Jed Curry sat in the sheriff’s office with a grim expression on his face. He had known he was in trouble as soon as he saw the look on the lawman’s face. Now he sat boxed in with only one way out. Without showing any indication as to what he intended to do, he slowly lowered his right hand.

“I fold,” he said, as he laid his cards flat on the table.

Sheriff Jack Caldwell let out a loud hoot, as he leaned over to rake in the pot—eight dollars and fifty cents. Neither man was a high stakes gambler, but both were highly competitive and had found a good sparring partner in the other. That each man would have thought the other the least likely of companions only a year before was also true.

Back then, Jack Caldwell had made no secret of the fact that he did not approve of two notorious outlaws being granted amnesty, nor did he make it a secret that he did not welcome them as residents in his town.

Jed Curry, for his part, had shown no interest in changing the other man’s mind. He had been in a melancholy mood after suffering an injury to his leg that had left him with a profound limp and in almost constant pain.

All of that had changed a year ago when the two had become reluctant partners in catching a horse thief who had tried to frame Curry and seduce his young daughter. In the end, Caldwell had been the one to shoot the thief and save Curry’s life. Although almost ten years his junior, Jack Caldwell had gained Curry’s respect and trust for his handling of the matter, and Caldwell had developed a deep admiration and respect for the man Jed Curry had proven himself to be. Since then, the unlikely friendship had developed.

“When do Mr. and Mrs. Heyes get back?” Caldwell asked, casually, as he dealt the next hand.

“Next week,” Curry replied, picking up his cards. “I sure will be glad when they get back. They deserved some time to themselves though.”

“How have you and Clay been managing out there by yourselves?”

“We’ve been taking care of the place just fine. I hardly give my leg a second thought these days--good as new.”

Caldwell smiled and nodded, though he knew that was not quite true.

“So you gonna be doin’ the saddle breaking yourself this year then?” Caldwell asked, with raised eyebrows.

That very question had been the subject of a heated debate between Curry and his partner just before Heyes had left.

“Why not?” Curry challenged.

“Oh, I don’t know, just thought that since your place is doing so well now, you could afford to hire someone else to do that.”

“Clay and I can manage. Plus, now that school’s out Heyes and Charlotte will be spending most of their time out at the ranch. And you know that Catherine will be arriving on Friday. Having a young man around while Catherine was here didn’t exactly work out very well last year. I don’t plan to make that mistake again,” Curry grimaced at the memory.

“Well, not all young men are scoundrels like that Jeremiah Wilde turned out to be. And uh, maybe Catherine will have other men to think about besides ranch hands.”

Curry’s eyes narrowed, as he stared at the man across the table. “Just what is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve been meaning to tell you, but, Catherine and I have been corresponding some.”

“Corresponding?”

“Well, yeah, I wrote her a letter about a month after she left. You know, just to let her know everything here was back to normal. Then she wrote me back and…well…we’ve been corresponding.”

“She never mentioned that in any of the letters she wrote to me!” Curry exclaimed.

“Oh, well…we thought we wouldn’t bother you with that unless…well unless things got serious.”

“Are you telling me that things are serious between you and my daughter? She’s only seventeen!”

“Well, Jed, a lot of women get married at seventeen—even at sixteen.”

Curry stood and stared down at the younger man. “Married? Now you’re talking about you and her getting married?”

“Well,” the sheriff drawled. “I didn’t exactly say that. Just…well, it’s a possibility.”

Curry inhaled deeply, fixing his eyes on Caldwell. “I’m gonna need some time to let this sink in,” he said quietly. “I’d best be getting on back out to the ranch. I’ll think on what you’ve just told me. See you next week, Jack.”

“See ya, Jed.” Caldwell looked down nervously, wondering if he should have waited until Catherine arrived to tell Curry about his feelings.

Seeing the younger man’s discomfort, Curry hid a smile. He’d let Jack worry a while…but if Catherine was going to get married, there was no one he’d be happier to see her with.

Before Curry made it to the door, he was surprised by the sudden arrival of Ed Mathers, the new deputy sheriff. The man rushed straight to Caldwell and handed him a small piece of paper. ‘Urgent telegram,’ Curry observed, waiting near the door to see what the trouble was.

Caldwell frowned and reread the telegram before looking up. “Train robbery,” he said finally and sat down. Curry waited a minute for him to say more, but the sheriff remained silent.

“That’s it? A train robbery? That’s not exactly unheard of in these parts,” Curry commented, wondering why Caldwell had gone Pierce as a sheet when he read the telegram.

The lawman flashed the reformed outlaw a dark look. “It’s the way this gang does it.”

“What do you mean?”

“They don’t blow safes or steal payrolls. They rob the passengers—they seem to know when a few particularly wealthy passengers are on board.”

“Okay, so who are these guys?” Curry asked, still not sure what made this so unusual.

“Nobody knows,” Caldwell said, dryly.

“Well, what do the passengers have to say?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, they must have something to say.”

“They don’t say anything because the gang shoots everyone in the cars they rob, anybody who sees them,” Caldwell’s eyes met Curry’s.

“My God,” Curry breathed, softly. “How many?”

“This train? Fourteen.” They’ve hit a few others further south in Colorado and Utah. This one was hit about twenty miles from here on the Utah boarder.”

“You mean they’re going around stopping trains and massacring the passengers and nobody has any idea who they are?”

“That’s about it.”

“Why haven’t I heard about this?” Curry demanded.

“The railroads have been trying to keep it quiet. They don’t want to create a panic.”

“You mean they don’t want people to stop buying train tickets,” Curry observed, wryly.
“Look, I know you don’t think much of the railroads, but they’re doing their best.”

“How much reward are they offering?”

“Nothing yet. Besides, they don’t have any descriptions to put on posters.”

“Hmph, I wonder how motivated they really are. It’s not their money these guys are taking.”

“That’s not fair, Jed.”

“No? Back when we were robbing trains, the railroads put out a reward of ten thousand dollars on Heyes and me, dead or alive, and we never killed anyone on any of their trains. We just took their money.”

“Well, you have to admit, you took quite a lot of their money.”

“I can’t believe you’re comparing what we did to a massacre like this train job!”

“Whoa, slow down, Jed. There’s no comparison here. These crimes are brutal; brutal and senseless. They didn’t even spare the women and children. I don’t understand how anyone can do a thing like that.”

“Well, some men just have that in ‘em,” Curry said, as a distant and haunted look came over his face. “I gotta go.”

“Jed, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up…” Caldwell started to go after him, but the other man didn’t look back as he continued walking out of the office. “Damn,” he muttered, going back to his desk, remembering the story he’d been told of how Curry lost his family.


000000000


The small ranch house stood quiet in the early morning light. A pile of wood lay neatly stacked on one side, and the nearby corral was in good repair. Jed Curry sat on the porch and looked out over the landscape that he and Heyes had turned into a damn fine horse ranch. It had taken them some time; a few years to establish their stock, and equally long to gain the trust and respect of the other ranchers. It turned out that Heyes had an instinct for breeding lines and they were beginning to get a reputation for the quality of their stock.

Curry’s attention abruptly turned to the main entrance to the property; the sound of horses approaching brought a concerned frown to his face. Heyes wasn’t due home until the next day and he wasn’t expecting any regular visitors. The former outlaw stood and faced the riders as they got closer. Even before they reined their horses to a stop in front of the porch, he knew what they were—lawmen. He didn’t know their names or who they worked for, but he could guess their profession from a mile away.

“Good morning. We’re looking for Mr. Curry.” The man in the center spoke with the authoritative air of a man who was used to being in charge.

“What’s your business?” Curry asked, his body tensing involuntarily as he noticed a silver star on the man’s chest.

“You Curry?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “We want to talk to you about a train robbery that occurred a few days ago,” the man replied.

Curry snorted a disdainful laugh. “A train gets robbed in the territory of Wyoming and you ride all the way out here to my ranch to ask me about it? I’m not in that business anymore, in case you haven’t heard.”

“Oh, we heard about you and Heyes receiving your amnesty alright, and we heard about you two laying low here for the last few years.”

Curry clenched and unclenched his fists and let out a slow breath before speaking.

“I don’t like your attitude, Marshal,” Curry said, looking into the man’s face. “I’m a law abiding citizen now and you’re on my property; so you’d better explain what right you have to come here accusing me of something.”

“We’re not accusing you of anything, Mr. Curry,” one of the other men spoke up, his soothing tone an obvious attempt to calm the suddenly tense situation. “We’d just like to ask you a few questions. We’d like your help.”

“My help?” Curry asked, incredulously. “I’m not in that business either. I’m a rancher. I raise horses. If you want to buy some good reliable mounts, then I might be able to help you.”

Curry studied the marshal’s two companions. Both were dressed in suits and weren’t wearing badges. Detectives of some sort, he surmised.

“I don’t think you understand, and maybe we got off on the wrong foot here,” the third man suggested, with a quick glance at the marshal next to him. “Would you mind if we came inside and talked?”

Curry nodded slowly. “Suit yourself. You can tie your horses up over by the corral. I’ll make some fresh coffee.” He retreated into the ranch house, leaving the men to tend to their horses.

“Well, what is this all about?” Curry asked, after the three visitors were finally seated inside.

A dark haired man in a gray suit spoke first. “Let me introduce myself. My name is William Jennings, chief detective for Midwest Railroad. This is my associate, Mr. Blackburn.” Jennings looked young, maybe mid twenties, but he had a confident air of a man who was used to giving orders. Blackburn was slightly older, a shorter stockier man with reddish hair and a ruddy complexion.

“Didn’t know Midwest had its own detectives,” Curry observed, glaring at the men seated in his living room. After all this time, how can these guys still make me so uncomfortable?

“The Bannerman Agency didn’t seem to be able to get the job done,” Blackburn replied, his eyes never leaving Curry’s face.

“And what about you? Have you got any leads to this gang that’s been robbing your trains and killing the passengers?

“As a matter of fact we do. We know where they’re hiding out,” Jennings interjected.

“Well, then do your job. Go arrest them,” Curry said, curtly, with a glance at the marshal who had remained silent during the exchange.

“That’s what we’re trying to do, Mr. Curry. That’s why we’re here,” the marshal said, coldly.

Curry stared in disbelief at the three men. “I thought we already covered this. You can’t possibly think…”

“No, Mr. Curry, we don’t think you robbed the train, but we think you can help us capture the men who did,” Blackburn said quietly.

“We have reason to believe that this gang is using Devil’s Hole as their hideout,” the marshal supplied the last bit of information with an accusing glare.

“We’d like you to lead a posse into Devil’s Hole,” Jennings added.

Curry’s eyes widened, unable to hide his shock. “You gotta be kidding,” he laughed. “Now I know I can’t help you, even if I wanted to. There’s no way a group of riders can get close to that place without being seen. They’d pick us off one by one and we’d never see a soul. There’s no way,” Curry declared.

“We think some of your old gang may be riding with this bunch, or at least know who they are,” Jennings continued.

“Not likely,” Curry argued. “No one who rode with me and Heyes would be a part of a thing like this. Besides, almost all of the boys are either dead or in prison by now.” The last part wasn’t quite true, but these detectives didn’t need to know that.

“Well, somebody showed them how to get in there, now didn’t they?” Blackburn raised his eyebrows and waited for Curry’s response.

“There are plenty of people over the years who knew how to get into Devil’s Hole; men that only rode on one or two jobs, or hid out there for a time.”

“You can get us in, Mr. Curry. Whoever’s in there probably knows you and you could convince them to let us in,” Jennings said, hopefully.

“I said no. It won’t work. That gang isn’t going to let anybody in there. It would be suicide for anyone to try. I think this conversation is over.” Curry rose to escort his guests to the door.

The men stood, reluctantly. “We’ll be in touch. Come on, Bill,” Blackburn said, gesturing to the other man.

“Don’t count on it,” Curry replied, as he ushered the three men to the door.


Chapter Two


“Do you know what they asked me to do?” Curry demanded, leaning closer to Sheriff Caldwell. “Do you know why they came to see me?

The two men were standing in Caldwell’s office and the sheriff instinctively took a step backward, as he slowly shook his head. “No, Jed. All they told me was that they thought you could help with the investigation. I figured you’d want to.”

Curry’s anger seemed to slip away as he sighed and sank down into the chair next to the sheriff’s desk. “Yeah, well…they didn’t know what they were asking,” he muttered quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

“What did they ask?” Caldwell pressed, sitting down at his desk opposite the former outlaw.

“You don’t know?”

“No, I just told you. They only said that you might be able to help them catch the thieves.”

“They asked me to lead a posse into Devil’s Hole, like they were asking me to lead a parade down Main Street or something.”

“Devil’s Hole?” Caldwell’s jaw dropped. “The gang is at Devil’s Hole?”

“That’s what they seem to think,” Curry sighed.

“Well…can you? I mean—tell them how to get there at least?”

Curry returned the man’s question with a discouraging look. “Why do you think the law has never raided Devil’s Hole? It would suicide to try and ride in there with a posse. The lookouts can see riders approaching for miles. There are plenty of places to sit and wait until you have a good shot—then just pick ‘em off one by one, like ducks in a shooting gallery.”

“Then I don’t understand what they thought you could do about it.” Caldwell looked genuinely confused.

“Don’t you get it? They figure they’d let me in ‘cause I’m still one of ‘em. Once an outlaw, always an outlaw, and maybe some of my old gang is even riding with this new bunch.”

Understanding finally dawned in the sheriff’s eyes. He’d had similar thoughts about the two pardoned outlaws when they first settled down in his town, but had changed his mind after getting to know them. “Oh…” he commented, quietly.

“Even if I wanted to help, there’s no way they’d let me ride in there uninvited. They probably wouldn’t even recognize me, and I know that none of the old bunch would be a part of something like this. And even if they did recognize me, at least one of them would have to have heard we’d gone straight and be suspicious from the get-go. It would be too risky.”

“Isn’t there any way the law can get in? Some back way?” Caldwell wondered aloud.

“No,” Curry shook his head firmly. “That was why it was so perfect. Only one way in.” He smiled a little remembering how many times that had saved them.

“What do you think Heyes will have to say about this?” Caldwell asked.

“Heyes? He’s spent the last ten years trying to earn a good reputation, he’s not going to be very happy about this new bunch digging up the name of the Devil’s Hole gang—and connecting it with murder—the one thing we always managed to avoid.”

“What this gang is doing won’t reflect on you two.”

“You sure about that?” Curry sounded unconvinced. “People have long memories when it comes to stuff like this.”

“I suppose you might be right. But not with the people who know you. Catherine…”

“Catherine,” Curry looked up suddenly, realizing he hadn’t even considered her until now. “She’s due to arrive in three days. She and her family are stopping over in Laramie for a few days. Are the detectives still in town?”

“They’re staying at the hotel. Seems they want to talk to Heyes before they leave.”

“Hmph, well with any luck maybe they’ll leave before Catherine and the Wainwrights get here.”

“Yeah, the Wainwrights,” Caldwell repeated, hesitantly.

Curry eyed the sheriff. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothin’. It’s just that…I’m a little nervous about meeting Catherine’s mother,” Caldwell admitted, uneasily.

Curry grinned. "Eliza? Oh, you’ll like her. She’s…she’s real easy to talk to. Joseph too, real nice guy. I think they were surprised when Catherine said she might want to move here. I guess they figured they should come and check it out. Maybe check you out too?” His grin broadened as he watched Caldwell squirm a bit in his seat.

“Oh, now Jed, you know I’m strictly on the up and up,” Caldwell said, nervously.

“Yeah, I know,” Curry said reassuringly. The other man let out the breath he’d been holding. “Like I said, I just need a little time to let it sink in,” he added as he picked up his hat and headed out the door.


000000000


Jed Curry was sitting in the saloon having a beer and brooding over the conversation about the new gang when Jack Caldwell rushed through the swinging doors. The sheriff headed straight for him and Curry knew immediately that something was wrong.

“Jed,” the man breathed, almost fearfully, “when are the Wainwrights due to arrive in Laramie?”

“Last night,” the older man replied.

“What train were they on?”

“I’m not sure. They were coming from Denver, I think. Why?” he asked, frowning, concern edging into his voice.

“Another train was hit. The Denver Express to Laramie.”

Curry felt the blood drain from his face. “When?”

Caldwell couldn’t meet Curry’s eyes when he answered. “Yesterday afternoon…a few miles out of town.”

The beer curdled in Curry’s stomach. “How many dead?”

“I don’t know yet. The sheriff in Laramie just sent out the first report.” Looking up, he finally met the other man’s eyes and was afraid at the emotions he saw reflected in them. Hastily, he said, “It might not be the same train.”

“But it might.” Curry said, tightly. “I’m not sitting around here waiting to find out.” Taking a final long pull on his beer, he wiped his mouth nervously and said, “Tell Heyes where I went.”

“You can’t ride all the way to Laramie,” Caldwell exclaimed. “Wait until we know for sure. Or at least, wait for Heyes.”

“Never been much good at waiting around. I’ll take an extra horse,” he was already heading for the door as he said it.

“Jed, if…anything has happened,” the other man called out, “don’t do anything you’ll regret. Let the law handle this.”

“If anything has happened,” Curry replied, grimly, “the law won’t be able to stop me.”

His face was set with a hard determination that Caldwell had only seen once before; when they had found out that the young man Catherine had fallen for was a thief and a killer. Curry had shown restraint then, but everything had turned out okay and Catherine had been safe. Caldwell had begun to have his own feelings for Catherine, and right now he wasn’t sure what he would do himself if any harm came to her.

Curry paused at the door, and then turned back around. “Don’t tell anyone else that Catherine may have been on that train—even those Midwest detectives.”

“Why not? They might be able to help,” Caldwell said, surprised by the request.

“If I have to go after that gang, I don’t want them to know I’m coming…or why.”

“But, you can trust the railroad…” Caldwell began.

Curry’s face registered disgust before he replied. “I trust you, Jack. Now trust me on this one.”

Caldwell nodded slowly. “Alright, but you can’t go after that gang alone.”

“I can—if I have to,” was all the former outlaw said before storming out of the saloon, leaving the doors swinging behind him.

Caldwell stared after him for a few minutes and then slumped down onto a barstool and closed his eyes. Please don’t let Catherine be dead…he prayed.


000000000


Hannibal Heyes sat back in his seat with his arm draped casually over his wife’s shoulder and looked out the train window at the scenery as it changed to the familiar Wyoming landscape that he was accustomed to.

“Happy to be home?” he asked as he gently squeezed her shoulder.

“Oh yes!" A teasing look came over her face. “Thank heavens all that honeymoon nonsense is over!"

"We-ell," drawled Heyes, "I put it off as long as I could..."

Heyes and Charlotte Grey had married last fall but had waited until spring, when school ended, to go away for their honeymoon.

"All that togetherness and constant love-making," Charlotte pulled a mock-wry face and gave an exaggerated shudder, "Ugh! I'll be glad to get back to work.”

Heyes smiled, he knew how much teaching meant to his wife. He had to put his silver tongue to the test in order to help her keep the position. Ordinarily, a married woman did not qualify for the job, but Heyes had shown the members of the school board the error of their ways. Six balding town officials really hadn’t been much of a match.
"Me too," teased back Heyes. “On the love making front," he mimicked her shudder, "glad we got that out of the way, now we can get on as an old married couple.”

"Certainly not!" declared Charlotte, firmly. She continued in her schoolmarm tone, "I've told you before, Hannibal Heyes, you will repeat the exercise until you get it right!"

Heyes grinned.

“It was lovely in Connecticut, though,” she said, a hint of wistfulness turning her voice dreamy.

“Yes, Hartford was beautiful. So many interesting people. And I still can’t believe that we had dinner with Samuel Clemens.” Heyes chuckled, “the Kid had that one pegged as an alias right from the start…Mark Twain…”

“It was amazing,” his wife agreed.

"Meeting Samuel Clemens, that will certainly be something to tell our grandchildren," remarked Heyes. He saw a shadow pass over his wife's face. He knew she was disappointed that after nine months of marriage there was still no baby on the way. He also knew that she believed, at thirty six years of age, she might never conceive.

"It's just a figure of speech,” he said, gently.

“No, it’s not. You’d like to have children…you should,” she said, sadly.

“Hey," he said, taking her hand, "If a baby comes along—wonderful, if not, then you can continue teaching. I know how much that means to you.”

She hesitated, “Yes, but that doesn’t give you a child.”

“You’re all I need to be happy. More than I ever expected, in my wildest dreams.”

"More than you deserve, too!" Charlotte replied, once again flashing a bright smile.

"Much more!" he agreed. He brought her hand to his lips, dropped a kiss on the palm.

They sat in silence for a few moments, smiling into each others eyes.

"And of course, we have Catherine," Heyes added. He thought of the young girl who had become like a daughter to him. “She’ll be in Pine Bluffs in a couple of days ...”

"You’ve really missed her, haven’t you?” Charlotte observed.

“Well, sure,” he grinned.

“I’m so glad Eliza and Joseph are coming to visit. I’m looking forward to meeting them,” she commented, lightly.

“Yeah…they’re nice people,” he said without missing a beat, but Charlotte noticed the apprehension that passed briefly in front of his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked, knowing something about the visit was causing her husband concern.

“Well, it’s just that--I think the Kid still has feelings for Eliza and…no matter how hard he tries to hide it, I know it’s hard for him to be around her.”

“Oh, I see. I thought it might be something like that,” she nodded solemnly. “I wish things had worked out between Jed and Emma. She would have been good for him.”

“Yeah, that would have been nice,” he said, thoughtfully. “He didn’t seem too upset when that banker from Cheyenne proposed and she accepted though. I don’t know what he was waiting for. He finally had a chance to settle down with a wife and he let it pass by,” Heyes shook his head absently.

“Well, I’m glad you made your move when you saw your opportunity,” Charlotte gave her husband a flirtatious smile. Her earlier melancholy mood was quickly being replaced with a more playful one.

“Mrs. Heyes, behave yourself, we’re in public,” he answered with feigned embarrassment.

“How much longer until we’re home?” she asked in a conspiratorial tone.

“’Bout a half hour before we reach the station,” he answered quietly.

“Hmm. We could stop over at the house in town before riding out to the ranch,” she suggested.

“Mrs. Heyes, I like the way you think.” He leaned over to give his wife a kiss on the cheek, letting his lips lightly brush across her face before arriving at her ear which he began to nibble gently.

“If you keep that up, Mr. Heyes, you may just have to stop this train,” Charlotte said, with a slight shudder.

“I can arrange that,” Heyes promised; his voice low and husky.

“I bet you can,” Charlotte giggled as she pulled away, giving her husband a teasing glare.

The remainder of the train ride passed uneventfully and the newlyweds were in good spirits when the train pulled into the station.

“I thought Jed said he was going to meet us here,” Charlotte commented. She looked up and down the street, searching the crowd that was waiting to meet family and friends arriving on the train for the familiar face.

“He did. He’s probably just having a drink or playing cards with Caldwell,” Heyes said, with some irritation showing in his voice. “Probably lost track of time.

“Well, if he said he’d be here, then he will," Charlotte proclaimed confidently, knowing it would take a near tragedy to keep Jed Curry from keeping a promise to his partner.

“Hey, Jack!” Heyes called suddenly, seeing the town sheriff striding toward them. “The Kid was supposed to meet us. You don’t have him locked up, do you?” The grin on his face faded slightly when he took in the look on the sheriff’s face. “Jack, what’s wrong?” he asked, cautiously. “Where’s the Kid?”


Chapter Three


The ride into Laramie took two days. It would have taken most riders another day, but taking a second horse had allowed him to travel faster and with fewer breaks. Curry knew riding into town smothered in trail dust, he must look a bedraggled drifter. At that moment however, his appearance was the least of his concerns. As soon as he entered the business district, he could tell that the town was in a state of shock. The usual sights of townsfolk shopping, children playing, and businessmen going about their routine had been replaced by clusters of men talking in hushed voices and others staring from behind window panes.

Laramie was a large town. Curry wondered briefly how long it would take him to learn the news that he had ridden through the night to obtain. His eyes scanned the painted signs along the storefronts and came to rest on one ominous placard—the undertaking parlor. Slower now, still in the saddle but walking his animal, he neared the building. A group of men gathered on the boardwalk in front of the building looked up as he approached. Realizing they were eyeing him suspiciously, he sat up straighter in the saddle and introduced himself.

“Good morning. My name’s Jones. I’m looking for some information about the train robbery.” He was surprised at the ease with which the old alias flowed off his tongue. He wasn’t exactly sure when he’d made the decision to use it but somehow he knew the name ‘Kid Curry’ would not be very welcome in a town reeling from a recent train robbery; especially a robbery whose perpetrators were being linked to Devil’s Hole.

“What kinda information?” a short balding man stepped out from the group to ask. “Are you from some newspaper? We don’t want none of that.”

“No, I’m not. I’m—I had family due in from Denver, the night of the robbery. I’m here to see if they arrived safely. They were only passing through; do you have any passengers from the train staying at one of your hotels?”

“Oh,” the man said, hesitantly. “There was only one train from Denver that night and most of the passengers were returning home, here to Laramie. What are their names?”

“Wainwright,” Kid said, hopefully. “A man and wife, traveling with two children; an older daughter and an infant.”

“Most of the passengers that were just passing through left this morning on the stage. Don’t recall seeing a baby though.” The man scratched his head thoughtfully.

“You could try over at the hospital. I think there’s a baby over there. Wasn’t in the car that was attacked though,” another man spoke up. “The young mother’s so upset she won’t even speak.”

That didn’t sound like Eliza. She could hardly be described as ‘young’ at her age, and with a grown daughter. Kid paused, giving the undertaking parlor a long look.

“They still got the bodies in there. They’re not all identified yet,” one of the other men in the group suggested in a hushed voice, following the visitor’s gaze.

“Are they all in there?”

“Yep, all still there,” the man replied, dully. “I can take your animals over to the livery if you want.”

“Thanks,” Kid nodded his gratitude for the man’s kindness as he dismounted.

Stepping through the door, he felt a cold chill and the immediate presence of death. “Hello?” he called, his voice oddly subdued.

“Be right with you,” a brusque voice sounded from a back room. A grim faced, middle-aged man stepped into the outer office. “What can I do for you?”

“I, um, had some relatives traveling on that train,” Kid stammered, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten even more than it had when he’d entered the town.

“Oh,” the undertaker said, solemnly, his countenance changing to one of professional sympathy. “Right this way. I’m afraid I’m just not set up to handle something like this and the pressure is starting to get to me,” he said, as if to explain his less-then cordial greeting earlier. “We don’t have a passenger list to work from, and since most of the dead were from out of town, we’re having a hard time getting this straightened out,” he continued fretfully as he led the way down a long hallway and into a room where several tables stood. White linens were draped over what were obviously the bodies of the passengers. Several tables held two bodies side by side.

Looking around the room, Kid resisted the urge to cry out and begin ripping the linens off of the bodies in a desperate search.

“I just don’t have the capacity for something like this,” the undertaker apologized again. “You said you are a relative?”

He hesitated and drew a slow breath. He really didn’t want to go into the long story, so instead he opted for a vague lie. “Yes, cousin—my cousin and his family were on their way here from Denver. Joseph and Eliza Wainwright.”

“Can you give me a description? That might be faster.”

“Uh, Joseph is um, about forty, about five-ten, thinning hair…” Curry broke off as a lump formed in his throat. Recognition had shown in the undertaker’s eyes as he moved to one of the tables and stood at one end. At Curry’s nod, he slowly rolled the linen down to reveal the face.

Curry sucked in a breath as he ran a dirty hand through his hair. Wordlessly, he nodded. The face of Joseph Wainwright would have appeared almost peaceful—were it not for the bullet hole in his forehead.

“And Mrs. Wainwright?” the older man asked, gently.

“Long dark hair, green eyes, she’s thirty-six. And, their daughter…she’s…she’s seventeen, long blonde hair…” He braced himself for what he was sure would be the most difficult ordeal he had ever faced. The thought of twenty years in prison hadn’t scared him as much as the thought of seeing his daughter on one of these tables.

The undertaker moved to the next table and repeated the process of slowly rolling back the linen covering.

Curry stared as a face emerged. Long blonde hair and a youthful face; too young to have life taken away so violently.

He closed his eyes and breathed a silent prayer of thanks. Slowly he shook his head, “No.”

The man nodded and moved to the next table. Again, he revealed a face, this time a woman that Curry was sure had been pretty and full of life before her final train ride.

“No,” Curry said again, a strange mixture of sadness and profound relief coursing through his body.

The undertaker gave him a perplexed look. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “Sometimes, when a person is dead…”

“No, I know what they look like. Show me the rest.”

“There is only one other woman, and she’s a bit older than you’ve indicated.”

“Show me,” Curry said, firmly. “I have to be sure.”

The final female victim appeared to be a woman in her late fifties, with long gray hair.

“That’s it? You said all the other passengers were locals?” Curry stared at the other man with a look that demanded an answer.

“No, I said most of the dead were from out of town.”

Curry’s mind was reeling. “A man out there on the street said that the out of town passengers left this morning. Eliza wouldn’t have gone and left her husband unidentified—hell, he wouldn’t be ‘unidentified’ if she had been here at all!”

“Please, sir, try and calm down,” the other man seemed oddly unaffected by the outburst.

“Calm down? My—family was on that train and I’m not going to calm down until I find them!”

“Why don’t you try over at the hospital? There was another passenger in the car attacked by the gang. I’m not sure if she’s still alive—they brought her here at first with the others, but there were some signs of life so I had her taken over to the hospital.”

At the look on his visitor’s face, the undertaker shook his head slowly. “Don’t get your hopes up; I don’t think she has any chance of surviving. In fact, if I had to speculate, I’d guess that she’s already passed on.”

“Which way is the hospital?”

“Big brick building two blocks over, on the corner. You’ll see it.”

Curry spun around and raced out of the room.

“Wait! What about arrangements for your cousin?” the undertaker called after him just before he heard the outer door slam shut. “Some people have no manners,” he mumbled, as he returned to his office to write down the name of the recently identified passenger.


000000000


The young woman sitting at the desk near the front door of the hospital looked up, startled by Curry’s abrupt entrance. Her eyes traveled from his hat to his boots, taking in his disheveled appearance and dirt that covered his clothes and face. She scowled before speaking.

“Sir, this is a hospital, not a stable. If you plan to visit one of our patients, you’d best clean up first.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but I’ve been riding for two days and I don’t know if my daughter is alive or dead.”

The look on the traveler’s face softened the heart of the young woman and she stood and walked around the desk to put her hand on the man’s shoulder.

“What does your daughter look like?” she asked, gently.

“She’s seventeen, pretty, light colored hair,” he stammered. “I’m looking for her mother too.”

“Sir, come this way, please.” She led the way down a short hallway. “I’m not sure I have very good news for you, but if the woman that was brought here is your wife, well then at least you’ll be able to stop wondering.”

Her words confused him at first, but then he realized that of course she would have made the assumption that this woman would be his wife.

The young nurse opened a door to a stark looking room with a single bed. Another slightly older woman sat by the side of the bed, watching over the patient.

“Oh, no…God, no…” Curry stammered at the sight of Eliza lying still and pale looking against the white sheets. Her head was thickly bandaged with white cloth and she looked more like one of the corpses he had just seen at the undertaker’s than the vibrant woman he remembered.

“I’m sorry, we don’t think it will be much longer now.” The older woman spoke softly and gave him a sympathetic look.

“You could be wrong. She’s still alive. Isn’t there hope as long as she’s alive?” Curry asked, his voice sounding desperate.

“No, if you had seen the damage to—no, I’m sorry,” the young woman shook her head slowly.

“Are there any others?” he asked after a few moments.

“There is a young woman who fits the description that you just gave of your daughter. But…she wasn’t in the car that was robbed so we didn’t connect her to your wife. In fact, she has a baby so we thought--”

If Catherine had her baby brother with her she could have easily been mistaken for the infant’s mother, it all made sense. “Where is she?” he demanded, interrupting the woman’s explanation. He began to feel lighter at the thought that Catherine had somehow avoided the slaughter in the railroad car.

“She’s down the hall. We just didn’t know what to do with her,” the nurse gave him an apologetic look.

Curry stared at the young woman for a moment. “What do you mean?” he asked in confusion. “You said she wasn’t in the car that was attacked.”

“Please, come with me,” she told him as she headed back up the hallway, stopping beside another closed door.

After the rush to reach Laramie, Curry found himself hesitant to open the door. Finally, the nurse stepped in front of him and opened it for him.

At first glance, Curry let out the breath he’d been holding, relieved to find Catherine alive and well. As he stepped into the room however, he realized that something was not right. His daughter sat in a chair in the corner of the room, but she hadn’t even glanced at him when he entered.

“Catherine? Honey?” he called out, but she showed no signs of hearing him. He covered the distance in three long strides and knelt down beside her. “Catherine, can you hear me?” he asked again, this time grasping the girl’s shoulder and giving her a gentle shake.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked, looking back toward the nurse who had remained in the doorway. “Is she hurt?”

“Not physically, no. You might want to speak to one of the doctors.”

“If she’s not hurt, why is she just sitting here like this? Can’t she hear me?” he asked, looking at Catherine’s eyes which stared unfocused across the room.

“When they first brought her here, your daughter was very protective of the baby. She wouldn’t let anyone else come near. We knew he was getting hungry. She wouldn't feed him. She screamed and fought when we took him, but—we needed to do something. Since then—she has been as you see her now. She hasn’t spoken, or acknowledged anyone’s presence.”

Curry stared at his daughter, his heart breaking for her and desperate to make sense of the events that had caused her condition.

“Are you sure she wasn’t in the train car that was robbed?”

“No, we don’t think so, but she may have witnessed some of the attacks. The other passengers found her hiding with the baby in the car adjacent to the one with the victims. You can speak with the doctor in the morning, but for now, maybe you should focus on your grandson?”
“My what? I don’t have a—oh, you mean the baby, he’s not my grandson.”

The young nurse looked slightly confused. “Then, who does he belong to?”

“Eliza Wainwright.”

The young nurse looked even more confused, “Then, he’s your son?”

“No,” Curry said, impatiently. “Catherine is my daughter, but her mother, the woman in the other room, is…was married to someone else. He was killed in the robbery.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, with a disapproving frown. From the look on her face, Curry was sure that she didn’t see at all. “I was hoping we’d found someone to look after the boy. We really aren’t able to continue to care for him here…”

“Can’t you just look after him a little longer? Maybe tomorrow Catherine will snap out of this, or Eliza…"

“I’m sorry, Mr.?”

“Oh, uh, Jones,” Curry answered, vaguely.

“Well, Mr. Jones, why don’t you get a room over at the hotel, and I’ll tell the doctors that you’ll be in to see them tomorrow.”

“I should stay with her. She’s alone…” Curry said, giving his daughter a long look.

“We’re looking after her and doing all we can. You should really get some rest so you don’t take ill yourself.” The young woman gave him sympathetic look.

“Alright, but please send someone to get me if there is any change, in either of them?”

“Of course, Mr. Jones.”


Chapter Four


Jed Curry awoke with a start, realizing he’d slept longer than he’d intended to. The sun was already up when he parted the window curtains and looked out onto the street. He dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. A quick scan of the ground floor restaurant revealed several groups of patrons sitting at the small tables. His desire to arrive at the hospital early to speak with the doctor drove all thoughts of breakfast from his mind.

Hurrying out of the hotel, Kid was surprised to see a stagecoach pull in across the street. He was even more surprised when the door swung open and Heyes and Charlotte stepped out.

Charlotte saw him immediately and rushed over, throwing her arms around him and holding him in a tight embrace. Heyes gave him a quick glance, before settling his fee with the driver.

“What are you two doing here?” Curry stammered, after Heyes had joined them “And how did you get here so soon? I didn’t know stagecoaches traveled at night.”

“They do if you pay them enough,” Heyes said, matter-of-factly. “Jack filled us in on what happened, at least as much as he knew. Do you think there’s any place else we’d be?”

Both Heyes and Charlotte were looking anxiously at Kid, waiting for him to tell them what he’d found out.

“Catherine’s alive,” he told them, “and so is Eliza, but—they don’t expect her to make it.”

“Oh, Jed, I’m so sorry,” Charlotte said, softly, reaching out to lay her hand on his arm.

“Where is Catherine?” Heyes asked.

“She’s over at the hospital.”

“Is she hurt?” Charlotte asked, quickly.

“No, not really—I’m not sure. She hasn’t spoken.”

Heyes looked away briefly so his cousin wouldn’t see the grief in his eyes. He remembered reactions like that from his childhood, when so many had been senselessly murdered during the war. “She saw it happen,” he said, solemnly, more of a statement than question.

“They said she was hiding in a different car, but…she must have seen something, or…” Kid’s voice trailed off.

“If she just found the bodies afterward, would that be enough to cause her condition?” Charlotte asked.

“Maybe,” Heyes said, his voice unconvincing. “Everyone had better think that, or she could be in even more danger.”

Kid looked up and the sudden realization showed on his face. “I hadn’t even thought of that. If she was actually a witness…”

“Let’s just take her home. The sooner we get her away from here the better,” Heyes said, quietly.

“I can’t leave now, not with Eliza still in the hospital. I have to get over there; the doctor is in this morning.”

“We’ll come with you,” Charlotte said, without hesitation.

“No,” Curry said, abruptly, leaving Charlotte momentarily speechless.

“But why?” She asked, confused.

Curry threw his partner a furtive glance.

“Look, sweetheart, let’s go get a room at the hotel. Jed’ll tell us how Catherine is when he gets back.”

“No, I want to see Catherine and I can’t think of one good reason why I shouldn’t, so if you have something to say, you’d better tell me now,” Charlotte said, decisively, standing her ground.

“I don’t want to cause a big stir over there. I…I don’t want the folks here to know who I am.”

Understanding settled in Charlotte’s eyes. “You’re afraid they’ll think you were one of the train robbers.”

“I just didn’t think the name ‘Curry’ would be very well received when everyone is thinking that this gang is hiding out in Devil’s Hole,” Kid said, his voice sounding tired and resigned. “I told them my name was Jones.”

A look that Charlotte didn’t quite understand passed between the two men, and then she remembered the aliases they had told her they’d used years ago.

“We need to keep our identities—and Catherine’s—out of the newspapers.”

“I already thought of that. I told Jack not to tell anyone in Pine Bluff that Catherine and her family might have been on the train,” Heyes assured his partner.

“I’m going with you to the hospital,” Charlotte said, firmly.

The partners exchanged a glance. Hadn't Charlotte been listening?

“Look, if you want the hospital staff to release Catherine to you, in her condition, it will look better if your dear ‘wife’ is along. Otherwise, the doctors might suspect you of being a member of the gang out to eliminate the only eye witness. I’ll be Mrs. Jones.” Charlotte walked to Curry’s side and took his arm, leaving Heyes staring at her in surprise.

“Alright, you may have a point, we’ll be back in a while,” Kid said, after a moment.

“Okay,” Heyes said, with a nod. “That does make sense. I guess I don’t have a problem with you borrowing my wife for a while—as long as it’s only temporary. I’ll just poke around a little; see what I can find out. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

Kid headed out toward the hospital with Heyes’ wife at his side.

When they entered the hospital, Charlotte was suddenly apprehensive about seeing Catherine. She clung to Jed’s arm as they were ushered back to Catherine’s room. It was dark.

“The doctor will see you in a few minutes,” the young nurse informed them, as she went to the window to draw the curtains.

“Catherine? Honey, Charlotte’s here,” Kid stepped hesitantly to Catherine’s side, allowing Charlotte to approach her.

“Everything’s going to be fine, we’re here dear. We’ll take you home with us and you’ll be fine.” Charlotte placed her hand gently on the girl’s shoulder. At the touch, Catherine flinched, but her eyes continued to stare across the room.

Curry looked up as the doctor entered the room. The man, who introduced himself as Dr. Carter, was a middle-aged man with dark hair, graying at the temples.

“I’m glad to see that this young lady has some family in the area, I was beginning to worry about who was going to look after her,” the doctor said, kindly.

“Doctor, are you sure those men didn’t hurt her, she seems…” Charlotte looked, worriedly, down at the silent girl.

“No, we’ve given her a complete examination. I can assure you that she was not physically injured.”

“Then why doesn’t she recognize us? Why won’t she talk? What are you doing for her, just leaving her here alone in a dark room?” Curry was feeling helpless and anger was beginning to take over.

“Please, Mr. uh…Jones,” the doctor said, after glancing at the name that had been written on the file he carried. “This is a medical hospital; there is nothing that we can do for her here. There are asylums that are better equipped to deal with your daughter’s…condition. My nurse can give you a list—“

“Don’t bother, I’m not sending her to any asylum. We’re taking her out of here.”

“Well, Mr. Jones, I can certainly understand your desire to care for your daughter yourself.” He met Kid's eyes, “Perhaps, with familiar surroundings, she’ll return to her right state. And now, I understand that you’d like to discuss her mother’s condition as well?”

“That’s right,” Curry snapped.

Dr. Carter led the way to the next room, where Eliza lay under the watch of another young nurse. The Doctor's manner was professional, his voice void of emotion. "The bullet entered her head—here..." A deft finger indicated a point on the coldly white bandage, "We removed the bullet, but too much damage had already been done. The best we can hope for is a quick, rather than a prolonged death.”

“Someone needs to take care of her. There will need to be…arrangements,” Kid said, his eyes lingering on the woman lying across the room.

“We’ll take care of her for as long as she remains in this state, and then…I’ll contact you if you’d like. Are there any other relatives? Of hers, I mean?”

“Uh, her parents might still be alive, but I don’t think she’s spoken to them in a long time. I’m not sure how to contact them.”

Dr. Carter frowned, disapprovingly. “Well, you might want to try,” he said, as he got up to leave the room.

“Doctor,” Kid began, “isn’t there…any hope at all?”

“For Mrs. Wainwright? No, I’m sorry; her injury was just too severe.” The doctor shook his head sympathetically. “Then, there is the matter of the baby,” he mumbled, as he walked toward the door.

“What?” Kid questioned.

“Well, I was just wondering about the baby. If his sister was well, I would presume she’d take the baby with her, but that doesn’t appear to be an option at the moment. If Mr. and Mrs. Wainwright have no relatives, then I thought—perhaps you?”

“We can’t take the baby,” Kid said, quickly.

“Why not?” Charlotte asked softly, “I’m sure Catherine will want her little brother with her as soon as she’s better.”

“Charlotte, a baby is a lot of work. And you’ll have your hands full taking care of Catherine. I can’t ask you to take all of that on.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. And besides, you’ll be there too, won’t you?”

"There's something I have to do," he replied, grimly.

He strode purposefully outside and headed for the hotel. Charlotte furrowed her brow and hurried after him.

Heyes was standing on the boardwalk, out in front of the hotel, when the two returned. He slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulders and looked over at his partner. “How’d it go?”

“We’re taking her home.” A determined look settled onto Curry's face. “I’ve made up my mind. As soon as we’re back in Pine Bluffs I’m going to find those railroad detectives and tell them I’ll help them bring in this gang.”

“No you won’t.”

“Heyes, you can’t talk me out of it.”

“I mean you won’t have to wait until we’re back home—they’re right here in town. Those two railroad detectives, Jennings and Blackburn, they stopped me almost as soon as I left the hotel.”

“They did? How did they know you?”

“I’m not sure, I suppose they could have a description—or even a photograph by now. But don’t worry, they understand why it’s important that no one know we have a connection to some of the victims.”

“Do they still want us to take them to Devil’s Hole?”

“Yeah that’s about it.”

“What’d you tell ‘em?”

“I told them I had nothing to say until after I’d spoken to you.”

Curry glanced at Charlotte, who’d been standing silently, listening to the two men’s exchange. She was staring incredulously at her husband.

“You can’t seriously be considering…?” she stammered.

"We need a few moments alone," he told Kid quietly, taking his wife’s arm and leading her toward the door. “I’ll meet you downstairs in a little while,” he called to his partner as they entered the hotel.

Kid stood watching as the couple went inside. His own jaw set firmly, he slowly shook his head. ‘I didn’t mean to involve you in this Heyes.’ Even as the thought entered his mind, he knew that there was nothing he could do to change that now.

The conversation in the hotel room began as a heated discussion.

“I can’t let this thing go and not do something about it. Catherine and the Wainwrights, they’re family. The Kid and I can get these guys—stop them. We may be the only ones who can,” Heyes said, firmly.

“You’re not lawmen, why not let the law go after them?” Charlotte was equally firm in her response.

“The law,” Heyes scoffed, “was never as good as we were.” He met her eyes, “I don't want to leave you, but..."

“Then don’t,” she said, defiantly. “Let the law do their job. Going after that gang isn’t going to undo what’s happened.”

“Charlotte, I didn’t ask you to stop being who you were, to give up teaching,” his voice raising a notch in volume.

“That is hardly the same thing. I’m not going to get myself killed teaching a classroom full of children.”

“You knew when you married me that something might happen, something like—”

“Something like an outlaw or gunman out for revenge, not something like this. Not your choice. You’re throwing away everything we have here, all of our dreams and plans.”

“I’m not throwing anything away, and this isn’t my choice. I didn’t start it but I’m going to finish it.”

“Do you mean when you’ve killed them?” Charlotte’s voice cracked slightly.

“Not necessarily, we’ll let the law do that part if we can, but we are going to find them and see that justice is carried out.” He paused, and then added “I’ll be back when it’s over.”

Charlotte gave her husband a long hard look. “There’s nothing I can say that will change your mind, is there?”

Heyes shook his head slowly. “I have to do this.”

The conversation in the hotel room ended in silence.

Heyes turned quietly and walked out.


Chapter Five


An hour after leaving Kid Curry downstairs at the hotel, Heyes found him in the local saloon. “Looks like you’ve had a couple of those already,” Heyes said, indicating the empty glasses in front of Curry.

“I thought you were only going to be a few minutes.”

“Well, I had a little thinking to do. Did you find the men from Midwest?

Curry nodded. “I told them I’d be over to see them tonight.”

“We’ll be over to see them,” Heyes clarified.

“You don’t have to do this, Heyes.”

“You don’t think I’m gonna let you do this thing by yourself, do you?”

“It wasn’t your family that got murdered.”

Heyes didn’t bother arguing the point that Eliza had been married to another man or that Eliza and Joseph weren’t exactly his family either. Catherine was his daughter and that made them family to the Kid. He knew how Kid still felt about Eliza and it grieved him to see his partner having to face the loss of another loved one.

“I love Catherine too, you know. And what about what that gang is doing out there? People are starting to call them the “New” Devil’s Hole Gang and they still think of Heyes and Curry when they say it. It’s only a matter of time before folks start thinking of us as murderers. Besides, we both know there’s only one way to get into Devil’s Hole and get the trust of that gang.”

Curry stared at his partner, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t think they’d take me in without you?”

“I think the only way they’ll let either of us in is if they think we’ve gone back to outlawing and you can’t do that by yourself.”

Curry’s jaw dropped. “What is that supposed to mean? You don’t think I can rob somebody without you?”

“I don’t think you can pull off a ‘Hannibal Heyes’ plan without me and that’s what you’re gonna need to take down that gang. We’re partners, Kid, always have been, nothing changes that.”

Curry gave him a wary look. “What makes you think the railroad detectives will go along with your plan?”

Heyes gave his partner a confident grin. “Because it’s the only plan that’ll work.”

The two men each finished another shot of whiskey before they headed out onto the street—Curry going to check in at the hospital and Heyes making a visit to the telegraph office.

The hospital was strangely quiet when Kid walked through the front door. Not finding anyone in the front entry, he hurried toward the patient rooms. On rounding the corner, he met Charlotte coming down the hall. Her face told him all he needed to know.

She came to him and embraced him. “I’m so sorry, Jed,” she said, softly. “They came to tell you at the hotel and I didn’t know where to find you.”

“Thank you Charlotte,” he said, sincerely. “Give me a few minutes, will ya?”

“Of course.”

Eliza still lay in the bed, looking more peaceful than she had that morning. Jed sat down next to her and took her hand in his. Charlotte blinked back a tear and looked away. Not wanting to intrude on a private moment, she stood in the doorway and waited. Jed was speaking softly, but she could still hear his words.

“I’m so sorry, Eliza. So sorry about everything. You deserved better than me, I hope you found it. I hope you were happy. I promise I’ll take care of Catherine and I promise you I’ll get the men that did this. I promise you they’ll pay.”

Charlotte looked back at the scene in the room; she swallowed hard as the tears she’d been holding back began to flow freely. She waited while Jed said goodbye and then followed him back down the street to their hotel.

Early that evening, Kid and Heyes met Jennings and Blackburn in the detectives’ hotel room.

“We’ll help you find them, but we going to do it our way,” Heyes said, as soon as the group was seated.

“A posse would never make it into Devil’s Hole, there are too many lookout spots for a rifleman to sit and pick off the riders,” Curry told them. “The only way is for us to go in and bring them out into the open.”

Jennings nodded his agreement. “That seems reasonable. How soon can you leave?”

“It’s not that simple,” Curry said, glancing over at his partner. “We’ve been out of the business for too long to simply show up and expect them to accept us. They’ve got to believe we’ve gone back to outlawing if we want them to take us in and trust us.”

“You’ve done plenty. That should be enough for ‘em,” Blackburn scowled.

“We’d have no reason to go up into those hills if we weren’t on the run,” Heyes said, in a steady and logical voice. “That gang isn’t stupid and they’ve gotta be expecting you to try and send someone after them.”

Jennings and Blackburn exchanged a look.

“I thought about that myself,” Jennings admitted.

“How are you going to convince them you’re outlaws again? You can’t just take out an ad in the newspaper.” Blackburn asked, skeptically.

“No, but you can,” Heyes replied, smoothly.

“What do you mean?” Jennings asked.

“You could write a newspaper article saying we robbed one of your trains,” Curry told him.

Jennings nodded.

“They’ll need more than that,” Heyes continued. “They have to need us.”

“Need you how?” Blackburn asked.

“Need us for something they can’t do. Up until now they’ve been taking money off the passengers. They hit trains that have wealthy passengers carrying large sums of money, gold, or jewelry. You’ll announce that all valuables will have to be placed in safes provided by the railroad.”

“What if they can open the safe?” Blackburn looked skeptical.

“I doubt it, it’s a dying art. They’ve gone for the easy money so far—right out of the pockets of dead men,” Heyes declared.

“Which brings us to our last point,” Curry said, with a hesitant glance at his partner.

“What else?” Jennings asked.

“What they took off the dead passengers must have made it worth their while, and they only hit one car, not the whole train. How did they know which passengers had money on them?”

“That’s something I’ve wondered about too,” Jennings admitted. “I’m afraid they may have a partner somewhere in Midwest. That’s the other reason we’re here talking to you. Mr. Harlow, president of the railroad, has authorized us to take whatever measures we think are necessary to get to the bottom of this—and no one else in the company knows how we’re planning to do it.”

Heyes gave his partner a worried glance. “If something happens to you two, what guarantee do we have that anyone will ever know we were helping you and not really robbing the railroad?”

“I’ll write a letter stating what the plan is and leave it in a safety deposit box right here in Laramie,” Blackburn told them.

“It’ll have to be believable; we’ll need a train full of witnesses. Everyone will have to believe we’ve really gone back to robbing trains. We don’t know where their source is, or how many spies they have out, gathering information for them.”

“If we give you access to one of the trains, what guarantee do we have that you won’t just take the money and run?” Blackburn questioned.

“Nothing but our word,” Curry said, glaring at the other man. “You’re the one coming to us for help.”

“That’s good enough for us, isn’t it, Joe?” Jennings said, with a warning glance at Blackburn. “Tell us what you need to get started.”

After things were settled with the Midwest detectives, Heyes and Kid returned to their own hotel. They stayed up long into the night hashing things out, forming the only plan that either of them thought had any chance of succeeding—and one that neither of them liked.

Charlotte sat across from the two men and listened. She had stayed up with them; drinking coffee and biting her tongue when she wanted to scream that what they were planning to do was insane. She’d been grateful that they’d allowed her to stay, even if she hadn’t liked what she was hearing. Maybe, she thought, they’d known it would be easier this way. She wouldn’t need to have it explained to her later; she’d know what her part needed to be.

It was decided that Charlotte would leave for Pine Bluffs in the morning, with Catherine and the baby, while Jed stayed on in Laramie to make arrangements for Joseph’s and Eliza’s bodies to be sent back to New Mexico. Heyes would begin putting their other plans into action.


000000000


A few short hours later, Charlotte sat at the hospital with Catherine and baby Joseph. She wondered fleetingly how she would manage with both of them, but her concerns were eased as she watched Catherine sit in the rocking chair with her brother. Even though she seemed to be in a world of her own, she had readily accepted the boy into her arms and he seemed to provide her with some comfort.

Charlotte looked up to see Jed walk into the room. The pain and vulnerability that she had seen on his face the day before had been replaced by something different, something dark. His face was set with a determination that sent a shiver running down her spine. The blue eyes that were usually soft and kind had turned hard and cold. What she saw in those eyes was the steely resolve and detachment from emotion that had been his only defense against the bloodshed and violence he had been a part of over the years. This wasn’t Jed, her trusted friend; this was Kid Curry, dangerous and deadly.

“You’ll be leaving soon,” he said, bluntly. “Take care of them.” His eyes rested on his daughter, but he did not go to her.

“You know I will,” Charlotte assured him, biting back the words she wanted to say…be careful, take care of Hannibal, bring him back to me…

After he had gone, she looked back at the silent girl, gently rocking in the chair, holding the baby tightly against her body and oblivious to the recent conversation. Frustration and anger swept over her as she remembered the spirited young girl, so filled with life that she had met last summer.

Hannibal Heyes stood in the doorway and watched; grateful that he had found a woman like Charlotte and desperately hoping they’d still have a chance at the life they’d planned. He took a step into the room and his wife looked up.

“Go,” she said, with a determination to her voice that surprised them both. “Just go and do what you have to do.”

Heyes looked into the face of the woman he’d vowed to spend the rest of his life with. He hated the pain he saw there, pain he was causing. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but for once, he didn’t have the words. He simply nodded and then he was gone, out the door and into the street to join his partner.

As she watched him go, she shuddered at the thought that she might never see him again.


Chapter Six


Hannibal Heyes smiled politely as the bank manager ushered him into the back room.

“Right this way, gentleman,” the manager said as he opened the lock securing the vault room.

Once in front of the rows of safe deposit boxes, Heyes turned to the two gentlemen he was with. “Well, don’t you think it’s about time you showed me that letter?” he asked, impatiently.

After a look from Blackburn, the bank manager discreetly left the other gentlemen alone with their box.

“Okay, Heyes, here it is.” Jennings took an envelope from his pocket and placed it in the other man’s outstretched hand.

“Alright,” Heyes said, after a few minutes. “This states that what we’re about to do is on behalf of the railroad and for the purpose of apprehending the murderous gang of outlaws that has been raiding your trains.” He folded the letter and returned it to the envelope, and then he placed it in the safety deposit box.

Blackburn locked the box and handed one key to Heyes while he pocketed the other. “If anything happens to either of us,” he made a gesture indicating Jennings and himself, “this will be your insurance.”

“I’ll also talk to the marshal so he’ll know what you’re doing, but everyone else will think you’ve really gone back to robbing trains. Are you sure you want to do it this way? With no backup?” Jennings’ face showed his concern.

“It’s the safest way,” Heyes replied. “The Kid and I will find the gang, but you two are going to have to figure out who the inside man at Midwest is. If I were you, I’d start with the men who had access to the insurance claims.”

Blackburn’s face suddenly darkened. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, the easiest way to find out which passengers are carrying valuables is to see who has taken out insurance. And then, I assume the railroad requires proof that a passenger was carrying a large amount of cash before paying out to the relatives?”

“The personal property declarations,” Jennings said, with a nod.

“You know quite a bit about how railroads operate, Mr. Heyes,” Blackburn said, gruffly. “I presume that is due to your previous line of work?”

Heyes smiled. “I know quite a bit about a great number of things, Mr. Blackburn.”

“You’ll send us updates as frequently as you can?” Jennings asked, changing the subject.

“We’ll contact you when we can, but there are no telegraph lines coming out of Devil’s Hole you know.”

“You’ll have to get word to us before the next robbery; we just can’t have another incident like…” Jennings face twisted into a grimace.

“Don’t worry, if the Kid and I are with the gang, there won’t be the kind of carnage you’re investigating here.”

“Good luck then, Mr. Heyes,” Jennings said, extending his hand.

Heyes took it and gave the detective a nod. “We’ll be in touch,” was all he said, as he turned and left the bank.


000000000


Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry entered the saloon with money in their pockets, like they had so many times in their younger days. This time it was different, but they found themselves filled with many of the same old emotions.

“Heyes, I can’t believe how easy that was,” Curry said, with a shake of his head, as he sat down at a table near the wall.

“I can’t believe how much I enjoyed that,” Heyes admitted with a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“You’re just feeling like a big shot because you were able to open the safe without using the combination that Blackburn gave you,” Curry said, with a short laugh. Heyes watched his partner settle back in his chair and raise his beer glass. “Heyes, I gotta admit, you’ve still got it.”

As much as he was enjoying the satisfaction of cracking the safe, he was enjoying watching his partner relax and laugh even more. It had only been two weeks since Eliza’s death, but it felt like years since he’d seen the Kid smile.

Both men enjoyed a tall beer and the sights and sounds of the saloon, all the while watching the other patrons for any sign of recognition or suspicion.

“Kid, do you think we’ve been out of it too long to know what we’re supposed to be watching for?”

“Naw, I figure we still know what a sheriff looks like. We didn’t see any sign of a posse on our tail.”

“That’s what I mean. Do you think we mighta missed something?”

“Relax, Heyes, nobody followed us. Save your worrying for when we ride into Devil’s Hole.”

Heyes noticed his partner glancing at a pretty brunette girl who had been making her way around the room and gave him a questioning look.

Curry quickly shook his head. “No, I’m not interested in that tonight.”

The girl approached the table and laid her hand on Curry’s shoulder. “Anything else I can get either of you boys?” she asked, sweetly. Her offer clearly did not refer to a refill of their drinks.

“No thanks, ma’am, we’ll just be finishing our beers and heading out,” Curry told her.

The girl quickly replaced her disappointed look with a smile. “Well, you know way to find me if you change your mind,” she said, lightly, as she moved on to another table.

Heyes shrugged. “Okay, well, I just thought…I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to.”

“No, I don’t. I’ll stay here and finish my beer and then I think we should get some rest. We have a long ride ahead of us.”

Heyes considered that for a moment. “Yeah, we should probably sleep in shifts, just to make sure.”

Curry looked at his partner for a minute and then began to laugh.

“What?” Heyes demanded.

“Some wild outlaws we are,” he laughed.

“Well, as long as that gang we’re lookin’ for doesn’t see us like this,” Heyes agreed.

“I don’t think I’ll have any trouble bein’ real serious when I catch up with them,” Curry said, dryly, his face no longer showing any amusement.

“No, I don’t think I will either. Let’s go get a room at that little place across the street. Looks like it has a good view of the street.”

Both men drained their glasses and left the saloon.


000000000


The two riders left at dawn, heading out toward the hills that they had known so well for so long.

“Heyes, you think they’re really in there?” Curry asked his partner after a few hours of riding.

“Yeah, there’re in there. There’s no place else they could go. Blackburn said they’d been searching the hills and nearby towns for the last month.”

The other man gave him a skeptical look. “Nobody’s seen ‘em. How do they know who they are looking for? It could be the mayor of Cheyenne out robbing those trains.”

“They’re in there,” Heyes scoffed. “The only question is who are they with? Is it anyone we know?”

“It’s been ten years; you think we’d know anybody in there?”

“Could be an old timer—somebody who hid out there while we were running things.”

“Are you calling us old timers?” Curry gave his friend a look of mock offense.

“No, we were just kids when we were leading the gang,” Heyes said, with a grin and Curry nodded in acknowledgement.

The two rode on in companionable silence for a few more miles, and then slowly began to reminisce as the familiar ride brought back memories of another time.

When, at last, they began to ascend the trail that would take them into view of any lookouts in the rocks above, the two riders fell warily silent. Both were watching the cliffs above them and listening, intently, for any sounds that might indicate another man approaching.

As if on cue, both men reined their horses to a stop and turned to look at the other. They had reached the location where, in their day, a rider entering the Hole would fire the signal shots indicating they 'belonged'.

“You wanna do it?” Heyes asked.

“Someone we know you say? Someone from the old days in there?” Curry asked with a questioning look at his friend, as he slowly drew his gun and fired three quick shots.

When it was done, they rode on, still not hearing or seeing any signs of life.

“You know, Heyes,” Curry began, when they were almost in view of the cabins, “I’m starting to think there isn’t even anybody—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the two were met with a barrage of bullets. The startled horses reared and nearly sent both riders flying. The men held on and managed to control their mounts just well enough to remain in their saddles, while ducking and leaning close to the animals. There was no point in returning fire because there was no way to tell where the shots were coming from. A quick glance between them confirmed that the other was unhurt and indicated that they were merely being given a warning. When the firing stopped, both men raised their hands and tried to keep their horses as calm as possible.

“Hello?” Heyes called loudly. “We’d like to introduce ourselves. We’re alone, you know that.” Both men waited, hands held high and hearts pounding.

After a few minutes, two riders descended from the rocks above and stopped in front of the new arrivals. Heyes smiled. The two men looked young and nervous; he could easily talk his way past these two and into the Hole.

“What do you want?” the first young men asked.

“Well, I just told you that. We’d like to introduce ourselves to your boss, so if you’ll just take us to him, we’d like to head on in now.”

The second rider, who looked to be in his early twenties with shoulder length dark, nearly black hair, looked on in amusement. “You don’t seem to realize who’s pointing the guns at whom here,” he said, with a grin. “We say whether you leave this spot riding your horses or slung over ‘em.”

“If your boss finds out we came all this way to see him and you shot us before we had a chance to talk, well, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes,” Heyes warned.

The dark haired rider continued to look at Heyes incredulously. “Says who?”

Heyes tilted his head toward his partner. “Kid Curry,” he said, with a broad grin.

“Hannibal Heyes,” Kid returned, waving one hand toward his partner.

Both of the younger men’s eyes widened. “Heyes and Curry are dead or gone to Mexico or something. You can’t be them.”

“You just let the others down there in Devil’s Hole decide that,” Heyes said, his voice revealing a more threatening tone than he had showed before.

The young men’s eyes darted between the two outlaw legends, not quite sure what to do.

In a split second, Kid saw his chance and took it. His gun was in his hand, cocked and pointed at the smart mouthed young outlaw before the boy knew what had happened.

“Now do you believe he’s Kid Curry?” Heyes asked.

“Why don’t you just stop jabbering and put your guns away so we can ride on in,” Kid said, with a look and tone that caused both young men to holster their weapons and nod their heads.

“We know the way,” Heyes said, urging his horse into a canter and leading the way.

Kid indicated for the two sentries to follow, while he, gun still in his hand, took up the rear.


Chapter Seven


The familiar trail opened up into a clearing where a dozen small cabins, a corral, and a few storehouses were located. Heyes stopped and looked around silently for a few moments as old feelings washed over him. It seemed like only yesterday that he and Kid had been running things here, and yet, it felt like a lifetime ago. He glanced around and noticed that some of the cabins looked like they had been repaired recently. The corral had new fence rails and a new small building stood off to the side of the cluster of cabins; it appeared to be some type of storeroom. It didn’t take long for the new inhabitants of Devil’s Hole to notice that two strangers had entered their hideout.

Kid looked from man to man. Most wore guns on their hips and looked as young as the two sentries they’d met on the trail. His eyes settled on one man standing apart from the others and looked a little older than his compatriots; maybe thirty years old or so. The man stood leaning against the doorframe of one of the cabins, watching them intently. What caught Kid’s attention were the man’s eyes. They were looking directly at him. Instinct told Kid that this was the man to watch.

The two locked eyes for a moment, sizing each other up, before Curry’s attention turned to a man striding purposefully toward them. The man’s hair was almost white, but he had a gait and air about him that gave the impression of a younger man.

The white haired man stopped in front of the horses and squinted up at them, inspecting the new arrivals. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, with an irritated look at his two young sentries.

“We stopped ‘em on the trail, White,” the dark haired young man replied.

The older man scowled. “You let them ride in here without taking their guns,” he said accusingly, then turned his attention back to the new arrivals.

“Who are you and what’s your business here?” he asked in an authoritative manner that told Heyes all he needed to know.

“Well, I’d say my business might be similar to yours,” Heyes said as a slow smile spread across his face.

“Is that so?” the white haired man asked.

By now, the gunman had made his way across the yard and stood beside the leader. Two other young men flanked them as well. All three had guns drawn and aimed at the riders.

“Who are you?” the man in charge asked again.

“I’m Hannibal Heyes, and this is Kid Curry,”

“Really, and I’m Jesse James,” the white haired man replied, straight-faced. Several of the young men who were now standing around them began to laugh or snicker.

Kid stiffened and looked at his partner. Heyes continued to smile pleasantly at the man standing in front of him.

“How do you account for us knowing the way into Devil’s Hole?" he asked. “The only thing I can’t figure is how you knew the way in. I haven’t heard of anybody using this place since the last of our boys cleared out.”

The leader considered this for a moment, and then turned to one of the young men by his side. “Go get Charlie, bring him out here,” he told him.

“Right away, White,” the boy said and hurried toward the cabins.

“Charlie?” Kid asked. Heyes shrugged. They’d known several men named Charlie over the years.

“Mr. White?” Heyes asked, “Would you mind if we got down off our horses? We’ve had a long ride and we’d like to stretch our legs.”

“All right, you can get down, but hand over your guns first.”

Kid glared at the man and made no attempt to move.

Heyes removed his gun and handed it to the man standing closest to him. “Come on, Kid, we’d have done the same thing if someone had ridden in here like this when we were runnin’ things.”

“Nobody ever rode in unannounced…when we were runnin’ things,” Kid said with a glance at the two young men who had been the lookouts. Both of them bristled slightly at the rebuke. Kid handed over his gun with a scornful grunt.

“Foster, McGill, you boys get on back to your post, and I don’t want to see any more men riding in here unless you’ve got their guns. Is that understood?” White scowled at the two young men.

“Yes sir, right away.” The two wheeled their horses around and rode quickly back up the trail, relieved to be sent away with only a warning.

Heyes and Curry dismounted and waited uneasily for the man named Charlie to arrive. It only took a few minutes before a group of men hurried toward them.

“Charlie Pickett!” Heyes exclaimed when the man at the center of the group came into view. “The last I heard about you was that you were working on a big spread down in Texas.” Charlie was an older man, with a face that showed the wear of years living out on the range. The man had been a top notch chuck wagon cook who’d been involved in rustling in his younger days. Charlie had spent a few months hiding out in Devil’s Hole, but never taken part in any robberies. It had been obvious early on that he was no hardened outlaw and Heyes had allowed him to stay on as long as he was willing to cook for the men.

“Howdy, Heyes, Kid. Good to see you boys,” Pickett said hesitantly.

“What are you doing here, Charlie? Did you get yourself into trouble again after all these years?” Heyes studied the older man’s face.

“Not exactly, Heyes…” Charlie hesitated and looked at White.

“That’ll be all, Pickett,” the leader said, dismissing the other man. Holstering his pistol, he turned back to the new arrivals. “Well, this is quite an honor. The infamous Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. What brings you two to Devil’s Hole after all these years?”

Heyes and Kid exchanged a glance. “Well, Mister White, why don’t you invite us in for something to cut this trail dust and we’ll tell you.” Heyes replied pleasantly.

White’s face softened and he smiled, though not entirely warmly. “Sure, let’s have a drink.”

“It’s not Mister White, it’s just ‘White’, on account of his hair,” one of the younger men interjected. White scowled at him and the boy suddenly looked fearful.

“That’s right,” the leader told Heyes. “Just call me White.”

“Well, White, do you think you can see fit to give us our guns back now?” Heyes asked, flashing a bright smile.

White’s eyes met Heyes’ as he considered the request. “After we talk,” he said after a moment. “Let’s go.” White gave his men a nod and they holstered their guns.

White led the way and Heyes followed. The group of men that had gathered began to break up as they either followed Heyes and White or returned to their work around the yard.

Eventually, only Curry and one other man remained. Kid studied the man opposite him. He was tall and lean, with a narrow face and dark eyes. A satisfied smile was fixed on the man’s face. Kid recognized the man for what he was—a gunman, and a killer.

“Kid Curry, never thought I’d have a chance to meet you face to face,” the man said, with a hint of a challenge in his voice.

Curry stared back in silence.

“Tom Kinsey,” the man said after a moment, waiting for Kid to respond.

Kid’s face showed no emotion. “I’m going to get that drink,” he said, and turned to follow Heyes and White. He’d heard of Kinsey, of course, but he wasn’t going to give the man the satisfaction.

Tom Kinsey was a hired gun, a man who killed for pay and didn’t care whose money it was that bought the kill. He had just begun making a name for himself in Texas and the southwest about the time when Heyes and Kid were embarking on their quest for amnesty. He had never been connected with train robberies before, but then this was no regular gang. Kid had a feeling he had just met Eliza’s killer and it was only a matter of time until he settled the score.

Kid followed Heyes and White into the large building across from the cabins. He stood by the door, watching Heyes and White take a seat at a table along the far wall. The room consisted of a long bar and several small tables. Heyes and White settled themselves at the table in the farthest corner of the room. One of the other men brought a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

A dozen men crowded into the makeshift saloon. Most of the outlaws were young and rough looking, an uneducated bunch that had been ripe for the promise of easy money and the thrill of adventure. Only a few looked as if they weren’t newcomers to the outlaw trail. One of the seasoned bunch was Ike Ridley, a short, stocky, man who was wanted in several states, including Wyoming. Although Ridley had never ridden with the Devil’s Hole gang, he had crossed paths with the gang on a few occasions. Kid glanced back to the corral where he had been standing with Kinsey, expecting to see the man strolling toward the saloon; instead, he saw someone who appeared to be Kinsey riding back up the road that led out of the Hole. Kid glanced nervously at Heyes, but his partner was focused on his conversation with the new leader of Devil’s Hole.

“Well now,” White began, as he filled the two glasses, “what brings you back to Devil’s Hole after all this time?”

“You do,” Heyes replied, taking a drink. “You’ve got quite a gang pulled together here, but you need my help to keep it paying off.”

“Oh really?” White laughed, “How is that?”

“You’ve been robbing the passengers. It’s only a matter of time until the railroad insists that all valuable be placed in safes aboard the trains for security purposes.”

“That won’t be a problem,” White said simply.

“I assume you have an inside man, someone you think will get you the safe’s combinations. But they don’t give those combinations out to very many people. Anyone who knows the combination would be immediately suspected and investigated. You’ll lose your contact and all the information he’s providing.” Heyes let that sink in for a moment. “Unless you had someone else to open the safes, or at least appear to open them.” Heyes sat back and watched White’s face.

“Appear to open them?” White questioned.

“You get the combinations, just to speed things up, but with me along on the robbery, no one can say for sure that the combinations were leaked. That way, your man will be safe and can continue to provide you with the information you need.”

White considered what Heyes had just proposed. “What makes you so sure I have a source inside the railroad?”

Heyes merely shrugged. “You know which trains to stop, which cars are carrying passengers with large sums of money; there’s no way you could that without someone at the railroad tipping you off.”

“You may be right about the passengers’ valuables being moved to a safe. I’ve considered that myself,” White conceded. “Now why don’t you tell me why a ‘reformed outlaw’ like you is offering to help me rob a train?”

“The Kid and I are back in the business. We hit a train last week, just outside of Sweetwater,” Heyes answered smugly.

“I’d heard you gave up outlawing almost ten years ago and had a ranch somewhere now,” White looked curiously at the man across from him.

“That’s what we wanted everyone to think, especially the law. You don’t really think ‘Hannibal Heyes’ was out of the business all together do you? I had to find a way to get the banks and railroads off our backs for a while. We’ve been living off the railroad’s money for years now, right under their noses. It has to run out some time though and now seemed like the right time to come back in and get set again for a nice long time. I don’t want to work a ranch for the rest of my life! The Kid and I think a nice retirement in South America would be a whole lot more pleasant.”

“What are you suggesting, Mr. Heyes?” White asked, beginning to take an interest.

“A business proposition, White. You have your source find out when the largest amounts of currency or gold will be aboard their trains and then after a few jobs, we all retire rich men.”

“I can see your point about the safes, but what do I need him for?” White tilted his head in Curry’s direction.

“We’re partners, we always work together. You don’t get me without him. Besides, he protects our interests—his and mine,” Heyes added, with a slight edge to his voice.

“I’ll think about it,” White said, tossing back the last of the whiskey. “Now, how about a game of poker to pass the time?” the white haired outlaw suggested lightly, setting down his empty glass.

“Sure,” Heyes reached into his jacket pocket and removed one of the bundles of money that he and Kid had, presumably, taken from the train they’d stopped the week before. He was becoming more convinced than ever that their precautions had been worth it. Nobody at Midwest, outside of the two detectives, knew that he and Kid hadn’t returned to their old ways. Since he had no idea yet who White’s contact inside the railroad was, they couldn’t afford to take any chances.

White motioned for a few of the other men to join them. Ridley sat down next to White, and a man who called himself ‘Shorty’ sat next to Heyes. ‘Shorty’ was well over six feet, with a thick black beard and mustache. Several of the younger men stood around the table and exchanged nervous looks.

“Some of these boys haven’t been on a job yet, so they don’t have any cash on them, isn’t that right, boys?” White gave the young men a rather patronizing smile. “You can watch though, watch and learn. Cooper, you’ve gotten paid, come on over here.” A young man who looked about to be about twenty years old, with red hair and freckles, rushed over to the table and sat down. The boy looked oddly out of place, Heyes thought, in this room full of ruffians.

“Why don’t you have your partner join us?” White suggested to Heyes, and Kid walked over, somewhat reluctantly, and sat down at the table. “Dealer’s choice,” the white haired man stated, as he began to shuffle the cards.

The sound of two distant gunshots brought a momentary halt to the room’s activities, but with no more than a nervous glance at White, the men returned to their drinks and cards. Heyes stared at White for a moment before speaking. “What the hell was that?” he asked, afraid he knew exactly what it had been.

White merely shrugged. “Just Kinsey, taking care of business,” he replied.

Heyes glanced at his partner. Curry’s face told Heyes that he had made the same conclusion as to the reason for the two gunshots. Heyes looked briefly around the room filled with young men eager to make it rich. How many of these men were expendable? Kid, we’re going to have to play this one real carefully, he thought to himself as he watched White deal the cards.