A Friend in Need

By Nell McKeon

Denver was cold for this time of year and for a man out of a job it felt even colder.The dark-haired man pulled his charcoal gray suit jacket closed and gave a little shiver. He stood on the corner of a well-traveled street of fairly new brick buildings in the business district of the city, thinking. His dark eyes, that were set too close together, flicked a glance down the side street then along the main avenue. No one he knew was in sight. He advanced a few steps down the boardwalk, hesitated, then retreated to his original position on the corner, indecision flittered across his snake-like face.

The man sighed, and came to terms with his reluctant decision - the best prospects for a warm and well fed winter lay half-way down the boardwalk. He straightened his tie, polished the toe of his left boot on the back on his right pant leg and reset his hat on his head. Straightening up, the gentleman, in the citified clothes and the double black gun belt, started once more down the boardwalk. With each click of his boot heels on the boards he felt his humiliation increase. He maintained his resolve until he reached the storefront before his destination. The man stopped and slouched in the closest empty recessed doorway.

He peered out, looked left and right then quickly drew back. A couple of deep breaths and his bravado returned. Besides, what choice did he really have? A small smile twitched his lips and the thin mustache turned upwards when he thought, as the man inside his destination would say - a man's gotta eat. The citified gentleman strode out of the neighboring doorway and advanced to the next business. He read the big gold lettering across the large front window and mouthed the words to himself, "The Heyes and Curry Agency, Investigations and Security, Best in the West." He peered between the letters to try to see if anyone was inside even though the sign on the door indicated the business was open.  With his better than average vision he was able to make out a dark blond man standing along the side of the office, towards the back of the room.  His right hand reached out and grasped the brass door handle.

Kid Curry was silently cursing paperwork. He fought the urge to shoot the file cabinets or kick the piles of green and blue file folders stacked around his feet. He reminded himself that he was the one who insisted they didn't need a secretary. If  Heyes had had his way, a pretty and efficient young lady would be sitting at a reception desk in their waiting area. Instead, Kid played part-time secretary and pretended, at least when Heyes was around, that he was happy to file, run errands to the bank and post office, and bang on the new-fangled typewriter with his trigger finger and left index finger to transcribe Heyes' indecipherable handwriting and his own scrawl into neat legible documents creating more pieces of paper to be filed. It was getting to the point when he might have to capitulate, admit that Heyes was correct and eat crow. Curry bent and picked up a stack of green folders as he started to sing the alphabet song, "A, B, C, D, E, F, G..."

A bell jingled as the main office door opened. Kid dropped the folders on top of the files in the open cabinet drawer. He turned and strode out of the large main office into the small but comfortable waiting area.

"Harry? Harry Briscoe? It's good to see you, Harry. We don't usually see you in the middle of the day and definitely not in the office. What if someone from the B. D. I. spotted you walking in?" Kid greeted his old acquaintance with a big smile.

"Hiya, Heyes," Harry returned the greeting.

"It's Curry."

"I know, just checking," Harry said with a genuine smile as he stuck out his right hand to shake hands with the ex-outlaw-turned-detective.

"Come on in and tell me what I can do for you," Kid directed as he ushered the Bannerman man into the inner office.

"Where's Heyes?" Harry inquired, looking around.

"Heyes went out to Silverton to meet with some mine owners regarding their payroll security requirements. Right now he's probably being wined and dined before the conveniently scheduled poker game." Kid flopped into his desk chair and indicated that Harry should take a seat.

"He left you here, by yourself?" Harry looked at Heyes' neat desk with minimal clutter. He looked at the chair next to Kid that had papers falling onto it from a large messy pile of documents perched on the edge of Kid's desk. He chose to sit across from Curry and pulled out Heyes' comfortable wood and leather chair. He settled himself and tried to appear as professional as he could.

"I'm a big boy. I can stay all by myself now. Why?" Kid narrowed his eyes across the desks at Harry.

"Don't mean nothin' by it, Kid. Just wanted to talk to the both of you. That's all," Harry tried to not to rile Curry's temper.

Kid grinned back at Harry, "No offense taken. I know you didn't mean anything by it but if you want both of us, you'll have to wait to the end of next week. I'm cleanin' up some office work." Curry's eyes swiftly swept around, touching on the piles still on the floor, the piles in the open file drawer and the piles sitting on his desk and he shuddered slightly. "Then I'm taking the afternoon train tomorrow to meet Heyes in order to scout out the mine location, the routes taken and the surrounding area. We won't be back until probably Thursday."

Kid could see the disappointment in Harry's eyes although his facial expression remained neutral. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Harry cleared his throat; this was harder than he thought. He remembered that he called Kid Curry a friend, at least in private, where no one from the B. D. I. might hear. In a rush of bitterness, he was reminded it didn't mattered what the B. D. I. thought. He no longer was a Bannerman man.

"Well, yes...I mean I was thinkin'...maybe you could...you see I was..." Harry studied the top of the desk and coughed.

"Come on Harry, out with it" Kid leaned over the desk and offered a full cup of luke-warm coffee that he hadn't touched yet.

Harry shook his head but smiled at the offer. He looked up a saw an open friendly face. The blue eyes held genuine interest. Harry told himself that Kid Curry, when he wasn't being the "Fastest Gun in the West", and if you were on his good side, was an amiable fellow. He knew that to be true and with sudden insight realized things might actually being going his way. Heyes was much more suspicious. Heyes was much less likely to rush help; he wanted to study all the angles. Now might be the best time to ask.

"Well, you see, Mr. Bannerman and I didn't see eye to eye on a few things and I... I no longer work for Bannerman Detectives, Incorporated. I was wondering if you and Heyes needed any help. The word is your agency is making inroads in the business. You and Heyes are getting quite a good reputation. You got the B. D. I. watchin', waitin' for you to make a mistake or go back to your old ways. I told them that you won't, that they should just get used to you as the competition and... well, they didn't like that." Harry took off his hat and laid it on Heyes' desk. He rubbed his jaw and waited to Curry's reaction.

Kid raised a sandy eyebrow, "They fired you again, huh?"

Briscoe nodded.

"What's the real reason Harry? Incompetence?" Kid asked compassionately.

"I swear, Kid, not this time. I really did say that you fellas and your agency were here to stay. They wanted me to sabotage your business and I refused. They fired me and that's the God's honest truth." Harry sat up straight, stuck his chin out defiantly and looked Curry straight in the face.

Kid believed him; Briscoe was an awful liar. "So, you would like to work for us now, is that what you're asking?"

Harry nodded affirmatively.

"Just checking, but do you think you can take orders from us? Do things our way?" Kid asked somewhat incredulously.

"Your way is my way. If you give me a job, I'll do things any way you like, as long as it is legal. I've reformed, you'll remember," Harry answered sincerely.

Curry leaned back in his chair and studied the man sitting in his partner's spot. Harry wasn't totally incompetent. He certainly wasn't any more incompetent than half the Devil's Hole Gang. He did help with the Tapscott and Hadleyburg affair. He, also, much to Kid's chagrin, kept out of jail and wound up sitting in a nice train car while they were stuck in the desert. And Briscoe did make good on his promise to send horses, food and water.

Harry Briscoe sat quietly in Hannibal Heyes' chair and waited patiently for Kid Curry to make a decision. He tried to read the answer in Kid's face to no avail. Curry was using his poker face of non-expression.

Kid Curry remembered that he personally owed Harry Briscoe thanks. Nickersen had shown him the affidavit of character, which Briscoe wrote, that was submitted as part of his pardon application. He shared Heyes' and Nickersen's opinion that next to Lom Trevor's affidavit of character, Briscoe's was the best written and very persuasive. Curry let a hint of a smile escape as he thought in spite of everything, and all the reasons why he shouldn't, that nonetheless, he really did like Harry Briscoe. He was tempted, very tempted to hire Harry, if for no other reason than to see Heyes' face when he told him. There was something to be said for the amusement factor, as well, of being Briscoe's boss.

Harry noted the ghost of a smile and tried to control the hope that grew in his chest. He liked Heyes and Curry and they were his only true friends; he was surprised to find that he was no longer ashamed to admit that fact.

The pile of documents that had sat precariously on Kid's desk fluttered to the floor and spilled onto the chair when Curry's chair knocked into the desk as he stood up. An idea formed in Kid's mind. Harry excelled at paperwork. Kid hated paper work. They needed someone to help with the office duties, freeing them for the "real" work. And Harry could be trusted to competently perform mundane investigative duties; O'Reilly, when he started, could partner with him.

"Harry, how would you like to be office manager of "The Heyes and Curry Agency"? Can you type?"

For no other reason than I have a fondness for the character of Harry Briscoe and the way J. D.Cannon played him.