Bait and Switch

By InsideOutlaw

“We really gonna do this, Heyes?” Kid Curry’s question was punctuated by the slamming of the front door of the leaders’ cabin. “Seems like a bad time of the year to be plannin’ a job.” A swirl of snowflakes settled around the blond outlaw and fluttered to the floor as he frowned at his partner. 

“Hmm?” murmured Heyes, studying a map stretched out between several canned goods across the surface of the scarred kitchen table.

“I said…oh, never mind.  I’m wastin’ my breath.” Stomping caked snow from his boots, the Kid swept off his hat and removed his sheepskin coat. He hung both from one of the railroad ties pounded into the wall of the cabin and serving as coat hangers.  Crossing to the woodstove and picking up the coffee pot with a thick potholder, he shook it.  Satisfied there was coffee to be had, he poured a generous mugful then walked to the desk and topped up the mug Heyes was using.

“Thanks.” Heyes picked up his mug and sipped, studying the map.  “I think it might just be the perfect time, Kid.  Every rancher in this part of Wyoming has sent or is sending his fat cattle to market. No one wants to risk losing their profits to a bad winter.” He tapped on the map. “I heard the Cheyenne stockyards are so full right now the Stockgrowers Association is renting out pastures for the overflow and shipping them out as fast as they can.”

“So you’re plannin’ on hittin’ the stockyard offices? They’re right next to the railyard. Not gonna be too easy gettin’ in and out. Wouldn’t it be easier to just hit the bank?  That’s where the money’s kept.”

“Kid, you’re talking Cheyenne. There’s practically a deputy on every street corner keeping an eye on that bank.  Only ones keeping an eye on a stockyard full of beeves and manure are the cowboys and they’re usually lousy shots.  Railroad men are, too.” 

“You better hope they are. I still don’t like it, Heyes.  We’d be stealin’ from folks who mostly work real hard to scrape together a livin’.  That ain’t what we do.”

“But…” Heyes paused, a twinkle in his eyes.

The Kid slammed down his coffee mug. “I hate it when you say ‘but’ like that.”

“Say something happened at the stockyards that just might make those deputies take their eyes off that bank.”

“So robbin’ the stockyards is a distraction?  You plan on hittin’ the bank, too?”

“Yep.”

The Kid was skeptical but he knew well enough not to scoff at Heyes.  It never ended on a positive note and, too often, his partner’s crazy schemes paid off. Instead, he too looked at the map and said, “Cheyenne’s a long way from the Hole and it’s mostly prairie between. Ain’t much cover so we’ll be exposed for miles. Lots can go wrong if we don’t get clean away.”

“Thought of that, too,” said Heyes smugly, a big grin carving dimples on his face.  Quickly, he laid out his plan and, by the time he was finished, the Kid was smiling, too.

*****

“This ain’t what I signed up for.  Hangin’ around a bunch of stinkin’ cows in a stinkin’ stockyard,” grumbled Wheat as he leaned on the top rail of a pen packed with nervous animals.  A train, stopped on the tracks next to the stockyard, spewed a cloud of coal smoke further spooking the cows.

“Heyes has a plan,” replied Kyle, rubbing his bare hands together as his breath vaporized in front of him. 

“If he does, he sure didn’t share much of it with us.”

“Seemed to me he did. You just don’t like none of his plans.”

“Then how come we don’t know what those two are gonna be doin’ while we take all the risks?”

“Heyes said that part was ‘need to know’ and I guess we don’t need to know.”  Kyle glanced around the stockyards.  A small herd was being driven down one of the lanes between pens by two mounted cowboys and the alarmed cries of the cows floated to his ears. They watched as the beasts were driven onto a waiting railcar, protesting loudly.  The cowboys trotted away as the railman slid the doors shut.

Wheat scowled down at his shorter partner. “Yeah, did it ever cross your mind that Heyes might just be expectin’ us to get caught and he don’t want us singin’ to the law if we do?  Look at this setup. It’s a maze out here.”

Kyle’s eyes widened as he considered Wheat’s words but narrowed almost immediately. He spit out a stream of tobacco. “Yer chicken, ain’t you?  Yer afraid.”

“No, I ain’t! I’m just smart enough to see what you’re too dumb to see.”

Now it was Kyle’s turn to scowl.  “I’m smart enough to know Heyes has a plan and I’m smart enough to shut my mouth and do my part. He ain’t ever steered me wrong unlike some folks.” The small outlaw heard the noon church bell tolling from a distance.  “Time to git to work.”  He peeled away from Wheat and strolled to the larger pen nearby.

Wheat watched him go before he walked towards the stockyard office, grumbling the whole way.  He was still cursing under his breath as he reached for the office door only to have it open and a burly rancher spill out. 

“G’morning,” said the man as he shouldered past the outlaw.

“What’s so good about it?” snapped Wheat.

The man turned back and stared hard.  “You wake up on a barbed wire fence or something?”

Realizing he’d just given the man a reason to remember him, Wheat pasted an insincere smile on his face. “Sorry, had a bad night.”

The man gave a curt nod and continued on his way.

Entering the office, Wheat stood behind a rancher who was arguing the value of his herd with the office manager.  Another clerk sat at a desk between the windows with his head bowed over a stack of papers.  Only three people.  Wheat liked those odds.  Turning casually to look out the window, he watched as Kyle slipped the latch to the pen full of bulls and then crossed the lane to open the opposite pen full of cows.  Without opening the gates, he worked his way down the lane unlatching each gate until he reached the last pen. 

Kyle faked a dramatic fall with his arm pinwheeling as he yelled out.  The animals near him spooked and violently milled around their pen until one of them bumped into the gate and it swung open. Hundreds of cows poured out creating utter chaos and triggering the rest of penned animals to panic and escape. Cowboys came running from all corners of the stockyard, yelling desperately for help.

Seeing Kyle get to his feet and take off unnoticed, Wheat briefly smiled. Heyes’ plan was beginning to make sense to him.  It was gonna take all day to round up those critters. He pulled his gun and waved it at the other men in the office.  “Robbery, they’re stealin’ the beef!  C’mon, we gotta stop them.”  The other men pulled their own weapons and chased Wheat out the door.  As the big outlaw began shooting his pistol and yelling at non-existent thieves, two of the three men followed suit.  The bookish clerk ran east towards Main Street and the sheriff’s office.

The cowboys who’d been attempting to round up the cattle thought they were being shot at and disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared. The cows went wild.

*****

At the sound of the gunshots, the Kid smiled and straightened up from the alley wall he’d been leaning against. Preacher nodded to him from across the street. Around the corner, Heyes stood up from a bench in front of the bank as the screaming stockyard clerk ran up the street.  Other men spilled out of various business, including the bank, and started running or riding towards the yard.  Heyes began adding his voice to the voice of the clerk and yelling “Robbery!! They’re robbing the stockyards!!” The door to the sheriff’s office opened and the sheriff stepped out.  His deputies abandoned their posts and gathered in the street.  The sheriff growled something at his men, gesturing towards the stockyard and waving his men to action.  The lawmen, along with most of the townsfolk hurried towards the stockyard.  As soon as they were out of sight, Heyes turned and grinned at his partner who was walking past the bank, glancing through the front window. “Time to get to work.”

Preacher watched from his post.

“Let’s make it fast. I counted one teller, two customers- man and woman, and the manager.  Nothin’s changed since you cased the joint. Big solid oak counter. Couple of desks for cover. No back room. Safe’s along the back wall.”

“Let’s hope no one’s a hero.”

Curry shook his head. “No one’s gonna get heroic when you pull out the dynamite. Just make sure you don’t overdo it this time.”

“You spoil all my fun.” Heyes was grinning happily.

*****

Three exhausted horses slowed to cross the icy river, picking their way carefully to the other side.  Heyes smiled at his partner.  “Well, that went well.”

The Kid watched his gelding put his hoof down carefully as he heaved against the current. “Yeah, let’s hope the rest does.”

“Didn’t even have to blow the safe. The manager was happy to open it for us.” Heyes’ horse climbed up the bank, his sides heaving with effort.

Preacher followed behind his two leaders.  “I hope Kyle and Wheat got away clean.”

Heyes looked back. “Far as anyone knows, they were chasing off robbers. If they didn’t screw up the plan, they should’ve been able to stroll out of town.”

“That’s a big if,” remarked the Kid.

“We’ll know soon enough.  There’s the homestead.”  Heyes pointed to a dilapidated ranch house tucked between several dead cottonwoods.  Four horses were tied to the weathered railing of an old corral. They whinnied at the newcomers.  Hank emerged from the house and waved. 

The outlaws rode up, jumped off their horses, removed the saddles and bridles, and turned the animals loose.  Saddles were cinched and bridles slipped into place on the fresh horses before the outlaws remounted. Hank had already tacked up and sat on the fourth.

The Kid and Preacher took off together but Heyes paused. “Wheat and Kyle get off all right?”

Hank nodded. “Yeah. They came through about forty minutes ago. No one’s after them and they’re setting a false trail just like you told them.  You being followed?”

“Yep, but not for long.  Let’s ride!” Yelling at their fresh mounts, Hank and Heyes swiftly caught up to their friends.  The abandoned horses followed until, one by one, they lost interest in trying to keep up. They put their heads down and began grazing the frozen grasses.   

*****

By late afternoon, the outlaws approached a cave in a sandstone formation, the entrance was hidden by brush.  The Kid called out and, a few minutes later, Lobo emerged mounted on a gray mare and leading four fresh horses.  This time everyone was more relaxed having put considerable distance between them and the posse who were riding tired horses. Saddles were switched and horses were turned loose.

“I sure hope you stole enough to pay for these nags, Heyes,” jested Lobo.

“It’s enough and then some,” cut in the Kid.

“If we stop jawing and start riding, we’ll make the Hole before dark.”  Heyes swung his horse around and picked up a comfortable jog they could keep up for hours.  The Kid slid in behind him with the rest of the gang straggling after them.  Everyone was chatting amiably.  Jokes and laughter were exchanged. 

The Kid turned to his partner, “I have to hand it to you, Heyes.  It was a good plan.  That posse’s gotta be givin’ up about now.”

“I hope so.  I’d hate for them to be killing their horses because of me.”

Lobo snorted, “Yeah, the ones you turned loose weren’t gonna be much use to them for a few days.”

“How’d you come up with this plan?” asked Preacher who’d ridden up with the others and had been listening.

“Heard it from an old trapper the Kid and I met playing poker up in Sheridan.  He told us the Shoshone and Lakota used to hunt buffalo using relays of horses to chase the herd.  Tired them down and made it easy to pick them off when they had no fight left.”

“Huh,” said Hank.  “Kinda sad if you ask me.”

“Yeah, but not when you’re picking off a posse,” chuckled Lobo.

“Amen to that,” said Preacher solemnly, “Amen and pass the loot.”

 

Author’s Note: Indian relay races are a popular and thrilling event.  Here is a link to Horse Nations Indian Relay Council site for more information and a list of next year’s events.

https://horsenationsindianrelay.com/