which threatened to flow.

“You’re not … How did you …?” Kid was momentarily lost for words, not quite daring to believe this was happening, as he had almost given up hope of ever seeing Heyes again.

“I’m going to get you out of here, Kid. I promise.”

Kid bowed his head again. “You shouldn’t be here, it’s too dangerous. What if they find out? Please, Heyes, go while you can.” he said softly.

Heyes faltered, while he tried to find the right words of encouragement.

“Lom’s gone to see the Governor to plead your case. Just hang on in there, Kid. I ain’t going to leave you here.”

“I know, Heyes. I trust you to do what you can, but I can‘t see me ever getting out of this place. Can‘t deny who I am, or what I‘ve done, but appreciate you trying.” Kid answered, a look of hopelessness in his blue eyes.

Heyes didn’t know what to say to his friend as he didn’t really know how he was going to get Kid out, but as he looked at him, now, he knew he had to, and soon. He had never seen him look so defeated before.

“Don’t look like they’re feeding you too good, you’ve lost a little weight.” he said eventually, knowing this was an understatement. He suddenly remembered the flapjack, from breakfast, in his pocket, and took it out, and went to tuck them in Kid’s shirt. As he lifted the fabric, he noticed the unmistakable colour of blood, staining the fabric.

“You’ve been hurt!” Heyes stated.

Kid let out a strangled sort of laugh. “Yeah, just a bit.” he said, not wanting to worry his friend with the full truth of the matter. “Got into a fight, you should see the other fella.”

Heyes was desperate to untie his partner, to see how badly he was really hurt, but when he made a move to do so, Kid quietly said, “Best not to. Don’t want to cause any trouble.”

It was all Heyes could do to nod his understanding, before trying to explain what had happened to him after they‘d split up.

“I had a little difficulty getting away from the posse, that’s why I was late getting to town. By the time I got there, they’d already moved you. I …” he faltered, suddenly feeling it wasn’t important anymore.

Instead, he probed Kid for any information that might help, if indeed, he did have to break him out of this place, if the legal route didn’t work.

The sounds of approaching footsteps were heard, and both men realised, simultaneously, that their time was up. Burns and Ferris both came into the room.

“Time to go, Curry.” Ferris said, as he roughly pulled at the bindings, that had secured Kid to the chair.

“Hey!” Heyes suddenly found himself saying, with just a little too much concern in his voice. Burns shot him a questioning look, but Heyes managed to cover himself by saying he didn’t think his client would appreciate the way Mr Curry was being handled. Ferris merely laughed, as he dragged Kid towards the door.

“Just because of who he is, don’t mean he gets any special treatment in here. Treated just the same as everyone else, ain’t that right, Curry?” sneered Ferris.

The friends’ eyes met for a moment, a sadness in the blue of Kid’s, and a dark anger, born of frustration, in Heyes’.

“Don’t you worry, Mr Curry, we’ll have you out of here in no time. Take care of yourself.” was all Heyes could think to say, as he watched his partner, being led away, back to God knows what. Heyes put the papers back into the satchel, and then stopped. Resting his hands on the top of the table, he gripped the edge, and took several deep, long breaths, before standing up, and leaving the room.

Kid patiently endured the walk back to his cell, being taunted, and jeered, by Ferris and Burns along the way, about his fancy lawyer, and whether a pretty lady had perhaps, employed him, to get him out.

“You got some pretty, little girl waiting out there for you, Curry? Going to be a long time to you get to see any of that sort of action!” laughed Burns. “Mind you, we could probably help you out in that department - got some friends who be mighty keen to spend some time with a pretty boy like you!” he jibed at him.

Kid kept his eye focused straight in front of him, desperate to get back to his cell, afraid of what he might do to this man if he continued talking much longer. Eventually they came to his door, and he went in.

As Ferris was about to close the door, he said, menacingly, “See what I can do to get you a little companionship. You must be really missing your partner!”

Kid closed his eyes, and swallowed hard, trying not to let this man’s words to get to him. He was grateful to hear the door click shut, and relieved to find himself alone. He rubbed his face with his hands, and ran his fingers through his, now, longish hair, before sitting carefully on his bunk. The cuts on his back had dried and hardened, and pulled with every movement making it difficult to sit comfortably. As he tried to find a tolerable position, he felt something pressing into his stomach, and remembered the flapjack Heyes had placed there. He pulled it out, carefully unwrapping it, not wanting to drop any, and ate it greedily, licking his finger tips, and picking up every last crumb he could find, savouring the sweet taste. When he had finished, he took the napkin, and held it to his nose, taking in the comforting smell. He held it tightly in his hand, revelling in the fact that this was something tangible for him to hold on to, that connected him to the outside world. He did have something to live for, Heyes, and the possibility that his partner would get him out of this God forsaken place.


**********************************************


The buggy trundled along the road in a steady rhythm, Heyes occasionally slapping the reins, on the horse’s back, to keep it moving forward. He managed to maintain the act of being a professional lawyer until he was a few miles away from the penitentiary. When he found the right spot, he drove the horse off the main track, and pulled it to a stop. After tying off the reins, he jumped down, and all the anger, and frustration, of seeing his partner in such terrible conditions, suddenly exploded from within him. He let out a loud cry of anguish, and cursed, clenching his fists tightly to his side, afraid of what he might do if he lost control now. His first thought was to go directly to the Governor, and just shoot him. How could he allow this to happen? The way Kid was being treated in that place was totally unjustifiable to him, but he just didn’t know how to solve this problem, and now there was a real pressure of time, as he just wasn’t sure Kid would be able to endure it much longer. Heyes could only hope he’d stay in control, and not do anything rash.

As he began to run his fingers through his hair, he felt the powder on his hand, and checked himself, aware that he had yet to return the buggy to town, as Morris Denbury. Collecting his thoughts, he stood with his eyes closed, concentrating on steadily breathing in and out, before climbing back into the buggy and heading for town.

Johnson greeted him out the front of the livery, on his return. He took the horse’s head, and enquired, “Successful trip I hope, Mr Denbury, Sir?”

“I hope so, too.” was the cryptic response.

Heyes wanted to get back to Lom as quickly as possible, to find out how he had got on with his meeting with the Governor. On enquiring at the station, he found that there wasn’t a train due for another two days. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to sit around waiting, Heyes decided to buy a horse, and ride back. He was grateful to Lom for funding him so generously for the trip, understanding that it was his way of helping, where he couldn’t in other ways. After collecting his bags from the hotel, he returned to the livery, and bought a bay, mare from Johnson, who was concerned about a man of his standing, riding such a distance. Heyes assured him that he would be fine, that he still rode a bit, and Johnson had to agree, that, for a man of his years, he did seem very agile as he mounted the horse!

Heyes rode all afternoon, and into the evening, only stopping as the light began to fade. Once he had stopped, he stripped himself of his disguise, washing the powder from his hair, in a nearby stream. He felt his beard, considering that it was probably best to leave it, just in case Mr Denbury had to return to the penitentiary at some stage.

He made a fire, heated some coffee, and ate some of the provisions he had brought from town. Suddenly, he was struck with guilt, and the food stuck in his throat, as he thought of Kid and how thin he had become, and that he probably wasn’t having much of a meal that night. It was difficult to get the image of Kid’s face out of his head, the haunted look in his usually bright eyes, and Heyes’ frustration returned. He tossed his half, drunk coffee, from the cup, throwing it to the ground. As he lay on his bed roll, his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of his partner, and he stayed awake most of the night, trying to figure out what to do next.


*************************************************


It was a couple of mornings later when the sound of shouting woke Kid. He lay on his bunk for a moment, still clutching the napkin Heyes had given him, before folding it neatly and tucking it inside his shirt, comforted by the feeling of the smooth material next to his skin. It wasn’t long until his door was unlocked and he started the daily routine of prison life. First they went to eat breakfast, which fell well short of Kid’s idea of a good start to the day. Next came duty assignment. Kid was relieved that he was in the kitchens that day, it was hard work, but busy, helping the time pass faster.

The work group was escorted to the kitchens by Ferris, who, for once, didn’t say anything to Kid; he just walked along with a smug, self-satisfied look on his face.

As he entered the kitchen area, he scanned the faces of those with whom he’d be working. Most were new to him, and did not look the sort that you would choose to spend the day with, but then not many people in this place were. As the morning passed, Kid became increasingly aware that his four fellow workmates all seemed to know each other fairly well. His instincts were to keep his guard.

Kid spent most of the morning chopping vegetables, for the stew, which was to provide the prison with its midday meal. It was a monotonous task, but he was grateful for something to occupy his mind. After a couple of hours of endless preparation, Ferris told him to get another sack of potatoes from the store. As he entered the room, he was suddenly aware that someone had followed him into the dark, damp cellar. He turned to see Cobb and Travis, two of the other prisoners, standing in the doorway. From where he was standing, this didn’t look good. He thought about calling for the guard, but instinctively knew he wouldn’t come, and he didn’t want to incur another whipping, either, the throbbing of his back constantly reminding him of the one he has endured the other day.

Cobb stepped forward, while Travis stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. Kid hesitated, unsure of what to do next. He choose to ignore them, turning to collect the potatoes he’d been sent for. Before he realised what was happening, Cobb was behind him, pressing him to the wall, with a strong grip on his shoulders. Cobb leaned in close, breathing heavily in his ear.

“They weren’t lying when they said you was pretty, Curry.” he whispered in his ear.

Kid tensed, not knowing how to handle this situation, this was well beyond his experience. Cobb pressed himself against Kid’s backside, holding his wrists in a firm grip.

“Hear you’re really missing your partner.” he said, in a guttural voice, inching closer, his warm, putrid breath on Kid‘s neck.

Every part of Kid was screaming to fight back, but he wasn’t sure if he could take another whipping, not yet, and the thought of being beaten with chains terrified him. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying that this would stop, and he could be anywhere else.

He heard Travis move forward, and felt him coming up behind also, as he replaced Cobb’s hands on his wrists. He felt Cobb reach around to the front of his pants, laying his flat palm against his stomach, fingers reaching down below. Kid began to resist, fighting against both men, but his lack of food and physical well being, showed, and he did not have his usual strength. He felt tears of frustration rising within him, as he felt he was losing control of his life. He tensed his body against the physical invasion, gritting his teeth, as Cobb pressed himself harder into his back, pushing his hand further into Kid‘s pants.

The loud slamming of the door interrupted the moment, as Ferris, urgently shouted in, “Warden inspection of kitchen. Jump to it.”

As quickly as it had started, it stopped. Kid’s breath came in short, sharp rasps, of both relief and disbelief, at his good fortune. He tidied himself, and re-entered the main kitchen area without glancing at anyone else. Once the warden had finished his round, they were told to get ready to serve the meal to their fellow inmates.

While Kid stood, slopping stew into bowls, he once again he felt Cobb behind him, whispering “I’ll have you next time, pretty boy!”

Once the meal was finished, and the kitchen tidied, Kid was allowed to return to the sanctuary of his cell. As Ferris let him in, he said “Hope you weren’t too disappointed today. Don’t worry, I’ll see you another time.”

Once he heard the door lock, Kid took out the napkin that Heyes had given him, biting onto it, as his body trembled, fighting the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, before pressing his back against the wall. He let his body slowly slide down, and he crouched on the floor, hugging his knees.



****************************************************


Heyes had pushed his horse as fast as he dared. By the time he reached Porterville, the creature was on the brink of collapse, as was its rider. The livery man cast his eye over the horse as Heyes brought it in, and gave its rider a look of disdain. Heyes didn’t see it, his mind was elsewhere, as he marched directly to Lom’s office. There was a glow from a lamp shining through the window, in the evening gloom, and he entered, in a more composed manner than his last visit. Lom was seated at his desk, and, as Heyes came through the door, he received a sombre look from the Sheriff.

“Lom.” was all Heyes said, in way of greeting.

The sheriff merely nodded his head in response, and gestured towards the coffee pot, warming on the stove, before continuing with his paper work

Heyes stood in front of the sheriff‘s desk, ignoring the coffee that had been offered.

“You’re not talking, Lom. Guess you haven’t got any good news for me.”

Lom looked up at Heyes, and said “Sit down. You look ready to drop.”

Heyes did as he was instructed, linking his fingers together, resting his chin on them, and staring intently at Lom.

The sheriff did not meet his gaze, and fiddled with the papers on his desk. Heyes waited patiently and eventually Lom cleared his throat, and enquired, “How’s the Kid doing? I take it that you got to see him.”

“Oh! He’s having the time of his life!” Heyes answered, sarcasm dripping from every word, getting more concerned that Lom seemed to be trying to avoid telling him what the Governor had said.

Lom put the papers down, and looked directly at Heyes. “I knew you shouldn’t have gone to see him.”

He received an incredulous look from the man across the desk.

Lom knew this wasn‘t helping the situation, and that he just had to tell Heyes straight, so became more direct.

“The Governor’s not happy …”

“That makes at least three of us. “ Heyes interjected, in deliberate tone.

“Let me speak, Heyes. This ain’t easy for any of us …”

“Especially Kid.” Heyes spat back at him.

Lom took a breath, and tried again.

“You’ve got to understand the Governor’s position …”

Once again, Heyes’ frustration bore itself in a quick remark. “What about Kid’s position, Lom? You should see him. I barely recognised him. You have no idea what of the state he’s in, he ain’t going to last much longer in that place. We’ve got to get him out, no matter the cost,”

“How about your amnesty?” Lom said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Heyes replied.

Lom drew a deep breath in through his nose, and answered, “The Governor will see what he can do to get Kid out, but on the understanding that he cannot be seen to be giving you an amnesty. It would be political suicide. He sympathises with your position, and agrees that it’s unfortunate that this should happen, after you’ve been trying for so long, but the best he can offer, is that, if, and I repeat, if, he can get Kid out, then you have to give up hope of getting amnesty, and disappear to South America or somewhere, keeping a very low profile for a good, long while.”

Heyes sat subdued, for a moment, thinking through the implications of what Lom had just told him. Then said, “What do you mean ‘if’ he can get Kid out?”

“Heyes, you’ve got to understand. You and Kid are criminals; you broke the law, more than once. The Governor agreed to the amnesty deal, if you stayed out of trouble for the year …”

“We did that, Lom.” Heyes exclaimed.

“Yeah, I know, but the law was set, that if you were caught in the meantime, that you could both serve twenty years, each, for the crimes you committed and …”

“When are you going to tell me something I don’t know?”

“The Governor can’t just open the door, and let Kid walk out. There are procedures, and protocol to follow, and this isn’t a straight forward case of mistaken conviction. Kid is guilty of the crimes he’s been imprisoned for, and the Governor has some explaining and convincing to do, if he’s to get him out. I’m sorry, Heyes, that’s the best I can do at the moment. Try and be patient, it could take a little time.”

“We haven’t got a little time, Lom. Kid hasn’t got a little time. That place is killing him, don’t you understand?” Heyes was on his feet now, his voice becoming louder, and more aggressive.

“If you’d seen him, Lom …” Heyes started to say, a little more quietly, but he felt his voice breaking, so stopped himself from saying anything more.

Lom sat, passively, waiting for Heyes to finish, then he leaned forward, looking straight into Heyes’ eyes, and said, “We’ll get him out, Heyes, just let’s try it this way first. It would be a much better solution, for everyone.”

Heyes rubbed his face with his hands, suddenly feeling exhausted, and hungry. He picked up his hat, placing it on the back of his head, and turned towards the door, mumbling something about going to the hotel to get a room.

“One more thing, best you don’t go to the prison again. It’s way too risky.” Lom told him “For you and the Kid.”

Heyes paused for a moment, then left, without a further word, leaving Lom feeling remorseful.


*******************************************

Kid managed to avoid Cobb and Travis for the next few days, but felt like he was constantly being watched. He was tense, and nervous, the whole time, not even feeling safe in his own cell, aware that the guards had easy access to the keys, and Ferris had made it very clear, that he had singled Kid out for special treatment. Therefore, when Ferris came for him one morning, later in the week, Kid was filled with trepidation, as he was led down corridors, into an office. For a moment his heart lifted, hoping that it was another visit from Heyes.

Once inside the room he was told to stand and wait. After a couple of minutes, which were spent in silence, the door opened and another guard entered, instructing him to follow. Kid, nervously, did as he was told, not comprehending what was going on, hoping he wasn’t being taken to ‘that’ room again, although he could think of nothing he had done to warrant punishment.

Instead, he was taken through a door, and into an inner courtyard. Kid breathed in the fresh air, deeply, looking up at the expanse of blue sky above him. He paused for a moment, but, was quickly ushered forward again, by the guard, and through another door. It took a while for Kid’s eyes to readjust to the darkness, but when they did, he found himself in a long corridor, with doors, at intervals, on either side. Kid had learnt not to ask the guards’ questions, as often it led to a blow from a baton, but his anxiety made him ask, “Where are we?”

The guard simply said, “Solitary.”

Confusion filled Kid’s head. Surely, solitary was a form of punishment, and he had done nothing, that he was aware of, to cause him to be brought here?

“Why am I here?” he asked eventually. “I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong.”

“Orders from the Warden. Seems he wants you out of harms way.”

They stopped outside one of the doors, and the guard opened the door, indicating for Kid to enter, which he did so, uneasily. The door slammed behind him, and he stood in a room, not unlike his previous cell, apart from a slit of an opening, high up in the wall, that let in a crack of daylight. As he tried to figure out why he had been brought here, a thought came to him that horrified him. Perhaps the authorities had found out that Heyes was going to try and break him out, and he was here to make it impossible. Was it possible that Heyes had been captured too? Kid couldn’t bear to think of his partner, stuck in this hell hole as well.


He sat on his bunk, and automatically reached inside his shirt for the napkin Heyes had given him. Holding it tightly in his hands, he whispered to himself, “Please, no. Let Heyes be OK.”


Minutes dripped into hours, and hours ran into days, and the days slowly slipped passed, leaving Kid alone with his thoughts. He had no idea what was going on. No one talked to him, and although he tried to engage the guards, who passed his meals through a hatch in the door, in conversation, they would not respond. Apart from his daily trip to take care of his personal business, he remained in isolation. All he could do was pace inside the four walls, until he felt he was going totally crazy. He yearned for fresh air, and wide open spaces, and for someone to talk to, especially Heyes.

With nothing to do except think Kid’s thoughts wandered. He was getting really worried now, that something serious had happened to his partner, the desperation of not knowing, sending him to the brink of despair. There were days when he just lay on his bunk, staring at the slit of light, which gave a promise of the outside world, trying not to think at all, for fear of where it might lead.

He tried to keep track of the number of days that passed. He knew he had been in the main part of the prison for over a month, possibly nearer two, and now he reckoned he’d been in solitary for about four weeks. Just three months had gone by, but it seemed like a whole lifetime already, and he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could endure being kept in this place. His thoughts often turned to his partner, and if he was alive even, and if he was, whether he was having any success at trying to get him out, although he felt it wouldn’t be possible, even for Heyes. He just wished he could see him again, to give him some hope, and something to live for.


One afternoon, his cell door was opened, throwing Kid completely off his guard. He had become accustomed to the monotonous routine of his day and this change in pattern made him feel very uneasy. Following the guard down the corridor, as indicated, he wasn’t sure how he felt, as he didn’t know his destiny. He wondered whether he was being taken back to the main part of the prison, or he had another visitor or even something worse, that he dare not think about.

The door that opened, led him into a room, where a package was given to him which he was instructed to put the contents on. Having become so used to complying with prison rules and regulations, he did exactly as he was told. When he opened the bundle, he realised that they were his own clothes, and his mind began to race, trying to work out what this implied. Apprehensively he put them on, instantly feeling a little more human.

He was led to another door, which led into an office room, where a man sat at the desk, whilst another, with his back to Kid, was writing something. This man stood up, when finished, and enquired, “Was that all?” then turned to Kid, who was now able to see it was Lom Trevors. Kid stood, perplexed, for a moment, only half hearing the conversation being conducted around him, at a complete loss of what to say or do.

Lom stared at the man before him, not quite believing that this figure was Kid Curry. He obviously hadn’t been allowed to shave for quite some time, his clothes hung off his thin frame and his pallor was grey, with dark rings under his sunken eyes. Lom reached out his hand, in welcome, and Kid took it, but not with his usual confidence and firmness.

“Howdy, Lom.” Kid lifted his eyes upwards, to meet those of the Sheriff.

As Lom looked at Kid he found it hard to believe how different he looked. His usually clear, bright and piercing eyes were dull and lifeless. There seemed to be none of the fire and joy of life, which once burned there. Lost for words for a moment, Lom returned the greeting, with a nod of his head.

“He’s all yours now, Sheriff Trevors. Everything seems to be in order.” said the man behind the desk, offering Lom a piece of paper. The transaction completed, Lom placed a hand on Kid’s back and steered him out of the room.

The next thing Kid knew, he was outside, and about to get into a buggy. Without question, Kid followed Lom, climbed up onto the front of the buggy and sat alongside him, as he drove out through the gates of the penitentiary. This had all happened so quickly, Kid didn’t know what to say, but merely sat placidly trying to take in all that had happened in the last half an hour.

Eventually, the silence was broken, and Kid’s anxiety, and his need to know, made him simply say “Heyes?”

Lom tapped the horse forward with the reins, replying “Soon, Kid, soon.”

Kid rolled this over in his head. Soon what? That Lom was going to tell him that Heyes was hurt, or worse? Was he in that place? Had he agreed to go, instead of him? His head was in a complete spin when Lom suddenly pulled the horse off the main track, and stopped besides some trees.

Kid looked at Lom, uncertain what was happening, when, suddenly, there was a movement, from behind the trees, and a familiar figure, wearing a black hat, appeared on a horse. The figure swung himself off his horse and walked towards the buggy. Kid knew instantly who it was, and jumped down to greet him. Both stood for a second looking at each other, not quite believing this moment was happening. Heyes reached out first, putting his hand on Kid’s shoulder. Kid’s blue eyes looked deep into his partners’ dark ones, and then he stepped forward and took Heyes in an embrace that said more than any words. Heyes stood, unsure what to do, unused to such displays from his friend, but felt Kid trembling as he held him. The emotion of the moment took hold, and Heyes wrapped his arms around Kid. For a brief moment, Lom was given a glimpse to the real depth of this friendship, as both clung to each other.

“I thought something had happened to you.” Kid said eventually, taking a small step back from his partner.

Heyes stood looking at him intently. “They told me it would be best not to try and see you again. Wouldn’t even let me write.”

“Who’s ‘they’, Heyes?” Kid enquired.

“Lom, the Governor. If anyone found out I’d been to that place, it could have jeopardized everything. I just couldn‘t risk it.” Heyes answered.

“How did you manage to get me out?” Kid asked, casting his eyes downwards.

“Hey, plenty of time for talking, later. You know, you look a mess! Part of the agreement for your release is that we stay at Lom’s for a while. It’ll give you a chance to rest up and give us a chance to think about what we‘re going to do next, before we move on. How about we go back and get you a hot bath, and a decent meal?” Heyes asked, a soft smile on his face.

“Sounds good.” Kid replied, before getting back into the buggy while Heyes collected his horse, and they set off, back to the sanctuary of Lom’s cabin.


**************************************************


The journey should have only taken a couple of days, but Kid refused to go on a train, saying he’d been cooped up in a box for long enough. Heyes tried to reason with him, that he would probably find the journey by horseback exhausting, but Kid was adamant. He needed to see sky, and breathe fresh air, feel the earth beneath his feet, and the freedom of riding a horse.

Lom had to get back to Porterville, so they parted company. Heyes gave him his assurance that he would bring Kid straight to his place, and although Lom wasn’t happy about the arrangement, understood that this was important for Kid, to help him readjust to life in the outside world again and hopefully it would give Heyes a chance to talk to him about the deal.

They stayed in town long enough for Kid to get a bath and shave. In the mean time, Heyes bought him a horse and provisions for their journey. When they met up, outside the bath house, Kid was looking a lot more like his usual self, with a clean, shaven face, although, without a beard, his paleness and thinness was more apparent. Heyes was glad he’d had the fore thought to bring Kid a change of clothes, and his partner had been grateful to put them on, and that they didn’t smell of that place.

Heyes gave his partner an approving look and a reassuring smile, as he appeared on the boardwalk outside the bath house, before handing him a parcel.

“What’s this?” Kid enquired.

“Open it and see. Thought you might be needing it.” Heyes replied.

Kid unwrapped the brown paper and string parcel he had been given, to find a new holster and gun, almost identical to those that the sheriff in Little Creek had taken from him. He ran his hand across the leather of the belt and slowly pulled the gun from the holster. He held it in his hand, checking the weight and balance, giving it his professional appraisal.

“It’s a fine piece.” he said softly.

“Well, couldn’t have a partner of mine walking around naked now, could I?” answered Heyes.

Kid smiled at him before strapping the belt around his hips and tying it down to his leg. He drew the gun smoothly but with a lack of his usual speed.

“Feels good.” he murmured, as he spun the gun in his hand and eased it back into the holster. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Heyes said, with a grin.

“Feels right.” Kid said softly, has he rested his hand on the gun, fingers gently curling around its ivory handle.

Heyes looked at his partner for a moment, swallowing down a lump of emotion that rose in his throat, before saying, “Yeah, it sure does.”

They stood together, on the boardwalk for a short while longer, both lost in their own thoughts, until Heyes eventually enquired whether they should go eat, and get a drink, before they left. He noted that Kid’s eyes seemed to get little brighter, and more their usual blue colour, at this suggestion.

“And don’t forget you’re buying, Heyes. Last one to town buys supper, was what you said, and you have to admit, you were the last one to get there!”

Heyes looked over at Kid with a rush of guilt, expecting to see a look of reproach. Instead he was greeted with a reassuring smile, which he returned. It felt really good to have his partner back.

First they went to the café, and ordered steak. Kid had always had a voracious appetite, but Heyes was aware that Kid didn’t seem to be able to eat with his usual enthusiasm, and seemed to struggle to finish his meal, which surprised Heyes who had assumed Kid would eat enough for ten people.

Next they went to the saloon and ordered whiskey, downing three shots in quick succession. Heyes suggested that perhaps they should stay the night in the hotel, but Kid said he was keen to get started, having promised Lom that they wouldn’t be far behind. So, Kid started to leave, as Heyes finished his drink, and then both headed towards the livery. As they neared the building, Kid suddenly ducked down an alley, without a word to Heyes.

“Hey! What you doing?” Heyes called after him.

He followed him down the alley, and found him braced against the wall, by his hands, and throwing up all that he had just drunk and eaten.

“You OK?” Heyes asked, placing a hand on Kid’s back. Kid winced and pulled away from the touch, feeling embarrassed by his actions.

“Fine, just not used to eating, I guess.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood upright, still feeling nauseous. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he turned to resume the walk to the livery.
Heyes stood blocking the way, looking closely at him. Kid’s face had gone white, making the dark rings around his eyes look even more evident.

“You sure you’re up to this trip?” Heyes enquired.

“Quit fussing, Heyes. Compared to what’s happened in the last months, trust me, this is the easy bit.” Kid answered, with a return of the familiar look of stubbornness about his face.

Heyes was momentarily taken aback, then added “You want to talk about that sometime?”

“No!” was Kid’s sharp response, but on seeing the look of concern on Heyes’ face, added, “Not at the moment. Perhaps later, OK? Let‘s get going or it‘ll be dark before we get too far otherwise.”

Heyes followed his friend to the livery, noting the way he walked more stiffly than usual, without his assured swagger and ease of movement.

Fifteen minutes later they were on the road, headed for Porterville. Heyes rode behind, where he could keep an eye on Kid, making sure that the journey wasn’t too much for him. Kid knew he was watching, feeling Heyes’ gaze on his back. He felt weak and exhausted, and felt himself trembling, partly from the exertion, and partly from lack of food, as now he didn’t have anything in his stomach, but it felt good to be out in the open, riding the trail again. After a couple of hours, he conceded defeat, unable to ride any further. He reined in his horse; Heyes was instantly at his side.

“What’s wrong? You feeling alright?” he enquired.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just getting a bit tired, that’s all. How about we make camp for the night?” Kid replied.

“Sounds good to me.” Heyes agreed.

They found a suitable spot, and fell easily into their normal routine of setting up camp for the night. Heyes did note that Kid was a lot slower at seeing to the horses, and adjusted the swiftness at which he built the fire, and getting coffee onto to heat, to compensate for Kid’s lack of speed. Kid noticed, appreciatively, but said nothing. Finally, all the chores were completed, and they were able to sit down together by the fire. Heyes handed Kid a cup of steaming coffee, which he accepted gratefully.

Taking a sip, he smiled, looking over at his partner, and said “It must have been bad in that place; even your coffee tastes good!”

Instantly, Kid realised he had made a mistake, his remark having given Heyes the perfect opportunity to begin to question him about his time in the penitentiary.

“How bad was it in there, Kid?” Heyes asked softly.

Kid couldn’t look at him for a while, staring deep into the flames of the fire, wrapping his hands around the warm cup.

“Bad enough.” he said simply.

As Heyes looked at Kid he saw the torment and anguish reflected in his eyes at the memory and felt it would be unfair to push him further on the subject at this moment.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you out sooner, Kid. I would have swapped places with you if I could. I felt so useless, knowing that you were stuck in there, and, after I’d seen you, I knew we had to get you out. I just didn’t know how.”

“It’s OK, Heyes. I knew you’d do the best you could. There’s no need to be sorry, and I wouldn’t have let you swap places, wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, let alone my partner.” Kid reached out and touched Heyes lightly on the shoulder, before saying “How did you get me out?”

It was Heyes’ turn to regret starting this conversation now. He knew he had to tell Kid about the deal he’d made, he just wasn’t sure that now was the time to do it. But Kid looked at him expectantly, with those trusting eyes, which only Heyes ever saw, reminding him of when they were children, when Kid had followed him, unquestioningly. Sorrowfully Heyes thought that this was what had led to their present situation. If Kid hadn’t followed him into Devil’s Hole, become an outlaw and robbed trains and banks with him, they wouldn’t be here now.

Heyes took a sip from his coffee, swallowed it slowly, looked out into the darkness, and said “I made a deal with the Governor.”

“What deal?” Kid asked, looking at him intently.

The Governor’s deals were notoriously bad in his eyes, and the look on his partner’s face, in the light, reflecting off the fire, gave him a bad feeling.

“What deal, Heyes?” Kid persisted, his brow beginning to furrow.

Heyes took a deep breath. “The Governor agreed to release you, and move towards you getting a pardon, on condition, that I, as leader of The Devil’s Hole Gang, will never be granted amnesty, and that if he decides that it would become politically beneficial to him, I will give myself up.”

Heyes said this as quickly as possible, and waited for Kid’s response, refusing to meet his gaze. Kid, in turn, sat dumbfounded, and unable to speak, staring at him. This deal was worse than he’d feared.

Finally he said “You can’t do that, Heyes. I won’t let you. It was only because of you that we went for amnesty in the first place, and I always said you were more likely to get it than me.” Kid paused, shaking his head, trying to understand what Heyes had told him. He stood up, his temper suddenly flaring, with the realisation of what this implied. He would be a free man, but Heyes would be wanted - for the rest of his life, under the constant threat of imprisonment.

“He can’t do that. It just ain’t right!” he exploded, staring at his friend in the light of the fire.

“The deal’s done, Kid. There’s no going back. Signed and delivered, you might say.” Heyes responded, in a calm, even tone, bowing his head to hide the look of defeat, that he didn‘t want Kid to see.

“It ain‘t fair.” Kid shouted at Heyes, looking down at him.

“Haven’t you noticed, Kid, our whole lives ain’t fair?” Heyes still did not look at his partner, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the dancing flames of the fire.

“You’ve given up enough for me already, Heyes. You can’t do this. ”

“I can, and I have. It was the only sure way to get you out of that place. There’s nothing more to say.”

“Thought we were partners, Heyes? Don’t I get a say in this?” Kid shot back at him.

“No, you don’t. This is my decision.” Heyes answered, with finality in his voice. The amnesty was the one thing he had wanted more than anything else in his whole life, but he had wanted it equally as much for Kid. After seeing his partner in the penitentiary he knew he couldn’t leave him there, as it would kill him. If that’s what it would take, then he’d give it up to give Kid a chance at a better life. Heyes was still lost in his thoughts when he realised Kid was still talking to him.

“But it involves my life too. Hell, I don’t want you in that place any more than you wanted to see me there. Heyes? You even listening to me?”

Kid put his head in his hands, and rubbed his face. By now, he was feeling exhausted, and simply didn’t have the energy to argue any more. He wanted to push Heyes further, but was feeling at a loss for what to say on the subject, so sank down, next to him. Neither man spoke for a couple of minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.

In the end, Kid broke the silence. “Got anything to eat, Heyes?” he said instead, feeling Heyes’ discomfort and not wanting to argue with him on this, his first night of freedom. And besides, he was feeling hungry and needed to feel stronger to discuss this properly.

Heyes was taken aback for a moment, with the complete change of topic, but complied with Kid’s request, grateful not to have to talk about the deal with the Governor anymore, and set about preparing some beans for their supper.

Kid ate slowly, and cautiously, managing to clear over half a plateful, before settling down for the night. Heyes sat up, thinking through their conversation, knowing that it wouldn’t be the end of it. After a while, he looked over at Kid, finding some peace in seeing his friend sleeping so restfully, the strain of the past months’ ordeal absent from his face, for now. It was then that he noticed something in Kid’s hand, which looked like a piece of material. He looked closer, realising it was a piece of cloth, possibly a napkin. Kid grasped it in his hand, much like a child would a comfort blanket.

Heyes ran his fingers through his hair, muttering, “What the Hell did they do to you in there?”

Heyes sat watching Kid, and the fire, for a while, before his eyes finally became heavy and he began to doze off, but it was not an easy rest he fell into, the troubles of the last month or so, making him unable to fall deeply asleep. He was brought round to full consciousness by a shout. He instantly reached for his gun, unsure what had woken him.

The shout came again, and he realised that it was Kid, who was obviously dreaming. Heyes went to his partner, to wake him, and, as he approached, heard him saying “Let him go! Heyes!” as he tossed in his sleep.

“Hey! It’s OK, Kid. I’m here.” Heyes said, as he touched him on the shoulder. Kid was still lost in his dream, and was beginning to sweat, and fling his arms about, as if struggling against something, or someone. Heyes tried again, this time, louder and harder.

“Come on, Kid. Wake up!”

This time, at his touch, Kid’s eyes flew open, and settled on Heyes with a look of fear. He sat up, and began to back away, obviously still not yet fully awake. Heyes reached out to him, as reassurance, and was shocked when his hand was slapped away. Heyes backed off, and squatted in front of him, deciding to be patient, and let his friend come round in his own time. It took a few moments, and then Heyes saw Kid’s eyes focus on him, as he blinked himself awake.

“Heyes, you alright? You’re looking at me funny!”

Heyes let out a soft laugh and sat on the ground, replying “Yeah, I’m fine, now. How about you?” It was then that Heyes noticed that Kid was still clutching the napkin in his hand, and indicating to it, asked “What you planning to do with that?”

Kid looked perplexed for a moment, not understanding what he was talking about, then suddenly realised what he was holding. Looking a little sheepish, he cast his eyes downwards, fingering the fabric, then, without a word, stuffed it in his pocket.

“It’s nothing.” was all he said.

Heyes decided to let it go, just glad that Kid seemed alright now.

The sun was beginning to rise above the horizon, so Heyes set about getting the fire going, and making coffee. Kid sat quietly, for a while, lost in his thoughts. Slowly, parts of his dream came back to him, especially the bits when Ferris and Burns had hold of Heyes, laughing at him, lengths of chain swinging in their hands. Kid wiped his face with his hands, considering this and remembering the previous night’s conversation with his partner. This was one hell of a mess, and somehow he felt totally responsible. He wasn’t sure what he could do to make things right, but he knew he had to do something to get Heyes out of this deal, but for now, he wasn‘t sure what.

After breakfast, Heyes and Kid struck camp, got on their horses and headed on to Lom’s. Heyes noted that although Kid still looked thin and tired, the colour was returning to his face and he seemed a little stronger. As they rode along Heyes could see how Kid was savouring being back in open spaces, and, with every mile they travelled, became more relaxed, and so, by the time they reached the outskirts of Porterville, he much more resembled his old self.

It was late afternoon by the time they rode up to Lom’s cabin, and they were not surprised to find he wasn’t home, as he would still be working in town. They unsaddled their horses, and, while Kid turned them into a coral, and fed them, Heyes got the stove going in the cabin, and helped himself to some of Lom’s coffee. By the time Kid came in, it was good and hot. Heyes proffered a cup to his partner, who took it, leaning against the edge of a table.

“Guess we should wait a while to see if Lom gets back, before we get something to eat.” said Heyes.

“Yeah, probably should.” answered Kid, as he drained his coffee. “I’m going to wash up.” he added, walking out towards the well in Lom’s yard. Heyes took his coffee, and went to sit on the porch, enjoying the peace of the approaching evening. For the first time in quite a while, he felt relaxed. He watched as the lowering sun caused the distant mountains to cast dramatic shadows across the landscape as the evening drew in, silhouetted against a deep red sky. Drawing in the aroma of his now cooling coffee, he cast his look in Kid’s direction, as he stood, stripped to the waist, washing in the well’s bucket.

Heyes suddenly choked on his coffee, unsure of what he was seeing in the diminishing light, as he tried to make out the marks that covered his friend‘s torso. Patches of blue, grey and yellow covered Kid’s rib area, and, across his back, were dark red scars. Heyes, not believing what he could see, placed his coffee cup on the floor, got out of his seat, and made his way across the yard, to take a closer look at the marks on Kid’s body. As he got nearer, the reality was obvious. Without thinking, Heyes grabbed Kid’s arm, spinning him round to face him, and almost shouting “What the hell is this?” gesticulating at his body.

Kid, understandably was taken aback, and stood looking at Heyes in bewilderment. Then, realisation dawned and he knew his friend was referring to the evidence of the treatment he had received in the penitentiary, which covered his body. He took a moment to consider his answer, finally saying, “This is why you can never go to that place, Heyes.”

With that, he reached for his shirt, pulling it over his battered body. Heyes just stared at him, incredulously.

“God, Kid. You need to talk to me, let me know what happened to you.” he said eventually.

“Why, Heyes? What good would it do? What’s done is done. I’ll survive. It’s what we do best, ain’t it? All I know is that I don’t want it to happen to you, and that is why your deal with the Governor stinks and you ain’t gonna do it.” Kid responded.

Kid stood, buttoning his shirt, with the look of defiance Heyes knew so well. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, and turned away from Kid, feeling he couldn’t look at him, without betraying the anger and desperation that was welling up inside him.

Just at that moment, they heard a horse approaching, and both looked up, simultaneously, to see Lom.

“Howdy, boys.” he called, the relief of seeing them clear in his voice.

By now, Kid had finished buttoning his shirt and started to walk towards Lom, but Heyes caught his arm, and hissed, “We ain’t finished talking about this.” Kid merely yanked his arm free and continued to walk towards the sheriff.

Lom caught this action, sensing that all was not well between the friends, although he had suspected as much, when Heyes told Kid of his deal with the Governor. He guessed this topic had been discussed and proceeded with caution.

“Good to see you looking more like yourself, Kid.” he said in greeting. He shot a questioning look at Heyes, who tried to summon a reassuring smile, which turned more into a grimace on his face.

“You too, Lom.” Kid answered, extending his hand to the lawman, as he dismounted his horse. Lom took the hand, and Kid shook it firmly, and, without loosening his grip looked him straight in the eye, with the menace that came from many years’ experience of stand-offs in gunfights. The confrontation with Heyes had brought all Kid’s anger and frustration from the last few months to the surface. He had managed to keep it in check up until now, but his exchange of words with his partner had unleashed some of the emotions he had been struggling to control. He needed to vent his feelings and Lom had just stepped into his sights.


“I’d like to thank you for all you’ve done to help me,” here he paused, and then added more caustically, “and Heyes.” His hard, cold blue stare met Lom’s bewildered expression, before the sheriff shook his hand free, feeling decidedly uncomfortable, being at the receiving end of one of Kid‘s looks..

Lom did not appreciate being spoken to like this, after all he‘d done to help. “Listen, Kid. I tried my best.”

“For who, Lom? Certainly not for Heyes.” Kid replied.

Heyes stepped forward, recognising the look in his partner’s eye from past experience, and placed himself between the two men, facing Kid.

“Think we should all go get something to eat, and discuss this later.” He shot Kid a warning glance, a look that Kid had seen a few times before, which told him that Heyes did not want him to take this any further. Kid returned the look, but, due to the respect he had for him, he let it drop.

“Guess I could eat something.” he said, as he turned towards the cabin.

“He didn’t take it too good then?” Lom said to Heyes, when Kid was out of ear shot.

“Give him some time, Lom. He’ll come round, and understand why I had to do it. A hell of a lot more went on in that place than he’s letting on, so it’ll take him a while to cool down. Let’s just try and be patient.”

Heyes placed his hand on Lom’s shoulder, giving him a smile of reassurance, as they followed Kid into the cabin, hoping that things would remain calm for the rest of the evening.

Not much was said while they ate, Lom and Heyes made small talk, while Kid slowly ate his meal, moving more bits of food around his plate than he put in his mouth. Eventually he pushed his plate away, with most of the food still remaining. Lom raised his eyebrows, casting a look in Heyes’ direction, who shook his head slightly. Kid’s hearty appetite was often the cause of amusement to Heyes and Lom, and his lack of hunger was out of character, and was beginning to concern Heyes.

They sat at the table, drinking coffee for a while longer, until Heyes noticed Kid’s eyes closing, and the rings under his eyes darkening.

“Guess we ought to turn in. Where’d you want us, Lom?” Heyes asked.

“Will you be alright out here if I get some extra blankets?” Lom enquired.

Heyes assured him they would, and set out his and Kid’s bed rolls on the ground, near the fire, while Lom bid them both goodnight and retired to his own room.

Kid unbuckled his new gun belt , placing it carefully by the side of his bed roll. Next he pulled off his shirt and trousers, giving Heyes another opportunity to see the marks on his body. Heyes watched quietly for a moment and noticed Kid reach into a pocket, and pulling something out. Heyes recognised it as the napkin he had been holding the previous night at the camp. Kid caught Heyes watching him out of the corner of his eye and hesitated for a second, fingering the fabric, before throwing it into the fire, causing the flames to flare, illuminating the room briefly. Kid looked over at his partner, giving him a smile and crawled beneath his blanket. It felt good to have his long time friend and partner watching his back again.

“Night, Heyes.” he said softly.

“Night, Kid.” came the return, as Heyes, too, got into his own bed for the night, totally perplexed by what had just happened.


*******************************************************


Heyes and Kid continued to stay at Lom’s, for the next couple of weeks, to comply with the terms for Kid’s release. With each passing day, he became stronger, and slowly began to regain some of his usual appetite. While Lom went off to work, Kid and Heyes passed the days, looking after his place, doing repairs and daily chores. Kid had started to clean his gun regularly and practiced shooting most afternoons, which was a reassurance to Heyes, that his friend was feeling better.

For his part, Heyes read books, that Lom brought for him, borrowed from various friends. He also did a lot of thinking. He and Kid had never resumed their conversation about Heyes’ deal with the Governor. Personally, Heyes felt there was nothing more to say, or do, about the matter, but had started to think about the future. He had come to the conclusion that the only way for them both to have a life was to split up. If they stayed together there was always the chance that Kid would get involved, and hurt, or killed, should anyone try and capture him for the reward that would still be on his head. He also wanted Kid to have a chance at a proper life of his own, a wife, and children, perhaps, and this would not be possible if he was still riding with a wanted outlaw.

Heyes knew he would have to talk to Kid about what he had been thinking, but he didn’t quite know how, and the right time just never seemed to come. Kid also sensed that something was bothering his partner, and he knew it had something to do with the deal he had made, but he too was unwilling to broach the subject, afraid of what may be said. He often caught Heyes, just watching him, so deep in thought that he wasn’t even aware that Kid had seen him looking.

One warm afternoon they were splitting logs outside the barn. Kid had stripped off his shirt and was about to bring the axe down on a particularly large piece of wood when he caught Heyes looking at him again.

“Aw, for hecks sake, Heyes, I’d wish you’d tell me what’s on your mind. You’re beginning to spook me the way you keep looking at me!” he said, bringing the axe down to his side.

“Huh?” his partner said in surprise.

“Want to tell me what you’re thinking about?” asked Kid.

The truth was that Heyes had been thinking about many things, but at the moment Kid had spoken to him his attention had been on the marks on his friend’s back. Heyes hesitated for a moment, debating with himself whether this was the right time for this conversation. Kid looked at him with trust and anticipation.

Heyes drew a breath and said “I was wondering if you were ever going to tell me some of what happened in that place.”

Kid swallowed hard. He knew this would be coming sometime, just wasn’t expecting it now. He sighed, and rested the axe against a log, before walking over to a canteen hung on the barn wall. He took a long drink, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, replaced the top and turned to face Heyes.

Finally he said “The worst thing about being in there was being alone. All my life, Heyes, you’ve been there. I could have faced things if you’d been with me, but I was on my own with no-one to talk to or watch my back.” Kid dropped his eyes to the floor, and kicked a small stone absentmindedly.

Heyes remained silent, watching him intently, and waited. Kid walked over and sat on one of the logs they had been chopping, running his fingers through his hair. Heyes sat next to him, and Kid began to talk.

He began by telling him about the continual provocation from the guards and their constant verbal and physical taunts. He told Heyes about being beaten and soaked in freezing water, and he told him how he’d got the marks on his back and the threat of being thrashed with sticks and chains.

Heyes let him talk, all the while getting more and more enraged. He knew it had been bad for Kid, but couldn’t believe he’d had to endure so much at the hands of those bastards. What Kid told him made him want to go there with the best nitro he could lay his hands on and blow the whole place to kingdom come. It was always Heyes who was the leader in their partnership, but Kid had an inner strength that Heyes sometimes underestimated. He knew now that Kid was physically and mentally able to take care of himself in this world, and it was time he let go. Heyes just wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to let him go. He relied on that strength as much as Kid relied on his intelligence, to keep them both alive.

What Kid could not face telling Heyes about was the assault he had suffered at the hands of Cobb and Travis. Beatings were something that they knew and understood, from their time at the Home and as outlaws, but this was different. He wasn’t sure Heyes would be able to deal with it, and felt it would just make him real mad. There was a part of him that thought it may make Heyes feel differently towards him, and that was something he just couldn’t bear to happen.

Heyes sat silently next to his life long friend, not sure what to say to him. He sensed there was still something Kid wasn’t telling him, but let it go, for a while saying nothing. Eventually he said “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Kid leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and turned to look at Heyes. “You’ve always been there for me, and the thought of you, and what we’ve been through together, and will do, is what kept me going. You’ve no call to be sorry. You didn’t do those things to me.”

With that Kid rested his hand on his partner’s back and then said “Let’s get this wood chopped before Lom gets back, or he’ll be wondering what we’ve been doing all day.”

Heyes threw him a quick smile and they set about the task again, and with that the subject was closed, but both felt an even stronger bond between them, if that was possible.


************************************************


They had been at Lom’s for nearly four weeks, when he came home earlier than usual one day. Heyes was sitting on the porch, reading, and Kid was brushing down his horse, having just come back from a hunting trip. Lom got off his horse and tied it to the hitching post at the front of the cabin. He called Kid over, to join him and Heyes on the porch.

“Got some news for you.” he said, as Kid approached.

“Had a telegram from the Governor’s office today. He wants Kid to have a meeting with him at the end of the week. My guess is that he’s sorted out your pardon.” Lom told them.

Neither said anything at first, then Heyes said, “That’s great news, ain’t it, Kid?”

“You reckon?” Kid answered, before turning on his heels and returned to the task of brushing his horse, a little more vigorously this time.

“Thought he’d be pleased.” Lom muttered.

“Don’t think he’s too happy about the terms, Lom.”

“You had a chance to talk to him some more about that yet?” Lom enquired.

Heyes dropped his head, before saying, “No.”

“Don’t you think you should?”

“Probably.” came his short reply.

Lom felt exasperated, they just didn’t seem to be getting anywhere, neither of them prepared to confront the situation..

“You’ve got to get this sorted, Heyes.”

“I know, Lom. Just not sure how at the moment. Let’s take one thing at a time for now. When Kid officially gets his pardon, he might feel differently, and we can sort things out then, OK?”

The tone of Heyes’ voice told Lom that the conversation had come to an end.

“Want some coffee?” Heyes added, to stress his point, as he got up and went indoors.


********************************************


On the morning that Kid and Lom were to go to see the Governor, Heyes was up early. He hadn’t really managed to sleep much, and he suspected that it had been the same for Kid. With this day came the start of a new way of life for both of them, one that neither really wanted to happen, not under these conditions. There seemed no other choice as there was no way for Heyes to back down on the deal, without running the risk of Kid, or himself ending up in the penitentiary.

Heyes started to make coffee, and heard Kid stir behind him. He knew Kid was watching him, even though he had his back to him.

“Want some coffee?” he asked, without turning round.

“Sure.” Kid replied, and Heyes heard him get up, and begin to pull on his pants. When he was ready, Heyes handed him a steaming cup of coffee, which they sat drinking together, in companionable silence, until Lom joined them.

They spent the next hour packing and getting ready for the trip. Heyes was to stay behind, unsure of what the situation would be if he made an appearance. There was always the risk that he could be arrested, so it was mutually agreed that just Kid would go, with Lom.

When the time came for them to leave, Lom mounted his horse first, and sat waiting for Kid. He and Heyes both stood on the porch, Heyes looking at Kid reassuringly, while he cast his eyes to the floor.

“Good luck, partner.” Heyes said eventually, holding out his hand.

Kid raised his head to meet Heyes’ gaze, and took his hand. “This ain’t right, Heyes.”

“Yes it is.” his friend replied, placing his other hand on his shoulder. “You deserve a chance to be a fee man. It’s what we’ve been trying for, for so long, ain’t it?”

“That’s just it, Heyes. We tried together. You were the one who kept me trying. It just don’t seem right me going on my own.”

“We’d best get going.” Lom interjected.

Kid squeezed Heyes’ hand a little more firmly, then turned and mounted his own horse, and followed Lom down the trail, without daring to look back at his partner.

When they were out of sight, Heyes let out a big breath, sat down on the porch, and put his head in his hands.

“No, it’s not right, Kid.” he murmured.



********************************************


The journey to Cheyenne, where Lom and Kid were to meet the Governor, passed without incident. Lom had tried, more than once, to get Kid to talk about plans for the future, once he had his pardon. He had also tried to reassure him that he would look out for Heyes, and keep him out of trouble as best he could, but Kid continued be unresponsive to Lom’s questions, and suggestions, and, in the end, the sheriff gave up.

Once in Cheyenne, they registered at a hotel and prepared themselves for the meeting. Kid was reluctant to wear his grey suit, saying that way too much fuss was being made about the whole thing, but Lom was insistent. Once dressed, Lom gave him the once over, straightening his tie, and brushing fluff off his shoulders. A buggy had been arranged to take them to the Governor’s office, and the journey across town took about fifteen minutes. Lom was his usual, relaxed, self, having met the Governor several times before. Kid, however was tense, very tense, and fidgeted the whole way, until, in the end Lom had to tell him to sit still, as if he was a small child.

The buggy pulled up in front of a large, and imposing, house, and the door was opened by one of the Governor’s aids, who asked them to follow him. They were led down several corridors until they stopped outside a big, oak door, and were asked to wait, while the aid disappeared inside. A moment later he came out and opened the door wider, saying “The Governor will see you now.”

Lom placed a hand on Kid’s back and guided him into a room, extravagantly furnished, with numerous landscape paintings hanging on the wall. Behind a large desk sat a small, balding, man, who remained seated, as he continued to sign pieces of paper that were being placed in front of him, by a tall, skinny, man with a large nose. Kid and Lom stood in front of the desk and waited.

When the last bit of paper had been signed, the seated man put down his pen and looked up at the men who stood before him. He rested his elbows on the desk, interlinking his fingers, and rested his gaze on Kid.

“So, this is Kid Curry, is it Sheriff Trevors?”

“Yes, sir.” Lom replied.

“Can’t say you look much like I imagined you.” the Governor directed at Kid.

Kid stood, hands clasped in front of him, not knowing how to respond. What was he supposed to look like?

“No, Sir.” was all he could think to say.

“Must have been pretty tough, in the penitentiary, for you I imagine?”

“Yes, Sir.” Kid answered.

“Can’t want to ever go back there, is that right, son?” asked the Governor.

“No, Sir.” Kid responded.

The aid at his side handed the Governor another piece of paper, which he proffered to Kid.

“It took some doing, but here it is. Here’s your pardon, Mr Curry. Make sure you value it and use it wisely.”

The Governor waited for Kid to take it, so that he could resume the business of the day.

Kid continued to stand with his hands clasped in front of him. Finally he said, “I don’t want it, Sir. The price is too high.”

Lom looked at Kid with disbelief. He had jumped through proverbial hoops to make this meeting happen, and here was Kid, throwing it back in the Governor’s face.

The Governor too, had a look of astonishment on his face.

Kid swallowed hard, and then put on his most convivial smile, before saying, “My partner Hannibal Heyes deserves this more than me. It don’t feel right, me taking it, in the circumstances. So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll pass, Sir.”

“Don’t you want to be a free man, Mr Curry?” asked the Governor.

“More than anything, Sir … but not without the man who has been at my side my whole life. He’s given up so much for me, that I can never really repay him. I’ve thought about this a lot, and if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take my chances with him.”

“Do you want to go back to prison?” questioned the Governor.

“No, Sir. I don’t ever want to go back there, and I wouldn’t want my partner to go there either. That‘s why I can‘t agree with the deal he made with you.”

“What’s to stop me having you arrested here and now?” the Governor continued, his face flushing with annoyance.

“Nothing, Sir.” Kid replied politely. “And if that’s your wish, ain’t nothing much I can do about it.”

The Governor pondered this for a moment, while Lom stared at Kid, his mouth gaping.

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you, Mr Curry. Since you’ve chosen to come here of your own free will, I am going to revoke your pardon, and you and your partner, Hannibal Heyes, will be wanted men again. If, however, you can stay out of trouble for a further year, I will consider, with no guarantee, mind, the possibility of considering amnesty for you both again.”

A wide smile spread across Kid’s face. “Thank you, sir.” he said simply.

He and Lom were then shown out of the office, retraced their steps back down the corridors, into the waiting buggy that would take them back to their hotel.

Lom was speechless, and all he could do was look at Kid with a look of incredulity. It wasn’t until they were back in the hotel, in Kid’s room, that Lom chose to speak.

“Have you gone completely crazy? Do you realise what you just did?” he shouted at Kid.

“Calm down, Lom. I know exactly what I did. I gave me and Heyes another chance, together. In fact it worked out a lot better than I expected.”

Lom shot him another look, before saying, “I need a drink. You coming?”

“Yeah, sure, Lom. I feel like celebrating.”


******************************************************


While he waited for Kid and Lom to come back, Heyes spent his time considering his options. He thought of just leaving, giving Kid the chance to start his new life as a free man, without having to worry about him, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed to see Kid, to explain, talk with him and finalise their separation. He felt he owed him that.

He had decided that his best option was to head south, to Santa Marta, perhaps, at first. Kid could come and spend some time with him, he thought, until he realised that would only slow down the split that they needed to make. This was going to be even harder than he had first thought.

It was early evening, nearly a week after they had set out, that Lom and Kid returned to the cabin. During the last day of travel, Kid had become increasingly uneasy, suspecting that Heyes would not have waited for him, and simply moved on. Kid knew this man better than anyone else in the world. He was therefore, both delighted, and surprised to see Heyes’ horse still in the coral on their arrival.

Heyes strolled nonchalantly out of the cabin on hearing their horses. He had anticipated their return and had set about preparing a meal. When Kid saw him on the porch, he gave him a wide smile.

“Welcome back.” Heyes called. “How’s it feel to be a free man?”

Lom drew his horse alongside Kid’s, shooting him a sideways glance, and said “You going to tell him or am I?”

“Tell me what?” Heyes asked.

Kid continued to sit quietly on his horse, arms crossed on the horn of his saddle. Lom meanwhile dismounted, and tied his horse to the hitching post.

He looked over at Kid, then back at Heyes.

“He turned the Governor down, said he didn’t want the pardon on those terms. You’re back to square one. You’re both wanted men again.” Lom’s exasperation at the last few days’ events erupted, as he elbowed his way past Heyes, into the cabin, almost shouting that he needed a drink.

Heyes stood, uncomprehendingly for a while, his mouth open.

“What’s he talking about, Kid?” he said in the end.

Kid slowly got off his horse, and walked towards his partner, stopping right in front of him.

“I told the Governor I didn’t want the pardon on his terms. I thought for a moment he was going to get me arrested right there and then, but he didn’t. Sorry, but it looks like we‘re wanted men, on the run again.”

Heyes continued to stare at Kid, a look of amazement on his face, until Kid said “Close your mouth, Heyes, or you’ll be swallowing flies.”

Heyes immediately snapped his mouth shut, his mind in a whirl.

“I’m real hungry and something smells good.” said Kid. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“Just what have you done?” Heyes asked Kid as he followed him into the cabin.

“I’ve got us both a second chance, Heyes.” Kid said, as he hung up his hat and jacket before moving to wash up, leaving Heyes staring after him with a look of bewilderment. He shot a questioning look in Lom’s direction, who was standing with a large whiskey in his hand.

“Don’t ask me - no one ever tells me anything!” was Lom’s response before he drained his glass.



***************************************


A few days later, Heyes and Kid rode together, across a mountain ridge, looking out over a prairie, where the breeze stirred the grass, making it look like an expanse of sea. Kid breathed in deeply, taking in the view, enjoying the freedom the landscape offered.

Heyes pulled his horse to a stop, and dismounted, walking to the edge of the ridge. Kid followed his example, and strolled over to him.

As he came alongside his partner, he rested his hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Heyes!”

“What for?” Heyes replied, turning to face him, a note of concern in his voice.

Kid looked out across the prairie and then said “Hell, everything! Getting caught, getting us into such a mess, losing the amnesty.”

“You didn’t lose the amnesty. I don’t think the Governor ever really intended to give it to us.” Heyes paused for a moment, before adding, “Why’d you do it, Kid? Give up your chance at a pardon?” This was the first opportunity he felt he had to get a proper answer from the reticent Kid.

“You’ve always been there for me, Heyes, even when we were kids, watching out for me, watching my back. When you were leader of the Devil’s Hole, one of our rules was that you never left a man behind. I wasn’t going to leave my partner behind, not for any reason.”

This was some speech for Kid, even under normal circumstances.

“I appreciate it, Kid. Even though I think you’re crazy.” Heyes told him. They stood silently, each contemplating what lay ahead of them now. Presently Heyes said “Well, we’ve got the rest of our lives ahead of us. What’ll we do first? Rob a train or a bank?”

Kid turned in disbelief to look at Heyes, only to be greeted with an impish grin, punctuated with deep dimples.

“It’s another day, Kid. There’ll be another posse, no doubt.”

“Just do me one favour, Heyes.” asked Kid.

“What’s that?” his partner answered.

“Let’s not split up next time!”

With an understanding look passing between them, they laughed and remounted their horses, setting off to their unknown futures, together.



*****************************************************

end