Chapter Text
Laredo, Texas, Wednesday, November 24th, 1880
Arriving in Laredo late in the afternoon of the 24th, the weary party took rooms at the well-appointed hotel catering for Anglo-American residents and visitors, cared for their horses, and retired for the night. They had accomplished the final 720 miles of the journey in twelve days steady riding, with no further delays or unpleasant accidents. To the surprise of Heyes and Curry, who had not given a thought to the celebration of Thanksgiving in years, they found themselves to be just in time for Thanksgiving dinner at the hotel on the following day.
“I suppose we do have a lot to be thankful for,” Heyes commented as they seated themselves at one of the long tables. “We’re here, we finished the job and got paid for it, and we’re not in jail.” His partner nodded, too intent on helping himself to the roast turkey, freshly made breads, and other roasts, stews, and main dishes to answer aloud.
American frontier hotel menu, Thanksgiving 1883
The hotel had created a family dining atmosphere for this one day, rather than offering smaller tables for individual parties as was usual. As the weather was fine and sunny, two pairs of double doors at one side of the dining room had been flung open to the patio, creating more room for tables laden with food and drink. Many of the town’s residents with backgrounds from English-speaking parts of the United States and territories had gathered to celebrate the American holiday together, including the entire contingent of Texas Rangers from Company B.
To avoid complications, Wellington simply refrained from introducing the two outlaws by either their true names or their aliases, merely saying to those of the Rangers who enquired that two friends had accompanied them on the trip down from Colorado, and leaving it to Heyes and Kid to decide how much or how little to say in response to the friendly welcome offered them.
The proclamation of President Hayes, designating the last Thursday of November as a national day of thanksgiving and prayer, was read aloud to the diners by the pastor of the newly built Methodist Episcopal church, together with an invitation to come to the special service of thanksgiving being held in the church at 6:00 p.m. that evening. The priest of the much larger Catholic church, San Agustín, had scheduled an English-language service of Vespers to be held at the same time, to which all were invited, even those who were not Catholic, if they did not choose to go to the M. E. service.
By the President of the United States of America
A Proclamation
At no period in their history since the United States became a nation has this people had so abundant and so universal reasons for joy and gratitude at the favor of Almighty God or been subject to so profound an obligation to give thanks for His loving kindness and humbly to implore His continued care and protection.
Health, wealth, and prosperity throughout all our borders; peace, honor, and friendship with all the world; firm and faithful adherence by the great body of our population to the principles of liberty and justice which have made our greatness as a nation, and to the wise institutions and strong frame of government and society which will perpetuate it--for all these let the thanks of a happy and united people, as with one voice, ascend in devout homage to the Giver of All Good.
I therefore recommend that on Thursday, the 25th day of November next, the people meet in their respective places of worship to make their acknowledgments to Almighty God for His bounties and His protection and to offer to Him prayers for their continuance.
In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.
Done at the city of Washington, this 1st day of November, A.D. 1880, and of the Independence of the United States the one hundred and fifth.
R.B. HAYES
By the President:
WM. M. EVARTS, Secretary of State.
When they returned to the hotel parlor to rest, after sampling every dish offered and, Heyes thought privately, probably eating far more than they needed, he looked up at the portrait of the current president which hung on the wall near the foot of the staircase. “It’s been so long since Kid and I even thought about the government, unless it affects us, that I keep forgettin’ that the President is named after me,” he remarked with a cheerful, innocent smile.
President Rutherford B. Hayes
Kid Curry snorted with disdain. Wellington looked up at the portrait. “I think he’s a bit older than you, Heyes. Perhaps he was named after your grandfather.”
Heyes and the innocent smile
His straight face and equally innocent tone caused the outlaw leader to do a quick double take, believing for a moment that the Englishman was serious. Then Heyes saw the smile on Miss Wellington’s face. “Oh. Yeah, probably so. Did you need us for anything this afternoon, Miss Wellington?”
“No. I don’t know about you, but I thought I would rest for a couple of hours before we go to the Methodist Episcopal church for the service of thanksgiving. Unless you would rather go to the Catholic Vespers service?”
Startled, Heyes exchanged a quick glance with his partner. He had not, in fact, given any thought to attending either church service, but he realized, the way the matter had been put, that he had little choice in the matter.
Kid smiled back at him wryly. “It won’t hurt us,” he muttered under his breath. Aloud, he added, “It don’t matter to us which one we go to, Miss Wellington. Your choice. I take it we’ll eat supper after the service.”
“That’s what I had planned. Paul? The Vespers service?”
“I was just thinking of that. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been able to attend Vespers, whether Anglican or Catholic. And since it’s to be in English, I take it our friends won’t mind? It would be different, of course, if it were in Latin.” Everyone nodded in agreement. “Vespers it is, then. We should meet here in the parlor at half-past five. San Agustín is about a quarter of a mile away—you can see the spire of the tower if you step out in the street and look southeast. It’s an easy walk.”
“You two understand Latin?”
The twins looked at one another. “We can read it well enough at a simple level, I suppose you might say,” Paul replied. “I, at least, was required to pass a reading comprehension examination in it when I entered the University of Oxford for my first year of study. Neither of us are Latin scholars, Heyes, if that’s what you’re asking. I shouldn’t allow it to worry me, were I you.”
Just as they were retrieving their room keys, they heard a crisp voice from the street entrance. “Paul? Miss Wellington?” They turned to see Captain Parmalee crossing the lobby. He nodded briefly to the two outlaws, then turned back to the twins. “Since today’s Thanksgiving Day, and you’re probably tired and full of food, I won’t ask you to make your report until tomorrow. I’d like to see you both in my office around nine.”
“We’ll be there, Captain.” Miss Wellington shot a quick look at their security escort. “I’d like to bring Joshua and Thaddeus along. They may have some things to add to the report that we might otherwise forget. And—I’m sorry—we never introduced you. This is Joshua Smith and his partner Thaddeus Jones. Captain Parmalee of Ranger Company B.”
The men shook hands with brief greetings. “Of course. And I’d like to thank you both for your help.” The Ranger captain smiled at the two men. “I know your job is done—maybe you weren’t thinking of sticking around much longer—but I’d like to talk to you about some of the things that happened on the trail. Nine o’clock O.K. with you?”
Heyes and Curry exchanged a quick glance. “Sure, Captain, we’ll be there.”
Watching the tall Ranger step through the big double doors and out into the street, Heyes turned to Paula. “Why’d you say that? We could’ve gotten along just fine without a formal interview with a captain of Texas Rangers—in his office, yet!”
“It’s not a formal interview with you, only with us. He wants to hear our report, and you’ll be given the opportunity to contribute anything you think we’ve left out. As to why I suggested it, Paul and I want both of you there so you will hear exactly what we say, or do not say, to the captain about you. Just so you won’t be wondering, and perhaps worrying. You’re not wanted in Texas,” she continued, lowering her voice, “so you could introduce yourselves to him by your real names and it wouldn’t make any difference. You’re in no danger here—not from the Rangers, at any rate. I just wanted you to be sure of that.”
Wellington added, “If you’ve noticed, we’ve taken care not to talk to him, or any of the Rangers, out of your hearing. I’d like to keep it that way, so you’re satisfied we haven’t told him anything you’d rather not have talked about.”
He led the way upstairs and along the passageway to the three rooms they had taken. “There is one thing you should know, and I should have mentioned it earlier. Back in Ratón, after the marshal had been kind enough to put those two murderous blighters in jail, I told him that I was a Ranger, and that we had hired you—Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones—to escort us to Laredo on Ranger business. He asked if we had any references for you, and I gave him the name you’d provided us with, Sheriff Lom Trevors. Later the marshal came over to the hotel to take a complete statement from me. He told me he’d heard from Captain Parmalee by telegraph, confirming everything I’d said. So Parmalee knows that much about you.”
“He knew that earlier,” objected Paula. “I wired him from Colorado Springs that we’d hired two men to escort us, and mentioned their names.”
“Yes. I expect the marshal’s wire from Ratón just confirmed it.”
“O.K. Thanks for lettin’ us know,” replied Heyes. “Just so there aren’t any surprises.”
“Precisely.” Wellington turned the key in the door of his room. “Until this evening.”
San Agustín, Laredo
Vespers, Heyes discovered, was a structured service of prayers and Scripture readings, mostly from the Book of Psalms, with some of the passages being read aloud by everyone—the people on the left side of the church reading one verse, answered by the people on the right side of the church with the next one. After the service was over, Wellington told him that the practice of reading the Psalms antiphonally was common to Morning Prayer and Vespers in both the Catholic and Anglican traditions. Heyes made a mental note of the new word—antiphonally—and its pronunciation and meaning. He took advantage of any opportunity to improve his vocabulary.
*** *** ***
“Kid?” The two outlaws were in their hotel room getting ready for bed. Even with the rest in the afternoon, it had been a very long day. Neither of them felt like trying to find a poker game; Heyes was dubious that men would be playing cards tonight, anyway, after the entire English-speaking part of the town had made such an important matter of following President Hayes’s proclamation for the day.
“Yeah?”
“If Vespers is what Catholics call their evening prayer service, how come Sister Julia didn’t call it that? You remember, she invited us to join her and Sister Isabelle in ‘the fellowship of Evening Prayer’?”
“I don’t know, Heyes. I wondered that at the time. I attended Episcopal services with Mama and Daddy Burnett, and they called it Evening Prayer. Maybe it’s because what Sister Julia was talking about wasn’t in a church building?”
“I suppose. Or maybe because there wasn’t a priest there. I didn’t know the Burnetts were Episcopal. You never said.”
“Didn’t figure you wanted to know,” retorted his cousin. “You could ask Miss Wellington tomorrow. If she doesn’t know, bet she could find out for you.”
“Yeah. Come to think of it, we’ve never told them about Sister Julia, and they’d probably like to hear that story.” Heyes pulled off his boots, shirt, and pants, and rolled into bed in his long handles. “G’night.”
“Night.” Kid blew out the lamp. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. “Heyes? You worried about talkin’ to a Ranger captain in the morning?”
“No, I’m not. I believe Wellington when he promised not to tell anybody our real names without my say-so, and I think we can trust what they’ve told us, more ’n’ once, about the Rangers not caring about outlaws that aren’t wanted in Texas. Besides, if we try to run now, it would attract attention, which is just what we don’t want.”
“O.K. Long as you trust them. I decided we could a while ago.”
“Just because you sent off that letter to Miss O’More telling her she could write you here,” accused Heyes.
“Yeah, there is that. In fact, I’d better check at the post office on the way over to Parmalee’s office in the morning. Maybe there’s a letter.”
“Very likely. Go to sleep.”
Friday, November 26th
Looking up from his desk, Captain Parmalee greeted them with a cheerful ‘good morning’ and waved them all to seats. “Coffee?”
They had had coffee with breakfast at the hotel, but Curry was always ready for more. “Thanks, Captain.” He and Heyes accepted cups.
Parmalee smiled ruefully at the Wellingtons. “I know you two don’t care for coffee, or for my efforts at tea-making, so I won’t offer.
Captain Edward Parmalee, Texas Ranger Co. B, Laredo, Texas
“Now. First of all, I’ve counted the money—here’s a receipt—and made arrangements for it to go where it was intended. Part of that’s confidential, so I won’t go into it. I have to thank you both for a job well done. And I’m glad you recognized that the situation might be getting out of hand—enough to decide to hire an escort. I know that was annoying for you. And thanks to you two”—he nodded to the outlaws—“for accepting the job and carrying it through so well. You’ve been paid? No complaints?”
“Our pleasure,” returned Heyes easily. “And yes, we’ve been paid, including a very generous bonus that Wellington promised us if there was more trouble after we left Denver. We certainly don’t have any complaints.”
“So there was trouble before you even left Denver? You’d better start at the beginning and fill me in. I don’t need to hear everything, just what bears on the security of the money and the confidentiality of your mission.”
Wellington began with the withdrawal of the cash from the bank and continued smoothly with a summary of the 23-day trip. He mentioned the night attack outside Colorado Springs, the rock pushed down on them in Ratón Pass, and the decision to take the train part of the way after an early snow storm had immobilized the entire north-eastern part of New Mexico. Brief accounts of their escort’s success in dealing with the outlaws in Denver and Colorado Springs were included, together with a quick account of catching the men who had attacked them in Ratón Pass and turning them over to the town marshal.
Heyes had to admire the way it was done. There was no hesitation, no hint that Smith and Jones were other than they seemed, and not the faintest reference to the fact that the men turned over to the New Mexico marshal had been bounty hunters. If the Ranger captain accepted the report as it was made, he and Kid were safe enough. He reckoned without Parmalee’s long experience in deciphering the meaning behind incomplete or misleading reports, and his uncanny ability to come up with contradictory information from other sources unknown to his Rangers.
“Thank you; that’s perfectly clear. Mr. Smith? Mr. Jones? Anything more to add?”
The partners had offered a few additions and emendations while Wellington was speaking, but now they both shook their heads. “I think that about covers it,” said Curry.
“I’ll repeat what I said earlier. The four of you did an excellent job, and the state of Texas is grateful. I just have a few questions.” Parmalee looked around at each face, then returned his gaze to Paul Wellington. “It’s not the usual thing, here in Texas, to ask if a man used a different name somewhere else, even when he introduces himself as Smith or Jones.”
Heyes stiffened. It wasn’t going to be so easy, then.
“But because this mission involved a confidential transfer of a considerable sum of money outside normal banking channels, and because you had so much trouble, I’m going to ask. Wellington, did you know these men’s real names?”
The Englishman didn’t blink. “Not at the time I hired them; no, sir.”
“That implies you discovered them later.”
The twins looked at each other. Miss Wellington glanced at Heyes, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. “I knew their names, and I told Paul at the end of the first day out.”
“I’d like to hear…,” the captain encouraged her.
“No, sir. We’ve promised to say no more. They’re not wanted in Texas, so their true names shouldn’t be a matter that concerns the Rangers.”
Parmalee digested this unexpected development. “All right. I can understand that. If you were going to say that their names had nothing to do with the trouble you encountered on the road, though, even though they didn’t cause the trouble …”
He paused. No one said anything.
Heyes hesitated. He wasn’t going to let their new friends get into difficulties with their superior through an honorable attempt to keep the promises they had made. “I suppose we …” he began.
“Joshua,” interrupted Wellington, “we promised not to say, and we also promised you’d be safe here. Sir, there’s no need …”
Now Parmalee had a clearer picture of the situation. The Wellingtons were attempting to fulfil an honorable obligation, probably because Smith and Jones had helped to save their lives and had risked their own in keeping the money safe. He intervened, “No, as a matter of fact there isn’t. You knew the Ratón marshal had wired me.” Receiving a nod, he continued, “I take it he didn’t show you the contents of the telegraph he sent, or the one I sent back.”
“No, he just told me everything was confirmed,” replied Paul, “and then took a written statement from me so he could hold those two men on charges of assault. We were able to prove that they were responsible for the rock fall in the pass by checking the tracks of their boots, and their horses’ shoes, and then going back up to the site. It was clear enough what had happened.”
The captain nodded. “Here’s the telegraph he sent me.” He passed the yellow form to Miss Wellington, who handed it to her brother. It was then passed to Smith, and Jones returned it.
RATON N MEX 845AM NOV 8 1880
CAPTAIN E PARMALEE
TEXAS RANGER COMPANY B LAREDO TEXAS
CONFIRM PAUL WELLINGTON WORKS FOR YOU STOP CONFIRM JOSHUA SMITH THADDEUS JONES HIRED AS SECURITY ESCORT ON RANGER BUSINESS STOP BOUNTY HUNTERS HERE CLAIM SMITH AND JONES ARE OUTLAWS HANNIBAL HEYES AND KID CURRY STOP REGARDS
G ELLIOT MARSHAL RATON N MEX 842AM
The outlaws’ faces remained impassive, but Parmalee thought he could detect a slight tension as they saw their names written out in the telegraph from New Mexico.
“And here’s a copy of my return wire.” The second form was passed around.
LAREDO TEX 900AM NOV 8 1880
MARSHAL G ELLIOT
RATON N MEX
PAUL WELLINGTON AND SISTER BOTH WORKING FOR ME ON RANGER BUSINESS STOP AWARE JOSHUA SMITH THADDEUS JONES HIRED AS ESCORT DENVER TO LAREDO STOP ALREADY FOILED ROBBERY NEAR COLORADO SPRINGS STOP OF HIGHEST IMPORTANCE WELLINGTONS SMITH JONES REACH LAREDO WITH FUNDS THEY CARRY STOP SMITH AND JONES HAVE LAW ENFORCEMENT EXPERIENCE WERE RECOMMENDED BY SHERIFF STOP NO KNOWLEDGE OF BOUNTY HUNTERS CLAIM STOP KIND REGARDS
E PARMALEE CAPT RANGER CO B LAREDO TEXAS 857AM
“Of course, those bounty hunters could have been mistaken—that’s one of the many things wrong with that system. I’ve seen good men killed because a bounty hunter was more interested in the reward than in the truth, or whether a capital crime had been committed.” He waited, watching the two outlaws, but they said nothing. “So I wrote to Sheriff Trevors in Porterville, Wyoming, since I’d already received a telegraph from him giving the two of you very good references. I said the state of Texas had no interest in Hannibal Heyes or Kid Curry, who were not wanted here, but that I needed some more information because the two of you had inadvertently become involved in a confidential Ranger mission. His reply arrived three days ago. I’ll read parts of it to you.” He drew an envelope from his desk drawer and unfolded the letter it contained.
Heyes and Kid exchanged astonished glances, and Heyes gave an infinitesimal shrug before turning back to Parmalee with a bemused smile. Apparently they weren’t going to be arrested any time soon—not here in Laredo, just as the Wellingtons had told them. Whatever it contained, they could be sure that Lom’s letter would put them in a favorable light.
“We’d like to hear it, Captain. We’ve known Lom Trevors a long time, and he’s been sheriff there in Porterville for almost five years now. Whatever he said, you can be sure it’s honest and straightforward.”
“He had very good things to say about you as well … ah, Mr. Heyes?” It was quite clear to Parmalee, even on this very short acquaintance, which of the two men was accustomed to speak for the pair, and which was likely to be the leader; also, Smith’s description loosely matched the one for Hannibal Heyes on the wanted posters he had turned up earlier.
“Yeah, I’m Heyes. There’s no point in denying it now, is there?”
“No point, and no need, either,” responded Parmalee. “Nobody knows you down here. I was trying to identify who those bounty hunters were talking about, and I finally remembered that your wanted posters were sent to me some time in ’seventy-nine. I put them in an inactive file, because they’re of no concern to me or my men.” He produced two folded papers. “Here. You can have them if you like. You two were active mainly in Wyoming, weren’t you?”
Both outlaws nodded. Heyes took the flyers, not quite sure what they were going to do with them, and found, to his surprise, that Miss Wellington was twitching them gently out of his hands. He allowed her to take them, resolving to ask her later why she wanted them.
“And not even there for quite a while now, as far as I’ve been able to discover,” Parmalee went on, with a reassuring smile. “Trevors’s letter bears that out—he says something here about talking to you in late 1879, and says you’ve gone straight since then.”
“October of ’seventy-nine,” Kid confirmed. “And, yeah, we have. Our last train robbery was that month, and we’d given up robbing banks a few months earlier. We realized that instead of taking money from rich, dishonest bankers, we might be hurtin’ poor folks, maybe small homesteaders, just like our folks were back in Kansas.”
“I don’t want you thinkin’ we went straight because we thought it was a noble thing to do,” added Heyes. “Things were just gettin’ too difficult—safes too good, telegraph lines going up everywhere, posses getting bigger, and lawmen generally smarter. We thought we should quit while we were ahead. Especially after our last job went really, really bad. Nobody got hurt or anything like that,” he added hastily, seeing Parmalee’s eyebrows go up. “It was my fault. Bad planning. Got our dynamite wet, couldn’t get the safe open, had little old lady passengers sympathizing and telling us we weren’t very good at this sort of thing, another passenger sayin’ we oughta find ourselves another line of work. ‘Shame, eternal shame, and nothing but shame’,” he quoted. “That’s when we decided to go talk to Lom—we’d known him from ’way back and thought maybe he could advise us.” He finished up this speech with a deprecating grin.
Captain Parmalee had put up his hand to his mouth for a moment, as though to wipe coffee from his lips, but actually to hide a smile; he looked up with a serious face, having recognized the quotation. “You read Shakespeare, Mr. Heyes?”
“Yeah, some of it. I really liked that one, Henry the Fifth—don’t know why I remembered that line out of it, though. And just call me Heyes—everybody does. Unless one of your men walks in. Then you’d better say ‘Smith’, if you don’t mind.”
“Would you mind taking a look upstairs to see if any of the men are around? Heyes is right—parts of this conversation should remain between the five of us.”
Wellington went quickly up the stairs to the right of the door when one came in from the street. Taking a look around the barracks, he closed the door at the top of the stairs and returned to his seat. “Nobody there, Captain.”
“Good. When I said to come at nine, I didn’t think any of them would be here. The few who are in town are at the Ranger stables, getting things cleaned up for the day. That’s unless they’re in the saloon.”
“Captain?” Heyes looked up at Parmalee, who had risen to pour out fresh coffee from the pot he had put on the stove earlier to perk, with an ingratiating smile. “Could I ask why you wrote to Lom about us? If you already had a good idea who we were, and I guess you’d already decided you weren’t gonna have us arrested when we got here …”
The ingratiating smile
“No, certainly not.” The Ranger captain refilled all three coffee mugs and resumed his seat. “I wrote to Sheriff Trevors because I wanted to offer you both jobs—here, right now, in Company B. I understand you’re probably not in a position to sign up for a three-year enlistment, though that option’s open if you’re interested, but I thought maybe you could give us your time, and the benefit of your expertise, just for a month or two on a temporary basis, like Mr. and Miss Wellington do every winter.”
Seeing that Heyes and Curry were bereft of speech, he took a swallow of the fresh hot coffee and went on. “The fact is I’m short of men right now. The company is under strength. We should have fifteen men here, and right now we have twelve. And I’ve got a couple of jobs coming up where I’ll need every man, and then some. Especially men who can ride and shoot and, most important, think for themselves. Trevors told me you had some law enforcement experience. Can you tell me about that?”
Heyes exchanged another quick look with his partner. “Uh, yeah, sure.” He looked at Kid again. Why on earth would Lom say that?
Kid’s soft drawl was in marked contrast to his partner’s intense, loquacious delivery. “We both worked for Lom as deputies, just after we went straight. Just for a few days, really, but there’d been three bank robbery attempts while Lom was out of town. The bank building was damaged, and he needed our help to stay on top of things until the bank’s holdings could be put in a safe place—well, really, until the bank owner came back from a business trip. And since I’d already been helping the bank manager out, working as a security guard, it was easy enough to help Lom out for a while when he was short-handed.”
Seeing that Parmalee was not going to comment, he continued. “Then—oh, end of last spring—the sheriff in Big Bend, New Mexico deputized us to take two bank robbers his men had caught over to Junction City where they could be tried.[1] On the way, we caught the other two of the gang. Managed to turn all four of them over to the law. Heyes helped the circuit judge recover the money from that bank robbery, too, usin’ some information he found out from talkin’ to those boys while we were bringing ’em in.”
That’s sure leaving a lot out, thought Heyes. Well, we can tell him the rest later, if he wants to know. I suppose it would look good to say we helped catch a crooked sheriff. Aloud, he picked up where Kid had left off. “There was one more time—kind of an odd situation. I took a job as guide for a small party going up into the Laramie Range in southern Wyoming, into the same area where my gang’s hideout was, as a matter of fact. One of the men got himself murdered. I helped another member of the party, who turned out to be a Scotland Yard detective from London, to solve the murder and pin the blame on the leader of our own party, rather than on the boys from my gang, which I suppose is where the killer wanted it put when he arranged a trip up into that area. But those boys never killed anybody—and none of them would shoot a man in the back from ambush. It made me mad, and I was determined to get to the bottom of the killing. Detective-Sergeant Finney said I was a big help to him. Kid was off on another job, transporting dynamite for a mining company.”
“Did the Scotland Yard man know who you were?” Parmalee was intrigued.
“You know, I’m not sure,” replied Heyes. “He did say something when he was leaving that gave me the idea he was kind of thinking about it, that he knew my name wasn’t Smith. But he didn’t follow it up. Later, when he looked me up to give me the money I’d been promised for the job, he still didn’t say anything. Of course I didn’t push it. He didn’t have any jurisdiction allowing him to arrest a Wyoming outlaw, but there was no sense in taking chances. Two other times, Kid and I helped get the law onto a crooked banker, and one time we helped a friend of ours expose an investment broker who’d been embezzling from his own firm. I think that’s about it.”
“We cleared a man from a murder charge—helped the sheriff lay a trap for the real killer. He had our wanted posters up in his office, too, but he never knew who we were, just that we helped him on that murder investigation,” supplied Kid.[2] “So I guess Lom’s right—we do have some law enforcement experience. I never thought about it that way.”
“How would Sheriff Trevors know about all of those incidents? They must have taken place over a period of several months.”
“Well, I write to him, or send him a wire, almost every week,” Heyes explained. “Just to let him know where we are and what we’re doing, in case he wants to find us, or anybody gets the idea they’ve seen us committing a crime. My letters to Lom can prove where we were, and more important, where we weren’t. His idea.” Suddenly realizing he was coming too close to talking about the amnesty offer, which he did not have permission to do, he fell silent.
Parmalee nodded thoughtfully, scanning the letter he held. “It may interest you to know, gentlemen, that Sheriff Trevors lists every one of those incidents, and one or two you didn’t talk about. His descriptions are a little different, and in most cases they contain more detail than you gave. He does mention this reporting arrangement you just described, Heyes. He also says he thinks you’d both do a very good job as Texas Rangers, even if you can’t stay here long. That’s about the best recommendation I could have asked for. What do you say? Will you take the jobs?”
As they hesitated, the captain added, “I’d pay you by the week. The pay is forty dollars a month, but we have ammunition stores you can draw from, and we’d cover your room and board at the hotel if you don’t choose to stay in the barracks, which I suspect you will prefer not to. You supply your own horses, clothing, and guns, and you’d have to pay for the care of your own horses if you keep them in the livery stable rather than in the stable attached to our barracks. You can think about it for a few days if you’d rather.”
“I think the answer’s yes,” said Heyes, taking counsel of his partner with a quick glance as usual. “We’ll take the jobs on that basis, and we’ll stay in the hotel, like you said. I don’t know how long we can stay in Laredo—a few months, I hope.”
Parmalee laid out forms to cover the temporary enlistment agreement. “You can sign whichever names you please. If you sign your real ones, I’ll keep these forms in the safe, just so you won’t have to worry about them falling into the wrong hands. You can give the men any names you like. Chad Cooper and three others of my best men will be back some time on Monday. I’ll introduce you and they can show you around. I don’t think I’ll need you until then.” He smiled at the two outlaws. “Cooper’s a fast draw, and from what Sheriff Trevors says here, I’d guess you can make that claim as well, Curry. Having some competition in town will keep Cooper on his toes. We have a shooting range set up in the alley behind our stable. You’re welcome to practice there any time.”
He collected the forms, had Paul Wellington sign them both as a witness, and put them aside to be stored in the safe, since his new Rangers had signed their names as Hannibal Heyes and Jedidiah Curry. “Unless there’s something else any of you want to bring up, I’ll see you on Monday—three of you, anyway. Miss Wellington, we won’t need you for a week or more, unless something special comes up. Take your time and enjoy your visit to Laredo.”
“Thank you.” She rose, putting away her knitting and picking up her reticule, and waited while the men shook hands. Heyes offered her his arm, and she and the two outlaws stepped into the street. Wellington remained behind, saying he would see them later at the hotel and they could decide where to eat lunch.
When the two of them were left alone, Captain Parmalee looked curiously at his British Ranger. “Something else?”
“Yes, sir. It’s personal, not Ranger business. I suppose you’ll be writing back to Sheriff Trevors?” At the captain’s nod, he continued, “Then I wish you’d try to find out something for me. I’m a trifle concerned for my sister. Heyes won’t offer her insult—it’s not that I’m afraid for her to be alone with him or anything of that nature; besides, Curry or I have been chaperoning her all the way down here. But you saw—” He waved his hand toward the street door. “He offered her his arm, and she took it without hesitation—and you know Paula. She doesn’t accept an escort from just anyone, even if it’s only to walk the length of the street. In fact, she’s not altogether keen on spending time in the company of any man. But now …” He stopped.
“Yes, I see your point,” replied Parmalee. “You want me to find out more about Heyes, besides what you already know, that he’s an outlaw who has gone straight, and that he’s still wanted by the law in Wyoming?”
“I was thinking of something more specific than that. Heyes has never said, though this morning he came close to it. I think there’s some arrangement between those two and their friend Lom Trevors. Heyes really does write to him every week. I’ve seen him do it. Some arrangement, perhaps, that requires him to correspond regularly with his friend, who just happens to be a Wyoming sheriff.”
“I think I can answer your question right now. It’s here, in Trevors’s letter. He asks me to keep the matter confidential, as he was asked to do, but he also says that I may disclose it if there is need—the same condition that was placed on him by the governor of the Wyoming Territory. Heyes and Curry have been promised an amnesty by Governor Hoyt, he says here, but it’s conditioned upon their staying out of trouble for a year or two, proving they can do that and not give in to the temptation to return to the outlaw life.” The captain looked up from the letter. “He doesn’t give me details, but he says he will if I need more. That tells you a fair amount about Heyes’s character, and his future prospects, I’d say.”
“Yes. Yes, it does. Thank you, Captain. And I’ll keep it to myself, except that I might tell Paula, if there’s a need.”
“That’s understood.”
“And if I may offer advice, sir, I’d say you should tell Heyes and the Kid that you know about the amnesty arrangement. It might induce them to trust you more, though you’ve done a lot there already. They don’t trust very easily.”
“Not surprising if they’ve been on the run for over a year. They’d never feel quite safe. You didn’t say how you knew them, or how Miss Wellington did.”
“Oh. To make a short story of it, we were passengers on a train through Wyoming in July of ’seventy-eight, the very day of the total solar eclipse. Heyes and his gang held up the train just about an hour afterwards. He told me that he had timed the hold-up so as to make sure his men got the opportunity to watch the eclipse, since it won’t occur again in our lifetimes—at least, not in that part of Wyoming. I didn’t remember them—Curry had a moustache when I hired them, which changes his face quite a bit, and I don’t think I ever saw Heyes up close during the hold-up, but Paula did. She remembered him, and guessed that his partner was Kid Curry, since they’re known to ride together.” He chuckled. “We didn’t want to worry them, or have them walk off the job too soon, since we really needed them, so we didn’t tell them right away that we knew their names. It came out, more or less by accident, just north of Ratón, when we were ambushed by those bounty hunters. Paula called out Heyes’s name as a warning; otherwise he’d have been hit by the rock they pushed down on us. Then we had to have the whole matter out about how we knew them. All went well until they discovered the Ranger badge in my saddlebag. Things were a trifle dodgy for a while, but we sorted it out.”
The two men parted company, and Paul Wellington set out to walk to the hotel, still worried about his sister, and somewhat disturbed in mind in consequence.
[1] q.v. the second-season episode “Jailbreak at Junction City,” which actually referred to a town of ‘Big Ben’, New Mexico—one presumes a reference to a location just north of the Big Bend area of west Texas. The reference in the episode to the town being within easy reach of the McCreedy Ranch bears that out, since we know that McCreedy and Armendáriz live on opposite sides of the Rio Grande in an area where the river keeps changing course. That puts the McCreedy Ranch just south of El Paso.
[2] q.v. the second-season episode “Something to Get Hung About.”