"Damn! Damn! Damn!" yelled Heyes at the newspaper held up for him in Professor Homer's office, then he suddenly fell silent. He realized that he could easily have been heard in the hall outside and didn't want to have to explain his anger to his friends.

"Did you see this woman?" Charlie Homer asked Heyes.

Heyes shook his head. "No, I didn't. Not a glimpse! But I think I know when it must have been. I was paying attention to the Harvard guys – not watching for people who might know me. I guess I should be watching all the time, but for once I wasn't. I guess it's my fault, cause I sure didn't see Julia."

"How do you know it was this woman Julia, if you didn't see her? They just say a Boston woman."

"She's the only woman I know in Boston. Until last weekend, she was the only person I knew in Boston at all – at least that I remember." Heyes looked down and searched his memory, but he couldn't think of anyone else.

"Unless someone moved or took a trip," suggested professor Homer.

"What does it matter? I'm staying away from Boston after this! At least until we get our amnesty – if we get amnesty." Heyes sounded understandably depressed.

Homer waved his finger in Heyes' face."You do get a bit arrogant, you know! You shouldn't get careless, being so sure you know who it was. Be keeping an eye out for anyone who could ID you!"

"Don't you think I always do that? Well, except for last weekend." Heyes sighed. He got very sick of being so careful. Without the Kid at his side providing another pair of very educated eyes, he had to be even more careful in some ways.

Homer wasn't going to let his student off the hook. "Exactly my point. You were watching for this Julia, though, right?"

Heyes nodded. "Right – I was. I wasn't consciously watching for her when we were walking to the train station, but I would have noticed her if I had seen her. I would have – I'm sure of it."

Homer pressed home his point, "So it could have been someone else – someone you weren't thinking of and didn't notice."

Heyes had to admit that, "Yeah, I guess so. I'll be careful, Charlie. Like I say, I always am. Have been for most of twenty years. It kind'a gets to be a habit. I sure wish I could just be a student and forget the rest of it. Between that and being with Beth, it's plenty to keep me busy."

Homer gave Heyes a sad half smile. "Nobody's just a student, Heyes. Everyone has a life, too. And some other people's lives are harder than you might think.

And please, don't forget the good part of what you learned last weekend. School – and learning – is a whole lot more than making As. The good students make As – the exceptional students do as much as they can outside the classroom. And making friends is part of it. You did a good job at Harvard – you should be proud of that."

Heyes snorted. "I'd be prouder of the math if I wasn't scared stiff of the rest of it."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooo

The semester went on and Heyes continued to do very well in the classroom and out of it. He kept worrying that Julia would come back to New York looking for him. He watched his back religiously, but never saw Julia or anyone else who seemed likely to betray him. He enjoyed going out now and then with his friends Ev and Huxtable and Neal George, when he could. But Heyes didn't do that as much as he had formerly. It just made him too nervous. And Heyes still made a point of riding or shooting with Wainright whenever he could spare the time on a weekend. He didn't dare get careless about keeping his western skills in good shape. It got to be really a grind, sometimes – keeping up with being a student and a fugitive, and a man, too. It got very hard to make time to be with Beth anything like as much as he wanted to.

After Heyes had been "resurrected" in the papers, he kept feeling like another shoe was going to drop. He woke up suddenly the middle of the night whenever he heard anything – and in New York there was nearly always something to hear. As the end of the semester neared, Heyes was anticipating it with much less than his usual joy. He and the Kid had planned to go up to Lodgegrass, Wyoming, where a robbery had been blamed on them the previous November. It was that faked robbery that had caused the bounty offered on them by a group of banks and train companies to be raised from $10,000 each to $15,000 each. Heyes had hoped they could get it put right pretty fast so he could return to New York to take a couple of summer classes. He was constantly pressing forward with his plans for graduating as early as he could. He worked like mad studying as exam week approached. He had awful spring fever, but stayed indoors most of the time studying.

Then on the last day of the semester, after his last class, as Heyes left the class talking with Huxtable and Ev, he saw something that he dreaded. In fact, nearly everyone in those days dreaded this – the sight of a telegram delivery boy in search of him. A boy in Western Union's distinctive uniform with a peaked cap was waiting in the hall. And he was calling, "Joshua Smith, telegram for Joshua Smith!" Heyes hurried over to the telegram boy, anxiously wondering what this sudden news was. Smith motioned for his friends to go on without him. He had an awful feeling that whatever the news was, he wouldn't be able to share it with them.

The boy stood awkwardly, hoping for a tip as he handed over a telegram. Heyes distractedly gave the boy two bits and read the telegram with growing concern. Telegrams delivered out of the blue were notorious for always being bad news. Heyes' heart began to pound as he saw the words on the little slip of paper.

"Thaddeus to Lodge Grass Montana week ago stop never came back stop never wrote stop please help stop

Catherine Christy, Louisville, Colorado"

"Damn!" exclaimed Heyes with real feeling. He carefully wrote out a reply on the boy's pad and paid to have it sent back to Cat. She must be about going crazy. He wished he had better news than simply that he would drop everything and head to Lodge Grass – if he could find it.

Before the first telegram boy was long out the door, another was on his way in yelling, "Joshua Smith! Telegram for Joshua Smith!"

"Aw crap," muttered Heyes to himself. "This can't be good!" He read the scrap of paper, making sure the boy stayed to take a reply.

"Mutual friend arrested Lodge Grass Montana stop charges armed robbery and murder stop I am stuck testifying for murder trial here stop g no help stop let me know your plans soonest stop could be lynching stop

Sheriff Lom Trevors, Porterville, Wyoming Territory"

"Damn!" exclaimed Heyes with even more feeling, causing the telegram boy standing in the otherwise silent and empty hall to jump about half a foot. Now a very agitated Mr. Joshua Smith wrote out two telegrams and sent one to each of his two correspondents. The one to Cat just repeated what Lom had said (leaving off the last part about lynching, which could only uselessly worry Cat) and the second one telling Lom that he was on his way to Lodge Grass. What he would do when he got there, he had no idea. He didn't know what he was up against, other than the law and someone who was, once again, faking being Heyes and the Kid. Would people never get tired of this?

Heyes and the Kid had never struck Lodge Grass, Montana, in their lives, or been there for any other reason. Heyes had heard of the place – it wasn't all that far from the Wyoming border and from Devil's Hole, as the big distances out west went. But it wasn't more than a cross roads, as far as Heyes knew. It had never offered any attraction for a visit.

Heyes went by Professor Homer's office to notify his advisor before he vanished from town. The lean, grey professor was checking papers at his desk when his prize student arrived. "Charlie, I've got to leave town and leave fast. Sorry to miss exams, but it's life or death. The Kid's life."

Homer looked up in distress. "What the hell, Heyes!?"

"I just got a telegram – actually, two telegrams. The Kid went up to Lodge Grass, Montana – you know, where somebody pulled that robbery that got the bounty on us raised last November. I knew I should have gone up there and done something about it myself. I hoped the Kid had better sense. He said he'd wait until I could go with him after the semester ended. But it turns out that he didn't wait. I can't think what happened. No way he would have just gone out of the blue. Something must've happened! He went up a week ago, Cat says. And Lom says he's gotten himself arrested. Armed robbery - and murder! Lom Trevors says he can't go do anything about it right now and the governor of Wyoming won't help. So it's up to me. Lom said the folks out there could lynch him, so I've got to hurry."

"Heyes, what am I going to do with you? How are we ever going to get you graduated if you insist on running around playing cowboys and Indians all the time? I guess you can take a bunch of incompletes, but it won't look good on your record." Homer looked tired as he put down his pen.

"You don't expect me to let my partner be lynched, do you? Or just plain hung? Or put in prison for the rest of his life, even if the murder charge doesn't stick?" The frantic Heyes was pacing as much as he could in the tiny office.

"Of course not. Just don't leave yet right this minute! I've got to get a few things squared away. I'll meet you at your place in three hours and I'll have a train schedule with me." The professor pulled out his battered pocket watch and consulted it, figuring up what he could manage.

"Excuse me, professor." Heyes was shocked at what he was hearing. "What on earth are you talking about? You've got three classes counting on you to give exams. You can't up and go off to Montana with me!"

"Oh, come off it, Heyes!" Charlie Homer was from Wyoming and he made sure that Heyes knew it. "Anybody can proctor exams! And grade them, too. You know full well I've got a flock of teaching assistants to do it. I ought to be here to officially supervise, and to rule on final grades, of course. But with my seniority, I doubt the dean'll kick up much fuss. I've got full notes in place to guide the TAs. I just have to come up with a good official excuse. Death in the family ought to do it. Marie can go visit somebody out of town so we'll both be gone."

"Oh come off it, Charlie!" Heyes came back at his Professor, who was in his sixties. "You'd just slow me down."

Homer sat up indignantly. "I'm not that old! I can ride as fast as anyone, and I know Wyoming and Montana damn well. I've probably been there more recently than you have."

Heyes didn't want to hurt his mentor, but he also didn't want to be burdened by him on this vital trip. "I'm not talking about age. I'm talking about experience, professor. The Kid and I are professionals at this. An amateur would just be a problem."

Professor Homer pointed at himself passionately. "I'm a damn experienced amateur!"

Heyes was angry in his turn. "You don't have any experience springing people out of jail! I've sprung the Kid out of jail more times than I could tell you."

"More times than you could tell me? I think you can tell me about more than four or five." Charlie Homer couldn't stop being a professor.

"At least ten times, Professor," argued Heyes."

Homer was surprised at that, "Really? That many? Well, that is a lot. But by the way, I have a friend in Lodge Grass – or near there, at a ranch."

"You made that up just now to convince me to let you come," Heyes was still mad.

Homer mildly contradicted his student, "No – I told you about my cowboy poet friend the first day we met – this is him."

"A poet! What good is a poet?" Heyes threw his hands in the air. "It's the Kid and I who know what we're doing. As Kid says, if there's anything we're as good at as breaking into banks, it's breaking out of jails. We do know our way around. We've got way too much experience in that area. The problem is, you can't use any trick more than once – those sheriffs do talk to each other."

Homer stoutly maintained, "I'm still coming. You need someone who knows the area and who doesn't, frankly, look like Hannibal Heyes. They're bound to be expecting you, after you got resurrected."

Heyes had to nod at that, "Unfortunately, that's true. Who made you so smart? Oh, alright, come if you're bound to! Well, we've both got things to do. Come to my place by six and we'll talk about it. Bring dinner. And warm clothes. It'll be cold up there at night even in May."

Homer was determined to be given full credit for his experience outside the classroom, "I know the place, Heyes! It'll be hot in the day and cold at night. And yes, I have your secret new address from school records."

By the time Heyes and Charlie Homer got together at Heyes' place, Jim was there, too. He had been given the formerly secret address by Professor Homer. Jim, with Charlie Homer's connivance, was working hard on talking himself into going along with Heyes to spring the Kid. After the talking-to the Kid had given him, Heyes hoped Jim might be a bit more dependable, but he wondered. An odd selection of equipment, from ropes and packs to hatchets and canteens, was piled incongruously on the tenement floor. Each of the three men had brought a share of it without consulting the others. They had done pretty well, between them, at getting a reasonable supply of good stuff. But Heyes kept thinking of Jim's stack of western novels and hoping his friend wouldn't think things really worked like that out west.

Heyes moaned, "Aw gosh, two green horns! I hope Cat looks good in black cause this'll never come off with the Kid alive. The Kid and I are professionals at this! I don't need amateur help!"

"Amateur help is better than no help at all. And I know Montana damn well, especially that part of it," Professor Homer bristled. "The Kid thought he didn't need help and look what happened to him!"

"I'm n-n-no g-g-greenhorn d-d-dealing with g-g-gangs. J-j-just look at me!" insisted Jim, meaning the scars all over his face from a beating by a gang.

Heyes signed in exasperation. "Alright, alright! You can both come, if you can come right now. And if you'll just shut up and let me think! But I'm in charge. What I say goes. And don't you two roll your eyes at me, James Smith and Charles Homer! We're almost sure to have to break the law on this trip, so I'm the professional here!"

"Alright," said the Professor, "you don't have to be so prickly about it. You're the boss, just like at Devil's Hole."

"Oh great. Just what I need!" Heyes rolled his eyes skyward, remembering some of the disastrous things that happened with that bunch. "Why do you think we went straight?"

Heyes sent Jim to the Leutze clinic with a note telling Beth and Dr. Leutze where he was going. "I just hope," Heyes muttered as Jim left to deliver it, "that they don't both want to come, too. And Marie, too, I'll bet. What an expedition!"