Although this is a stand alone story, it is also part of my The Tale of Two Kid Currys universe.
Preacher’s Train
Josiah Jeffrey was fleeing on a train again. He wasn’t even sure if that was his real last name. Although only twenty, his family had used so many names he didn't remember. But his family was gone, both of his families. He was free to use any last name for his ‘start over life', as his father had said.
Remembering, he drifted in and out of sleep. He was born Josiah James Jeffrey. Jeffrey was the first last name he remembered. People said he resembled his charismatic father, Reverend James Josiah Jeffrey, but he was quiet and shy. His older sister, Martha Ruth, had his father’s charisma. She hadn’t been afraid of anyone or anything.
His father said they were from Mary’s Mountain, Pennsylvania. He wasn’t sure he believed that. He did remember his first home, a small preacher’s house behind his father’s church. Their mother made the home cheery. His life was happy. When he was seven, his mother died giving birth to his younger sister, Mary Louise. For a long time, Josiah was unable to forgive her for leaving them.
His life changed that day. Reflecting on it, he shook his head at the changes that day started. After a short period of mourning, Josiah and his sisters were looked after by young women his father referred to as friends. Friend Janice, had lost her husband and a nursing child recently. She became the wet nurse for Mary. She helped his father with church business in his father’s office. Young Josiah soon learned a whipping would come if he disturbed them when the door was closed.
“Josiah, take your sister. She needs changing,” demanded Friend Janice.
“I don’t do that,” he answered, scrunching up his nose.
Friend Janice’s voice became louder. “You’ll do as I say, boy. I’m gonna be your new mother soon.”
Josiah’s voice failed him. He refused to have a new mother. Friend Janice’s voice carried to his father in the sitting room.
“Josiah, go to your room. Wait for me.”
“Yes, sir.” Sitting on his bed, Josiah waited for the beating for his disobedience.
Reverend James saw Josiah waiting for him. “I’m sorry Friend Janice yelled at you, son.” Josiah looked at the floor, waiting for his beating. The bed bounced as his father sat down next to him.
“She won’t be around any longer.”
With questioning eyes, the boy caught an unusual gentleness in his father’s face. “Don’t want another mother.”
His father put his arm around his shoulders. “And you won’t be having one. Friend Diane starts helping us tomorrow.”
ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ
As the train picked up speed going downhill, Josiah jerked out of his memories. Smiling, he remembered Friend Diane, followed by Friend Sarah, then Friend MaryAnne. Each took care of his younger sister, while Martha ignored them. Each, also, helped his father in his office with the door locked.
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“Josiah, wake up,” Martha said. “Get dressed. Wear your winter coat. Pack anything you care about and your clothes.” She threw a travel bag on his bed.
With sleepy eyes, he looked out the window and saw the moon high in the sky. “Why? What?”
“Pa says we’re leaving on the 6:00 AM train. I’ll get Mary’s things. I need you to get yourself ready.”
Hearing urgency in her tone, eight-year-old Josiah shook himself awake and did as she asked, excited for his first train ride.
As the train pulled out of the station, Josiah looked at his father with questions, unable to find the words to ask them. He sat next to his father facing Martha holding a sleeping Mary. Josiah was patient and waited.
“Where are we going, Pa?” Martha disturbed his patient silence.
“West. Maybe Indiana. We’ll get off there. I’ll see if I can find work. Tonight we begin our ‘start over life’.” He wasn’t looking at the children. Josiah imagined his father was looking into the future. “We’re not going to be the Jeffrey family anymore. A new life deserves a new name. We’ll be the Justice family.”
“Justice?” asked Josiah, leaning into his father.
“Yes, Justice. That fits us. You’ll be Martha Justice and Josiah Justice. Can you remember that?”
Josiah nodded. His father continued. “I heard of a congregation in Green River, Indiana that needs a preacher. First, we’ll see if we like the town. I’ll get a job while we check it out.”
Josiah felt his father’s love and believed firmly in his plans for their new life. He fell asleep to the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of the tracks.
ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ
Thinking back to that first train ride, Josiah smiled at his naivety. His father secured a job at the mercantile as he said but it was to learn if anyone there knew him. When he was sure he was a stranger, he charmed his way into becoming the pastor of the Green River Church of God’s Path. Again, there was a succession of young women willingly helping his father, seeing the widowed preacher as a potential husband. Most succumbed to his forceful charm and worked with him for long hours with the office door locked.
ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ
Eleven-year-old Josiah Justice thought he was dreaming.
“Josiah, wake up!” Martha’s voice became the reality. “Get dressed. Wear your winter coat. Pack anything you care about,” she said, throwing a travel bag on his bed.
“Again? I like it here.”
“I do, too,” she said, frustrated. “But pa says we need to leave. We’ll take the wagon into Kentucky, then catch the noon train out of there. Just said we’re going West.”
“Why?”
Martha sighed, “Not sure. Don’t ask pa why. He’s been drinking and he’s gonna have a nasty shiner by morning.”
On the train, Josiah sat next to Martha, across from their father with Mary cradled in his lap. The trip to Kentucky had been done in silence. Josiah waited for his father to speak.
Finally, Reverend James looked kindly at each of his children, his blessings. “I love you so much. I’m sorry; it looks like we need another ‘start over life’.”
Josiah caught a tear in his father’s eyes. Then maybe it was just pain from the shiner that had rapidly developed.
“Going to Iowa.” Josiah heard his father’s voice falter then strengthen as he used his charm on his children. “Good opportunity for a fire and brimstone preacher in Garnet, Iowa.”
“Are you going to work in the mercantile first like last time?” asked Martha.
“Wherever I can find work. You’ll take care of Mary until we find help. I think we’ll be the Joyce family here.”
“Josiah Joyce,” Josiah tried out the new name falling asleep to the clack-clack-clack of the train on the tracks.
ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ
“Josiah!” He turned from sweeping the mercantile at his sister’s voice. He had found a job there on their first day in Garnet, two weeks ago. Their father found a night job as a bartender at the Green Garnet Saloon and had established contact with the church council.
Josiah helped his father clean up the bar each night. His father let him sip any unfinished drinks as he cleared the tables. “Boy needs to learn how to drink,” his father would bellow to all who would listen. All was going well.
“Josiah! Come on!” Martha’s voice was sharp and piercing.
“I’m working. We can talk tonight.” Josiah shooed her away.
“Sorry, no. Pa said we are leaving on the four o’clock train.”
“No! Tomorrow’s my birthday. He said we’d go fishing.”
“We don’t have a choice. Go home and pack. We don’t have much time.”
Josiah fell silent. Throwing back his head, he calmed his rising anger. “I’ll be right along. Want to get my pay first.”
After getting his pay, Josiah entered the saloon. He smiled at the bartender who nodded to the broom in the corner.
“Sorry, not here to sweep,” Josiah started. “Pa sent me for a bottle of whiskey.”
Carefully wrapping the whiskey bottle in his socks and slipping it in his spare pair of shoes, Josiah hid it in his travel bag.
They barely caught the train. Josiah settled in, waiting for his father to speak.
“Garnet was a bad choice on my part,” Reverend James started. “Too close to Indiana. We’re heading West. Heard they need men of God in Arizona. Some godless towns there.”
“Think we’ll be the Jewell family this time.” Reverend James looked at the three resigned faces he loved so much in front of him. “Mary Jewell, do you like that, darling?” he asked his youngest.
Josiah leaned back and closed his eyes letting the clack-clack-clack of the rails put him to sleep.
ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ
Preacher James Jewell was a hero in the Arizona town of Wind. He established the local church four years ago after becoming a true hero by saving two boys lost in the desert.
Soon after they arrived in Wind, he undertook a journey of fifty miles through the desert to buy food and supplies. He came upon two six-year-old runaways by chance when his wagon wheel broke, and his horse ran off. Hearing crying, he found them trapped in an old mine. They weren’t far inside. James moved collapsed boards and rocks to get to the scared boys. Finding them was one thing, keeping all of them alive through the cold desert night was another. He had the supplies. That was not the problem. Shelter was.
As the mine was unstable, James turned his wagon over. They huddled underneath with horse blankets from the wagon. Holding the boys tight, he asked God to deliver them from the desert as he had delivered Moses.
Surviving the bitter cold night, James divided some supplies. Fastening the two smaller ones on the boys’ backs, he took the larger one and four water canteens. He tied bandanas over their faces, and they set out just after first light to walk to Wind. Four hours later, James Jewell stumbled into Wind carrying one boy and supporting the other. His lungs burned with every breath. He collapsed as soon as someone took the boys.
Calling their survival a miracle and James a hero, the town declared him their preacher and built a small church. As the population grew, so did his church. In thanks to God, Preacher James drilled Bible verses into his children every day.
Josiah found a job sweeping up the saloon after school. He raced there each afternoon, looking for sips of whiskey left from customers. It was there he first saw men with tied down guns. His father became more interested in building his church than what Josiah did with his money. He bought a gun and then a holster. By asking questions and listening, he learned how to shoot his gun from men in the saloon. When he wasn’t in school or working, he was drinking stolen whiskey and practicing his fast draw.
As his congregation grew, Preacher James again had a succession of single female helpers. He spent many hours with them locked in his office on Church business.
“Josiah, what are you doing?”
Josiah turned from his target practice with a bottle of whiskey in his hand and looked at his sister.
“Just practicing, Martha. Leave me alone.”
“Can’t. Pa’s in trouble again. Said we’re leaving on the next train. That’s in two hours. Said don’t let anyone see you leave with a bag. We’ll sneak out as soon as it’s dark and get on the train as it leaves.”
Josiah took a long drink from the bottle. In the last four years, they had figured out just what kind of trouble his charismatic father kept finding.
As the train left Wind, the four travelers found their seats and settled in.
“Where are we going, Pa?” asked Mary. Her father couldn’t resist her hazel eyes, so much like her mother’s.
“California, darling, a beautiful place in need of God’s word. Think we’ll be the Johnson family and do a ‘start over life’.”
The clack-clack-clack of the train in the dark of night lulled Josiah into a troubled sleep.
ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ
Tears flooded Josiah’s eyes remembering California. He saw Mary, running on the beach squealing with delight. It started out good.
Creek’s End needed a preacher and Preacher James Johnson was ready to serve.
Josiah, himself, gave his first sermon there to an appreciative crowd. He met the love of his life, Joannie Collins there. They married on his eighteenth birthday. A year later she gave him the joy of his own daughter. They rented a small house in town and his gun languished in the back of the top kitchen shelf.
Stopping drinking, he concentrated on their Church and helping the congregation. He thought he had found his calling with the Lord. He enjoyed working with the people, helping them with their problems. He was the driving force in starting a school and hiring a teacher.
With Martha, he attempted to keep their father honest with no unescorted lady visitors and no locked doors. They managed for three years and thought they had been, finally, granted a life where they weren’t always waiting to run.
It was winter and darkness came early when his life changed again.
“Preacher, I know you’re in there.” The demanding knock on Josiah’s door woke his daughter.
“Open up.”
Josiah opened the door to Elijah Todd, owner of the Running T Ranch and head of the church council. He was sloppy drunk and crying.
“Not you, your father. Where is he?”
“At the town council meeting. May I help?”
Todd stared vacantly at Josiah and slammed a paper into his hands. “He killed my daughter; she was only fifteen.”
Turning, Todd stumbled down the porch steps, keening loudly.
Josiah read the suicide note from Todd’s daughter. She was pregnant and ashamed. Preacher James was the father but wouldn’t acknowledge her or the baby. She couldn’t tell her parents, so she had taken poison. Wishing them a life of love, she asked they pray for her soul.
“He had his gun on,” Josiah told Joannie. Heart pounding, he grabbed the gun he hoped to never wear again and ran after Todd.
Hearing the shots before he got to the meeting hall, Josiah prayed as he entered. His father sat in a chair, leaning back with three bullet wounds in his chest.
“Pa!”
“Josiah.” His father reached a hand to him but was too weak. Josiah took his hand in his. “Watch over your sisters. Take care of them.”
“Pa, doctor’s coming.”
James Jeffrey touched his son’s arm. With his last breath, he murmured, “Pray for forgiveness for me.”
Silence invaded the room. Josiah found words wouldn’t come. He bowed his head and cried.
Someone outside was yelling, “Fire in the Church!”
“Lord, protect us.” Josiah prayed. He gently put his father’s hand down and closed his eyes.
Running to the church, he heard a shot. After setting the fire, Elijah Todd lay, dead by his own hand, on the church steps.
As the town rushed to quench the fire, screams could be heard inside the church, from his father’s office. “Help, help. He’s locked the door.”
Josiah knew those precious voices and rushed into the building. The fire fought him as the church started to crumble and die in the flames over and around him.
Reaching his father’s office door, he no longer heard his sisters’ voices. Opening the door, he collapsed, unable to breathe through the smoke any longer.
When he woke up, the pain from his burns was all consuming. Joannie was there. From the look on her face, he knew he had lost his family.
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Creek’s End asked him to stay and be their preacher. He thanked them for their confidence, but they were leaving. There was too much sorrow here. He never mentioned the suicide note. Part of his faith in the Lord died with his sisters.
Sitting on the train next to Joannie holding their daughter, he thought how many times he had done this before. His praying had given him the insight that although he had lost one family, he had been given another.
Josiah smiled when Joannie leaned her head against him asking, “Are you ready to tell me where we are going?”
“Wyoming. I hear they need preachers.”
ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ
Opening his eyes, Josiah looked out the train window. The Wyoming scenery Joannie had said was so beautiful hadn’t changed but now it left him cold. Joannie and his daughter had caught the measles, probably on the trip to Wyoming. Neither had survived. Losing them meant losing all faith in God. He knew now why his father had always kept his kids close, family was everything. Family was the only thing. His was gone.
Josiah drifted until his drinking money had run out.
Still, out of habit, he prayed for guidance. A bartender mentioned they were hiring men near Denver for a cattle drive. He had no experience, but he had just enough for the train ticket.
He felt the train slowing down abruptly, throwing him back in his seat.
“Stand and Deliver.” Josiah heard a commanding yell. Standing to look out, he saw a smiling dark-haired man, holding his gun high.
“Who’s robbing this train?” the engineer asked.
The dark-haired man pointed his gun up and toward a youthful blonde man with a large smile on his face. “Kid Curry!”
The blonde tilted his gun and pointed back at the dark-haired man. “Hannibal Heyes.”
Josiah smiled as he sat down. Perhaps the Lord was showing him the way. There were all kinds of families. Josiah decided at that moment that like his father, he would shed his old names and give himself a ‘start over life’. He would be called Preacher. Outlaws needed to hear the Lord’s words. He would bring it to them but first he needed to become one of them.
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rachel741
Posts : 188 Join date : 2020-06-29 Age : 50 Location : United Kingdom
Subject: Re: September 21 - the Train Sun Sep 05, 2021 9:04 am
Loosely linked to the challenge- but it has the word train in it. Hope that counts.
The Kid lying on the bed with his hands behind his head, stared at Heyes in stunned silence before exploding into speech. “You've gone plum loco. I ain't goin' nowhere near Big Mac and I certainly ain't gonna take him up on that job offer and neither should you!”
Heyes let out a huge puff of air as relief swept over him at finally getting Kid to disagree. He hated how hard it'd been, but at least there was finally progress. “Thank God, Kid. I'd just about run out of crazy notions to get you riled up.”
“Heyes I swear it.” The Kid turned to him and then away in slightly embarrassed anger, but it wasn't long before he met Heyes' gaze and shook his head in some amusement before breaking into rueful laughter. “You don't change, Heyes!”
Heyes grinned in some delight at his partner's reassuringly familiar reaction and the tight knot in his stomach that he'd not been able to fully shake for weeks began to unravel making it so much easier for him to breathe. He looked away briefly hoping not to show Kid just how affected he was, before meeting his friend's gaze calmly. “Well now we got what you don't want cleared up, maybe you've gotten a better idea of what exactly you do want.”
The Kid answered so promptly, that Heyes knew he'd been thinking about it for a while. “To be where there ain't no people and not much else around 'cept water and mountains.”
“Guess that means the open trail for us then.” Heyes had spent so much time travelling in the past year he'd have been happy not to move on for at least another month or so. Especially as they had plenty money and no pressing need to be anywhere but where they were. But as the idea of letting the Kid leave without him made him cold and anxious, the decision to go with him was an easy one to make.
“You know Heyes you don't have to come with me. I'll tire of wandering soon enough, especially on my own. I'm sure I'll be back here in just a few weeks.”
The Kid had obviously sensed his reluctance, but a little worryingly had appeared to miss the fact that Heyes had no intention of staying put if Kid was going anywhere at all.
Heyes felt his skin prickle and careless in his dismay, blurted out without thinking. “Of course I need to go with you, Kid. Ain't letting you out of my sight.” As soon as the words were out, Heyes was embarrassed at just how much he'd given away with them. But his fierce tone only brought a wide grin and an affectionate gaze, as the Kid sounding both amused and content said. “Ain't no need to get so proddy, Heyes. Was just a suggestion.”
Heyes grinned back at his friend, grateful for the normality of it all as he added. “Well it sure wasn't a good one.” He leaned over to his saddle bag and brought out a train timetable and studied it quickly. “There's an early train tomorrow morning, heading towards Cheyenne. It won't be busy and we can jump off at the first stop we fancy and buy us some horses. Then we'll be able to head out where there's just miles of empty trail ahead of us. Can't see no asterisk and the weather is set fine, so don't see no problems.” He threw the timetable at Kid who caught it easily and made his own study, then looked up with a grin of his own and tossed it back as he said. “Sounds like a perfect plan.”
“Well, Kid what do you expect? It was mostly mine.”
“I'm in a good mood, Heyes, so I ain't going to touch that!”
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RosieAnnie
Posts : 839 Join date : 2012-04-22 Age : 105 Location : The Comfy Chair
Subject: Re: September 21 - the Train Tue Sep 07, 2021 4:56 am
Missing scenes from "Wrong Train to Brimstone"
--------------------------------- “I’m a-goin to sit this next hand out, fellas. Game’s too rich for me.”
The little man’s pronouncement caused a few shoulders to shrug and only one comment. “Suit yourself. Come on back whenever you feel like losing some more.”
Kyle Murtree pushed his chair back and stood. “Well, I might contribute some funds, but I sure ain’t contributing my whiskey.” He filled his glass from the half-empty bottle that stood in the middle of the table.
“Don’t take that whole bottle, Murtree,” someone – Kyle couldn’t remember his name – growled at him. “There’s some thirsty men here.”
“’Course not.” Before Kyle had taken two steps towards the bunkhouse door, his seat was filled. He kept his gaze focused on the floor, not wanting to get into another confrontation with some likkered-up fool. When two boots appeared in his view, he looked up and met Hank’s blue eyes.
“Why’re you leavin’? Night’s still young.”
“Why’re you stayin’? Ain’t you put up with enough for one night?”
“It ain’t so bad. I don’t mind. They’s just funnin’.”
Kyle looked over his shoulder at the rough men crouched over their cards at three separate tables. “These new fellas don’t seem like much fun to me. ‘Specially the way they talk to you, makin’ fun of your name an’ all. That don’t seem right to me.”
Hank’s voice was low, but somehow penetrated the background noise of deep voices making bets and arguing behind them.
“There’s a sayin’ I heard a lot when I was startin’ out. Made a lotta sense to me. If someone’s just tryin’ to rile me, just for the sake of rilin’ me, I say to myself, is this the hill you want to die on? So far, I ain’t never crossed that hill yet.” Now his blue eyes met Kyle’s blue eyes. “Ain’t you the same way?”
“I ain’t so sure about that right now. Which is why I’m gonna get some distance between me and these fellas. If you’re smart, you’ll do the same thing. But if you ain’t comin’ with me, just move aside. I’m fixin’ to take a walk.” Hank stepped away, and Kyle slipped past him.
Outside, Kyle stepped off the threshold and took in a deep breath. The clouds of cigar smoke that hung low under the bunkhouse ceiling were stale and acrid, but still not strong enough to cover up the aroma of dirty, sweaty men and the leftovers of their dinners and stomach contents. August in the Wind River Range, the air was clear and fresh. The constant wind had a taste of chill in it, warning that the bitter Wyoming winter was coming. But on this night, the winter seemed far away, and the noise coming from the crowded bunkhouse was too close. It felt to him like there hadn’t been any peace and quiet at Devil’s Hole for a long time. He decided to take a walk around the meadow, clear his aching head a bit.
The corral by the stable was quiet. The horses were all settled down for the night. For a moment, Kyle thought about going in to lay with them. The fresh straw could be mighty comfy, and he could get some real sleep there. Not like in the bunkhouse, where all those new men Wheat brought in played poker and drank and argued till the wee hours. It was no place for a self-respecting outlaw to get some rest. He took a long drink of his whiskey, put the glass on the ground, and leaned onto the fence, thinking about nothing more than how pretty these late summer nights were. Every star in the sky was shining down on him, and he could follow the Milky Way real easy.
“What’re you hanging out here by your lonesome? Ain’t there a game going on?”
Kyle turned around. Wheat Carlson was standing beside him, hands on hips, sounding kinda mad.
“There’s always a game goin’ on these days. Missin’ one don’t mean nothin’.”
Wheat grunted, but he came forward and leaned on the fence, mimicking Kyle’s posture.
“Sure is a pretty night.”
“Sure is.”
The two men watched the sky for a long moment.
“So what are you doin’ out here, Kyle?”
He shrugged. “Wonderin’, I guess.”
“Wonderin’ what?”
“Oh, lots of things. When I’m gonna get some sleep tonight. Where I’m gonna sleep tonight.” At Wheat’s puzzled expression, Kyle explained.
“Them new boys you brought in play cards and drink too much, and then they start fightin’ and calling everyone bad names. I can’t get no good sleep no more. Which you wouldn’t know, since you’re staying in the leader’s cabin now, and you ain’t sharing it with your partner. I’m wonderin’ what they’re doin’ here, since we ain’t had no jobs except some piddly cowpucky since Heyes and Kid left.”
“Whaddaya mean, piddly cowpucky? We had some good hauls. Are you tellin’ me I ain’t a good leader?” Kyle glanced at his partner. Wheat’s voice hadn’t risen. He was talking quiet and calm-like. Normally, Wheat got all high and mighty if he thought someone was finding fault with him.
“I ain’t saying that at all, Wheat. I’m your partner, you remember? I’m just wonderin’, that’s all.”
“I know,” Wheat said. He was staring at the sky like something real interesting was happening there. Kyle looked up, too, trying to see if anything had changed, but all he saw was the Milky Way, hanging high and bright over their heads, and over the narrow valley where the Devil’s Hole hideout huddled between snow-capped mountains.
“I know I had a slow start, Kyle. I know what Hank and Lobo are saying. I know why Preacher left. I know what you’re thinkin’, even though you ain’t said nothin’ till now.” He turned towards Kyle, and his voice got intense. “But listen to me. I got a plan for a big haul. A real big haul. We’re gonna get rich, richer than we ever got with Heyes running things. Enough for all of us to buy some nice ranchero in Mexico, and no one’s ever got to spend another winter freezing their cojones up here in Wyoming.”
“How big is real big?”
“Quarter of a million dollars. That enough for you?”
Kyle whistled, low and slow. “Hoo-ee, Wheat! Who’s got that kind of money in one place?”
Wheat bent closer to Kyle and whispered. “I’m only telling you this before everyone else, because you’re my partner. But you got to keep it under your hat till I tell the other boys tomorrow. Can you do that?”
“’Course I can. You know me.”
“Yeah, I do, That’s why I’m askin’ for your word.”
“We’s partners, Wheat,” he protested. Wheat only stared at him. “Alright, you got my word. I won’t say nothin’ afore you tell everyone. ‘Sides, I’m the only one half-sober out of that whole bunch. Even Hank and Lobo are three sheets to the wind.”
“Alright. It’s the payroll for the Wash Valley Consolidated Mining Company. They’re shipping it to the Denver mint. We’re going to stop the train it’s on – same train we’ve stopped twice before, so we know where it is and how to do.” He slapped Kyle on the bank. “It’s gold, Kyle. Lots and lots of gold. Ain’t nobody gonna remember Heyes or Curry when we split that mother lode.”
“Gold?” Kyle couldn’t keep the doubt out of his voice. “Are you for sure? How’re we gonna carry away a quarter million dollars in gold?”
“Now you know why I had ta bring in all those new men. We need every last one of them to carry out them gold bars.”
“But a train we hit twicet before? The lawmen are gonna be waitin’ for us. It might even be a trap. Did ya think of that?”
“Uh-uh. It means the law don’t expect us. They don’t expect us to make the same hit three times. ‘Sides, you know from before, the lawmen around here ain’t smart enough to blow their own noses even if they used your dynamite. It ain’t like they’s Bannerman men, Ain’t no chance there’s a trap.”
“But we already robbed the same train twicet before. They could figure out real easy, if’n we did it twicet, we could do it three times.”
“Kyle, you’re the best powder man round, but it’s real clear you ain’t got the mind of a leader. Not that that’s a bad thing! It’s just that you ain’t suited to run this gang like I am.”
“Well, I ‘spose that’s true. I know I ain’t suited to be leader. I just wonder. . . “
“Well, don’t,” Wheat said. “I’m the leader now of this here gang. You leave the wonderin’ and the plannin’ to me. But now you understand why I needed more men. And even with more men, there’s still gonna be more’n enough gold for everyone here.”
“With that big a payroll, ain’t they gonna have extra guards? More security? ‘Cause I sure would.”
“Nope. Fact is, they’re trying to do everything hush-hush. They’re running that train out of Brimstone, just like it’s a regular passenger train with regular luggage. No special guards, no nothing. Nobody’s supposed to think there’s anything special or different ‘bout that run.”
“How’d you hear about it then, if’n it’s such a big secret?”
Wheat tapped his nose with one finger. “I got my ways. People tell me things over a poker game that they don’t mean to, once they got half a bottle of fine whiskey in them.”
Kyle looked off into the sky again, not speaking.
“Don’t be looking like that, Kyle. It’s gonna work.” Wheat straightened up to his full height. “Or don’t you trust me? Best to tell me now. If you ain’t with me, I got to know. This job’s happening, whether you come or not.”
“I’m with you, Wheat, same as always. Ain’t that what partners are for?”
“Damn straight.” He held out his hand. “Partners through thick and thin.”
Kyle reached over and shook Wheat’s hand. “I’m just hoping tt’s gonna be thick. Things’ve been mighty thin lately.”
“It will be. Trust me on this. I’m plannin’ to tell the boys tomorrow my plan. And in a few days, we are all gonna be rich men. You’ll see.”
“Well, I’d sure like to be rich. I’d buy me a nice farm back in Tennessee, settle down there, maybe hire some of my nephews to work for me whilst I sit on my porch and watch ‘em.”
“Tennessee? You must be plumb loco. It’s even worse’n Texas since the war. No, Mexico’s the place to go. Lots of pretty senoritas, and a dollar goes real far there.”
“But I don’t speak Mexican.”
Wheat threw a companionable arm across his friend’s shoulders.
“Don’t you worry none about that. Your money’ll do your talkin’ for you.”
“Well . . . I guess it’s alright then. I guess if Hank can put up with them a while longer, I can, too.”
“Why?” Wheat asked. “What’s happenin’ with Hank?”
“Just . . . it’s damn fool stuff. Couple of them saw his ring and asked who he stole it from. When he told ‘em it was his ring, his initials, and his real name was Henry Maxwell Jenkins, they thought it was real funny. They been givin’ him a hard time about his fancy name ever since.”
Wheat shook his head. “Ain’t Hank ever heard, sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me?”
“Yeah, he has. It just goes to show Hank’s a better man than any of them.”
“You know what, Kyle? I’ll make it up to him. I’ll make sure he gets a bigger share of the haul than the other fellas. All the weight of that gold in his saddlebags will make up for a lot.”
“That’s real generous of you, Wheat. I’m sure he’s gonna appreciate that.”
Wheat slapped Kyle on the back. “Just don’t tell no one ahead of time. Those other fellas might not like hearing that.”
“I won’t. You got my word on that, too.”
“And there’s one more thing I’m fixin’ to do. Tomorrow morning, when all them fellas are sleeping off their fat heads, you collect your plunder and bring it to the leader’s cabin. You’re moving in with me.”
“You mean that, Wheat? You ain’t just funnin’ me?”
“Sure, I do. We’re partners, after all. ‘Sides, there’s pressy – a pressy – it’s been done before. Heyes and Kid were partners, weren’t they? And they shared the leader’s cabin.”
“But they was both leaders, Wheat,” Kyle objected. “You said I ain’t got the brains to be a leader.”
“Then I’ll be setting a new – a new pressy-dent. And you’ll be able to get some real sleep, not being in the bunkhouse no more.”
“Thank you kindly, Wheat. I’d like that. I surely would. And just think!” he said, his smile getting wider and wider. “This time next week, we’ll be rich men.”
"The failure in doing something is stopping too soon."
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Penski Moderator
Posts : 1808 Join date : 2012-04-22 Age : 63 Location : Northern California
Subject: Re: September 21 - the Train Tue Sep 14, 2021 3:02 pm
The Posse Train
“Stand and deliver!” The outlaw brandished his gun at the train engineer.
“Who says so?”
“Kid Curry!” The dark-haired man pointed his gun towards the blond outlaw.
“Hannibal Heyes!” The blond man pointed his gun towards the dark-haired outlaw.
The engineer sighed and jumped down out of the cab to where another outlaw was waiting.
“Over here with the others,” Wheat instructed the engineer as he gave him a gentle prod with his rifle.
Heyes and Kid Curry wandered over to the mail car and tried to open it.
A voice from inside the railcar said, “Go away!”
“Hey, Wilcox, is that you?” Heyes asked.
“Y-yes,” stammered the voice inside the car.
“Now you know what happened last time so why don’t you just open the door and save us both a lot of trouble?”
“B-but…”
“No buts! Open it, Wilcox, or we’ll dynamite it open again. 1 – 2...”
“Okay! Okay!” The door slid open, and a mousy clerk showed himself.
“That’s better.” Heyes grinned at the clerk. “Why don’t you go over by the other passengers where it’s safe?”
“Okay.” The clerk looked down dejectedly. He sat down on the edge of the railcar and carefully lowered himself to the ground.
“There’s safer jobs out there.” The Kid patted him on the back. “You should find one.”
Heyes jumped up into the car and looked at the safe before coming back to the door. “It’ll take me too long to open,” he informed his partner. “Kyle!”
Kyle came running with a huge smile and his saddle bags. “Do I getta blow it up?”
“Yeah, you get to blow it up.” Heyes jumped down from the car.
“Hee haw!” Kyle scrambled up into the railcar and over to the safe.
“Everyone back up over here where it’ll be safe. We’re usin’ explosives.” Wheat shouted to the passengers. Several other outlaws helped him guide the people behind a rock.
Kyle jumped down, lit the fuse, and ran.
“Fire in the hole!” Curry shouted as he and Heyes quickly dove for cover.
KA-BOOM!!!
Heyes and Kid Curry gingerly stood up, surveying the wreckage around them. The railcar was blown to smithereens and paper money floated down from the sky.
“Kyle, did you have to use all of it?” Curry grumbled as he caught some of the bills and stuffed them in his pocket.
Kyle shrugged and began grabbing at the money, along with the other outlaws.
The dazed passengers stared in bewilderment at the wreckage as well as the strange sight of several outlaws leaping around as they grabbed at the money.
The faint chugging of a train was heard in the distance. The two outlaws turned in unison towards the sound. Smoke and steam were visible in the sky.
“Heyes, what do you think that is?” the Kid asked.
“Not sure.” Heyes put his hands on his hips and watched in the distance as an engine pulling a single car came into sight. “But I don’t like what I’m seeing.”
The engine stopped a far distance from the held-up train. Then a shrill whistle sounded. The door to the lone car slid open and six men on horses vaulted from the train. The riders headed towards them at a breakneck speed.
“A posse train?!” Heyes shouted and quickly turned. “Forget the money! Let’s get going!”
The outlaws abandoned their money collecting and hurried to their horses. They kicked their mounts into a gallop and hurried away with the posse close behind them.
“Milton, we said leave it!” Curry shouted as he left to one of the newer gang members still gathering money.
Milton nodded and then hesitated to pick up another bill before getting on his horse. A bullet found its mark and he was dead before he hit the ground.
Kid Curry turned to shoot a volley over the posse’s heads to hopefully discourage them when he saw Milton fall. “Heyes, they’re good,” he shouted. “Really good!”
“Divide up!” Heyes yelled.
The outlaws divided into pairs and scattered in different directions.
Heyes and the Kid encouraged their horses up a rocky outcrop. When they reached near the top, Curry turned to see where the posse was. “They’re comin’ our way!”
“Our way?!” Heyes exclaimed. “What’s wrong with those guys?” He pointed in a different direction. “Why aren’t you following one of them? Why does it always have to be us?” he said as he kicked his horse into a gallop.
Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry tried every trick they knew to get rid of the posse: they rode on rocks, circled back, took advantage of every stream they found to hide their tracks, brushed their tracks from view, and ate hard tack with no fire, scowling and grumbling as they watched the posse in the valley below eating a hot meal.
After a week, with the posse still close on their heels, they made their way towards Devil’s Hole. Reaching the entrance, they shot three times in the air, jumped off their horses and climbed in the rocks, assured that several gang members were back and guarding the point. With at least five unseen outlaws shooting at them, the posse finally turned back.
The two weary and trail-filthy leaders climbed back in their saddles and walked the exhausted horses into their hideout.
Kyle and Hank came out of the bunkhouse and took the reins from their leaders. “We’ll care good care of ‘em. Don’t you worry none.”
Wheat came up to the leaders’ cabin. “So, you decided to come back?”
Both leaders gave him “the look” before making their way into the cabin.
“Heyes, I don’t know if I wanna bathe, eat, or sleep.” Curry hung his hat on a peg and threw his bags in a corner.
“Sleep,” Heyes yawned as he walked over to his bed. “I can’t keep my eyes open. We can eat and get cleaned up after a few hours of rest.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Curry trudged towards his bed, flopped face down onto his pillow and immediately fell asleep.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The cleaned and refreshed leaders sipped whiskey and smoked cigars outside of their cabin.
“Well, that was a robbery that went wrong.” Heyes downed his drink and poured another. “Figured we got a couple hundred dollars. No telling how much everyone grabbed and stuffed in their pockets.”
“Robbery had too high a price – Milton’s life. He should’ve listened and left the money.” Curry held out his glass for more. “Heyes, what exactly was that?”
“A posse train, near as I can figure.”
“A what?”
Heyes shrugged. “I guess the Pacific Union took offense at how much we’ve been robbing them, so they had a posse hidden in a train, following behind the train carrying a safe full of money.”
The Kid shook his head in disbelief. “Our job sure is gettin’ harder and more dangerous.”
“It sure is,” Heyes agreed.
“Maybe we oughta think about changin’ careers.”
“To what?” Heyes glanced sideways to his partner. “You wanna be a farmer? Eat dust in cattle drives? Or maybe be stuck in a mine for twelve hours a day?”
The Kid sighed. “Just sayin’ it ain’t fun no more. Sheriffs are communicatin’ faster with telegrams and now we have posse trains to worry 'bout.”
Heyes patted his friend on the knee. “I just gotta plan better for more possible problems. And speaking of planning, I heard about a train carrying $50,000. Thinking we could get it before Columbine…”
(Many thanks to the train robbery and chase scene in the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.)
_________________ h "Do you ever get the feeling that nothing right is ever going to happen to us again?" - Kid Curry
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nm131
Posts : 191 Join date : 2012-05-04 Location : New Jersey, USA
Subject: Re: September 21 - the Train Sat Sep 18, 2021 2:58 pm
Playing Trains
The scent of fresh sawdust was dominating the scent of horse, hay, and rose of sharon that was wafting in through the roughly framed window openings of the under-construction addition to the Curry’s modified Queen Ann ranch house. The Sunday afternoon sun was bathing the unfinished second story of the new wing in warm yellow light. Erin Curry and the two eldest girls, fourteen-year-old Sarah and twelve-year-old Rachel, had dragged Jed Curry to inspect the builder’s progress and engage in a bit of decorating imagination for their future spaces. Erin was delighted with the new large windows to be installed in the second story turreted room, serving as her painter’s studio. The eldest daughters were waiting impatiently to move down the hallway, past the room designated for Sean and Michael and into the large bedroom at the end of the addition that was being built for them.
“Can we go see our room now. Please. We’ve been waiting all week,” whined Rachel.
“Erin, you and the girls go on. I’m gonna run down and check on the rest of the kids out back and will be right back up.”
“Jed, I’m sure they’re fine. Kyle’s watching them and he is surprisingly good with the children. The Dunnes are in their rooms and even though it’s their day off, if Moira hears anything seriously amiss, she’ll be out there before you or I could get down there. Besides, Heyes is close by in the stable with Wheat looking over the horses.”
The patriarch of the growing Curry clan eyed his wife’s bulging abdomen with twinkling blue eyes. “I don’t know about that. I can move pretty fast when I have to. You, on the other hand, aren’t going anywhere quickly anytime soon.”
Erin gave a little laugh. “Being as I can barely see my toes, I guess you’re right. But whose fault is that?”
Jed pulled her close affectionately and landed a little kiss on her cheek. He pushed aside an errant whisp of auburn hair, blew a light warm puff of air, and whispered in her ear, “Takes two, darlin’ and I don’t recall you objectin’” He delighted in watching the faint pink blush rise up into her already glowing face. He stepped back and directed his attention to his stepdaughters waiting in the doorway. “Let’s see if they have your window seat framed out yet. Lead on girls.”
The females were standing in the middle of the half-finished older girls bed room indulging in talk about colors, furniture placement, and decorating ideas. The lone male was standing by the window examining the workmanship when his ears picked up the sounds of the rest of his children playing.
“Okay, this is the train. You sit there.” Was that seven-and-half-year-old Sean’s voice?
“We’re gonna be hiding behind the water trough over there. But you don’t know we’re there.” That was definitely six-year-old Michael.
“Where me be? Me play, too,” demanded the almost two-year-old Joshua.
“Go away. You be over there.” Michael wasn’t being especially nice and had no patience for his younger brother.
Kid leaned over the window seat between the built-in cupboards and shelves and peered out the window opening, searching the rear courtyard for the children. He spotted them by a small group of hay bales someone had dragged into a line. The four-year-old twins, Bridgit and Elizabeth, were sitting on one. Eliza had a paper bag, contents unknown, clutched tightly in one hand.
Kyle, who had been leaning in the family’s stable doorway, came over to intervene. “Just because he’s little don’t mean he can’t play. And I know your dad was the youngest boy in his family so he would say let Joshua play. And he was the youngest when he was growed up in the Devil’s Hole Gang and we always let him play.”
Kid quietly snorted at Kyle’s comments even as he unconsciously nodded his head in agreement.
Sean conceded as he started to push the youngest Curry boy towards his twin sisters. “You get on the train with Bridie and Eliza.”
Joshua happily trotted over and climbed up on the bale next to Eliza. He leaned over and grabbed at the paper bag in her hand. “Me want cookie.”
“No.” Eliza held the bag away from her little brother’s grasping grubby hands. She put the bag of cookies into an empty shoe box her sister handed her.
“The cookies are the loot. You have to rob the train to get a cookie and you’re not in our gang,” informed Michael.
Joshua scrabbled down off the hay bale and scampered behind the water trough where his oldest brother Sean was crouched down with a sling shot in one hand.
“Good going, Mike. Now we’ll never get rid of him,” disgust dripped heavily from Sean’s voice.
The children now had the full attention of their father, who remained unseen as he leaned further out the upstairs window.
The three boys came rushing out from behind the water trough hooting and hollering to stand a few feet away from the play-acting frightened girls on the hay bale train.
“Hand over the haul.” Sean shouted as he aimed his slingshot at the female guards on the train. He tried to look as mean and fierce as he could with blond curly hair, angelic features and big baby blue eyes.
“No. It’s all ours,” the girls yelled back. Eliza pulling the arm holding the box with the bag of cookie loot behind her.
Pong! A small stone hit the hale bale right between two pairs of dangling legs. Sean stood in a squared stance; his slingshot loaded with another small pebble still aiming at his sisters. “That was a warning, the next one will hit ya.” Sean had inherited his father’s impeccable aim and could make good his threat.
Bridie stuck her hand in her pinafore pocket and let loose a missile in a throw of her own. She also had fantastic hand eye coordination.
Splat, something squishy hit Michael in the face. His blue eyes widened in surprise and his face reddened in anger. He looked down and spotted a spooked, stunned, small toad. The six-year-old boy scooped the toad up before it could hop away and plunked it into his own jacket pocket before charging over to Bridie and pushed her hard, toppling her backwards almost off the hay bale.
Upstairs an annoyed “Hey,” slipped out of Kid. He turned to rush downstairs and bumped into Erin, who had quietly come up behind him. She slipped past him and gazed down out the window, grabbing onto her husband’s shirt to stop him.
“Wait, Jed. Look, let’s see what happens.”
Kyle gently helped Bridie sit up. He grabbed Michael and Sean by the arms and dragged them over to the water trough. He crouched down to their level and pushed his chaw into the side of his cheek. “Now let’s get some things straight. The Devil’s Hole Gang never robbed passengers.”
“They’re guards not passengers.” Sean interrupted.
“Yeah, well, okay then. Kid Curry would fire a warning shot if things looked like they would go bad …”
“I never fired at a passenger. That is unless one of the men decided to paly hero and I needed to disarm them. Mostly, I didn’t need to. And I would never shoot at a woman.” Kid whispered to his wife.
“Shsssh, they’re guards not passengers. Weren’t you paying attention? I know you guys were as gentlemanly as train robbers can be but you can’t tell me you never fired a warning shot at guard,” Erin whispered back.
Kid looked chagrined. He checked to make sure that Sarah and Rachel were still occupied in the planning and not paying attention to their parents. “Yeah, once in a while but they weren’t women, they were men with guns of their own.”
“…and Michael a boy never hits a girl.”
“She’s not a girl. She’s my sister. And I didn’t hit her, I pushed her. She wasn’t playing right and didn’t give up the loot.” Michael heatedly defended himself. Sean nodding his agreement right beside him.
“That’s ‘cause you’re not doing it right.” Unbeknownst to the pretend gang the once leader of the Devil’s Hole Gang had been watching from the stable door. Hannibal Heyes walked over to the little group. “We’ll start over and I’ll show you how.” He stood with his hands on his hips, surveying his play-acting gang.
“What’s he doin’?” Kid once more made to leave the room but Erin once again held him back as she couldn’t help light laughter at her husband’s genuine look of distress.
Jed Curry’s temper started to get hot at his wife’s amusement. “I don’t want them playing robbers.”
“Oh, Jed. Where’s your sense of humor? You don’t see Heyes all upset.”
“This isn’t funny, Erin. It’s bad enough they bear my name and will always have my past haunting them. I went to prison for armed robbery, and a bunch of other things, but the main charges were armed robbery. Heyes got an amnesty and while I wouldn’t have made it through without him, he can never really understand what it was like. I don’t want any of my children to know first-hand either.”
Erin’s smile melted away but her hand tightened her grip on Jed’s arm. “Honey, you have more than paid the price and you and Heyes have redeemed your reputation. By the time the boys are adults the name Curry will be associated with a successful businessman with offices in several cities, a breeder of fine horses, and a national and international champion marksman.”
Kid stopped resisting her hold but was clearly still set on stopping the pretend play.
“All boys go through phases and play sheriffs and robbers, or cowboys and Indians. You must have played those games too.”
“Yeah, but we fought to be the sheriffs not the robbers. And at that age we didn’t have a real former train robber givin’ us pointers. Heyes should know better. Heyes and I played pirates too and while we never held up a ship, we did hold up an awful lot of trains.”
“Just because they’re engaging their imagination in play doesn’t mean they’re going to turn into criminals. Most kids don’t, you know. Plus, we are teaching them right from wrong.”
“My folks taught me right from wrong and…”
Erin placed a firm finger against her husband’s lips to quiet him down. “Can we agree that the unique set of circumstances you grew up in is not likely to happen to our children and that if your parents had lived the course of your life would be vastly different?”
Jed didn’t answer but he did close his mouth and turn to look out the window. His stance was still balanced and poised to charge down the stairs if need be.
The little gang charged out from behind the water trough, Sean in the lead followed by Michael, Joshua, Kyle, and Heyes bringing up the rear.
“Stand and Deliver,” called Sean. He smiled at their guards then glanced back at his Uncle Heyes.
Heyes nodded his approval.
“Says who?” came from Michael.
Sean turned his slingshot towards his younger tow-headed brother. “Black Bart.”
Michael pointed his finger in the shape of a gun at his older brother. “Dead Eye Deke.”
Joshua jumped up and down waving his hands. “Me too. Me too.”
Kyle joined in, “We’s the Running Horse Gang.”
“So, we’ll just be taking the loot with us and no one gets hurt,” Sean informed the pretend guards
“No.” answered the very stubborn Eliza.
Sean loaded his slingshot.
Heyes stepped up and smiling his most charming grin. “Now, we don’t want anyone hurt so let’s all be friendly-like and cooperate. Then this train can go on its way.”
Bridie and Eliza’s hazel eyes met; mischievous defiant smiles broke out on their lightly freckled faces. “No, never. You can go on your way without the loot.”
Kid Curry smiled in spite of himself and he pulled back from the window slightly. “You know, it’s a wonder the railroads never tried employing women guards. That might have stopped us cold. I definitely wouldn’t have hurt a woman and Heyes wouldn’t allow anyone else to either. If he couldn’t sweet talk the gal around I’m not what we would have done.” Erin swallowed her laughter and just smiled back at her husband, the former train robber.
“Well, I guess we’ll need the explosive demolition experts to open the box safe.” Heyes waved Kyle and Joshua over. The had a hasty conference that left the littlest gang member bouncing up and down in delight.
The twins’ eyes grew large as they sat on the hay bale train car when Joshua and Kyle rushed them. Kyle threw his arms around the girls and held them down as Joshua started to tickle them. The rest of the gang joining in. Amid the increasing laughter, Sean hadn’t lost sight of his objective. He purloined the abandoned box safe, slid down to the ground on the other side of the hay bale, and opened it, pulling out the paper bag of cookies.
Kid couldn’t help the smirk and giggle that escaped in spite of his still disapproving of the train robbing game. “I see Heyes’ plan worked but I don’t think it would have with the Devil’s Hole Gang and women guards. I can’t see me rushing one and holding her down to tickle. She would have slapped me silly, probably bit and scratched too that is if she didn’t blow a hole in me first.”
The tickle fest was still going on while Sean grabbed a cookie and took a bite. Heyes rolled over onto his back and spied the munching munchkin out of the corner of his eye.
“Hey, the Devil’s Hole Gang had equal shares of the loot. Pass the cookies around, Sean,” Heyes instructed.
“We did too, after the cut for the overhead was taken out first.” Kid reached down and took hold of Erin’s hand. “Come on girls, lets go join the rest of the family outside the stables. There’s cookies to be had.” Then a little quieter aside to his wife, “I’m still going to have a word with Heyes and Kyle on appropriate play.”
Erin sighed as she followed Jed, Sarah and Rachel a little slower. She thought Jed was getting worked up over innocent play for nothing. The problem was more in his head but maybe he was entitled.
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EleanorW
Posts : 64 Join date : 2012-04-22 Age : 101 Location : UK
Subject: Re: September 21 - the Train Sun Sep 19, 2021 10:20 am
Finally managed to dust off the brain cells this month. Just managed to finish before I go on holiday
THE TRAIN
“Kid! Kid, wake up!” Hannibal Heyes reached over to shake his partner awake, having been woken by his anguished yells.
Kid Curry woke, abruptly, his breath coming in short gasps, a look of panic in his eyes.
Heyes placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “Relax. It was just a bad dream.”
Curry pulled himself into a sitting position, facing their camp fire, pulling his knees up and resting one elbow across them while he raked his other hand through his unruly curls as he tried to dispel the panic raised by the nightmare.
“Was it that same dream again?” asked Heyes, eyeing his friend compassionately.
Curry nodded. “Yeah.”
He’d had this same nightmare several times over the past few weeks; Riding along a railway track he would spot what appeared to be a teenage boy, sitting on the track, some distance away, with his back to him, and then hear the whistle of an oncoming train. Despite shouting, and firing a warning shot from his gun, the boy seemed oblivious. Kicking his horse into motion he would race towards him, arriving just as the train came around the bend. It was then that he realized that the boy was deaf and couldn’t hear him or the train, and also that his foot had somehow become wedged between the tracks and he had been trying to free himself.
“You’ve had that dream a few times lately.” Heyes’ voice broke into his reverie.
“Yeah.” agreed Curry. In the dream he hadn’t managed to save the boy and he believed this was why the dream kept recurring, as his subconscious mind tried to change the ending.
“Want some coffee?” Heyes enquired.
Curry shook his head. “What time is it?”
“Heyes pulled out his pocket watch. “Just after two a.m.”
Curry grimaced. “Sorry, I woke you. Best try and get a few more hours sleep.”
Heyes nodded and they settled back down in their bedrolls.
A few days later found them in a small town a few days ride north east of Denver, where they stopped off for a couple of days relaxation – to enjoy the luxury of sleeping in a proper bed, instead of camping out on the trail, and, hopefully, to increase their finances at the local poker tables.
After checking in at the hotel they headed up to the bathhouse, for a long overdue bath, and then got their hair cut before heading over to the restaurant for an early supper.
Later, they adjourned to the saloon where Curry stationed himself at the bar, from where he could watch Heyes’ back while he played poker.
None of the patrons were particularly adept at poker and it wasn’t long before Heyes had amassed a decent sum of money in front of him.
He decided to quit, before he took all their money and have them turn against him, planning to play again the next evening when, hopefully, there would be some different players in the group.
After a couple more drinks, he and Curry returned to the hotel.
They slept late the following morning, before heading to the restaurant for a late breakfast-early lunch.
As they left the restaurant, they noticed a man, on the opposite side of the street, staring intently at them.
“Ever seen that guy before?” Curry asked, without showing any sign that he’d spotted the man watching them.
“No, but I get the distinct feeling that he’s seen us before.” replied Heyes.
Instead of going into the hotel, they walked past it and around the corner where, pressing themselves against the wall, they surreptitiously peered around the corner of the building to see where the man went, not surprised when they saw him hurrying across the street to the Sheriff’s office.
Exchanging anxious glances, Heyes said, “You pay the hotel bill, I’ll get our things.”
Curry nodded and they hurried into the hotel, Curry stopping at the front desk while Heyes took the stairs two at a time.
“Can you make up our bill, please. We’re leaving.” Curry addressed the desk clerk.
“So soon? You only arrived yesterday. I trust the reason for your departure isn’t anything to do with our hotel?”
“No. The hotel is fine. How much we owe you?”
“Four dollars, sir.” the desk clerk smiled politely.
Curry put the money down on the desk. “Got a back door?”
“Of course, sir, just down the corridor over there on the right.” The desk clerk quickly picked up the money, still smiling politely and giving no indication of surprise at Curry’s question.
Curry turned away from the desk in time to see Heyes hurrying down the stairs with their belongings.
“This way.” Curry nodded towards the corridor the desk clerk had indicated.
“Have a safe journey, gentlemen. Next time you’re in town we hope you’ll consider staying with us again.” the desk clerk called after them, his smile still fixed on his face.
Heyes and Curry exchanged bemused expressions, at his words, before exiting the building through the back door.
Skirting around the back of the buildings, to keep out of sight, they headed to the livery where they quickly saddled their horses and headed out of town.
Over in the Sheriff’s office, the man was busily explaining that he had been on a train robbed by the Devil’s Hole Gang, a couple of years previously, and had recognized Heyes and Curry coming out of the town’s restaurant.
The Sheriff quickly organised a posse. After discovering two men answering their descriptions had recently departed the hotel, and then establishing from the liveryman the direction in which the two men had left town, they set off in pursuit of them.
Some miles out of town, Curry glanced over his shoulder for any sign of pursuit as they galloped their horses.
“How far behind us do you reckon they are?” he shouted across to Heyes.
“Not far.”
“Maybe we should split up?” suggested Curry, “Might give us a better chance of one of us getting away?” But Heyes shook his head.
“Let’s head north and hope they won’t follow us over the state line.”
An hour or so later they came across a stream and stopped to give their horses a breather and drink.
Heyes re-filled their canteens while Curry scanned the horizon for any sign of pursuit, suddenly doing a double take.
“Look.” He pointed.
Heyes followed his gaze to see a dust cloud in the distance.
“Let’s get going.” he said, swinging into the saddle and spurring his horse.
Curry ran to his own horse and took off after him.
They raced onwards, wondering how long their horses would be able to keep up the pace.
When they came to a bank of small hills, half an hour later, Curry held back, scanning the horizon from the highest point, to judge how far behind them the posse were.
“Come on!” yelled Heyes, carrying on riding.
“I’ll catch you up.” Curry yelled after him, shading his eyes against the afternoon sun as he scoured the horizon.
The dust cloud was still visible but seemed a little further away than it had done earlier.
Turning his horse, Curry galloped after Heyes, who was now a good three hundred yards ahead of him.
Off to his right he spotted the railway line, which curved through the northern part of Colorado before veering off back into Nebraska and on towards Wyoming.
Ahead of him, Heyes was just about to cross the railway line, unaware of a rattlesnake that lay on the tracks, basking in the sun.
As his horse approached the line, the snake began to shake its rattle.
The horse, spooked by the snake, twisted away and then reared up, pitching Heyes out of the saddle to land heavily on the track, slamming his head hard against the metal rail and whirling down into unconsciousness.
“Heyes!” Curry yelled, as he saw his partner pitch out of the saddle.
Just then, a train whistle pierced the air.
Turning, Curry saw the train, coming from the east.
He turned to look again at Heyes, praying to see him get up and move off the tracks, but he remained motionless.
Curry urged his horse faster, praying he could get to him before the train did.
Suddenly, the nightmare he’d suffered these past few weeks, pushed its way into his mind, causing his stomach to turn over. He hadn’t been able to save the boy in the dream. Would he be able to save Heyes? Or had the dream been a premonition of this very event – of Heyes’ death?
Eyeing the rapidly approaching train he spurred his horse on, praying Heyes was still alive. He’d seen men break their necks in falls like that, before now.
Pulling out his gun he fired into the air, in the vain hope of alerting the train driver of the danger ahead. But the train continued at speed.
Curry finally reached the line, pulling his horse to a skidding stop and leaping out of the saddle.
He raced across to Heyes, one eye on the train which looked dangerously close.
“Heyes?” he called, dropping to his knees at his side, but he received no response.
Reaching out two fingers he pressed them to Heyes’ neck, relieved to feel a pulse at least, although there was no knowing what kind of injury he may have sustained in the fall.
He looked again at the train. It was now only moments away.
Grabbing hold of Heyes’ jacket he dragged his unconscious form off the track, onto the dirt, seconds before the train thundered past, sounding its whistle loudly at the obstruction on the line.
Curry sat down, heavily, leaning back on his elbows as he tried to get his breath and calm his pounding heart. That had been close. Too close. A few seconds more and Heyes would have been dead, crushed by the wheels of the train.
The thought turned his stomach and he leaned over, fearing he was going to throw up.
It was several moments before the nausea passed. He sat up, placing his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands as he tried to calm himself, his mind returning to the dream and its possible implications. If he hadn’t hung back to check for the posse he would have been by Heyes’ side and would have been able to pull him away from danger in plenty of time. He chastised himself for falling behind, knowing that it could easily have cost his friend his life.
A groan from Heyes drew him from his reverie. Scrambling to his knees he moved to kneel at Heyes’ side.
“Heyes?” he called, gently patting his cheek.
Heyes gave another groan and then his eyes fluttered open. He stared up at Curry, obviously confused as to where he was and what had happened.
“Wh-what… happened…?” he croaked, reaching a hand up to touch the side of his head, which felt like someone had hit him with a rock.
“Your horse threw you, onto the track. You must have hit your head on the rail line and knocked yourself out.”
Heyes stared up at the sky as he contemplated Curry’s words.
“Snake...” he muttered, presently. “on the line… Spooked the horse…”
Curry looked around him. “I guess your horse must have spooked the snake too… it aint here no more.” he said, as he moved to help Heyes up into a sitting position, glad that he didn’t have a snake bite to contend with too.
“Ooh, my head…” muttered Heyes, holding his head in his hands as dizziness overcame him.
Presently, the dizziness subsided and he dropped his hands, to see Curry staring at him with an anguished expression.
“I’m okay.” he said, interpreting Curry’s expression as concern for any possible injury, “Just let me rest a couple of minutes and I’ll be good to go.”
“Ha!” grunted Curry, as his pent up emotions burst out. “Heyes, do you know how close you just came to dying?” he yelled, his voice rising several pitches. “This much,” he held his finger and thumb fractionally apart, “that’s all.”
“Huh?” Heyes looked puzzled.
“After you got thrown, a train came down the line. You were out cold, in the middle of the track, and I was way behind you. I didn’t think I’d reach you before the train did…”
“But you did.” said Heyes.
“Barely. When I got to you, the train was moments away. I dragged you off the track with literally five seconds to spare…” Curry shook his head, still scarcely able to believe how close Heyes had come to being decimated by the train. “If I’d been five seconds later, it would have been too late…” Curry trailed off, shaking his head to himself.
Heyes’ mouth formed an ‘O’ as the realization began to hit home.
Their eyes met and held, Curry’s full of the angst he’d just endured, Heyes’ of gratitude.
“Thank you.” he said presently.
“You’re welcome.” replied Curry, letting the tension out of his body in deep sigh. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Anything broke?”
Heyes gave himself a cursory examination before shaking his head and then wishing he hadn’t as it caused the pain in his head to increase. “Oww.” he said, rubbing the area, just above his right ear.
Curry examined the spot. “There’s no cut.” he told him. “But you’re probably gonna have a headache for a while. You landed pretty hard.” Then, remembering the posse, he said, “Think you can ride? That posse can’t be far behind us.”
“Sure.” said Heyes. His head hurt like hell and he would have liked to rest a while longer, but they couldn’t afford to linger here with that posse so close behind them so he pasted on a smile and held out his arm for Curry to help him to his feet, swaying dizzily as he did so.
“You O.K?” Curry looked concerned.
Heyes nodded, rubbing his painful head, while Curry retrieved his horse, which had wandered off to nibble on a patch of grass some yards away, and boosted him up into the saddle.
“This rail line crosses back into Nebraska not far from here.” Heyes said, as Curry mounted his own horse. “If we follow the line back into Nebraska, with luck the posse won’t follow us. And then maybe we can catch up with the train when it makes a stop for water and perhaps hitch a ride?”
“Sounds like a plan.” said Curry.
With a glance over their shoulders, to make sure the posse wasn’t in sight, they set off at a gallop, following the train line.
Hours later, reclining in one of the box cars of the train, which they’d caught up with at a water stop, Curry was in reflective mood.
Heyes gave him a sidelong glance. “What’ya thinkin’?”
Curry shrugged. “Just about what happened back on the railway line… You know, Heyes, that dream I’ve been having lately… I’m thinking it must have been some kind of premonition of what was going to happen today.”
Heyes eyed him curiously. “But in that dream, I thought you said the boy died?”
Curry nodded. “He did. But…it seems odd that he was stuck on the train line and couldn’t hear me because he was deaf, and you were on the train line and couldn’t hear me because you were unconscious.”
“Coincidence.” said Heyes.
“I dunno… I have no idea what started that dream. It wasn’t like I’d read anything, or overheard any conversation that might have triggered it. It just started out of the blue.”
“Since you said the boy in the dream died, and I didn’t, I don’t think it was necessarily a premonition… perhaps more a case of your fears about not being able to protect me coming through in your dreams. After all, we have been chased by a fair few posses this past few months, and come close to getting killed more than once. I think that’s more likely the trigger for it.”
Curry sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Still seems a bit odd though.” He shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to wait and see if I have the dream again."
“Even if you do, it don’t necessarily mean it’s a premonition of any kind. The trouble with you is you worry too much. You need to relax more!” said Heyes, as he put his hat over his face in readiness to take a nap.
Curry gave him a withering look. “Heyes, trying to keep you alive and out of trouble takes up all of my time and most of my energy. The only way I’m ever gonna get the chance to relax is if I kill you myself!” he growled.
Heyes lifted up his hat and looked at Curry who was giving him his best gunman’s stare.
They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Curry’s face broke into a grin.
With a wry shake of his head, Heyes replaced his hat over his face while Curry sat studying him, his mind returning to the events of the afternoon and of how close Heyes had come to being killed. A shudder ran through him at the thought, and he found himself giving thanks, for his friend’s deliverance, to a God he no longer believed in.
Yes, keeping Heyes, and himself, alive was a full time job, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Presently, with a rueful smile, he too lay back and put his hat over his face.
They jumped off the train a few hours later, just outside of Cheyenne, and after picking up a couple of horses they headed towards Porterville, having decided to pay a visit to Lom for an update on the status of their amnesty application. Over time, the close call with the train faded from their immediate memories as other more pressing incidents and mishaps threatened them and their quest for amnesty. And Curry never did have the dream again.
Wed Sep 01, 2021 5:53 am
