Heyes was back in Louisville for the third Christmas after his shooting. A blanket a pristine white snow lay over the looming Colorado mountains as Heyes got off the train and shook his partner's hand. "How're things at Christy's?" asked Heyes.
"Real good, partner," answered the Kid very honesty, "good business and no – um – problems lately." That is, no bounty hunters or outside sheriffs or dangerous outlaws had been through lately. But as he spoke the Kid studied his partner – that was where the problems were lately. Heyes' letters of late had been short and perfunctory. When Heyes had little to say for himself he was, in the Kid's experience, either incredibly busy or trying to hide something – or both. The Kid's partner certainly looked a lot better than he had when he had arrived for the summer vacation. But there was still a shadow in those brown eyes. And Heyes said very little.
The Kid, Cat, and Heyes had a pleasant Christmas together. Heyes brought down his guitar and they sang Christmas carols together between the delicious meals Cat fixed for them.
After Christmas dinner the Kid and Cat sat on a love seat and snuggled next to the stove while Heyes sat a little ways off. His eyes looked about a million miles away-or at least sixteen hundred miles. He sighed and looked out the window at the snow falling gently in the dark outside.
"What's eating you, Heyes" asked Cat. She wondered if it was just the usual Christmas thing – remembering his family and how he had lost them – or something more.
"Nothing, Cat," Heyes smiled at Cat, but the smile lasted only a second and didn't go above his lips. He looked at Cat and the Kid holding hands by the glowing stove, and he looked outside again.
"How's school?" asked the Kid.
"Fine, Kid, just fine." Heyes' voice was flat and non-committal.
"That ain't much to say, partner. What've you been doing all these months?"
"Taking a lot of classes, Kid. Want to finish soon as I can and get back out here. Passed 'em all." Heyes looked out the window again.
Cat looked closely at Heyes. "What about that guy Tryon who spotted you? Any word?"
"Good news there – I think. I saw the guy in Central Park – know it was him, another guy called him by name. He looked right at me and didn't recognize me! Guess the glasses fooled him." Now Heyes did grin – this news made him reasonably happy. But he went on, "But he didn't look at me hard. I do kind'a wonder if he might see me again and have something click. If he's on duty in Manhattan now . . ."
The Kid shook his head, "Since when is there anything sure in this life, Heyes, especially for us!"
"Since never, Kid." Heyes laughed. "For us. Other people, though . . . "
"Lonesome for Beth, aren't you?" asked Cat, putting her finger on the problem and not for the first time. Heyes nodded and sighed and kept gazing out the window. "You're welcome to ask her out here any time, you know," Cat offered, "or any of your friends." She knew that Heyes and Beth were back to speaking again, but didn't know that much more about the situation.
"Thanks, Cat. I appreciate that," Heyes said quietly. He sighed again. "I doubt she'd come. She always says she wants to see the West, but she's at home in the East. And she'd have to have a . . . chaperone – come out here - don't know who it would be that we could trust out here. And besides, she's looking after her sick aunts in Maryland for I don't know how long. Been months . . . I write and she writes back, but I don't know where we stand. I just don't know." And that was the most Heyes would say on the subject.
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The day after Christmas, a letter arrived for Heyes from Beth. But it had gotten wet somewhere along its path. The pages were fused and the ink had run. Heyes tried in vain to get the sheets apart using the sharpest thin bladed knife from among his varied kit of tools of thievery. All he made was an illegible heap of bits of distorted paper. He could not read one word past his own address, in Beth's neat hand. The unspeakably frustrated Heyes dumped the mess into the stove to burn.
He stalked out into the December cold in his heavy coat, thinking he might go riding. He rode Clay up and down the local road for a few minutes, but it was just too cold and snowy for him to go out into the mountains. This time of year, the snow was measured in feet rather than inches. Even out in the immensity of the West, Heyes felt trapped.
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The next day, another figure from New York jumped off the 12:06 train and found his way to Christy's place, in the shadow of the snow-covered Colorado mountains. The New Yorker found the Christy's sign and pushed aside the swinging doors to swagger into the saloon. He encountered a second set of doors that he hadn't counted on - storm doors. But after all, it was awfully cold in Colorado in the winter. Past the storm doors the newcomer found a row of coated men leaning on the long bar, downing beers and whiskeys. A man with curly, honey-colored hair was behind the bar talking to one of the row of customers, a man in a dark, battered hat that the man from New York recognized. It had hung on a bedpost in his room for over a year. "J-Joshua!"cried Jim.
The black hatted cowboy whirled around, his right hand touching the grip of his gun until he saw Jim's scarred but smiling face. "Jim! Wow, you really came West at last!" Heyes smiled gladly at his New York roommate and gave him a bear hug.
The Kid came out from behind the bar to meet this young man he had heard so much about. Heyes beamed and said, "Jim, this is Thaddeus Jones, my partner. Thaddeus, this is Jim Smith, who watches my back in New York."
"Welcome to Christy's place, Jim!" exclaimed Jones and shook Jim's hand. "Whatever you want, it's on the house!"
Jim's face positively glowed with joy. "Thanks M-M-Mr. J-J-Jones!"
Cat heard them and came out to meet Heyes' New York friend. "We are mightily glad to see you, Jim!" exclaimed Cat. "Welcome to Christy's Place! We're really happy to have you stay here for as long as you want."
Jim could hardly take his eyes off the very lovely Cat Christy.
"Thank you, m-m-miss Ch-Ch-Christy!" said Jim, "I'm ob-b-bligued to you!" The easterner was delighted to sneak in that western phrase he had read in many a dime western.
"Jim, what'll you have?" asked the Kid, heading back behind the bar.
"Whiskey!" said Jim with a grin, thinking of many scenes in western novels. But he quickly changed his mind. "Ac-c-t-t-tually, I'm d-d-damn cold. D-d-do you have a hot c-c-coffee?"
"Sure thing, Jim." answered the Kid with a wink.
Jim stared around the place, fascinated with every detail of this authentic western saloon with its long mirror behind the bar and a painting of a naked girl and a guy playing an upright piano. It was right out of the dime novels. He got a charge out of seeing his roommate in this setting, rather than on Long Island, dressed in a cowboy hat and boots and with a pistol openly on his hip just like the western heroes and villains from the books. The pair who had leaned on a few eastern bars leaned on Christy's bar together and the Kid stood on the other side.
"S-s-so, you really are a c-c-cowboy?" Jim asked Joshua.
Heyes shrugged. "No. Not really. I only own one horse when real cow . . . punching takes a good ten or twelve. I'm not a good enough roper to make a decent living that way. I've been on some cattle drives. Man, it's hard work! Ain't it Thaddeus?"
"Damn right!" agreed Jones. "Up before dawn, ride all day and into the dark. And oh, that prairie's hard and cold under a blanket."
"You said it," agreed Smith, "There are lots of other odd jobs we're better at and that pay better. As Jones says, we do as little as possible, so long as it isn't hard on the back. The more correct term for us is saddle bums, or it was before Jones settled down here with Cat to tend bar and run the hotel. And you know what I spend most of my time doing, these days."
Joshua Smith cheered right up with his eastern friend in town. He happily showed Jim around the saloon and introduced him to everyone, including the very lovely Valerie. Heyes wasn't spending as much time with Valerie as he had over the summer – in fact he didn't do more than buy her a drink now and then. But Jim was seriously impressed by the auburn-haired beauty and he was glad to buy her a drink himself.
Despite the cold, Jim insisted on visiting Clay and Blackie in the stable. Jim happily petted the two horses and looked at them with respect as Smith and Jones introduced them.
"Yeah, Jim," said Joshua Smith, "this is the horse that saved my life – and so did Thaddeus, of course."
The Kid took up the story, since his partner couldn't remember that part when he had been unconscious. "He led us here to Louisville when it was so dark, and I was so tired, that I couldn't find any place to go. With Joshua bleeding all over the place and out cold, it was pretty hard to know what to do. And Clay had gone lame, so we were mounted up double on Blackie. Blackie worked damn hard, carrying us both. But Blackie didn't know his way any more than I did. Clay, limping real bad, found the way all on his own. If he'd ever been here before, I don't know about it. So I don't know how he managed. Maybe he smelled hay. I don't know – whatever happened, he saved both our lives that night."
"G-G-guess you'll t-t-take good c-c-care of him always, w-w-won't you?" said Jim.
"We sure will," said Heyes, thinking again about how much he owed Clay – and his partner.
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The next day, Jim was indulging more of his western fantasies by taking part in a poker game with Joshua and Thaddeus and a trio of smiling locals who were willing to humor the New Yorker and not take too much of his money. They quickly began to realize that the easterner was a pretty canny player himself, if not quite the equal of his roommate. If Jim had known that he was sitting at a poker table flanked by his two greatest western heroes, he might not have been as composed as he was, as he raked in yet another pot.
Late in the afternoon, the saloon's storm door opened, letting in a blast of cold air and the bundled up figure of a ragged, sandy-haired man with buck teeth. The new comer's eyes lit up when he saw two familiar backs at the table across from the door. He came up behind Heyes and slapped him on the back. Heyes whirled around and broke into an enormous grin. "Kyle!" he cried gladly, 'We'll if it ain't old home week!"
"H . . . I mean Joshua, and ah, ah, how very nice to see you! And what a surprise! And, ah, . . . " Kyle the old Devil's Hole Gang member looked awkwardly at The Kid. As Kyle clumsily tried to cover the truth of their outlaw past, he took on so polite a manner that he sounded like he might invite them to tea any minute. He wasn't eager to annoy his old bosses and he could see how worried they were to see him suddenly. What kind of trouble might Kyle be bringing with him? He had obviously forgotten the Kid's alias, so they would have to clue him in.
"Kyle!" Heyes said quickly, "It sure is good to see you, old friend! You remember our . . . mutual friend Thaddeus Jones? He and his gal Cat run this place." The two former outlaws shook hands with the current outlaw, sneaking their fingers to their lips to warn him. Heyes felt a little nervous to see Kyle for his own reasons. Heyes' aphasia was largely gone, but not totally. He knew that Kyle would quickly notice the slight pauses in his old boss's formerly perfectly fluid speech.
"Of course I won't . . . Uh, yes, nice to see you, Jones." Heyes and the Kid exchanged uneasy glances over Kyle's head as there old Devil's Hole colleague unwound his muffler and sat down at the poker table, warming himself at the nearby stove.
"This is my friend Jim Smith," said Heyes to Kyle, who shook hands with the New Yorker. "He came out to see us from New York City. Jim, this is our old friend Kyle . . ." He left off Kyle's last name, wondering if Kyle Murtry had figured in the books Jim had read about the Devil's Hole Gang.
"H-H-How do you know Joshua?" Jim asked Kyle.
"We rode with Kyle some, few years back," Heyes answered smoothly. But Jim could hardly have failed to notice the panicked look Kyle had given Smith at this question and the uneasy glances Smith and Jones had given their old friend. Joshua neatly steered the conversation in another direction. "Kyle, Jim used to be my roommate in New York – that's where I'm living now, during the year, you know."
Kyle veered into near disaster yet again, "No He. . ., I mean Joshua, no I didn't know that. I heard as how you'd got shot in the head and couldn't talk and then I wasn't sure what happened to you. I'm damn glad to hear you talkin' so good - and to see you alive, to tell you the truth. Wheat said you was dead. What in tarnation were you doing in New York City?"
Heyes couldn't help but look at bit worried. Heyes cleared his throat a couple of times awkwardly, knowing his old outlaw colleague wouldn't understand the changes in his old boss at all. He was not real keen on having the Devil's Hole bunch all know that he was getting a college degree. Those were two very different worlds that just didn't understand each other – and Heyes was trying to live in both.
Jim eagerly took up the slack when his friend Joshua Smith seemed not to eager to tell the story, "H-h-he's studying m-m-mathematics at C-C-Columbia University, that's what he's d-d-doing! Earning t-t-top marks in the d-d-department, t-t-too. " said Jim, proud of his former roommate. The Kid looked up in surprise and gave Heyes a proud smile. He hadn't been sure of how well his partner had been coming along in school. Heyes' silence on the point had worried him some.
"You don't say!" Kyle's eyes were wide with astonishment. "The boys surely will be pleased to hear that." Kyle's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I mean that you're alive and well, Joshua."
"You mean they'll be all happy to laugh at me for being a school boy. Isn't that what you mean, Kyle?" Heyes laughed depreciatingly, even while hoping that he could find a way to explain who "the boys" were. "You know how much I always loved math. Turns out I'm really not bad at it. Not bad at all."
"You mean you're b-b-brilliant at it. Isn't th-that what p-p-professors H-H-Homer says?" Jim's eyes were sparkling. He wouldn't lose an opportunity to embarrass his former roommate with his own academic success.
"H . . . Joshua, you sure are full of surprises. And Ki . . . Thaddeus, running your own saloon and hotel. Isn't that just what you always wanted back when we, when, well, before?" Kyle grinned happily at the Kid. Having a friend running a saloon was a dream come true for the thirsty outlaw.
But having Kyle show up when Jim was in town was pretty close to a nightmare for Heyes and the Kid. They were glad to see him, but they were terrified minute to minute that he would give them away not only to Jim but to everyone else at Christy's place.
Later that afternoon the Kid found a moment alone with Kyle in the back room.
The Kid was mighty curious about some things. "What are you doing here all alone, Kyle? We always used to stay up to the Hole this time of year in the cold – could hardly get out through the snow. Can't think what has you out here riding all by your little lonesome."
"Aw, Wheat wanted us to try to rob a big mine payroll train down here on Christmas when the guards would be drunk. But all our own guys got even drunker." Kyle couldn't help laughing. "Wheat got so blamed mad at us that we thought we'd just take off for a while and enjoy the holiday on our own. We found a decent little town to stay in. But next day Wheat came after us and we had to ride out. Truth to tell, I got lost in the snow. Was mighty glad to spot this place before I got too cold. Pretty fair stroke of luck to find you boys here. I don't got two nickels to rub together." Kyle hung his head – he hated admitting how poorly the gang was doing without Heyes and the Kid, or even Big Jim, to keep the guys in line.
"Don't worry about it, Kyle. You can stay as long as you like. Ain't as though we've got a lot of business right now. Just please, would you try real hard not to use our real names! If Jim Smith finds out who we are, we'll never hear the end of it! He reads those dime novels, you know." The Kid looked Kyle in the eye and make sure he drove home his points. This was important! "And if you let Jim in on it, I hope he wouldn't turn us in, but it could make things real bad for Heyes in New York. There're plenty of people there would be real glad of ten or twenty thousand! I know you and me think Heyes is nuts, but he really wants to get that degree. I don't know what he wants with it, but I know he wants it real bad."
Kyle grinned. "Sure, Kid. I'll be careful. Can't stand those dime novels myself – they never talk none about me!"