Over The Moon 2

Over the Moon

- 2 -

It all came together by the middle of November. It was time to take action, and Heyes had a list of questions he first needed answered and a list of people who could answer them.

First on the list? The bartender at the saloon. Second? The barber, of course.

Heyes decided that he himself would ask pertinent questions of the barber while getting his hair cut. He wanted the Kid to visit with the bartender for two reasons. For one, in keeping with their temporary sobriety examples to help Clu, they had not been back to the saloon since the day the Kid had drawn on the two bullies and Heyes figured the bartender might welcome the opportunity to talk to the Kid about his fast draw. Also, he might still be mad at Heyes for holding a gun on him.

And, besides, Heyes needed a haircut!

Heyes was right about the barber being a wealth of information. He was the only barber in town and he was certainly opinionated!

Applying his usual diplomacy, Heyes brought up the subject of how the Diamondback Ranch seemed to be about the biggest in the area.

The barber’s expression turned sad, and Heyes caught it in the mirror. “Yeah, he said. “Used to be a lot of little ranchers around here. All decent spreads, all of ‘em. But most of them ran into bad luck. First they started losing cattle from their herds . . .”

“How do you lose cattle?”

“They didn’t lose anything, Mr. Smith. Those cattle were stolen! Five, six, seven every night, just enough to bring small herds down to puny herds.”

“And the Sheriff . . .?”

“Did nothing! Kept saying he couldn’t find any clues! Clues to cattle thievin’!? Bah! Not that hard!”

Heyes pretended to be shocked. “What kind of an honest Sheriff would pretend he couldn’t figure it out?”

“A stupid one, that’s what kind! He’s useless! Sits in that chair of his and sleeps, that’s all. Maybe he’s even on someone else’s payroll - paid to turn his head the other way. Maybe not though, most likely just lazy.” The barber chuckled, and then seemed to realize he had said more than he’d intended. He sobered up quickly, a clue to Heyes that he should not continue this line of questioning.

So Heyes changed direction. “You said first the local ranchers started losing cattle. What else happened to them?”

The weather was a safe enough subject, so the barber continued. “Droughts! Two years in a row! No little rancher can take that kind of bad luck – losing all those cattle, little by little, and then no rain for a couple years. All them ranches went back to the bank.” The barber shook his head. “Those boys – they were all good folk. They didn’t deserve that. Used to be a nice place to live around here. Maybe not a boom town but holdin’ its own.”

“Do any of them still live around here?”

“Maybe half. A lot of them left to find their fortune somewhere else. Left sudden! A couple went to live with relatives back East. The ones who are still here are all doin’ something else – taking on small side jobs, findin’ work wherever they can. Arnie Clemming took over the blacksmith’s when Drew had a heart attack. And Fred McNutt helps out at the mercantile. Things like that. But poor Clu McPherson only knew ranchin’ so he was a little out of luck. His wife Betsy, she had always taken in sewing, so they got by until she died a couple years ago. Then he went downhill real fast. Now he’s livin’ in some little shack. The rest of them that stayed – at least they managed to find houses.”

Heyes shook his head in mock sympathy, unwilling to let on that he knew Clu. “Such a shame. Such a shame. Whatever happened to all those little ranches?”

“Bank took ‘em back, one by one. Then they got sold, pennies on the dollar, to Stoney Conway! He bought up every one of ‘em! Every last one! Now you add it all together and he’s got one of the biggest spreads in the state! That ranch you asked about.”

“What a bargain for him.”

The barber was finished cutting Heyes’s hair. He removed the cape. “Bargain! Bah! The man is cutthroat, that’s all! Cares nothin’ for the little guy. All power for him. I got nothin’ nice to say about him, so I ain’t goin’ to say any more! That’ll be two bits.” He shook the cape and held out his hand.

Heyes dug in his pocket for quarters, and handed the man two of them. The barber considered it a generous tip, but Heyes figured the extra was the price of information, now and possibly in the future. Then he looked at his new haircut in the mirror and wished he could take some of it back.

He and Kid Curry met at the shack at noon and Clu had laid out a lunch for the three of them. Heyes related the information he had gleaned from the barber, asking Clu if he had heard that the Sheriff might be on Stoney Conway’s payroll.

“I’d heard it, but . . . well, guess I never wanted to believe it.”

Inwardly, Heyes smiled at Clu’s intrinsic honesty and integrity, proud anew each time he was reminded of it.

He changed the subject. “Thaddeus, what did you find out from the bartender?”

“Nothing,” said Kid Curry. “The bartender doesn’t come in to work until four o’clock on Tuesdays.”

“Sorry,” said Clu sheepishly. “I forgot to tell you. It’s been a while since I. . . well . . . was there, and guess I just plumb forgot.”

The Kid smiled. “Don’t worry about it. The cook was there, and I bought breakfast for Emmaline.”

“Emmy? Isn’t she the redhead who works in the saloon sometimes?”

“That she is!” said the Kid lasciviously, and Heyes was glad to see Clu had the decency to blush at the Kid’s tone. “But she was wearing her dressing gown,” the Kid hastily added.

“Did she give you any information?” Heyes asked.

“Plenty! Even answered some of my questions!” Once again, Clu looked down. His loyalty to Betsy clearly continued long past her death.

“Like what, Thaddeus?” Heyes brusquely asked.

“Like she knows Stoney Conway real well. Real well.”

“Thaddeus, quit playing around,” Heyes said sternly enough to bring the Kid back to his senses. “What did she tell you about Conway?”

“Well, seems the man doesn’t like to talk. But she got a few things out of him we can use. Like he hired a gunfighter.”

“A gunfighter!” Clu suddenly remembered. “Yeah, I forgot about that. That was crazy!”

Heyes was not surprised. “When?”

“While back, I guess. Maybe before the drought. Most likely because the ranchers didn’t leave when their cattle were stolen.”

Heyes turned to Clu. “Clu, do you remember the first ranches that went back to the bank?”

This was a little upsetting to Clu. “All too well. One night the Ericksons suddenly left. In the middle of the night, lock, stock and barrel. They were just gone. The next day I was talking with my friend Jeff, who owned the Circle S, and he couldn’t figure it out. He said he was having trouble with cattle thieves, too, like we all were, but he was trying to hang on. Just like me and everybody else. And then – couple weeks later – he was just gone, too! No warning, and I would have figured he might have said goodbye. Just left in the middle of the night, everything they could fit in a wagon. And disappeared! Heard back from him by letter a couple months ago. They moved to Oregon and are starting over there. He wouldn’t give me any good reason for leaving. Like he was scared or something. And then, one by one, they all left ranching. Me, too.” He shook his head sadly.

“And then the ranches all went back to the bank,” Heyes said dreamily, more as a spoken thought than anything. He turned back to Kid Curry. “Ki . . . Thaddeus, did she say who the gun was?”

“She said Johnny Ringo, but I know Ringo never works this territory.”

“But . . . could it have been? For the right money?”

The Kid shrugged. “I suppose.”

“How do you know Johnny Ringo?” Clu asked.

Heyes was well aware that Kid Curry had once outdrawn Johnny Ringo, although the situation had defused and ended without bloodshed. Knowing he himself had not been present at the time, he hastily responded, “Never had the pleasure of meeting the gentleman myself. We’ve heard of him, just like you.”

“Whoever it was,” said Clu, “it explains why all these poor little ranchers felt like they suddenly had to just give up. Stop fighting the rustlers, stop fighting the weather, avoid the hired gun. Just let their ranches go back to the bank.”

“Yea... eah,” said Heyes thoughtfully. “But things have changed, haven’t they?”

“Well, the drought has lifted anyhow,” said Clu.

“And the rustling has stopped,” said Heyes. “Which just might have something to do with Conway owning all the cattle now!”

“And Ringo is long gone,” said the Kid.

Clu sighed. “I know where you’re going with all this, but what if the drought returns? And what if Johnny Ringo is called back if we start being a threat to Conway again?”

“I can’t control the weather,” said the Kid in a low voice that caused Clu, and even Heyes, to look at him, “but if Ringo returns, leave him to me.”

That night Heyes himself went to the saloon, for several reasons. For one, although Clu encouraged both his young friends to go have a good time, Heyes figured the Kid should stay behind and make sure Clu didn’t return to the bottle when left alone. Although he trusted Clu and believed in his strength, he had seen one too many recovering alcoholics slip, and he didn’t want that for his old friend.

For another, Heyes figured enough time had gone by so that perhaps the bartender wasn’t angry with him anymore, and he might just be a good source of information.

But mostly, Heyes figured it was his turn. After all, the Kid had seen Emmaline at breakfast...

So after supper that night, Hannibal Heyes strode into the one remaining local saloon and ordered a beer. He actually had a taste for whiskey but figured he’d better keep his mind sharp.

And his instincts regarding the bartender were dead on target.

Although Stoney Conway and his ranch hands were the biggest spenders in the saloon, they were also the biggest troublemakers, and the bartender had no love for them. After the bartender accepted Heyes’s sincere apology for holding a gun on him earlier, and particularly after Heyes convinced him that he was actually the one who taught Thaddeus Jones how to draw that gun so quickly, the bartender was only too happy to talk.

A lot of what he said was already known to Heyes or just completely unrelated to the ranchers’ problems, but one thing he mentioned in passing caught Heyes’s ear.

And that one thing is what led Hannibal Heyes to ride over to the county seat the next morning, early, so he could be there when everything opened.

When Heyes hadn’t returned by suppertime, Clu was worried, but the Kid wasn’t. He knew his partner very well and knew how capable he was of taking care of himself.

And when Heyes did return later that night, he revealed to them the secret weapon that would help them win this war!

Always the showman, Heyes made his friends wait while he recounted the story of his 20-mile ride to and from the county seat. Which was no story at all because absolutely nothing happened. Heyes never could resist an opportunity to tease his partner. After a few minutes of this, Kid Curry’s hand hovered near his gun and Heyes figured he’d better get to the point.

He spread out his notes of the day on the table and proceeded to tell Clu and the Kid what he had discovered. As he talked, he pointed to certain words for illustration.

“The first thing we’ve got going for us, gentlemen,” he said dramatically, “is that the bank may or may not have taken all these ranches back legally. There were a couple lawyers in the county seat area and one named Conant wasn’t busy today, so I teamed up with him. I took those copies the bank gave you when you re-assigned the ranch to them and this guy Conant looked them over. He said those looked OK (so far) but he wanted to study them so I left them with him. He was concerned about the original mortgage, too, which you don’t have a copy of. So we took a walk over to the Clerk of Courts office where the mortgages are kept on file and took a look. All the records for the whole county are in there. He found a clause deep in that mortgage that addresses non-payment. Non-payment – that’s why you lost the ranch, and all your friends did, too, Clu. It was real small print and not the kind of thing the average person would pay attention to when buying land and signing lots of papers.”

“You’re right,” said Clu, “I don’t think I remember it. Mr. Mevis the banker probably just told me all the places to sign. I never liked him but I didn’t think he was dishonest.”

“Well, I don’t know if he was dishonest or not, but I’ve pretty much got it figured out that he wasn’t particularly honest, so think what you want.”

The Kid snickered, and when Clu didn’t show surprise, Heyes solemnly continued. “The clause I’m talking about was all in legal talk, but what it amounts to is that if you were having trouble paying back your mortgage due to circumstances beyond your control – such as a drought! – the bank would have no choice but to suspend payments as long as necessary – up to two years!”

“Two years?” cried Clu. “The drought barely lasted that long. I would have been able to keep the ranch! If I’d known about that clause!”

Heyes shook his head meaningfully but held up his hand. “Wait, there’s more. Seems this clause was crossed off. And that cross-off was initialed by ‘RM,’ who would be the banker, and ‘CM.’ And guess who that is?”

“’CM’ is me,” said Clu. “But I never initialed anything on the mortgage. I don’t even remember that clause – how could I initial crossing it off?”

Heyes handed Clu a piece of scrap paper and a pencil and told him to put his initials on it. When Clu had done this, Heyes laid the scrap of paper next to one of the notes he had taken that day.

“Just what I thought,” Heyes said. “Take a look. Here are the initials you just wrote. And on this sheet is what I drew today – I traced your initials from the mortgage. And this is exactly what they looked like.”

Kid Curry whistled at the finding. Clu McPherson cried out in anger. “These aren’t my initials on this mortgage! I don’t know who put that ‘CM’ there, but it sure as hell wasn’t me!”

“You’re sure?” asked Heyes.

“Of course I’m sure! Look at these two! They’re not even close! That’s not how I sign my ‘M,’ and look at that ‘C!’ Look at that flourish! That’s not my signature in a million years! Why, that dirty . . . Mevis, that dirty crook . . .!” Clu was standing by now and getting a little too excited.

“Calm down, Clu,” Heyes said softly. “Calm down. Remember I said we were going to help you get your ranch back? Getting upset isn’t going to help you. We’ve got to keep clear heads. Sit down now. Good! We’re going to help you. We promised. Now I want you to promise me you’ll calm down.”

Heyes saw the anger in Clu’s eyes dissipating but grief was beginning to show. Heyes wasn’t happy with either one of these but at least Clu was calming down. “Now I’m going to go remove the tack from my horse, which I haven’t done yet, and bed him down for the night. Just take some deep breaths and watch the fire and think good thoughts. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Clu seemed to be deep in thought and wasn’t paying attention anymore, so Heyes nodded to the Kid to come with him and they both went outside.

“Good find,” said the Kid with admiration, “but how’s it going to help?”

“We’ve got a decision to make, Kid. I didn’t tell Clu everything, but the lawyer said he suspected that signature wasn’t really Clu’s, and since he turned out to be right, he can get something going that I think he called a Class Action Suit.”

“What’s that?”

“That means he’ll have the chance to examine the mortgages of all the guys who lost their ranches due to non-payment, and if all those initials turn out to be as fake as Clu’s, all those evictions are null and void and the guys can get back their ranches.”

“Hey! All right!” The Kid slapped Heyes on the back.

“Not so fast, Kid. It looks good but there’s always a catch.”

So much for the Kid’s euphoria. “Naturally.”

“For one thing, he would have to get that Class Action Suit going and it would go to court, and it might go to more than one court before it’s finally decided.”

“So?”

“So this might drag on for months – maybe years! – before these guys have the right to get their ranches back. Plus, there’s no guarantee that the ranchers will win.”

“Of course they’ll win! They’ve got right on their side.”

“Conant thinks so but there’s no guarantees in life, Kid. Who knows that better than us? And don’t forget – Mr. Banker is going to fight this! This legal battle could end up costing lots of money!”

“Money?”

“Yeah, money. Like what none of these guys have and what we’re running out of. And here’s something else, Kid. I don’t really think Mevis is behind all this. I don’t even think he’s the real enemy here.”

“Then who is?”

Heyes narrowed his eyes. “Think about it.”

It didn’t take long for Kid Curry to come up with, “Stoney Conway. The most powerful man in the area now. Thanks to buying up all those ranches at a fraction of their worth.”

“Bull’s-eye! You win.”

“And everyone else loses, thanks to Stoney Conway,” said the Kid despondently.

Heyes put his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Take heart, Kid. Remember who he’s up against here.”

Heyes’s words took a second to sink in, but when the Kid turned to look at his partner, who was in very close proximity, Heyes smiled broadly. “You’ve got a scheme?” asked the Kid hopefully.

Heyes opened his arms widely. “Of course I have a scheme! We’re going to play Over the Moon with Stoney Conway!”

Finding allies was easy.

Heyes’s plan started out with Clu personally speaking to all the guys who had lost their ranches but still lived in the area. Clu figured it would be best if he took both Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones with him when he visited. Although Heyes wasn’t keen on this part because someone might recognize the outlaws, he agreed to it. Also, this way everybody would have the opportunity to meet their new co-conspirators, plus Heyes could sum up each ex-rancher’s loyalty level.

So the next morning Heyes and the Kid were mounted up and waiting for Clu, who was still in the house.

“Kid,” Heyes said, “you look like a gunfighter.”

“I am a gunfighter.”

“Well, don’t look so much like one.”

“What exactly did you have in mind, Heyes?”

“I don’t know! Slouch or something. Smile!”

“I am smiling.”

“Well, then, don’t smile so much. Just look like a regular guy.”

“Heyes, are you planning on being this exasperating all day?”

“No, Kid,” Heyes laughed. “Just wanted to start the day out right.”

Kid Curry shook his head. The two of them waited on their horses for several more minutes until finally Heyes called, “Clu, you coming or not?”

“Be right there!” was yelled from the shack. A moment later, Clu emerged looking almost guilty and mounted up with his cohorts.

Hannibal Heyes missed nothing – ever – and asked Clu if anything was wrong. When Clu said he hoped they were doing the right thing, Heyes reassured him with a few silver words, and they started out for the Abner Zukowski house. From there they traveled on foot to several houses in the town, saddened by the number of village houses now occupied by men and women who used to live on their own little ranches.

When Clu figured they had spoken with everyone in the few blocks that constituted the town, they rode their horses to the blacksmith’s shop to speak with Arnie Clemming, and then to the mercantile to talk with Fred McNutt and to purchase some things for Heyes’s plan. They then sent off a number of telegrams, some to a few other ex-ranchers whose address was known to them. Finally they grabbed lunch at the saloon. Making sure no other patrons were in the place, they invited the bartender to join them. A heartfelt talk between the four of them ensued, during which the bartender professed to be on their side. Heyes believed him and divulged part of his anti-Stoney Conway plan – just the part that involved the bartender, but it was an important part. In a few minutes, Emmaline came downstairs and was invited to join them for lunch. The Kid, Heyes and Clu were just leaving, but Heyes threw enough money on the table to pay for all five lunches, including an extremely generous tip. As he left, he made meaningful eye contact with the bartender, who nodded. The last thing they heard as the batwing doors swung behind them was the bartender saying to Emmy, “Eat hearty, my love, and then go grab your coat. You’ve got some ground to cover this afternoon!”

They returned to Clu’s place, where Clu and the Kid spent some of the afternoon napping while Heyes took pencil to paper. By late afternoon they rode out again.

And, at 7 pm, the action started.

The bartender told Emmy to ride out to Stoney Conway’s ranch and announce to all the ranch hands that the saloon in town would be offering free beer to all of the Diamondback employees that night (thanks to Heyes’s generosity, which he was hoping would not become part of his reputation). When Heyes, the Kid, Clu, and the ex-ranchers arrived at the Diamondback that night at six pm, they clandestinely watched from afar as all the workers rode into town, including Stoney himself!

Heyes gave the ex-ranchers a quick pep talk and organized them, assigning each man different parts of Stoney’s large herd to each individual guy. There was no one to detect them milling amongst Stoney’s large herd. Everyone spread out, keeping a sharp watch in case any of Conway’s hands stayed behind to guard the herds. It was a full Moon, like Jed and Han used to like for Over the Moon, and easy for everyone to see each cow and check its brand. Each ex-rancher took a tally and went home afterward.

Late that night, after Clu and the Kid had retired, Heyes couldn’t sleep. He quietly slipped outside and leaned against the hitching rail to think. Lighting a cigar, he watched the smoke cascade in front of the moon. So many memories that moon prompted! Heyes was deeply in thought and did not hear the man behind him until he was close. Uncharacteristically startled, Heyes reached for his gun but heard, “Don’t bother.”

“Kid! You scared me!”

“Yeah,” said Kid Curry softly, “I have that effect on people.”

Heyes relaxed again. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“’Course I could. You woke me up when you tramped outside loud as a brass band.”

Heyes chuckled. “I was quiet and you know it.” He turned back to the moon.

They stood silently for a few minutes, side by side, both deeply in thought. After a while, the Kid asked, “You’re thinking about Clu, aren’t you?”

Heyes was surprised by the astuteness of his friend’s question. He nodded in the affirmative. “What if all of this backfires? What’s going to happen to him?”

“How do you mean?”

“What if all those cows actually turn out to be Conway’s . . . ?”

“Well, we’ll find that out tomorrow morning when we talk to everyone. But you and I both know some of that big herd was stolen from these poor guys.”

“ . . . or what if Conway doesn’t react the way we want and the next part of the plan fails? Or what if Conant can’t get a court case going fast enough? Or what if – Kid! – what if we lose? It could happen! That lawsuit is our backup, and if all else fails and we lost that – what happens to Clu? We’ve only made his life worse, not helped him.”

Kid Curry turned to look at his partner. “What’s really eating you, Heyes?”

Heyes’s speech had become increasingly frenetic, but on hearing those words, his shoulders dropped and his voice became almost a whisper. “It’s my fault, Kid.”

Kid Curry chose to remain silent and hear his friend out.

“Eleven years ago,” Heyes continued, “it was my fault we left him. I know you were just supporting me when you said you wanted to leave, too. I always knew that.”

“It’s a long time ago, Heyes,” the Kid said very gently, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Besides, what does that have to do with all this?”

“Yes, it matters. If we hadn’t left him, maybe he wouldn’t have let himself be bullied by Conway or Mevis the banker. We would have been there to stand behind him. And especially when he lost Betsy. And with your talent, Conway might not have felt so safe calling in a second-rate gunfighter. This whole thing might have been avoided . . . “

“Heyes!” The Kid’s tone was sharp enough to halt Heyes’s reverie. “Stop it! No matter what might have happened, no matter if we’d stayed or not, we could not have stopped a drought!”

Once again the wind was taken out of Heyes’s sails. In his heart, he knew his partner was right.

Kid Curry put his arm around his friend. In a soft voice, he simply said, “It’s not your fault. None of it is. We’re here to try to help, that’s all. And if we fail, Clu won’t be a loser – he’ll be a stronger man for it, with lots of new friends. Maybe stronger than ever. And that’s because of you.” His uncharacteristically long speech finished, the Kid touched his forehead to his friend’s, and then removed his arm and leaned back to enjoy his cigar.

Neither of them looked at each other. Heyes nodded briefly, then puffed on his cigar as well. After a minute, he made a face and threw the cigar on the ground. “Ugh! I never liked these things!” He chuckled and then said, “I’m turning in,” and headed back inside, patting the Kid’s back once or twice on the way.

The Kid smiled knowingly. He stayed outside for a while longer, finishing his cigar and thinking, before he went back to bed.

* * *

The next morning, Heyes slept while Clu and the Kid visited everyone to gather the tallies. It was apparent from this information that many of the cows Conway claimed to own were really cows that had been stolen from the various ranchers before the drought/repossessions. Conway had either done a bad job of attempting to put his brand over the original brands, or he hadn’t bothered re-branding at all. For the time being, they decided to withhold this information from Attorney Conant to make sure Conant continued his legal sleuthing independently.

The next part of the plan was to be executed the following morning, and it involved only Heyes and the Kid. Heyes was intentionally vague when he explained to his friends what was involved, and didn’t tell the Kid everything until they had ridden away from the shack.

Kid Curry was concerned. “That place might be well-guarded. You should let me come with you.”

“No, Kid, that’s exactly the reason you shouldn’t come with me. You know I’m artful enough to slip inside by myself, undetected. I need you outside, nearby, to cause a diversion if I’m discovered.”

“I thought you said you were too artful to be heard breaking in.” The Kid tried to keep his tone teasing, but there was a strong undercurrent of apprehension evident to both of them.

They rode along quietly for a few minutes, and then Heyes turned to his friend and said softly, “I’ll be all right, Kid.”

Nothing more was said between them until they reached the Diamondback Ranch. They dismounted and the Kid made sure the horses were well hidden out of sight of the house. He and Heyes snuck closer to the house, being careful not to make any noise and particularly to avoid being seen by any ranch workers. They hid in a small grove of trees for a moment while Heyes double-checked that no one was nearby, and then giving his friend a nod, he simply said “I’ll be all right, Kid” again. And Hannibal Heyes used a lockpick to let himself into the side door of the Diamondback Ranch.

Heyes slipped inside and silently closed the door, pausing a moment to survey the room. It was the middle of the morning and he heard no sounds coming from within the house. All residents – and that may very well have consisted of only Stoney Conway – were apparently working elsewhere on the ranch. He hesitated a moment while he reviewed his plan. Thoughts of his friend outside worrying about him stubbornly kept intruding, so he shook his head to think clearly again.

He was apparently in a den or office of some kind. His goal for this clandestine visit was to leave a note for Stoney Conway, and the large desk seemed an ideal spot to place it where it would be seen right away. No, he decided. He wanted to make a more stunning impact on Conway.

Heyes stealthily continued on through the large house. His destination was Stoney Conway’s bedroom. On the second floor, he saw a number of obviously unused bedrooms but the end of the hall yielded gold. Conway’s bedroom was by far the largest and most ornate, with an elaborate bed and matching furniture. Thick velvety drapes, which matched the sumptuous bedspread, hung at the window. The fireplace rivaled in size the one in the main room downstairs. Heyes shook his head sadly at the extravagant way Stoney Conway obviously lived, while all the guys whose ranches he had scooped up for a song were barely getting by.

The sadness lasted only a second as Heyes heard a noise in the hallway. Someone was heading right for this room! There was no time to leave, so Heyes hid behind one of the drapes. In a moment, heavy footsteps indicated someone had entered the room. Curiosity got the better of Heyes, so he slowly peeked to see who it was.

Although Hannibal Heyes had never actually seen Stoney Conway, it was evident that is who Heyes was watching. Intrigued, he watched as Stoney rummaged through a couple of bureau drawers until he found what he was looking for. Conway then pulled his shirt over his head and replaced it with the new one from the drawer. Scooping up the discarded shirt, he took a quick look around the room, causing Heyes to have to suddenly pull back behind the curtain. Apparently seeing everything in order, Stoney then left, slamming the door behind him.

Heyes let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stepped out into the room again. He listened at the door until Stoney’s footsteps receded and the front door of the house slammed as well. Stoney was gone. Heyes had carte blanche. And he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

He pulled out the note he had written for Conway. Heyes decided to skim it quickly again before leaving it behind. He quietly read,

Conway,

We know you are a crook. We know you stole over a thousand head of cattle from ranches in this area. We know you hired a gunfighter to threaten the ranchers to leave. We know you worked with Mevis when the bank took back the ranches for non-payment, buying them for a song. We have proof of everything. You are a crook, and Mevis is a crook, and unless you sell back every single one of those ranches back to their original owners, you and Mevis will be exposed for what you are, and you will both go to jail. And you must sell back each ranch for $1.00!!!! And you must apologize to each rancher! You have two days to do this! We are watching!

Heyes shook his head at the “apologize” comment. That was Clu’s idea. But it was a nice touch.

Heyes grabbed the knife Stoney kept on his bedside table, marveling at the sheer size of it. It’s threatening presence matched Stoney’s himself. Heyes shuddered when he thought how closely he came to being detected by this large man. Wasting no more time, he then stabbed the note and plunged the knife through the lush bedspread into the mattress. He wondered briefly why it felt good to do that.

Fairly certain he was alone in the house, Heyes nonetheless returned quietly to his original point of entry. He peeked out first, and when the coast looked clear, he quietly shut the door behind him and loped back to where the Kid was waiting for him.

Kid Curry clearly looked relieved to see his friend. “Glad to see you. When Conway came out and you didn’t, I got a little concerned.”

Heyes was too angry to acknowledge his partner’s concern. “That guy lives like a king. We have to dethrone him, Kid!”

“Don’t worry,” said the Kid as they mounted up. “Your plan will work. Your plans always work.”

Heyes looked at his partner, realized he was kidding, and laughed at his own anger. “All right, let’s go home.”

* * *

At Heyes’ insistence and despite Clu’s unanswered questions, they spent two uneventful days doing nothing except household chores and chopping old bricks in half. Clu watched them at work, through the window. There were a lot of things he didn’t know about the boys’ plan to get their ranches back, but he supposed they knew what they were doing. But, try as he might, he couldn’t for the life of him see why broken bricks were going to be needed.

As he watched, Heyes, hot from the effort of chopping the bricks, removed his shirt and moved to hang it on an old nail just outside the door, on top of Curry’s who had removed his a short time earlier.

As he turned to go back to his task, Clu’s eyes were taken by a selection of scars on Heyes’s body – a couple of bullet wound scars to his arm and shoulder, what looked like a knife wound scar on the back of one arm, and four thin scars on one shoulder. "Clu was saddened by these but said nothing."

Apart from the peculiar brick-chopping exercise, nothing else noteworthy happened except on the first morning, when they watched Stoney Conway gallop to the bank as it first opened and rush inside.

“Well, will you look at that!” Clu said in fake astonishment. “Wonder why he’s in such a hurry?”

Kid Curry chuckled. “I think Mr. Conway is anxious to tell his friend Mr. Mevis about a love note that was left for him on his pillow when he went to bed last night!”

Clu’s eyes got wide. “On his pillow? You broke into his house? I thought you were just going to nail it to his front door or something.”

Heyes hadn’t intended telling Clu everything, but this cat was out of the bag. “I just figured it would have more impact if he knew an enemy had free access to his house.”

“But now he’ll be on his guard. He’ll post people in his house.”

“Correct,” said Heyes smugly. “And that’s why the next part of our plan happens outside the house.”

And so it did. This was Kid Curry’s favorite part of the plan because it involved playing Over the Moon, something the two of them hadn’t done for a long time. Heyes was very vague about this part of the plan to Clu because he didn’t want any chance of Clu putting “Over the Moon” together with Thaddeus Jones and Joshua Smith. He only said they were going to “shake up the troops a little.” Clu suspected the broken bricks had something to do with it, but got only vague answers to his queries.

Clu was apparently satisfied with that, and on the third night, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry once again made their way to the Diamondback Ranch and tied their horses behind the camouflage of shrubbery some distance away from the house. They then crept under the cover of darkness closer to the house, each lugging a heavy bag of broken bricks with him.

Heyes and Curry were both very good at avoiding being detected. But this was a risky part of the plan – a part that almost certainly would cause some of Stoney’s braver employees to search for them.

Heyes loved the danger.

As pre-arranged, they stationed themselves fairly close to the house, one in the back, and one on the side, far apart but close enough to see each other. Their guns were drawn and ready.

Stoney had indeed stationed extra hands around the house to guard it; undoubtedly more were inside. Heyes watched them to determine a pattern of their positions. It soon became clear to him that most of them were simply staying put in their assigned position, while only one was mobile and walking around the house. When he felt ready, he gave the Kid a hand signal and his friend nodded.

The game began. Heyes threw one of the brick chunks high in the air, over the house, and Kid Curry, from his position, shot it. It shattered into several pieces and they all fell on the tile roof of the house, making a tremendous clatter. Immediately Heyes threw another. It too was shot accurately and more pieces rained down on the house. Heyes threw another, and another, and another, and all were shot accurately by the Kid. The noise level was deafening! The sound of the shots coupled with the sounds all the brick pieces made as they shattered and hit the tile roof and all the reverberations made it sound as if there was a contingent of shooters outside instead of just one.

Heyes signalled to the Kid, who then threw some bricks in the air, most of which Heyes was able to hit and shatter. The noise seemed almost non-stop, and must have sounded to Stoney and his men like they were surrounded.

And the men were shooting back, also, contributing even more noise. But they had no idea who or what they were shooting at, and could not see their adversaries in the dark. Heyes had to laugh when he noticed a couple of the men shooting over the house, apparently thinking an enemy was on the roof. Had Heyes not been out of all bricks but one, he would have thrown a brick in that direction. Who knows? – maybe Stoney’s man would have hit it!

But that last brick had a special job. It had Heyes’s second note tied to it. Signaling to the Kid that it was time to head back to their horses, Heyes flung that last brick through Stoney’s second-floor bedroom window. Heyes hoped it landed on the same expensive bedspread that he had stabbed three days earlier.

The Diamondback hands were starting to spread out, at Stoney’s shouted commands, so Heyes and the Kid hightailed it out of there. Not a moment too soon, but their mission was accomplished. From a ridge a safe distance away, they laughed as they watched Stoney Conway and the Diamondback hands running frantically in and out of and around the house, looking for the unknown shooters and almost accidentally shooting each other in their desperate search.

They walked their horses leisurely back to Clu’s shack, laughing and re-living their best Over the Moon ever on the way. When they got back, Heyes simply told Clu, “Mission accomplished.”

“Good! You delivered the second note! I don’t suppose you tacked this one to the door?”

“Joshua tied it to a brick and threw it through the bedroom window!” said the Kid.

Clu cringed. “Ooh! You broke a window. I didn’t really want any violence, but I suppose one broken window is all right. Wait a minute – what were all those other bricks for? You didn’t break all the windows in the house, did you?!”

“Of course not! What do you take us for?”

Clu scrutinized their deadpan expressions, to no avail. “Well, what did you use all those other bricks for?”

Heyes put his hand on Clu’s shoulder. “Building blocks, Clu, building blocks. Just building our attack a little at a time.”

Clu knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with them, so he ushered them inside, promising cookies one of his neighbors had delivered while they were gone. As they were eating, Clu asked what the second note said.

The Kid suppressed a grin because he knew Heyes had it memorized.

“It went something like this,” said Heyes self-righteously. “Conway. Your time is up. The price has gone up. Now you also have to give all your victims $500, in addition to giving back their ranches. We know you have it. Don’t delay. The next attack will be real bad.” Heyes snickered.

“Next attack?” asked a puzzled Clu. “Another letter?”

“No, he means . . .” The Kid realized his mistake when he saw Heyes’s glare, so he corrected himself. “Yeah, he means another letter.”

“There’s another part to the plan, but we might have to wait a few days for that.” Heyes looked to the Kid, who nodded affirmatively. “But who knows? Maybe Stoney Conway will come to his senses and rush to the bank tomorrow morning to withdraw all his money and give it back to the ranchers.

Heyes, Curry and Clu kept a low profile the next few days. Clu tried to get either of them to tell him what was going on but neither would reveal much. In an unusual turn of events, this time it was Kid Curry who had contributed more to the plan.

Some of the ex-ranchers stopped in to chat and pass on information they’d heard. It seemed that Stoney Conway’s nerve knew no bounds. The man was now attempting to hire people to work for him. He had actually approached some of the very men whose ranches he’d “stolen.”

“Too many cows for his men to handle alone?” Heyes asked sarcastically.

“No!” replied Abner Zukowski. “He’s trying to hire guards! Why would he need guards? We’re no threat to him!”

“Guilty conscience?” suggested Heyes, while the Kid stifled a snicker.

“Could be,” said Abner. “Little late for that, I’d say.” That was the general consensus, but Abner continued. “But a couple of Conway’s top men are starting to harass us. Insulting us, that kind of thing. Say, I think it’s the same two men who bothered you when you first came into town, Thaddeus.”

Kid Curry remembered them very well. They were just a couple of dime-a-dozen thugs on Conway’s payroll, but Kid Curry remembered them because they had threatened him. Conway was apparently feeling the pinch and was resorting to old tactics.

On the fourth day, a different kind of news reached the McPherson shack from several startled townspeople.

Johnny Ringo was in town!

Heyes had ridden off to the county seat to meet with Attorney Conant to see how the legal part was progressing. Although the Kid had wanted to play Over the Moon at the Diamondback again, Heyes convinced him that a second time would be dangerous for them, and that they were running out of threats, anyway. Best to make sure the back-up plan was holding up.

While he was gone, Abner and Chubby and Arnie and even Emmy practically beat down Clu’s door, startling him enough to grab his shotgun and causing the Kid to draw his gun, before the intruders identified themselves.

“He’s back!” they all said breathlessly. “He’s back in town.”

Kid Curry holstered his gun; this was all he needed to hear.

“Who?” Clu wondered. “Who’s back in town? Why the fuss?”

“Johnny Ringo!” wailed Emmy. “That gunfighter who was here before! He scared everybody half to death!”

“He didn’t hurt anyone but he threatened us all!” yelled Chubby.

“You’re certain it’s the same guy who was here before?” asked Kid Curry.

“Yes, yes!” cried Abner. “When Conway couldn’t get any of us to work for him, he hired Ringo back! God, what more could this man want from us!”

“Now he wants blood!” wailed Arnie.

“No,” said the Kid gently. “This time Ringo wants blood.” Although quiet, his tone was so commanding that all turned to look at him.

“How do you know that?” Clu ventured.

“Because I’m the one who hired him. He’s working for us.”

The silence in the room was palpable but thankfully short-lived. The Kid noticed that Clu didn’t seem surprised, but the others clearly were.

“You . . . hired Johnny Ringo . . . to work for us?” said Abner.

“It’s not Johnny Ringo, it’s Jim Rangel. Both gunhawks, but Ringo’s got a bigger reputation. Conway probably wouldn’t be able to afford him. It was Rangel who was here before.”

“How do you know that?” Emmy ventured cautiously.

“Was I right?” asked the Kid.

“Sure,” said Chubby, “but how did you know it wasn’t Johnny Ringo?”

“When I talked to you guys at first, the ones who had been threatened by him described him as over six feet, blond hair, mustache, blue eyes, dressed like anybody else. Ringo’s shorter, with dark hair and eyes, and always wears black. Wasn’t him, but it sounded like Jim Rangel. So I got a message to him.” As soon as he said that last sentence, the Kid regretted it, but the damage was done.

“How did you know where to contact him?” Emmy asked innocently.

“I . . . uh . . . seems like we have mutual friends.” Although the Kid felt he wasn’t convincing, his answer still seemed to satisfy everyone. He left out the part about how he and Rangel were old friends who had robbed a couple stagecoaches together in the early days.

“That’s good, that’s good,” said Abner. “What’s next then?”

“Where is he?” asked the Kid.

“He’s staying at the hotel,” said Arnie.

“Room six!” Chubby offered.

“I’ll take it from here,” said the Kid quietly.

* * *

Kid Curry was greeted with the point of gunfighter Jim Rangel’s gun when he opened the door to room six. But the attitude that initiated that ostentatious show of power evaporated when Rangel saw who was standing outside his door.

“Kid!” he yelled happily, pulling his old friend inside.

There was some laughter and back-slapping involved before they both talked business.

“They don’t know who I am here,” said the Kid. “My name is Thaddeus Jones. Try not to forget that.”

“Jones. All right, guess I can do that. Is Heyes with you?”

“Yeah, and he’s Joshua Smith.”

Rangel chuckled. “Not too original.”

“No, but . . . like I said, try not to forget.”

“Have a seat,” Rangel generously offered. The Kid took the one chair and Rangel sat on the bed. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and handed it to his old friend.

“No, thanks,” said Kid Curry. “Heyes and I aren’t drinking now. Helping out a guy who needs it. Drank too much, and we’re a good example for him.”

Jim Rangel hooted loudly. “Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes setting a good example for an honest citizen. I like that. Here’s to Thaddeus Smith and Joshua Jones.” He raised the bottle in mock salute.

“Thaddeus Jones and Joshua Smith,” the Kid corrected him.

Rangel chuckled and took a drink. “All right, tell me why Thaddeus Jones and Joshua Smith need Jim Rangel.”

“It’s a long story, Jim . . .”

“Got all the time in the world. After all, you’re paying me.”

“We can’t pay you much.”

“You know me. My needs are few.”

The Kid laughed and shook his head. “All right. It goes like this . . . “ And Kid Curry proceeded to relate the story to Jim Rangel of why exactly his services were required. Again. By the other side. Jed Curry knew Jim Rangel well; in many ways, Jim was a lot like Heyes. The Kid told him about their original encounter with Clu as teenagers, and how they felt they wanted to help the poor guy when they ran across him now, all these years later. He told Jim about Stoney Conway and what he had done to Clu and all the little ranchers in the area. And he told Rangel about Mevis the dishonest banker. As he spoke, the Kid watched his old friend’s attitude turn from non-committed to interested to empathetic. When he was done, he waited for a response.

Rangel took a drink. “This isn’t what Conway told me when he hired me.”

“No doubt.”

“He painted those guys as villains. Said they needed to be put in their place.”

Kid Curry was too angry to respond.

“I got no reason to doubt you, Kid. It rings true. He was brutal. Yeah, I think I’ll lend a hand.”

“Good!” The Kid breathed a sigh of relief.

“But I wonder – why me? No other hawk close by?”

“I wanted you. I wanted the same guy he hired. I want Conway to see how the tables can turn on him. We’ve got him running scared now. He just needs a little more to push him over the edge.”

“Kill him?”

“No, no violence. Just some ‘convincing.’”

“It’s funny.”

“How do you mean?”

Rangel took another drink. “When he hired me, he told me he wanted me to kill a few guys. I told him my work was to threaten only and he got mad. And then he stiffed part of my pay when I wouldn’t kill anyone. You know, Kid, I think I’ll do this job for free!”

Kid Curry smiled sadly and thanked his friend.

“All right, what do we do?”

“When you’re ready . . . “

“I’m ready anytime for that asshole.”

“We face him down.”

“He won’t let you. He’s got two big guys he keeps around as pets. Frick and Frack. They don’t like him much, but he pays them well.”

“Frick and Frack?”

Rangel laughed. “I made that up. But he’s a coward. He’ll make them face us instead of him.”

“I met them. When I first got here. They’re useless.”

“They’re not quality guns but I wouldn’t call them no good.”

“I would. And then we face him. And Heyes will stand in if we need him. Conway’ll do whatever we say. Heyes has a lawyer who is drawing up the paperwork for these guys to get their ranches back. We asked Conway for an extra $500 for each guy, so they can get started again. He’ll do it.”

Rangel cocked his head. “You seem sure of yourself.”

“I am.”

Jim Rangel the gunfighter laughed and then suddenly got serious. “You still got it, Kid?”

“Heyes thinks so.”

“Let’s find out.”

Each of them stood up and faced each other in hotel room number six. Their gun hands hovered near their guns and their eye contact did not waver. The very instant – maybe even before – Rangel flinched a little to indicate that he was making his move, Kid Curry drew his gun and pointed it. Rangel never even saw the move.

He shook his head and laughed. “Yeah, I’d say you still got it! Let’s go threaten us a mean old rancher!”

Heyes came back in time for supper that night, carrying a thick folder full of papers that caused the Kid to tease him about looking like a banker. Clu had by that time met Jim Rangel and was at the stove making a special meal for their guest that night. This consisted of beef stew and home-made biscuits, which was actually the only meal Clu knew how to make. His cooking wasn’t great, but his coffee-making skills were improving, which his guests appreciated thanks to it being a cool December.

Unable to remember if Rangel had ever met Heyes or not, the Kid introduced his partner as “Joshua Smith.” Heyes shook his hand and kept an even expression, as always. He knew exactly what was going on. As did everyone in that room except Clu.

After the table was cleared, Heyes spread out some of the papers he had returned with from the attorney’s office.

“We’ve got everything we need right here. We’re ready.”

“What is all this stuff?” Clu asked excitedly. He was really the only one in the room with a tangible interest.

“It’s a little complicated,” said Heyes, “but I’m going to whittle it down. All these are papers the attorney drew up – legal documents – that say that Conway is relinquishing ownership of all the ranches he took over. For one dollar apiece. There’s a paper here for every one of you guys – you Clu, and Zukowski, and Chubby, and McNutt, and Murphy, and Clemming. And there’s one here for Erickson and your friend Jeff and one for each of all the other guys who left the area, if they want their ranches back again. Which they probably do. Clu, go ahead and sign yours now.”

Clu was astounded. This was so much more than he had expected from Heyes’s visit to Conant. He quickly scanned the document, which was presented as a legal letter, and when he realized what it was saying, he picked it up to read it thoroughly. “This is amazing,” he said. He was so engrossed in the letter that he missed seeing the smile Kid Curry gave to his partner and Heyes’s small nod in return.

“This is amazing,” Clu repeated. “It says that my ranch will be re-entered into my name as sole owner. It says all I have to do in return is give Conway a dollar . . .” He looked stunned.

“That’s called ‘legal consideration,’” Heyes said. “If you don’t have the dollar, we can give you . . .”

Clu dismissed the thought. “No, no, no . . . it’s not that . . . “

Heyes continued. “Once we all have the signatures on these letters, I’ll get them to Attorney Conant, who will take them to his court cases and the judge will pass judgment based on the letters. Of course this won’t happen overnight . . .”

“Oh, no, of course not! I wouldn’t expect it to . . .”

“Next week,” Heyes deadpanned. “Latest.” The Kid stifled a snicker.

“Next week!” Clu was dumbfounded. “Boys! Joshua, have you read these letters?! Do you know what they say?!”

“Mmmm . . . no,” Heyes lied, poker face well intact. This was the moment he was waiting for, the denouement, the crowning glory of his weeks of work. He was having too good a time to play it straight. “What do they say?”

“It says that Stoney Conway admits the cattle thieving was his fault! And then it says that Mr. Mevis the banker admits that he altered the original deeds. And it says that Conway was the only one who was allowed to buy them up cheap from the bank. In this letter, Conway and Mevis admit working together. They admit that everything they did is illegal!”

“Sounds about right to me.”

“Me, too,” said the Kid.

“But . . . boys! There’s a line at the bottom of this letter for both Mevis and Conway to sign! These letters won’t be legal unless these guys sign them!”

“Sounds about right to me.”

“Me, too,” said the Kid.

“But . . . But . . . “

Jim Rangel wasn’t aware of the game his friends were playing. “That’s where I come in, Mr. McPherson,” he explained. “I’ll convince them to sign.”

Clu stared at Rangel as if seeing him for the first time. “But you’re a gunfighter . . . You worked for Conway! Why would you . . .?”

Rangel shrugged. “I changed sides,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Dazed, Clu sat slowly back down in his chair. “I don’t under… I mean, I just don’t under…”

The Kid grabbed him by the shoulders. “Why don’t you let us worry about it, Clu? We’ve got it all planned out.”

Clu looked up at him with a drained look. “What will happen?” he asked in a weary voice.

Heyes explained it. “Tomorrow, after banking hours, Emmaline will catch Mevis as he’s locking up the bank and tell him that Conway wants to see him right away. Mevis will ride out to the Diamondback, but the three of us will intercept him first.”

“Me?” asked Clu weakly.

“No. Jim, Thaddeus and myself. And all these letters! And the five of us will find a nice quiet place to talk. A place with a pen and ink!”

“But . . . but you won’t get close to Conway. He’s got a couple big guys guarding him most of the time.”

“They won’t be there then.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me,” said Kid Curry.

Heyes continued. “We’ve got Conway on the run, Clu, and Mevis knows about it. They’re both scared enough to do just about anything. We want to push them over the edge.”

“But . . . why are they scared? What do they have to be afraid of?”

“For some reason, they think we’ve got a militia backing us.”

“But . . . “

“But why? Don’t worry about it, Clu. Just trust us. We’re holding all the aces. And the weapon they probably figured they could use as a last resort isn’t there anymore.”

Clu just raised his eyebrows, too mystified to speak.

“Me,” said Jim Rangel.

They spotted Mevis the banker in his business suit bouncing along on his trotting horse a quarter mile down the road. Jim Rangel, more the gunhawk than the robber, couldn’t resist a jest or two about the wimpy image. But Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry were more professional. And they had more at stake.

They surrounded Mevis easily, and overwhelmed him with the spectacle of three men sitting tall in the saddle, two of them wearing bandanas covering most of their faces. Apparently missing the fact that they weren’t pointing guns at him, Mevis raised his arms so high and so quickly that he split one of his sleeves.

“Don’t rob me! I’ve got no money! I’m unarmed! Wait – I think I do have a little money – can I reach for my wallet? Don’t rob me!”

“Relax, Mr. Mevis,” Jim said, fighting back the desire to snicker. “We’re not here to rob you. Put your hands down. We’re here to do business with you.”

“Business? With me?” The banker was skeptical but smelled a reprieve. He lowered his hands slowly and took a good look at the speaker. “Wait a minute – aren’t you . . . aren’t you that gunfighter? That gunfighter we hired? Ringo?”

“Rangel! It’s Rangel!” Jim spat back at him.

Heyes rolled his eyes and thought Well, now we know where the Ringo thing came from.

Mevis remained nervous but still on his guard. “You want to do business with me?” He glared at Heyes and Curry. “Who are these two guys? And why are they wearing bandanas on their faces? What kind of business deal happens like this?”

“Not just you, Mr. Mevis,” Jim continued. “You and Mr. Conway. You hired me before and I did a good job for you, didn’t I?”

“Well, yes, real good.”

“And now I heard the two of you are having lots of trouble. New trouble. The kind that requires special skills to get out of.”

Mevis narrowed his eyes. “How did you hear that?”

“You know the business I’m in, Mr. Mevis. Word travels fast in my world.”

This was entirely satisfactory to the banker, who relaxed visibly and smiled. “I see, I see! And who are these two?”

“They work for me. They have reputations, too, Mr. Mevis, and want to keep their faces covered. If they took off those bandanas though, you’d recognize them right away.”

“From wanted posters?”

“That’s right.”

This completely thrilled fat Mr. Mevis. He wiggled. “Oh, this is fantastic! This is so timely! I was just on my way now to see Conway!”

“We know, Mr. Mevis. It’s our business to know things like that. Let’s all go see him. When he sees the three of us together and hears the plan we have to offer, I guarantee he’ll go along with it!”

A few minutes later, they knocked on Stoney Conway’s door. One of the two thugs Kid Curry had encountered in the saloon when he’d first ridden into town answered it. The Kid was glad he was wearing a bandana over most of his face but still averted his eyes to avoid being recognized. Heyes stared daggers at the guy. Jim Rangel smiled at him, but the smile was not returned.

Mevis the banker took control. He was almost giddy with excitement. Heyes thought he looked like he had never felt safer, surrounded as he was by three bodyguards – lawbreakers like himself. “Where’s Stoney?” he demanded. “Let me see him right now. I’ve got great news for him!”

Heyes saw the other thug came out of the room with the desk in it. Neither of Stoney’s men said anything. They held their places and regarded the three men accompanying the banker with suspicion. Both held guns on the intruders.

“Put those guns away,” said Jim sociably. “You know better than that.”

“That’s right,” said Mevis, not as kindly. “What’s the matter with you two? You know who I am! You know who Ringo is! And these guys are our friends! Where the hell is Stoney?”

The guns stayed leveled, but at that point Stoney Conway himself came out of the den. “Mevis! What’s going on? Who are these guys?” Then he saw that one of the guys was the gunfighter he’d hired before. “Rangel! You’re back? You’re here to help?”

“That’s right, Mr. Conway. I’m here to lend a professional hand.”

“Stoney!” Mevis finally got his chance to talk. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! He’s here to help. And these two guys with him are John Hardin and Curly Bill Brocius! They’re working for us now!” (These were the names that were suggested for Heyes and Curry on the ride in. When Mevis had asked their identities, Rangel replied, “Have you ever heard of John Wesley Hardin and Curly Bill Brocius?” Heyes just rolled his eyes, but Mevis got so excited he wiggled again.)

Stoney Conway raised his eyebrows. He was clearly impressed. “Come in, gentlemen,” he said, ushering them all into his den. As he was about to shut the den door behind them, he told the thugs, “You stay out there.”

“Forget them,” said Mevis, waving his hand. “Let them have the rest of the day off. We don’t need them. Look who we have now!”

At first, Stoney looked like he was going to disagree, but then he turned to his thugs and said, “You’ve both been working hard. Go ahead and take off until tomorrow. Why don’t you spend some time at the saloon and remind the town who’s running everything around here!”

For the first time, Frick and Frack actually smiled. Heyes looked through the gap in their teeth for a brain, but saw none.

The thugs turned and left and Stoney shut the door to the den. “Which one of you’s Hardin?” he asked.

“Me,” said the Kid quickly when he saw Heyes about to say it.

“You, Hardin, you guard the door.” So the Kid posted himself by the den door. He closed the door and then leaned against it, crossing his arms. He heard the front door slam as the two thugs left the house, and then he heard them ride away. Instinctively he knew the only people in the house were in that room. He made eye contact with Heyes, and realized he was thinking the same thing. And they both were quietly thanking Conway for sending his thugs away. It made their job easier.

Stoney vaguely waved his hand to the chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat,” he said to no one in particular. Fat Mevis sat down heavily.

Conway sat at his desk. The two gunfighters and the bank robber had noticed he didn’t wear a gun. Since he had bodyguards, that made sense. But it also made sense that a gun would be within easy reach should he need it. Kid Curry noticed a couple rifles hanging on the wall, but they looked decorative and probably weren’t loaded. A handgun would be what Stoney would need in an emergency. The only place it could be would be his desk. Again he and Heyes made eye contact and realized they were thinking the same thing.

“All right, gentlemen,” said Stoney. “Let’s talk business.”

“That’s right, Mr. Conway,” said Jim with fake respect. “Let’s talk business. Word has it that the tables are turning and you need help. To turn them back where they belong.”

“That’s right, I do.” Conway was obviously suspicious, but this timely gift from Heaven was just too good to pass up. “This is actually a prophetic time for you to show up.”

Mevis and Heyes shook their heads in agreement. Rangel and the Kid shook their heads, wondering what “prophetic” meant.

Hannibal Heyes took control of the conversation. “My name is Brocius, Mr. Conway, and me and my friends Mr. Rangel and Mr. Hardin there, (Heyes waved his hand in his friends’ general direction), “were all discussing your problems and trying to figure a way to best help you.”

It was obvious Heyes had Stoney Conway’s undivided attention. Heyes laid the folder with all the papers facedown on the desk and leaned closer to Stoney on the desk for emphasis. “Now, we’re all pretty good guns (no doubt you’ve heard of us), and we know a lot more guys we can call on who are fast, too, loyal friends you know, but it seems to us that maybe the best answer for you isn’t violence. See, it seems that to come up with the best answer, first you have to really figure out what the problem is.”

Stoney Conway was fairly certain he already knew what his problem was, but Heyes was spinning a fascinating yarn, so he continued listening.

“See, Mr. Conway, the best we could figure is that you have just too dang much land to control! And cattle! Just too danged many cattle! You were thievin’ so many beeves that now you have too many to control! And all that new land! And all those little ranches!”

Conway was starting to get angry. “What are you talking about?! I don’t have too much . . .”

“Just too much land! Too many little ranches!”

“That’s none of your concern! Your job will be . . . “

“We know our jobs, Mr. Conway, don’t you worry about that! Now we figure that you probably want to do what’s best for you. And that, of course, is to spend the least amount of time in prison.” At this, Heyes’s voice inflection lowered and he stood straight. Next to him, Jim Rangel lost his smile and he also stood tall, focusing his attention on Mevis the banker. By the door, Kid Curry’s stance had never altered; he still leaned against the door with his arms crossed and no expression on his face, but now he started watching Conway’s hands.

The banker stayed in his chair but looked confused.

But Stoney Conway caught on. He stood slowly and menacingly, placing his hands behind his desk. “What the hell is this?” he growled.

“We figured you want to do what’s right, Mr. Conway,” Heyes continued in his “new” voice, “for all the little guys you hurt when you stole their homes and livelihoods. And by making things right, you should be able to limit the amount of time you spend in prison.”

Rangel said, “That goes for you too, Fatty,” to the banker. Mevis’s face turned red and he tried to stand, which wasn’t easy for him, but when he saw Rangel shake his head “no” slowly, he abandoned the effort.

Conway was turning a little red himself. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Heyes turned the folder over and took out one of the letters. He stepped to the side of Conway’s desk so there was a clear path between Conway and the Kid, and then slammed the letter in front of Conway. “Read it!” he ordered.

Stoney stared daggers at Heyes and then reached down with his left hand to ferociously grab the letter. Rangel grabbed the next letter off the pile and handed it to Mevis, “One for you too, FAttorney”

Stoney apparently was a fast reader and, when done, he slowly raised his eyes to meet Heyes’s. He said nothing but his thoughts were obvious.

“Tut, tut, Mr. Conway,” Heyes scolded. “Such language you’re thinking! You’re among gentlemen here! Gentlemen thieves anyhow. Like yourself!”

Up to this point, Stoney had been working hard to maintain his composed disposition. But suddenly he felt more hatred for Heyes than he had ever felt for anyone in his life. His right hand had been secretly opening the desk drawer, and now he quickly brought his hand up with a gun in it and aimed it at Heyes.

The room was suddenly filled with noise as the gun went flying from Conway’s hand. Stunned at this dramatic turn of events, he could do nothing but stare at Kid Curry.

The Kid merely kept his gun leveled at Conway and shook his head threateningly. Mevis finally gasped. With a smile, Rangel reached down and picked up Conway’s gun from the floor.

“You’re forgetting, Mr. Conway,” said Heyes, “that you’re dealing with John Wesley Hardin and Jim Rangel and Bill Brocius here. Another good thing for you is that you try not to forget that again. Ever. Oh, this is your lucky day, all right.” Heyes pointed to the letter on the desk and changed his voice tone again. Menacingly, he ordered, “Sign it!”

“You, too, Fatty,” Rangel said to the banker, handing him another pen.

Mevis finally figured out what was going on. “But this letter says Conway and I jointly were responsible for cattle thieving . . . “

“And?”

“And illegal contract alteration . . .”

“And?”

“And conspiring to sell illegally repossessed properties at illegal prices . . .”

“And?”

“Refusing sale to other interested parties at realistic prices . . . Oh, my god, it just goes on!” He groaned.

Heyes was all business. “There’s one letter here for each of the poor guys you cheated. You’re both going to sign every one of these, and then we’re going to take them to the attorney, and then the attorney is going to take them to the judge, and the judge is going to rule in favor of the ranchers. Thanks to these signed letters. And they’re going to get back their ranches. And everything will go back to normal, except that the two of you will be in prison for a little while.”

“And if we don’t sign?” Conway asked in barely-suppressed rage.

“Oh, these letters will still go to the judge,” said Heyes jovially. “Except this time they’ll be delivered by the honest ranchers you cheated. The judge will then get the law to start an investigation into the cattle thieving and the attorney will go to court and get judgments and injunctions and all sorts of terrible things. And then you’ll go to jail for a looooooong time. We’re giving you a choice, of course. Prison for a short time or prison for a long time. No, no,” Heyes finished flippantly, “no need to thank us.”

Stoney Conway ignored the imploring looks he knew he was getting from his partner-in-crime the banker, and stared at Heyes. “If I ever get my hands on you . . . !”

“I wouldn’t, Conway. I told you we have more friends. Close by. Ever hear of Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes? The Devil’s Hole Gang? Sign.”

Finally Conway took the pen and signed the letters, including the one Mevis had, and even blotting them afterward. Heyes handed the letters to Mevis and indicated with a nod of his head for him to sign as well. When they were finished, Rangel collected the letters and returned them to the folder.

He tipped his hat. “Pleasure doing business with you gentlemen. All of you!” He and Heyes smiled at each other, and then the Kid moved aside for Rangel to leave.

Conway watched him and snarled, “Where is he going with those?”

“Guess.”

Mevis put his hands over his face and groaned. Conway’s rage was tempered only by the fact that Kid Curry’s gun was still leveled on him. “All right, you’re done here! You’ve got what you want! Get the hell out of my house!”

“Not . . . quite done.” This came from Kid Curry.

“See, Conway,” Heyes explained. “We figure those guys are going to get their ranches back soon. But a lot of time has gone by since you stole them, so they lost a lot of income thanks to you.” Heyes saw Conway’s neck disappear as his shoulders tensed in anger. “Now, now, no need to fret about it,” Heyes continued. “Don’t worry, you can help. We figure if you come up with $500 for each of these guys, that should help them buy small herds they can start out with again. Now, you shouldn’t look so surprised – I believe we did mention it in our little note, didn’t we?”

Conway’s hands balled into fists.

Heyes turned to the Kid. “How many ranchers are there again, Hardin?”

“Thirteen,” said the Kid very seriously.

“That’s right – thirteen. Let’s see – thirteen times five hundred . . . that equals six thousand five hundred dollars. Oh, since you’re in a generous mood, let’s make it an even seven thousand!”

“You’re insane,” sputtered Conway.

“And there’s your safe, conveniently sitting right there.”

“I don’t have that kind of money!”

“Yes, you do, Conway. We know you do.” This was a complete bluff. Heyes had absolutely no idea how much money Conway had in his safe. Heyes had been tempted to open the safe when he’d first visited the room, but he’d figured the Kid was worried about him so he left right away. But there was a very good chance that Conway would in fact have that much money on hand. A rancher of his size, making so much money on cattle he’d stolen, would likely have large sums of money close by in case of an emergency. Like this.

Conway hesitated, trying unsuccessfully to read Heyes. When he made no move to open the safe, Kid Curry spoke. “Conway, are you going to open that safe? Or shall we open it for you?”

Conway of course thought he meant by force, but the Kid was actually referring to Heyes’s nimble fingers.

Stoney threw up his hands. “All right, all right! No need for violence!” He got down on his knees and started working the tumblers. Heyes watched the numbers with interest. Always thinking of the future.

While the safe was being opened, the Kid turned to the banker. “Mevis, you look a little pale.”

“You’ll never get away with this,” Mevis said in such a soft voice that it was almost a whisper.

“Sorry – didn’t hear that,” said Heyes.

“It’s just as well,” said the Kid in a sinister voice, and turned his weapon to Mevis. The terrified banker tried so hard to shrink into his chair that he almost tipped over backward.

Heyes continued to watch Conway’s hands in case there was a gun in that safe. But, thankfully, the only thing Stoney pulled out was a wad of money. Stoney never took his eyes off the money. Heyes noticed that his eyes now looked like those of a frightened fawn. “Set it on the desk,” Heyes ordered.

Conway looked slowly up and saw two guns pointing at him. He did as told and then sat when Heyes pointed to his chair.

Heyes took the money and counted through it. There was almost $15,000 in that wad! He was tempted – sorely tempted – to take it all. But, hesitating only a moment, he then removed the $7,000 and rolled the rest up and set it back on the desk. Everyone in that room was surprised. Only Kid Curry knew his partner would do this, and when Heyes glanced at him for assurance that he had done the right thing, the Kid gave him a little nod.

It was a moment before Stoney Conway could say anything. He stashed the remaining money back in the safe, and sat heavily in his chair. “Now get out of here,” he said in defeat.

“Sure,” said Heyes. “And the two of you are coming with us.”

“What?!” Back to the booming voice.

“Sure! You’re cattle thieves, remember? Or don’t you remember the part of those letters where it said you stole all those cattle from those ranchers before you stiffed them of the ranches themselves? You both signed the letters. And cattle thieving’s a felony, you know. Those are your confessions. On the way here, we stopped and saw the Sheriff and promised him we’d bring you both in tonight. Wouldn’t do to break a promise, would it?”

Conway groaned and Mevis looked like he was going to faint.

“Let’s go, gentlemen,” said Kid Curry, brandishing his gun.

Later when he told the story, Heyes would say that this moment was the closest he ever came to being a sheepherder.

As they rode into town, the Kid fell further and further behind until he wasn’t with them anymore. About a mile from town, he met up with Clu McPherson, who was waiting for him as agreed. The Kid handed him the money and told him to disburse $500 to each rancher, including himself, and to give the remaining $500 to Jim Rangel later. Handover of the money in this fashion was to ensure that the Kid would have nothing on him if Conway or Mevis said they had been robbed. Even though, under the circumstances, it was unlikely they would say anything.

Since there were now signed confessions, the Kid said it was all right to tell the ranchers all the good news. Hope was finally possible!

Kid Curry was waiting for Heyes, Conway and Mevis when they arrived. Jim Rangel was by his side, smiling as always. The Sheriff was there, too, and locked the prisoners in one of the cells. Heyes and his friends lingered for a while (away from the wanted posters) to answer any of the Sheriff’s questions. When Conway shouted from his cell for the Sheriff to open his lazy eyes because he was in the presence of three notorious outlaws, the Sheriff turned to his prisoners and said, “What outlaws?”

Conway pointed. “That one’s John Wesley Hardin!”

“Just a gunslinger,” drawled the Sheriff. “Not wanted by the law.”

“Well, that one’s Jim Rangel!”

“Same.”

“Well, Sheriff, that one is Curly Bill Brocius! Now I know he’s wanted.”

“You’re right,” said the Sheriff, realizing for the first time that Stoney Conway was nothing but a blowhard. “Wanted for cattle rustling. Takes one to know one, huh?”

Conway puffed his chest out. “Well, arrest him, Sheriff!”

“Can’t! Brocius was killed earlier this year by Sheriff Earp.”

The Sheriff gave the letters back to Heyes, who delivered them to the attorney the next morning.

When the Kid visited the Sheriff that afternoon, he was surprised to see Frick and Frack in the next cell. Conway, the Kid discovered, mistakenly believed he would be set free by implicating his two employees who had actually done the cattle rustling. Kid Curry spent a few moments enjoying the threats aimed at their former employer by his ex-goons.

* * *

The court case came up fairly quickly, with thirteen plaintiffs in a joint lawsuit. Overwhelming evidence was brought up and the defendants could not produce a good defense, so the judge ruled even better than Heyes and Curry had hoped – on the basis of the signed confessions, the two criminals were ordered to short prison terms, and then more prison terms would likely be tacked on based on their other illegal activities. Since Conant had already done a lot of investigation work, the judge ruled that the county would hire him as prosecutor, thus saving Heyes the expense of paying him, something he was wondering how he was going to manage.

The judge also ordered the thirteen ranchers could take possession of their ranches immediately, homes, land, and any remaining cattle of theirs that Stoney had not sold. Jim Rangel had moved on to his next job, but Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry stuck around to help Clu McPherson move back into his old ranch house. With as little as Clu now owned, one wagonload was all it took.

Curry, and especially Heyes, were overwhelmed by memories when they walked in the door. It was, of course, nothing compared to what Clu was remembering.

They hovered just inside the door, feeling a little bit like intruders as they watched him walking through the rooms obviously remembering happier times, touching some of the larger pieces of furniture that he hadn’t been able to take with him when he left, each one with its own particular memory of his and Betsy’s life there.

Curry glanced across at Heyes, seeing in his eyes the same feelings he was experiencing - sadness for what Clu, and Betsy too, had suffered, mixed with pride at having been instrumental in getting his ranch back for him. It would never replace Betsy’s loss, but at least Clu could spend the rest of his days back in the home they’d built together and where they had shared the happiest years of their lives.

Heyes met Curry’s eyes and they exchanged a sad smile.

Clu approached them, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

“Boys… I can never thank you enough for what you’ve done…” He shook his head, still amazed at how they’d pulled it off.

Curry saw Heyes swallow down the lump that had risen in his throat and put on his cheeriest smile, to say, “We’re glad we were able to help you… and all the other ranchers...”

“We’ve met people like Conway before,” Curry put in, seeing that Heyes was struggling to maintain his composure. “It was a pleasure to bring him down, Mevis too.”

Clu nodded and then gave a happy sigh, glancing around the room again, obviously overjoyed to have his home back.

“Let’s have a drink… I have some whisky in one of those boxes…”

Heyes and Curry exchanged anxious glances.

Seeing their expressions he said, “Oh, don’t worry, boys, I’m not going back to that life again. No, this drink is just a celebration… “

He delved into one of the boxes that they’d carried in with them and pulled out a bottle of whisky and three glasses. Pouring out three generous measures, he handed them each a glass before picking up his own.

“Thank you, boys. But for you I would never have seen this place again…” He broke off, choked by emotion, before drawing himself up to raise his glass in the air. “To the future.” He smiled.

Curry and Heyes exchanged a knowing look.

“I’ll drink to that,” Heyes agreed.

“Me too,” grinned Curry.

They clinked glasses and drank the whisky, Clu looking at them curiously.

“Speaking of the future, what do you boys plan to do now?” he enquired.

Heyes and Curry exchanged uncertain glances.

“I could do with a hand to get unpacked and get this place up and running again,” Clu suggested, seeing their hesitant expressions.

“Well, it’s not that we wouldn’t like to stay and help you,” said Heyes, glancing across at Curry, “but we really should be on our way…”

Curry looked at him with a feeling of déjà vu. Heyes was doing it again, running away.

Heyes gave him a pleading look, obviously looking for backup, but this time, Curry wasn’t going to.

“That’s a shame,” said Clu. “It’s almost Christmas; it would be nice to have other people in the house to share it with.”

Heyes shot Curry another pleading look.

Curry ignored it. “I guess it would,” he said to Clu, refusing to meet Heyes’ eyes.

“But we really do have to be going,” Heyes said firmly.

Clu sighed. “Of course,” he conceded. “I understand.” Then, moving to pour out three more drinks, he said, “Well, let’s have one more drink for the road, shall we?”

“Just one,” said Heyes as Clu handed them their glasses.

“Well then,” he began, eyeing them both intently. “Let’s have a toast to… old friends, shall we… Jed…?” He looked at Curry, “and Han…?” He switched his gaze to Heyes.

For a moment it didn’t sink in. Then they looked at each other, and then at Clu.

“Or should I say Curry and Heyes?” Clu raised a questioning eyebrow.

“How…?” Curry stammered, while Heyes just stared at him, a mixture of emotions visible on his face.

Clu’s face broke into a smile. “I’ve known who you are for a while.”

“But… how?” Heyes said now. He thought they’d been so careful not to reveal their identities.

“Oh, little things,” smiled Clu. He looked at Heyes. “I spotted that book I gave you, when you were going through your things for something, and, when you were chopping up those bricks… I saw those scars from the cat attack.”

Heyes lowered his eyes, feeling embarrassed that Clu knew, not only who he was, but what he had since become.

“And I overheard you talking together, times when you thought I was asleep, or not within earshot.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Curry asked now.

Clu shrugged. “I was waiting to see if you were going to tell me yourselves.”

Heyes and Curry exchanged anxious glances.

“Don’t worry, boys, your secret’s safe with me. I don’t know how you got into outlawin’ – and I don’t want to know – but however it was, I don’t think it was with any bad intentions?” He looked at them questioningly. “The boys who stayed with me all those years ago were better than that.”

“You’re right.” Curry nodded. “It was just a case of… surviving, any way we could.”

Clu nodded, sympathetically. If they’d stayed at his ranch, their lives could have been very different, but he didn’t say that. It was obvious they knew it.

“But, we’re trying to go straight and get amnesty,” Heyes said now. It mattered to him that Clu didn’t think of them as bad men.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it, boys. I wish you every success.”

They finished off their drinks in companionable silence.

Presently, Heyes said, “We were sorry to hear about Betsy. She was a lovely lady, and very good to us. To me,” he added, remembering how she’d taken care of him after the cat attack.

Clu nodded. “She was, and she’d be so happy that you got the ranch back for me. It broke her heart having to leave here.” After a moment he said, “It broke her heart when you left the way you did, too. She was very fond of you two.”

Heyes looked at the floor, a flush of embarrassment coming to his cheeks.

“That was wrong of us,” Curry spoke for Heyes now, “but we were just kids, we couldn’t think of a way to tell you without hurting your feelings, especially after you’d been so good to us. We knew, the longer we stayed the harder it would be for us to say we were leaving.”

Clu nodded, still not sure why they had felt the need to just up and leave the way they had.

“It was my doing,” Heyes said suddenly. “Our families were killed in the border wars and we were in an orphanage for a time… Might as well have been a prison,” he said bitterly. “After that, I wanted… needed… freedom, to go where I please, when I please and do what I want to do, with no one there to tell me it’s forbidden.”

He raised his eyes to Clu’s now. “I didn’t know how to convey that feeling back then, so we just ran away. I’m sorry.”

Clu put a hand on his shoulder, realizing that the decision to run away had weighed on his conscience in the years since. It also explained why he had been so hostile towards Clu when he’d first met them, suspicious of anyone who might want to curtail that freedom or make his decisions for him.

“I understand,” he told him.

Heyes gave him a sorrowful smile.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Clu said, “Are you sure you won’t stay for Christmas? You’re very welcome.”

“Thanks, but we really do need to be going,” Heyes lied. They weren’t headed anywhere in particular, but he knew if they stayed, leaving again would be just as hard as before.

Clu sighed. “Well, all right, but promise you’ll visit next time you’re in these parts?”

“You can be sure of it,” said Curry.

They headed outside and shook hands with Clu before mounting their horses.

“Thanks again, boys, and Merry Christmas,” smiled Clu.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” said Heyes.

Curry tipped his hat and then they turned their horses and rode away without a backward glance.

They paused at the top of a ridge a short distance away and turned to look back at the ranch, as they had done on the night they’d left before.

Curry studied Heyes’ face.

“Are you satisfied now?” he asked presently.

“Huh?” Heyes looked puzzled.

“I know it’s bothered you, all these years, the way we ran out on them.”

Heyes didn’t reply.

“And I know it bothered you that he gave us Christmas presents and we didn’t have nothing to give back.”

Still Heyes said nothing.

“You’ve just given him the best Christmas present he’s had in years… his home back. You don’t need to beat yourself up over it anymore.”

“But…” Heyes began, his mind full of what-ifs. What if they’d stayed, back then? Would they have been able to prevent Clu losing the ranch? Maybe even Betsy wouldn’t have died if they’d stayed, and maybe they wouldn’t have fallen into outlawing if they’d had jobs and a place at the ranch to call home.

Curry held up his hand. “Enough!” he said, knowing exactly the thoughts that were going through his friend’s mind. “You can’t save the world, Heyes, however much you might want to. Let it go.”

Heyes met his friend’s eyes and swallowed down the next ‘but’ that he’d been about to voice, knowing he was right, but still finding it hard to accept.

They turned, for one last look at the ranch before heading off into the fast approaching evening - to where, who knew? It didn’t really matter, as long as they were together.

-oo00oo-

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