Heyes sat in his advisor's office with his head in his hands. He gave a soft sniff that he hoped Homer hadn't heard – it was embarrassing to be so obviously upset. "God, how I wish those governors would come across with the amnesty! The dean of Columbia College is bending over backwards to be good to me, but I'm still backed into a corner. What can I do, Charlie? How am I ever gonna explain it to Neal George and Huxtable and Carter, and all the other guys, why I can't graduate with them? Why I might never be able to graduate?"

Homer sat looking with compassion at his star student, who also happened to be a notorious wanted outlaw. He felt pretty low about the situation himself, but Homer clapped Heyes on the back, "Buck up, there Heyes! You ever think of trying on your friends the same thing you tried on Dean Hager? What about as much of the truth as you can?"

Heyes ducked the question, "Hager sure is a great guy – just like you told me he was. I sure wish I could keep having him as my dean when I start grad school, but of course I've got to go over to the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. I trust Dean Hager more than I ever thought I could trust an . . . administrator." The former outlaw had to struggle with that unaccustomed word just at the moment he least needed to have his aphasia remind him of its presence.

Homer countered, as comfortingly as he could, "Your friends are pretty great guys, too. And you can trust them."

"But they're so . . . well, young!" said Heyes in frustration.

Homer could not resist smiling at the thought of a formerly dangerous outlaw's doubting the trustworthiness of these top ranking college students. "I think you've got some pretty trustworthy friends, Heyes! Neal George is older than you are. Carter's got a lot of good sense – more than certain veteran outlaws I could name! And Huxtable, the one I'd worry most about, already knows you're using an alias because you're wanted by the law. And he's been very responsible with that knowledge."

Heyes continued to find objections, "So far as we know, he has. How do we know? Well, maybe I can figure out something that I can tell my friends – but what about Clarksdale and Treadwell and the guys who can't stand me? And all the other guys I don't know well enough to trust that way? I've been visible, you know, being so close to the top of the rankings almost every semester. They're going to wonder. And that could cause a lot of trouble."

"Ever think of telling them it's none of their business?" asked Homer in irritation.

"If you really want to get someone curious, try telling them that!" snorted Heyes.

Homer had to admit defeat on that one, so he cannily changed the terms of the debate, "Come on, Heyes! You are, as you kept reminding me on our trip to Montana, a professional at this! I always heard you were one of the great liars in the West. Why can't you come up with a simple one for this? Whatever happened to Hannibal Heyes with the silver tongue?"

"Bullet in the head!" said Heyes with bitter brevity.

Homer winced. "Sorry, Heyes. But does it really make a difference when it comes to lying?"

Heyes nodded dejectedly, "Yeah, it does. I can't . . . improvise the way I used to. You've never heard the real Heyes line of patter - and you never will. It's gone for good. I used to be able to talk the birds out of the trees, some days. Never again."

Homer looked sadly at Heyes. He guessed it was true. The real legendary Heyes the slick talker had died in the Colorado mountains four and half years before. Homer could only imagine what his still remarkably brilliant friend and student must have been like before that shattering injury. Considering how well Heyes still spoke in class, how great would he have been if he still had all of his old gifts? Homer tried to find a more cheerful message to give Heyes, "Might be a good thing that old Heyes tongue is gone. Sounds like it was a pretty dangerous weapon."

Heyes gave his advisor a lop-sided, ironic grin, "It was, but it used to make this kind of thing easier. A whole lot easier!"

"This kind of thing! Graduating from college was one thing you never managed to do with your silver tongue," Homer reminded his student.

"You might a' noticed, Professor, I can't manage it now, either!" Heyes joked miserably.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

As he walked slowly toward the hall for the graduation ceremony, Heyes saw his friends coming along from the dorm buildings across the street, walking proudly in their robes, among many other undergraduates with groups of friends and family. "Smith!" called Carter anxiously, "Why aren't you wearing your robes?"

Heyes crossed the street to meet his friends. He looked determinedly at the sidewalk until he was close enough that he didn't have to yell. As he came level with his friends he said softly, without looking up, "Because I'm not graduating."

"What?! We all thought you'd be valedictorian, or salutatorian anyway!" Ev was stunned, as was NG. But Huxtable's young face showed a slowly dawning understanding.

"Huxtable, what do you know that we don't know?" asked the perspicacious Neal George.

"I'm not sure," said Huxtable, keeping his voice low.

The trio of friends looked at Heyes, "What about it?" asked Ev almost angrily.

Heyes sighed heavily. "I can't tell you about it here, guys. I really can't tell you much and what I could say is . . . private. Real private. So you just go and I'll tell you later."

Ev looked around, and not seeing any of their rivals, he said, "Look Smith, if you can talk fast, we could just duck into my dorm room for a minute. You got me awful curious. And awful sorry about whatever it is."

"Thanks," said Heyes.

The group convened in Ev's tiny, sparsely furnished room, "Alright, Smith, what is it?" demanded Everett Carter.

Heyes took a deep breath, more to signal to his friends the importance of what he was about to say than because he needed any preparation for saying it as he might have done sooner after his head injury. "So you promise not to tell anyone?" They all nodded, "I can't graduate because the diploma would say Joshua Smith. That's not my name."

Heyes' three friends nodded casually, "We'd figured that," said Neal George. "So what is your name?"

Heyes was surprised, but not shocked, "You figured that?! Well, then you ought to be able to figure that I can't tell you."

"This is us, friend!"exclaimed Ev Carter, "You really can't tell us?"

"I really can't tell you. It isn't just my life at stake." Heyes met each of his friends' gazes in turn.

"Life? Are you serious?!" Ev asked anxiously.

Heyes' voice was dull and flat, "Never more serious in my life. Come on, Huxtable's been pretty quiet. He said you'd all guessed . . ."

"Guessed what?" ask NG looking from Huxtable to Smith and back again."

"I'm wanted by the law, guys." Carter and Neal George gasped. They had thought this might be so – but they hadn't really known.

"Wow! Wanted?" asked Ev, "for what?"

"Armed robbery," said Heyes briefly, speaking slowly and softly, "and a few other things . . . I can't tell you about it. I really can't."

Neal asked, "You're a real western outlaw?"

Heyes snorted a brief laugh, "Yeah. Nothing glamorous about it, guys! Just dirty, dirty, dirty. But don't worry. I went straight a long time ago. I sure never would hurt you. I'm even hoping for amnesty. Governor keeps saying maybe, but it hasn't happened yet. Please be careful what you say! Can't let it get around."

"But what did you tell the dean?" asked Huxtable, "How'd you explain that you can't accept the diploma?"

Heyes said, "I didn't tell the dean I was wanted, but I did tell him my name isn't Smith. And that there are lives at stake. That was enough."

Ev, ever curious, asked, "But who's the other person whose life would be in danger? Is he also wanted?"

". . . Obviously, I can't tell you that. It's time for you guys to go. . . Congratulations, all of you! I'm going home. I better not be there for the graduation or everyone's going to ask why I'm not on stage and I can't tell them. I don't know what to say to them all. Just some . . . administrative problems – old western history – I don't know." Heyes looked at his feet and was embarrassed to be blinking back tears. He had worked so long and so hard for this day, through all his therapy and tutoring and school, and now . . .

"We got to go, but I'm real sorry, Smith," said Huxtable, "We all know you're a great student and you deserve that diploma at least as much we do ours! Right guys?"

"Right!" agreed NG and Ev almost in unison. Heyes shook the hand of each of his friends as they walked out.

"Thanks! I . . . appreciate it. And . . . congratulations! You sure all deserve to be real proud." Heyes managed to choke out. He slunk back toward his rented room feeling low. He wished that he could be at the graduation ceremony to cheer for his friends, but he just couldn't do it.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Heyes got back to his room, he found Beth waiting for him outside the door. She was endangering her reputation, but she wanted to be there with her man when he felt his worst and needed her most. Heyes smiled sadly and silently let Beth in.

"You shouldn't be here, darling," he said, as he kissed her.

"But I have to," answered Beth, kissing his back. "I can't let you sit and forget that I love you."

"Oh honey," choked out Heyes. "After all that work . . . All those years . . ." Now the tears that he had been fighting all day broke out at last, while Beth put her arms around him and made sure that he knew that she meant what she had said.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A letter was waiting even then in Heyes' mail box at the post office. It was written on anonymous white stationary with no official seal or full names or return address so that it's true origins could not be guessed except by the recipient.

"Dear Joshua Smith-

I have made your request to my Montana colleague and, much to my surprise, he has agreed to advocate what you asked. However, only the judge can actually grant such a request. I cannot tell you the date of the proceedings in question, but be prepared.

Best of luck with your academic pursuits.
Sincerely,

F.W."

Heyes wadded up the governor's note and threw it across his room. How could he possibly concentrate on school with a trial for manslaughter hanging over him at some unknown date that could be soon or might not be soon? Be prepared? How?

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Heyes and Beth stood on the platform at Grand Central Depot, holding hands. "It'll be good to get away from school, but I wish you could be there," sighed Heyes.

"I'll be waiting here for you in three weeks, darling!" said Beth, sounding as encouraging as she could. But she remained anxious about her fiancé.

Beth went to see Charlie Homer while Heyes was on his way west. Homer was not happy about what his star student was facing, over and above the rigors of school. "Beth, he said he can't lie like he used to. You know he was legendary not just as a thief, but as a con man? His aphasia seems pretty nearly gone to me, but he moans about not being able to think on his feet the way he used to."

"Yeah, I know, Charlie," said Beth sadly, "He said that to me, too. If he was really as slick before as he says he was, he must have really been something. Do you think he could be romanticizing his past, being sorry he left it behind? Could he really have been as good as he says?"

"Maybe. The Kid sure still notices a difference, or he did last time we got to talk about it, which was a time back. I don't know about Heyes' past," speculated Homer. "But I think he's worried about his future. Do you think he might be getting cold feet about being a teaching assistant? Do you think he's scared about doing all that lecturing?"

Beth didn't answer for a moment as she thought back. Then she nodded, "Heyes said that the Kid and Lom Trevors laughed out loud at him when he said he didn't think he could argue the governor of Wyoming into anything – because he always used to be able to talk anyone into anything. Or he thought he could, anyway. I don't know Sheriff Trevors, except from what Heyes says about him, but do you really think Jed would be that mean to his partner in that tense a situation? Or could Heyes be exaggerating because he's embarrassed about his speech?"

Homer nodded, "I think you're right, Beth. I think Heyes is wishing he had his old silver tongue back, and starting to think he never will. Even though he talked the dean of Columbia into trusting him, which would have taken some doing. And I think I'm right, too – he's worrying about being a teaching assistant – and a professor. Hmn. With all he has to worry about from those four governors and a judge and jury, he doesn't need to be fretting about his aphasia. I wonder what I can do for him."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"How's the sheriff business, Kid?" asked Heyes as the pair sat drinking their beers in privacy in the back room of Christy's Place. "I don't see a tin badge, yet!"

"Don't joke about it, Heyes! Amnesty I look forward to in a lotta ways, but not that star!" moaned Curry.

"Just as well you don't have it yet – then I won't sweat whenever I see you!" said Heyes with a grin. Being back beside his partner had cheered him up more than he had thought possible. It also helped not to have all the reminders of school around him.

"So what're you gonna do this trip?" asked the Kid. "No blowing things up this summer?"

"No, Kid. Had enough of that last time. All the M.A. thesis needs from here is equations and more equations. But this trip, I'm gonna forget about school. Gonna go riding in the pretty weather, and go on picnics, and go fishing with you, and read plays. All the things I love."

"Sounds great, Heyes," said the Kid with a grin. "Just wish I could give up apprentice-sheriffing and saloon managing long enough to join you at it. You seen this?" The Kid handed Heyes a Wyoming newspaper that Lom Trevors had sent him. It said, "Statehood Approaching for Wyoming."

"Oh, shit!" said Heyes, "That's the last thing we need! A brand new state with a brand new governor – elected instead of appointed. Have to start all over again with a new man!"

The Kid nodded, "Yeah, great for Wyoming but trouble for us."

A soft knock at the door interrupted their talk. Cat step quietly into the back and put her finger to her lips, "Wilde sent me a message. An old bounty hunter named Carson just turned up in his office saying he has word on a pair of pretty big outlaws seen here abouts. Wilde thinks it might be you two, but Carson is being cagey and just hinting right now. He says Carson came from Denver way. Wilde'll keep the old boy busy in the office as long as he can . . ."

"I've heard of him! We're out the back way, love," said the Kid in a tense whisper, giving Cat a quick kiss. "We'll head up north where we can hide in the woods for a while. Be sure to send a message to Lom when you can do it without being obvious. And again when the coast is clear."

"Yes, honey!" said Cat, "I know the drill!"

"See you as soon as we can, Cat," said Heyes with a wink and a smile as he grabbed his old black hat off the hook. His addiction to thrills seemed to be back – Cat thought Heyes was enjoying the sudden approach of possible danger.

The Kid kept a ready-packed pair of saddle bags and a bed roll in a closet by the door, and when Heyes was in town, so did he. So once they had both filled canteens from the pump, the partners picked up their going on the run supplies. Then the pair crept cautiously over to the hotel's stable to saddle up their horses.

"Be careful!" whispered Cat to herself as much as to the boys as they led their horses out very quietly and then rode away north a few minutes later. Heyes might enjoy danger, but Cat Christy never would enjoy threats to the safety of her man and his partner. She had lost too many loved ones in the past.