In Louisville, the Kid was passing the telegraph office on his way to the dry goods store when the telegrapher popped out of his office and took him by the arm. "Mr. Jones, I got a message for you, just now, from New York. Sounds damn urgent."
The Kid snatched up the slip of paper and read the rambling, panicked message as rapidly as he had ever read anything in his life:
I told her stop I did not mean to but I had to stop she left me stop she said no danger to me or you stop I believe her stop how can I trust her stop I do not dare go home to bring trouble stop good bye stop
Clitterhouse, New York, New York
The Kid stared at the little piece of paper in horror. He knew that he had no time to figure out the fine points – who "she" could possibly be and how Heyes had come to reveal their true identities to her. The Kid only knew that he had to respond instantly so the message would reach Heyes before he left the telegraph office in far off New York to go to some unknown place and perhaps never see his partner ever again.
Jones grabbed the telegrapher's vest, "Reply now. I'll dictate." The telegrapher opened his mouth to say something about company policies, but then shut it and stood with his hand poised above the key.
The Kid needed only two words:
Come home stop
T J
The Kid had known instantly what "Clitterhouse" meant. By taking on this name, Heyes was saying that he believed that he had betrayed his partner just as the loathsome Sheriff Clitterhouse had betrayed them after they had gone straight. The Kid could not believe that his partner had truly betrayed him – it must be only how a distraught Heyes was seeing things. The Kid desperately hoped to God that Heyes was right – that the woman he had told about their identities would not turn them in. And he prayed that Heyes would get the message in time – before he left the Kid's and Cat's lives, perhaps forever.
The telegraph remained silent for a terrible, eternal minute, and then another, and another, and another. Had Heyes left and missed the message? Or was he deciding how to reply? Or would he never reply?
Then the telegraph line clattered briefly to life. The telegrapher wrote down the signal. The Kid waited breathlessly for the transcription. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, although it was only seconds, the telegrapher handed him the message. It read:
On my way stop thank you stop
JS
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooo
The Kid went down to the Louisville train station four days later. It was an overcast, warm, day in late May threatening rain. He wasn't sure if his partner would even be in that day on this train from the East. If Heyes had waited even an hour to actually catch the train in New York after his brief telegram, he wouldn't arrive until the next day. But the Kid had the distinct feeling that when Heyes had telegraphed "on my way," that he had meant it literally. And the Kid also had the feeling that his partner would need friends around him right now.
Sure enough, when the 12:06 pulled in, a single figure jumped off and walked over to the Kid, weighed down by saddlebags and a carpet bag, bulging with books. Heyes was still in his eastern suit. It looked like he had slept in it for the past four days, not even bothering to change his shirt. If he had slept at all – there were black circles under his very bloodshot eyes. Heyes' head was down as he approached the Kid. He didn't say a word.
Since there was no one within earshot, the Kid said, "Hi Heyes. How are you?"
Heyes started at the sound of his own real name and he looked around anxiously. "Are you crazy?" he whispered urgently to his partner.
"No," the Kid replied in a level voice, not whispering, "Are you? You think I didn't look around first?"
Heyes sighed deeply. "Sorry. But ever since . . . you know . . . I've had the galloping jumps."
"Looks like it. Did you get any sleep at all?" Heyes shook his head, his greasy, very long hair flying back and forth with the motion.
The Kid looked at his friend with compassion, "Come on home and get some sleep, partner."
"Thank you!" Heyes said with feeling. He would never take that phrase for granted again. The Kid knew that his partner was thanking him for far more than a mere bed for the night.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooo
When Heyes woke up hours later, called downstairs to ask for a tub and hot water. He took a luxurious bath, washed his hair and toweled it dry. Then he dressed in his western clothes. They were wrinkled, but they felt good on. With his hair still a bit damp and curling up at the ends, Heyes joined the Kid and Cat for dinner in the back room of Christy's Place where they could have some privacy. Heyes sat down silently and avoided his friends' eyes.
"I'll ask you again, Heyes," said the Kid, "How are you?"
"I don't know." Heyes yawned sleepily. He sounded detached. "Exam results aren't out yet – or did you get a telegram? I didn't even tell anyone where I was going, but Dr. Leutze'll figure it out. He'll sure send me word."
Cat asked, "What about Beth Warren, wouldn't she?"
At the sound of the name, Heyes' ducked his head and fell silent again.
"Oh," said Cat. "Sorry Heyes. So she's the one . . ."
Heyes nodded without looking up. The Kid and Cat exchanged worried glances. This explained a lot. It wasn't good news at all. They both knew how much Heyes respected Beth Warren and how much he depended on her and trusted her. If he had tried to have a romantic relationship with her as well and it had failed that spectacularly . . . They both hated to think what Heyes was going through. And wondered what he would do next.
The Kid wouldn't have dared to prod his partner at that point, but Cat went on and asked. "So, what are you gonna do?"
Heyes, still not meeting her eyes, replied mechanically, "I don't know."
A long minute of silence passed before Heyes went on, running his hand through his drying hair with a familiar gesture. "I'm having some books shipped out here – hope you don't mind. I want to stay here for the summer, if it's alright with you. I'll study all I can – maybe work out some way to do a summer course or two by letter or something. Don't want to lose time – I got to get this degree finished soon as I can, come back home for good. And I don't want to go back to New York too soon with that police guy on Long Island, name of Tryon, still looking out for me and telling all his friends to do the same. Maybe it'll calm down over the summer."
"You know we're glad to have you, Heyes!" said Cat warmly.
"If you can do the books for us, you slacker!" said the Kid with a teasing grin.
Heyes looked up to see his partner smiling and laughing at him. He gave a wintery little smile back, "Yeah Kid, always glad to do the books. Keeps me from just twiddling my thumbs." It was a lame joke – the Kid and Cat knew how hard Heyes worked all the time.
Heyes went back to his room soon after dinner. Cat and the Kid assumed he was up there reading or doing math or some other school work as usual.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooo
But as the sun set, Heyes reappeared down stairs – this time in the front room. Looking around self-consciously, and noticing that the Kid and Cat were both absent, he walked deliberately over to the bar.
Heyes leaned on the bar as he had many a time, although the Kid wasn't at his side as he usually had been. "Your best whiskey, Joe!"
Joe fixed him with a level gaze. "No, sir."
"What the hell?" Heyes exclaimed, more to save face than anything else. With a sinking feeling, he knew what was going on.
"Orders of Mr. Jones."
Heyes looked at Joe angrily. "Well, if he's that cheap with his own partner, your worst whiskey."
"No, sir. No whiskey for Mr. Smith. Them's my orders." Fat blonde Joe looked a bit nervous. Heyes could be an intimidating man when he chose – and right now he chose.
"I'm floor manager and if I want whiskey . . ."
"Then you got to get it someplace else, Mr. Smith. It's as much as my job's worth to cross Mr. Jones. Nothing stronger than beer for you and only two of those." Joe's voice shook just enough for Heyes to notice it.
"Aw crap, my own partner! Damn insulting is what it is. Alright then, beer and make it snappy." Heyes knew what was going on. His partner knew him too well. Heyes had been forbidden the bar during his immediate recovery from aphasia. And when the bar was closed, all the booze had been not only locked up in the store room but secured behind an elaborate wax seal. If Heyes had picked the lock, his partner would have known instantly. Heyes guessed that the wax seal would be back in the morning when the bar closed. He sighed. He wished that his partner wasn't right about his weaknesses, but he was. Heyes could go years without abusing alcohol, but when he fell off the wagon, he fell hard.
Joe exhaled in relief now that Smith had settled for beer. He had been terrified that Smith would go out to another establishment, in which case Joe would have had to report it to Mr. Jones or Miss Christy; he knew that it would have made them very unhappy, and having Mr. Jones go after him would have made Mr. Smith very unhappy. And that would have made Miss Christy positively miserable. Joe could deal with ordinary fist and gun fights like any good bar tender, but a fight between Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones and Miss Christy would have been more than he could have stomached.
Heyes sipped meditatively on his beer. A few minutes later the Kid came and leaned at his side ordering his own beer and speaking very, very quietly to his partner, with a quick sideways glance. "Sorry, Heyes. But you know . . ."
"Yeah, I know." Heyes glanced at his partner. "My memory goes back before we went straight, you know. Just don't say any more, alright? Not another word about it." Heyes kept his own voice very low as well.
"I'm not a big talker, you know that."
"There's one of the biggest myths west of the Mississippi!"
"You met Valerie yet, new girl here? Might be just your type. She's real nice, if you ask me."
"Nobody asked you."
But Heyes couldn't help but glance into the mirror behind the bar, which afforded him the sight of a stunning young woman with a pile of auburn hair. She was wearing a low-cut green dress that showed off her statuesque figure as she leaned on the piano. Heyes could hear her throaty voice singing along with an old western ballad that Ted was playing. Heyes swallowed hard. "Wow!" he thought.
Somehow it wasn't all that much later that Mr. Smith managed to make his way from the bar to the piano. "Good evening," he said to the voluptuous young woman as she finished her song. He couldn't help looking her up and down. "You must be new here. You weren't here last Christmas when I was here last – I'd sure have remembered. My name is Joshua Smith. I'll be floor managing over the summer, so I need to know everyone. Glad to meet you."
Miss Valerie smiled and her eyes flashed with pleasure. When Mr. Jones had told her about his partner, he hadn't mentioned how good looking he was! "I'm Valerie Brice. Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Smith. You're Mr. Jones' partner, aren't you? Back from New York? I'd love to hear all about the big city!"
Miss Valerie went with Mr. Smith over to the best table in the place. He brought her peppermint schnapps from the bar and brought his own beer over. They were on a first name basis immediately. There were certain perks to being floor manager, after all.
Suddenly the idea of consuming quantities of beer or whiskey just wasn't as interesting to Heyes as it had been earlier in the evening. And it wasn't all that much later yet that two people who had hardly met each other were quietly making their way up the stairs to get much, much better acquainted.
Yeah, the Kid knew his partner real well.