Governor Barber looked back and forth between the two famous partners who were standing opposite him in the warden's plainly furnished office. He twirled his curling mustache and smiled, "Gentlemen, isn't it about time we got you out of this place? There are some people back in Laramie who are mighty anxious to see you."

"Yeah, but I ain't goin' nowhere like this, if I got a choice," said Curry, motioning to his black and white striped prison uniform. "You guys still got my clothes someplace?"

The warden spoke in a quiet, strained voice. "We keep all of the prisoners' clothing and effects in a special storage area." He called to his secretary, who was quietly mortified at his boss's sudden disgrace. "Hopkins! Go and fetch the clothing and effects of Mr. Curry and Mr. Heyes." As the slender young man hurried away, the warden said, "Your clothing and effects will be clean and complete. We are very careful about that."

"I'm glad you're careful about something," said Heyes sarcastically under his breath. There was a pause as the boys waited for their clothing to come so they could complete their exit from this place. Heyes paced up and down. The governor and the senator were meeting with one of their head marshals as they figured out what to do about administration until they could get a new chief and new cell block warden in place.

"You got my hair back there someplace?" joked the Kid to break the awkward silence.

Hopkins the secretary shortly reappeared with his arms full of clothing. However, he brought only one set of clothes, which he handed to Curry. "Thanks!" said Jed.

"You can change in Mr. Hopkins' office, through that door," said the warden.

"Mr. Heyes," said the young secretary in a pained voice, "I'm afraid your clothing is missing!"

"Oh, great!" said Heyes, throwing his arms into the air with exasperation. Then he stopped and said,
"Wait! I know what happened. The same thing that happened to a lot of your neat plans, Warden. Have a look in Johnson's office. You should find it all there."

"Hopkins!" said the warden. His secretary instantly headed off in the right direction.

Heyes nodded. "Yeah, he let me wear 'em for a while yesterday. Just part of his little campaign to convince me to work for him. I admit that I was glad to get clean and into civilized clothes for a few minutes. You'd be surprised what a difference it makes to a man's attitude."

"No, I really wouldn't, Mr. Heyes," said the warden, as Curry went into the next office to change. "Modesty. It's one aspect of remaking a man."

"Enforced modesty! So, just part of the plan." Heyes grimaced. He would be extremely glad to put the Penitentiary and its repressive plan behind him. "I've been remade before – but that time they wanted to make me a better man, not less of a man!"

The warden looked puzzled. "To what are you referring? I didn't think you had been in prison before."

Heyes smiled a little proudly. "I haven't. In fact it was two institutions that turned me around – the Leutze Clinic for Aphasia Patients and Columbia University."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Heyes? I'm not familiar with the malady of Aphasia, or what you would have had to do with Columbia University," said the warden, sounding only mildly curious and all too skeptical that Heyes could be seriously associated with a university. Naturally, the warden's own uncertain fate was of more interest to him at the moment than was the past of one of his most famous inmates.

Heyes laughed. He spoke with bitterness that made the warden turn in surprise to look at him, "No, I guess you aren't familiar with anything about me! If you'd read the transcript of my murder trial, or kept even a casual eye on the newspapers about the trial, you'd know all this. But no. You didn't bother. You just assumed that you knew all about me when you didn't know a damn thing! You didn't lift a finger to find out the truth! If that's the way you dealt with all your inmates, it's no wonder they're investigating you."

The warden cringed. "So that was why you were so angry that first day. I would be grateful if you would give me some explanation, since I did not discover it on my own. I apologize for neglecting my duties in that respect. Sometimes the administration of this place can . . . could be overwhelming."

Heyes shrugged. "Sure. I got shot in the head almost six years ago. That gave me aphasia – difficulty in using language caused by a stroke, or in this case, a head injury. At the clinic in New York they taught me to speak and to write again. And they gave me tutoring to make up for the schooling I missed growing up. Once I could talk and write again pretty well, I started classes at Columbia University. I was always pretty good at math. Liked it, too. The folks at Columbia knew what to do with that. When I get back to New York, I hope they'll be able to give me my BA and MA diplomas. It's supposed to be with honors. I don't know. They might not even graduate me . . . after this. A convicted felon – I just don't know . . ." Heyes' voice dropped off and his gaze fell.

The warden was genuinely shocked, and impressed by the accomplishments of a man he had taken to be a mere ignorant criminal. "A graduate degree! I thought you sounded educated, but no wonder you resented me for implying that you were ignorant. . ."

This finally roused Heyes' temper. He looked up and turned angrily on the warden, "Implying! You didn't imply it, you said it right out! More than once! Without bothering to verify your facts! They would never put up with such undisciplined behavior at Columbia! I wouldn't have put up with it in the Devil's Hole Gang, either! Get it right or don't get it at all!"

The warden pulled away from the well-justified scorn. Heyes was enjoying the formerly powerful man's discomfort. "Don't be afraid, warden. We don't hurt people the way your guards do! Not that we don't get tempted!"

The senator and the governor looked uncomfortable in the face of Heyes' anger, but clearly neither one blamed the man. "Heyes," said the senator softly, "have a care . . . there will be a trial. You don't want to endanger your own testimony."

Heyes stopped himself in mid-rant. "I'm sorry, governor. I have no intention of throwing away what you have won for us. It's just that when I think of what men have endured here . . . are still enduring here . . ."

Jed Curry came out of the secretary's office, having stayed longer than he needed just to dress. He had been listening to what his partner was saying. He had heard enough to understand what was bothering Heyes. He started to realize that, despite the physical punishment that Heyes had taken over the past three days, it wasn't imprisonment that was bothering him. It was the simple fact of felony conviction. It was what that might mean to Heyes and his future despite their pardon and amnesty. This time, Curry sure hoped that Heyes was wrong.

A prison guard appeared in the Warden's large office with his arms full of Heyes' clothes. Heyes stopped his diatribe and murmured, "Thank you very much," to the guard with scrupulous politeness. He wasn't about to be failing in the social graces in front of a senator, a governor, and a warden, not to mention his own partner.

Once Heyes was dressed, the party went out of the heavy guarded front door. Heyes and the Kid didn't look back. They never wanted to see this place again.

They got into a covered carriage that would carry the senator, the governor, and the two freed men. A wagon partly filled with marshals came along behind, although some of the original party of marshals remained at the prison to administer it and begin their investigation. There were also a couple of marshals on horseback.

As the senator was about to get into the carriage, he stopped and motioned over one of the mounted marshals. He spoke softly to the man, but Heyes heard him and flinched inwardly. Warren said, "Ride ahead, would you, and warn Professor Homer and the ladies not to meet us out front. I think more privacy is better. They probably know that, but just to be sure. Ask them to meet in Professor Homer's room. I'll meet them there and Heyes and Curry will come along when they've cleaned up some." The marshal nodded and rode off.

As the men walked out to the carriage and the wagon, Heyes softly asked Curry, "Say, Jed, how'd you get the gun from the guard and knock him out?"

Curry smiled with satisfaction. "The old pen trick."

Heyes looked at his partner. "What? I don't know that one."

Heyes grinned. "You ain't a sheriff, Heyes. Wilde taught me. It's a thing with a pen – I picked it up in our cell. A little pen with a steel nib can kill a man real easy. Go through his windpipe and cut his spine. Nasty, but it works, Wilde says. I just used it to make the guard look the wrong way while I punched him, though. Pen trick comes in right handy for sheriffs. Some ol' boy might get your gun, but who's gonna take your pen? Remind me to show you some time."

Heyes was repulsed at the mental picture, but he could see the practicality of such a strategy, "Huh! I sure hope I won't ever need it, Jed, now that I'm out of the violent crime business. But you never know. Professors do have lots of pens and maybe some angry students to defend ourselves from!"

The governor said, with a smile, "Mr. Curry, we have a little surprise for you. Miss Catherine Christy has come in from Louisville. And of course, Miss Warren and Professor Homer are here as well."

"Cat! That's great!" cried Curry eagerly. "She's well?" he asked in some concern.

"She's well, Mr. Curry, she's just fine," said the governor, who had no idea of why Curry would be anxious.

But then the Kid looked a bit put out. He glanced back and forth between the governor and the senator, who were sitting opposite the pair of ex-outlaws. "She's here already? You mean you told our gals that we'd be out a' that place in three days but you didn't tell us? You must've told 'em right off, or Cat couldn't be here yet!"

Warren nodded. "Yes, Mr. Curry, we did tell them as soon as you were out of the train station. And they were very upset about it, both of them. They . . . well, yes, they were very upset. They're been worrying – they'll be very glad to see you both! We couldn't tell you how short a time you would be in prison. That was a key part of the deal with the governors. You had to believe that you would be imprisoned for twenty years or more. You had to have every reason to believe that. I objected – mental cruelty is what I called it. But certain parties insisted."

"Well, so long as she's here and she's safe and comfy, I'm happy," said the Kid, his temper cooling. "I wonder if they have a chapel in town . . . You want to do a double wedding, Heyes? I think Cat'd like that."

"That sounds great, Jed," said Heyes without real enthusiasm, "But for our own wedding, I think Beth and I would like to wait to get back to New York. We'd understand if you don't want to wait. But we have so many friends there, and it's closer to her family in West Virginia so maybe they could come."

The Kid, puzzled and hurt at his partner's coolness, said, "Heyes, we want to see all those New York folks, too. I ain't never met a bunch of your pals at Columbia and I do want to! And Cat ain't been there at all. We can wait a couple of days. Not too long! But we can wait for New York, if that's what you want. And you got to be my best man!"

Heyes smiled at that. "Of course, Kid. And if you'd you be mine . . . If Beth still . . . I mean, I don't want to assume. . . If she still wants . . ." Heyes' voice trailed off miserably.

So now his partner understood the rest of what was bothering Heyes. He thought that Beth might not want to marry a convicted felon. Ever since Beth had first walked out on him, he had been plagued by fear that she would do it again, despite her protestations of loyalty. The Kid supported his partner, even against his own doubts. "Heyes, Beth wouldn't ever run out on you. She said she wouldn't and she won't. You ought to know that! And I'd fight any man who tried to get in front of me to be your best man!"

Heyes looked at his partner, and quietly changed the subject. "Jed, I just want to say that when we were in Johnson's office just now . . . well, I'd never have gotten out alive without you. I surely was relieved when you showed up, though I kinda' worried I'd get you into trouble that nobody could get out of. And when he started talking about whips . . ."

The Kid smiled at his partner, "Aw, Heyes, ain't we always saved each other so much till we stopped countin'? You were pretty fair yourself! I guess that'll be the last time we do that kinda' thing, the two of us. Though, like you say, you don't never know."

Heyes smiled a little at that. He wouldn't say it quite like that any longer – not now with a master's degree almost within reach! Almost all of his grammatical errors these days were on purpose, when he was joking around or trying to fool someone. Good grammar was getting to be part of him, except perhaps when he was very distracted or upset. But right now, he was hoping to still have a chance at the reasons he'd learned the grammar in the first place – to be a professor of mathematics, and to be Beth Warren's husband.

As the carriage rolled along, Senator Warren quietly asked Heyes, "Mr. Heyes, I hate to ask, but exactly what did they do to you at the Penitentiary? What Mr. Curry said . . ."

Heyes shook his head. "Nothing very bad. Not really. Not compared to what most of those poor guys have to deal with day after day."

The governor urged him to be honest. "Mr. Heyes, you will have to testify about this and the senator and I will be putting the case against him together. Can you please give us some hint of what kind of abuse you're talking about?"

Heyes looked away from the portly senator self-consciously while he spoke, but he kept his manner very casual. He hated to be pitied. "Beatings with a switch, or just their hands. One wore a sharp ring like it was on purpose to cut men. There are some bruises and cuts you can't see, but not bad. Solitary confinement in the dark on bread and water. That was no problem – needed the rest. Driving spikes on the railroad. That was the worst. Especially right after solitary. It was . . . hard. It might'a been worse for the Kid – he was holding spikes for me! And then they hung me by my hands in front of my cell for a while, but the inmates who were supposed to parade by and cuss me out or spit on me actually held me up and spared me for a good 30 minutes. And then it wasn't that long before the warden came along and got me down – I don't know, couldn't have been much more than an hour and maybe not that much. I didn't exactly have a watch. I think Johnson's talk about whips and infections was pretty near as bad as any of the physical stuff. That enough for you?" He looked up at the senator irritably.

The governor and Warren were trying not to stare too hard at Heyes during his horrifying recitation. It spoke volumes about Heyes' many previous experiences of physical suffering that he rattled all of this off so lightly. It was clear that he was far more concerned about the sufferings of the men who were still in the prison.

"And you, Mr. Curry?" asked the governor.

The Kid said, just as casually, "Heyes got it worse than I did. They hit you with a little whip kinda' thing when you talk or if you don't jump to it when they say. I got that a few times on the back and the arms. That was it. Outlawin's a hard life. We're used to a rough time. We'll heal up just fine. It'll take longer for the hair to grow back." He ran a hand over his soft pale fuzz, too short even to be curling yet.

When the carriage pulled up at the hotel, the marshals got out of their wagon and off of their horses and lined up on both sides of the walk to the hotel door before the men got out of the carriage. They wanted to make sure that the newly released celebrity prisoners didn't have to deal with gawkers or press.

But they did have deal with something more prosaic. The pair had to sign the hotel register. This would be the first time in many years, outside the closed worlds of prison, jail, and courthouse, that they would have to deal with a stranger who would know their real names. But also for the first time since they were boys, they weren't wanted. That would take some getting used to.

Beth men went up to the counter. The hotel clerk looked a little nervous about who these men might be who were accompanied by a senator, the governor, and several armed federal marshals. The Kid went first. He signed "Jedediah Curry" for the first time, other than in prison, for several years.

"Here you are, Mr. Curry, number 114," said the clerk, glancing up from the registers as he handed the Kid his key with hardly a stare at his very, very short hair and unshaven face.

Then Heyes, trying to be very offhand about this strangely big moment in his life, signed the register. He knew that he wouldn't get off so easy. So he signed "Hannibal Heyes" with a bold flourish that would have done for "John Hancock." The clerk looked down at the register, then up at Heyes, then back at the register, and back at Heyes. He swallowed hard and handed the darker former outlaw his key. The disconcerted clerk had to steady his slightly shaking voice as he said, "And here's your key, Mr. Heyes. Number 113."

"Thanks," said Heyes and went off to his room. He glanced back to the see the clerk staring open-mouthed after him, and glancing uneasily at the Kid. Heyes winked at the man and grinned. "Don't worry," he called back, "we ain't wanted no more." Heyes figured he might as well enjoy his celebrity. Now, after all, for the first time in 22 years, it held no more threat than a stare. The Kid only laughed.

"Gentlemen," said the senator as they came to the cage elevator, which was too much like a cell for the comfort of two of its passengers, "Why don't you both clean up and then meet us at Professor Homer's room – 112?"

While the boys were getting cleaned up, enjoying the unusual treat of running water, the senator went to talk quietly to Charlie Homer, Cat, and Beth. They met in the suite where Charlie was staying, which would be their headquarters in Laramie so they could meet in privacy.

The three good friends grouped around the senator, all talking at once. "How are they?" asked Cat.

"When can we see them? Why didn't they come straight to see us?" said Beth, anxiously.

"Are they alright?" asked Charlie Homer.

The senator said, "Don't worry! Don't worry! They're safe enough. You'll see them soon, but they wanted to clean up some. They need to bathe and shave. They didn't exactly get to do that often in prison. But ladies, I have to warn you, your finances were given a very hard time in prison. They look very different with shaved heads and they're self-conscious about it. The prison authorities say it's for cleanliness, but I think it's just a tiny part of the way they try to break a man's spirit. Never fear – your men's spirits came through in fine fettle! Mr. Curry just has a few cuts and bruises. Mr. Heyes is a bit worse off, though he's really fine."

"Oh, poor Heyes! I'm sure Jed's been through more than enough," said Cat. "I just want to get married and get him home."

Beth looked understandably frightened. Senator Warren tried to comfort her, "Don't worry, Miss Warren, he'll be fine. But he was beaten very badly and worked very hard. And there was a mild form of torture."

"Torture!?" The word understandably frightened Beth.

The senator felt terrible telling a gentile lady about such things. "They hung him up by his hands. He said it wasn't for very long. But after driving railroad spikes all day, it must have been . . . uncomfortable."

Beth was anguished to hear this. "You mean agonizing! My poor Heyes! You're telling me about physical abuse, but it's the mental abuse I worry about more. He's been through so much already. He was just getting reconciled to the worst of what went with the aphasia, which was worse than anyone really knows. And then being shot and so sick, and working so hard in school, and the killing in Montana, and the murder trial, and now this. With what he has ahead looking for jobs and probably getting rejected over and over, well, I worry."

Cat knew what no one else present knew that Beth worried about. If there was ever a moment that would tempt Heyes to return to drinking heavily, this would be it. And if there was one thing that would definitely destroy Heyes' career and life at this crucial juncture, it would be drinking.

"I'd better go and let you have your privacy," said the senator. "They should get here soon and they've had more than enough of me. Happy reunions and congratulations. Your men are being very brave, trying to help bring down Johnson - the brutal cell block warden who's been hurting men so badly. So you just let them know how heroic they are!"

"We will, senator!" said Cat. "Don't you worry about that! And we sure owe you a lot for all you've done to get the boys out."

"Yes, thank you so much!" said Beth. "We're in your debt, Senator Warren!"

"Thank you, Senator," said Charlie. "We'll be in touch with you, I'm sure, before we leave town."

It wasn't ten minutes before there was a knock on the door. The two women exchanged anxious glances – much as their men often had in the past.

Charlie opened the door to find Jed Curry standing there clean and freshly shaven, but looking very strange in his short golden fuzz and good suit.

"Congratulations, Jed!" said Charlie. "We're all very proud of you boys! Come and see Cat and Beth!"

"Oh, Jed!" exclaimed Cat, but Jed didn't say a word. He just took his lady in his arms and gave her a long, long kiss. It was some time before the passionate pair came up for air. Beth and Charlie quietly withdrew from the elegant hotel suite's parlor to Charlie's bedroom to give the engaged pair some time alone together.

Cat asked in a whisper, "Jed! Are you really alright? The senator said they beat you!"

Curry shrugged. He didn't whisper his reply. He wanted to be sure that his friends heard that he was alright. "Oh, not so bad. Just cuts and bruises no worse'n you'd get on any cattle drive. I'll heal up in no time. They got Heyes worse than me. Sorry, Beth, but they did." Beth and Charlie, hearing the Kid's voice, had returned to greet him.

"I know," said Beth, "the senator told us. I'm just so sorry that you both had to go through this."

Curry shrugged. "Well, we're gonna' swear out testimony for that man Johnson's trial, and try to help the men in that place. So we figure it's worth it."

"That's a good way to see it, Jed," said Charlie. "This state should be really grateful to you."

"Thanks!" said Jed. "I'm just glad to be out alive, Charlie. And back with Cat. We want to get married right soon, right, sweetie?"

"Yes!" said Cat, and they embraced again. She wasn't showing her pregnancy yet to the casual observer, but she would be very soon. The Kid, holding his fiancée in his arms, could feel the changes starting in her body even more than he had when he had last held her less than two weeks before. He looked at her with a special tenderness.

As the quartet of friends visited, Beth began to get nervous. Where was Heyes and when would he show up? She didn't want him to feel embarrassed about a few cuts and his short hair.

Heyes, back in his own hotel room, prepared with trepidation to see Beth, Charlie, and Jim. He took his time bathing, shaving, and dressing in a good suit that Beth must have brought from New York.

It felt strange to Heyes to wear something other than the coarse prison uniform. That at least had hidden him. Now the former outlaw felt uncomfortably exposed. Heyes looked at himself despondently in the hotel mirror. He had no use yet for a comb; only a few hours more than three days after Heyes' head had been shaved, he sported less than a quarter inch of prickly dark hair. He wondered if he was only imagining a few extra grey hairs growing in at the temples and a few new wrinkles starting. The dark diagonal scar on his left temple from his gunshot wound in the head was starkly evident. The long cut on his left cheek, opened and re-opened repeatedly by brutal treatment during his time in prison, showed a vivid red against his pale skin with bluish shadows of bruising all across his face. Heyes saw how much strain showed in his face even beyond the obvious wounds. He stretched painfully – his back and arm muscles were still aching from his day driving rail road spikes.

"Not much of a catch!" moaned Heyes to himself as he went to see his lady love. The exhilaration of beating Johnson had been very short-lived.

Heyes dragged his feet as he went down the hall to Charlie's room. He was dying to see Beth, but not to have her see him. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't pure vanity at work; he hardly dared to define what it was. As Heyes got near Charlie's room, he heard the happy, animated voices of Charlie, Beth, and the Kid talking and laughing together. He felt like he would be nothing but a wet blanket.

Heyes knocked softly on the locked door to Charlie's hotel room. Charlie answered the door.
"Heyes," he said softly. "Congratulations! We're so proud of you!" He shook his friend's hand, trying to hide how troubled he was by Heyes' altered appearance. With the bruises and cuts on his face, and the general appearance of depression, he looked much worse than Curry did.

As Heyes stepped slowly into the room, trying not to limp, he saw Beth looking at him. "Hello, Honey, Hello Cat," he said lightly. "It sure is good to see you! It feels like a lot more than three days!"

Beth tried to hide her dismay as she saw the strained, bruised and cut face of her lover and how stiffly he walked. "Heyes! Oh Heyes!" she cried, stepping into his waiting arms.

As they had with Cat and the Kid, the others withdrew to Charlie's bedroom to afford Beth and Heyes the privacy they so clearly needed.

"Oh, Beth! I've missed you so much!" Heyes tried to smile, but didn't succeed very well. In fact, he was close to tears.

"Darling," she whispered, "I love you! I've missed you every moment!" But as she went to kiss him, she could feel him wince. Even his lips were bruised.

Beth whispered, "Heyes, don't let me hurt you!"

"Don't worry. It's alight." Heyes kissed Beth long and deep, feeling better with every second that he was with her. And yet he couldn't help being in despair.

As they looked up at each other, he said, "I'm just sorry to look so awful. They did everything they could to make us feel like dirt. Worked too well."

"Oh, Heyes," said Beth breathlessly, "You can't believe any of those lies for a moment! You're wonderful and I adore you. We'll get married right away and you can get back to that promising academic career."

Heyes shook his head. "No, honey," he whispered.

"What!? No what!? What's wrong?" Beth whispered back, feeling the appalled gazes of their friends on her back even as they tried to pretend that they couldn't hear the lovers' words.

Heyes explained to her in a voice shaking with pain, "Beth, amnesty wipes the crimes off the record, but a pardon doesn't. A felony conviction is a felony conviction. The conviction remains on my record forever . . . ineradicable. The governors made sure of that. You know that Columbia won't graduate a . . . convicted felon." He paused a moment before he could go on. "And I don't expect you to marry one, either."

Beth stared at him in shock. "Heyes, are you offering to release me from our engagement?"

"Yes." He looked at her with eyes full of regret for a long, silent moment. "I wouldn't blame you at all. This isn't the way it was supposed to be."

But Beth's eyes were ablaze. "Well I refuse to be released! What do you think I am? Nothing on earth will stop me from marrying you just as soon as possible, Hannibal Heyes. I don't give a damn if Columbia is unreasonable about it or not. I love you! And don't assume about Columbia. They think an awful lot of you there. They might surprise you, Heyes. Ask Charlie!"

Heyes shook his head, fighting back tears. He didn't want to put his advisor on the spot and he was ashamed to be so emotional in front of his friends. Between his happiness at Beth's fierce support, and his sorrow over his doubtful academic and professional future, he was wracked with strong feelings.

But Beth wouldn't be discouraged. She walked into Charlie's bedroom where Charlie and the Kid and Cat were gathered. Heyes trailed after her unhappily. "Charlie! Is Columbia going to give Heyes his hard-earned diplomas? He's getting all anxious about it and he won't listen to reason. They have to graduate him! Don't they? He's earned it!"

Charlie paused before his spoke. He didn't dare to build up false hopes. "He surely has earned it, Beth. But I don't know. There aren't neat rules for something like this. Things have happened so fast, and you know how slowly university bureaucracies operate. I just don't know. We'll have to submit it to the deans in charge and to the President of the University. I think they should graduate him, but the change of names could cause problems, as could the felony conviction. It's a very unusual situation and I can't predict how the powers that be will react."

Charlie looked at Heyes sorrowfully, "Son, you may be right to worry, I'm afraid. I hope it'll all work out. But I just am not at all sure what the deans and the President will say."

Heyes only sighed in resignation to his lot. He was used to waiting for people in power to make big decisions about his future. Having Charlie call him son almost made things worse. It just raised the stakes even more.

But Beth was furious. "We can't leave Heyes in suspense! We'll have to go right down to New York on the train tomorrow and make our case! We'll make them graduate him! With the honors he's earned!"

"Sorry, honey, but we can't go yet," said Heyes, reluctantly. "I promised, and Jed promised, that we'd stick around here and swear out testimony against Johnson. That's bound to take at least a day or two. Could be more. There's a lot of . . . information to cover. There are over 60 men in that prison and every one of them told me stuff about Johnson. And every one of them deserves justice." He opened and closed his right hand experimentally. Heyes winced at the lingering soreness from spike driving and hanging by his hands. "I'm not looking forward to all the writing."

What he didn't say, but Beth understood, was just how very, very tired he was. Physically and emotionally, he was worn out. But he had more to do before he could rest. He had a lot more to do.

"Darling, you're my hero!" said Beth. "And you will be for all of those men, too. You both will be!" Heyes kissed her again, this time without quite such fierce doubts.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After a quiet room service dinner in Charlie's suite, Heyes went back to his room to get some sleep. The Kid was still chattering with Cat, but Heyes said good-night to Beth and excused himself early. The excellent bed in the finest hotel in town felt absurdly comfortable. He had stripped down to his summer undershorts, having no suitable night clothes with him. The bruises and cuts on his body looked out of place against the pristine white linen sheets.

Heyes had a hard time falling asleep. His body was still aching and his mind was full of worries. He was terribly lonesome. In such a proper place, with strangers all around the possibility of press, of course he couldn't share a room with Beth.

Heyes reached into the night stand and found that regular comfort of lonely travelers, the Bible. He opened it at random and found himself reading the Song of Solomon: "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine." Heyes closed the book, overwhelmed with longing for his own love.

But now there was a very soft knock at Heyes' door. The knock wasn't on the front door into the hall. It was on the side door of his room, leading into the room next door. A familiar and welcome voice whispered, "Heyes! It's me! Let me in!"

Heyes scrambled to his feet and opened the door with a happy laugh. All his aches and worries and fears were forgotten as he took Beth in his arms and carried her back to his big hotel bed.

"Darling," he murmured in his throatiest, sexiest voice, "now I'm really free!"

Beth chuckled deep in her throat as Heyes unbuttoned her blouse a bit at a time and kissed her lower and lower and lower.