“So that’s it,” sighed Mike. “Yuh figure I owe yuh something. Now I do recall you took on leading that posse tuh beat uh horse stealin’ rap. Yuh swore you were gonna go straight after that.”
“Well, I mighta went straight except they snookered me on that deal. The whole thing was a set up from the get go. Douglas got me off the first charge all right, as promised, but before I could draw a breath, they had me charged with stealin’ a second horse. I could see right off I was going ta jail before they ran outah horses. The judge was decent about it, I suppose. He give me two years in the Wyoming State Prison. He coulda give me ten.”
“The laws got a lot ov ways tuh get yuh and they always do,” said Mike reflectively.
“Let’s get outah here,” said Sundance irritably. “I told ya this wouldn’t get us anyplace. We got to get back to South America before some Pinkerton spots us.”
He got up to leave but Mike motioned for him to sit back down.
“You guys got tuh stay fer dinner,” Mike said firmly.
“Why would you want us eatin’ with your family?” asked Sundance.
“It would offend Mary’s sense of Western hospitality if yuh didn’t stay,” said Mike smiling. “Besides, I dun’t want yuh going out my front door til after dark. I’m a married man now. I got tuh be more careful with my job.”
Sundance looked at Butch, and he nodded affirmatively. Put that way, it seemed to make sense. They spent an hour or so reminiscing about the irony of the posse made up of outlaws that had been assembled ten years ago to bring in a man who turned out to be innocent.
The smell of a platter full of fried chicken stopped the conversation and they all dug in. Mary brought mounds of mashed potatoes and bowls full of peas and corn. Ian refused to eat any of his vegetables, and Butch cheered him for his decision.
“Are you really cowboys?” asked Ian after he had warmed up to his two guests.
“You bet, little pardner,” replied Butch.
“Then where are your cowboy hats? Uncle Jack has a cowboy hat.”
Butch winked and said, “We’re sorta in disguise.”
“What ever happened to Elzy?” Mary inquired as she balanced her two-year-old daughter on her lap. “He was such a polite and cheerful man.”
“Married, shot and jailed - in that order,” said Butch.
“He’s in jail?” she asked, surprised.
“He’s in Santa Fe serving a life sentence for killing a sheriff,” said Sundance.
“I don’t think Elzy killed him,” said Butch. “There was a bunch of them throwing lead around and Elzy caught some of it. That made him pretty easy to capture. We told him not to hook up with Sam Ketchum’s outfit. The man don’t plan ahead. “
“Sam’s as useless as a milk bucket sittin’ under a bull,” concluded Sundance.
Butch saw the eyes of six-year-old Ian grow wide with excitement at the talk of outlaws and the wild west.
“Now if I was runnin’ that outfit,” said Butch, “there would have been fresh mounts stationed along the getaway route. That posse would have never caught us.”
“Bang. Bang,” shouted Ian as he pulled out two make-believe guns and began firing at Butch. Butch hunkered down and acted like he was dodging the bullets.
“Butch, it’s dark out,” said Sundance, slightly embarrassed at his antics. “We’re wearin’ out our welcome here.”
They rose and went to the foyer with the entire McGhan family trailing behind them. Butch and Sundance put their suit coats and hats back on and shook hands with Mike. They smiled and waved gratefully as they descended the porch steps. Mike did not know what they were grateful for since he had not given them one answer they wanted to hear. They were two relics of a by-gone era slowly walking down his sidewalk and out of the light.
“Do you guys need any money?” Mike asked, suddenly wanting to do something for them.
“Nah, we’re fine,” shouted back Sundance. “We’re owed some money. We’re gonna pick it up before we leave town.”
EPILOGUE
On July 3, 1902, the Rock Island, Omaha and Denver Express was robbed near Dupont, Illinois, a small town on the outskirts of Chicago. Charles Nessler was attempting to hitch a free ride home in the front of the baggage car when he was surprised by two men in masks who told him they were there to rob the train. The masked men forced him to take part in the robbery by having him climb over the tender car and tell the engineer to put on the brakes. When the train had come to a stop, the outlaws threatened to blow up the express car with dynamite unless the messengers opened it. One of the messengers slipped while opening the door and was shot in the leg when one of the train robbers thought he was trying to escape.
The express car carried two safes. The outlaws opened the smaller one and removed several hundred dollars in cash. They were about to blow open the larger safe when curious passengers began flocking to the front of the train. The two decided to flee in a wagon they had left waiting by the tracks. Authorities believed it to be the work of professionals.
A local farmer, the engineer and Charles Nessler identified the outlaws from police photographs as George Parker and Harry Longbaugh, alias Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. On July 6, the Chicago Tribune published a detailed account of the daring robbery.
The Cassidy Posse Page 26
