T’was the Night Before Christmas when all ‘cross the West
Two Outlaws were running, no time to seek rest.
Their horses were lathered, all covered with foam
Hooves steadfastly pounding the path that led home.
The posse that followed was hot in pursuit
To claim the rewards, plus recover the loot
The infamous outlaws had stolen from town.
The banker was furious; Said, “Track those boys down!”
So on Christmas Eve, through both snowflakes and gloaming
They chased wanted men o’re the hills of Wyoming.
Away to the Hole, outlaws few like a flash
Their saddlebags bursting with ill-gotten cash.
The moon, never breaking through clouds filled with snow
Did not light their way, and the wind, it did blow
Whipping up a fair blizzard of epic proportion
But Heyes (Champeen Tracker) had employed every caution.
The boys persevered, despite six-gun fire
Which whizzed past their ears. The situation seemed dire.
More rapid than eagles the posse, they hounded
But near to the pass, Outlaw voices resounded,
“Hey Lobo! Hey Kyle! Hey, there, Wheat, if you’re listenin’
Let us into the Hole, ‘fore this posse quits missin’!”
But, the saddlebag stash had been hit, and a tear
Had developed, and now dollars flew through the air
Reminding the boys of the oath they had given
to Lom, that peaceable lives they’d be livin’.
So with covering shots from the Devil’s Hole Gang
Partners gathered loose cash. To their steeds they then sprang.
Returning to town, they surrendered their plunder
At the town’s village green, ‘neath the Christmas Tree–Under.
Just as the boys finished and turned to retreat
A whole bunch of orph’lings appeared at their feet
“Do you see? It is Santa!” the children, they said,
Though the boys were much slimmer, and not dressed in red.
At this point, the banker rushed out to the throng
Cursing and swearing, “These crooks should be hung!”
T’was right at this moment, arrived the town’s sheriff.
Cutting right to the point, the guy looked like a cherub.
A plump little fellow, red shirt, rosy cheeks,
And the beard on his chin looked like snow-capped white peeks.
He turned to the banker and firmly he warned him
To check his facts fully ‘fore falsely accusin’
Two poor weary travelers, just passing through,
Who’d brought a donation for the orphanage too.
“Donation? It’s robbery!” said the banker. “Their fault!”
Sheriff gave him a wink and he said, “Check your vault.”
Heyes and Kid Curry exchanged looks of worry
‘Cause the banker, a spring in his step, he did hurry
To check in his vault, prove the transients were thieves.
But the Sheriff just winked and he said, “This way, please.”
They arrived at the vault and, lo and behold,
The cash, it was back in its place, hard and cold.
Though the boys never could quite explain this event
The story was told every year, subsequent
How St. Nick’s Christmas Magic had sav-ed their hide.
Now to all, a Good Christmas, and to all a good night!