Hard Luck Money by J.A. Johnstone Page B

for the bounty once the price on their heads has gone up enough to make it profitable. In order to do that they’d have to be working with someone inside the prison. We want to put our hands on whoever that is, as well as the mastermind who’s orchestrating the whole thing.”
    “You don’t have any proof that theory’s even right,” The Kid said.
    “No, we don’t,” Hughes admitted. “But that’s where you come in.”
    The Kid started to get up. “No, that’s where I go out. I think you may be on to something, Captain, I have to admit that, but the plan’s still loco.”
    “It could work,” Hughes said quickly, trying to keep The Kid from leaving. “We can’t put a Ranger in there, because there’s too much of a chance one of the convicts would recognize him. But you’re not a lawman, Mr. Morgan, and you haven’t spent that much time in Texas. You could get away with it.”
    “I’m not an outlaw, either,” The Kid said.
    “No, but Waco Keene is.”
    Taken by surprise, The Kid eased back down into his chair. “Who in blazes is Waco Keene?”
    “You are, if you agree to help us,” Hughes said.
    “He ain’t real,” Culhane added. “Or rather, he was, but he’s dead now. Deputy sheriff up in Comanche County killed him the other day when he tried to rob a store in Gustine. Thing is, not many folks know about it yet.”
    “So he was a bank robber,” The Kid said.
    Hughes said, “Not exactly. He and three other men stopped and held up half a dozen trains in various places around Central Texas. The other members of the gang were killed last week when a posse caught up to them. Keene got away, but he had been dodging the law on his own ever since and was pretty desperate. He tried to shoot it out with that deputy sheriff and lost.”
    “I suppose I happen to look like him?” The Kid asked.
    “No, not at all,” the captain said. “He was a scrawny little fella with dark hair, not a big strapping hombre like you. But that doesn’t matter. As far as anybody inside the walls at Huntsville would know, you’d be him. Nobody he ever rode with is locked up there.”
    “As far as you know.”
    Hughes shrugged and nodded.
    “As far as we know. The plan certainly wouldn’t be without its risks.”
    “And I’d be the one running them. No thanks.”
    The Kid put his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself to his feet.
    “Mr. Morgan, I can’t order you to do this—”
    “You certainly can’t.”
    “But from what I know of you, you’re the best man for the job. You stand a better chance than anyone else of getting on the inside of this gang and helping us bring them to justice.”
    “I’m sorry, Captain,” The Kid said. “I mean that. But I have no interest in going back to prison, for any reason.”
    Culhane started to say something, but Hughes lifted a hand to stop him. “It’s all right, Sergeant. Mr. Morgan certainly has every right to refuse.” Hughes stood and extended his hand across the desk. “Thank you for coming in and hearing me out.”
    The Kid shook hands with him. “I hope you find somebody who works out better than I did.”
    Culhane followed The Kid out of the office, and as soon as the door was closed behind them, he said, “Dang it, Kid—”
    “There’s no point in arguing with me, Asa. My mind’s made up.” The Kid paused. “You can satisfy my curiosity about something, though.”
    “I ain’t sure I want to,” Culhane said with a frown. “But what is it?”
    “If you and the captain are right about there being some sort of mastermind behind this, it’s a pretty complicated scheme. A lot of things would have to go just right to make it work. But if they did, it would be really hard to detect. What made you suspicious about it in the first place? It’s not the sort of thing that would jump out at anybody.”
    “Are you sayin’ we’re too dumb to have figured it out our own selves?”
    “No, I’m saying you wouldn’t have had any reason to