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We open on a vast field of grass and hear the first notes of the theme.  We slowly look up to distant hills as the Narrator begins.  During his introduction, we see various shots of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry intercut with scenes of explosions and robberies.
Narrator:  "Into the west came many men.  Some were good men, and some were bad men.  Some were good men with some bad in them, and some were bad men with some good in them.  This is the story of two pretty good bad men--Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry.  Together, these gentlemen substantially altered the course of America's frontier.  They did a lot to change railroad schedules, too.  And in all the trains and banks they robbed, they never shot anyone.  This made our two latter-day Robin Hoods very popular--with everyone but the railroads and banks.  Because, unlike Robin Hood, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry robbed from the rich, and kept the money for themselves.  It was a good life, but times were changing--safes were getting better, the posses were getting bigger, sheriffs were getting smarter.  And modern communications made it only a matter of time until they would be captured, and maybe even killed."

A train has been stopped by a gang of men on horseback. Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, on one side of the engine, point their revolvers at the engineer.
Heyes:  "Stand and deliver!"
The engineer pokes his head out of the cab.
Engineer:  "Who says so?"
Heyes gives the credit to the man who sits beside him.  He points with his six-gun.
Heyes:  "Kid Curry."
Curry points right back at Heyes with his six-gun.
Curry:  "Hannibal Heyes.""
The engineer turns and goes to the other side of the cab, where he finds Wheat Carlson and Kyle Murtry, also pointing guns.  He puts up his hands.

Wheat is using his shotgun to herd the passengers off the train.
Wheat:  "All right, everybody out.  Muy pronto.  Let's go.  Move it."
Heyes and Curry reach the express car door and peer inside.  A bundle of dynamite is hanging on the door.
Heyes:  "How you boys comin' with that safe?"
Kyle:  As he lights the fuse, "She's gonna blow sky-high!"
Bandits come sailing out of the doors as if shot from cannons.  One of them is Kyle, a smallish, lumpish man with a face full of larceny and missing teeth.  Everyone is running, jumping, and dragging horses to cover in a cloud of dust and a mad melee of arms, legs, and bulging eyes.
Curry:  Yells, "Hit the dirt, folks!"
Heyes:  "Look out!"
And the ladies and gentlemen from the train need no further invitation.  Heyes and Curry take refuge behind some rocks and a big fallen tree with Kyle and a Little Old Lady.
Little Old Lady:  "I'm Birdie Pickett.  I'm so..."
Curry pulls her down to the ground.
Heyes:  To Kyle, "How much dynamite did you use, Kyle?"
Kyle:  "Every last stick of it!"
Heyes:  "For one little old safe!?"
Kyle:  "This ain't no little old safe!  This is a Brooker Two-oh-two!"
They all look expectantly toward the express car.  The express car sits on the track like an unexploded bomb.  In the express car a long fuse is smoking and sputtering across the floor toward the bundle of dynamite which is fixed to the squat, squarish, sullen-looking safe.  Outlaws, passengers and trainmen alike are huddled back of rocks and trees in a great, ragged circle, staring in fascination at the express car doors--out of which a thin line of white smoke is curling and drifting.  Over this, the first title is superimposed.  Other titles follow.  But that's less exciting than it sounds, because nothing has happened yet.  We see a series of closeups of various faces anticipating a terrible explosion: eyes squinted, teeth clenched, shoulders hunched up.  But gradually these looks of tension are giving way to bewilderment.  Why doesn't it blow?  The express car sits there silently.  Inside the express car the fuse burns right up to the bundle of dynamite and even into it a bit before it fizzles out.
Little Old Lady:  "What's the delay?"
Heyes:  "Why, I'm sure I don't know, ma'am."  To Kyle, "Better go check your fuse, Kyle."
Scared as a kid whose giant firecracker has pooped out under a tomato can:
Kyle:  "I ain't goin in there!!"
Heyes appeals to Curry.
Heyes:  "Listen, when the leader of the gang tells him something--don't he have to do it?"
Curry:  "Yeah, that's my understandin'."
Kyle:  "But, what makes you such a great leader, Heyes, is that you never tell no man to do a thing you wouldn't do yourself."
Heyes considers that unhappily and looks at Curry again.
Heyes:  "You wanna be leader?"
Curry gives the job back to Heyes with a gallant gesture.
Curry:  "After you."
Heyes climbs over the tree and rocks and starts warily toward the express car.  Curry follows.  Heyes reaches the car and cautiously peeks in around the edge of the door.  He climbs into the car, takes the dynamite from the safe, and examines it.  He tosses it to Curry, who has just reached the door of the car.  Wheat also comes up.
Heyes:  "Kyle got it wet."
Wheat:  "Well, now, whose fault is that?  I warned you not to ford that river, didn't I?  Huh?  Oh, no...no, you an' your shortcuts."
Heyes:  "Don't get proddy, Wheat."
Kyle walks up to the door.
Kyle:  "Hey, folks're gettin' restless.  They're startin' to mutter."
Curry:  "Mutter what?"
Kyle:  "Oh, like...maybe you two don't know what you're doin'."  Wheat snorts.  "Like if you can't even blow up a safe, maybe you ought to get in some other line of work."
Curry:  "That kind of talk could ruin us."
Wheat:  "Well, I happen to agree with 'em."
Curry:  Gives him a warning look.  "Wheat..."
Wheat:  "Wasn't no offense meant, Kid."
Curry:  "None taken, Wheat."
Heyes has his ear against the safe, and is fiddling with the combination.
Curry:  "Now, I wanna remind you boys that we don't exactly have a lot of time, so if you'll just let Heyes here have a few quiet minutes to work..."
Wheat:  "Oh, sure, sure.  C'mon, Kyle."
Kyle and Wheat leave.  Curry watches Heyes work for a moment.  The Little Old Lady walks up and stands next to him.
Little Old Lady:  Coughs.  "I suppose you boys are wondering what a Little Old Lady from Boston is doing way out here in the wild west."
Heyes, his powers of concentration obviously disturbed, gives Curry and the Little Old Lady a dirty look.
Curry:  "Ma'am... I wonder if you could kind of keep your voice down.  My partner has to hear the tumblers..."
Little Old Lady:  "Tumblers?  Oh, I know.  But if you don't mind an opinion, I don't think that you and your friend are cut out for this sort of thing."
Curry:  A bit defensively, "Well, now, wait a minute, ma'am--now, this ain't been our best day..."
Little Old Lady:  "I'm sure.  But I do think that you ought to read this."
She has produced a sort of handbill from her reticule and is offering it up to Curry.  He regards it suspiciously.
Curry:  "What's this?  Some kinda religious tract?"
Little Old Lady:  "Well, it may be the answer to all of your problems, my dear.  Now, you just take it, and read it when you find the time."
Curry decides to accept it rather than prolong the discussion.
Curry:  "Yes, ma'am."  He pockets the paper and tips his hat.  "Thank you, ma'am."
Little Old Lady:  "And now you had better get back to work, because I see your friends are frowning."
She turns and goes.  Curry looks over at Heyes.  Heyes gives the dial a frustrated spin.  Wheat and Kyle have returned.
Heyes:  "It's no use.  This safe ain't human.  It'll take me two hours to get into it."
Wheat:  "All right, then--let's make tracks!  This train's due into Columbine right now.  Posse'll be leavin' outta Columbine ten minutes from now."
Curry:  "Lotta truth in that."
Heyes:  "Yeah... But there's fifty thousand dollars in this safe.  We ain't leaving it behind."
Wheat:  "Well, what are you suggestin' we do with it?"
Heyes:  Makes a decision.  "We're takin' it with us."

Heyes and Curry pull the safe from the car with ropes tied to their saddles.  The safe comes leaping off the train and begins jouncing and bouncing along behind the outlaws, moving at a slow clip but gouging a deep trail in the ground it covers.  Heyes and Curry ride side by side, dragging their fortune behind them.
Wheat and Kyle, on their horses, look down at the gouges in the trail.
Wheat:  "When I said let's make tracks, that ain't exactly what I had in mind.  That posse's gonna be real grateful to Heyes, ain't they?"
Kyle:  Goes along with whoever he's with, "How'd you do it, Wheat?"
Wheat:  "Smarter."
Kyle:  "But how?"
Wheat doesn't really have an answer.  But:
Wheat:  "That's for me t'know an' you t'find out--when I'm the leader of this gang!"

The gang rides along a road, the safe bouncing and battering and biting into the ground, kicking up a gigantic cloud of dust in its wake.  Our party is in the foothills of a mountain range.  The voices drift to us from this great distance:
Curry:  "Heyes, why are we heading up towards the mountains?"
Heyes:  "So we can drop the safe off the big one."

We see the safe as--free of ropes and all confinement--it comes sailing off a mountain top into the bright blue sky.  The safe drops out of the bottom of the frame.  But it's still got a long way to fall.  The safe goes hurtling down the sheer mountainside, plunging toward the valley floor--finally disappearing into a bed of vegetation.
Heyes looks over the lip of the cliff and smiles.
Heyes:  "If that don't bust 'er wide open nothin' will."
Curry:  "I hope you're right, Heyes.  'Cause the way I figure it, we got the short end of an hour left."

A magnificent classical posse streaks across a meadow.  Men who know they have an important mission--and an edge.

We see a lush field of vegetation through which eight men wade, in a rustic ballet, waving their arms to and fro, probing the tall grass.  Apparently someone has lost something and these good natured men are all patiently trying to find it.
Heyes:  "It's got to be someplace.  Keep lookin', fellas.  I mean, you know it's got to be here.  I mean...  We'll find her.  Don't worry.  I mean, we pushed her from up there, she's got to be down here.  Right?"
Wheat:  "The way I figure it, Heyes, you owe me 'n the boys 'bout fifty thousand dollars."
Curry:  "Now, we ain't got no time for talkin', Wheat.  We only got time for lookin'.  Understand?"
Kyle:  Excitedly, "Yahoo!  Here she is, boys!  Here she is!"
Heyes:  "What...  Is she open?"
Kyle:  "Nope--she's buried."
The gang gathers around the safe, deep in the mud.
Wheat:  Mockingly, "Sure fire, boys...  Can't miss, boys...  If this don't work, nothin' will, boys."
Lobo:  "Now, Wheat, you said you had an idea better'n Heyes.  I figure me and the boys are ready to back you up."
Men:  "That's right!  You bet."
All eyes go to Wheat.  He looks at Heyes, triumphantly.
Wheat:  "All right, men.  Now, the first step is to... pick up that safe."
Kyle:  "Good idee!"
Men:  "Right!  Pick up the safe."
Curry looks at Heyes, who has an unhappy expression on his face.
Curry:  "Well, don't let it eat at ya, Heyes.  Maybe he don't have no second step."

The posse streaks across the rolling terrain, still with but one goal in mind--the destruction of the Heyes Gang.

With much struggling and gasping, the men bring the safe up to the edge of a cliff.
Heyes:  "Wheat, may I remind you that we that ain't got too much time.  We already pushed this Two-oh-two off a mountain, an' didn't so much as scratch 'er paint."
Wheat:  "Heyes, listen.  It's all in the way you handle things.  Now, you dropped her into mud, I'm fixin' to aim her onto rocks--mean, hard, pointed rocks.  She'll come apart like a two bit barrel."
Heyes:  Pointing down, "Wheat, may I point out that..."
Wheat:  "Just...  just...  I'm runnin' things now, all right?  All right, boys, let 'er go."
The gang pushes the safe over the edge.  Down she goes.  The safe tumbles, rolls, bounces brutally over the jagged rocks and plunges downward until some yards from the bottom she strikes a protruding rock formation which drives her off course.  The safe bounces vigorously across a last strip of land, finally plunging into the depths of a lake, leaving a bubbly trail as it streaks to the bottom.  Wheat stands staring down--stricken--his momentary glimpse of power and authority a shattered memory.
Heyes:  "Well, could've been a lot worse."
Curry:  "How?"
Heyes:  "Coulda been my idea."

The posse races to the base of a low rolling hill and reins up.  A Marshal, riding point, stares down at the ground at the tracks left by the dragging safe gouged in the earth and leading off up the slow rising hill.
Man:  "Shore makin' it easy."
Marshal:  "Yup."
Man:  "Maybe it's a trap."
Marshal:  "You know, I was just thinkin' the same thing.  We better proceed more cautious from here on.  They're awful smart.  No tellin' what that bunch is up to."
And the posse moves off a little more slowly--a little more cautiously.

In the lake, Wheat surfaces and signals a-okay.  The men haul on a rope trailing off into the water.  Slowly a large mass of iron slides out of the lake and up onto the bank.  The gang gathers around in a circle to stare grimly down at the object of their massive effort--a pathetically battered old iron stove with an open oven which seems to be laughing at them.  Heyes takes out his pocket watch.
Heyes:  "Well, I guess that does it."
Heyes and Curry turn away.
Wheat:  Still standing in the water, "You two ain't just walkin' away from all that money?"
They stop and turn back.
Heyes:  "No, we're walkin' away from a posse.  Advise you to do the same."
Wheat:  "I don't take advice, I give it--an' I'm advising you two to reconsider.  Now, you walk away, we ain't gonna be obliged to owe you no share in that money."
Curry:  "Well, that seems fair enough, Wheat.  See you boys later.  Wish you all the luck in the world.  Be seein' ya again--iffen you don't hang 'round here too long."
Heyes and Curry walk away.  Wheat climbs out of the water.
Wheat:  To the men still holding the rope, "Let 'er go."

As they walk to their horses, Curry unfolds the piece of paper from the Little Old Lady.  He reads it as he walks.
Curry:  "Heyes, what's amnesty?"
Heyes:  "Huh?"
Curry hands him the paper.  Heyes reads it.
Heyes:  "Where'd you get this?"
Curry:  "Little Old Lady from Boston.  Said it could be the end to all our troubles."
Heyes chuckles and passes the paper back.
Curry:  "What's amnesty mean?"
Heyes:  "Ah, well...  Well, what it means is there's more chicken thieves, land grabbers, and rag-pickin' penny stealers around than there is lawmen.  So if a man wants to turn himself in, the Governor might see fit to wipe his slate clean."
Curry:  "Might see fit."
Heyes:  "Depends on who you are and what you done."
Curry:  "Oh."  He puts the paper back in his pocket, brought down.  "Well, I don't suppose we'd have a chance."
Heyes:  Chuckles.  "You don't suppose right."
They mount their horses.
Heyes:  Calls back to the men still standing by the lake, "Hey, good luck, now.  You better hurry, boys."
Heyes and Curry ride off.
Wheat:  Mocking,  "Better hurry, boys."
Wheat and the gang watch Heyes and Curry ride away.  On the sounds of sudden and massive gunfire, all faces turn up the trail and we see Heyes and Curry riding at full gallop back, an immense posse hot on their trail.
Wheat:  "Better hurry, boys!"
Wheat and the gang head for their horses.
Heyes and Curry ride down the road, the posse behind them in a huge cloud of dust.
Curry:  "There's one thing we gotta get, Heyes."
Heyes:  "What's that?"
Curry:  "Outta this business!"
And the boys ride off up the trail, bullets zinging all around them from the onrushing posse.

Porterville.  Heyes and Curry come riding into town, trail-dusty and saddle-weary and not attracting any special notice.  It's after ten o'clock in Porterville, and while the boardwalk isn't actually rolled up, most of the townspeople are.  The boys pull their horses to a halt, swing from their saddles, hitch their horses to a rack, and move stealthily toward the Sheriff's Office and Jail.  Heyes and Curry edge up to a lighted window and peer inside.  They see Sheriff Lom Trevors at his desk.  He's a long, lanky, honest-looking Texan of indeterminate years.
Heyes:  "It's him."
Inside the Sheriff's office, Lom is busy with some paperwork.  He hears a knock on the door.
Lom:  "Come in."
Lom doesn't look up as the door opens.  Heyes steps in.  He stops in front of Lom's desk, and clears his throat.
Lom:  "What can I do for you?"
Heyes:  "Howdy, Lom."
Lom:  He finally looks up.  "Heyes."
Heyes sticks his hand out and takes another step forward.  Lom rises behind his desk and also sticks his hand out.  But he's got a gun in his.  Heyes frowns and freezes as Lom thumbs the hammer back.  Hurt and disappointed:
Heyes:  "Aw, Lom, now--is that a way to say hello after all these years?"
Lom:  "Hello, you're under arrest.  And where's the Kid?"
Lom hears a gun cock behind him.  He looks back at Curry, who has a pleasant smile on his lips, a big gun in his hand.
Curry:  "Ought to get a lock for that side door, Lom."
Lom, disgusted, jams his own gun back into its holster.  Curry holsters his as well.
Curry:  "Nice to see ya, Lom."
Lom:  "Well, it ain't nice to see you!  I'm gonna tell ya straight right now, both of ya.  If you're of a mind to pull somethin' here, in my town, you best be primed to walk over my body doin' it!"
Heyes:  "Lom, we're friends!"
Lom:  "Were friends!"
Curry:  "Well, now, Lom, we never held it against you--sportin' a big tin star, big as a hog's head!"  He picks up the coffee pot and fills a cup.  "Coffee, Lom?"
Lom:  "No, thanks."
Heyes:  "Yeah, I'll..."  He takes the cup.  "Well, you know, Lom, we still think of you as one of us!"
Lom:  He rubs his chin.  "Well, what do you want?"
Heyes and Curry exchange a look.  The moment of truth has arrived.  Heyes fishes in his pocket and pulls out the now worn, frayed, sweat-stained handbill.  He gives it to Lom with:
Heyes:  "What do you know about this?"
Lom reads over the paper.
Lom:  "Amnesty?  That's a program the Governor's tryin' out to see if--"  He breaks off and stares at them, aghast.  "You ain't thinkin' of amnesty for you two?!  No, that's for cheap crooks an' small time grifters!"
Heyes:  Loftily, "Well, can we help it if we're a bit better at what we do?"
Curry:  "You can't tell me the Governor's gonna penalize us for excellence!"
Heyes:  "Well, one thing's for sure--whoever does our talkin's gonna hafta believe in us!"
Lom:  "Does your... Does your talkin'!"  Horrified.  "You don't mean me?!"
Heyes:  "Well, hey, Lom."  Heyes slaps him on the back.  "The only man we know can look the Gov straight in the eye--tell him an outlaw can turn good--an' mean it!"
As Lom continues to stare at them, there's a knock on the door.  Curry looks out the window.
Curry:  "It's a girl."
Heyes:  "Hey now, Lom, you be careful!"
Heyes and Curry quickly sit on a bench just inside the door.
Lom:  "Come in."
The door opens and in steps Miss Caroline Porter of the Porterville Porters.  She's a pert-nosed, pompadoured, unpeeled peach--a soft-lipped, shirtwaisted, fully-ripened specimen of Turn-of-The-Century White-Collar Womanhood--with perhaps a bit more firmness of chin and directness of gaze than is yet considered proper for her still-to-be emancipated sex.  Miss Porter sees only Lom, who gulps and gapes at her like a kid caught writing words on the sidewalk.  He stands.
Miss Porter:  "May I speak with you, Sheriff?"
Lom:  "Oh!  Hello, Miss Porter!  Isn't it kind of late for you to be out by yourself?"
Miss Porter:  "Oh, I was working late.  I'm on my way home now, but---"
She breaks off at seeing Heyes and Curry--who are smiling amiably--while also reacting chemically.  She feels the chemistry, too, and is a bit flustered.
Miss Porter:  "Oh, I didn't realize that you were right in the middle of something."
Lom:  Defensively, "I ain't in the middle a nothin'!  These are just a couple of, uh---"
Heyes and Curry stand.
Curry:  Suavely,  "Old, old friends."
Miss Porter sizes them up and likes the sizes.
Miss Porter:  "Well, any friends of the Sheriff's are instantly put on my list of preferred acquaintances!  Aren't you going to introduce us, Lom?""
Lom:  "Huh?  Oh, sure!  Ah, may I present, uh-- Mister Smith, and-- Mister Jones."  Uncomfortably,  "This is Miss Porter."  Significantly,  "Of Porterville."
The boys have exchanged a pained look at Lom's choice of pseudonyms.  But they weren't brought up in a barn.
Heyes:  "Charmed, I'm sure."
Curry:  "Delighted, ma'am."
Her little heart beats faster.
Miss Porter:  "Mister Smith... Mister Jones..."  It's so hard to concentrate.  But she forces herself, swinging back to Lom.  "Actually, Lom--what I came to talk to you about was, we're handling a very large payroll at the bank tomorrow and--" (smiling at Heyes and Curry) "--oh, perhaps I should explain--I'm running the local bank--" (back to Lom) "--and I was thinking we ought to talk about some additional security measures."
Lom:  Fervently, "I'm sure we should!"
Heyes and Curry have pricked up their ears, as you may have surmised, at Miss Porter's direct and parenthetical revelations.
Heyes:  "You?  Are the local banker?  Ma'am?"
Miss Porter:  "In my father's absence.  Yes."
Lom:  Anxious to get her out, "I'll drop by the bank the first thing in the mornin', Miss Porter, and look into your, uh, security arrangements."
Miss Porter:  "Oh, that would be fine, Lom.  Although I'm fairly confident with our big new Brooker Safe."
Curry:  "Brooker?"
Heyes:  "Brooker, ma'am?  Not the Brooker Two-oh-two?!"
Miss Porter frowns.  How come they know so much about safes?
Miss Porter:  "No, the Brooker Four-oh-four."
Heyes and Curry:  "Brooker Four-oh-four?!"
Heyes:  "Well, you just rest assured, ma'am.  There ain't a man in these parts can open a Brooker Two-oh-two--let alone a Four-oh-four."
Miss Porter tenses.  All at once she's the eternal female, her protective instincts aroused.  (She feels very motherly towards money.)
Miss Porter:  Probing, "Now, how is that, Mr. Smith, that you know so much about safes?"
Lom:  Hastily, "Well, it's kind of in his line of work, Miss Porter."
Miss Porter:  "But the Brooker Four-oh-four is brand new!  I didn't know anybody knew anything about them."
Heyes:  "It is new to these parts, but they've had one for some months at the Mercantile Bank of St. Louis, and the Farmer's Bank of Fort Worth, too."
Curry:  "Mmm-hmm."
Miss Porter:  "Mister Smith, you've given your secret away!"
Heyes:  "I have?"
Miss Porter:  "You--are in banking!"
Heyes:  "Yes, yes, you could say that, couldn't you."
Miss Porter:  To Heyes, eagerly, "Mister Smith, given your choice--would you pick a Brooker Safe?  Or a Magnalock?"
Heyes:  "I'd pick either one!  Actually, I'm more in the money end of it.  My partner, Mister Jones, here, is the security expert!"
Miss Porter:  Thrilled.  "An expert?  Right here in Porterville?"
Curry:  "Well, ma'am..."
Miss Porter:  "Oh, Lom...  Now, you know how I've been trying to prove myself while Daddy's away!  It's just that, being only a woman, I... I feel I need guidance!  Lom, do you think that we might prevail upon your friends to take an interest in our little bank?"
Lom:  "Well, I'm sure they'd do just that, ma'am, if they were to stay in town!  As it happens, they'll be leavin' real sudden-like."
Curry:  "However, Lom, since she is a friend of yours..."
Heyes:  "And since we do have some unfinished business with you, Lom..."
Miss Porter:  "Then you will take a look at our security systems?"
Heyes:  Gallantly, "Oh, with pleasure, ma'am."
Curry:  "First thing in the mornin', ma'am."
Miss Porter:  "I know I'll be in good hands!  Ah, good night!"
Lom:  "Good night, Miss Porter."
She goes out, one happy girl-banker.  But Lom is sick as he turns back to Heyes and Curry.
Lom:  "Oh, so that's it.  All this talk about amnesty is just an excuse for you to be here while you set up the bank!"
That hurts our boys.
Heyes:  "Lom, if you know one thing about me an' the Kid, you know our word is good."
Curry:  "We never come anywhere near this town before, 'cause we didn't want to cause any trouble for you."
Heyes:  "All right, if you can't help us now--okay!  We understand.  You make our excuses to the lady, tell her we had to leave town unexpected."  He starts to the door.  To Curry, "Let's go, Kid."
Heyes and Curry are about to go out.
Lom:  "Wait, boys."
They turn back.  Lom moves behind his desk and slumps into his chair, no longer able to support the weight he carries standing up.  He shakes his head, then looks up at the boys.  With a sigh:
Lom:  "I guess I knew all along that you stayed out of Porterville just to keep my record clear.  I suppose one good turn deserves another."
Heyes:  Brightening, "Then you'll do it?"
Curry:  "You'll talk to the Governor?"
Lom:  Nods wearily.  "With all the heat he's been gettin' from the banks an' the railroads, he might even thank me--for comin' up with a way to put you two out of business."
Heyes:  Eagerly, "When can you get started?"
Lom:  "No sense in waitin'.  I'll take the seven-fifteen train in the mornin'."
Heyes and Curry both slap Lom on the back.
Curry:  "Lom, you're a good man."
Heyes:  "Yeah, I told you, I told you."

It's 7:17 in the a.m., and the 7:15 was on time.  The train has stopped to pick up Lom and drop off a few others and now it's all steamed up to be on its way.  Heyes and Curry are on the platform, seeing Lom off to the Capitol.  Lom is swinging himself and his carpetbag aboard as the whistle toots again.  In the background, at the other end of the platform, is a little knot of newly-arrived passengers.
Heyes:  "So long, Lom!  Be seein' ya.""
Curry:  "We'll be waitin' right here for ya when ya get back!"
Heyes:  "With your pockets loaded full of you-know-what!  Huh?"
The train is already moving out.  Still torn by doubts and fears:
Lom:  "Mmm-hmm.  Well, so long, Smith.  So long, Jones.  I expect you can stay out of trouble 'til I get back.  Listen, if anything happens, my deputy's name is Harker.  He's a big blond fella...""
The train picks up speed and Lom is carried off somewhere in the middle of his last misgiving.
Heyes:  "What a worrier."
Curry:  "What could happen?"

Heyes is pressed up close to a massive safe: the formidable Brooker 404.  He's fiddling with the combination lock, intently concentrated in his efforts to open the safe by ear and by touch.  Curry checks the watch in his hand.
Curry:  Quietly, "You got about three more minutes to crack this safe before the bank opens."
Heyes:  "Shhh!  You can't rush a job like this."
After another moment, Curry closes the watch.  Heyes sit back in defeat.
Curry:  "Well, if you can't crack 'er, I don't guess she can be cracked."  To Miss Porter, "Well, it looks like you got yourself a real safe safe, ma'am."
Miss Porter:  "Well, I'm very grateful to you... for your efforts.  Both of you."
Curry:  "Our pleasure, ma'am, and our business."
Miss Porter:  Admiringly, "Oh, that's so apparent!"  To Heyes, "Are you satisfied, Mister Smith?"
Heyes takes out a handkerchief and dabs his face.
Heyes:  "Yes, ma'am.  You got your money's worth."  To Curry, "Five tumbler, sequential action."  Back to Miss Porter, "But a good dynamiter could blow it."
Miss Porter:  Confidently, "Well, he'd have to get through the steel bars at our windows and our doors first."  She checks the watch pinned to her dress.  "Well, I wish we could continue this discussion, but--if you'll you excuse me, I must open our doors."

Heyes and Curry exit the bank and start to walk across the street.
Harker:  "Hey, gents!  Don't make no move toward your guns!"
They jolt to a stop and spin around.  The angle widens to include Sheriff's Deputy Harker Wilkins, a solid, sorry-looking slab of a man, not much bigger than a barn.  He's got the drop on them.  Curry bristles defensively.
Curry:  "Who says so?"
Harker:  "Me--Actin' Sheriff Harker Wilkins."
The boys, under the gun, look at each other blankly, shrug, and step into the sheriff's office as Harker gives way.  Harker, still using the gun to enforce his authority, gestures with it.
Harker:  "All right, you just step right on in there.  That's fine.  Here.  Here now.  On official orders from elected Sheriff Lom Trevors, you are directed to give me your firearms.  Here.  Go on an' unstrap 'em there."
The boys sigh, unbuckle their gun belts, and hold them both out at arm's length to Harker, who has to holster his own gun before he can wrap a big fist around either belt.
Harker:  "That's fine.  That's fine.  Thank you.  Thank you kindly.  Thank you."
Curry plucks Harker's gun out and points it at him.  He and Heyes stand there staring at Harker.
Harker:  "Well now, here, you just put that right back where you got it from!"
Curry doesn’t.
Harker:  To Heyes, "You best to tell him--he don't put it back he's gonna get in big trouble!"
Heyes:  "Umm... You best put it back, Mister Jones."
Curry can't get used to this thing of keeping out of trouble.  But he does put the gun back.
Harker:  "There.  Thank you kindly."
Harker drops their gunbelts into the bottom drawer of his desk, locks the drawer, and pockets the key.
Heyes:  "Ah, hey, Deputy, would you mind filling in some of the spaces with words?"
Harker:  "Yeah, well, you men is on my list."
Heyes:  "Your what list?"
Harker:  "Well, my list of known transients--placed in my jurisdiction by Sheriff Trevors, to be enacted upon in his absence.  Transients bein' found in possession of firearms while under my aforementioned jurisdiction, which is in violation of Article One of the Temporary Transients Act, and makes them subject to immediate arrest and imprisonment."
Curry:  "This was Lom's idea!?"
Heyes:  "Relax.  He's just tryin' to make sure we stay out of trouble.  Huh?"
Curry:  "Oh, well, fine.  Without a gun?"
Heyes:  "Uh-huh."
Curry:  To Harker, "What other kind of 'special rules' you got?"
Harker:  "Well, now, there's Article Two, which says that if there's any trouble in the whole town--that's from a busted window to a throwed horseshoe--that I am to pick up and arrest all known transients."
Heyes turns away with a groan.  Curry looks at him, then turns back to Harker.
Curry:  "How many transients you got on that list?"
Harker:  Holds up two fingers with a smile.  "Two."

Heyes and Curry exit the Sheriff’s office and start across the street.
Heyes:  "Ah, cheer up, Kid.  If it's worth havin' it's worth givin' somethin' up for.  Lom's only testin' us."
Curry:  "Yup.  Gave us wings an' took away the sky."
Heyes:  "Ah..."
They begin to gravitate toward the saloon across the street, but are stopped halfway there by:
Miss Porter:  "Mister Smith!  Mister Jones!"
They turn toward Miss Porter, who is hastening toward them from the bank.  A bit breathlessly, as she reaches them:
Miss Porter:  "I'm sorry.  We hadn't really completed our discussions when I had to break away."
Heyes:  "Hadn't we?"
Miss Porter:  "No.  I could certainly use you--in the bank."
Heyes:  "You mean, to work there?"
Curry:  "Inside, ma'am?"
Miss Porter:  "You don't have to make your decision right now---"
Curry:  Bright and forthright.  "We'll take the jobs."
Heyes:  Startled.  "Huh??"
Curry:  "Why not?  Now, I for one am not too proud.  And like Miss Porter says, it's only ‘til her Pa gets back.  And, well, look at it this way--we're strangers in a strange town, but inside a bank, why, we'll be right at home.  Kind of keep our hands in the... so to speak."
Heyes:  "Well, I... Ma'am, excuse me, we're really gonna have to talk this up between the two of us, if you don't mind."
Miss Porter:  "Not at all!  I'm only thrilled you'll even consider helping me out in Daddy's absence!  Could I possibly hope for an answer by the close of business today?"
Heyes:  "Oh, oh, oh, of course, ma'am.  One way or another.  Yes.  Of course."
Miss Porter:  "Thank you.  Good-bye."
Curry:  "Good-bye."
She smiles and starts back toward the bank.
Heyes:  To Curry, "You..."
They continue across the street to the saloon.

Heyes and Curry enter the saloon, passing two other customers--Shields and Kane.  They belly up to one end of the bar.
Curry:  "I still say why not?  You know, the sooner we grab off ourselves some regular jobs, the sooner we're gonna get off that list of transients, and the sooner we're gonna get our shootin' irons back!"
As in most Western saloons of the day, the choice of drinks is simple: rotgut or redeye, both out of the same bottle.  The bartender puts two shots in front of them and goes away.  During this:
Heyes:  "Yeah.  What's ol' Lom gonna think we're up to, though, if he hears we're workin' in the bank?"
Shields and Kane are observing our boys from a safe distance.
Kane:  To Shields, "I don't know about that other one, but I bet you a dollar that's Kid Curry.  Just like when I seen him ridin' through Fort Griffin--one jump ahead a the posse."
Heyes:  "Then there's the constant temptation--which I ain't sure I got the strength to resist."
Kane and Shields move to the other end of the bar, facing Heyes and Curry.
Kane:  Belligerently, "Hey, you at the end a the bar!"
Both have recognized the familiar sound of trouble.  They've got it.  Heyes looks down the bar at Kane.
Kane:  To Heyes, "Not you."  Points at Curry.  "You."
Curry straightens.
Kane:  "Now, me an' my friend here just been wonderin' who it is you resemble."
Curry shoots a pained look at Heyes, who shrugs and shakes his head sadly.  They've heard that tone before.  Curry looks back at Kane, striving for patience, keeping the lid clamped on his natural impulses, speaking softly and calmly:
Curry:  "Well, my mother, mostly.  So they tell me."
Heyes snickers.
There's a moment of compressed silence while Kane considers that and decides he doesn't like it.
Kane:  "Well, now I see why you don't wear a gun--when you can shoot off your mouth that way."
Curry's eyes fasten on him like cold rivets--and Heyes looks increasingly anxious.  With a chilling smile:
Curry:  "Well, you know what we got here, Mister Smith?  We got ourselves a walk-off."
Heyes:  Shaking his head, "No, no, no--now don't get started---"
But Kane isn't about to let it pass.
Kane:  "Walk-off?"  Darkening.  "I don't like that, mister--an' I don't even know what it means."
Curry:  Calmly, "Well, then, I'm gonna tell ya.""
Heyes:  "No..."
Curry:  "Ya see, when the good Lord was makin' men, he got a whole bunch of 'em all whomped up together an' then he decided to knock off for the rest of the day--thinkin' he'd put the brains in later.  But, guess what happened?  A whole bunch a them critters just upped an' walked off b'fore he ever got back."  To Heyes, "An' that's what we got here.  Walk-off."
Heyes:  To Curry, low, "Don't you push it.  You can't back it up!"  He turns back to Kane, "Sir, I would like to apologize for my friend--and I also want you to be sure that you keep on noticin' that he ain't wearin' a gun."  He slaps Curry’s hip, and carefully lifts the bottom of his own vest.  "And neither am I."
Kane takes his own gun from its holster and lays it on the bar.
Kane:  "Neither am I."
Kane snaps his fingers.  Without taking his eyes away from Curry, Shields hands his gun to Kane, who slides it down the full length of the bar.  It stops next to Curry's hand.
Kane:  "Don't let that stop ya--in case ya feel like reachin'.""
The Kid has taken all he will.
Curry:  Quietly, "Okay, Heyes.  Step aside."
Instead, Heyes steps in front of him.
Heyes:  "No!  No, you can't!"
Curry:  "He's askin' for it."
Heyes:  Fervently, "All right, then--I'm askin' for somethin' too!  Somethin' we ain't never had a chance at before!"
Curry:  Savagely, "We ain't got no chance now!  That eye-baller knows who I am!"
Heyes:  "He can't be sure--not unless ya go an' prove it for 'im!"
There's a long moment.  Then Curry turns his eyes on Heyes and with an almost physical effort, cools it.
Curry:  "Okay.  We'll play it your way."
Heyes grins gratefully and swings around to Kane.  He gingerly pushes the gun back down the bar with one finger on the muzzle.
Heyes:  "Sir, me an' my friend been talkin' it over an'... he'd like to apologize."
Kane:  Wasn't prepared for that.  "He'd what?"
Curry:  "Yessir.  That's a fact.  I'd like to apologize.  I'm very sorry.  I've got a big mouth."
Kane:  Wants the full treatment.  "And no guts."
Curry:  Swallows hard but says it.  "Yessir.  No guts."
Kane studies him a moment more.  Then he picks up his gun and swaggers the length of the bar till he's face-to-face with Curry.  He measures the Kid with contempt.  Then he picks up the other gun.
Kane:  "Ya better be careful when you stand up on your hind legs that way.  Ya might be confused with somethin' human."
Curry:  Still keeping it all bottled up.  "Yessir.  I'll remember that."
Kane:  To Shields, "You're right.  He isn't the man I thought he was.  But even so--I don't like that face.  I'll be through here tomorrow in the A.M.  You better make sure it ain't around here for me to see!"
Curry:  "Yessir.  It'll be missin'.""
Shields and Kane laugh and exit--not knowing how close Kane came to doing that feet-first.  The bartender hastens over to Heyes and Curry and splashes their glasses full with:
Bartender:  "On the house, boys!  And my apologies!  All my customers ain't like him."
Curry:  Almost casually, "Local boy?"
Bartender:  "No.  He's ramroddin' the 2U herd.  They're camped a couple miles south a here.  They'll be pushin' them beeves through here in the mornin', so all you gotta do is stay hid 'til they're gone an' ya won't get hurt."
Curry:  "That's all, huh?"  He turns back to Heyes.  "Well, it's decided.  We're takin' those bank jobs.  'Cause I'm not goin' naked one more day."
He spins around and stalks out.  Heyes watches him go.  There are times when even he doesn't argue with the Kid.

Harker is frowning and pondering heavily.
Harker:  "I don't know about that.  I don't know if a transient can legally hold a job in Porterville."
Heyes and Curry face Harker across his desk.  Impatiently:
Heyes:  "Well, he can't, 'cause the minute he's got a job, he ain't a transient."
Curry:  "Which is what we stopped bein' about ten minutes ago!"
Heyes:  "You can ask Miss Porter!"
Curry:  "So just give us our guns back!"
Heyes:  "We gotta get to work!"
Harker:  "Well... 'til I get a definite ruling from the Sheriff..."
Harker digs the guns and gun belts out of the bottom drawer.
Harker:  "Oh, yeah.  He got over to the Capitol an' sent a message back.  Had somethin' in it for you boys.  Sent it by telegraph, too."  He fishes a yellow piece of paper from another drawer and unfolds it.  Reading, "It says, 'Tell Smith and Jones everything looks good.'"
They exchange a bright grin.

Heyes and Mister Pincus are behind the bars of a teller's cage.  Pincus is showing Heyes the ropes, using piles of currency to demonstrate.  Heyes' eyes are bugging slightly, like a rabbit's in a cabbage patch at the sight of all that nice fresh green stuff.
Pincus:  "Now, I like to keep my hundred dollar bills in piles of ten, and my ten-dollar bills in piles of a hundred... and on my right, I like to have a pile of fifty-dollar bills, twenty of them, and fifty twenty-dollar bills on my left... and the ones you keep in--- What's the matter?"
Heyes:  Dizzily.  "Ummm... nothing, Mister Pincus.  I think I've gotta get some fresh air..."
Pincus:  "You look a little bilious."
But Heyes has already hastened around the counter to the front door--where Curry stands, arms folded, wearing a badge which proclaims him to be a "Bank Guard."  Heyes lurches to him.
Heyes:  "I've got green spots in front of my eyes.  Fives an' tens... I don't know if I can take it."
Curry:  Amused.  "I was just thinkin' how natural you look behind them bars."
Heyes:  "Leastwise I ain't got time to be tempted by Miss Porter."
Miss Porter:  "Hello!  Hello!  May I talk to you for a minute?"
Heyes winces as Miss Porter moves in.  But the lady is directing her attention toward Curry, not Heyes.
Miss Porter:  "Mister Jones, I wonder if we might get together tonight--for dinner--to discuss security."
Curry:  Flatly, "Well, I'm sorry, ma'am, but I have other plans for tonight."

It’s night.  Some cowhands sit around a campfire, drinking coffee.  Shields and Kane stand at the chuckwagon, checking supplies.  They hear a horse approaching.  Beyond the chuckwagon, Curry dismounts and ties his horse to a bush.
Kane:  "Who's that?"
Curry:  "Me."
Kane:  "What do you want?"
Curry walks up to them.
Curry:  "Well, first off, I'd like you to notice there ain't nobody around to watch us now--and I'd like you to notice that I am wearin' a gun."
Shields and Kane exchange a nervous glance.  This is not at all the manner, voice, or look-in-the-eye of the fellow they braced in the Porterville saloon.  With a bit of bluster:
Kane:  "You lookin' for trouble?"
Curry:  Quietly.  "No.  No, no trouble.  Just here to give you a little piece of advice.  Don't take this herd through Porterville.  Take the other road, up through Salt River."
Kane:  "You're givin' the orders, mister.  I expect you can back 'em up?  There's two of us an' only one of you.  That's two guns against one.  That don't hardly seem fair."
Curry:  "It's fair.  You see, this gun of mine shoots two bullets at one time."
Kane:  "Huh?"
Shields:  "Now what's that s'posed to mean?"
Curry pulls a cartridge out of his belt and holds it up.
Curry:  "Just what I said.  Here's one..."
He flips it high in the air, whips out his gun, and fires at it.  It is exploded by Curry's shot.  Shields and Kane blink, gulp, and stare at each other.
Curry:  "And that's the other one.  That's two."  He spins his gun back into its holster.  "Get the idea?"
Kane:  "Uh--yessir.  We'll be goin' by way of Salt River."
Curry:  "Thought ya might.  G'night, boys."
He turns away.

Curry steps into a hotel room and pulls the door shut behind him.  Heyes is lying on the bed.  Curry drops his hat on a lamp table.
Curry:  "Well, you can sleep easy.  Them boys ain't gonna be drivin' that herd through town after all."
Heyes:  Sits up.  "You didn't go out--?"
Curry:  "No, no.  No, I just suggested a safer road."  He takes off his jacket, sits in a chair, and starts pulling off his gloves.  "So all our troubles are over!"

On the street below, six dog-tired, sweat-stained, saddle-sore riders come straggling into town.  They are the remaining members of the former Heyes-and-Curry gang, now suffering under the leadership of Wheat.  Wheat, Kyle, Lobo and the gang sit on their horses looking the bank, which looks like a small fort in the moonlight.
Kyle:  "I don't like it.  Bank sits right there next to the sheriff's office."
Lobo:  "I wish Heyes was here to think it out."
Wheat:  "If I couldn't figure it out as good as him any day of week I'd just plumb quit.  Tomorrow mornin' we'll just take that little bank--without Hannibal Heyes an' the Kid."
The gang rides on.

A bank employee removes the "Closed" sign from the front door of the bank.  Kyle, Lobo and the other three survivors of the old bunch are sitting in a row on a bench.  Wheat, who is masterminding his first major job, is standing in front of them.
Wheat:  "All right, now.  We're all gonna just walk in there, lookin' innocent and normal."  Re-appraising the circle of faces around him, "Well, anyway, we're all gonna just walk in there.  An' I'm gonna go first.  I'm gonna sashay right up to the teller an' I'm gonna tell him to fill this bag up full of money.  Ah, rest of ya, you, ah... Listen, why don't you just stand around ready to cover me in case we hafta shoot our way out."
Kyle:  "Ain't you nervous, Wheat?"
Wheat:  "Huh?"
Kyle:  "Well, you never done First Bandit before."
Wheat:  Defensively, "Who's nervous?  I ain't nervous!"
He starts for the bank.  The others stay on the bench until Wheat motions them on with a jerk of his head.  They get up and troop after him into the bank.  Wheat sails in right past Kid Curry, who stands just back of the door.  Wheat doesn't see him, but The Kid sees Wheat--and decides to wait and see what else is new.  Wheat marches up to a teller's window, where Heyes is working with his head bent down over piles of currency.  Since he's the last person Wheat expects to see there, the bramble-bearded bandit doesn't even glance at him.  Wheat pulls out his gun.
Wheat:  In a low voice, "Don't move an' don't holler, 'cause this is a stick-up!"
Heyes’s eyes focus first on Wheat's six-gun--which is pointed directly at him.  From that, his gaze climbs up Wheat's dirty shirt and looks straight into his hairy face--which all but falls apart with shock when he recognizes Hannibal Heyes--who is perhaps less surprised to find Wheat up to his old tricks.  The two stare at each other.
Wheat:  In a hoarse, incredulous whisper, "What are you doin' back there!?"
Heyes:  "One thing I ain't doin' is gettin' robbed!  Put that gun away!"
Wheat:  "Oh yeah."  He pushes a worn note across the counter.  "Just read that!"
The note reads:  "Put all your tens, twenties, fifties and hundreds in the bag."
Heyes:  Pushing it back, "I don't have to read that!  I wrote it!  Now, will you get out of here?"
Wheat:  Still floundering, "Wait just a minute.  Do you mean to say that you're--that you're legally workin' here?"
Heyes:  "Yes I am."
Wheat:  "Then you ain't got no right to tell me not to rob it!"
Heyes:  "I'm only tellin' you as a friend... because this here bank is protected to the fullest extent of... one fully loaded six-gun in the hand of, ah... Kid Curry."
Wheat:  "Pshhh."
Heyes:  "If you don't believe me, just look behind you."
Wheat stares at him, then looks when he hears the sound of a gun being cocked.  The tableau is dominated without effort by Kid Curry--who still stands by the door, very much at ease and smiling pleasantly--though he does have his gun out and ready.  Kyle, Lobo, and the other crooks are keenly conscious of it, and are all standing still as a field of frozen snowmen, their coal-lump or button-bright eyes fixed on Heyes and the Kid in awed perplexity.  After a moment, Curry saunters into their midst.
Curry:  "Howdy boys."
Kyle:  "Howdy."
Curry:  "Suggest you all wait outside while me an' Heyes talk to Wheat there."
Kyle:  "Well, I think that's a good idea!"
They all go out.  Curry comes up next to Wheat.
Wheat:  Suspiciously, "All right, what's the angle?"
Heyes:  "Amnesty!"
Wheat:  "Huh?"
Heyes:  "Amnesty!"
Wheat:  "Amnesty!  For you two?"
Heyes:  "Well, we ain't got it yet!  But Lom Trevors--you remember--he's talkin' to the Governor right at this very minute!"
Wheat:  Thinks he's being put on.  "He's talkin' to the Governor?  For you two."
Curry:  "Well, yeah.  We'd have put in for you, too, but we didn't know where you were!"
Heyes:  "Soon as we get it, it's a cinch for you an' all the rest of 'em.  'Cause, uh, well, we're much bigger crooks than you are."
Wheat:  Going along with it.  "You really think we got a chance?"
Heyes:  "Sure!  Tell you what.  You take the boys, you go lay low for a couple days--um, go over to the Salt River--an' then as soon as we get the good word, we'll bust over on an' tell ya!"
Wheat:  "Ain't that gonna be a nice surprise--the happy end to seven sorry lives of crime."
Curry:  "Glad you see the advantage, Wheat."
Heyes:  "Go on out there an' tell the boys!"
Wheat:  "Right.  Right!  We'll be waitin' for the word!"
Heyes:  "Yeah!"
Wheat goes out.  Heyes leans against the counter in relief.

The other bandits crowd around Wheat as he comes out.
Kyle:  "Well?  What did they say?"
Lobo:  "What are they up to?"
Wheat:  "They're fixin' to rob the bank without us."
They get on their horses.

Inside the bank, Heyes and Curry stand at the window to watch the gang.  Miss Porter comes over.
Miss Porter:  "That man you were talking to... and those other men.  What did they want?"
Curry:  "Just lookin' for work, ma'am.  Poor devils.  We told 'em to try Salt River."
Miss Porter:  "Oh..."
The gang can be seen through the window as they ride out.
Miss Porter:  "Well, they certainly do seem grateful."
To change the subject:
Curry:  "By the way, ma'am, sorry I couldn't take you up on that dinner last night!  But I am free tonight.  How 'bout you an' me doin' the town?"
Miss Porter:  "Why, I'd love to!"

Heyes exits the hotel with Harker.  Heyes is half-dressed and has only one boot on.  He's carrying his other boot, a shirt, and his gunbelt.  Harker, on the other hand, looks grimly purposeful.  He takes Heyes's gunbelt.
Harker:  "Come on!"
Heyes:  "Now wait!  What's the idea, roustin' a man outta bed like that?"
Harker:  "You'll see!  Come on, come on."
They cross the street.
Heyes:  "What the... Just...just wait a minute!"
Heyes sits on the edge of the boardwalk to pull on his other boot.
Curry and Miss Porter are at the end of a stream of laughing customers coming out of the restaurant.  Curry spots Heyes with Harker across the street.  He looks at them, concerned.
Curry:  "Miss Porter, can you get home by yourself?"
Miss Porter:  "Well, I usually do, but..."
Curry:  "Well, then, I'll be saying goodnight to you now."  He tips his hat.  "Sorry, ma'am."
He crosses the street to Heyes and Harker.  Heyes is still trying to put his shirt on.
Harker:  "Never mind."
Curry:  "Hey, what's the trouble?"
Harker:  "You'll see.  Come on."
They make their way through the saloon.  On the way, Heyes takes his gunbelt back from Harker.  Harker takes them to a back room.  The doorway is hung with a curtain made of lengths of heavy rope.  Outside the room, a mechanical music machine loudly plays.  Inside the room, Wheat, Kyle, and three more members of the gang are seated around a poker table, playing cards.  Heyes and Curry are a bit troubled to see the boys here instead of where they were told to be--but that can't be what's bugging Harker.
The Gang:  As they play poker, "Give me a good one.  Okay.  Pair of eights bets."
Heyes:  "So?  What's wrong with 'em?"
Curry:  "Who are they?"
Harker:  "Transients.  An' listen, they was over to the bank this mornin' lookin' for work!   An' don't you deny it because I've got a full report!"
Heyes:  "Who's denyin' it?  We told 'em go over to Salt River!"
Harker:  "Yeah, but they didn't do it."  They move to the bar.  "Bartender here tells me they been sittin' right there in that spot for fourteen hours!"
Heyes:  "That doesn't make 'em our responsibility!"
Harker:  "Yeah, but I got a feelin' that you know who they are!"
Heyes:  "What?"
Harker goes to the music machine and gives it a kick.  It stops playing.
Harker:  "I said, I got a feelin' that you know who they are!"
Curry:  "Yeah?  Home come?"
Harker:  "Well, 'cause two of their horses got the same brand on 'em as yours have."
Heyes and Curry exchange a long-suffering look at this preposterous (and dead accurate) assumption.
Heyes:  "Now, we bought them broomtails off a herd must a been two thousand strong!  Now, it's just likely somebody else bought a couple!"
Harker:  "Yeah, maybe.  Yeah, but, they're still transients, and as such is subject to all the rules an' regulations applyin' to same.  So, I got to go in there an' take their guns."
Harker tosses down a shot of whiskey, then pushes through the rope curtain.  Whatever his lacks may be, courage isn't one of them.  Heyes and Curry watch him go.
Curry:  "He's about to get his head blowed off."
Heyes:  "Mmm-hmm."
In the back room, Wheat, Kyle, and the other players glance up at Harker.
Harker:  "Well now, boys, I'll just have to take your guns until you decide to ride out of town!"
Wheat:  "Where did you hear that?"
Harker:  "Special rules an' regulations pertainin' to the Temporary Transient Act!  And in this town, you boys is knowed as transients."
Heyes and Curry are still at the bar.
Heyes:  "Well, Kid... Looks like it's time to stand up an' be counted on his side of the law!  Let's go."
They follow Harker to the back room and stand partway inside the rope curtain.
Wheat:  "Transients?"
Kyle:  Worried, "That sounds like at hangin' offense if ever I heared one."
Harker:  "Oh, no, no, no!  Nothin' serious like that at all.  Just means I got to take your guns."
Heyes and Curry are still standing at the rope curtain behind Harker.  They nod to the outlaws:  "Do it."  Harker knows nothing of this.  All at once the outlaws are on their feet, stripping off their guns and holsters.
Wheat:  "Oh!  I guess... if them's the rules... I guess we didn't know the rules."
Kyle:  "Well, we'd be more than happy to oblige, Sheriff!"
Harker gathers up the gunbelts.
Harker:  "That's all there is to it.  You see?  Thank you kindly, gentlemen!  There we are.  Thank you very kindly!"  He turns and sees Heyes and Curry.  "Now you see there?  Transients ain't necessarily hostile!"
He goes out.  Heyes and Curry move all the way into the room.
Heyes:  "I thought you was gonna wait over to the Salt River!"
Wheat gets up from the table and stands next to Heyes.
Wheat:  "What difference does it make, as long as we're waitin?"
Heyes:  "Well, I don't know.  But do you have to do it right here?  Right out in public?"
Wheat:  Almost pathetically,  "All right, I'll tell you the truth.  We're just about busted.  I mean, even our horses is plum stove in.  Those few miserable dollars layin' out there on that table--that's all the cash we got in the world between us."
Curry:  "So?"
Wheat:  Pathetically, "So we can't... we can't afford no place to stay.  But you see, if we just sit here, passin' the same few miserable dollars back an' forth between us, an' buyin' a short beer every now an' then, well, we can't get throwed out!  An' we have got a roof over our heads!"
Kyle:  "Just as long as we don't let no one else in the game, who might walk off with what little we got."
Heyes and Curry look at each other, feeling sadly responsible.  Heyes slaps Wheat on the back.
Heyes:  Brightly, "Yeah.  Now, hey, come on, now.  Don't be so down now!  You won't have long to wait!  Now, Lom's gonna be back tomorrow night, eleven-fifteen train!  And you just sit tight, huh?"
Kyle:  "We'll be just sittin' here waitin'.""
Heyes:  "All right."
Heyes and Curry leave.  One of the outlaws goes to the rope curtains and peers out.  After a moment, he goes to the music machine and kicks it.  It starts playing.  He goes back to the table, sits, and gives Wheat a nod.  Wheat raps on the table three times.  The gang look under the table, where a trap door opens up.  Lobo, sweat-stained and much-smeared, climbs out of the trap door and slides up from under the table to take his place in one of the chairs.  At the same time Kyle slips under the table and down the hole, closing the trap door behind him.  What appears to be a sort of minor mining operation is revealed.  Kyle crawls along a low tunnel, carrying a lantern.  He reaches the end of the tunnel, sets down his lantern, and begins working with a pick.  Back at the poker game, Lobo brushes himself off and picks up Kyle's cards.
Lobo:  "Now then, gentlemen, what's the name of this game?"

It's day.  Harker Wilkins exits the saloon, pauses, then marches purposefully to the bank.  He goes inside and motions to Curry.  They both move to the teller's window where Heyes is working.
Heyes:  "Yessir..."
Harker:  "It's them transients.  They're still sittin' around that poker table, 'bout twenty-two hours now!"
Heyes:  "Must be a big game."
Harker:  "No.  Ain't never been more'n twelve dollars in the pot.  An' it looks like they discourage new money.  I can't figure that out."
Curry:  "Well, maybe they're waitin' for somethin'.""
Heyes:  "Or got nothin' better to do."
Harker:  "Mmm-hmm."
Heyes:  "Look, ya got their guns.  They're stayin' put.  What more do ya want?"
Harker:  "I sure will be glad when that Sheriff gets back tonight though!  Yeah."

Back at the saloon, there's a knock from under the table.  The trap door is opened, and Wheat crawls out.  Another of the gang slides under the table and into the hole.  Wheat takes the emptied chair at the table.
Wheat:  "Time Lom's train pulls in, we're gonna be settin' smack under that safe--scoopin' out money 'stead a dirt."

At the Porterville Train Station, the station agent is writing on a blackboard: "LIMITED DUE 11:15 PM."  The station agent checks his watch as he turns away from the board, and compares it to a clock on the wall.  The time is 8:30.

At the hotel, Curry's looking out the window. Behind him, Heyes is sitting in a chair pulling on his boots.
Heyes:  "Well, whatever Lom tells us when we meet that train tonight, we better not plan on stayin' here."
But Curry isn't listening. He's staring out the window at something he sees on the street below. The gang is exiting the saloon and walking across the street.
Curry:  "Now where are they goin'?"
Heyes joins him in looking out the window. Wheat and the gang are heading for the Sheriff's office. They go inside.
Heyes:  "The whole bunch of 'em? Goin' into the Sheriff's office? Without bein' dragged?"
Heyes and Curry quickly grab their hats and coats and exit the room.

At the Sheriff's office, Heyes and Curry find Harker handing out gunbelts to Wheat, Kyle, Lobo and the rest.
Harker:  "Oh, howdy gents!  Oh, these here transients--they're just leavin' town right now.  Weren't ya?"
Wheat:  "We just heard they's takin' on hands over to the Tumble T--so we're on our way."
Kyle:  "We just stopped by to pick up our hardware."
Wheat:  "Been nice meetin' you gents.  So we just..."  He starts for the door, then swings back as if it's an afterthought.  "Oh, listen, Mister Deputy..."
Harker:  "Mmm-hmm?"
Wheat:  "You wouldn't mind, would ya, if we's to have ourselves maybe just one little extra hand of poker 'fore we left town?  I mean, would ya?""
Harker is so glad to be getting rid of them that he's in a generous frame of mine.
Harker:  "Well...I reckon not.  You boys sure been cooperative an' all.  Course, I'll have to take my leave of ya.  See, I've got to make my rounds, an' then be down there at eleven-fifteen to meet the Sheriff's train."
Wheat:  "Well, you just tell that Sheriff as far as we're concerned, he can just leave you in charge any old time."
Harker:  Pleased, "Well, now, thank you, gents.  Thank you.  Yes."
All the outlaws go out.
Harker:  "They're a fine bunch of fellers there."
Heyes:  "Oh, yeah..."
Heyes and Curry go after them and stop Wheat and the others in the street.
Heyes:  "All right.  Just a bit.  How come you sit still for thirty-six hours--then pick a time like this to decamp?"
Wheat:  "We're not goin' no place!  You given much thought to what's gonna happen when Lom gets back--I mean, if you ain't got that amnesty?"
Lobo:  "Figgered we better have our guns, just in case."
Heyes and Curry consider that.
Curry:  "'Fraid they got a point there, Heyes."
Wheat:  "Yeah, we'll just be waitin' over to the poker table like we was."
The gang heads back to the saloon.  A man rides up to the Sheriff's office.  He wears a green eyeshade and sleeve protectors.  He ties his horse to the rail and starts into the office.
Heyes:  "Hey!  Howdy.  Hey, whatcha got there?"
Man:  "I got a telegram for Deputy Wilkins!"
Heyes:  "Well, right in here!"
The man goes through the door.  Heyes and Curry follow him in.  The man hands the telegram to Harker.
Man:  "For you, Harker!  From Lom."
They all watch as Harker opens the envelope, takes out the telegram, and reads it.
Harker:  As he reads, "Mmm-hmm.  Mmm-hmm."  Looks up.  "Well, thank you very much, Charley."
Man:  "You're welcome."
Charley leaves.
Heyes:  "What's it say?"
Harker:  "Well..."
He folds the telegram, puts it back in the envelope, sets it on the desk, draws his gun, cocks it, and points it at them.
Harker:  "You're both under arrest."

The steel-barred door of a cell clangs shut behind our boys.  Harker turns the key in the lock.
Heyes:  "Now, you ain't even told us what we're charged with!"
Harker:  "Well, you have to talk with the Sheriff about that!  Now, I got to go make my rounds, an' I'll be back directly.  I'll have him with me."
Heyes:  "Leastwise you can tell us what the telegram said!"
Harker:  "Hmm.  Yeah."
Harker goes to the desk, gets the envelope, comes back, and hands it through the bars to Heyes.
Harker:  "There.  Read it for yourself."
He goes out.  Heyes reads the telegram aloud, with rising pain and indignation.
Heyes:  "'Arrest Smith and Jones and hold in... ah ...communicado 'til I get back tonight eleven-fifteen.  Sheriff Trevors.'"  He looks up, hurt, betrayed and embittered.  He walks across the cell, carried away by the injustice of it.  "He sold us out, Kid.  He never even intended to get us amnesty.  He's just back there tryin' to build up our prices with the banks and railroads before he cashes us in.  So here we sit--done in--come to the end of our road--and it took a friend to bring us down."  He sighs.
Curry is rattling a ring of keys.  It takes Heyes a moment to notice, then he gives Curry a joyful hug.  Curry unlocks the cell.  They quickly go to the desk and get their gunbelts from the drawer.
Heyes:  "Now we gonna teach Lom a lesson!"
Curry:  "I say we blow that bank right now."
Heyes:  "Right.  That'll show folks he shoulda stuck around here--doin' his job--'stead of goin' off to the Capitol to feather his nest!"
Curry:  "Yeah.  We'll round up the rest of the boys---"
Heyes:  "No.  No, we gotta keep them outta this."
Curry:  "How come?"
Heyes:  "Well, don't ya see?  They're tryin' so hard to go straight, hopin' for amnesty.  Now we got no right to go wreckin' their chances now."  He puts a hand on Curry's shoulder.  With a touch of nobility, "No, Kid, this is one bank we gotta blow by ourselves."
Curry:  "You know, Heyes, you've got a real big heart."

A sign on a building reads "MINING SUPPLIES."  Through a broken window, Heyes, inside the store, passes boxes of dynamite and other items to Curry, who's outside.

Inside the tunnel, Kyle is still digging.

Heyes and Curry are on top of a two-story building.  Heyes swings a rope with a grappling hook on the end.  It sails across the street to the roof of the one-story bank.  The hook catches on the edge of the roof and the rope is pulled tight.  On the roof of the taller building, Heyes looks around.  He sees Harker walking along, peering into windows and checking doorknobs.

Harker goes into the saloon.  He goes to the back room and looks in on the poker game.

Heyes hooks a pulley over the rope and crosses the street, pulling himself along on the pulley.  He climbs onto the roof of the bank and signals Curry, who tows the pulley back across.

Harker shakes his head fondly.  What a bunch of poker players!  He starts back to the swinging doors.

The boxes of dynamite, hanging from the pulley, are traveling across the street.  The pulley snags halfway across.  Heyes and Curry, trying to free the pulley, tug on the ropes.  Curry sees Harker come out of the saloon.  He signals Heyes and points down.  Both of them freeze.

Harker comes out of the saloon and crosses the street to the bank.  He checks the door.  He walks back into the street and stops to check his watch.  It's 10:30.  He doesn't notice the boxes of dynamite swinging above him.  He moves on.

Curry hangs the rest of the supplies over his shoulder.  Hanging from his hands, he crosses on the rope to the boxes of dynamite.  He puts his feet on the boxes and moves the pulley the rest of the way across.  Heyes helps him onto the roof of the bank.  They pull the boxes of dynamite onto the roof.  Curry gives the rope a sharp snap.  It comes free from the other end.

At the train station, the Station Agent adds "ON TIME" to the message on the blackboard.  He underlines the words.

At the bank, a saw is cutting through the ceiling over the safe.  Another saw is cutting through the floor under the safe.  In the tunnel, Wheat, with Kyle watching, is sawing through floorboards directly over their heads.  A board is cut through and falls.  The black bottom of the safe stands exposed to them, raised on its rollers about a foot off the floor.
Kyle:  "I can see it!  We're smack-dab under the safe!"
They laugh.
On the roof of the bank, Heyes is sawing a hole in the roof while Curry watches.  Heyes finishes the cut and a square of roof falls.  They look down through the hole.
Curry:  "There she is!  We're right on top of 'er!"

Harker arrives at the train station and stands on the deserted platform.  He checks his watch.  It's 11:00.

In the tunnel, Wheat pushes a bundle of dynamite through the hole onto the floor under the safe.  Kyle has a spool of fuse.
Wheat:  "We know the deputy's gonna be waitin' at the station at 11:15..."

On the roof, Heyes is attaching blasting caps and fuse to a bundle of dynamite.
Heyes:  "...and it's a good three minutes from the station back to the bank..."

In the tunnel...
Wheat:  "...which'll give us just time enough to grab the money an' run 'fore Lom gets back."

On the roof...
Heyes:  "So that's when we blow it up."

In the tunnel...
Wheat:  "At exactly 11:15."

At the train station, Harker checks his watch.

In the tunnel...
Wheat:  "11:05."
Kyle:  "I don't know, Wheat.  That's a awful lot a dynamite."
Wheat:  "Yeah.  That's a awful lot a safe we got up there."
Wheat and Kyle start backing down the tunnel, unreeling fuse behind them.

On the roof, Heyes reaches down through the hole and sets his bundle of dynamite on top of the safe.

Wheat and Kyle are crawling through the tunnel, unreeling fuse.
Kyle:  "We'll be long gone out a this tunnel when she blows.  It's gonna be a big un!"

Harker is still waiting at the station.

In the back room of the saloon, Kyle is under the table.  A few inches of fuse sticks up through the closed trap door.  Kyle lights the fuse.

On the roof...
Curry:  "You sure we ain't over-doin' it?"
Heyes:  "Kid, may I remind you--we are dealing with a Brooker Four-oh-four."

We see quick views of the fuse in the tunnel, the gang around the poker table, and Harker waiting for the train.

On the roof, Heyes lights the fuse.  He and Curry watch it burn for a moment, then run for the edge of the roof and slide down the rope.  They take cover behind a bench.

On the roof...  The burning fuse smokes and sizzles along.
In the tunnel...  The burning fuse sparks and sputters along the floor of the tunnel.
At the train station...  The train is pulling in.
In the back room...  Wheat and the boys are holding their cards.
Heyes and Curry peek over the top of the bench.
The fuse on the roof grows shorter.
The fuse in the tunnel grows shorter.

At the train station, Lom steps off the train and shakes Harker's hand.
Harker:  "There."
Lom:  "Howdy, Harker!"
Harker:  "Howdy, Sheriff!"
Lom:  "You arrest those two fellas like I said?"
Harker:  "I shore did!  Everything's under control!"
The dynamite goes off in a huge explosion.  If they'd had the Atom Bomb in those days, Lom and Harker would be sure that somebody's finger had slipped.

The explosion blows the bank apart, then travels down the tunnel to the saloon.  The men around the poker table are blasted backwards in their chairs, scattered like the petals of a daisy, as the table sails straight up.  The front window of the saloon is smashed out.

Heyes and Curry have been knocked backwards into the street.  They manage to get to their feet with the help of the hitch rail.  Green money is floating down from the sky all around them.  They both look stoned.  Heyes puts Curry's hat on his head.
Heyes:  "Ya all right?"
Curry:  "I don't feel a thing."
Heyes:  "What happened?  I can't figure it out, Kid."
Curry:  "I don't know, Heyes, but it must've been awful good dynamite."

Citizens, in various stages of dishabille, are poking their heads out of doors and windows and standing on the boardwalk.

Wheat and the boys, suffering from shock and minor concussions, stand in the blown-out window of the saloon.  Wheat finally climbs through, followed by the others.  They bump into each other in stunned confusion.  Money floats all around them.  They begin grabbing at it dazedly.  Then they become dimly aware of the rain of money all around them.  They reach out and catch a few bills.  They look at each other.  They remember.  They start gathering up money and stuffing it into their pockets.  Heyes and Curry see Wheat and the boys snatching at the drifting money.
Curry:  "That's what happened, Heyes.  They're what happened.  All right, boys!"
Heyes draws his gun and points it at them.
Heyes:  "That don't belong to you!"
Curry:  "Now, just leave the money where it is!"
Wheat:  "Try an' stop us!"
He fires at Heyes and Curry.  Curry draws his gun and fires back, knocking Wheat's gun out of his hand.  Then Heyes and Curry come after them like a couple of avenging angels, snapping shots over their heads and yelling angrily.
Heyes:  "Don't you dare, Wheat!  Don't you dare!  Go on, go on, go on, git!""
Curry:  "Put it down!  You heard him!"
Heyes:  "Git!  Go on!  Git!"
The gang drops the money they've collected and run.
Curry:  "And don't come back!"
Heyes:  "And don't try that again!"
Miss Porter has arrived on the scene and is watching spellbound.  She rushes in and throws her arms around them.
Miss Porter:  "Gentlemen!  Gentlemen, you were wonderful!  You were wonderful!  You were wonderful!  Just the two of you against those men!"
Miss Porter turns to see Lom and Harker approaching.
Miss Porter:  "Lom!  You should've seen it!  I saw it all!  Mister Smith and Mister Jones saved the bank!  They fought along those outlaws side-by-side!  Put that down, they said!   That doesn't belong to you!  They fought for that money just like it was their very own!"
Heyes and Curry look at each other and at Lom.
Lom:  "Uh-huh.  Well, I think even the Governor might be interested in what they did.  I'd like to discuss that, boys--if you wouldn't mind stepping into my office for a moment."

Inside the Sheriff's office, Curry slams his hand down on Lom's desk.  A cloud of dust flies up.
Curry:  Jubilant.  "Yahoo!  We got it!"
Heyes:  "We did get the amnesty."
Lom:  "Yes.  Uh-huh.  But please, please--don't tell me anything about what happened here tonight."
Lom gathers up money from among his papers, shakes the dust off it, and stacks it in his hand.
Heyes:  "Hey, Lom?"
Lom:  "Yeah?"
Heyes:  "Ah...  one thing though.  If we did get the amnesty--how come you had us arrested?"
Lom:  "Well, I was afraid the Governor's telegram 'd get here before I did, setting out the terms, and I was afraid the terms might scare you off 'fore I could explain about it."
Heyes:  "Terms?"
Curry:  "What terms?"
Lom:  "Well..."  He gets up and moves to a file cabinet.  "You've been granted provisional amnesty.  'Course the Governor can't come flat out an' give you amnesty now--'thout lettin' himself in for a lot of criticism.  So, ah, first ya gotta prove ya deserve it!  'Til then, only you an' me an' the Governor'll know.  It'll be our secret."
Curry:  "Secret."
Heyes:  "For how long?"
Lom picks up more money off the top of the cabinet.
Lom:  "The Governor figures a year.  Figures if you can stay outta trouble for twelve months you can do it forever.  Then you got it--the whole thing.  Fresh start.  Clean bill a health.  Amnesty."
Heyes:  "So all we've gotta do is just stay outta trouble for one year."
Lom:  "Mmm."
Curry:  "But we'll still be wanted.  We'll still be blamed for everything that goes wrong."
Heyes:  "We'll still be the same men we was before ya talked to the Governor."
Lom:  "That's true.  But it's only for twelve months."  Optimistically, "You can do it, boys!   I'm sure you can.  Just like you stayed out of trouble for the last few days, right here in Porterville!  Now, that wasn't so hard, really!  Was it?"
Heyes and Curry look at each other.

Narrator:  "So, for the following year, the West's two most-wanted men would lead model lives... lives of temperance... moderation... tranquility.  Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry would cease to exist.  In their places would ride two men of peace--alias Smith and Jones."
Heyes and Curry are riding along, side-by-side.
Heyes and Curry snap looks back over their shoulders.
The same posse which they eluded has picked up their trail again and is thundering down a long slope in pursuit of them.  It is led by the same dauntless sheriff.
Heyes and Curry don't stop to explain about that amnesty.  They jam spurs to their mounts and go galloping off, encouraged to haste by the volley of bullets singing over their heads.  The posse hangs in there, hot on their heels, following them off into the sunset.

Closing Theme and Credits