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 March 2020 A Pair of Knaves

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PostSubject: March 2020 A Pair of Knaves   March 2020  A Pair of Knaves Icon_minitimeSun Mar 01, 2020 5:31 am

Hello to one and all...

This title has been on the challenge list (known in capitals as The LIST) for - oooh- a along time.

Let your fertile and febrile brains consider;

"A pair of Knaves..."

blackjack blackjack blackjack
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Posts : 1609
Join date : 2012-04-22
Age : 60
Location : Northern California

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PostSubject: Re: March 2020 A Pair of Knaves   March 2020  A Pair of Knaves Icon_minitimeSun Mar 22, 2020 10:04 am

First?  I'm first outta the gate for once? wow

A Pair of Knaves – March 2020

“Stand and deliver!”

“Henry, what is it?  What can you see? asked a pretty blonde with curls framing her face.

“Oh my, Anna, I do believe there are robbers outside.”

“You mean like outlaws?!”  Anna gasped as she put her gloved hands to her pale face.

“Fear not, dear sister, I shall…”

Several men brandishing guns boarded the train.  

“This here’s a stick-up!  Leave your baggage and exit the train!” a tall man with a mustache declared.  “You, too, ma’am.”  Suddenly he turned and trained his weapon on a man to his left and cocked it.  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mister!  Kyle, git over there an' take that man's gun.”

“Okay, Wheat,” a dirty, shorter man said.  “Gimme the gun, mister.”

Reluctantly, the salesman handed over his derringer.

“Come quick, Anna.”  Henry stood and held out his hand to his sister.  He directed her towards the back door of the train car.

A man wearing black was outside assisting the passengers off the train.  “This way.  No one will get hurt, God willing, unless you do something foolish.”

Henry jumped down to the ground and turned to help Anna.  “Would you allow me to assist my sister, sir?”

“Fair enough.”  Preacher stepped aside for a moment.  “Head on over under that tree with the rest of the folks so you’re outta the sun.”

“Are you alright, Anna?” Henry whispered as he held her arm while they walked.

“I am well,” she responded.  “but I am also quite frightened. When I told you I wished to experience America’s great West, I never imagined something like this!”

“And they are robbing the train!” exclaimed Henry. “Father and mother would never have let us come across this country to San Francisco if they had imagined such a thing for us!”  He led her to a fallen tree trunk.  “Have a seat.”

“Ma, it’s the Devil’s Hole Gang!” declared a young boy with straight brown hair under a hat.  “I just know it’s the Devil’s Hole Gang!”

“Shush, Bobby!”  The woman tried to grab his hand, but he scampered away.  “Bobby, you get back here!”

Bobby stopped in his tracks and held up his hand to shade his eyes while he watched the outlaws.

“I’ll fetch him back for you, madam.”  Henry gestured towards his sister.  “Rest assured, I will make sure he is safe. Stay with your little ones and do me the honour of keeping my sister company.”

“Thank you, sir.”  The woman holding a baby in one arm and gripping the hand of a toddler in her other, dropped down with a deep, weary sigh.  “Sit down next to the nice lady, Abigail.”  The toddler climbed up on the log, sat down, and leaned against her mother before sticking her thumb into her mouth and sucking on it.

“Bobby… Bobby.”  Henry walked up to the boy.  “Come and watch from here under the tree.  We would not wish to make those outlaws angry with us now, would we?”  He firmly grasped the boy’s hand and led him back.  “See, you can still observe everything from here.”  

Anna reached into her reticule and pulled out a peppermint.  “May I offer her one?”

The mother nodded.  “She’d like that.”

Anna removed the wrapping and held out the candy.  “Abigail, would you like to suck on this sweetie?  I venture it will taste better than your thumb.”

The toddler looked confused.  “Sweetie?” she asked.  

“It’s candy,” her mother explained.

Abigail immediately nodded eagerly.  “Please.”

“There you are, then.”

“Tank you,” replied Abigail as she put it in her mouth.

“Who is this Devil’s Hole Gang and how do you know it is them?” Henry asked Bobby.

“Don’t you read any dime novels, mister?”

“I have not yet had that pleasure.”

“Well, the Devil’s Hole Gang is famous!  They’re led by Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry.  The Kid is the fastest gun in the whole West!  I bet that’s them over there by the baggage car.”  Bobby pointed to two men.

Anna and Henry both watched the men talking by the car, the darker hair man pointing inside.

“That’s Hannibal Heyes pointing to the safe.  Probably decidin’ if he can open it by listenin’ or if they have to blow it.”

“So, the blond outlaw with him is Kid Curry then?  What does he do?  Is he what they call a gunslinger?” Henry asked.

“I guess you could say that, but Kid Curry don’t kill.  He’s that fast!  He just beats everyone to the draw and they give up.”

“Oh dear, and now it looks like they are coming over here.”  Henry stepped back and pulled Bobby with him.

“We don’t have to be afraid of them,” exclaimed Bobby.

“And why is that?” Anna asked.

“They don’t rob or hurt the passengers.  They just want what’s in the safe.” Bobby turned and looked at the brother and sister.  “You guys talk funny.”

“Robert Daniel!” the mother scolded, a blush staining her cheeks scarlet.  “I am so sorry!”

“That’s quite alright.  I’m sure it does sound funny to you.  It’s because we don’t come from here.”  Anna put a hand on the mother’s hand.  “We are from England, Bobby – a faraway country.  Have you heard of it?”

“Oh sure!  George Washington beat you in a war.  Huh, Mom?”

“Robert Daniel, that is not nice to say,” his mother rebuked him.

“He’s quite right though.  It is sad but true.”  Henry smiled, but quickly frowned.  “Here they come.”

“Not a word from you, Robert Daniel!” the mother warned her son.

“Yes, ma.”  Bobby sighed.

“Sorry, folks.”  Kid Curry tipped the brim of his hat.  “Looks like we’re gonna havta use dynamite so we’re gonna have to ask you to move further down where it’ll be safer.”  He glanced about and pointed.  “That tree over there should be good.”

And older woman sitting beside Anna stood up too fast and almost fell.

“Whoa, ma’am!”  Kid Curry reached out and steadied her.  He held her arm until she regained her balance.  “Allow me to help you since the ground isn’t very smooth.”

“Thank you, young man,” the woman reluctantly walked with the outlaw leader.

“Least I can do, ma’am.”

“Kyle!” came a shout from the train.

“Comin’, Heyes!” called out the shorter outlaw who had helped with the passengers.  “Good think I brung the good stuff!”

“Allow us to assist you with your children,” Anna offered.  “Henry has Bobby and I am happy to help with Abigail.”

“Would you walk with me, Bobby?” Henry asked.

Kid Curry turned his head slightly.  “You two from England or Ireland?”

“England!” Henry firmly stated.

“Heyes’ grandpa’s from there.”

“And if your surname is Curry, I can assume your family is from Ireland?”

“Yep, my Grandpa Curry.”  The Kid removed his bandana and wiped a cobweb from a log.  “Sit here, ma’am.  You should be safely outta the way now.  Shouldn’t take too much longer.”

“I suppose you’ll be wanting these.”  The elderly woman began removing her rings.


“Aren’t you robbing us?”

“No, ma’am!  We’re only here for the money in the safe.”

“You’re Kid Curry, aren’t you?  You don’t rob from the passengers – just the banks and railroads,” Bobby quickly blurted out.  “Can I see you draw?  Can I?  All the dime novels say you can draw like greased lightning!  I wanna see you twirl your gun back into the holster.  Please, Kid Curry?” he pleaded and gazed at his hero with eyes filled with adoration.

“Robert Daniel!”  The young mother looked aghast.  “I’m so sorry, mister!”

“No problem, ma’am.  Robert, is it?”

“Ma calls me Robert Daniel when I’m in trouble.  Usually I’m just Bobby.”

“Well, Bobby, I hate to disappoint you, but my partner’s needin’ me.  Besides, guns aren’t nothin’ to play around with, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”  Bobby hung his head and sighed loudly.

“The rest of you folks okay?”  Kid Curry glanced around to make sure folks were nodding.  “Wheat, Preacher and Lobo, stay with them and make sure they stay safe.”


“Comin’, Heyes!”  Kid Curry hurried back to the train’s baggage car.

“Are the passengers safe?”


“Do they know we’re gonna have to use dynamite?”

“Yep, I warned ‘em.  You and Kyle about ready?”

“Yeah.  He’s attaching the fuse now.”

“Didn’t let him use too much of the good stuff, did you?  Just need the safe blown and not the whole car like last time.”

Heyes scowled.  “He didn’t use too much this time.  Just enough for the safe.  I made sure.”

Kyle jumped down from the baggage car.  “Fuse is ready to light, Heyes.  Are you sure we shouldn’t have jus’ one more stick?”

“NO!” Heyes and Curry exclaimed together.

Kyle frowned.  “I’s jus’ askin’!”

“Kyle, why don’t you help watch the horses and calm them down when the blast happens.”

“Okay, Heyes.”

Heyes struck a match.  “Ready, Kid?”

“Ready when you are.”

Heyes lit the fuse and the two ran from the train and dived behind a log.

“Fire in the hole!”

“Cover your ears, folks!” Wheat shouted as he put his hands over his own ears.

A moment later… KABOOM!

Hannibal Heyes and the Kid peered above the log and smiled when they saw an intact train car and an opened safe door inside it.

“You did it, Heyes!” the Kid cried out as they rushed over to the baggage car, jumped inside and began filling bags with the money.

“Whoo wee… Did you see that, ma?”

“Yes, Bobby, I saw it.”  His mother was comforting the crying baby, who was frightened from the explosion.

“As exciting as it may seem, Bobby, these men are actually thieves who are breaking the law,” Henry informed him.  “Good people will be hurt badly by these losses.”

“Yes.  It means that many people won’t get paid and livelihoods are at risk when people lose so much.  That is enough to temper any excitement I would think.”  Anna rocked a scared toddler sitting in her lap.

“I didn’t think about that.”  Bobby hung his head.

“Hank and Kyle, bring the horses!  The rest of you help the passengers board!” Heyes shouted as he and the Kid began walking towards the where the passengers were gathered.  “Sorry for the inconvenience, folks.”  He tipped the brim of his hat with one finger.  “You’ll be on your way again in about fifteen minutes.  Engineer, you and the fireman can start stoking up the firebox.”

“Ma’am, would you like help back to the train?” Curry asked the elderly woman he had assisted earlier.

“I’d rather you help me than the rest of your gang.  Tell me, young man, does your gang ever bathe?”

The Kid chuckled.  “Only when we make ‘em, ma’am.”

Heyes began assisting folks back up into the car.  “Allow me.”  He gently took Abigail from Anna’s arms and lifted her up into the car.  “May I?”  He offered a hand to Anna.

Blushing, Anna took the proffered hand.  “You may.”  Heyes helped her up and she turned.  “Thank you.”

“Pleasure’s mine, ma’am.”  Heyes winked at her.

“Glad to meet you, Mr. Heyes.”  Bobby held out his hand.

Heyes shook it.  “Glad to meet you, too…?”

“Bobby,” the Kid informed him.  “Robert Daniel when he’s in trouble.”

“My ma called me by my full name, too, when I got in trouble.  Of course, I didn’t get in as much trouble as the Kid.”  Heyes smiled.

“Hey, you were the one startin’ all the trouble!”  Curry shook his head.  “Hope you enjoy your trip to the West, mister.”  The Kid helped Henry get on board.  “Well, that’s the last of them.”

“Then let’s get outta here.”  Heyes mounted his horse and the others followed suite.  

Kid Curry waved to Bobby, who was watching from the window.  He drew his gun and twirled in back into the holster.

The engineer released the steam valve and the train jerked to a start.

“THAT was quite the adventure,” commented Henry as he watched the gang ride away.  “I will say this though.  For such a pair of knaves, they were the epitome of politeness.”

“They were indeed, and handsome, as well!”  Anna blushed.

Thanks to my friend Allegra for making my American sound more British.

"Do you ever get the feeling that nothing right is ever going to happen to us again?" - Kid Curry

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PostSubject: Re: March 2020 A Pair of Knaves   March 2020  A Pair of Knaves Icon_minitimeSun Mar 29, 2020 3:36 pm

Beginner’s Luck

“Aha, mateys, a pair of knaves!”

Hannibal Heyes smiled at the sailor. “They’re called jacks, and you’re not supposed to show us your cards.”

“No matter—jacks, knaves—call ‘em what ya will but I have what it takes to open, accordin’ to your rules!” The grizzled neophyte poker player bared a grin in the ex-outlaw’s direction as he waved his cards to the players. “Ah, ya mateys taught me well.” Without further ado, he took three cards from his hand and laid them face up In front of him. “’I’ll be havin’ tre cards.”

The fellow to Heyes’s right grabbed the cards of the sailor next to him, only to be slapped on the wrist by the beginner. “Ya’ll leave ‘em where they be!”

“They’re supposed to be face down!” the slapped one explained. “And be warned, fella, ya touch me one more time and we’ll settle this in the street!”

The sailor smirked. “No need o’ that, matey. I’se just followin’ your rules. My cards’ll stay right wheres they are.”

The fellow to Heyes’s right stood up suddenly, almost upending the table. His hand had barely touched his holster when he heard a click behind him. He turned to see Jed “Kid” Curry motioning to him with his Colt to return to his seat.

Kid’s blue eyes held no threat. “Now, this is supposed to be a friendly game. The sailor fella there just learned to play, so why not give him a chance to get it right before gettin’ all excited.”

“I don’t see no badge on ya!” challenged the man standing.

Curry shrugged and widened his eyes, motioning with the Colt for the man to sit down.

He did, simultaneously muttering, “I don’t want no trouble.” He placed his hands on the table in full view lest the blue-eyed gunman behind him go from calm to trigger happy and shoot him in the back.

Heyes’s poker-faced glance slid from his partner to the man to his right. “None of us do.”

The man sighed audibly when he heard the slap of leather behind him as Curry holstered his pistol.

The dealer found his voice after remaining silent. “Okay, gents, your cards. We’ll start a new hand.”

The sailor picked up his three discarded cards and held them tightly in his hand. “No, siree, I got this pair o’knaves, and I’m openin’.”

“Come on, fella, these gents are right. Your cards have to be face down and known only to you,” the dealer explained. “Sorry if we didn’t make that clear.”

“Nope, we’ll play this one out,” insisted the sailor. He re-placed his discarded cards on the table in front of him, this time face down. “There, just like ya want ‘em. I’ll still take tre.”

You could hear the proverbial pin drop for the next several seconds as each of the gamblers eyed each other in indecision. Finally, Heyes threw in his cards. “I’m out.” The others followed in turn.

The sailor looked dumbfounded. His dander rose. “What’s this?! Ya sit down to a game and none o’ya will own up to playin’! What’s the sense in it, then?” He threw his cards down in disgust. Eying the ante, he said, “So, not fair I have to lose a nickel over ya mateys not followin’ through. Ain’t none o’ya navy men, I suppose.”

The dealer spoke up, “Man, you won.”

Before it sunk in to the sailor, the fellow to Heyes’s right said, “Let it ride.”

Heyes spoke to the man in a calm tone, “Come on, friend, he won, fair and square, like it or not.” He put up a palm as the man started to sputter. “We all threw in our cards.”

“That’s right,” the dealer did not lose a beat in picking up where Heyes left off. “The ante’s yours, sailor, but from now on you don’t show any of your cards or you don’t play, got that?”

The sailor’s eyes had followed each of the speakers as they spoke, and he took a moment to digest all that was said. Finally, he looked at each of the other five gamblers in turn and rose and started to walk away.

“Good, we’re better off playin’ without ya,” said the fellow to Heyes’s right.

The sailor stopped in his tracks and turned toward the table. “No, siree, matey, ya’ll not be gettin’ rid o’me that quick. I’s just marchin’ myself over to the bar for whatever rot gut that bartendy can serve up. I’m gonna need a good stiff one if’n ya’ll be expectin’ me to play with my sails down!”

Fast is fine, but accuracy is everything. ~ Wyatt Earp
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PostSubject: Re: March 2020 A Pair of Knaves   March 2020  A Pair of Knaves Icon_minitimeTue Mar 31, 2020 7:07 pm

This one is for Wichita Red.  She posted a great picture on Facebook and, when I saw it, this story wrote itself.

“Heyes, hey, Heyes, come on over here and take a gander at this,” yelled Wheat Carlson across the smoke-filled saloon.  The piano player stopped pounding out a tune and eyes turned.  First, to the tall mustached man doing the yelling and then to the scowling, dark-haired outlaw leader seated with his partner.

“You think he’ll ever learn?” said Heyes with a sigh.

“Nope.”  The Kid smirked and took another sip of good whiskey.  “Lucky for us Maisie shuts it down to let us whoop it up in here.”  He glanced around the Golden Spur’s private gambling hall.  The entire gang in one place made him nervous but the boys had to blow off steam somehow or they’d be causing trouble in the Hole.  It had been a good job and the money was burning a hole in all their pockets.  The lovely young lady on his lap giggled and squirmed her way out of his arms, scooping up her tray of filled glasses.  “I’ll see you later, darlin’,” drawled Curry with a wink.  She stooped and gave him a provocative kiss before continuing her circuit of tables.

“Yeah, and it’s gonna be real unlucky for Wheat if he someday does that in front of the wrong folks,” growled Heyes.  The piano player had started up again but Wheat was still waving to him and getting ready to bellow again.  “I’ll go see what he wants.”  Standing up, Heyes grabbed his drink and drained it in one gulp.  “Order us another round, will you?”

“I’m comin’ with you.  I gotta see what’s got Wheat so excited.” The Kid’s chair scraped back as he rose to follow Heyes.  From the balcony skirting the upper half of the far wall, he could see Maisie watching the tables.  Next to her stood Bart, her right hand man and her muscle.  Bordello ownership was a rough and complicated business for most men, let alone a beautiful woman, but Maisie had surrounded herself with loyal, capable men to make sure it all ran smoothly and, most importantly, her favored customers were not bothered while they relaxed.   The Kid smiled.  If the he and the gang were her favored customers, Heyes was her favorite.  He saw her eyes track his partner as Heyes sauntered to the back table next to the bar.  It didn’t bother the Kid any.  Maisie was a handful and Heyes liked a challenge.  Him, he preferred his women a little more compliant.  As though she had heard him thinking her name, Maisie nodded at the Kid as she started down the stairs.

Wheat was nearly dancing with excitement and half the gang crowded around him.  Kyle, Preacher, Hank, and Lobo all grinned like jackals.

“What’s up, Wheat?” asked Heyes.  The bigger man was shielding something behind him from his leader’s view.  The boys were chuckling with delight and the Kid was beginning to wonder what sort of prank they were getting ready to pull.  He walked over to join his partner.  Judging by the expensive scent in the air, Maisie was coming up next to him.  Curry turned slightly and pulled her forward making sure no one was between him and Heyes.

“Go ahead, Wheat, show him,” she said with her soft British accent.

“Show me what?” said Heyes, now smiling as he realized Maisie was in on whatever was happening.

With a flourish, Wheat waved his arm and stepped aside revealing an instrument Heyes had only read, and dreamed about.  A top box, wall-mounted telephone.   It was brand new and the mahogany exterior glistened with polish.

Kyle’s face split with a huge, tobacco-stained grin.  “Lookee, what Miss Maisie’s got, Heyes.  It’s a gen-u-ine tellyphone!”

His partner’s face lit up with delight and the Kid relaxed.  He hated doubting his own gang but he was all too aware that his and Heyes’ tenure as leaders was only as long as his ability to keep everyone in line and his partner’s ability to keep their coffers full.

“Where’d you get it?” Heyes was looking like a kid on Christmas morning.  He stepped into the space Lobo vacated for him and lifted the handset.  “Does it work?” he asked hopefully and Maisie nodded.   Lifting the handset, Heyes held it to his ear and heard a crackling sound.  He bent to the mouthpiece and spoke loudly, “Hello?  Hello?”  

After a moment, a voice came back to him through the miracle of modern science.  “T. A. Wilson speaking. Is that you sweethe…”  Maisie’s hand gently pulled down the cradle and disconnected the call.  Disappointment blossomed on Heyes’ face and the Kid had a feeling it wasn’t all about the call being cut off.

“It’s not a toy, boys,” said Maisie firmly while slipping her arm through Heyes’ and skillfully leading him away.  

Curry sat down in an empty chair and watched the couple.  “Good going, Wheat.  Heyes owes you for this one.”

“I thought he’d be happy!!” protested Wheat.  The whole gang was watching their leader now.

The Kid shook his head.  “Does he look happy?”

“He don’t look so happy, Wheat,” offered Kyle.

Heyes stopped Maisie at the foot of the stairs.  “Who was that talking to me?”  

“Why, I believe that was T. A. Wilson, dear.”

“And who exactly is that?” growled Heyes, turning to face her.  

She smiled winsomely and cocked her head slightly towards the steps.  “That is the gentleman who installed the telephone.  Shall we go up?”

Jaws clenched, Heyes stood rooted to the spot.  “And why does the gentleman need to have a telephone that goes directly to you?”

Batting her eyelashes demurely, Maisie sidestepped around Heyes and started up the stairs.  Looking over one bare shoulder, she smiled.  “A lady never tells.”

Heyes could see that this was getting him nowhere so he smiled wolfishly.  

An evil smile formed on her pouting lips.  “Why he’s the new marshal in Laramie.”  

“What would a law-abiding man want with you?” sneered Heyes, his voice as cold as his eyes.

No longer smiling--in fact--frowning in an unattractive manner, Maisie pulled herself up her entire five foot three inch height and snarled, “Who do you think you are?!”  Alerted by his boss’ tone, Bart started towards the handsome couple.

“I’m thinking I’m the man walking away from you.”  Heyes turned away.

“You… dare you judge me?!  You have no right…”  Furious, Maisie grabbed the back of Heyes’ shirt.  “Don’t you walk away from me!  You two-bit, sonava…”

“Very ladylike,” stated Heyes as he gripped her wrist until she released him.

“Get OUT!!  Get out of my place or I’ll have you thrown out!  Bart!  MARCH THEM OUT OF HERE--GET OUT!!” She was screaming shrilly.  Bart pulled his gun.

The Kid drew as well but stood up and walked between his partner and the angry woman, his gun trained between Bart’s eyes.  “Now, you don’t mean that, Maisie.  Heyes, tell her you’re sorry.  You know we love you, darlin’.”

Heyes’ response was to cross his arms and adopt a mulish expression.

“The first time I saw you pair of knaves, I knew you’d be trouble!  Him, all sweet-talking and smiling like butter would melt in his mouth, those dimples begging me to…and, you…you acting like you were the easiest--going man in the world.  But you’re not, he’s not.  You’re crooks!   I’m calling the law!”  Maisie signaled to Bart and, together, they plowed down the stairs.  Maisie pushed past the Kid.  The Kid stepped forward and stiff-armed Bart, forcing him to stop.  Both men pointing guns at each other until Bart wisely lowered his.  The rest of the gang had been stunned by the fireworks and had quickly retreated out the door of the Golden Spur.

But Heyes stood his ground.  His frown wavered and he smiled as Maisie pushed aside chairs when she passed him.  He followed in her wake righting them as quickly as she upended them.  When she reached the phone, she snatched up the handset.  “T. A., T. A., it’s Maisie.  I need you!”  She froze when she cast an ugly frown over her shoulder at Heyes and saw him holding up a frayed wire with a self-satisfied smiling carving the aforementioned dimples.  She threw down the handset, curled her long, slender fingers into two fists, and stomped her foot like a two year old.  “DAMN you, Heyes!”  She shrieked as he pulled her into his arms and she fought him hard as he buried his face into the curve of her neck inhaling her scent.  She felt his lips tracing a line across her heated skin.  Involuntarily, she moaned, pulled him tighter to the length of her, and whispered, “I hate you!”

“You say that to all your men,” laughed Heyes into her skin.

She stilled in his arms and he braced for the explosion he expected.  She shook once and a soft sound escaped from her.  It was quickly followed by a choking sound changing swiftly to a bubble of laughter until she was pushed away from him, nodded her head vigorously, and crowed, “I DO say that to all my men.”

Heyes reached out and captured her hand, chuckling.  “Let’s go upstairs and you can tell me again. And if you tell me real nice, you can even tell me again.”  He drew a giggling Maisie up the steps and into the first door on the left.  It shut with a loud click.

Bart and the Kid started as though awoken from a dream.  The Kid’s gun snapped up instantly, Bart’s meeting it muzzle to muzzle a moment later.  Both men glared at each, then stared for a long time, then smiled.  The Kid holstered his gun with a showy flourish and Bart simply put his away.  “I’m good, Kid.  How ‘bout you?  You good?” asked the slightly older man.  

“Never better, Bart.  Thanks for askin’.”  Curry patted the other man on the back.  “What d’you say we go find the gang and leave those two lovebirds alone??”

“Lovebirds?!” Bart was still looking up the stairs.  “Five minutes ago, she’d have paid me triple to shoot you two dead.  Now she’s…if’n I live to be a hundred, I’ll never figure women out!”

The Kid threw his arm over Bart’s shoulders.  “But let’s have us a good time tryin’.”


Hannibal Heyes walked stiffly down the stairs the next morning as the sun hit the plate glass window in the front of the building.  Beams of light illuminated dust motes suspended in the stale air.

“I see you’re still in one piece,” smirked the Kid from a table behind Heyes.

Swiveling around, the dark-haired partner grinned sheepishly.  “Barely.”

“You were walkin’ away last night, what made you change your mind?”  Curry tipped his head.

Heyes considered the question for a while and then shrugged.  “When she started squawking about calling the law, I got to thinking.  All she had to do was walk down those steps and she could’ve had the law on us like that!”  Fingers snapped, and Heyes smiled.

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“And then I thought about Miss Birdie.”

Blond brows drew together.  “The little old lady from the Columbine job?  What were you thinkin’ about her for?  That was months ago and, and, she’s OLD!”

Heyes choked.  “I wasn’t thinking about her THAT WAY!”

“Well, you sure were thinkin’ about somethin’ that way,” dryly drawled the Kid.

“Look.  I started thinking about that amnesty.”

“The amnesty?  I thought you said that was for…”

“I KNOW what I said.  Kid, those telephones are gonna finish us.  Sheriffs, bankers, pretty soon they’re all gonna have them.”

The Kid jumped up from his chair.  “And the minute we pull a job, they’ll be callin’ the law.  Heyes…”


“We gotta get outta this business!”


"You can only be young once. But you can always be immature." —Dave Barry

Last edited by InsideOutlaw on Wed Apr 01, 2020 5:32 am; edited 2 times in total
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Join date : 2012-04-22

March 2020  A Pair of Knaves Empty
PostSubject: Re: March 2020 A Pair of Knaves   March 2020  A Pair of Knaves Icon_minitimeWed Apr 01, 2020 12:13 am


In response to folks wanting a follow-up story to Heyes having his cards read by Mistress Jade a few challenges ago in Lucky Thirteen, I wrote what started out as a challenge with Kid getting his cards read. At that point, only Penski had submitted a story and I didn't want it to be lonely  Very Happy

I feel MUCH better now that other writers have submitted their challenges.

However, MY story grew into something too large to submit as a challenge, so it's posted under the "Challenge Overspill Area... Stories NOT for polling." Just in case ya wanna wander over there and read it... sm

Hope y'all enjoy it  study

writing "My task, which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word, to make you hear, to make you feel -- it is, before all, to make you see..." ~~ Joseph Conrad ~~ study
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March 2020  A Pair of Knaves Empty
PostSubject: Re: March 2020 A Pair of Knaves   March 2020  A Pair of Knaves Icon_minitime

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March 2020 A Pair of Knaves
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