[August 2022]
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 14,276
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Warnings: None
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RUBY
by
Goldie and
Eleanor Ward
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Heyes and Curry visit a sick friend and find themselves on a quest to
find the one person who might be able to cure him.
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With thanks to Goldie for browbeating me into putting pen to paper
to co-write this story. Definitely wouldn't have done it without you.
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* * *
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“Oh no!” Hannibal Heyes’s voice was soft but intense. He let his hands with the telegram drop to his lap as he stared off into space.
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Kid Curry set down his comb and turned away from the mirror. “Bad news?”
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“Yeah, Kid. Here.” Heyes held out the telegram for his partner to grab. The Kid read it and sat slowly down on the bed. “This is bad, Heyes,” he said, just as softly. “Wish there was something we could do. We’re just so damn far away!”
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Heyes sighed. “I know.”
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They were both deeply in thought for a moment. Then the Kid said, “How long do you think it would take for us to get there?”
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Heyes was only mildly surprised. “Carson City to San Francisco? A number of days, Kid! We’d have to cross the lake, and then there’s the mountains . . . “
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“Let’s do it, Heyes! Let’s go to Soapy’s! We owe it to him.”
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“I agree, Kid, but he might be dead by the time we get there. Then we’d feel even worse than we do now.”
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“I couldn’t feel much worse than I do now. I think we owe it to him to at least try to get there so we can see him before he . . . you know. He’s done a lot for us.”
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“We’ve done a lot for each other, don’t forget. And I thought you wanted to take a few days to rest up at this hotel in Carson City. What if we make that journey and he’s already . . . “
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“I did. And so did you, I know. But you know as well as I do, Heyes, that we’re going to go see Soapy, so what the hell are we doing still sitting around here?”
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Hannibal Heyes allowed a small smile. “All right, let’s get our stuff together. Kid, you’re a very wise man.” He began to pack his belongings in his saddlebag. “Also annoying.”
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* * *
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The steamer that Heyes and Curry chose to cross Lake Tahoe was the earliest one available, but they were pleasantly surprised by the comfort and convenience it offered. The crossing took only a couple of hours but during this time they had the opportunity to sit in cushioned chairs or walk around the spacious deck or stand at a bar that offered drinks at reduced prices. They chose to do all three as they were anxious about their friend. When they had settled in to two in a group of lounge chairs, Heyes pulled out the telegram again, the first time since they’d received it.
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He read it and just shook his head sadly.
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The Kid noticed and said, “The doctor can’t figure out what it is, huh?”
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“No. Soapy’s valet just says ‘constant medical care but sinking fast.’ It’s a damn shame, Kid.”
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“I know. At least there’s one good thing. At least his man knew where to find us to let us know. That was a good idea of yours, Heyes, to telegraph Soapy last week to tell him we were going to vacation in Nevada a few days before heading to California. Otherwise his man would never have been able to find us to tell us.”
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Heyes smiled sadly. “Not much of a vacation, was it? One night.”
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The Kid didn’t answer.
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Heyes looked off at nothing for a while before speaking again. “There’s another good thing, Kid. Soapy had a good life. A real good life. Maybe it’s time for him to move on, but I bet he’s got no regrets. And we’re lucky we knew him.”
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“Yeah, I was thinking about that. I was remembering how we met.” The Kid smiled.
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“Those were good days, our early days. I was thinking about it, too. Remember when . . . ?”
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Heyes didn’t get a chance to finish his thought because two men and a woman pointed to the three chairs next to them and one of the men said, “Mind if we join you? These look empty.”
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Heyes was piqued at having his thoughts interrupted. He looked around and saw there were no other empty deck chairs before answering grudgingly. “Free country.”
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“Thanks, pal.” The man assisted the woman to sit and then the two men also sat. Apparently they were in a talkative mood, because he held out his hand for Heyes to shake and introduced himself. “I’m Cornelius Radde and this is my wife Carolyn.” Then other man leaned forward with his hand and said, “And I’m Wayne Libman, Carrie’s older - and much wiser - brother!” They all laughed.
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Heyes was certainly not in a sociable mood, but he had to laugh at their self-assurance and clear enjoyment of life. He decided it would be in his best interests to let their positive attitude affect his own. He looked over at the Kid, who nodded to him. As always, they were on the same wavelength.
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Heyes smiled graciously. “It’s good to meet . . . “
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“Hey!” Cornelius said. “You gents are out of liquor!” He stood. “What are you drinking? On me!”
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When Heyes and Curry hesitated, Wayne said, “You’d better take him up on it! He’s usually a real skinflint!” The two men took a swipe at each other and the woman laughed happily.
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“Whatever you’re having is fine with us,” Heyes said.
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As Cornelius started to walk away, Carolyn called, “I’ll take another one, too, darling. I think a nice red this time.”
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Cornelius waved and called, “You got it!” and headed for the bar.
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“Are you folks just out for an afternoon’s boat ride, or are you heading somewhere?” Carolyn asked. She seemed genuinely interested and Heyes was inclined to tell her everything. But everything was a little too sad to discuss with strangers, so he just said, “We’re heading to San Francisco.”
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“Oh, what a small world! That’s where we live – my husband and I. We came to Nevada to visit my brother and now we’ve convinced him to return and visit with us for a while!” She smiled back at him.
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Wayne laughingly said, “My sister tells me there’s a lake bigger than Tahoe where she lives. She calls it the Pacific Ocean! I’m going to have to come see something like that for myself!” They both laughed heartily. Heyes and the Kid found they were enjoying the mindless giddiness.
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When the drinks arrived, they thanked Cornelius for his generosity and gratefully accepted them. He also brought a plate of snacks, including small sandwiches.
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Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry enjoyed spending the next half hour talking with the three other people as the flow of the conversation was carefree and cheerful and allowed them to forget about their dying friend. However, when Carolyn innocently asked them what they planned to do in San Francisco, it all came crashing back.
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Without thinking, the Kid said, “We’re going to visit a sick friend. Hopefully before he dies!” Heyes glared at him.
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“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry,” Carolyn said genuinely. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”
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“His doctor doesn’t know,” the Kid continued. “He picked up some disease and can’t shake it.”
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Wayne shook his head. “Doctors just don’t know enough, it seems. Such a shame. How old is he?”
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Heyes and Curry looked at each other. “Not sure exactly,” Heyes said, “but he’s elderly. And not a strong man, either. We’re going to have to get there as soon as we can.”
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Carolyn said, “I just had a thought. I’ve heard of a woman in San Francisco who can heal sick people. You know – people who don’t respond to medicine or anything. Honey, remember we were talking about her the other day? What was her name?”
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Her husband looked blank for a minute, then shook his head. “Oh! You mean Ruby! She’s well-known in San Fran. Got a reputation as a sorceress. Does white magic, heals sick people for money.”
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“That’s it!” Carolyn said. “Why don’t you hire her when you get there?”
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“Uh . . . “ Heyes couldn’t hide his skepticism.
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“Forget it!” Cornelius said. “That’s nothing but a scam. Woman who claims to be a sorceress! There’s no such thing as witches! You’re better off giving your friend comfort rather than false hope!”
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* * *
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In no time at all, it seemed, the two-hour trip across the lake was completed. Heyes and Curry bid the Raddes and Libman farewell and headed towards the exit. After disembarking, they picked up a couple of horses and headed off towards the lumber town of Truckee, a few miles north, where they intended to pick up supplies for the remainder of their journey to San Francisco.
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On arrival at Truckee, the Kid pointed out the town’s hotel and suggested they stay overnight before pressing on with their journey. But Heyes thought it would be better to head right on rather than waste time staying in town, and make camp along the way. While he would have preferred a bed to sleep in and a restaurant-cooked meal instead of camp food, the Kid had to agree that time was of the essence if they were to hope to reach San Francisco before Soapy’s demise, and reluctantly followed him to the Mercantile.
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An hour later they were leaving Truckee behind. It was early afternoon and they figured they’d make fifteen or twenty miles before sundown.
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“They seemed like nice people, the Raddes,” the Kid said as they trotted along, “Wayne, too.”
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“Yeah. Nice of them to buy us drinks.”
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“Cornelius didn’t seem overly impressed by that Ruby woman that Carolyn suggested Soapy should see.”
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“I’m with him. There ain’t no such thing as witches and sorceresses. It’s all hogwash.”
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The Kid eyed him. “Maybe, maybe not.”
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“Oh, come on, Kid, you don’t really believe all that black magic stuff, do you?”
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The Kid shrugged. “All I know is, if you were sick, at death’s door… if I thought someone like that could save you, I’d certainly give it a try.”
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Heyes eyed him curiously. “You would?”
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The Kid nodded. When Heyes said nothing more, he turned to look at him. “Wouldn’t you? If it was the other way around?”
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Heyes, whose gaze was now fixed on the trail ahead, turned slowly to meet his eyes. After a long moment, he said, “I guess I would.”
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The Kid grinned.
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* * *
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As the sun dipped towards the horizon, Heyes and the Kid made camp for the night in a clearing amongst the pine trees that seemed to be the main feature of this part of the country.
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After picketing the horses, they built a fire and put on a pot of coffee before cooking themselves a meal.
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They ate in silence for a while before Heyes said, “What'ya thinkin’?” having noticed the Kid’s somewhat preoccupied mood.
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The Kid sighed. “I was just thinking back to when we first met Soapy, you know - when we were in jail?”
Heyes nodded.
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“How old were we then?”
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Heyes thought for a moment before saying, “I think I was about seventeen or so, so you’d be fifteen, sixteen… I can’t even recall now what it was we got busted for,” he added with a wry grin.
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Me neither,” said Curry. “But I do remember Soapy taking us under his wing and looking out for us.”
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Heyes nodded.
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“I don’t remember what he was in jail for, do you?”
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“Not really. Some kind of pyramidal soap scheme, I think.”
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The Kid nodded. “You came up with that scheme to get us and him out of jail, which worked great, except that with Soapy being older and slower than us he got caught. And then we had to go back again the next night and break him out.”
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Heyes gave a wry grin. “I remember. And you got winged by a bullet when the guards tried to shoot us, and Soapy took us in and looked after us until you’d recovered.”
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They fell silent for a few moments as they each thought back over those events.
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Presently the Kid said, “You know how we stayed with him for a while afterwards, and he taught us the flim-flam business, before we decided to part company with him because we thought robbing banks would be less complicated and more profitable?”
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“Yeah.”
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“Do you think that was a mistake?”
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“A mistake?”
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The Kid shrugged. “Yeah. You know – ditching him for train and bank robbing. Soapy did very well out of the flim-flam business. I mean, look at that huge house he has in Frisco, and he’s rolling in money. And, more importantly, he’s never had posses chasing him or had to worry about getting killed every time he pulled a con. Maybe we’d have done better to have stuck with him and learned the business properly. Maybe we could be living in luxury like him now if we had, instead of roaming around like gypsies trying to avoid getting caught and spending twenty years in jail… or worse.”
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“If we hadn’t broke him out of jail back then, he might have been in there for a long time,” Heyes pointed out. “And the fact that he even got caught at all shows that even a con-man as accomplished as Soapy isn’t guaranteed not to get conned himself sometimes.”
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The Kid sighed. “I guess. It just seems like he’s done so well in life, off the back of his crimes, while we’re living like paupers in the hope of getting amnesty for ours. It don’t seem fair somehow.”
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“You’re right,” agreed Heyes. “It doesn’t. But for all his wealth, Soapy’s still had to lead a false life to a degree, to avoid being tracked down. I’m not even sure if Soapy Saunders is his real name, or just one of many aliases he’s lived under over the years. Do you want to have to live like that for the rest of your life? Having to keep moving around from place to place, and changing your name every few months in case anyone makes a connection to you? I don’t know about you, but I hate living as Joshua Smith. I want to be able to use my real name and not be afraid, every time I say it, that it’s going to land me in prison for the rest of my life.” He shook his head. “The only way we can have any kind of real future is by getting amnesty.”
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“I hear where you’re coming from, Heyes, but what if we don’t get it in the end? What then, huh?”
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Heyes met his friend’s anxious gaze. That was something he didn’t want to consider. Even though he too was somewhat skeptical that the Governor would honour his promise, he had to hold onto the belief that they would get it in the end; otherwise what was the point in going on with it?
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He lowered his gaze and looked away, unwilling to give an answer. The Kid eyed him for a moment before doing the same.
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A few moments later, the Kid said, “I hope we make it to San Francisco in time.”
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Heyes nodded. “So do I.”
* * *
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After four days travel, they arrived in Sacramento, where they boarded a stage to speed their arrival to San Francisco. Both were worried that the journey was taking too much time. Time Soapy might not have.
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The stagecoach was the quickest mode of transportation for this particular route, but to Heyes and Curry it still seemed an interminably long trip. It made several stops along the way, sometimes picking up new riders and sometimes dropping off passengers, but when the two of them found themselves alone in the coach, their speech invariably centered around Soapy and their long-standing relationship with him.
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They both felt very bad about the likelihood that Soapy would die soon, if he had not succumbed already, and that thought was enough to depress them. Whenever the Kid found Heyes staring out the window mournfully at nothing, he put his hand on Heyes’s shoulder and forced a smile for him. And later when Heyes saw the Kid closing his eyes tightly to stop the pain, he said something to cheer up his partner. This worked to help keep their emotions in check, but by the time they disembarked in San Francisco, the inevitable meeting was suddenly just moments away. Heyes stood his ground while Curry hired a hansom cab.
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“Come on, Joshua!” the Kid called from the cab.
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Heyes looked up. “I don’t think I can do this, Kid,” he said softly.
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Kid Curry did not get angry; he understood. He told the cabbie to wait and left the cab to head for his friend. He put his hands on Heyes’s shoulders and looked him right in the eyes. They merely looked at each other for a short while; then the Kid said, “I don’t think I can do this either, Heyes. So let’s not do this together, OK?”
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They knew each other very well and an understanding passed between them. Heyes smiled just a little; he knew that neither relished facing their dying friend. “Let’s go to Soapy’s, Kid.”
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* * *
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It took three doorbell rings before Soapy’s valet, Johnson, answered the door. It could have taken this long for any number of reasons, but of course they thought the worst. When Johnson answered the door he looked quite haggard, but when he recognized them the look of relief on his face was obvious.
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“He’s still alive!” was the first thing he said.
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“Take us to him,” said the Kid. Johnson made no effort to take their hats or make them feel welcome. He merely said “Follow me” and hastily led them upstairs to a lavish bedroom. Only Heyes had the presence of mind to close the front door. Or perhaps he was unconsciously putting off the encounter a few more seconds.
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An emaciated-looking elderly man was lying in the opulent bed. Thick expensive-looking quilts and bedcovers were lying off to the side and he was covered to the waist only by a thin cotton blanket. His face was reddish and his hands were white. His bedclothes were soaked and sticking to him. Clearly Soapy was fighting a high fever and it looked to them like he had been doing so for some time already.
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“Soapy!” cried Hannibal Heyes, and ran to his old friend’s side. Kid Curry was right behind him. Heyes sat on the chair next to the bed and grabbed one of Soapy’s hands but the old man gave no sign that he was aware of anyone near him.
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“He’s asleep. Or maybe unconscious,” said Johnson wearily. “He’s been drifting in and out for days. Most of the time he doesn’t know who I am, and he never seems to recognize the doctor at all. The doctor is due here soon; He is a friend of Soapy’s and comes several times a day. In fact, I thought you might have been him.” As if on cue, the doorbell rang again and Johnson hurried out of the room.
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“Soapy,” Heyes gently urged. “Can you hear me? It’s Heyes. And the Kid. Can you hear us?” Heyes felt Soapy’s forehead and pulled his hand away quickly. “He’s burning up, Kid! I’ve never seen anyone this sick!”
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“Poor guy,” the Kid said simply. He put his hand on Heyes’s shoulder.
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“Soapy,” Heyes continued to plead. “We’re here. Can you hear us?”
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Soapy turned his head side to side and groaned. He was clearly uncomfortable.
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At this point, Johnson ushered the doctor into the room. As soon as the doctor spotted them, he said, “Get away from the patient! Who are you?”
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“This is Dr. Hathaway,” Johnson introduced.
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Heyes stood and held out his hand but the doctor refused to shake it. They noticed the medical man was wearing gloves. And it was far from cold in the room.
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“I’m Thaddeus Jones,” said the Kid. “And this is Joshua Smith. We’re very old friends of Soapy’s.”
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“Well,” said the doctor as he set his bag on the chair and opened it, “if you want to live to be very old – period! – you’ll step off to the side. This man is most likely highly contagious.”
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Heyes didn’t care as much about that comment as the Kid did but they both acquiesced and sat on the other side of the room. They watched an experienced well-educated medical man at work and marveled at the gentle care he applied to their friend. They listened as the doctor gave instructions to Johnson – change the clothes again, change the bedding first thing tomorrow, administer this medicine in the morning and this other medicine every four hours, continue the cold compresses on his head and neck, etc. etc. You’re very young and I think you’ll be safe, but if you experience any of these symptoms yourself, summon me at the first sign, understand?
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He closed his bag, sighed, and walked over to Heyes and Curry. “Gentlemen, I’m sorry to be so abrupt. Soapy is a friend of mine, too. I merely want you to have as little exposure to him as possible. I haven’t been able to identify this relentless disease of his, but until I know for certain what it is, I have to assume it’s contagious.”
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“How long has he been ill?” Heyes asked.
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“I’m not sure,” the doctor replied. “Quite some time. He didn’t call me in when he first started experiencing symptoms – you know Soapy – but when he became delirious occasionally, Johnson went against Soapy’s wishes and called for me. I’m very glad he did! But unfortunately I have not been able to identify what this relentless disease is that is causing Soapy’s fever to spike so high. It’s not scarlet fever, or typhoid or yellow fever, or anything in my knowledge. It’s probably a new strain. All I can do is treat the symptoms and try to make him comfortable, until something works.”
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“Maybe he should be in a hospital,” said the Kid.
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“I did send him to the hospital, but when he was lucid, he complained and wanted to be sent home. They couldn’t do anything for him there either, so I allowed it.”
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They all turned to watch Johnson tenderly administering to his boss, slowly removing his nightshirt and replacing it with a clean dry one, then replacing the sweat-soaked pillow with another. The doctor sighed again. “I worry about him – I worry about both of them. That young man will probably be strong enough to fight off this disease should he contract it, but Soapy – he is old and so fragile. . . “ He shook his head again and walked to the bedroom door. “Gentlemen,” he addressed Heyes and Curry, “my advice to you is to keep a safe distance. If you insist on remaining and Soapy becomes lucid, try to make him understand his friends are here. But I strongly suggest you take your leave.” He nodded and left.
Heyes and the Kid gave each other sorrowful looks but said nothing. They waited for Johnson to finish administering to his boss. The young man sighed heavily; it was clear he hadn’t had much time to rest in the last few days, maybe even weeks.
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Kid Curry stood and indicated that Johnson should sit in the chair instead. “Relax,” said the Kid.
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“Thanks,” Johnson replied, wiping his brow. “I’m a little tired, I guess.”
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Heyes patted his arm. “I don’t wonder. Looks like you’ve been doing a lot for Soapy. Does anyone help you?”
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“There’s a nurse who comes in during the nights so I can sleep, and then she leaves in the morning. But she told me she wouldn’t be in tonight due to a prior engagement. It’s only one night – I can sleep right here in this chair. Then I can hear Mr. Saunders when he wakes up.”
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“When he wakes up?”
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“He’s been drifting in and out the last week or so. Mostly he sleeps – or maybe he’s unconscious – but when he wakes up, I try to get some food and water into him. He tries to talk but most of the time he can’t and even when he does, what he says doesn’t make much sense.”
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The Kid patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about tonight, Johnson. My friend and I will stay with Soapy so you don’t have to. You go ahead and get a good night’s rest.”
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Johnson looked back and forth between them. “Are you sure? I mean – it is my job.”
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“We’re sure.” Heyes tried to give him a little smile. The last few times they’d visited Soapy, Johnson had been his valet. That meant he’d already been with Soapy for a few years, but he didn’t look much older than 23 or 24. Heyes knew Soapy must have taken him in as a teenager – just like he’d done with the Kid and himself.
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“Before you go, Johnson, do you have any idea what might have caused this infection in Soapy?”
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“I think I do,” said Johnson, surprising both of them. “Just before he got sick, Mr. Saunders met an old friend for lunch down in the docks area. It was only a day or two afterward that he started feeling ill, and then his temperature went up. I stay away from that area – there are ships coming in from all over the world and who knows what kind of diseases they can bring with them! And it’s a rough area, anyhow. Mr. Saunders should never have visited there.”
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“Do you know who he met down there?” Heyes asked.
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“He didn’t say. Someone he used to do ‘business’ with years ago. They’re both retired, but enjoy getting together occasionally to discuss old times.”
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The Kid looked at his partner. “Why do you want to know that?”
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“Oh, it’s probably not important,” Heyes said. “I just thought if we knew who it was, we could find out if he got sick, also. And maybe he knows what this bug is.”
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“Probably not,” said Johnson. “People who work in that area get sick all the time. Mr. Saunders is just so much older and frailer than those dock workers. I fear for him. I fear for him something awful! If you can think of anything that can help save him . . .!” Johnson looked at them both with mournful eyes, then thanked them politely for taking his watch and left for his own room.
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Heyes sighed deeply. “Kid, I just don’t know what we’re going to do. None of the medicine the doc has given Soapy seems to be working. Nothing’s working!”
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Kid Curry shook his head. “I know. It’s just so . . . Heyes!” Heyes started at the sound of his name and followed his friend’s gaze. The Kid was looking at Soapy.
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Who was looking back at him.
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“Soapy!” Heyes called. He rushed to the old man’s bedside. “Soapy, it’s us – Heyes and the Kid. Do you recognize us?”
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Soapy was very weak and seemed to be having trouble even focusing on them, but Heyes believed he saw some recognition in the old man’s eyes.
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“H . . . H. . .” Soapy tried to say.
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“Here,” said the Kid. “Let’s give him some water.”
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Curry placed a pillow behind Soapy and helped hold him up. The sick man hardly weighed anything, thought the Kid. Heyes carefully held the glass to Soapy’s lips and made sure some of the water hit the mark. Soapy nodded gratefully and the Kid placed him back in a lying position again. Soapy closed his eyes and they thought he was going to sleep again.
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But in a moment, Soapy opened his eyes and looked straight at them. “H . . . Heyes? K . . . Kid?” He said more, but it was garbled and they couldn’t understand.
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“Yeah, it’s us, Soapy. We’re here,” said Curry.
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Soapy suddenly seemed to get agitated and reached out his hand to Heyes, who grabbed it. “Take it easy,” Heyes said.
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“Dy . . . dying . . .“ Soapy seemed very upset and wasn’t able to say many words they understood. “Dying” was not one they wanted to hear.
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“Now don’t say that,” said the Kid. “You’re just . . . “
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Soapy interrupted him with one last attempt to tell them something. “Ruby!” he said. The effort put into that single word apparently exhausted him and he collapsed back onto the pillow. Fearing for his friend, Heyes felt his pulse, but Soapy was still alive and merely sleeping.
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Heyes and the Kid stepped to the other side of the room.
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“I think sleep is the best thing for him, Kid,” said Heyes. “Maybe us, too. We can take turns watching over him. You want the first watch or do you want to sleep first?”
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The Kid wasn’t paying attention to his friend. “What do you suppose he meant by ‘Ruby,’ Heyes?”
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“I don’t know, Kid. Probably nonsense, like Johnson said.”
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“Maybe not. Think back to when we were on that boat and those people who lived here were talking about a woman named Ruby?”
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“Yeah, so?”
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“They said there’s a woman who lives in San Francisco whose name is Ruby and she’s well-known for healing people who can’t be healed normally.”
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“Oh, come on, Kid!”
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“They said she’s a witch or something – I can’t remember exactly what they said – but she can fix sick people. She’s got special powers or something.”
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“No one has special powers! Not even the doctor, apparently, because he can’t seem to heal Soapy.” Heyes’s little flare-up at his friend’s silliness disappeared when he looked back over at Soapy.
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“That’s right, Heyes, he can’t. At least he hasn’t found anything yet that has worked. But you’re not thinking, Heyes!”
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Now Heyes felt pique at his partner. No one calls Hannibal Heyes a non-thinker! “And I suppose you are?” he said sarcastically.
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“I may not have your great brain, Heyes, but I’ve got an idea floating around in my head that I don’t think has occurred to you yet!”
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“If it’s about that witch woman, you can forget it!”
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“No, it’s not. Look at Soapy, Heyes, just look at him. What do you see?”
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Heyes was lost. “I see an old friend who is at death’s door, and there’s nothing anyone can do for him.”
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“And how long has he been sick now?”
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“I don’t know. He was sick before the doctor was called in, and then Johnson notified us, and it took us a while to get
here . . . “
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“That’s right! Soapy’s been sick for two or three weeks already. He looks like he’s at ‘death’s door,’ like you said, but if he’s been that sick for so long, he’s got to be a lot stronger than we’re giving him credit for!”
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“Hmmm. Maybe you’re right. Soapy’s always had a knack for survival. But I still don’t see what you’re getting at, Kid.”
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“Everything the hospital and the doctor tried isn’t working. Soapy can’t hold on much longer if the right medicine isn’t found. But it’s like he’s trying to hold on, like he’s trying to wait long enough for the right thing to help him.”
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“And?”
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“Heyes! Soapy wants us to find this Ruby woman to help him! That’s what he wants, that’s what he said! He’s heard of her, too. I mean, he lives right here in San Francisco so he must have heard of her. He wants us to find her so she can help him!
​
Heyes stood staring worriedly at Soapy’s frail form as he considered Kid’s words. He didn’t believe in faith healers, white witches and such like. As far as he was concerned they were all quacks. But the doctor seemed at a loss to diagnose or cure Soapy’s illness so at this point he supposed it was worth trying to find this Ruby. He didn’t believe for one moment that she would be able to cure him but in the absence of any other solution they wouldn’t be losing anything by at least letting her try. Assuming they could find her, and that she was willing.
​
“All right,” he said now. “We’ll start looking in the morning.”
The Kid smiled, glad to have convinced him.
“Johnson said Soapy had lunch with an old friend down by the docks area a day or two before he got sick,” Heyes said quietly, as much to himself as Kid. “I guess that’s as good a place as any to start. We’ll go down there, ask questions, see what we can find out.”
“Good idea,” nodded the Kid. “Wanna toss for who takes first watch with Soapy tonight?”
Heyes shook his head. “I’m not tired. I’ll take first watch if you like.”
“O.K.” The Kid nodded agreement. “Do you suppose it’d be O.K. if I sleep in the room we stayed at last time we were here? It’s only a couple of doors down the hallway and not far for you to fetch me if you need to.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. Go. I’ll wake you in four hours.”
The Kid nodded and, with a last anxious look at Soapy’s comatose figure, left the room.
Heyes looked around the opulent bedroom, which was larger than most ordinary people’s houses. Apart from the large bed that Soapy was occupying, there was a tall chest of drawers on one wall, and a bank of wardrobes on the adjoining one. Heavy drapes hung at the windows on the opposite wall, in front of which a small writing desk and chair stood. An ottoman stood at the foot of the bed and in front of that a chaise lounge stood in the centre of the room on an ornate rug.
Heyes crossed to the chaise lounge and dragged it closer to the bed. After a brief search in the wardrobes he found a large blanket which he carried across to the chaise lounge. Rearranging the cushions at one end, to use as pillows, he folded the blanket to make himself a bed. He would be close enough here to hear Soapy if he woke.
Taking off his jacket and hat, which he laid on the ottoman, and pulling off his boots, which he stood on the floor in front of it, he sat down and studied Soapy’s pale face. His mind went back to his and Kid’s conversations on the journey here, to their friendship with Soapy, and in particular to the one where Kid had questioned whether abandoning Soapy and the flim-flam business in preference for train and bank robbing had been a mistake.
Soapy had been quite upset, he remembered, when they’d told him of their plans. He’d invested a lot of time and effort into teaching them his tricks and didn’t appreciate them walking out on him halfway through their ‘training.’ But, given that they had rescued him from a lengthy prison sentence, he’d pushed his anger and disappointment to one side and given them his blessing, telling them to come and see him if there was ever anything he could do to help them out.
They’d taken him up on his offer a few times in the years since, either to borrow money, or pick his brains, even persuading him to join them, once or twice, to help them out. He smiled to himself as he recalled the con he’d helped them pull on Grace Turner, after she’d turned the Kid in for the reward on his head. Yes, he’d been a good friend to them over the years, and they owed it to him to do what they could for him now.
After checking that Soapy was as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, Heyes settled himself on the chaise lounge and pulled the blanket around him.
As it turned out, he didn’t need to wake the Kid for his watch. The Kid woke first and quietly entered the bedroom. Heyes had turned the lamp down as low as it would go and so there was barely any light as he padded quietly across the room.
Heyes was fast asleep so the Kid chose not to disturb him and instead carefully carried the chair from the writing desk across to the other side of the bed and seated himself in it, reaching out to place the back of his hand to Soapy’s forehead to check his temperature. It was hot.
The doctor’s words about Soapy’s illness possibly being contagious came to his mind. Would they come down with whatever it was, he wondered? Well, the doctor hadn’t, Johnson hadn’t and nor, apparently, had the nurse who came in at nights. So hopefully he and Heyes wouldn’t either.
He kept watch over both Soapy and Heyes until, at eight o’clock, there was a tap at the door and Johnson entered to advise them that breakfast was waiting for them in the Dining Room.
“Thanks, Johnson,” smiled the Kid.
Heyes, hearing their voices, stirred, looking around him in confusion, having forgotten momentarily where they were.
“Did you sleep well?” the Kid asked Johnson.
“Yes, thank you. How is Mr. Saunders?”
“No change,” the Kid replied.
A frown came to Johnson’s brow as he approached the bed and began to tend to his employer.
The Kid turned to look at Heyes, who was pulling on his boots.
“Guess I was more tired than I thought,” Heyes remarked, in reference to him having slept right through and not awakened the Kid for his watch.
“Feel free to utilize the bathroom at the end of the hallway, to bathe and shave,” Johnson said somewhat distractedly, as he fussed over Soapy.
“Thank you,” muttered Heyes, as he followed the Kid downstairs to the Dining Room where the large ten-seater dining table had been set for two. A heated servery stood against one wall, containing dishes with bacon, eggs, biscuits, grits, oatmeal and even pancakes. A large pot of coffee stood on a trivet at the end.
After pouring coffee and loading up their plates with food, they seated themselves at the table and began to eat.
“Did Soapy wake up at all during the night?” the Kid asked as they ate.
“Not while I was awake,” replied Heyes. “I’m not sure when I fell asleep, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour before I was due to wake you. How about while you were watching him?”
The Kid shook his head.
“We need to find this Ruby woman as quickly as possible,” he said, as he forked bacon into his mouth. “I don’t know how much longer Soapy can hang on in his current state.”
Heyes nodded agreement. “We’ll get a hansom cab down to the docks as soon as we’re done eating.”
An hour later, washed, shaved and with full bellies, they headed upstairs to let Johnson know their plans.
“We’ll be back by nightfall,” Heyes told him.
Johnson nodded. “You take care. It’s pretty rough down there. Lots of dubious people around.”
“We will,” smiled the Kid, his hand subconsciously going to his gun.
Tipping their hats, they headed outside to hail a cab.
* * *
It took them the best part of an hour to reach the docks at Hunter’s Point.
The cab driver dropped them off and eagerly departed, not wanting to hang around.
Heyes and the Kid exchanged glances. They’d been to San Francisco a number of times, but they’d never ventured to the dock area before. Johnson hadn’t been kidding when he described it as rough, and there were indeed some dubious-looking characters wandering around.
“I’m glad we didn’t dress up,” muttered Heyes. People in Soapy’s district wore suits, as did they themselves whenever they came to visit him, but today they had worn their ordinary traveling clothes and even in those they felt somewhat overdressed.
There were a number of ships anchored, and pallets of goods stacked up along the dockside, either for loading onto ships or else having just been unloaded. Rough and ready looking dock workers milled about, some giving them sour looks as they passed by.
“I don’t somehow see Soapy having lunch hereabouts,” Heyes said presently. “I think we should head a bit further inland, away from the dockside.”
The Kid nodded, and they headed towards the outskirts of the docks where a number of businesses, storage warehouses, bars and cafés were situated.
They spent the morning asking questions, mentioning Soapy’s name in the hope that someone might have heard of him or seen him. But after a couple of hours they’d drawn a blank.
“I wish we knew the name of the friend he met and where they went to eat.” Heyes shook his head in frustration. “He might have been able to tell us where to find Ruby.”
The Kid nodded. “What say we get some lunch? There’s a café just back there aways.”
“May as well,” Heyes agreed.
They headed towards the café that was tucked away in a narrow side street.
As they turned into the street, four men appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Unbeknown to them, the men had quietly been trailing them for the last half hour. It had been obvious to the men, from the two strangers’ attire and behaviour, that they weren’t dockers or people involved in businesses related to the docks, but just a couple of greenhorns, and the men saw an opportunity to get themselves some free cash at others’ expense.
Sensing their presence, Heyes and the Kid turned around, Heyes already with a polite smile on his face, intending to try and talk their way out of whatever trouble these men might be bringing them, but before he could speak and before the Kid could even go for his gun, the four men pounced on them.
Heyes and the Kid did their best to fight back but they had little chance against these four burly dock workers.
Fists flew, in all directions. It would have been better for Heyes and the Kid if they hadn’t fought back, but it wasn’t in their nature to go down without a fight and so they had given their best.
Ten minutes later, the four men exited the street with satisfied looks on their faces, looking surreptitiously around to be sure nobody was watching before disappearing back to the dockside, leaving their victims bloodied and unconscious on the ground.
* * *
Kid Curry groaned and opened his eyes, screwing them shut again against the late afternoon sun that beamed in through the grubby window.
After a few moments he tried again, squinting against the glare. Where was he? Why did his head ache? And his jaw, and his ribs, his back, his arms, pretty much every part of him.
Slowly the memory came back to him. Those dock workers. They’d pounced on him and Heyes and beaten them to a pulp.
A sudden panic washed over him. Heyes! Where was he? With an effort he turned his head, groaning out loud at the movement, to see Heyes lying on an adjoining bed. Unconscious… or was he dead? The thought forced him to attempt to get up and go to him but gave up as a wave of pain washed over him.
“Heyes…?” he tried to call out to him, but his throat was so parched he couldn’t get out more than a croak.
He coughed, and cleared his throat, and tried again.
“Heyes? Can you hear me?”
No response.
He attempted to roll over onto his side, yelping at the pain from what felt like a couple of busted ribs.
“Heyes?” he called again. Still no response.
The Kid spent the next ten minutes trying to maneuver himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed before, unable to get to his feet, he dropped to his knees on the floor, grasping hold of the edge of the other bed to prevent himself from falling flat on his face.
“Heyes?” he called again, but still there was no response.
The Kid bent his head to Heyes’s chest, relieved when he felt a heartbeat.
He looked at his friend’s face. Bruises were forming on his jaw and cheek, his lip was split open and his nose bloodied. More worrying was a nasty cut to the side of his left eye near his temple, the eye swollen almost shut. The Kid sucked in a breath. This was probably responsible for his prolonged insensibility.
Like his own, Heyes’s knuckles were cut and bloody from the fight.
He looked around the room, wondering where they were and how they’d arrived here. It appeared to be a hotel room, but if it was, it was a fairly low-class establishment, the bed mattresses thin and the bed linen old and frayed, the window grimy and the curtains looking somewhat motheaten.
Next to the window was a shabby dresser with a cracked washbasin on top and an old mirror hung on the wall above it. But there was at least a pitcher of water, with a couple of glasses next to it.
The Kid struggled to his feet and, with an effort, staggered over to the dresser and poured some water into the basin.
Raising his head, be caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Like Heyes, dark bruises stood out on his face; there were scratches on his cheek and his lip was also split.
Glancing down, he suddenly realized that his gun wasn’t there. He grasped his empty holster with an angry growl, furious that they had taken his precious Colt. A glance across at Heyes showed his holster empty also.
“Bastards!” he growled, before feeling in his coat pocket for his money, only vaguely surprised to find it empty. “Bastards!” he repeated venomously.
He poured some water into the two glasses, and drank one himself before carrying the other and the basin of water across the room and placing them on the floor between the two beds.
Taking off his bandana, he dipped it in the basin of water and began to administer to Heyes’s wounds.
The cool water on his forehead roused Heyes somewhat and he rolled his head from side to side, groaning softly.
“Heyes? Heyes, wake up!”
Heyes half opened his eyes before lapsing back into semi-consciousness with a moan of pain.
“Heyes!” The Kid tried again. “Come on, open your eyes.”
Heyes tried again, squinting against the bright sunlight in the room and looking up at Curry in confusion.
“Wh-what… happened…?” he muttered some moments later.
“Those dock workers are what happened. They beat us to a pulp, took our guns and money,” replied the Kid as he dabbed at Heyes’s face, drawing a hiss of pain as he touched the open wound on his friend’s head.
Heyes stared up at the ceiling as he tried to remember. His head hurt and everything was fuzzy.
“Here, drink.” The Kid lifted Heyes’s head and put the glass of water to his lips. Heyes groaned at the movement but took a few sips of the water before turning his face away.
The Kid gently laid him back down.
“I’m guessing this is a hotel of sorts, but I don’t know how we got here,” he told him.
Heyes didn’t reply.
“I think I have a couple of busted ribs. How about you?” the Kid asked now.
“Dunno…” muttered Heyes, “feels like everything’s busted right now… My head hurts… and I feel sick...”
“You took quite a blow to the side of your head, so you probably have a concussion.”
Heyes tried to nod, but groaned as the pain in his head intensified, and closed his eyes.
“One thing’s for sure. We ain’t gonna make it back to Soapy’s tonight. Without money we can’t get a cab, or a cable car, back to his place and I doubt I could find my way back on foot even if we were up to walkin’, which we ain’t.”
“I’ve got some money… in my left boot…” muttered Heyes.
The Kid attempted a smile that turned into a grimace of pain. “That’s good to know, Heyes. Now, get some rest. We’ll worry about getting back to Soapy’s tomorrow.”
* * *
The Kid was awakened the next morning by the mournful sound of seagulls. He tentatively sat up, and checked himself over. His face was sore, and his ribs hurt like the devil, but he felt better than the previous day.
He glanced across at Heyes, who was still asleep, a frown creasing his brow.
The Kid struggled out of bed and bent to look underneath it, pleased to find a chamber pot. After using it, he splashed his face with water and tidied himself up as best he could and then ventured out to see where they were.
He went down a shabby staircase to the front desk, where an overweight man was sitting in a chair behind the desk, his nose stuck in a newspaper.
The man lowered the paper as he heard the Kid’s approach, and looked up at him.
“Back in the land of the living, eh?” he said, with a slightly amused look on his face.
“I take it you saw those men attack my friend and I?” the Kid asked.
The man nodded. “Sure did. They left ya out cold in the middle of the street. Being the good citizen that I am, I brung ya in and gave over one of my rooms fer ya t’rest up in.” He gave him what passed for a smile, which showed half of his teeth missing.
“That’s very kind of you, Mr…?”
“Carson. Emmet Carson. Room’ll be a dollar a night, payable on departure.”
The Kid stifled a snort. A good citizen, huh? he thought sourly, but kept his expression polite as he said, “Can we get breakfast?”
“Don’t have a restaurant on site. You can get your meals at the café down the street.”
The Kid sighed. “Can we get coffee at least? And some more water?”
Carson nodded. “Coffee and water we can do. I’ll get the maid to bring it up.”
“Thank you.”
The Kid returned to their room, and a few minutes later the maid arrived with a tray on which was a pot of coffee, two mugs, and another pitcher of water.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat on the bed to drink it.
It was another hour before Heyes began to stir, looking around the room like he’d never seen it before.
“Kid…” he muttered when he laid eyes on his friend.
The Kid smiled. “How’re you doing?”
“Wh-what happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I… I’m not sure… I remember those men…” he muttered.
The Kid frowned. That must have been some blow on the head, if he couldn’t remember their conversation yesterday.
“We got jumped by some dockworkers. They took our guns and money and left us unconscious in the street. The guy who owns this hotel brought us in, as a goodwill gesture – for a dollar a night,” he added sarcastically.
“Oh… yeah… I remember…”
The Kid poured coffee and crossed to help Heyes into a semi-sitting position so he could drink it, but Heyes was in too much pain to sit up.
“Let me look at you.” The Kid pulled up Heyes’s shirt and Henley to examine him, to find large black bruises on his stomach and back that resembled the shape of someone’s boot.
“Looks like they got a few kicks in,” he said to Heyes, who gave a vague nod.
“You could have kidney or liver damage. I think I’d better get a doctor to have a look at you.”
Heyes shook his head. “I’ll be all right. Just need to rest up a while.”
Before the Kid could answer, Heyes said, “I feel sick,” what little colour he had draining from his face.
The Kid hastily picked up the washbasin and crossed to the bed, perching on the edge of the bed and holding it as Heyes threw up into it before lying back against the pillow as he wiped his sleeve across his mouth, beads of perspiration standing out on his forehead.
“That’s it. I’m getting a doctor to see you – no arguments,” the Kid told him. Heyes didn’t protest.
Apparently there was a lot of medical work to do in that area, for the Kid only had to go one or two blocks before he found a doctor. The doctor agreed to meet them at their hotel room when he took time off for lunch.
Both Heyes and the Kid were happy to hear the knock at their door just a couple of hours later. The doctor entered, introduced himself as Dr. Bassett, general practitioner, and said he’d been educated locally. He was around 40 and had an easygoing friendly demeanor. He looked back and forth between them and said, “Where should I start?”
Kid Curry pointed to Hannibal Heyes and said, “He got the worst of it.”
​
“I think you’re right.” Dr. Bassett removed the quilt the Kid had placed over his friend so the clothes could remain on the chair. He took a look at Heyes’s chest and pulled out a few things from his bag. He handed Heyes a pill and a glass of water and helped him to drink.
​
“What’s that?” Heyes asked.
​
“It’s a little something for pain. I’m going to be doing some poking around and I know that’s going to bother you. I’ll leave you some more. Take them as needed. But keep drinking water. That’s important.” He looked to the Kid, who nodded. “You too,” the doctor said.
​
True to his word, Dr. Bassett poked around and caused Heyes discomfort. He pushed his thumb into Heyes’s abdomen and back in a number of places and said “Uh huh” to himself with each poke. Then he took out a listening tube like they’d seen before and listened to Heyes’s heart. More “Uh huh”s. Heyes gave his partner a look of helplessness and the Kid shrugged.
The doctor then examined the bruises on Heyes’s head. No “Uh huh”s with these, but questions instead. Where does it hurt? How long were you out for? How is your vision? Your memory? Were you ill upon awakening?
​
It hurt to concentrate, but apparently Heyes answered the questions to the doctor’s satisfaction, because at the end of the examination, the man sat back and said, “You’ve taken quite a beating, not uncommon around here. The head wounds will heal, although I would expect you might experience headaches occasionally for quite some time. I don’t think there’s any permanent damage. I am a little worried about your abdomen, for I see bruises that might be consistent with kidney damage. Time will tell on those. Go easy on the food today, but continue to drink water if you are able to. If you find that you can get into a normal schedule of food intake and elimination, I would say that the danger is passed. If not, either send your friend to get me or check into a hospital. There’s one just down the street. The pills I have given you will help to ease the discomfort. Now you.” He turned to the Kid.
​
Kid Curry sat on the bed next to his partner. He removed his shirt for the doctor and Heyes saw his friend’s bruises for the first time.
​
“Oh, Kid!” Heyes whispered, but fortunately the doctor did not hear.
​
Dr. Bassett examined the Kid in much the same way and concentrated on the same areas. But this exam took much less time and the doctor did not give the Kid pills.
​
The doctor stood and closed his bag. “You’ll be fine,” he told the Kid. “You – in fact, both of you – might be a little woozy for a while. I prescribe rest to hurry along that healing. You might just as well stay here in this hotel, although frankly it doesn’t look that comfortable.”
​
“It’ll do,” said the Kid. “Besides, we can’t stay. We have to leave.”
​
“No. Now, what did I just say?”
​
“We have to find someone, Doc. We have a good friend who’s dying.”
​
“Dying? Do you need my services for your friend?”
​
“No, thanks anyhow. He’s been in a hospital already and he’s at home now. His doctor is his neighbor and friend and he stops in all the time, but he . . . “
​
“Who’s his medical man?” the doctor interrupted.
​
“Dr. Hathaway. Preston Hathaway, I think he said.”
​
“Good! He’s one of the best! What’s wrong with your friend?”
​
“That’s just it! No one knows! It’s some kind of bug that we think he picked up around here when he visited a while ago. And he’s got a fever and he’s delirious and he’s just not getting better, whatever the doctor tries!”
​
Dr. Barrett shook his head. “There are so many diseases that come in from ports all over the world. The human body is not designed to be able to ward off everything new that’s thrown at it. Dr. Hathaway will try everything he can think of.”
​
“He has already! And nothing’s working! That’s why we can’t stay here. We have to find Ruby!”
​
“Ruby? You don’t mean that scam artist who tells everyone she’s a healing witch?”
​
“Yeah. I know, we think that too, but she’s all we’ve got. Our friend is dying! And he specifically asked for her – we have to bring her to him! Do you have any idea where to find her?”
​
“Please!” That tiny voice came from the bed where Hannibal Heyes was lying. Kid Curry and Dr. Barrett both turned to look at him. He was in pain but his voice was so pitiful that both felt sorry for him. The pain on his face was clearly from more than just his injuries.
​
The doctor sighed. “Under no circumstances are you to consider this a recommendation, but I believe she lives in the Bellemore area. Obviously she makes a fine living duping victims out of money. Believe in her if you want, but believe in the medical field more!” And with that, Dr. Barrett picked up his hat and his medical bag and left.
​
”Bellemore?” the Kid said after he’d left. “That ain’t too far from here, I don’t think, is it?”
“I don’t think so,” Heyes replied, a grimace coming to his face as he shifted position, sending shafts of pain through his ribs and abdomen. “I recall seeing an inn called The Bellemore Tavern on the cab ride down here.”
​
“That sounds like a good place to start looking,” the Kid nodded. “Dr. Bassett suggested she makes a living duping folks out of money. That would be a good place for her to find unsuspecting victims.”
​
Heyes nodded, and then wished he hadn’t as pain shot through his head.
​
“You want some breakfast?” the Kid asked. “Although it’s closer to lunch now than breakfast,” he added. His trip to find Dr. Bassett and for him to examine and treat them had taken up most of the morning.
​
“I’m not really hungry.”
​
“I’ll bring enough that we can share.” The Kid got up and picked up Heyes’s boots from where he’d placed them after pulling them off his feet the previous night.
​
“Good job you hid money in your boot,” he told Heyes as he withdrew a bill, “otherwise we’d be going hungry.”
​
Heyes rolled his eyes and the Kid headed to the café down the street and brought back a large breakfast. He ended up eating most of it himself, as Heyes felt too sick to eat much other than a piece of bacon and a biscuit.
​
“I don’t suppose you feel up to going to Bellemore?” he asked after he’d finished eating.
​
Heyes shook his head. “Not right now. And you ain’t going either!” he added, as the Kid opened his mouth to suggest just that. The Kid was stiff and sore, and his cracked ribs were painful, but he was aware of the passing of time and the need to find Ruby and bring her to Soapy before his time ran out.
​
“But, Heyes, we’ve already lost a day,” he protested. “We told Johnson we’d be back last night. He’s probably wondering what’s happened to us. And then there’s Soapy. The longer it takes us…” he trailed off, not wanting to voice the rest of the sentence – that Soapy could die before they made it back.
​
“I know,” nodded Heyes. “But I’m not up to trekking around Bellemore right now, and it’s too dangerous for you to go alone. Let’s rest up today and head up there tomorrow.”
​
The Kid sighed, frustrated, but he could see Heyes’s point. They hadn’t even spotted those dock workers sneaking up on them. This environment was completely alien to them, where the rules they usually employed to keep themselves safe didn’t apply. It would be foolhardy to go off on his own.
​
“All right,” he said reluctantly.
​
* * *
​
After a take-out breakfast the next morning they prepared to check out of the sleazy hotel and go in search of Ruby.
The Kid led the way downstairs with Heyes slowly following behind. His head felt like it was about to explode and, as he walked, pain stabbed through his ribs and abdomen. He would have liked another day or so to rest up but apart from not wanting to use up the reserve of cash hidden in his boot, he, like the Kid, was very aware that time was of the essence if they were to have any chance of finding Ruby and getting her to Soapy before it was too late, and so he dutifully followed his partner to the front desk.
“Checking out,” the Kid said brusquely to Carson, whose nose was once again stuck in the newspaper.
“So soon?” Carson could barely keep the disappointment out of his voice, having expected the men to be laid up for several days, thereby increasing his income. “Thought you two would need a while longer to get back on your feet after what those guys did to you.”
“We have somewhere we’re supposed to be.” the Kid said flatly, “Two dollars, right?” He placed two dollar bills on the counter.
Carson reached out his hand with remarkable speed and snatched up the notes.
“Hope to see you gentlemen again sometime.” He gave them his gap-toothed smile.
The Kid tipped his hat, thinking that if he never saw Carson and his hotel again it would still be too soon, and ushered Heyes out of the door.
“Pleasant fella,” Heyes said sarcastically as they slowly walked away, heading in the direction of Bellemore.
The Kid rolled his eyes.
​
* * *
​
It was late morning before they finally located the Bellemore Tavern, a narrow, three-storey building, with a diagonal entrance on the street corner and large windows either side of it. They entered the building and paused in the doorway to let their eyes adjust to the dimness of the interior. The room was very long and narrow, the bar running about two-thirds of the length of one wall. The walls were paneled with dark brown wood up to about five feet high, with the remainder painted a dark reddish-brown, giving it more the feel of a cave than a bar.
Once they’d adjusted to the darkness, they headed to the bar, ordering two shots of whiskey.
“Looks like you guys ran into a bit of trouble?” said the barkeep, noting their cut and bruised faces.
“You could say that,” growled the Kid.
The barkeep merely smiled.
“Actually, we’re looking for someone,” said Heyes, as he picked up his glass and took a sip. “Her name’s Ruby. Said to be able to heal people. We were told she lives around here. Do you know of her?”
“Ruby? Sure, I know her, but she wouldn’t waste her energy on a few cuts and bruises if that’s what you were hopin’ for,” smirked the barkeep.
Heyes shook his head, and then grimaced as pain shot through it. “No. It’s not for us. We have a sick friend – a really sick friend – who’s asked us to bring her to him, to see if she can help him. It’s a matter of life and death. Know where we can find her?”
The barkeep glanced at the clock on the wall. “If you hang around for fifteen minutes she’ll be here.”
“She will?”
The barkeep nodded. “Comes in at noon every day.”
Heyes and the Kid exchanged a smile, relieved to not have to search any further.
“Then we’ll have two more whiskeys,” said Heyes, pushing their empty glasses towards him.
As the clock struck noon, the door opened and a woman walked in.
Heyes and the Kid turned to look at the barkeep.
“That her?” asked the Kid.
The barkeep nodded. “Yep. That’s her.” He turned away with an amused smile to serve other customers.
Heyes and the Kid looked at each other and then back to Ruby. Neither had been sure what to expect, but this hadn’t been it.
Ruby was short and petite, and wore an ornately embroidered dark red dress. Her dark hair was plaited around her head and a black shawl covered her head and shoulders. Gaudy earrings dangled from her ears and what seemed like dozens of bangles adorned her arms. Every finger had an ornate ring on it, and several necklaces hung around her neck. It was difficult to judge her age but could have been anything from thirty to forty-five.
As they watched, she worked her way around the different tables, working her charm on the men with her sultry green eyes and very engaging smile. It was easy to see how she would be able to lure people into believing whatever she wanted them to.
As she moved towards the table nearest to them Heyes found his feet and approached her.
“Ma’am,” he said, politely removing his hat. “Miss Ruby?”
Ruby turned to look at him, her piercing green eyes seeming to look right through him.
“I am Ruby,” she said, in a deep, sultry voice with an accent that Heyes had never heard before but which sounded exotic.
“My name is Joshua Smith, and this is my friend, Thaddeus Jones. We heard that you can heal people and we were hoping you could help us.”
Ruby looked at their cut and bruised faces with a somewhat scornful expression. “I am sorry. I cannot heal pheesical
in-u-ries.”
“Oh, no, it’s not for us. We have a friend who is desperately ill, almost at death’s door in fact, and we were told that you might be able to help him.”
“Vat is wrong vid your friend?” asked Ruby, in her strange accent.
“That’s just it. They don’t know. His doctor has tried every treatment he knows and it hasn’t helped. He fell ill not long after having lunch with a friend down near the docks, possibly from some disease brought in by someone on a ship.”
Ruby nodded thoughtfully. “Dat is very poseeble.”
“Will you come with us, to his house?”
“Oh… I do not think…” Ruby looked doubtful.
“He’d be happy to pay you for your services.” Heyes cut in, “Handsomely. He’s a fairly wealthy man.”
Ruby suddenly looked interested. “My fee vill be… von hundred dollars.” she ventured, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
“That won’t be a problem. Even if you... you know, can’t help him, we’ll make sure your… expenses… are covered.”
Ruby smiled her engaging smile. “Then of course I vill come. I cannot promees that I vill be able to help him, but I vill try my best.”
“Thank you. We need to go right away. Time is of the essence.”
Ruby nodded, “Very vell.”
“He lives in the centre of the city. We’ll take a carriage,” said Heyes, exchanging bemused glances with the Kid as he ushered her toward the door.
Cabs were plentiful in this area but most were hansoms. They were forced to wait a few minutes for one big enough for three people plus a driver. While they were waiting, Ruby raised her hands to the heavens, managing to jangle her bracelets as much as possible in the process, and started saying some nonsense words to the sky. They understood some of the words, like “hear me” and “poor soul” and “not his time to cross over,” but most of the words sounded like silliness to them. She waggled her fingers as she incanted, jangling her bracelets. Waggled and jangled, waggled and jangled.
They were relieved when an elegant-looking carriage stopped to pick them up. Ruby ended her meaningless drivel and allowed the Kid to assist her and Heyes inside. The Kid then rattled off Soapy’s address to the driver before getting in himself.
Since Kid Curry had also suggested to the driver that time was of the essence and reinforced the suggestion with a gold piece, the horse fairly flew.
Heyes and the Kid were not impressed with her gaudy appearance, unrecognizable accent and silly machinations. They gave each other a look and the Kid shook his head no. But Heyes ignored his friend and said to Ruby, “What was all that silliness about anyway?”
She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. She answered in her deep mysterious voice, “I am Ruby – I am sorceress. You do not question me. My powers are beyond the powers of mortal man.” She then looked out the window, effectively dismissing Heyes.
In a moment, she apparently saw something out the window that bothered her because she yelled, “Stop!” The driver heard her and stopped the carriage. Mystified, Heyes and Curry watched her step out and walk right up to a complete stranger. The woman was slowly walking a small dog on a leash. Ruby spoke for a moment with the woman, bent down to look closely at the dog, and then handed a small card to the woman before returning to the carriage.
“Drive like the vind,” she said to the driver as she stepped inside.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at here,” the Kid chastised her, “but we’ve got to get to our friend’s house as soon as we can.”
Ruby shrugged. “Thees is vhy I ask driver for vind.” She continued looking out the window.
“What was that all about?” the Kid persisted.
“That animal – eet ees dying. No need. Eet is too young. I geeve voman my card. Voman knows of me; veel bring dog to me soon. I veel cure.”
Heyes rolled his eyes and looked out the window at the quickly-passing neighborhoods. The quick bumpy ride wasn’t helping his head feel any better. He looked over at his friend, and it was clear the Kid was suffering as well. Suddenly Ruby yelled “Stop!” again.
This time she jumped out of the carriage and ran right up to a large store and put her hands on the display window. She seemed to be staring at a beautiful brightly-colored gown with lots of sparkles on it. For a minute or two she didn’t move.
Heyes sighed. “She’s shopping!” he said. “Will you please go get that witch and bring her back here!”
“She claims she’s a sorceress, not a witch,” the Kid explained, but instantly took his friend’s meaning when he looked at Heyes’s eyes. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said softly.
The Kid was about to step out of the coach when Ruby suddenly turned and ran back to them, stepping quickly inside before saying, “Ve haf no time to lose! Ve must not stop!”
Heyes scowled and told her, “Ve von’t stop again, I can guarantee!”
Ruby shrugged. “Nice dress,” was all she said.
Neither Heyes nor Curry had any idea how much further the ride would be. Nor did Ruby because she had no idea of their destination. The outlaws were annoyed and distressed when Ruby yelled “Stop!” again. At the same time, the carriage stopped and they heard the driver yell, “We’re here.”
“Hey! Looka that!” Ruby exclaimed. “It’s Soapy Saunders’s crib! Ain’t that a kick in the head!” The exotic accent and low sultry voice were gone and Ruby the sorceress turned into Ruby the common woman – very common. Perhaps the only real magic she’d ever accomplished.
She jumped out of the carriage and paid no attention to the Kid or to Heyes, who were helping each other emerge from the carriage as painlessly as possible. Suddenly she turned to them. “You guys know Soapy?”
“Don’t tell me you do?!” Heyes was incredulous.
“Yeah, ‘course I do. Him and me go way back! We’re old friends, ya might say! Don’t tell me old Soapy’s the guy who’s dyin’!”
To the amazement of Heyes and the Kid, Ruby bounded up the front steps and pounded on the door.
And to their even greater amazement, Soapy himself answered the door!
“Ruby!” Soapy cried. “How wonderful to see you!” They embraced and laughed together. Soapy looked very healthy. In fact, Soapy might have never looked healthier in his life! Heyes and Curry looked at each other in amazement.
Soapy then noticed the two of them standing at the curb. “Boys!” he yelled to them. “I didn’t know you were here, too! Come in! Come on in!” He beckoned to them and ushered the three guests into his house. In the doorway, Heyes, Curry and Soapy paused to look at each other.
“How are you feeling, Soapy?” Heyes asked. “Last time we saw you, you sure didn’t look like this!”
“I’m good, feeling good as new. But the two of you don’t look so well. Come in and tell me what happened to you. Oh – wait! Have you have engaged Ruby’s services for these bruises? It looks like you’ve tangled with some bad people, boys.”
Heyes and the Kid exchanged wry glances before Heyes turned to Soapy.
“No, she told us she couldn’t heal pheesical in-u-ries,” Heyes said, mimicking her accent. “But yes, we did run into some... undesirables... down at the docks.”
“The docks? What on earth were you doing down there?” Soapy looked puzzled.
Heyes and the Kid exchanged equally puzzled glances. “We went there to try and find Ruby, like you wanted,” said the Kid.
Soapy frowned. “You’ve lost me, boys, but even so, I’m very glad to see Ruby. I haven’t seen her in years.”​
Before the boys could respond, Ruby, who had gone ahead into the living room to look around, came back to join them.
“These two told me you were dying,” she nodded in their direction, “but you’re looking well enough to me.”
“Well, it’s true I have been ill...” Soapy began.
“ill?” Heyes cut in. “You were more than ill when we got here. At death’s door, in fact. The doctor had no idea what was wrong with you, or how to cure you. That’s why we went to look for her,” he nodded to Ruby, “in a last-ditch attempt to save you.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “When we left here three days ago it looked like you wouldn’t last the day, yet now you look like you never had a day’s illness in your life.”
Soapy shrugged. “I guess my time isn’t up yet.” He smiled. “But how did you know I was ill? Then, answering his own question, “Ah, I suppose Johnson sent for you?” He shook his head and tutted in mock irritation. “I will have to have words with him, dragging you all the way up here for nothing.”
Heyes and the Kid just looked at each other, flabbergasted. They’d travelled days to get here from Nevada, got robbed and beaten up at the docks, scoured half of San Francisco in search of Ruby, worried all the while that Soapy would die before they found her, and all he could say was that it had been “for nothing"?
“But let’s not stand around in the hallway; come on in and I’ll have Johnson fix a meal for us all,” said Soapy. “We’ve a lot to catch up on,” he said to Ruby, taking her arm and leading her towards the parlour, leaving the somewhat exasperated ex-outlaws trailing behind them.
* * *
Over the meal, Heyes and the Kid listened as Soapy and Ruby talked about what they’d both been up to since their last meeting and reminisced about old times. It transpired that Soapy had first met her while running a con more than twenty years previously, when Ruby had been an orphaned teenager trying to get by in life any way she could. Soapy had befriended her and taught her some of his flim-flam tricks. Later, a gypsy woman, who claimed to be psychic, had read her palm for a half dollar, and told her she had healing powers and should direct her energies into healing people. She had attempted to follow that advice but, when her early attempts at healing did not prove successful, she came to the conclusion that the psychic had been a fraud, just out to make money.
Undeterred, she decided to carry on the charade of being a healer, charging people fees to cure them of their various ills, adopting an exotic accent and seeking out extravagant clothes and jewelry to add to her air of mystery. The majority of her clients’ ​illnesses were usually things that cured themselves anyway over time, but they were quick to give Ruby credit for their recoveries and these apparent successes had built her a reputation.
“Which reminds me,” she said, turning her penetrating green eyes to Heyes, “you promised me a fee for coming here - of von hundred dollars,” dropping into her exotic accent for the last part of the sentence.
Heyes glanced at the Kid and swallowed nervously. “Yes... well... I... er... we... er...” he stuttered. He had agreed to the fee but they didn’t have that much money on them and since Soapy didn’t appear to recall asking them to find her they couldn’t very well ask him to pay it.
After a long moment of intense staring that had Heyes squirming uncomfortably on his chair, Ruby burst out laughing. “Relax, I’m not going to hold you to that,” she told him. “To catch up with old Soapy has been worth the trip.”
Heyes gave a relieved smile. “Thank you.”
“Well, I should be getting back,” Ruby said now, getting to her feet.
Soapy called Johnson and asked him to hail Ruby a carriage, before turning to face her.
“It’s been wonderful to catch up with you, my dear,” he told her, taking her arm and escorting her to the door, with Heyes and the Kid following behind him. “Do please come and visit me again.”
“I don’t often get up to this part of town, but if I do, I surely will,” Ruby told him, as Soapy took her hand and leaned down to plant a kiss on her cheek. Then, with a wink to the boys, she took her leave.
Soapy, Heyes and the Kid went back into the parlour where Soapy poured three brandies from a decanter.
“How nice it was to see her again,” he smiled, as he handed Heyes a glass and then the Kid. “But how on earth did you find out about her? I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned her to you, have I?”
The Kid shook his head. “We met some people on the boat trip crossing Lake Tahoe. When we said we were coming to San Francisco to visit a sick friend one of them said they knew of a woman here named Ruby who had a reputation for being able to heal people. So, when you said ‘Ruby’ to us, we assumed you were referring to the same person, so we headed off to try and find her.”​
Soapy began to chuckle to himself.
“What’s so funny?” asked Heyes, rubbing his still painful ribs.
“I do vaguely remember saying Ruby to you,” Soapy said as he took a sip of his drink, “But it wasn’t Ruby I was referring to.”
“It wasn’t?” The Kid looked puzzled.
Soapy shook his head. “I do recall you two being at my bedside... and at that time, I felt I was going to die, and as a gesture of our friendship I wanted to bequeath to you a very large, valuable ruby I have in my safe.” He began to chuckle again. “You must have misunderstood me.”
Heyes’s jaw fell open. “You mean to tell us that we went down to the docks, and got robbed and beaten up, searching for... for a gemstone that was here in your safe all the time?” he said incredulously.
“I’m afraid so, boys,” smiled Soapy. “But I’m touched that you went to such great lengths to try and find someone you thought might be able to cure me. Naturally, any bequests I may have made while not in possession of my faculties are, of course, invalid.”
Heyes met the Kid’s eyes, for once unable to think of anything to say in response.
“After travelling so far to aid me, the least I can do is offer you my hospitality for as long as you’d like,” Soapy continued. “You’re in no hurry to be anywhere, are you?”
“Er... no...” muttered the Kid.
“Good. It will give us a chance to catch up... and you boys a chance to rest up for a while. You both look as though you could do with it,” said Soapy, eying their cut and bruised faces. “Why on earth would you go to the docks to look for Ruby anyway? The docks are no place for a lady.”
Heyes wasn’t quite sure that he would class Ruby as a lady but let it go, saying instead, “Johnson told us that you’d fallen ill after having lunch with a friend down near the docks. We hoped we could ask around and maybe find your friend in the hope that he would know Ruby, or where to find her. Instead, we got jumped by some dockworkers who took our guns and money and beat us half to death.”
“Oh, my goodness. You must let me reimburse you for what you lost. How much money did you lose?”
Heyes was tempted to say double the amount but didn’t want to rip off his old friend so truthfully said, “Fifty dollars.”
“And you?” Soapy looked at the Kid.
“The same.”
Soapy went to a desk, opened a drawer and took out a cash tin. Unlocking it, he counted out some notes, crossing to hand each of them a wad.
“There’s a hundred dollars here,” said Heyes.
“Same here,” said the Kid.
Soapy nodded. “You said your guns were stolen too. I assume there’s enough extra to get yourselves new ones?”
“More than enough,” smiled Heyes. “Thanks, Soapy.” He might not be prepared to give away his ruby – not for a while anyway – but he was happy to reimburse them for their loss even though, technically, it wasn’t his fault.
“You’re more than welcome, boys.”
“I’m still baffled by how quickly you recovered.” the Kid said now, “When we left here the other day, we were worried you wouldn’t survive the night, yet here you are, right as rain. When did that happen?
“Just this morning. An hour or so before you boys arrived, as a matter of fact. One minute I felt like death warmed over and then, suddenly, the fever disappeared and I felt as right as rain. I suppose whatever it was just ran its course.”
Heyes and the Kid looked at each other, both having suddenly had the same thought. An hour or so before they arrived, Soapy had said. That would have been almost the time that Ruby was making her incomprehensible incantations to the sky. They remembered her saying “hear me” “poor soul” and “not his time to cross over” and they remembered her saying she’d told the woman to bring her dog to her so she could save it before it died. Could it be that Ruby was actually able to heal people, even if she didn’t know it herself? Had her incantations been responsible for Soapy’s miraculous recovery? It seemed impossible, but the evidence was right here in front of them.
“I’ll go and tell Johnson to make up rooms for you,” Soapy said now, leaving the room.
“Heyes, do you think Ruby actually...?” the Kid began.
“I don’t know, Kid, but it does seem a bit more than coincidence, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does.”​
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That she could heal us?”
Heyes nodded. “Couldn’t hurt to try, I guess.”
They exchanged a smile.
A few moments later, Soapy re-entered the room. “Johnson will ready rooms for you. Now, how about . . . ?” He broke off when he found the room empty.
Going into the hallway, he noticed that the front door was open. He looked up and down the street but there was no sign of Heyes or Curry. Closing the door, Soapy made his way back to the parlor, shaking his head in bewilderment.
“Those two boys will be the death of me one of these days,” he said to himself as he poured another brandy.
​
--oo00oo--
