Chapter Text
Miss O’More’s house, Telluride, Colorado, December 26th, 1881
Having helped to convey Miss O’More to her house and seen her carried in and put to bed, after she had suddenly collapsed in the kitchen of the Irish Rose, Richard Bancroft, her man of business, paused in the front parlor, thinking rapidly. The doctor had already been sent for, though it might be a while before he arrived, what with the number of people in the town who were ill. The best thing to do for Miss O’More if, as he suspected, the doctor pronounced it to be another severe case of the grippe—or influenza, to call it by its newer name—would be to have her moved to his home so that he and Hannah could look after her properly. She would need constant nursing until the worst of the illness was past. He sat down at Lillian’s desk and dashed off a quick note to his wife, warning her to make preparations. Tommy, the deaf boy who helped at the Irish Rose, was waiting to run errands or carry messages, and would take it there directly.
What else must be done? Well, if I knew how to reach Thaddeus Jones, he certainly has a right to know. Especially since they were betrothed at the end of the summer. Struck by a sudden thought, he turned back to the desk. He knew where Lillian kept the key, but rather to his surprise, the slanted front was only latched at the top with a thumb latch, not locked. Since she was in the habit of corresponding with the young man on a regular basis, it was entirely possible that a letter of his or an outgoing letter of hers, from which he could discover an address, would be found in the desk.
He opened the front panel, letting it lie flat, suspended by its leather supports. Here was a piece of paper in Lillian’s handwriting—not a letter, but something else. He picked it up. Mrs. Jedidiah Curry, it said. The name was written out several times. Jedidiah Curry—that must be Jones’s real name. Well, I always knew it couldn’t possibly be Jones. The sheriff and I discussed that this past summer—that maybe Jones and his partner were trying to escape an unwanted reputation, possibly as hired guns. He said as long as they behaved themselves here in town, they were welcome to use whatever names they pleased. And they’ve certainly been quiet and law-abiding, the two times they’ve been here.
Under that piece of paper was what appeared to be a half-finished letter, which started off, unsurprisingly enough, ‘Dear Jed’. Still no sign of an address. He picked up the letter to see if an envelope was underneath it. While he did so, his eyes rested on the body of the letter—private, he knew, but as an attorney, he had found years ago that it was impossible to keep himself from reading anything that came in his way. He scanned the writing absently, intending to put the paper aside and continue his search for an envelope or something else with an address.
Suddenly Bancroft froze, unable for a moment to remember to breathe. Halfway down the page, he had seen a name. Just one word: Heyes. Not a common name, especially not spelled the English way, with two E’s. But without a given name in front of it, it meant nothing. He scolded himself for being an alarmist. Certainly it didn’t mean what he was thinking—that the only time in the past five years he had seen that name was in sensationalised newspaper accounts of the exploits of that well-known pair of Wyoming bank and train robbers, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. Curry. No, that couldn’t be. No longer concerned with the ethics of violating Miss O’More’s private correspondence, he began to read the letter in earnest, looking for another clue, some more information, anything that would disprove what he suspected.
Instead, he ran across another section. ‘Give Heyes and Paula my love, and tell Paula that I’ve managed to acquire the evidence we needed for that one missing night in May 1880 that you told me about. I have an affidavit from the hotel clerk, which fills in all the gaps for that month.’ That indicates that Joshua Smith, who is betrothed to Miss Paula Wellington, is identical with Heyes. Joshua Smith, who is inseparable from his partner Thaddeus Jones, whose real name is Jedidiah Curry.
Richard Bancroft tries to decide what to do
Richard Bancroft sat down rather suddenly in the desk chair. So it’s true. And Lillian knows—Lillian O’More. Whatever they’re up to, she is involved, at least to the extent of protecting them. From this lower position, he was able to see two more items: one a white envelope with ‘Thaddeus Jones’ written across it in the recipient’s position, followed by an address, and the other a fat manila envelope stuffed with what appeared to be clippings from the Rocky Mountain News. He picked up the white envelope and found himself staring in disbelief at the address, which was ‘c/o Captain Edward Parmalee, Texas Rangers, Co. B, Laredo, Texas’.
Quickly he made a copy of the address, then picked up the envelope of clippings. They formed a complete, or nearly complete, record of everything Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had done or had been accused of doing from about 1877 right up through the end of 1879. Something was odd about that. There were stories of robberies after that date, but in every case, the clipping had been pinned together with a later one, reporting the outlaws cleared of the crime they were alleged to have committed.
Then he saw another clipping, also from the Rocky, dating from the previous spring. It was a thrilling account of an attempted bank robbery in Idaho Springs, Colorado, describing the heroic actions of one Mr. Thaddeus Jones, his friend Mr. Joshua Smith, and the latter’s fiancée, Miss Wellington, who had stopped the robbery and aided in the apprehension of the robbers. He remembered having seen something in the Telluride paper about an attempted bank robbery in Idaho Springs. He had known that Smith and Jones were in Idaho Springs at the time, because Jones had been writing regularly to Miss O’More during the entire spring from that town, but he had not read the article and so had missed the connection.
Richard leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes for a moment. Dear God in Heaven! What am I to do?
As if in answer to his prayer, thoughts and pictures began flooding into his mind: he, Richard, baptizing Thaddeus—Kid Curry, as he now knew—with his own hands in the river the previous summer, and the joy on the young man’s face when he came up out of the water; Thaddeus telling him seriously that he had killed two men[1], both while defending or avenging another man, and had crippled a third man[2] who was trying to kill him, and he wondered if God could forgive him; the long, faithful correspondence with Lillian O’More, every ten days or so without fail, for almost a year now every time they had been apart; Smith—Hannibal Heyes—taking such care while performing a fraud audit for the bank, careful to never be left alone with the money or the combination to the safe, actually finding some irregularities and recommending that the bank have a formal audit done after those were corrected; both of them working hard for barely adequate pay the entire summer while they were in Telluride, in addition to doing a great deal of work for Lillian and her Irish Rose restaurant without pay; Curry’s eager acceptance of the invitation to join the men’s Bible study, while Heyes had engaged in long conversations with Richard, asking question after question about Christian baptism and how and why it could have such an effect on his partner; the story in the paper of the foiled bank robbery in Idaho Springs; the day he had seen Heyes posting a letter addressed to a Sheriff Trevors in Wyoming; Miss Wellington, clearly a law-abiding lady of good family, and her obvious love for her betrothed—come to think of it, she must know who they are, and what’s going on, whatever it is, as well …
I need to talk to Hannah before I decide what to do, he thought to himself, but I already know what I’m not going to do. The law is not going to hear about this from me. That was a real, true, honest conversion that I saw Curry make. He’s a brother in Christ now. I can’t possibly turn him in, and turning one of them in without the other would be dishonorable, as well as laying me open to a charge of concealing a fugitive. Besides, it’s obvious they’re no longer pursuing their earlier profession. I want to encourage them, not put difficulties in their way. I wonder what they are doing? And then this address for Curry—in care of a captain of Texas Rangers?
Richard’s train of thought was broken by Dr. Hoogendyk, who came up to him where he was still sitting in Lillian’s front parlor. “Mr. Bancroft? It’s the influenza, all right. She has a fever and it’s mounting. She’ll need careful nursing.”
“That’s all right, Doctor. I’ve already sent a message to my wife. We’ll have her conveyed to our house and we’ll look after her. Hannah has done a good deal of sick nursing. She'll know what to do, and she will certainly be able to follow any instructions you give us. I’m just going home right now, as a matter of fact, to see that everything is in readiness.”
“At your home? Excellent. She should do well there. It’s taking her badly, though. She will probably get a great deal worse before she begins to mend.”
A few minutes later, a bemused Richard Bancroft set out for his home, but almost immediately another thought occurred to him. He changed direction and headed for the telegraph office. The sooner he got the wire off to Mr. Curry, the better—and he had an idea how he could kill two birds with one stone, as it were. If I warn them, obliquely, that I know who they are, without giving them any guarantees, then their subsequent actions, or at least his, will tell me everything I need to know. If he decides not to take the risk, it will break her heart, but she’ll be better off without him, whereas if they come, risking their freedom, Curry for Lillian’s sake, and Heyes because he won’t leave his partner, it will say a good deal about their characters. And Thaddeus needs to know anyway—if he’s the sort of man I think he is, he’d never forgive us if she were to be at death’s door and no one thought to inform him.
TELLURIDE COLO 1147AM DEC 26 1881
E PARMALEE CAPT RANGER CO B
LAREDO TEX
URGENT I GET IN TOUCH WITH THADDEUS JONES REGARDING ILL HEALTH OF LILLIAN OMORE BETROTHED TO HIM STOP PLEASE ADVISE OF WHEREABOUTS OR ASK HIM TO WIRE STOP YOURS FAITHFULLY
R BANCROFT COUNSELLOR-AT-LAW TELLURIDE COLO 1144AM
Uncertain whether he should wait in the hope of an immediate reply, Richard had not even left the telegraph office when the telegrapher turned to take an incoming message. “Mr. Bancroft? Wait. This is addressed to you.”
LAREDO TEX 1154AM DEC 26 1881
R BANCROFT COUNSELLOR-AT-LAW
TELLURIDE COLO
THANK YOU FOR INFORMATION STOP RANGERS THADDEUS JONES JOSHUA SMITH CHAD COOPER ALSO MISS WELLINGTON WORKING IN ONEIDA TEXAS STOP MAY BE REACHED ONEIDA HOTEL STOP WARM REGARDS
E PARMALEE CAPT RANGER CO B LAREDO TEX 1151AM
Richard drew another telegraph form toward him and began to write, this time pausing for thought and to get the phrasing exactly right. For the moment, he put out of his mind the idea that the unknown Ranger captain had referred to Jones and Smith as Rangers who were working for him. Richard knew that if he thought about the implications of that too much, he would start to feel like the heroine of Lewis Carroll’s peculiar book.
TELLURIDE COLO 1201PM DEC 26 1881
THADDEUS JONES ONEIDA HOTEL
ONEIDA TEX
MANY IN TOWN DOWN WITH INFLUENZA MISS OMORE GRAVELY ILL BEING NURSED MY HOUSE STOP FOUND CLIPPINGS LETTER WITH ADDRESS IN DESK STOP UNDERSTAND IF YOU ARE UNABLE TO COME STOP SINCERELY
R BANCROFT COUNSELLOR-AT-LAW TELLURIDE COLO 1158AM
After reading his message over carefully, the lawyer paid for it to be sent and told the telegrapher he would wait. Unless Jones was out and they were unable to find him right away, Bancroft knew he would send some kind of reply as soon as he got the message.
Oneida, Texas, Monday, December 26th, 1881, 12:06 p.m.
Heyes got up to answer the knock on the door of their hotel room. They had been sitting quietly, talking with Paula about the festivities and the church services they had attended on Christmas Day. Thanking the telegraph messenger, he shut the door and turned to Kid, holding out the yellow envelope. “From Telluride.” The messenger had been unwilling to attempt the pronunciation and had simply written the town name on the envelope.
“What? She wouldn’t send Christmas greetings by wire—she already sent a card.” Kid snatched the envelope, opened it, and stared at the telegraph message, all the color draining from his face. With a quick glance at Paula, Heyes took the form and held it for her to read over his shoulder.
“I’ve got to find out train schedules. I think Tucumcari is the closest place we can catch a train.”
“Hold on. That’s not all we have to find out,” warned Heyes. As his partner appeared to be ignoring him, he added sharply, “I mean it, Kid. We have to take some time right now to talk about this. A few minutes’ delay in sending a reply won’t matter.”
Kid seemed to be almost in a daze—understandable, thought Heyes. He himself was shocked at the clear indication that Bancroft knew who they were. That was in addition to the matter of Lillian’s illness.
“You’re right,” continued Curry with an effort. “We have to find out about the trains first anyway.”
Paula put on her hat. “How would it be if I do that? I’ll wire the railroad office in Tucumcari and find out what we need to know on that end, while you decide what to write. I’ll meet you at the telegraph office.”
“Thanks.” Heyes squeezed her hand. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.” Only after she had departed did he realize that she was speaking as though she knew they were going to Telluride and she was going with them. When the first leg of the trip is a ride of over a hundred miles to Tucumcari? I can see I’ve got some things to discuss with her as well, he thought, forgetting for the moment what had happened when he had tried to convince her to stay behind in June, as they were preparing to leave Idaho Springs.
He looked back at his partner. “Kid, Lillie’s not dead. That’s the main thing.”
“Yeah, I know. But ‘gravely ill’ with the grippe. That’s pretty bad.” He met his partner’s eyes. “Heyes, you don’t have to come. But I’ve got to get there as soon as I can manage it.”
“I’m not lettin’ you go without me. See what he says here about the clippings? Remember that clippings file Lillian showed us, the one she said she’d been keeping since she first met us? He knows who we are, Kid. So you—we—could be riding into a trap.”
Kid gave him a long look. He himself trusted Richard completely—Richard had baptized him, after all. “Heyes, sometimes you gotta have a little faith.”
“You know I’m not very good at that. But I guess it’s unlikely he’d warn us and then set a trap for us. If he was planning to have us arrested, he shouldn’t have said anything at all, and we’d have just ridden on in. He’d have had us dead to rights.”
“I think he sent the warning on purpose,” said Kid. “See here, where he says he’ll understand if I’m unable to come. In other words, he thinks I might not want to risk it. But I got to, Heyes.”
“Of course you do. So we should let him know we got the warning, maybe sign our real initials to the wire.” Heyes wrote out a draft message on the back of the envelope. “How’s this? MESSAGE UNDERSTOOD LEAVING FOR TUCUMCARI SANTA FE DURANGO WIRE UPDATES TO T JONES DURANGO. JC & HH. We can wire again when we get to Santa Fe.”
“Sounds good to me. We gotta get packed, plan on leavin’ as soon as we can start.”
“No. We and our horses would do better with at least a few hours rest before we start. You won’t do Lillian any good by not getting there at all because you were too tired to go on. Figure we can get to Tucumcari in about eighteen hours, maybe less—O.K., we just need to know how soon a train is leaving out of there going north and west, then leave in time to catch it, maybe give ourselves a couple extra hours to be on the safe side. And we’re still workin’ for Captain Parmalee. We’ve got to wire him, or let Chad know and ask him to take care of that. Unless Parmalee can work something out in time, we’ll be riding off without collecting our pay for the past month of Ranger work. That’s forty dollars apiece for the month of December. We’ll need that money for travelling—we should at least make a try for it. Face it, Kid. I don’t think we’ll be able to leave today.”
There was a silence. Then Curry nodded reluctantly. “I guess there’s no sense in worryin’, is there? Let’s get over to the telegraph office and see what Paula’s been able to find out. And I’ve got to get this wire off to Richard. He’s probably waitin’ for a reply.”
At the telegraph office, Paula was waiting with several message forms in her hands. The outlaws both came to read over her shoulders as she spread them open one at a time. “This is from the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe. A train leaves Tucumcari every morning at 11:30 a.m.[3] Because that’s the end of the line, they always have stock cars coming in on the arriving trains, so they can accommodate our horses. The west-bound train isn’t usually crowded enough to make reservations advisable. But they can only get us as far as Santa Fe, by way of that spur line that goes north from Lamy.”
Heyes nodded slowly. “Oh, yeah. I remember seeing the signs for that on the way down through there last November. But they were building track to Española to connect with the Denver and Rio Grande. I know they were.”
“Apparently no one’s completed it yet. So I wired the D&RG. They advise that it takes about five hours to ride or take the stage between Santa Fe and Española, and they have a train that leaves at half-past eleven in the evening, timed to accommodate passengers leaving the AT&SF train when it gets into Santa Fe at 4:45 p.m.. A stock car will be available.[4]”
She produced a third telegraph. “That train goes to Antonito in Colorado, where we change trains. It’s still the Denver and Rio Grande line, but we have to catch the train coming down from Denver and going through to Durango, so there’s a wait in Antonito for the south-bound train to come through, which it does in the middle of the night. We can expect to get into Durango early in the morning on the twenty-eighth. It’s possible, if we can get to Tucumcari in good time.”
Heyes laid his hand on her shoulder and gripped it briefly. “Sweetheart, you’ve done a lot of work. This is everything we needed.”
“Not quite. We still have to figure how soon we have to leave for Tucumcari.” Her eyes went to Kid Curry’s face. “It’s a hundred and thirty miles. It’s a little after noon, and that ride is likely to take about eighteen hours, with stops to rest the horses. That means, if we leave here by four, we could catch that train tomorrow morning. At least that’s what I make it.” She looked back at Heyes, aware of how he hated to be left out of the planning. “It’s a hard ride, but I think we can do it. Of course, that’s up to you.”
“I’ve already told him I didn’t think we could leave today,” said Heyes, nodding toward his partner. “But, well, let’s get this telegraph sent to Richard first.”
After the wire was sent, Heyes picked up a message pad and took it along, knowing they had several more messages to draft. The three of them walked back over to the hotel.
Deceptively calm, Kid said, “I’d better go find Chad and tell him what’s up. He’ll need to know before Parmalee leaves his office today.” He had seen the worried look in Heyes’s face as Paula talked about their travel plans, and in spite of his own anxiety, he was amused at the conversation he could see was about to take place, with Heyes attempting to convince his betrothed that she shouldn’t try—or wouldn’t be able—to keep up with them on the mad dash they were about to make. For himself, Kid thought he would rather have her along. She was more experienced in prayer than he was, and he had a feeling they were going to be doing a lot of praying.
Watching his partner leave the hotel after ascertaining that Cooper was not in his room, Heyes turned back to Paula. “I know you have lots of experience making long-distance rides, what with all those trips to Laredo over the years. But this is different. I don’t want to think of you making that long, hard ride tonight, freezing out on the trail with no sleep.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “And what alternative is there? If you intend to leave me behind … what? For Chad to look after? … I wouldn’t be able to catch up to you the entire way. I’d be travelling those seven hundred and forty miles alone, with no escort. I’m telling you right now, Heyes, I shan’t do it. I won’t hold you back—I know how important this is. But I’m not staying behind.”
Exasperated, Heyes got up and paced back and forth. “Don’t argue with me.”
“I don’t wish to do so. But, darling, be reasonable. We don’t really have any choice in the matter. It would be different if I couldn’t ride.”
Reluctantly, he nodded. Once again, she was right.
“I’ve been thinking, while I was sending those messages and waiting for you and Kid to come to the telegraph office. I’d like to send a message to my brother to ask him to meet us in Durango, bringing three of our Friesians, with saddles for them. They’re bigger and heavier than the horses we’re riding now, and I think we’re going to need them if we have to cross a mountain pass into Telluride. The alternative would take another two days, as I recall—going through Dolores and Rico and up the west side of the San Juans. He can stop in Denver and get some supplies—anything we might need, anything they might be short of in Telluride, with half the town down with the grippe.”
“That’s an idea,” said Heyes, his face clearing. If they could make it as far as Durango without difficulty, it would indeed be better to be prepared for the rough mountain riding ahead of them. Especially if they took the Ophir Pass road between Silverton and Telluride. If it was even passable this time of year. There were so many things to consider. He realized some of it would have to be left until they arrived in Durango. And the worst part was still right at the beginning—the long ride to Tucumcari. With an effort, he forced himself to concentrate on what needed to be done. “Yes. Telegraph him, by all means. And I’ve got to wire Captain Parmalee.”
“Here comes Chad, with Kid. Maybe he can advise you about that.” Paula made use of the pen and ink kept in the lobby for the use of hotel guests, and began to write out the wire to her brother on the message pad.
The tall, broad-shouldered Ranger strode across the lobby, concern in his face. “Kid here told me what happened. I know you’ve got to leave pretty quick for Tucumcari. Anything I can do?”
“Thanks. I think there is. We’ve got to let Captain Parmalee know that we’re off the job as of today. I don’t know if he’ll be able to make arrangements to pay us, but we could sure use the money.”
“The captain discussed that possibility with me before I came up here to help you with Miss Hale. He knew you might need funds unexpectedly, and he also knew that the time might come when I might need some more help to finish investigating that land fraud case … in case I got too well known around here, for instance. He wired me some money two weeks ago, about the time the three of you and Miss Hale went down to Tombstone to take care of that job for Mr. McCreedy, and to escort Miss Hale and her father to meet Señor Córdoba, while Curry came back up here. The captain also dispatched two men to relieve us on this job at the same time, and they should be here in a few days. So I can give you that eighty dollars, and I’ll wire the captain and tell him what’s going on.” He looked from one to the other. “But I was thinking of more practical help. Have you thought about when you need to leave to make that ride to Tucumcari?”
“If we’re gonna catch that train leaving tomorrow morning, we’ve got to leave by half-past three this afternoon at the latest. I’d prefer a little earlier,” Heyes replied.
“Then I’ll get that money for you and telegraph Laredo right away. But you could leave a few things here and let me arrange for shipping, if they’re things you can get along without for a couple of weeks. Just give me an address where they should go.”
Paula looked up. “Chad, that’s a splendid idea! I have those extra dresses and hats that I brought to convince Miss Hale that I was a helpless, distracted, fashionable female from the East. I certainly shan’t have any use for them on the way, or likely when we get to Telluride. I suspect I’ll be helping to nurse Miss O’More, or lending a hand at her restaurant, or both. There will be no need for horrid frilly pink things. And their suits and Homburgs can be left here as well. That takes some of the weight off Prudence.”
Treading cautiously, Heyes said, “Dear, we haven’t finished discussing whether you’re going with us or not.”
“She’s going.” Kid’s tone was determined. “I hadn’t thought about her being able to help nurse Lillie, but they’d welcome another female, where it’s just possible they might not let me help until she’s starting to recover. If she … anyway, when she gets better.”
“If you’ll take a word of advice, Heyes,” Chad put in, “Miss Wellington is quite capable of managing that long ride to catch the train, especially with the speed and endurance of that little mare she’s riding. She might even leave your horses struggling to keep up. If I were you, I wouldn’t try to stop her out of concern for the weaker sex.” He saw the outlaw frown. “I’m being blunt with you, but I’ve known her longer than you have.” He tipped his hat to Paula and went up to his room, taking the stairs two at a time.
“Heyes, we need to pack up and decide what’s going on the mule and what can be left here,” his partner reminded him.
“You do that. I’ll be right with you,” responded Heyes, distracted. Kid went up the stairs and he turned back to his betrothed. “Let’s walk back over to the telegraph office. You need to send that wire to your brother.”
She tucked her hand into his arm. “Thank you.”
After a moment, Heyes asked, “Are you mad at me?”
“Mad at you? No! And I was about to ask you the same question!”
“Sure?” Heyes was a trifle anxious. “I was just trying to protect you. It’s not that I think you can’t make the ride.”
“No, I understand. And I don’t mean to always be contrary, truly I don’t.”
Later, after they had deposited the items being left behind with Chad Cooper for shipment, Kid said, “Paula, would you come back to our room for a few minutes?”
When they had shut the door, Kid turned to his partner’s betrothed. “I wanted to ask you to pray with me—with us. I know I gotta pray, and I just can’t think how.”
Heyes had sat down on the edge of his bed, but at this he rose and made as if to leave the room. “You don’t want me here for that. The Lord won’t be listenin’ to anything I have to say.”
“Hannibal, don’t go and leave me here unchaperoned,” Paula reminded him. “And what on earth gives you the idea that the Lord doesn’t listen to your prayers? What about this past March, when Kid broke his leg? And earlier, when you told me about being stranded out in the desert without water?”
“Oh. Well, I …” Heyes sat back down. “You two go ahead.”
Paula led in a brief request for journey mercies for them as they embarked on the long trip, and added a fervent prayer for Lillian’s healing.
Kid joined in, hesitantly, not accustomed to praying aloud. “Lord, You know what’s wrong with Lillie, more than we do. You can heal her. You can … Lord, if she can only be alive when I get there …” His voice shook. “I know You love her, Lord, even more than I do. Help me trust You to take care of her, and help us to get there—in time.”
Paula finished with a quiet closure. “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, we pray as You have taught us:
Our Father, who art in heaven
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come;
thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory,
for ever and ever.
Amen.”[5]
Both men joined in, familiar with that prayer from their days at the Home for Waywards. Kid’s drawn face relaxed. Heyes gave his betrothed a quick hug and kiss before escorting her to her own room.
Page from 1881 Bible showing the Lord's Prayer with wording modified to match that in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer
[1] For the purposes of this story, it has been assumed that there is another killing in Kid Curry’s past—possibly from his late teens or early twenties, which happened when he was trying to protect someone else who didn’t have a gun.
[2] Joe Briggs, q.v. in the second-season episode “The McCreedy Bust: Going, Going, Gone.”
[3] A rail line was not actually through to Tucumcari until several years after this date. The dates were altered slightly for the sake of the story.
[4] D&RG finished the original southward extension as far as it was legally permitted to do, beginning service to Española on the 31st of December 1880. The D&RG could not finish the line, but nothing was stopping another railroad from completing the route to Santa Fe and providing contiguous service. In December of 1880, the Texas, Santa Fe & Northern was incorporated to do just that, declaring the line to be the San Juan Division. By 1882, work started building northward from the AT&SF at Santa Fe to reach the D&RG, a distance of about 38 miles. Despite the amount of grading that the D&RG had already done and abandoned in place in 1880, the TSF&N ran into financial trouble almost immediately. Work essentially stopped for four years and what little completed track was in place sat idle.
[5] Matthew 6:9-13, The Holy Bible, Authorized Version, 1611, as modified for corporate worship in the various editions of the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer.