June 2020 - The letter of the law

Subject: June 2020 - The letter of the law Mon Jun 01, 2020 11:22 am

Hello there!!

Well, you probably won't have heard much about it across the pond - but over here we are all very cross with a political advisor who has been bending / stretching lockdown rules / looking for loopholes in the small print ... Including driving to a beauty spot to 'test his eyesight!' Suspect

Sheesh.

So I was pondering a few phrases that brought to mind, and finally decided all you lovely ladies need to get your typing heads on and think about

"The Letter of the Law"

Yeah - that has enough possibilities.

And... go... writing

Subject: Re: June 2020 - The letter of the law Thu Jun 11, 2020 8:41 am

There’s a small nondescript town somewhere on the dusty planes surrounding the Stoneface Hills. A one-horse-town existing only because of the way station for the new stage coach line, mostly it consists of entertainment for their customers and a few families desperate enough to stake in a prosperous future of the place which might never come true.

Opposite the station is a small sheriff’s office, the building so new one can still smell the resin bleeding out of the pine tree boards. A brand-new sign tells everyone concerned that B. Cute is the name of the law in this place.

He’s in his early twenties, lanky, bright-eyed and cursed with hair the color and texture of dusty straw. Recently he’s been occupied with the most important case of his new position as a lawman.

The stagecoach has been robbed in his district. The passengers have finally arrived and as his luck went, he already has one suspect in his custody. A man of about his own age is held captive and all he needs to solve the case and boost his career now is evidence. The man’s belongings offered no proof of him being involved, but an eyewitness would be as good as physical evidence as well, maybe even better. But although there were three women – well really girls - riding the coach at the time of the robbery, their value as eyewitnesses is more than questionable. The questioning of two of them was more than disappointing and his hope is on the last one, the oldest of three sisters who is sitting opposite his table right now.

Grace Turner is no classical beauty, but easy on the eye with her milk-white skin and long strawberry hair. The young sheriff smiles gently at her as he starts his inquiry.

“It seems your sisters were quite distracted and too upset for a reliable testimony, so I do hope you can help me identify the evildoer who scared you and your poor sisters so much, and relieved the coach of a strong box containing a $2.000 payroll. So please tell me, did you get a look at him?”

“Oh yes, I had a very good look at him indeed.” Virgin like she blushes.

“What did he look like?”

“He was definitely the most handsome man I have ever seen.” The young woman sighs.

Sheriff Cute rolls his eyes. “I was thinking along the lines of a description.”

“Description?”

“Yes. What was he like?”

“Handsome, strong, polite, very gentlemanly in fact.” Her eyes become a dreamy look and her face softens.

“His physical features would be more helpful, ma’am,” the Sheriff presses on. “I suppose he was young, slender, about 6 feet tall, dark-haired and dimpled, wearing a brown suit, right?”

“Oh no, not at all! That’s not him,” she insists. “Tall he was, with broad shoulders and muscular arms – he picked me up as if I was weightless when I stumbled and almost fell - handsome face, tanned skin with a shimmer of gold to it, soft features, honey colored curly hair, sensual lips – oh so kissable and inviting - eyes the color of forget-me-nots ... or rather cornflowers?”

The young Sherriff rolls his eyes again, fighting visibly for patience. “I think this is enough of a description of this one man. What about the others?”

“What others?”

“There must have been more than one of them.”

“Really...? I don’t remember having seen anyone else besides him...”

The Sheriff heaves a deep sigh of resignation as he sees his presumably prospering career vanishing into thin air...

-o-o-o-

A few yards away a young man listens to the exchange attentively with a broad smile on his face. He doesn’t seem to mind that he is locked up behind bars, but looks rather contented. His smug smile disappears as the sheriff turns around. Innocence and trust are all that emerge from his big brown eyes as he watches the lawman stride over, after he has shown the young lady out.

“Well, Sheriff, seems like we have to part ways now.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I heard your interrogation of your witness, well there was no way to avoid it. I don’t exactly fit her description of the man you’re looking for.” Long slender fingers run through dark-brown hair and push it out of his face. “As I told you before, I am William Gates, travelling salesman in corsetry and lingerie – as you should already know, since I suppose you checked out my goods very thoroughly by now.” A glint of mischief flickers up in the corners of his eyes but it is gone too soon to be noticed by the blushing lawman. “Maybe we could find a nice present for Missus Cute? Do you think she would be interested in silk stockings or a nice little something in white lace? There’s nothing that suits a beautiful woman better than a lovely smile and white lace, if I may express my humble opinion...”

“A cute Missus is none of your business,” the sheriff cuts him off harshly.

“Of course, not. I’m truly sorry, Sheriff.” His expressive face emphasizes the seriousness of his apology, but his eyes keep twinkling. “But if I may be so bold to remind you: by the letter of the law you can’t keep me prisoner forever, if you haven’t got any evidence.”

“By Jove, I know, you’ve been there,” Sheriff Cute grunts.

“I don’t know what you know, Sheriff, but I know, that I’ve been nowhere near Copperhead Pass for an entire week. You can ask my customers in Silver Gulch and Miller’s Crossing – if they will be so brave to admit their purchases that is. But with enough persuasiveness and encouragement you should be able to round up at least one or two of them – searching in the right places where questions about an issue like that - a woman’s underdressing - wouldn’t be considered too improper and hurt nobody’s decency and ... uhm ... reputation.” Another wide smile lights up the handsome face which some might assess as somewhat impish, even devious, if they had a close enough look, which doesn’t apply to the young Sheriff, who develops a new shade of a pinkish complexion.

He looks at the suitcase filled with unmentionable women’s things, trying hard to chase pictures of one particular pretty girl of Madam Rose’s Parlor of Love showing them off, out of his mind – and the way she may reward such a gift. His glance pans over the door, the desk, back to the cell and the man in his custody. He heaves a deep sigh and unlocks the door.

“I suppose you’re right. I aim to use my time searching for the man I can pin down for the robbery, not some little sidekick nobody even noticed. You can’t be of any importance anyway. If you were in on the robbery, they probably payed you off and kicked you out as soon as the deed was done. You really don’t look like a hardened criminal to me. You better learn how to keep your nose clean, before you get yourself in some serious trouble.”

Within a blink the happy smile of his captive is gone and the young man’s faces clouds over. He opens his mouth, stops, swallows hard and then nods slowly. “I am – grateful – for your opinion,” he declares seriously in a gravely and somewhat tight voice. “I wish you good luck in finding a man more wicked than me and capable of planning a raid so expertly, that I would pass as his unnoticed ... sidekick.”

Without haste he picks up his belongings as the Sheriff hands them over. He places the hat on his head with more deliberate care than necessary, thrusts out his hand to the Sheriff and squeezes his just a notch more than comfortable. “I thank you for your hospitality and your good advice, Sheriff Cute. Be sure I’ll never forget your name.” His dark-brown eyes glitter in an almost unsettling way, but within an eye’s blink the uncomfortable feeling is gone.

He nods at the Sheriff one more time and leaves. Fifteen minutes later all that is to be seen of him is a dust cloud raised by the pounding hooves of his horse as he’s heading out towards the distant hills.

-o-o-o-

When he reaches them, his mood is already better. He follows a hidden path into a small cleft cut into a steep cliff towering over a little creek. At the metallic click of a cocking gun he freezes and conjures a smile on his face. “It’s me, Kid. Relax.”

“Heyes, where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you forever.”

“I had a little talk with B. Cute...”

“Bee Cute?” his partner snorts. “You couldn’t wait to spend your money on some girl?”

“Not exactly, Kid. B. Cute ’s the local sheriff.”

Instantly, Kid Curry’s good mood disappears. “The sheriff? Are you crazy?”

“No, he had more luck than common sense, when he snatched me right away as I checked out the new stage schedule. Fortunately, my disguise worked perfectly and he had no hard evidence, besides his eyewitnesses.”

“Eyewitnesses? So how did you get away then?”

“Praise the Lord for your looks, Kid. You’ve got such a conspicuous attitude...”

“A what?!” snaps the Kid, his blue eyes narrowing.

“Keep calm, Kid. You did us a favor this time. You just have to learn to keep a low profile on the job ...”

“Says the man who’d love to paint our names in bright-red letters on every coach we take.”

“See, Kid, I was thinking about that, too. I don’t think we should do coaches anymore. It’s too unpredictable: the exact time, the route, the number of passengers - we could do way better going for trains.”

“Trains? Trains?” Kid Curry’s temper is rising with every word. “Now I know that you’re outta your mind! How would the two of us stop thousands of pounds of fast-driving metal?”

“You’re right, we would need more manpower, but the profit would be remarkable. We could make ourselves names.”

“Names? What names?” the Kid asks suspiciously. “Like in ‘reward on our names’?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. They should know who’s faster and smarter than they are - every time, everywhere!”

“You really mean it...” the Kid moans and turns away.

“Yeah, sure. Wouldn’t you like them to know your name? Be someone, not a no one anymore? Hear your name spoken with respect? Think of the advantage it would give us – way less resistance and risk when they know with whom they are dealing – and just think of the impression it would make on the girls...”

Blue eyes light up with new interest. “Maybe your idea ain’t as stupid as it sounds...”

Heyes laughs and lays his arm around his partner’s shoulders. “Aw, Kid, I knew you would see my point. Let’s give it a try, huh? If it doesn’t work, we can go back and do something else anytime.”

“You sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure!”

Kid Curry doesn’t look convinced at all. “Well, just let’s get outta here before one cute sheriff gets smart and follows your tracks. We can talk about it on our way.”

Heyes smiles brightly, pats Kid’s shoulder one last time and off they go, laughing and racing each other up the hills towards new heights, only limited by the sky.

_________________
"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."
-Dr. Seuss

Posts : 136 Join date : 2013-10-27 Age : 48

Letter of the Law

“Aw shucks.” A frustrated Jed Curry spoke under his breath. Drumming his pencil on his desk, he once again repeated the phrase in his mind. Aw shucks. Suddenly, realization struck him. “Aw,” he said softly to himself. Yes, ‘aw.’ Grinning, he wrote it down.

A moment passed before he recognized adding an L made it ‘awl.’ It looked funny, though. Shouldn’t it be spelled ‘all’? Hmm. But, wait. He’d heard his mother use the word when referring to something other than a group of things. What was it? He searched his memory for the moment in time. A year ago? No, too long. Last month? Maybe. Hmm. His father’s birthday … oh yeah, she referred to a tool she had used to punch holes in a small piece of tanned hide for a tobacco pouch for his father as a birthday present and had called it an awl. Once again, he wrote down the word.

He reviewed his paper carefully. Aw and awl. There had to be something else. His thoughts transported him back to this morning, to breakfast. His sister practiced the new hymn she would sing in front of the congregation for next Sunday’s service. Something about it spoke to him, but he could not remember all the words. Only a part of the chorus had stayed with him, its catchy refrain repeated but monosyllabic—la, la, la, la, la. Even to his young mind, it seemed more a nursery rhyme than something lauding the Creator. But, although a growth spurt in the last few months put her a full head above him with the curves of womanhood, his sister was but two years older than he. Re-focusing from his digression, he wrote ‘la’ in his best hand.

So, three—three words to match the letters in the word. Was there anything else? Could he find a fourth? A, L, W, in alphabetical order, or L, A, W in spelling order. A? Yes, A. A law, a boy, a school. Yep, one of the three articles. So, ‘A’ found its way to the page.

A cramp in his hand made him put his pencil down on the desk. He stretched his hand as he often saw his pa do after gripping an ax handle too long. Splaying the fingers outward for a few seconds and relaxing them, over and over, provided some relief. At the same time, he reviewed his work. Four words from three letters—not too bad. He grinned. Not too bad, indeed! Looking around, he noticed a number of classmates still writing and thinking, thinking and writing. Finally, the teacher announced, “Time’s up, class. Pencils down, please.”

A class full of expectant eyes focused on the young woman. Miss Jones arrived only a month or two ago, replacing Miss Smith, his former instructor, who had recently married and settled on her new husband’s ranch a few miles down the north road. He missed her and did not understand why the school board would not let a married woman teach. Something about keeping the house and tending to her husband, his mother told him, and of course, starting a family. But, since she was nowhere near with child nor all of a sudden struck dumb as to imparting knowledge to young minds, he found the whole notion silly. But, most of all, he missed her. He thought he should ask his pa permission to visit her sometime, maybe bring another jar of his mother’s preserves to supplement the one he gave her when she first married. Yes, he would like that very much.

In the meantime, he heard his name called and broke from his reverie. “Jed, would you like to read us your word and what you got from it?”

Aw shucks, why did she have to call on him first? There was no way out of it, so he stood next to his desk, paper in hand. “My word was ‘law.’ From it, I got aw, awl, la, and a.”

A boy seated two desks over said, “There’s only one l in law, so ‘all’ doesn’t work.”

Miss Jones noted, “That’s correct, Bobby. Jed, please spell ‘awl.’

“A, w, l, awl,” Jed responded.

The girl next to Bobby spoke up. “My ma taught me how to use an awl, so Jed’s right.”

“That’s why I didn’t know about it. It’s for woman’s work!” gloated Bobby. “Jed’s a sissy if he knows what it is. What are ya, Jed, a mama’s boy?”

“No! I just saw my ma use it is all.”

“Enough, Bobby. You owe Jed and the class an apology,” chided Miss Jones. “Men use awls all the time working with hides. It’s not just woman’s work.”

Jed turned all shades of red. Bobby Johnson was a sometime pal, sometime bully, and Jed liked to keep on his friendly side. It just made life easier on a fourth-grader. But to force Bobby to say he was sorry? No, Miss Jones, please don’t, he thought. Miss Smith knew the kids well and would not have done that

With all eyes on him, Bobby had no choice but to utter a muffled “sorry” to the class. He side-eyed Jed, who looked at the floor to avoid eye contact. Jed hoped this would blow over quickly and not have him ridiculed as a laughing stock for Bobby and his cohorts. Of course, what he really wanted was to sit down, so, thinking his turn done, he did.

But, Miss Jones had other ideas. “Jed, what was that last word on your list?”

The boy scrambled to his feet, knocking a book off his desk in his haste. Laughter erupted, flushing Jed’s cheeks all the more. Clearing his throat, he found his voice. “A, ma’am.”

“A?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The teacher looked deep in thought. “I’m not sure ‘a’ complies with the assignment.”

“But it’s a word.”

“Yes, but it’s also just reiterating a letter on its own.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jed could see Bobby smirk in delight. The teacher could dole out comeuppance as well as Bobby could and maybe even save him the trouble.

Jed thought what his cousin Han would do. Han possessed a wonderful vocabulary and a silver tongue that never failed to have a comeback that left everyone speechless. If only Jed could do the same.

“We’re waiting, Jed.”

Put on the spot yet again, Jed could hear Han in his ear as if he were next to him. The boy looked straight at the teacher. “Yes, ma’am, it’s a word and a letter in law. And if it’s the law, it has to be right.”

All eyes in the class looked from Jed to Miss Jones. They could see her mind working, processing what she heard from a nine-year-old boy. It sounded so, so correct, and if she dared say, profound, unlike anything she had heard from the mouths of babes in her short teaching career. All this from an assignment to see what words could be extracted from a master word, one per student. Hmm, what to make of this?

Finally, still not knowing quite what to say and wanting to move on from this embarrassing situation, Miss Jones looked at Jed, still standing by his desk. “Very good, Jed,” she said, “I’m sure you’ll be a man of the law someday.”

_________________
Fast is fine, but accuracy is everything. ~ Wyatt Earp

Subject: Re: June 2020 - The letter of the law Sun Jun 28, 2020 12:00 am

June 2020 – Letter of the Law

Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry leaned back against their saddles around a campfire sipping coffee.

“Heyes, Lorraine was as crazy as the day is long!” the Kid exclaimed.

“How so?” Heyes reached into his saddle bags and pulled out a flask of whisky. After pouring some in his cup, he added some to Curry’s proffered cup.

“Remember how Janet said they were sisters?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Lorraine told me the same thing, that they were sisters, too. Later she changed her story and claimed that she worked in a saloon and Janet was her boss.”

Heyes nodded. “I can see that.”

“Then she changed things again saying that Janet was her mother and had her when she was fifteen years old.”

Heyes shook his head in disbelief.

“You're not gonna believe this, but while I was tied and gagged, Lorraine was flirtin’ and askin’ me if I thought she was beautiful!”

“She didn’t?!”

Curry nodded. “Crazy as they come.”

Heyes sipped his coffee. “Janet was the one who kinda scared me by how cold and calculating she was.”

“Ain’t that the truth. I wonder who was really buried at that farm and if Janet and Lorraine knew the person.”

“I’m just glad there’s not two graves there now.”

“You and me both!” Curry settled down further and sipped his laced coffee. “So, the job went smoother than Denver. That mean you’ll be wantin’ Harry as your partner instead of me next time?”

“Are you joking? Harry was sweating up a storm and his hands were shaking while I poured in the nitro.”

“Shakin’?” Curry chuckled. “He coulda blown you both up.”

“Yeah, he…”

CLICK

“All right, boys, put down your cups and get your hands in the air,” came a voice hiding in the trees.

Heyes and the Kid furrowed their brows as they glanced at one another, put down their cups, and raised their hands as commanded.

“Where’s your gun, Curry?”

“Other side of me away from the fire.”

“Heyes?”

“That you, Lom?”

“Where’s your gun, Heyes?”

“Next to my saddle bags.”

“Take off your boots and throw them away from the horses.”

“Our boots?” the Kid asked.

“I know where you hide things. Toss your hats over there, too.”

Heyes and Kid Curry removed their boots and hats, throwing them away.

“Don’t do nothing stupid. I have a gun on Heyes, Kid, and will shoot him if you try for your gun.”

“I won’t. You have my promise.” The Kid put his hands on his head so the man wouldn’t shoot.

“You coming out?” Heyes asked.

Lom Trevors came out of the shadows and quickly kicked Curry’s gunbelt and then Heyes’ away from them.

“What you doing out here, Lom? Why are you acting like this?” Heyes slowly put his hands down to his side and motioned for the Kid to do the same.

“I’m arresting you!”

“Arresting us? What in tarnation for?” Heyes’ voice went up in pitch.

“You went against your word and you back slid on me – robbed the National Bank in Rock River. You told me you wanted to stop outlawing and asked me to put my neck on the line and talk to the governor. How stupid was I!” Lom kept his gun pointed at his prisoners. “I’ll probably lose my job because of this, Heyes.”

“Heyes couldn’t help it…” the Kid began.

“Yeah. Let me guess, someone had a gun to his head.”

“Not my head, but Kid had a gun to his head,” Heyes said quietly

“What?”

“Why don’t you sit down and have some coffee. There’s still some beans and biscuits from dinner, too. We’ll tell you what happened,” Heyes invited their sheriff friend.

Trevors hesitated for a minute.

“We not gonna do nothin’ but talk to you, Lom,” Kid Curry said exasperated.

“I’ll listen to what you have to say, but I’m not changing my mind.” Sheriff Trevors sat down by the fire while Heyes poured him some coffee and the Kid dished him some dinner.

Heyes poured more coffee into their mugs and started. “It all began when me and the Kid rode into Rock River. Remember Harry Waggoner?”

“Harry Waggoner?” Lom put down his fork for a moment. “Wasn’t he about ten years older than me and had blond hair? Didn’t fit at Devil’s Hole and left after a few months?”

“That’s him. Well, he was staking out the bank and knew he couldn’t get the safe open.”

“That’s until he saw us ridin’ into town.” Kid Curry pointed to his partner and himself.

“Harry had some partners – a woman named Janet Judson and another whose name is Lorraine…”

“Crazy as a loon!”

Heyes gave his partner a look and continued. “Had us set up. Janet and Lorraine asked us to help them sell their ranch…”

“An honest job,” the Kid interrupted.

“We accepted and were heading to their place. It was a hot day and the gals wanted to go swimming. We got distracted…”

Lom’s brow raised.

“…and Harry got the upper hand. Next we know, we’re tied up and in the back of a wagon. Harry tells us he wants me to come outta retirement and help him with this robbery. Said he had an incentive to make me do the job.”

“Me!” Curry pointed to himself.

“I had to rob the bank, or the Kid would get killed. Had no choice but to go with Harry while the women took the Kid away. I tried hard – real hard – to get outta Harry where they went with the Kid, but Janet didn’t tell him where. Kinda smart on their part. Me and Harry went back to River Rock and piped the bank.”

“A Pierce & Hamilton ’78,” Lom stated. “That’s how I knew it was you, Heyes.”

“Yeah, I figured everyone would know it was me.”

“You’re the only one who’s done it. Denver Mercantile, wasn’t it?”

“A few months before trying for amnesty.” Heyes sipped his coffee. “How’d you hear about it, Lom?

“As soon as it was discovered that the bank had been robbed, Sheriff Baldwin sent out telegrams within a 50-mile radius saying you two had just robbed the bank and to be on the lookout. I sent back a message asking how he knew it was you two and he told me about the safe.” Lom put down his empty plate. “I was furious for you two going against your word and making me look bad in front of the governor. Told Harker I’d be back in a week or so and took after you.”

“Lom, we returned the money and brought in Harry, Janet, and Lorraine. Is the amnesty really gone?” Curry asked.

“Well, you two were to go straight to show you deserved amnesty. Heyes robbing a bank is breaking the law…”

“But he was forced to do it! Them women weren’t jokin’; they would have killed me, if he hadn’t done it.”

“Doesn’t matter, Kid. The letter of the law says Heyes robbed a bank, so the amnesty is gone.”

Heyes sighed and hung his head. “A year of going straight and nothing.”

“That just don’t seem right. Isn’t there anything we can do?” Curry asked.

Lom Trevors poured himself the last of the coffee. “I’m sure the governor has heard you robbed the bank, but he’s also probably been told how the money was returned. By the way, how did you return the money and turn in those people?”

Heyes looked up sheepish. “Sheriff Lom Trevors’ deputies, Smith and Jones, turned them in.”

Trevors scowled. “But Waggoner knows you’re Heyes and Curry.”

“Well, I told Deputy Harper that they would say we’re Heyes and Curry, but, of course, we’re not.”

“And he believed you?”

“Would you expect Heyes and Curry to turn over the money and folks involved in the robbery?” The Kid smiled.

“I guess not.”

Heyes ran his fingers through his hair. “Can you go to Cheyenne and talk to the governor? Tell him the whole story?”

“Tell you what, we’re going to Cheyenne and talk to the governor.”

“Us?” Kid Curry again pointed to his partner and himself.

“Yep! We’ll leave first thing in the morning.” Lom stood up. “Now do I have your word that I can trust you not to take off or do I have to tie you up?”

“You have my word, Lom,” Heyes stated.

“Kid?”

“You have my word, too.” Curry looked over to the side. “Can I have my gun back if I promise not to use it on you?”

Sheriff Trevors thought a moment. “I’ll tell you what, you can have your guns as soon as you give me all the bullets, including those in the gun, your belt, and saddle bags.”

“I just gave my word I wouldn’t use it on you.”

“I appreciate that, but you’re going to have to earn my trust again after this robbery.” Lom picked up the guns and took them with him. “I’ll go get my horse and then we can all bed down.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Several days later, Lom Trevors, Heyes and Curry rode near Cheyenne as the sun began to set.

“How are you wanting to do this, Lom?” Heyes pulled his hat lower as more people were on the road.

“You know someone might recognize us with you,” Kid Curry stated.

“There’s a out of the way hotel coming up. We’re stay there overnight, and I’ll see about getting an appointment with the governor in the morning.” Trevors gave them both a look. “I have your word, you’ll wait to see what the governor says and abide by it.”

“Abide by it? As in turn ourselves in?” The Kid hesitated.

“Lom, we can’t promise that, but we will stay around until he makes a decision. Even talk to him, if that’s what he wants.”

“I can understand that.” Lom pointed to the left. “Here’s that hotel I was telling you about.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Lom Trevors opened the hotel door and threw his hat on the single bed.

Heyes jumped up from the double bed where he had been reading. “Well, what did he say?”

“He said he’ll hear your side of the story before making a decision. We have an appointment at 8pm tonight at his house. He doesn’t want anyone seeing us come in.”

Kid Curry finished putting his gun together and wiped it down once more. “We can be good at sneakin’ into places.”

Trevors scowled. “No guns, knives, or weapons of any kind allowed. I hope you have something clean to wear.”

“This is a good thing, right, Heyes?”

Heyes nodded. “Yeah, Kid. I think it’s good for the governor to put real faces with those names.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

At 8pm, Lom Trevors knocked on the back door of the governor’s house while Heyes brushed off his black hat and the Kid shined the top of his boots with his pant legs.

The door opened by a young woman in a uniform. “Sheriff Trevors?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“The governor is expecting you. Follow me.”

She led them through the kitchen and down a hall towards the front of the house. She knocked on the double dark wood doors. “Sheriff Trevors is here, sir.”

Governor William Hale opened the door. “Thank you, Lydia. You may retire for the evening.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Gentlemen.” Hale motioned for them to enter before sitting behind his wide mahogany desk. “Sit down.”

Heyes and Curry, with their hats in their hands, sat where Trevors told them to sit.

“Can I assume I have nothing to fear this evening during this visit, no matter what the decision?”

“Yes, sir.” Sheriff Trevors sat down. “None of us are carrying any weapons. And we have their word.”

The governor sipped an already poured glass of brandy and stared at the former outlaws. “So, this is the famous Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry.”

“He’s Curry. I’m Heyes.”

“Well, you certainly don’t look how I expected you to look.”

“Sir?”

“Let’s just say I’m not surprised that the law has figured out who you really are and arrested you. But with no pictures and those general descriptions…”

“Yes, sir,” they both replied.

“I understand that Governor Hoyt made a deal with you – provisional amnesty if you can stay out of trouble for a year.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Heyes.

“However, he left office without granting you the amnesty.”

“Yes, sir. Not sure he thought we could do it. When we did, he said it would be political suicide with the election coming up.” Heyes looked at Trevors. “Of course, you won the election.”

The governor smiled. “Have you been staying out of trouble for just over a year?

“Yes, sir,” both Heyes and Curry said in unison.

“Until the robbery at the National Bank in River Rock.”

Both outlaws slumped a tad in their chairs. “Yes, sir.”

“According to Sheriff Trevors, there was a reason for robbing the bank. You did not do it on your own free will.”

“I did not, sir.”

“Tell me your version of what happened.” The governor sat back and swirled his brandy.

Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry told the governor what happened in the past few weeks with the capture, robbery, and escape.

The governor drank the rest of his brandy. “After talking to Sheriff Trevors this morning, I contacted Sheriff Baldwin for his side of the story. He said Deputies Smith and Jones brought back the money and the three people responsible – a male and two females. Would these deputies be you?”

“Ahh… yes, sir,” Heyes admitted.

“Gentlemen, do you often impersonate deputies?”

“No, sir!” they both shook their head and said in unison.

“I would hope not!”

“We didn’t see any other way to turn in the money and people involved,” Heyes explained. “We were just trying to do the right thing.”

“And doing the right thing was robbing a bank… I know, they had Kid Curry and would have killed him. However, robbing a bank is NOT staying out of trouble.” The governor stood and paced behind his desk.

Curry and Heyes shot each other nervous glances.

“I’ll tell you what I am willing to do, gentlemen. I will start this provisional amnesty over again – the same deal Governor Hoyt gave you. That is, if you, Sheriff Trevors, agree to continue monitoring their actions.”

“Monitor their actions, sir?” the Sheriff questioned.

“You will continue to notify Sheriff Trevors of your whereabouts on a regular basis and what you are doing. Is that agreeable with all of you?”

“Yes, sir.” Three men nodded their consent.

“So, we have an agreement, Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry, that you will stay out of trouble for another year and we will revisit this provisional amnesty.” It was not a question.

“Yes, sir, and thank you, sir.” Heyes stood and shook the governor’s hand.

“Yes, sir.” Kid Curry stood and also shook the governor’s hand.

“I don’t want to hear any more stories about you robbing again. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir! The men nodded.

“It’s been a long day and I still have some paperwork to finish this evening. Gentlemen, thank you for coming over and having this meeting.”

“Thank you for listening to our side of the story.”

“Good evening, gentlemen.” The governor shook three hands. “Please show yourselves out… the back door.”

The three men walked through the house and left from the back door.

“Another whole year, Heyes?” Curry asked glumily.

“Another whole year, Kid.”

Lom Trevors walked between the boys and put his arms around their shoulders. “You can do another year. Why, look how easy it was to stay outta trouble last year.”

The boys sighed.

“Come on, I’ll go buy you a drink to celebrate you still have a chance for amnesty.

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

Posts : 75 Join date : 2019-05-19

The Letter of the Law

It was getting dark and he was cold.
His backside hurt and he shifted into a more comfortable position. Looking above, he could see through the small, barred window some of the fading light, casting shadows around him in this damp, silent surrounding.
They had thrown him into the storeroom full of bedsteads and other stuff after a beating he received for trying to pick the lock of the pantry. They had no right to do that, all he wanted was to get something to eat for his younger cousin, who always seemed to be hungry these days. He had done it before and he was so sure nobody noticed him missing at Sunday sermon. He was deeply focused on his venture, he didn`t hear Owen coming around the corner. Usually he was accompanied by Jed, but he didn`t want to take the risk of both of them being absent. And what was the first thing this little traitor did? Snitch....he`d get even with him for that!
He hated the silent darkness, his always active mind conjuring pictures of a house in flames and motionless figures. His heart began to race as he unwillingly recalled the scene. He started to shiver and hugged his knees for warmth and to block out his rising panic. He wished he could talk to Jed and leaning back against the wall he tried to relax and keep his thoughts at bay.
He hadn`t meant to fall asleep but at some point, he must have dozed off.
Where was that smell coming from? Was it smoke? He could hear his mother crying and the yells of his father.... The next sound he was aware of was the crackling of wood and a voice whispering insistently, "Han? Can you hear me? Han?"
He woke with a start; relieved he realized it wasn`t a memory of back home, it was Jed crouching at the small window. " Here`s a candle and matches. It`s pitch dark in there. If I were you, I would be scared to death. I know you wouldn`t, just in case..." With a feigned smirk, hoping to hide his true emotions, Han accepted. "See you tomorrow!" Jed murmured and retreated to the main house.

The next morning Han was released from his confinement and after fulfilling some further chores he lingered around in the yard until morning lessons were over. Seeing his younger cousin, he caught up with him and together they walked away from the dilapidated orphanage. Han was filling Jed in on Owen`s black treachery and the usual lecture he got from the warden. "Was the beating bad?", inquired his younger cousin with an apprehensive look on his face. "Nah, just a minor one", lied Han, trying hard to keep his face emotionless.
Suddenly another boy, arms fully loaded with books and letters, ran past them in a great hurry. "What`s the matter, Timothy?"
"I`m late! I totally forgot it`s my turn to collect the post this week! I`m supposed to deliver it before noon. But Miss Maxwell told me to deliver these books to her room immediately!"
"Want some help? Jed can bring the post to Mr. McKenzie." This offer wasn`t welcomed by the afore-mentioned who darted an incredulous look at his cousin.
"Just do it.", Han gave him a reassuring nod. And so, Jed conceded with a shrug.
Han accepted the small pile of letters. Waiting until they were alone, he shuffled through the post. Then he selected one letter from the others. "What`s that one?" Jed asked curiously with an arched eyebrow, " It`s from Sheriff Carter, addressed to the warden. It must be something important if the law is writing letters to the warden..." Han hesitated then smiled slyly. Mischievous brown eyes met worried blue eyes," Warden says we`re required to observe `The letter of the Law`, he said. With a furtive glance around, Han tucked the letter under his shirt "What`re you doing?" Jed wasn`t quite sure what to make of his cousin`s behavior. In his mind Han saw himself leaning over the warden`s desk, the cane coming down again and again. `Knowledge is power.` he thought."Come on, Jed, I`ll show you a trick!"

Later in the afternoon two boys were hanging around near the laundry room, waiting for the moment when the woman working in there left to distribute a wagon full of laundry. They slipped into the room and approached a kettle with hot water. "Watch the door!" whispered Han. He took the envelope out from under his shirt and held it into the steam. The paper soaked and started to bulge. Han checked the envelope. Now, very carefully, his deft fingers were able to open the part of the envelope which was pasted. Jed was watching open-mouthed. He waited till the coast was clear. Giving Han a signal they left and found themselves a secluded spot behind one of the sheds, where Han pulled the letter out and read it to Jed:
"Howdy, my old friend!
I`m glad to tell you that, according to my suggestion, the decision was made in our favor!
The state of Kansas and the corresponding religious organization want to provide a financial aid to support our orphanage in the amount of $3000!
As we both know it would only be a drop in the bucket, so I would like to return to our agreement to split the money between the two of us. The orphans are enough of an annoyance and are only good for making trouble. To spend money on them is simple excess. And, I`m sure you will concur, we both have all the worries and are underpaid.
Unfortunately, before we get the money, two officials will inspect the orphanage on June,15th.
Make sure of presenting yourself and the orphanage in a favorable light!
Your friend,
Winfried Carter, Sheriff "

A thoughtful expression appeared on Han`s face. "They`re corrupt!"
"What?" asked a confused Jed. "That means, they act dishonestly in return for money and their personal gain." Han explained absentmindedly, his gaze drifting off somewhere into the distance. Jed knew that look, it usually meant Han was scheming something and very often, this could be summarized into one word: "trouble".
Jed tried to get his cousins attention back to the matter at hand." We have to return the letter. Won`t the warden see we have opened it?" "No," Han replied, never short for an answer," we seal it again, wrinkle it up and say you found it in the orchard."

The day before the expected visit all children were instructed to do a lot of tidying up, cleaning and other things.
All children? No, two boys were able to slip away from their assigned chores to do some preparations of their own. One of them was to have a talk with Laura who usually worked in the kitchen. Just now the sweet, blonde girl around Jed`s age was weeding the vegetable garden. Casually, they sauntered over to her. Her face brightened when she recognized them.
Flashing his dimples Han turned on his natural charm and asked," Hey, Laura, do you think you can get us a bacon rind out of the pantry?" Instantly her face sobered and she replied in a frightened voice," You know we`re not allowed to fetch us something to eat out of turn! That`s stealing, they say.." she cautioned.
"You`re not going to steal it, you will get it back. Nobody will ever notice anything." returned Han. His appearance and manner were very self-assured. Laura reflected a moment and stated outrightly," That`ll cost you something. I want a kiss." Pause," A real kiss."
Han`s eyes wavered a tiny bit but his countenance remained the same. "A kiss?" he croaked and coughed.
"Not from you! From him!" the girl`s eyes darted to Jed, who suddenly felt himself blushing. With an incredulous gaze and somewhat slouched shoulders, Han turned towards Jed, who slightly shook his head. Weighing the odds, Han prompted him to do it. "Sometimes you need to make a sacrifice....."

A few days earlier a new boy had arrived at the orphanage. Usually Jed was more a silent one and he hadn`t made the acquaintance of Perry yet, neither had Han. But one of Jed`s skills was being a close observer. Among the children there was a certain pecking order and Jed had noticed that Perry, being a bit older than Han, already had a small group of younger children gathered around himself. Perry seemed to be a leader but was still suffering the effects from the impact of losing his family and seeing their dead bodies. He hadn`t quite settled into the life and rules of the orphanage. Han had already fought his way up and everyone knew it never was a wise idea to interfere with him and those who did, quickly realized he would get back at them in one way or another.
This afternoon Han and Jed waited till Perry was alone and then crossed his path.
Perry eyed the boys skeptically. "You`re new." the bigger one stated, being tall for his age and appearing even bigger because of his bolt upright posture. He was slender, almost thin; and though he didn`t seem to be much of a fighter, he seemed determined; his jaw was rather set. But the most remarkable thing about him were his intense, dark eyes which appeared to bore themselves right into Perry`s own. Involuntarily Perry took a step back. "What do you want?", he asked hesitantly. "My friend here says, you`ve got something I would like to have, something you usually have in your right pocket. " Perry put a protecting hand over said pocket. "How do you know about it?", he hissed. "It`s never good boasting about those things. Could get you into trouble.", Han replied with a sneaky smile. "Why should I give it to you?", retorted Perry. "One of the reasons could be it`s not permitted to possess flint powder in here and if the right person finds out, you`ll lose everything.", Han said with a snarl. Jed shifted uncomfortably beside him, noticing the threatening stance Perry adopted. The younger boy made himself ready to back up his cousin.
But Han stood his ground. His unrelenting stare continued, he wouldn`t waver in his mission. " Don`t worry. I don`t want it all. I only need a small amount.", and with a cunning smirk he added," It`s never bad to have an influential friend behind you." Perry contemplated Han`s point and with a side glance he regarded the smaller boy at Han`s side, who seemed willing enough to step into a fight at any moment to back up his friend. Perry remarked, "You`re Han, right? Got yourself quite a reputation. I think you got yourself a deal but remember you owe me." Han loosened up and this time his smile reached his eyes which had lost their hard stare.

The preparations in the orphanage continued. In the small classroom the blackboard was cleaned and chalk laid out. Tables were adjusted and three chairs were put in place for the warden and his visitors.
Finally, everyone settled in for the night. When everything was quiet, two boys furtively left the dormitory and in the faint light of a starlit sky sneaked out and over to the tool shed. The bigger boy opened the latch of a window with a small item while the smaller one kept watch. Having found the object of his desire, the boy inside climbed back out of the window, closed it carefully and stealthily they made their way to the small classroom to fulfil another task.
Afterwards, they silently tiptoed to the warden`s office and, making sure not to be seen, slipped into the room. Walking over to the desk, Han noticed a prepared pipe laying on it. He rummaged through a drawer and with a satisfied grin, took out another pipe and a small box of tobacco. He fetched a little pouch out of his pocket and transferred some of its content into the pipe. Then he added tobacco on top of it and placed the carefully arranged pipe onto the desk. He emptied the other one and put it back into the drawer.
Now they could return to the dormitory.

The next day the visitors arrived and were shown around the place.
"Now we would like to see if your endeavor to turn these poor orphans into law-abiding and productive members of our community is worth our donation." Of course, the warden acted very obliging.
All children wore their best clothes and stood beside the chairs awaiting further instructions. The warden entered the room and introduced his companions. The first was a small, paunchy man with a thick, black moustache. The woman was tall with a high-necked dress and spectacles, wearing her hair combed back in a strict bun; she stiffly walked to their predetermined chairs. The children were allowed to take a seat and the three persons did likewise. The only difference was that the moment they sat down their chairs collapsed beneath them!
Instantly the children were in turmoil, laughing and shouting. After they got themselves up, the warden glared daggers at the children and bellowed for silence. With profuse apologies he begged his visitors to have patience. He let his gaze wander over the orphans and paused at the sight of Han, whose countenance was almost angelic like. The warden`s gaze moved on to Jed`s blank expression, revealing nothing.
With a suspicious, evil expression he ordered Jed to step in front of the board.
"Let us show our guests something of your math skills, Jed."
Jed gulped, and with heavy feet shuffled over to said place. He grabbed a piece of chalk and faced his eternal damnation."Write 7x8 and its computational result." Paling, Jed acquiesced but the chalk just glided over the board, leaving not a single figure on it. A few children started giggling and the visitors observed the spectacle with deep frowns. Vividly exasperated the warden gave the orphans the eye to behave themselves and ordered another boy to take on the task but with the same outcome and suddenly the whole class erupted with laughter!
"Now we`ve had enough of this ruckus!" the paunchy gentleman called out.
"Mr. McKenzie, it seems you have absolutely no control over this ill-bred bunch!"
The wardens face assumed an unhealthy red color and he hastened to say," I don`t understand what...", but his guests had already turned to leave the classroom.
"Maybe we could talk this over in my office...". As he passed Han, he cut him a look but once again, the boy radiated nothing but pure innocence.

In his office the warden hurried to beg his guests to take a seat in his comfortable leather chairs in front of his desk. To calm himself he lit his prepared pipe, took a deep puff and laid it down again. "You see, this is the thanks I get for all my work with those unworthy orphans! May I give you a glass of fine sherry... ", he moved around his desk to fetch the beverages when with a big bang something exploded, leaving debris and sheets of paper flying around in a cloud of smoke. ...not to mention three stunned persons with singed hair....
After regaining her composure the woman yelled in a high-pitched voice," Under these circumstances you won`t get our donation! "And with these words both of them stormed out of the office.
Left alone, the warden slumped into his chair, his face twisted in anger. He had to figure out a way to catch the culprits...

Outside Han and Jed sat on a log watching the surrey leave with its disheveled passengers."Are you sure this was a smart thing to do, Han?", Jed asked with a doubting frown. "You think he`ll figure it out it was us?"
"Nah, how could he? You`ve got to admit it was a brilliant idea to grease the board with the rind, it worked! And did you see their somersaults because of the sawed chair legs?" he added with his indelible optimism.
Still skeptical, Jed responded, "And the flint powder?"
"That was the best of all," Han answered with an almost diabolic smirk, "He`ll think Owen, that little traitor, did it. Everyone knows it`s him who is supposed to prepare a fresh filled pipe each evening to be there the next morning. Now he knows I`ll retaliate when the right moment shows itself..."
"Remember, my mother always said. `Don`t go biting the hand that`s feeding you`." Jed couldn`t help himself returning to his worry that the warden would come after them.
"He has no proof at all. He`ll think twice before tangling with a genius again." , his cousin said complacently.
As Jed snorted, Han squinted his eyes challengingly, cocked his head and asked with a toothy grin, which revealed two well-known dimples," And what`s with your times tables? Would you have known the answer to `7x8` ?" Once again, his chocolate brown eyes were met with irritated daggers - but this time they came from intense sky-blue eyes....

***************************************************************************

The last prank is a part of old German literature I "borrowed" from an author called Wilhelm Busch.
He was a German humorist, poet, illustrator and painter. Busch published comic illustrated cautionary tales and invented the story of "Max and Moritz" (two naughty boys) around 1865. Some of his verses are still very common in Germany..
So maybe, maybe Max and Moritz` fourth prank was inspired by a young boy, far away in America, called Hannibal Heyes...who knows?

» June 2020 - The letter of the law
» May 2020 Grace
» Dec 2020 - A very quiet Christmas
» April 2020 - Lock Down
» November 2020 - We like to think there's a little bad in everyone