Heyes arrived back in New York at the hot, humid end of August. He moved his few belongings into a new rented room on his own. He was still awaiting his shipment of books, which would cost him a pretty penny. His new rented room was small, but it was clean. And it had a window facing west. Heyes had moved closer to Columbia and farther from the clinic. Joshua Smith didn't tell anyone where his room was – not even Jim or Dr. Leutze or any of his Columbia friends. If he did get taken down, Heyes hoped that this minor bit of secrecy would make it harder to implicate his friends – no one could see them visiting him at home. And if his friends were questioned, they honestly couldn't tell the police where Hannibal Heyes lived. He did have to list his address in university records, so the layer of secrecy wasn't really very thick. But he would take all the security he could get for his few supporters.
Just before classes started, Joshua Smith went over to Columbia University, as he had been summoned for a beginning of semester meeting. He would also meet with his advisor for the first time since the spring. He felt a bit timid as he climbed the stone steps and strolled into the echoing halls, wearing his new wire-rimmed glasses and a new dark grey suit he had had tailored for him in the latest fashion. Heyes wondered if anyone would notice the few grey hairs at his temples, but far more, he wondered if anyone would be watching to turn him in. He couldn't really know if word from Officer Tryon had made its way from Long Island to Manhattan, and more importantly, from an eccentric individual on the police force to the general knowledge of the community around Heyes. It would take only one leak to bring down the whole house of cards that was his life, and to take everyone he loved with it. So he stepped carefully, and looked around tensely, not yet knowing if a leak has sprung during the long, hot summer.
As Heyes walked down the hall near his advisor's office, he heard the voices of a crowd of people. Then he rounded a corner of the hall and saw a bunch of math majors gathered, gossiping, in the hall outside the Dean of Department's office. Smith heard Homer's voice call out, "See, the conquering hero comes!" Everyone turned suddenly to face Smith. The tall graying Professor Homer smiled at his new student and laughed.
Heyes looked up in cynical surprise, sure he was being made fun of. But Homer reached out a hand in congratulations, "Another pair of A plus pluses to add to that glittering record, Smith!" he exclaimed and handed Joshua Smith the report of his two summer classes and the previous semester's list of A grades. Doctor Copley, the round, balding, Dean of the Department, was also there to shake Joshua Smith's hand. A little crowd of math majors, including both Joshua Smith's friends Paul Huxtable, Neal George, and Everett Carter; as well as some of his worst enemies, had gathered to see the new list of class rankings for the Department of Mathematics. Homer and Copley were handing out report cards to a number of students who hadn't gotten the results of their summer studies yet; Smith was only one of them. Huxtable got a particularly warm round of congratulatory handshakes.
Then Homer called for order, and at last had to give a piercing whistle to quiet the crowd. Then Homer and Copley ceremoniously posted the sheet of class rankings for the Department of Mathematics on a bulletin board in the hall, bursting into laughter as Carter comically imitated a trumpet. All the students strained to see the names on the list. A cheer went up from Joshua Smith's friends – his name was printed atop the list for everyone to see. "The King is Dead, Long Live the King!" shouted the young red-headed Missouri Kid, Paul Huxtable, who had in fact been the former leader of that list. Hands reached out from every direction to grasp Joshua Smith's hand in congratulations, the unseated Huxtable's first among them."
Everyone laughed and Heyes couldn't help grinning. He had been called a king before – even in print - the King of Thieves some bright newspaper man had christened him. Hannibal Heyes had known major notoriety coast to coast and even in Europe, he had heard. At first he had enjoyed it – later he had come to hate and fear it. He had long dreaded having anyone learn his true name, since it put everyone and everything he valued at risk. Now Joshua Smith, standing alone at the head of his class, delighted in his new very minor and intensely local celebrity. He was known only within the world of Columbia University's Department of Mathematics. It was a tiny world, but a world he valued – and one where he found that he was valued.
"How much did I beat you out by, Missouri?" Asked Smith, as the group drifted noisily towards the classroom where they would be meeting, "A tenth of a point?"
"A twentieth!" chuckled the good-humored young Huxtable. "I'll get you next time, Kansas!"
"We'll see about that, boy!" Smith joked back. "It takes a man to lead this department!"
After a brief beginning of the school year meeting filled with dull announcements and restless students, Joshua Smith went to meet with Professor Homer in his advisor's little office. A chromolithograph after a Thomas Moran painting of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone was framed on the wall, since Homer was from Wyoming. Otherwise the office was mostly filled with piles of books and papers newly moved back for the autumn. Smith had to lift a pile of papers off a chair so he could sit down.
They talked a bit about Smith's class schedule for the fall, which they had pretty well settled by letter during the summer. But Homer didn't want to stay all business the way Smith had always done with him in the past. This was his new star student and he wanted to know what made him tick.
"So, how were things back in Colorado, Smith? You ever put your fool head out of that hotel room to see the mountains?" Homer asked his prize student.
"Yes, sir. I tried to go riding every day. Sure was sore at first!" Heyes answered, a bit self-consciously.
"You don't have to keep calling me sir, Smith! For Pete's sake, we're two westerners – first names are fine for me if they are for you – in private, anyhow." Homer had always been a bit puzzled by the formality and distance that Smith had insisted on keeping between them, when it was clear that they had a terrific amount in common.
"Fine for me, S . . . do you prefer . . . Charlie?" Heyes felt awkward. He was nervous of revealing too many personal things to a man from Wyoming who must know the criminal record of Hannibal Heyes in detail. He and the Kid were easily the biggest celebrities the territory had ever produced.
"Yes. You like Joshua better than Josh?" Homer was feeling his way, too, trying to get this brilliant but mysterious mathematics student to relax with him and open up some.
"I do, but honestly, it doesn't matter to me. I'm just tickled to be here studying, after all these years." Heyes decided that he had better let out at least a little bit of how he felt and why. He could share some parts of his background that shouldn't be too easy to connect to Hannibal Heyes. He could see that his former reserve was making this very perceptive man, who clearly cared a lot about him, a bit suspicious in itself.
"I can see that you're happy to be studying - judging from your results!" Homer shook his head in wonder. "I've seen a few belated students from unorthodox backgrounds who've been impressive – always know what they really want much more than the youngsters. But, frankly, I've never seen anyone achieve results like yours straight away. Even with the aphasia problems – you're still at the top of the class. You do know that, right? I mean not just in this department – in the whole sophomore class. You won't see the results listed officially, since you started in the spring instead of the fall, so you can't really compete fairly with people who've had so much more class time than you have. But your grade percentage tops the whole list. It's not everyone I'd say that to – not everyone can handle that kind of news. But you're a man – you won't let it put you off." Homer sounded confident of this.
"No, S . . . I mean Charlie." Smith grinned. He could hardly believe it. After all the suffering that had gone into those grades – especially at the end of the semester when he had been going through that long, agonizing break-up with Beth. He was the best already! "I know freshman work is easy compared to what comes later – I've got friends a year ahead warning me. I won't slack off!" And he meant it. His education could be curtailed at any moment – he would take advantage of every opportunity he had, while he had it. He looked forward to writing to Silky and Big Jim and Soapy with the good news.
"What I don't understand is, how did you study math when you were out on the range? I've never been able to get you to sit there and explain it." Homer stared fixedly at Smith – determined not to let him wriggle off the hook this time. There was a good story here – maybe one he could use to motivate other students.
Heyes swallowed and took a breath. He wasn't at all sure how much he could safely reveal, without endangering himself, and possibly even his former teacher-former friend, Robertson. They had parted under circumstance that had made Robertson understandably furious with Heyes, but Heyes had no reason to wish ill toward Robertson. "I, um, I'd rather not tell you too much about it, if you don't mind. The guy who rode with us was a former teacher – he, uh, he had to leave off teaching. Because he, well, he was wanted by the law. He wasn't guilty – at least he said he wasn't – but no one believed him and he had to make his living how he could. He gave me an algebra book and told me all he could about it. Came in damn handy, too!" Heyes stopped suddenly. Now he was going to have to explain that last line without talking about blowing safes and robbing trains.
"Excuse me, math was handy for a cowboy? I've done some cowpunching in my time, and I never used math once. And I would've if I could've, as you can appreciate." Homer was openly skeptical.
"Well, I did some mining, too. Need math to figure how much . . . dynamite or nitro to use, blowing out gold veins. Vein I was on wasn't much, so didn't go on too long. But math was a whole lot better than by guess and by golly like most of the guys did. A lot safer. And I did some bookkeeping, too, in a saloon. Got sold out and had to leave, but came in handy for a while." Heyes hoped this would work – it was a carefully chosen fraction of the truth.
"Bookkeeping, alright. But figuring dynamite charges? That's awfully complex math for someone with that little training. So you've always had the instinct for it. I guess what I really wonder was how you got interested in the first place. Surely this guy didn't run around teaching algebra to all the cow hands?" Homer laughed softly at the mental picture.
Heyes smiled. It did sound kind of silly. "Well, no. I guess I was always interested. We got to talking and one thing led to another – found out what he'd done for a living before. I just didn't get near enough good math . . . instruction in the few years I was in school – never had a good teacher in the one-room school house. Not good at math. I just kind taught myself, out of the book, when I could. Probably got a bunch of stuff wrong."
"Well, we're fixing it now, if you did."Homer was curious about a lot more things – like why Smith had had so little time in school, for one. But he got the distinct feeling that he had exhausted his student's patience. He had questioned him more than enough. "Sorry to grill you – I can't advise you real well if I don't know your background. But you're here to ask me stuff, too. What can I tell you ?"
"How did you get interested in math, Charlie?" Heyes was curious in his turn. He certainly had a fine understanding of how hard it was for someone off the range to get into the academic world.
"My father did some surveying before he took up ranching. He'd taken some college classes in Chicago before he went on West. So he taught me when I was growing up on the ranch. You're right – not a lot of good math taught in those one-room school houses in my experience! But I think you've got some friends waiting for you outside that door – you need to go celebrate that new top ranking!"
Heyes could hear them – it did sound like a little crowd was gathering in the hall. He said good bye to his professor and went out to meet his friends. They went off to their favorite bar, joking and play wrestling, glad to be together again. Heyes felt luckier than he could say to have people who cared about him – both in Colorado and in New York.
He just wished that Beth was one of them. He couldn't manage to keep his mind off her, especially when he was on campus. He was so conscious that he would never have even started college without her help. Even more than Robertson, she had realized his gifts and helped him all she could. So as the boys headed down the street, Joshua Smith, the one with the most to celebrate, was the quietest and most thoughtful of the bunch.